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It’s late in the afternoon and it’s been raining all day, he hates it. Not really, but if someone asks he’ll say he hates it just because he is soak wet, everything is wet. Rain makes the mess of dark curls he has as hair wilder and he is, since he was a little child, an easy target for colds and flu.
His class ended later than expected and now he is waiting for the bus, of course he missed the usual he takes with Feuilly and Jehan, so now he has to ride alone.
While he waits at the bus stop he hears a noise, at his back there is a little damp box. “No Grantaire, you’ll regret it”, he says to himself, but deep inside he know what’s in the box, and he also knows that he will not be able to leave it there, in the cold, alone, as he is now. He opens it.
“Meow” is the sound that leaves the tiny mouth of the cat inside the box.
“Hello to you too, little friend” Grantaire answers, and holds the small cat in his hands and sighs “I guess you’re coming back with me”.
He hides the cat in the box again and rides the bus. He’s glad it is almost empty. Once in his sit, he lets his hand fell inside the box to keep the animal quiet. Without any problems both of them arrive at his apartment.
“Well, warm milk for you and I’ll have to cook for me” Grantaire talks to the cat letting him get out of the humid box, it is wary at first, but soon he follows Grantaire’s feet and tries to catch them. Grantaire laughs. “You are just like Patria”.
Two month ago Bahorel decided to move in with Feuilly; a week later they announced their relationship, which was pretty obvious to all of them. It was hard for Eponine and Grantaire to keep the rent so he decided to find something smaller, Eponine was supposed to do the same, instead Combeferre replace his place at the flat, and they are currently living there with Gavroche.
Grantaire often feels alone, but now he has the opportunity too change that. He decides to keep the cat. He knows that his apartment is a mess, full of canvas and paint everywhere, which will need a safer place than the living room. It will be hard to keep this little friend away from his school work. He also knows what his friends will think, they don’t believe Grantaire as responsible person, he tried to own Patria months ago, but it was denied to him.
However, Grantaire proved to be responsible; with his friends’ help he quit drinking, his grades have improved, and since his secret-but-stable relationship with Enjolras he is doing so much better. Yet he fears that his friends will try to convince him to give his new friend away.
Once he finishes his food he sets himself in the couch, the cat meows at him by the floor. He picks him up and stares at the cat, black fur and light blue eyes, “Since Patria is Enjolras’ you’ll be my France” he says and smile to the cat he holds centimeters away from his face, he kisses his little paws and pats his head.
A week passes and Grantaire is happy he kept France, he no longer feels lonely when he comes back late in the afternoon. There is no longer an empty apartment to receive him. France, jumps at his feet, plays with his hands, follows him around the place, and rests at his feet when he is painting. There is a place in the couch where the sun always hits, which is France’s favorite, and he also owns a place in Grantaire’s bed. And Grantaire loves his company.
***
It’s a lazy morning and Grantaire is at Enjolras’s flat. They are spread in the couch, Enjolras’s head resting in his chest. Patria plays with his hand which hangs off the couch.
“Is that cat hair in your sweater?” Enjolras suddenly asks.
“It must be Patria’s” Grantaire answers careless of the question.
“It’s black hair” Enjolras insists.
“And?”
“Patria doesn’t have black hair, Grantaire”
“Does she not?” he asks eyeing Patria “Oh, its France’s then” he says, and then he realize that no one knows of the existence of his cat.
“France? What are you talking about?” Enjolras says intrigued.
“I may or may not have own a cat, and called it France” Grantaire says and both of them are sitting up.
“You have a cat, since when?” Enjolras voice is quiet.
“A month ago, more or less” Grantaire feels guilty for keeping it a secret.
“Oh, that’s nice” Enjolras looks at Grantaire serene “Why that name though?” he asks then.
“Well, you own Patria, and it occurred to me that it would be nice to call mine France, now it sounds stupid” Grantaire laughs.
“Yeah well, that complicates the things a bit, or not, I’m not quite sure” Enjolras says, concern.
“Complicate? Complicate what?” it’s Grantaire’s time to be intrigued.
“Well, I was thinking, my place is big, and you are living alone, not alone now, but if you think it convenient, we could share this flat, I mean, live together, like being together officially” Enjolras says as a matter of fact. Grantaire feels his heart rising, his face is one of utter shock. He didn’t expect this. As he is trying to find words Enjolras stares at him fondly, slowly a smirk crept in his face as Grantaire gasps for words.
“Yes, I want to, I…” Grantaire says and throws his arms around Enjolras neck to bring him closer, to kiss him and show him all those words he can’t find to say. And Enjolras allows Grantaire, because at last he always does when Grantaire is the one who demands.
Minutes later, when they finally pull apart Grantaire asks “Since when have you been thinking this?”
“Since Bahorel moved in with Feuilly, more or less” Enjolras replies as his hands lose in dark curls and with a smile he adds “I want to love you freely and utterly. I want to be with you all the time, waiting every morning is maddening, I want to wake up next to you, to be able to see your sleepy face and kiss every inch of your skin before sleep and then in the morning sun” he says passionately.
“You do that very often” Grantaire adds.
“Not as often as I want, though” he answers “But now I’ll be able to” his lips touch Grantaire’s with a tenderness that breaks his lover’s senses.
“We need to bring my things here as soon as possible” Grantaire says and lets his head fall back smiling, giving Enjolras his neck.
“Yes” Enjolras’s answers trailing kisses in Grantaire’s skin.