Archive of Our Own ^beta

There was no way either one of them would get out unscathed. Or alive, possibly. Changing the world wasn't a safe, sensible hobby for good boys. There will be sacrifices, they both knew it, and the sacrifices might as well be them. It was rotten work, giving it all for a future they won't get to see.

"I want to ruin our friendship, Maxime", he whispers, his lips soft against Robespierre's skin. If they were doomed from the start, if they were to fall apart, to burn out and fade away, then they could very well do so as lovers, not friends. Camille kisses him, almost trying to taste the subtle bitterness of the later betrayal he knew was coming for them. But he doesn't, there is no grand metaphor, not a dramatic foreshadowing of what's coming in act 4, just a gentle aftertaste of a ripe orange. Camille kisses him again and again, the silence of a June evening the only witness of their union. He kisses him goodbye, knowing they have to part ways soon. They both had a part to play. It wasn't a fairy tale, a true love's kiss couldn't save them. Not from their fate.

"I need you to ruin me, Maxime", he whispers frantically, barely managing to string together a few words between kisses. "I need you..."
I need you to kiss me, love me, spit in my mouth, pull my hair, slap me, fuck me, call me names, call me your sweet, beloved Camille, hurt me, hold me, remind me-
He can't finish. He lets the kisses speak for himself, he lets his hands roam, tearing off Robespierre's impeccably white shirt.
He missed him. He didn't quite realize that before, he managed, he lived on his own, but now, now that they are reunited... God, how could he go on without Maxime? How could he stand being alone again?
With Maxime... it was different. It was real. Maxime wouldn't just leave him without a word. He wouldn't say what they had was a mistake, a spontaneous decision he regrets, or something he did only because he was drunk and lonely. Maxime would never treat him like this, he'd never discard him, he'd never use him like this.
They weren't soulmates, not quite, but they were the two sides of the same coin, the two opposites that never quite met in the middle, and as Camille felt their teeth clash against each other in more and more passionate kisses, they were two lines that crossed perfectly at the right moment never to cross again, like two comets, both bright and burning, crossing paths in mathematically impossible odds.
But comets burn out, lines cross only once on the plane, and he knows it will all go downhill from now on - but not tonight, tonight they burn together, tonight will last an eternity in Camille's memories, and no matter what happens tomorrow or in five years, they will stay together in that moment, they will be young and in love.

"I will ruin you, Maxime", he sighs, softly, almost lovingly, even though there's steel in his gaze. It's too late now. He's as good as dead, and he knows it. But if he's going down, Robespierre is going with him. He might now know it yet, but he will, oh, he will.
He's killing the only person who's ever truly loved him, truly understood him, and he will suffer for that. This is his curse, the price to pay for severing the sacred bond between two halves of the same spirit. He will be alone, desperately, painfully alone - and no pretty boy in a military uniform will ever be able to change that. For Robespierre's sake, he hopes death will come for him soon, before his own mind, his own memory, haunts him into insanity.
Fate has brought them together and tore them apart, but it's Camille that will destroy Maxime - whether fate wants it or not.