[Alex glances down at his rustled arm while Remi engages in his over-staring, looking something akin to a cat whose tail was being held.]
I can see that. I should have just opened a tab on the first go-round if it was going to be this bloody difficult...
[His lips twist to the side, stealing a glance at Remi before--]
Look, I'm not going to beat around the bush here: the group likes you. A lot. Michel can't shut up about how it feels you were meant to join, frankly. But that means I really can't have us at each's others throats. Fair?
[ The reply causes R to blink and he looks again up at the wall of glass bottles as though contemplating his options. ]
We’re gonna have our differences, and you don’t have to like me for us to be civil. Completely agree- Hey. Hey Maaaaatttt— [ The bartender looks full of friendly hatred as he shuffles over. ] Hi, my friend. Wine, please?
[ He points at the green bottle in the upper corner with a bat of his eyelashes. ]
You know... [He vaguely gestures to Remi's shoulder, arm, fingers, lips curved into that annoying smile, expectant eyes--] Being a...well, a shit.
[Yep, that is definitely the word for it. Enjolras's eyes flick over to the inattentive barman again because holy fuck, why doesn't he have a drink right now? He's thinking about all Combeferre's anger management strategies, about taking a step back when you're hot under the collar...]
Oh please, to what point exactly? Speak for yourself; you're being constantly antagonistic, for fuck knows what reason...
Point taken. Ah, but I didn’t know challenging you was being antagonistic. I thought you could use the insights from an opposite point of view, but if not, I’ll gladly just agree with you on every point. You can get no color, just nodding and praise. That’s how life works, to my understanding— you’re absolutely right. So.
[ The undying skeptic scrunches his eyebrows like he actually considers that, looking over to the increasingly frustrated angelic man and slides a finger around the edge of his glass. ]
[Look, so civil. He's not even crawling over the barstools to throttle him.
He watches that finger trace the edge of the glass and feels what he thinks is a twitch near his eye. He grabs those fingers, breathing harshly through his nose.]
[ R’s eyes almost go to the fingers on his, but the neurons don’t quite fire enough to motivate his gaze to leave E’s face. He’s too entranced by the ferocity behind those beautiful irises to look away. Instead, he smirks at the very corner of his mouth, tauntingly. But the smile doesn’t hit the creases of his eyes, giving him a rather bittersweet expression. ]
I’m being me, Alexandre. What exactly do you want me to cut out? This is how I am. How I’ve always been.
[His unwavering answer and gaze strikes Enjolras like lightning -- a bar filled with male laughter at his own expense, that same stubble smirk but now with a green waistcoat, linen sleeves he traces with his eyes downward until it ends with a firmly grasped bottle--
The vision and most memories of it are gone as soon as it came, and Enjolras lets go of Remi's fingers as if slapped.]
I don't--you're not-- [A breath.] I-I have to go.
[He steps back and away as fast as he without drawing too much attention to himself, eyes frantically scanning for an exit for a nicotine respite.]
[ The weird conflicted emotions that prompted Rémi’s response ends in a rapid series of blinks as the hand leaves his. His chest hurts, and he barely registers the man’s words as Enjolras rushed away. With a chuckle, R makes sure no one was still staring as he mumbled to himself. ]
Something I said?
[ The stubbled mouth parts and drains the wine glass before R leaves the barstool. With a turn, Rémi’s eyes scan the crowded space, but he lost track of the blond curls toward the back of the bar. He props his arm on the bar, debating another drink. There’s a hint of yellowish light as a side door opens and he smells the tobacco on a group of people coming back in from the alley. ]
Aha. [ Having followed the yellow lamplight, R holds the door open for the last two. But he doesn’t look at the people thanking him, instead staring down his abruptly departed conversationist. His eyes express the relief you have coming across the car keys you’d lost. ] Thought you’d left.
[Enjolras is almost halfway through his first cigarette because, really, what is moderation in the face of horrifying clarity and panic? He's about to draw in another long breath before he sees who's calling over to him.
Of course this man would sniff out the secondary vice to be had here.]
No, I...I didn't.
[Yes, thank you Enjolras, the man does have eyes. Mortified, he draws in a breath to give him time to think of an actual bloody answer and tilts his head upward to let out a long exhale, trying to imagine the smoke as tension leaving his body.]
Hah- Not that these things provide “air” by any means but I know what you mean.
[ R looks away- to the asphalt- as he pulls a single cigarette from the inside pocket of his jacket and rolls it slowly between his fingers unlit. He puts it between his lips after a moment and pats the denim over his jean pockets. ]
[Whatever words Enjolras planned on having with the scruffy brunette back in the bar, they all seemed to die out in the cold night air.]
Yeah, hard to breathe almost.
[Eyes transfixed, he reaches into his own jacket pocket and offers up a silver lighter, engraved on the side with an ornate 'E'. Feuilly bought it for him three "June" anniversaries ago.]
[ Out of the corner of his eye mid-search, R sees the extended lighter and mumbles thank you, taking it. His fingers touch E’s as he takes it and it feels like he got burned where the skin met. It was all in his head, right? Like everything else. With a wince he quickly takes it and looks at the silver trinket. ]
“E.” We’re back to that, huh? [ He starts to chuckle around the cigarette as he lights the flame. There’s a snort- the laugh tries to break free as he puts the lighter toward the cigarette and his stuttered breath blows it out. Another click, but it’s just as unsuccessful when it comes near the cigarette. There’s another, louder chuckle and he starts to laugh- and can’t stop for a moment. R is bent over and trying to regain himself, with the cigarette in his hand again so he doesn’t drop it. The wall on his back holds him steady, resting his palms on his knees while he guffaws. (That was a good wine and he didn’t sip it at the end there.) ]
No- [ He wheezes his laughter down slowly... finally. ]
Maybe a little? [ Truthfully, the alcohol isn’t affecting him as much as other things he’s been through tonight. And having his breath back helps. ] I just haven’t laughed in forever and, oi. I don’t know. I just remembered your- your face that night. Ah I don’t know what came over me. Maybe just the... stuffiness got to me. I’m fine.
[ R straightens up and realizes Alex had held his shoulder and can’t help but smile uo at him appreciatively as he leans back against the wall, still smiling. ]
[Distantly, Enjolras wonders if the low burning he feels in his chest is truly the result of the moment or the ghost of feelings, spurred by the fragmented memories of a man long dead. His hand reaches up to hesitantly brush dark stubble along Remi's jawline (this, this is the same, he knows that much) as he tries to conjure the man's face. It's useless; he has no comparison for Remi's hazel eyes, no memory to call back to in order to resurrect this other man's face...
He loved a man a lifetime ago, that much is clear. It's where he stands now, with this new stranger in this new era, that remains to be determined.
He leans in before he can remind himself of where he is (and if it matters) and kisses Remi with a small whine of desperation still caught in his throat.]
[ Rémi is about to pull back, chalking it up to the blond man perhaps being the one who has imbibed too much. Somehow, he smells the same, is that possible? Gunpowder and damp wool and sweat, combined with an indescribable musk that’s just— Rémi knows that he loved him once. He loves him still; Alexandre is as feisty and obstinate as Enjolras. The young man is fierce and strong, if not perhaps a bit more tamed by the modern era. R wonders how tame he would be wh— no. This is an alcohol-induced mistake he shouldn’t-
The whine. That noise and the brunette is undone. Rémi grabs Alexandre’s hips and pulls them into his own waist, and he kisses him back, sparks or flames - something electrifying and hot lances up just spine as he opens his mouth against the other man’s and feels his hot breath on him. ]
[Enjolras leans into the open-mouthed kiss with a renewed sense of urgency, hand cupping Remi's jaw like he could anchor himself with this soft grip. His other hand snakes around to grasp at the brunette's side, hand fisting into the jacket's thick cloth as he presses his hips even closer to back Remi further up against the wall.
It's not like he hasn't kissed people in this life-- lord knows the current social environment lends itself far better to the experience compared to his prior existence-- but this, this burns. He tries to open Remi's mouth further, explore and claim anything he can touch, taste...it feels at points as if he's drowning, but he refuses to come up for air.
(A flicker of memory; a bar cleared out, calling out to the faceless man, he needs to make it clear how he feels, before the funeral and the fight that follows; not now, he's dead, it's all gone, there's only this moment here now before you--)
He startles when the bar's rear door opens, pulling back from Remi's now certainly chapped lips to stare wide-eyed at the stranger intruding; he catches his breath as the person mutters a 'sorry' and retreats, hands still firmly gripping Remi's coat but unable to meet his eyes.]
[ Rémi laughs through his nose and relaxes his hold on Alexandre’s hips, which was firm enough to be slightly bruise-inflicting before. He looks at the blond man, but sees flushed cheeks and is unable to see his eyes. (Pity.) R almost bolts, telling himself he was right but he’s anchored by the hands on his coat.
Tentatively, R’s thumb hooks into the loop of Alexandre’s belt and he squeezes the man’s hip. Rémi’s other hand goes to push a lock of hair out of E’s fervent and avoidant eyes.
He thinks of something witty to say. His mouth opens to say it but, he’s speechless, with nothing that sounds important enough to break the moment in the aftermath. (Good job, Enjolras, better late that never to shut him up.) R can only manage to look him over, appreciating the bridge of his nose and the breath entering and leaving his lips in quick movements. ]
[Enjolras's mind is running at a frantic pace (what has he done?) but the soft brush against his temple, the lock of hair leaving his line of sight is oddly grounding. He finally glances back at Remi, sees those kiss-bruised lips and doesn't that just turn his stomaches into a flutter of activity. He leans back in, slow and deliberate, and gives him another short close-lipped kiss.
He doesn't know if it meant to be an apology or claim on his handiwork. Perhaps both.]
Do you... [He clears his throat, a slight dusting of pink on his cheeks; let's try this again.] Do you want to get out of here?
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I can see that. I should have just opened a tab on the first go-round if it was going to be this bloody difficult...
[His lips twist to the side, stealing a glance at Remi before--]
Look, I'm not going to beat around the bush here: the group likes you. A lot. Michel can't shut up about how it feels you were meant to join, frankly. But that means I really can't have us at each's others throats. Fair?
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We’re gonna have our differences, and you don’t have to like me for us to be civil. Completely agree- Hey. Hey Maaaaatttt— [ The bartender looks full of friendly hatred as he shuffles over. ] Hi, my friend. Wine, please?
[ He points at the green bottle in the upper corner with a bat of his eyelashes. ]
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I'd like to think I was perfectly civil, thank you. And I-I don't not like you, you just...
[He runs his fingers through his hair, slightly huffy because the words just won't work the way he wants them to and--]
...well, you know what you're doing.
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What am I doing, now?
internal enjolras: curse your sexy stupid face and shut up you're the rude one
[Yep, that is definitely the word for it. Enjolras's eyes flick over to the inattentive barman again because holy fuck, why doesn't he have a drink right now? He's thinking about all Combeferre's anger management strategies, about taking a step back when you're hot under the collar...]
Oh please, to what point exactly? Speak for yourself; you're being constantly antagonistic, for fuck knows what reason...
/bats eyelashes
[ The undying skeptic scrunches his eyebrows like he actually considers that, looking over to the increasingly frustrated angelic man and slides a finger around the edge of his glass. ]
Would that be preferable for you, Alex?
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[Look, so civil. He's not even crawling over the barstools to throttle him.
He watches that finger trace the edge of the glass and feels what he thinks is a twitch near his eye. He grabs those fingers, breathing harshly through his nose.]
I said cut it out.
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I’m being me, Alexandre. What exactly do you want me to cut out? This is how I am. How I’ve always been.
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The vision and most memories of it are gone as soon as it came, and Enjolras lets go of Remi's fingers as if slapped.]
I don't--you're not-- [A breath.] I-I have to go.
[He steps back and away as fast as he without drawing too much attention to himself, eyes frantically scanning for an exit for a nicotine respite.]
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Something I said?
[ The stubbled mouth parts and drains the wine glass before R leaves the barstool. With a turn, Rémi’s eyes scan the crowded space, but he lost track of the blond curls toward the back of the bar. He props his arm on the bar, debating another drink. There’s a hint of yellowish light as a side door opens and he smells the tobacco on a group of people coming back in from the alley. ]
Aha. [ Having followed the yellow lamplight, R holds the door open for the last two. But he doesn’t look at the people thanking him, instead staring down his abruptly departed conversationist. His eyes express the relief you have coming across the car keys you’d lost. ] Thought you’d left.
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Of course this man would sniff out the secondary vice to be had here.]
No, I...I didn't.
[Yes, thank you Enjolras, the man does have eyes. Mortified, he draws in a breath to give him time to think of an actual bloody answer and tilts his head upward to let out a long exhale, trying to imagine the smoke as tension leaving his body.]
Just really needed some air I guess.
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[ R looks away- to the asphalt- as he pulls a single cigarette from the inside pocket of his jacket and rolls it slowly between his fingers unlit. He puts it between his lips after a moment and pats the denim over his jean pockets. ]
Lots of people in there tonight, yeah? Stuffy.
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Yeah, hard to breathe almost.
[Eyes transfixed, he reaches into his own jacket pocket and offers up a silver lighter, engraved on the side with an ornate 'E'. Feuilly bought it for him three "June" anniversaries ago.]
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“E.” We’re back to that, huh? [ He starts to chuckle around the cigarette as he lights the flame. There’s a snort- the laugh tries to break free as he puts the lighter toward the cigarette and his stuttered breath blows it out. Another click, but it’s just as unsuccessful when it comes near the cigarette. There’s another, louder chuckle and he starts to laugh- and can’t stop for a moment. R is bent over and trying to regain himself, with the cigarette in his hand again so he doesn’t drop it. The wall on his back holds him steady, resting his palms on his knees while he guffaws. (That was a good wine and he didn’t sip it at the end there.) ]
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Oh yeah, I told you, it's a running jo--
[He sees Remi lean just too far to the right and he's on him, gripping his shoulder with one hand while bracing against the wall with the other.]
Are you drunk already...?
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Maybe a little? [ Truthfully, the alcohol isn’t affecting him as much as other things he’s been through tonight. And having his breath back helps. ] I just haven’t laughed in forever and, oi. I don’t know. I just remembered your- your face that night. Ah I don’t know what came over me. Maybe just the... stuffiness got to me. I’m fine.
[ R straightens up and realizes Alex had held his shoulder and can’t help but smile uo at him appreciatively as he leans back against the wall, still smiling. ]
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He loved a man a lifetime ago, that much is clear. It's where he stands now, with this new stranger in this new era, that remains to be determined.
He leans in before he can remind himself of where he is (and if it matters) and kisses Remi with a small whine of desperation still caught in his throat.]
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The whine. That noise and the brunette is undone. Rémi grabs Alexandre’s hips and pulls them into his own waist, and he kisses him back, sparks or flames - something electrifying and hot lances up just spine as he opens his mouth against the other man’s and feels his hot breath on him. ]
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It's not like he hasn't kissed people in this life-- lord knows the current social environment lends itself far better to the experience compared to his prior existence-- but this, this burns. He tries to open Remi's mouth further, explore and claim anything he can touch, taste...it feels at points as if he's drowning, but he refuses to come up for air.
(A flicker of memory; a bar cleared out, calling out to the faceless man, he needs to make it clear how he feels, before the funeral and the fight that follows; not now, he's dead, it's all gone, there's only this moment here now before you--)
He startles when the bar's rear door opens, pulling back from Remi's now certainly chapped lips to stare wide-eyed at the stranger intruding; he catches his breath as the person mutters a 'sorry' and retreats, hands still firmly gripping Remi's coat but unable to meet his eyes.]
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Tentatively, R’s thumb hooks into the loop of Alexandre’s belt and he squeezes the man’s hip. Rémi’s other hand goes to push a lock of hair out of E’s fervent and avoidant eyes.
He thinks of something witty to say. His mouth opens to say it but, he’s speechless, with nothing that sounds important enough to break the moment in the aftermath. (Good job, Enjolras, better late that never to shut him up.) R can only manage to look him over, appreciating the bridge of his nose and the breath entering and leaving his lips in quick movements. ]
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He doesn't know if it meant to be an apology or claim on his handiwork. Perhaps both.]
Do you... [He clears his throat, a slight dusting of pink on his cheeks; let's try this again.] Do you want to get out of here?
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[ Rémi has a ghost of a smile and a less than spectral glint in his eye. ]
If you’re coming with me.