Chapter 23

The image of Enjolras’ face, of his bare chest, the feeling of his hands, it was one Grantaire couldn’t forget, not even when he was sitting with Éponine for the usual change of information. He couldn’t keep his focus on the smalltalk. When Éponine told him Combeferre had been followed by soldiers, he could just think about how Enjolras had followed the muscles on Grantaire's chest with his fingers. When she told him how Javert had started with searching the warehouse in order to find forbidden stock, he could only think how forbidden it had been when Enjolras' lips had touched his.

Éponine smacked his arm. "Where are you with your thoughts?" she asked him. They were out of earshot from the other customers of the pub. It was a quiet night tonight, with most people lying in their bed. Even the usual customers were afraid to be accused of something illegal, when in reality they just wanted to drink a beer.

With Javert's protection, Grantaire was one of the people who could freely roam the town.

He shrugged. "Just… the current events," he said. Éponine nodded.

"It seems like Javert has turned everything upside down," she said. Everything seemed different since the inspector had arrived. "I just can’t believe it."

But they had to believe it, as they were living in it. Sometimes it felt easier to keep thinking about Enjolras' lips than this reality.

---

Grantaire had barely settled at home when there was a knock on his door. Once again it turned out to be Joly standing there. Once again they both knew Joly hadn’t just come for the pleasure of Grantaire's company.

"How is everyone?" Grantaire asked while welcoming Joly inside. He knew exactly what Joly had come for, and he wishes he could just skip the question. There was a letter lying on his table with the official stamp of inspector Javert. That was something he was also ignoring.

"They are doing well, according to the circumstances," he said. "Bossuet has completely recovered, even though he still tries to use it to get spoiled.

Grantaire laughed. "Don't tell me you're not spoiling him. We both know you do."

Joly laughed too. "Guilty, guilty," he said. "You know me too well."

It almost felt like old times, sitting together in the kitchen while talking. For a moment it felt okay, until Joly had to change the subject.

"I came here for another reason too," he said. Grantaire merely nodded. He had known that.

"They're putting Enjolras on trial," Joly began.

"So I’ve heard."

"And they want you to testify. Which means we have the advantage here. We're currently working on a speech for you for the trial, and are working on some other people who will testify. If we play it right, we can get him out of there."

It sounded so easy, as Joly explained. Combeferre would be Enjolras' lawyer, they would get some people to talk about Enjolras in his defense. But Grantaire would be the big turning point. He was asked (ordered? More like ordered) to testify against Enjolras, not in his defense. If he would tell about the good things Enjolras did, it would have an impact on the jury.

"The inspector will be angry," Joly warned him. "He will not like that you’ve gone against his orders and will possibly try to harm you. We will have your back of course and do everything to keep you safe, but you must be aware of the risks you're taking, even with the mayor’s protection. Do you understand?"

Grantaire nodded. That simple gesture felt so difficult to make. "Yes I understand."

"Do you want to join?"

The question Enjolras had warned him for. The question he had been trying to postpone this entire evening.

"Yes," he said. Even that simple word was difficult to speak. "Yes I'll help. Anything to help Enjolras," he lied through gritted teeth. He heard Enjolras' voice inside his head. Do you trust me? He was betraying his friend here, was making promises he knew he couldn’t keep. He had made another promise to another man, and he needed to honor that promise.

But Joly wouldn’t understand. When they would be standing in court and Grantaire wouldn’t tell everyone Enjolras was an honorable man, he would be heartbroken. Even when being a pirate, the cook really cared about honesty and loyalty. Grantaire would betray his trust, and he wasn't sure whether he would ever win it back.

But with those blue eyes looking at him from the back of his mind, how could he not listen?

---

Entering the building the day after felt even more weird. Everything seemed to be in motion, Grantaire had gotten the official invitation, Joly had asked him to plead their cause. And after the day before he definitely didn't know how to react to Enjolras anymore. What should he say? Was he supposed to act like it never happened, just like those times before? Greet him with a kiss? Were they even something more than friends with benefits, a fucking one night stand because they were lonely and scared? Were they even friends?

Enjolras was once again sitting at the table when Grantaire entered. It made sense, of course. What else would he do here? Except for lying on the bed, or standing in a corner there was not much to do. Even the titles of the books he had gotten seemed boring, let alone the content.

This time Grantaire didn’t announce he brought breakfast. It was quite obvious he had, especially as he was officially paid to bring Enjolras breakfast.

Instead he walked in, put the food on the table and announced his present with different words. "I got a letter asking me to testify," he said.

Enjolras smiled. He seemed content by this. He should be, as it was exactly as he predicted. "Good," he said. He stood up, took Grantaire's hand in his. Grantaire suddenly shivered. Some definitely not forgotten traces on his body were suddenly alert again. His body hadn’t forgotten how Enjolras' fingers had touched his skin.

"Joly asked me to defend you."

"Good," Enjolras repeated himself.

"I said yes." Grantaire still wasn't sure he had made the right choice by following this… this lunatic. He hadn’t forgotten how Enjolras had seemed to give up everything just a few days ago. What if it was all part of his game? What if he was just using Grantaire for a fucking suicide mission? A pretty dramatic one, but Enjolras seemed to be the one with a flair for dramatic.

It was almost as if Enjolras could hear his thoughts, as he squeezed Grantaire’s hand. "Are you sure you're up to this?" he asked softly.

Grantaire shook his head. "No, I'm not," he answered. He fucking wasn’t. Betraying his friends, sentencing someone to death. It was quite a lot to ask from a person.

Enjolras smiled softly. "I know I ask a lot," he said. "And I can’t tell you anything. It's just too dangerous for you to know. All I can do is ask you to trust me. I know that’s too much to ask of a person, and yet I do."

Grantaire blinked. He blinked again. His eyes felt so watery. It was a foul attempt to hide it from Enjolras, and a failed attempt, as the man pulled him close into a hug. Enjolras had never seen like the hugging type of people, but somehow his hug just felt right.

"Can you tell me it will be alright?" he whispered. He needed to hear it was all going to be okay. That they were all going to survive this and live happily ever after.

"You’ll be fine," Enjolras whispered back.

Somehow, it didn't feel comforting.