Chapter Text
"Move, god dammit. What the fuck is the hold up here?" Bahorel mutters angrily as he struggles to find his seat.
"People are fucking stupid," Courfeyrac says, stuck between an old lady and Feuilly.
"I just want to put my shit up," Eponine whines. "Mine and Gav's shit. Gav has a lot of shit.”
“Hey,” Gavroche says, trying to avoid getting squished by a young woman's probably fake boobs. “Comic books and snacks are important.”
Combeferre is quiet, but by his tight grip on his backpack strap, anyone can tell that he is stressed.
Jehan is the first to reach his seat and is putting his bag in the upper compartment when a flight attendant taps his shoulder.
"I'm sorry miss, you can't be standing on the armrest. It's quite dangerous. Would you like me to put your bag up for you?"
Jehan smiles at her sweetly, but his friends can see the hint of venom behind it.
"First of all dear," he begins. "I am not a 'miss'. I am very much a man. Please don't place people, especially me, into gender norms. Next, I'm very capable of standing on this armrest and putting my things up. I see that you aren't much taller than me, which means you would have to stand on the seat too. Wouldn't you be a hypocrite then?" He ends with another small smile. The flight attendant blushes and apologizes, quickly squeezing through the crowd to help someone else.
"My boyfriend is the best!" Courfeyrac crows, stretching across Combeferre and Feuilly to kiss Jehan.
"Even on a crowded plane, the ABC still preaches equality and justice," Grantaire mutters, earning a glare from his frustrated boyfriend.
::::
"Hello. This is your captain speaking. You are now en route to Honolulu from New York. We will be taking off soon."
Grantaire tunes out after that, partly because he's just not interested and partly because Enjolras is resting against his shoulder, his frizzy hair splayed across Grantaire's gray t-shirt. He's trying to enjoy it while it lasts, since Enjolras never does this in public unless he's exhausted. Courfeyrac and Jehan are sitting with them in the center row. They are both tucked under the airplane blanket and Courfeyrac is cuddled awkwardly against Jehan, the armrest digging into his side. Grantaire is always jealous of how laid back the couple is at showing affection in public. Enjolras would never give more than a light kiss or a small squeeze of the hand and Grantaire has to practically beg for even those sometimes. Eponine, Combeferre and Bahorel are sitting behind them with some creepy old man who is trying to hit on Eponine across Combeferre. Bahorel looks ready to attack him if Eponine doesn't first while Combeferre looks about to threaten the man with horrific forms of murder (which the Friends just may be able to pull off) if he continues. Gavorche, Musichetta, Joly and Bossuet are in front and Musichetta is playing cards with Gavroche. Since the tables aren't allowed to be down yet, the cards are stacked in their laps. Bossuet has tucked their bags and Musichetta's purse under the seats where Gavroche can't touch them. ("Do you guys not trust me? You are the worst!" "Gav, we just caught you taking twenty bucks from Feuilly's backpack." "Well, I almost got away with it...") Marius, Cosette and Feuilly are to the right of Grantaire. Marius has his face buried in Cosette's hair and is gripping her hand tightly. Cosette is talking to Feuilly animatedly about European history and Feuilly is enthusiastically responding with everything he know about Poland and surrounding countries.
"Seems like everything is going well. Everyone is happy," Grantaire informs Enjolras.
"Mm, well, it's good to know you didn't screw up," he replies, playing with Grantaire's fingers absently.
"Glad to know that you have so much faith in me," Grantaire says jokingly, but Enjolras can hear the insecurity creeping back into his voice.
"Of course I have faith in you," Enjolras says tenderly, securing his fingers around Grantaire's. Enjolras yawns (Grantaire almost whimpers at how much he looks like a cute little kitten.) and pulls the blanket out of its plastic bag.
"What a waste of packaging, especially on these shitty blankets," Enjolras mutters as he lays the blanket across his lap.
"No complaining to the flight attendants," Grantaire warns him. "Wouldn't want to start a revolution against shitty airplane blankets."
A flight attendant hears this and glares at Grantaire. Grantaire smiles charmingly back, but she just tells them to buckle up with a fake smile pasted on her face.
"We will now be lifting off. Please return tables and seats to their original position and fasten and secure your seat belts," a pleasant voice tells them. "Thank you, and enjoy your flight."
"Wait, oh no, oh no, oh no. I'm gonna be sick," Marius says, clutching Cosette's sweater.
"I'm really sorry you feel crappy Marius, but please don't throw up on me," Feuilly says urgently. "I'm freaked out enough by being on my first flight."
"Shh, it's okay darling. You're gonna be fine," Cosette murmurs, running her fingers through Marius' dark hair.
The plane starts rumbling and speeds down the runway. Gavroche is bouncing in his seat excitedly and Feuilly is staring in wonder out the window at the lights illuminating the runway. Enjolras smiles at his friends.
"It's good to know some people still are excited about flights."
"Are you not?" Grantaire asks tearing his eyes away from the screen, telling them the data of the flight.
"I've flown so often, it's lost its magic I guess. I do remember the first time on a plane and I was just like them."
"How many times have you flown on a plane?"
"Mm, probably at least once a year internationally since second grade. Sometimes two or three times."
Grantaire turns to stare at Enjolras. "Holy crap, no wonder you're used to it," Grantaire says.
"Well, how about you?"
"Exactly twice. Once to go to my grandma's funeral and once to bring my sister to boarding school."
"What? That's it? My family practically lived in planes."
Grantaire scoffs. "None of us have the money to jet off to random places annually."
Enjolras falls silent after that. Neither of them react when the plane gathers enough speed and finally takes off. Marius has become quiet but is visibly shaking. Feuilly is still staring open-mouthed out the window at the wing of the plane which can be barely seen in the darkness. Gavroche is struggling to get out of his seat to get to a window. Courfeyrac and Jehan are starting to get restless, giggling and touching each other unnecessarily. Grantaire peers around his chair to see if the man stopped hitting on Eponine or if he was dead yet. One of them must have threatened him with something terrifying because he is pressed as far away from Combeferre as possible. Eponine catches Grantaire's eyes and winks at him. Grantaire gives her a grin in return.
When the seatbelt sign finally turns off, Gavroche scrambles over to the back where the big window is. Eponine squeezes across Bahorel and follows her brother to the back. The flushed Jehan raises the armrest and climbs onto Courfeyrac's lap. Enjolras turns away from the kissing couple and scoots towards Grantaire.
"Now it's just getting inappropriate," he mutters in Grantaire's ear.
"Would this be inappropriate too?" Grantaire whispers back, his lips against Enjolras' ear and his hand creeping up his thigh under the blanket.
Enjolras jumps a little and turns bright red. "I-I believe it would be, so--oh!" He squeaks when Grantaire's hand barely brushes over the growing bulge in his jeans.
Courfeyrac stops sucking on Jehan's face to look over at Enjolras. He snickers and flashes Grantaire a thumbs up before Enjolras glares at him and he returns to making out.
Cosette also looks over after coaxing the now dozing Marius to take a sleeping pill. She laughs lightly and leans over to tell Musichetta. Musichetta turns and tells them, while chuckling, "If you boys are gonna touch each other's dicks then you should probably go to the restroom or you can do it here. Not judging," she finishes bluntly.
"W-What? I, uh, no--" Enjolras sputters, blushing even harder and gripping the armrest.
"I think we're good," Grantaire replies evenly, pulling his hands out of the blanket. "Besides, it might be occupied for a while," he says, gesturing towards Courfeyrac who is pulling Jehan along with him to the restroom in the back.
"What are they--?" Enjolras starts. "Oh. Never mind."
Grantaire laughs and pecks Enjolras' cheek. "You are so innocent sometimes."
"Shut up," he mutters.
"Good to see at least they're having fun," Bahorel says from the back, trying to arrange his long legs comfortably in front of him. Combeferre groans and Eponine laughs.
::::
Grantaire is really tired, really twitchy and really fucking horny, all at the same time. And it is a really fucking bad combination of things to be feeling.
Combeferre is listening to music with his eyes closed while Eponine plays on her phone. Feuilly has taken one of Enjolras' many textbooks that he packed in his impossibly heavy bag and is reading diligently. Musichetta is once again playing cards with Gavroche and Bahorel is cracking up at some movie that's playing on his phone. Everyone else except for Enjolras is dozing quietly (like Marius and Cosette who are cuddled against each other) or snoring loudly (like Courfeyrac who had come back with Jehan grinning and his hair messy.). Enjolras is studying, of all things to do on a vacation. Grantaire would usually be snuggled against him, but he is just to horny for any kind of physical touch, especially when Enjolras is looking as hot as he is. And he's studying. Studying is definitely not supposed to be that extremely hot.
Enjolras' hair has fallen out of its tie and is hanging loosely around his shoulders, framing his angelic face. (Golden hair spread on the bed sheets framing a flushed and panting face.)
His azure eyes are trained on the page of his textbook. (Blue eyes clouded with lust and desperation, begging for more.)
His full lips are red from being chewed. (A obscene moan torn from those lips, crimson from intense kissing and sucking.)
His long fingers twirl a silver pen absently. (Those fingers grasping dark hair as he cries out. "Grantaire!")
Grantaire shakes his head fiercely, trying to rid himself of the images even with a erection growing in his pants. Enjolras looks over at him, brushing his long bangs out of his eyes.
"Are you okay Grantaire?" (“Grantaire... I... I-- oh!")
Grantaire groans. "Fuck this," he mutters.
"What?" Enjolras says before Grantaire crashes their lips together hungrily. Enjolras freezes in surprise before dropping his pen and wrapping his hands around Grantaire's face.
When they finally break apart for a breath, Enjolras holds Grantaire at arms length. "W-We can't be doing this. We're on a plane, in public!"
"You didn't seem so opposed to it just seconds ago," Grantaire murmurs, pressing back in to nibble at Enjolras' neck.
"Well, yes, but-- ahh." Enjolras leans into Grantaire as he sucks on the juncture of neck and shoulder.
As Grantaire moves back to Enjolras' ear, he whispers huskily, "Follow me in thirty seconds."
"What?" Enjolras asks, his eyes widening.
"Just do it," Grantaire mutters, rising and walking towards the bathroom, not bothering to hide his very obvious boner.
"No. Grantaire, we can't be doing that," Enjolras says urgently, grabbing Grantaire's arm.
Grantaire swoops down for another kiss, trailing his hand along Enjolras' leg. "Aren't you turned on though? Knowing the kinds of things I'm gonna do to you in that bathroom, where anyone can hear you begging?"
Enjolras hesitates.
"Exactly," Grantaire says with a nod. He turns and strolls casually to the unoccupied restroom.
Grantaaire can feel Enjolras' eyes following his finely shaped ass all the way there.
::::
"Congrats on the sex," Courfeyrac greets Enjolras and Grantaire as they return to their seats.
"H-Huh? What? How did you-- I mean, what?" Enjolras sputters, his face turning red. Grantaire also blushes and scurries back to his seat, almost falling onto the sleeping Jehan.
"Enjolras, your hair is messy and untied, you're blushing, Grantaire's belt isn't buckled and you're smiling really big. And you two came back from the bathroom together. I'm not that dumb," Courfeyrac says.
Enjolras flushes deeper. "Oh," he says simply, slipping back into his seat and buckling his seatbelt.
"It's not a problem. Don't be embarrassed," Courfeyrac says. "Everyone does it at some point."
Enjolras doesn't respond.
"I mean, flights are boring and sometimes you just get really horny so what is there to do?" Courfeyrac is then thankfully cut off by the announcement over the intercom,
"We will been landing soon in Honolulu, Hawaii. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelt securely. The local time in Honolulu is 6:15 AM. The weather currently is clear. Thank you for flying with Hawaiian Airlines. Enjoy your day."
All around Enjolras, his friends start to wake up and look around confusedly.
"Are we there?" Jehan asks with a yawn.
"I think my neck is broken," Bossuet groans, cracking his neck after sleeping with his head resting on Joly's shoulder.
“Marius, are you okay?” Combeferre asks, craning his neck to see Marius. He is trembling with his hands covering his face.
“Apparently landings are the most dangerous part,” Cosette says.
“It is,” Marius mumbles.
“There is a one in one hundred sixty seven million three hundred sixty four thousand and sixteen that a plane will crash,” Bahorel says conversationally. “I saw it on some Discovery show.”
Marius whimpers. “There's still a chance!”
The plane dips down and quickly starts to descend. Enjolras sighs and leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. Cosette reaches for Marius' hand and squeezes it comfortingly.
“Sweetheart, you're going to be perfectly fine,” Cosette soothes.
The plane hits the ground and smoothly glides down the runway. Marius lets out a tiny scream and Feuilly flinches. “God, Marius. That freaked me out more than I already was.”
Finally, the plane stops and the passengers begin to talk and move around. Most people start to stand up and gather their things.
“Let's wait 'til most of the people get off,” Combeferre says reasonably, stretching his arms out above his head. “There will be less of a rush and less people to try and squeeze past.”
“Smart,” Bahorel mutters. “Wish they would hurry though.”
“Are you that excited for the magical beaches and sunshine and rainbows of Hawaii?” Courfeyrac asks. “Get ready for paradise.”