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Summary
It is some difficult maneuvering, but Grantaire scrambles into Enjolras’ lap and curls his fingers in his hair, thumbs brushing against his ears. Enjolras is less hasty, but wraps his arms around him and pulls him closer. His tongue traces around Grantaire’s lips and then inside, around his teeth and the roof of his mouth, and Grantaire feels somewhat precious for perhaps the first time in his life. The sound of their breathing seems louder in the enclosed space of the confessional, right where God can hear them join together.
Series
- Part 7 of Hell, Paved with Priests' Skulls
