Enjolras finds his body giving up, piece by piece. He begins to slide in and out of consciousness, his body becoming one with the couch.
One with Grantaire’s hands. He arches his back and moans, for a brief moment…at peace.
Everything melts away from Enjolras.
But…even as unconsciousness begins to tease at the edge of his senses…Enjolras is intensely aware of the fact that Grantaire is the one doing this to him. Those hands are still stroking his head…and his neck, drawing talented, firm lines along the aching muscles of his back and neck.
On the other side of such deafening relief, Enjolras is dismayed to feel that his cheeks are wet with his own, now shed tears.
"….G-gran…" he manages to whisper, his voice ruined from repeated bouts of illness.
"…T-taire…" he ultimately finishes, turning his head slightly to look back at Grantaire.
Those dark eyes are cast downward, and despite that his hands have yet to leave their comforting, strong presence on Enjolras’ back and neck…Grantaire himself…looks distinctly tiny. As if waiting to be sent away. Laughed at.
Or perhaps worse…perhaps he’s waiting to be told that even now, he’s a worthless drunk.
No…Enjolras thinks, trying to turn more, I’ve never had someone pull me out of that kind of migraine before. I…I owe you something. I want you to look at me.
Enjolras tries to turn further, feeling his heart—so oddly exposed—breaking a little at the sight of Grantaire.
Has he always looked this way? I mean…perhaps not when directly challenging my beliefs, but…he looks…distinctly…as though he feels worthless.
Enjolras thinks back. He recognizes this look—those times when Grantaire was alone in the corner…those moments when Enjolras caught R looking at him…
And it occurs to Enjolras, in that moment, that Grantaire is extremely vulnerable.
They both are.
It sinks in, as Enjolras slowly angles his hips, turning slowly…well aware that while his pain has melted away, it’s all at the mercy of Grantaire’s talented fingers. Nothing else. But he wants to face Grantaire, and so he turns.
It takes several minutes, but ultimately, Enjolras is gazing up at Grantaire…the hands still strongly massaging him.
Enjolras reaches up to cup Grantaire’s face.
"…thank you," he manages to breathe, gazing into those eyes sincerely.
so super sorry that this came late. Part 5 will be from Taire’s POV if any of you are still interested.