After the play finishes and the actors have taken their last bow, Enjolras remains seated for several moments as people begin to leave, then stands and puts on his hat. "That was --" he frowns a little, remembering again who is sitting in the box beside him. "Did you like it?"

"Excellent, I thought." Ferdinand seems unperturbed by any darker reading of the foregoing drama; he looks at Enjolras with a slighter, more diffident smile than the facile public one. "But I admit I'm not terribly critical."

Enjolras looks a little nervous. "I see. I quite enjoyed it. Thank you."

"What's the matter?"

"I'm not sure." Enjolras touches his shoulder lightly, almost as though he is brushing lint from Ferdinand's jacket, but his fingers linger half a moment too long for that.

Ferdinand glances at him curiously.

"You've been very kind to me," Enjolras says softly. "I appreciate it."

Ferdinand rests a hand on his shoulder. "Don't mention it," gravely. "I--"

"Yes?" Enjolras says, frowning a little.

"You confuse me."

Enjolras blinks. "How do you mean?"

Ferdinand shakes his head. "Half the time you seem sure of yourself to the point of arrogance-- and then suddenly you look as though you were about to flee." His fingers tighten unconsciously on Enjolras' shoulder.

"That would be because I'm confused myself." Enjolras hesitates a moment longer, then kisses his cheek lightly.

His eyes widen; then, cautiously, he returns the kiss in kind. "What about?" almost steadily.

Enjolras looks at the floor. "I don't know what this intermittent friendship means to you. Your Highness."

"Now I've put you on the defensive." Ferdinand touches his cheek. "Look at me."

Enjolras looks up, biting his lip a little, and meets Ferdinand's eyes.

"I know no more than you," softly. "Quite probably less. I am glad of your company, the odd things you say-- Good God, man, do you think I have you written down in a book somewhere with my appointments?" laughing a little, pained, bewildered.

"I hoped not, but I didn't know." Enjolras smiles a little. "It's very interesting to talk with you. You think differently from nearly everyone I know, and --" more softly, after a hesitation "-- you are very charming."

Ferdinand blinks, glancing down. "When you say that, I could believe it."

"I meant it." Enjolras kisses his cheek again.

"Yes," quietly. "You would." He hesitates, then lets his hand slip to Enjolras' back, perhaps unconsciously.

Enjolras takes off his hat again, leaving his hair rather tousled, and tosses it onto a chair. "I'm not sure what to do about it."

Ferdinand blinks at him, and smiles a bit. "No?"

"Not really." He glances away, then back at Ferdinand's face.

"What were you considering?" lightly.

Enjolras blushes. "I don't know what you would like."

A bemused pause, during which Ferdinand's fingers stray to the back of Enjolras' neck, as though of their own accord. "That seems an odd consideration."

"I don't entirely know what I would like, either," Enjolras admits with a shiver.

Ferdinand regards him with wide eyes for a moment, then lets him go, turning away slightly.

Enjolras frowns. "What's wrong?"

"I don't quite know." Poise has momentarily deserted him; his voice shakes. "Shall we get out of this? The worst of the crowd should be gone."

"All right." Enjolras retrieves his hat and opens the door for him.

Ferdinand murmurs indistinct thanks, and goes out swiftly.

Enjolras swears under his breath and follows him.

When they emerge onto the relatively quiet street, Ferdinand has regained a semblance of composure. "That's better," he says, calmly, if without a great deal of conviction.

Enjolras glances at him. "Good."

"I hate to go back just yet," musing.

"Is it that bad?" lightly.

"What? No, I only--" He puts an arm around Enjolras' shoulders, easily, as though they were childhood friends. "Come with me; talk with me. It's early yet."

"All right." Enjolras gives him a rather nervous smile.

Ferdinand glances at him, almost pleading. "We could go-- anywhere, really."

"There's a café up the street I've visited before, if you like."

He hesitates a moment. "Very well."

"Would you rather somewhere else?" Enjolras puts an arm around his waist, hardly touching him.

Ferdinand blinks once, and twice. "I'll trust your judgment."

"The café should still be open."

"Very well."

It is open, and rather busy. They slip into the back and sit together in a relatively quiet corner, whereupon they are accosted by a waiter. "What would messieurs like to drink?"

"A carafe of red wine, a step above the house vintage," Enjolras says with a glance at his companion.

Who is quiet, his eyes downcast.

"Very good," and the waiter departs.

When he has gone, Ferdinand sits back with a sigh, not quite looking up. "If you would rather get home, I..."

"No, it's all right." Enjolras tries to smile at him and mostly succeeds.

After a moment he looks up, returning the smile. "What is the matter?" as though, whatever it is, it is separate from both of them.

"I'm becoming fond of you," Enjolras says, shrugging a little.

Ferdinand blinks. Then, "That's a strange reason for us both to be out of sorts."

Enjolras nods. "It is."

"You're doing it again," slightly peevish for the first time.

"Doing what?" blinking at him.

"Being confusing. Telling me you're fond of me, for God's sake, as though you're talking about the weather." Ferdinand laughs, though it sounds forced. "I don't understand you."

Enjolras sighs. "I can't express everything, not in words," he says with a vague smile. "I don't know what you want, or what I want."

"No?"

"No," and he looks at the table.

Ferdinand leans forward to touch his hand.

Enjolras bites his lip. "I don't mean to confuse you."

"It's all right," half-smiling. "I didn't think it was intentional."

Enjolras gives him a momentary smile in return. "Well, then."

Ferdinand seems rather at a loss. "Well."

"I suppose we have to decide what to do next."

"Wait for the fellow to come back, I suppose."

Enjolras blinks at him before it sinks in. "Oh. That isn't what I meant."

"Oh?"

"I was thinking more in the long term than that."

Ferdinand studies him. "Ah."

Enjolras sighs. "I can certainly take up no more of your time, if you prefer that."

"No, I -- I wouldn't say that at all."

Enjolras gives him a long look. "I don't know what you want."

"Haven't I said," after a moment, "that I'm glad of your company?"

"You did," with a nod, "but that was before I was, ah, impolite."

"Were you?" lightly.

Enjolras glances away. "It could be construed that way."

Ferdinand shakes his head. "I didn't notice."

"All right."

Ferdinand catches his hand again, with that sudden glimmer of boyishness breaking his habitual gravity. "Promise me you won't worry over that. Promise not to apologize every time you say something interesting."

"I won't." Enjolras squeezes his hand. "I'm not afraid of being interesting, only of offending you -- and that, only on a personal level, really." He glances at the door. "Do you want to stay here?"

A shrug. "If you like."

Enjolras lets his hand go and stands. "The waiter seems to have disappeared."

"Indeed." Ferdinand pushes back his chair. "Shall we go, then?"

"All right."

The night has grown chilly. Once in the street, Ferdinand rests a hand on his companion's shoulder, as though to keep him from wandering off. "You're all right?"

Enjolras kisses his cheek. "I think so. Are you?"

He shivers slightly. "To be sure."

"We should go -- somewhere."

"Unless you fancy standing here in the cold," lightly.

Enjolras shakes his head. "I don't know where to go, that's all."

Ferdinand shrugs. "Does it matter?"

Enjolras blinks at him. "I suppose not, if you fancy standing here in the cold. It is rather hard to talk in the middle of the street."

"True." Ferdinand's cheeks are flushed, presumably from the cold. "Damn."

Enjolras bites his lip. "I live rather too far from here to walk if you want to get back at a reasonable hour."

Ferdinand blinks. "If you--"

"Yes?"

"We needn't walk. That is, if you-- I mustn't intrude on you too much," slightly wistfully.

"It's all right." Enjolras smiles at him. "I did invite you, in an off-hand sort of way."

"Well, then."

"Shall we?"

"By all means."

Enjolras' flat is two rooms, the first a study of sorts with various books strewn about none too neatly and three rickety chairs in varying states of disrepair. He looks about quickly before he lights a candle and shuts the door to the bedroom. "Welcome to my exceedingly humble abode, your highness."

Ferdinand laughs. "Thank you."

"It really isn't much." Enjolras takes three books off of the sturdiest chair and offers it to him.

"It serves the purpose," cheerfully, as he sits. "It looks-- very well lived-in."

Enjolras blushes. "It is that, I suppose." He sits on the second-best chair.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm afraid I'll offend you," softly, not looking at him.

"You haven't yet."

"I haven't done anything yet." Enjolras shrugs.

Ferdinand smiles a little wryly. "Haven't you?"

Enjolras blushes. "Nothing unforgettable."

"I would disagree," softly.

Enjolras' eyebrows rise. "Oh?"

Ferdinand meets his eyes. "I don't think you're at all forgettable, my friend."

"Thank you."

Another small smile. "Not at all. I should thank you, in fact."

"What for?" touching his shoulder.

Ferdinand closes his eyes, barely more than a blink. "For the opportunity to make your acquaintance. I would be sorry to have missed it." He reaches up to cover Enjolras' hand with his own.

Enjolras blushes. "I see. In that case I should thank you for precisely the same thing, as my friendship is hardly the honor that yours is."

Ferdinand shakes his head impatiently. "Don't. There's no need for that."

Enjolras edges forward a little. "I meant it most sincerely," and to prove it, he kisses Ferdinand.

A sharp, incredulous gasp, and then the kiss is returned desperately.

Enjolras shudders and puts a hand on his shoulder.

Ferdinand pulls away after a moment, looking dazed. "You..."

"Are you all right?" Enjolras asks. This is somewhat ironic in that he is shivering.

"Yes, of course," breathlessly.

"Good." Enjolras looks away for a moment, still trembling.

Ferdinand puts out a hand to touch his cheek. "Are you?"

"Yes." Enjolras leans over to kiss him again.

With a sigh, Ferdinand embraces him.

Enjolras pulls away after a moment. "This isn't entirely comfortable."

"No."

Enjolras stands and offers him a hand up.

Ferdinand takes it after a moment, and gets to his feet. "You keep surprising me," a little hoarsely.

"Are they bad surprises?"

A deep breath. "No."

"Good." Enjolras kisses him again.

Ferdinand runs a hand down his back, experimentally.

Enjolras embraces him, sighing.

"I don't understand you," Ferdinand says in his ear, after a minute.

"What don't you understand?" Enjolras' voice shakes.

"All of this," tightening an arm around his waist.

"Oh."

"This is madness--" He buries his face in Enjolras' shoulder for a moment, overcome.

"I know." Enjolras rubs his back, lightly and awkwardly.

Ferdinand shudders, and straightens, letting him go.

"Now I have offended you," sadly.

"No. Not at all. It's not your fault." He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly, rather touchingly awkward. "You didn't--"

"No?" Enjolras sighs. "That's good."

Ferdinand focuses on him swiftly. "You're unhappy."

"Not if you aren't," kissing his cheek.

"How can I know? This-- I don't understand." But he returns the kiss, settling a hand on Enjolras' shoulder.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," Enjolras says softly.

Ferdinand is quiet, considering this, his eyes on the floor. "No."

"A momentary folly." Enjolras touches his shoulder.

"Perhaps," on the crest of a sigh.

Enjolras kisses him again, lightly.

Ferdinand touches his hair tentatively, and kisses him back.

"It could be more than that," Enjolras adds breathlessly, "if you want it to be."

"My God," Ferdinand murmurs against his cheek. "What are you trying to do to me?"

Enjolras shivers and holds him more tightly. "I'm not sure."

Breathless laughter. "That's fair, I suppose."

"Should I stop?"

"...no," reluctantly.

Enjolras kisses him and touches his hair lightly.

Ferdinand knots a trembling hand in the back of Enjolras' jacket, pulling him closer.

Enjolras sighs into the kiss and leans on him a little.

When they pause finally for breath, Ferdinand embraces him tightly for a moment. "Madness, my friend."

"It is," he agrees.

"I can't stay." At the same time his hands settle on Enjolras' shoulders as though he had no intention of moving for hours.

"Of course not." Enjolras touches his cheek.

Ferdinand closes his eyes a moment, and lets him go, carefully, as though he might fall and shatter.

Enjolras lets him go, then leans in and steals another kiss.

Ferdinand catches his hand, gazing at him a moment.

Enjolras blinks at him. "Yes -- m'sieur?"

"You are impossible," Ferdinand says roughly, and turns away. "Can you-- will you be here, two nights from now?"

Enjolras bites his lip hard at the first, and at the second, "What time?"

"Say nine o'clock."

"I'll be here."

"So will I." He is quiet a moment, looking at the floor, and when he speaks again, he sounds calmer. "I am sorry."

"What for?" Enjolras touches his shoulder lightly.

Ferdinand steps neatly out from under his hand, turning to face him again. "I hope this evening isn't entirely spoiled," all earnest goodwill, and yet suddenly impersonal; rather as if the last hour has been an unfortunate accident for which no one in particular is at fault: these things will happen.

Enjolras looks startled for a moment before he understands. "Not at all, your highness," with a shallow bow.

But Ferdinand catches at his shoulder. "Don't," softly. "Not here, not now."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," squeezing his shoulder gently. "I will see you later."

Enjolras nods. "Until then?"

"Until then. Good night," this last a little awkwardly.

"Good night." Enjolras smiles a little, nervously.

Ferdinand hesitates, then straightens and departs, quietly.

"Thank you," Enjolras says as the door closes.

Previous   -   Next