Basic info: modern gang au, Enjolras is the leader of a gang that is plotting to assassinate the tyrannical King in charge of France.

"Answer us, or your lover boy dies."

Enjolras looked helplessly at Grantaire, who was held by the captors - also known as the royal guard. He hadn't wanted it to come to this. It was just meant to be him and 'Ferre who went in for the stealth mission. But Combeferre had gotten sick from tending to a flu infected Courfeyrac with Joly, and Grantaire seemed adamant that he was not to go on the mission alone. And so, begrudgingly, Enjolras had let him come under the circumstances that he did not mess anything up.

Now look where they were.

"Enj, no..." Grantaire pleaded softly. "Don't answer them..."
"Silence." Commanded the soldier, whom Enjolras recognised as the very same who had shot his friend Eponine. "Answer or he dies. What are your plans to kill the king?"

He glared at the soldier, deciding to listen to Grantaire. It broke his heart to do so. But it was necessary for the cause. For France. "I will say nothing, neither confirm nor deny nothing. I will not be controlled by you. The King is a scoundrel. A dictator. A murderer. He is unfit to lead the country for France." Enjolras looked over and met Grantaire's gentle, ever loving gaze.
"I believe in you." He whispered, not stopping to ponder his amazement. When had the words 'I believe in you' started to hold the same meanings and value as 'I love you'?
Grantaire smiled sadly, knowingly, lovingly. "It will be over soon, E. I won't feel any pain."

And then it was done. Grantaire sank to the floor with a lifeless thump, a small pool of blood forming over his heart. How ironic was it that the blood formed the same pattern as their symbol, a sort of medallion decorated with red, white and blue. Though this one was all red. Enjolras hadn't even heard the gunshot, and yet his body still jumped as though he had. R was gone. His R was gone.

Something changed inside of him. Enjolras looked up at the soldiers with a newfound hate and anger. "Go on then. What else will it take for you to realise that there is nothing I wouldn't sacrifice for France?"
The soldier simply shrugged. "What about your life?"
"Bold of you to assume you haven't taken it from me already." Enjolras smirked. "Say. Shall we go get a drink? I'm rather thirsty. I think you'd find a drink would do you some good. You should loosen up. Come on. Drink with me, to days gone by."

"A drink will do nothing to help you, nor will it change your fate."
"And what would that be," asked Enjolras, battering his eyelashes innocently. "No screens before bed time? Is the King going to ground me? Oh, dear gosh. How frightening."
A rumble of dissent from the other soldiers were cut short by a flick of the main one's wrist. Enjolras and him were locked in an epic staring competition, his gaze getting harder and more infuriated as Enjolras' grew more snarky and defiant.

"I don't like your attitude, boy." Hissed the soldier.
"Well funny, I don't like yours either." Shot back Enjolras, finding that he enjoyed letting his anger out this way. "How 'bout we call a truce. I won't speak if you don't."
The soldier rolled his eyes, face going beet red. He leant in real close to Enjolras, so that his hot breath was felt on his neck. Enjolras didn't like this as much as when Grantaire did it when their arguments got more intense and heated. No, this just made him more angry.
"Now listen here," spat the soldier. "I don't have to let you out of here alive. I could kill you right here, right now. I could make your death slow and painful, and not once would I show mercy, not even if you let a little answer or two slip. So answer my questions, and be serious."

Enjolras broke their eye contact, mind flashing back to when he had said those very words to a certain Grantaire.
"You?" Enjolras spluttered, overcome with shock that Grantaire was offering to be useful to the cause.
"I. I would even polish your shoes, Enj. Anything for you. I believe in you."
Enjolras frowned, hoping to hide his subtle blush that was threatening to become less so.
"Grantaire, be serious."
When Enjolras looked back up at the soldier, there was tears in his eyes. The words he spoke next were spoken with two voices.

"I am wild."

Then he was gone. Eight bullets shot at once, one from each soldier, pinning him to the wall behind him. Enjolras died with defiance, quickly and painlessly. The light behind his newly cynical and sarcastic gaze dimmed and he drifted off into the welcome arms of his Grantaire.

Faintly, his ears registered Jehan's pained cry, and Bahorel's angered grunt as the soldiers were taken out. Joly was close behind them, med kit in hand. Enjolras knew that Joly wouldn't bring him back, wouldn't rip him out of the arms of R so soon after their reunion. No, Joly could see Grantaire's body lying in front of Enjolras', hand slightly outstretched as of reaching towards his Apollo. Joly understood.

Enjolras finally expired from the cruel world that he had fought for, and everything but Grantaire faded into nothingness. Grantaire was forever.

"Why'd you let them kill you?" Whispered R, holding E close to his chest.
"Because the minute I saw you hit the ground I realised - the life I was fighting so hard for would not be complete without you."

"I believe in you." Murmured Grantaire.
"I love you too." Enjolras whispered back.

Lmao watch me keep this story marked as complete but still add random oneshots based of prompts and headcanons