Chapter Text
Prologue
Enjolras doesn’t know a great deal about heat cycles in omega’s; as an alpha it was something he did not experience, and as a man dedicated to Patria it was something he had no interesting in learning. However Grantaire was neither of these things and Enjolras could practically calculate Grantaire’s heats by the fleeting days of sobriety he experienced for the duration of them. Whether Grantaire’s lack of drunkenness was out of necessity or comfort Enjolras didn’t bother to find out.
Until, of course, the day they get into another of their livid fights about Grantaire’s purpose with the Amis, and Grantaire turns to drink as he always does, and hours later Grantaire has gone through a dangerous number of alcoholic beverages and Joly is bordering on hysterical.
As two of the few omegas in their little group, Joly and Grantaire shared an unspoken bond no alpha could truly understand (one could include Feuilly, but God forbid he go to either of them for any kind of help or reassurance). They seemed to keep an eye on each other, especially as heats approached, though Joly has Bossuet and Musichetta to take care of him most times. Joly was the only one who knew the location of the safe place Grantaire holed himself up in when his heats came on, and refused to tell anyone where it was with a grim determination he normally saved for the insistence he was ill.
“A state of insobriety only advances the stages of a heat, and it leaves him vulnerable to... to less savoury types.” Joly blundered, and would have been packing his books away into his bag would his hands stop shaking enough to let him do so.
Combeferre backs up his story, claiming that inebriation can cause omegas to release more of their heat pheromone than usual due to lack of moderation. Bossuet calms Joly down enough to get him to listen to Combeferre’s plan to create a search party; each one of them would take different parts of the city, and Gavroche, who never seemed to sleep, would mediate between them should Grantaire be found.
By the time Enjolras and Courfeyrac find him, passed out in an alleyway with a greasy, dark haired alpha trying to forcefully pull him trousers off, his scent is strong enough to be sensed almost a block away.
Enjolras growls at the other alpha in a way he hopes sounds possessive enough to trick the man into believing Grantaire is theirs. Courfeyrac yelled and kicked up enough of a fuss to scare him off, and left Enjolras with Grantaire claiming he was “off to find Joly and that safe house, finally.”
Enjolras kneels beside Grantaire and shakes his shoulder, but Grantaire barely shuffles. Sighing – and trying not to breathe through his nose – Enjolras slides Grantaire’s arm over his shoulder and wraps his own around the drunk’s waist, lifting him easily. Grantaire is lighter than Enjolras imagined him, though with Grantaire’s diet of mostly drink it shouldn’t surprise him as it does. Before Enjolras can catch himself his nose is buried in Grantaire’s dark curls, breathing in deeply to capture the smell of omega. He pulls back sharply and almost drops his ward, before finally shuffling out of the alleyway in time to see Courfeyrac return at full speed, Gavroche and a puffing Joly in tow.
“Is he okay?” Joly asked. Courfeyrac skidded to a halt, pupils already blown wide from such proximity to the omega in heat. Joly fidgeted, side-eyeing Courfeyrac. “Maybe you should go...”
“No,” Courf barked, shaking his head as if to clear it. “This isn’t as easy as finding his alpha and leaving him be. He’s not bonded yet.” Enjolras had thought it a rumour spread by dirty minded schoolboys; Courfeyrac often noted un-bonded omegas were significantly needier in heat, and required more attention. Grantaire groaned in his ‘sleep’, digging his nose into Enjolras’ neck. The blonde stood as still as possible to avoid jostling him, though his muscles tensed.
“Let’s just get him to his... safe house. We’ll sort it all out then.” Enjolras sent Gavroche along with Joly, ordering the omega to find Bossuet and get home, lest the situation cause him more stress. Joly happily took off after giving them the address and pointing them in the right direction.
As it turns out, it was a night full of things Enjolras shouldn’t have found surprising but somehow did. Grantaire’s ‘safe house’ was an empty wine cellar beneath the Corinthe, chosen for its central location to all of Grantaire’s usual haunts and thick, seamless walls. The door itself had a deadbolt on both sides – the outside for locking away expensive wines, had there been enough in the store to fill it – the inner one clumsily added on, mostly likely by Grantaire himself. The cellar was mostly bare, besides a small table with a few short candles and a bed, piled with blankets of varying types. Enjolras practically threw Grantaire down onto it and backed away towards where Courfeyrac remained at the door.
“We can’t just leave him here.” Courf whispered, eyes not leaving the unconscious man. “This can’t be easy for him.”
“I’m inclined to agree; no man, not even a man like Grantaire, should be left to suffer,” added Enjolras, “but none of us exactly have the time or patience to stay with him for the remainder of his... episode.”
This was true. If it wasn’t classes, it was revolution-based business, and everyone who could be trusted with Grantaire was neck deep in work.
“We’ll take shifts,” blurted Courf suddenly. “No one will be away for too long, and there’ll always be someone here to make sure he’s okay.” Finally, the curly haired boy turned his eyes from Grantaire and looked up to Enjolras. The golden haired revolutionary himself sighed, rubbing slightly at his temples.
“Alright. You stay here; I’ll find the others and see who’s willing to stay with him.” Courf nodded, finally stepping slowly into the room and fidgeting for a moment before deciding to light a candle.
“Don’t forget to lock the door,” Enjolras announced, shutting the thick metal door behind him and taking off.
Only a few of the Amis spoke against taking a shift; Feuilly and Joly, for obvious reasons, and Bossuet to stay with Joly. Combeferre showed an interest in checking up on Grantaire medically, while Jehan just wanted to help in any way he could. Bahorel stated that he actually enjoyed Grantaire’s presence, drunk or not, and would happily help him out.
They stayed at the Musain well into the night, and went away with a plan.