Grantaire is Shot!

Grantaire, standing behind Enjolras (and mostly watching his ass, honestly, rather than listening to the words he's saying) happens to see the glint of light from a gun barrel pointed at the striking blond. Without stopping to think, the cynic throws himself forward, knocking Enjolras out of the line of fire and taking his place.

Enjolras looked up in surprise and anger until he realized that he'd been spattered with blood and that Grantaire had pushed him out of the way of a bullet. "Grantaire..." he cradled the man, his blue eyes huge.

Smiling weakly, Grantaire shoves at Enjolras' chest. "Get out of here, idiot," he murmurs, fondly.

The crowd is keeping the gendarmes at bay for now. Enjolras scoops Grantaire into his arms and weaves through the people, ducking into an alley.

Grantaire can't help but cry out as he's jostled and roughly carried by Enjolras, who, while taller, is very slender.

Enjolras holds him up against the wall, clapping a hand over his mouth and kissing his forehead.

His eyes wide and pain-filled, Grantaire stares gratefully at Enjolras as he screams into the blond's hand, letting out the worst of the pain. The kiss definitely helps, though he wishes he hadn't literally had to be shot for it.

Enjolras puts part of his hand in R's mouth so he can bite down on it. He trails kisses across the man's rough, stubbly face. To his surprise, he likes the way it feels against his lips.

Closing his eyes, Grantaire bites the offered hand, trying not to clamp down as much as he would like to. His breathing gradually slows, aided by Enjolras' soft lips on his face, and he eventually releases his grip on the man's hand. His own hands, which had been balled in the material of Enjolras' jacket, finally loosen and he opens his eyes again, only to see the blond's looking at him from inches away.

Enjolras pulls his teeth-dented hand from Grantaire's mouth and... kisses him.

Taken completely by surprise, Grantaire melts into his idol's arms. Not sure what to do with his own arms, Grantaire awkwardly puts a hand on the back of Enjolras' neck, then moves it to his back, then winces as his wound is jostled. "Ah..." he hisses, "maybe we should keep moving." He's mentally kicking himself as soon as the words have left his mouth--what's a possibly life-threatening wound compared to kissing Enjolras?

"Ah, I'm sorry!" Enjolras pulled away, face flushed bright pink with embarrassment. "I don't know what came over me." he helped Grantaire stand, supporting him. "Can you make it to Etienne's flat?"

"I don't mind," Grantaire gasps weakly, shuffling forward to test how well he can walk. "I'll make it." He thinks about adding something about doing this later, but he doesn't want to press his luck. He softly strokes Enjolras' face, then concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other.

Enjolras supported him all the way to Combeferre's. The medical student wasn't home, but Enjolras let himself in and ransacked the clutter for bandages. Luckily, Grantaire's wound didn't seem to be bleeding much. Enjolras wrapped it as best he could.

Trying not to get -too- much blood everywhere, Grantaire sinks gratefully onto Combeferre's couch, pushing heaps of books and papers aside so he can lay down and concentrate on breathing slowly and deeply, eyes tightly closed, while he waits for Enjolras. He bites his lip while the wound is cared for, grabbing Enjolras' sleeves several times.

Enjolras gives him worried smiles, stroking his hair whenever he made pained noises or gripped his sleeve. "...thank you. That was a very brave thing."

"A very stupid thing, you mean," Grantaire sighs. "But thank you. I'm...glad you're ok. How bad does it look?"

"It doesn't look too deep, but... Etienne will know better than I." Enjolras leaned in to Grantaire and kissed him again, his hand sliding up R's thigh.

"Ahhh! Enjolras!" Grantaire gasps, grabbing the blond's hand before things get...well...out of hand. "You...have no idea how much I want this...but..." He raises pleading brown eyes to meet Enjolras' blue, carefully withdrawing from the kiss.

Enjolras flushed again, clenching his fists. "I'm sorry!" he sat down firmly on the floor in front of the couch. He was so hard he couldn't think. Why was he reacting this way? Grantaire was hurt, it really wasn't the time to be... aroused!

"It's alright! Please, don't be embarrassed. Believe me, I want this." Grantaire tries to hide how much this little speech has hurt, gently taking Enjolras' hand.

Just then, there is a rattling at the door and Combeferre strides in. "Ah! Enjolras, you're alright. I heard there was fighting in the street and I was worried. And who's...Grantaire. You made a mess of my work, and you're bleeding all over my...you're bleeding all over my couch!" Instantly, Combeferre springs to his friend's side, with considerably more adroitness than usual. He nods his approval at Enjolras' bandage before removing it to examine the wound. "You're alright, Grantaire. It's just a graze. What happened?"

"He leapt in front of me! A gendarme tried to shoot me." Enjolras squeezed Grantaire's hand. "He saved my life."

Grantaire tries to hide a smile at Combeferre's abrupt change, content to lay back and listen.

*He squeezes back, smiling up at Enjolras. "I'm not going to die?"

"No, Grantaire, you'll be fine. Would you like some brandy? That was a very brave thing you did. And I'm glad." Combeferre manages to give Enjolras a look that is both furious and overjoyed.

Enjolras smiles apologetically at his friend.

"And you!" Combeferre cries, rounding on Enjolras, "what were you thinking, almost getting yourself shot?! If Grantaire hadn't been there--not that I'm saying I would rather you get shot, Grantaire--who knows what would have happened?!"

"I had no idea my speech was attracting so much attention!" he protested.

Combeferre just raises an eyebrow, pointedly turning his back on Enjolras to fuss over Grantaire.

Grantaire does not want to be caught in the middle of this. "I, ah, I'm feeling much better!" he announces, trying to stand and escape.

Enjolras stood with him, pushing him back down. "Etienne..." he sighed. "Is he well enough to move, or should he stay here?"

"He should stay here. Well, somewhere safe, anyway. My flat isn't exactly conductive to, ah, recuperation." The medical student flaps vaguely at the mess. "But I suppose it will have to do for now. You should stay here, too, out of sight. I have class, or do you need me to stay?"

Grantaire sighs, and allows himself to be laid flat. At least he had managed to avoid an argument.

"We can manage. You get to class." Enjolras nodded, hugging his friend.

Combeferre hugs back, a little more forcefully than usual. With a final glaring, warning look at Enjolras, and a softer, more concerned one at Grantaire, the medical student leaves again.

Grantaire laughs until he groans, clutching the wound on his side. "Does he know how ridiculous he is?"

"I don't think so." Enjolras smiled weakly.

Shaking his head, Grantaire settles back on the couch. "So, ah..." he starts, then looks away, blushing.

Enjolras pretends to study his fingernails, blushing.

"Um, never mind."

"Please... say what you wanted to." he said quietly.

"...about what happened...would you...I mean...I would like...please kiss me again..."

"You're hurt, we shouldn't..."

"Just a kiss. Please. Unless, ah..." The cynic flicks his gaze to Enjolras' groin, quite close to his face with the blond standing, then quickly looks away.

"We... I don't think we should continue this until you're better." he said resolutely.

Grantaire nods. "But...you do want to continue?" he murmurs shyly.

"Yes." he smiled. "However, I don't want to hurt you."

"Um...would you hold me?"

"Of course." Enjolras sat down next to him, gingerly pulling R against his chest. "You rest."

Curling up gratefully against his Apollo, Grantaire settles up for some well-deserved sleep.