Work Text:
Outside of his window snow was falling. The people down on the street were hurrying over with their heads bent low. They were probably on their way home to their families, spending the days of late December in front of a fireplace with their loved ones.
Meanwhile, Enjolras was sitting in front of his window, with nothing better to do than watching people on the street. He was grounded. How do you even get the idea to ground a seventeen-year-old? He had no idea. But his parents had had the idea and now he was spending two weeks without anywhere to go and without his phone or laptop.
If world war three was to break out, he would miss it.
Apparently, they had considered it offensive, that he had told his grandmother off for her straight up homophobic remarks at yesterday’s family dinner. Of course, his parents blamed it on his friends and had decided to ground him for the holidays.
It was only Saturday and Enjolras missed them. He glanced at the clock on his wall, an ugly heirloom, that was ticking way too loud. It showed 8 pm and he sighed, letting his look fall back on the street. His friends were meeting up today for a last get-together, before the horrors of Christmas with the family. This year Courfeyrac had decided they would do a Secret Santa and Bahorel’s present was lying on Enjolras’ desk, neatly wrapped and ready to be given to him.
They didn’t even know he wouldn’t be there, it made Enjolras angry. It was one thing for his parents to not agree with his world-view, but isolating him completely was just uncalled for. He had tried everything, arguing with them (what had led to them taking his laptop in the first place), ignoring them and he had tried to get out. But without much success. They lived in his great-great-grandparents old villa, which meant that they had one of those ridiculously high garden fences, that was like a freaking wall.
And his parents had taken away his key for the gate. So Enjolras had ended up in the garden, trying and failing to climb the wall. Before he froze to death he had given up and got back into his room.
So now he was stuck in his room, while his parents were hosting a party with his father’s colleagues. Sighing Enjolras got up from his place. He was tired of staring out the window, so he let himself on his bed and grabbed for the books that were strewn all over it. Most of them were textbooks from school, and not even he wanted to waste a thought on schoolwork on a Saturday night. In the end, he picked a new book Combeferre had gotten him for his birthday, but he had never gotten around to read.
*
It took him about ten minutes to fall asleep and Enjorlas dreamed of Christmas with his friends in a not so far away future, where none of them would have to deal with their parents or other relatives. They were sitting on the floor of, what looked like Cosette’s living room. A tall Christmas tree was standing in one corner of the room and classical music was coming out of the stereo.
Cosette and Marius were bringing food to the table, while Courfeyrac and Gavroche together where whining about wanting to open up the presents before dinner. Combeferre was hugging his boyfriend, telling him that he could open up one if it would shut him up. The sofa was occupied by Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta, who was holding their daughter in her arms. It was the first Christmas for the youngest part of their group and she apparently slept through it. Jehan was busy messing up, or as he said “fixing it” the decorations. Somehow he had even managed to drag Montparnasse with him, although the latter one wasn’t really comfortable around their group of friends.
“Too many rightful people”, he usually said.
“You better get up, I stood in the kitchen for way too long for this to get cold.”, Éponine shouted from the kitchen before she joined them in the living room carrying a large casserole.
“You heard her Apollo.”, a voice from next to him said. Enjolras hadn’t noticed Grantaire standing there. He smiled at him.
“Yeah, I am starving.”
“Oh really? You spent most of the day working, so that’s your fault.”, Grantaire shrugged, and then kissed him on the cheek. “You know I believe, that one day you will be able to change the world, but only if you take care of yourself.”
Enjolras smiled and kissed him back on the lips.
It was short but sweet. A reassurance.
“I know you have told me this like a million times.” The other man took his hand and they walked over to the large table. Next to Grantaire Enjolras felt calm and finally able to truly enjoy Christmas.
Dinner had gone well and after that, they all got back to their spots all over the living room. Grantaire guided him to the sofa, sitting next to him. Enjolras snuggled up to him, feeling comfortable in Grantaire’s embrace. It was everything he had ever hope for and more.
“You know, I lo..”
*
A knock on his window woke Enjolras up and he groaned as he lifted his face the book. That had been anything but comfortable. There was another knock and Enjolras hurried to find the light switch in the dark, grumbling.
He hadn’t really caught up with what exactly he had dreamed when he found it and the small light from the lamp on his bedside table bathed the room in the faint light. “It had been about Christmas and his friends. Jehan and Montparnasse had finally gotten their shit together.”, he thought. But there had been something else. Well, it hit him at the latest when he stumbled over to his window and opened it.
“Grantaire!”, he exclaimed.
He had been in love with Grantaire. In his dream!
And of course, it was him, who was standing on Enjolras small balcony with a sheepish smile.
“Yeah. Hi. Uh, can I probably come in? I am afraid I cut myself on my journey up here.”
Still, a bit lost in his thought Enjolras nodded and stepped aside to let him into his room.
As it turned out Grantaire had indeed cut himself on one of the award-winning climbing roses Enjolras mother had planted near the fence. When he examined the cut in the low light he swore and then hissed as he touched it.
“Fucking shit, what did your mother plant there?”
”Ugly flowers. Wait, I have plasters somewhere. And stop touching it for god’s sake!” Grantaire murmured a response, but Enjolras was too busy searching to listen.
Not much later Grantaire’s hand was bandaged and the two boys were sitting on Enjolras’ bed. While he had treated the wound Enjolras had done his best to not think about his weird dream. But now as they were facing each other and only the faint voices from downstairs were interrupting the silence, his mind wandered back. Did he really have feelings like this? On one hand, Enjolras was sure that he would have noticed by now but on the other hand… he had never experienced such feelings before. He really needed to talk to Combeferre or Courfeyrac.
“Hey, are you even listening?”, Grantaire’s voice startled Enjolras and he blushed slightly.
“Uhm, no sorry. What was it?” The other boy gave him an amused look.
“As I said, we were worried, when you didn’t show up today. And then Courfeyrac said you haven’t responded to any messages and we were quite sure you must have staged another revolution. One that apparently wasn’t successful either.”, he looked around the room with a smirk.
Enjolras rolled his eyes.
“Not a revolution, there were no chairs stacked on top of each other this time. But yeah I am grounded for the next few weeks, no laptop, no phone. And no critical thinking.” The last one came out with an annoyed sigh.
“But why are you here?”, because while yes he and Grantaire were friends, it wasn’t like they were particularly close. He would have expected Courfeyrac or Combeferre to come to his rescue, not him.
“Oh yeah, look.”, Grantaire rummaged in his bag and took out a small present. It was wrapped, horrendously, in bright red gift wrap.
Oh.
He put it in front of Enjolras.
“Surprise I am your secret Santa! Anyway since I wanted to give you your present, even when you are in captivity I decided to drop by.”, he shrugged.
“The rest wanted to come to, but Courfeyrac and Bahorel were already too drunk, Combeferre wouldn’t leave Courf alone, Éponine needed to go home to Gavroche and for the love of god I will not let a high Jehan try to climb a fence, so I volunteered. And look what it got me.” He raised his cut hand with a crooked grin. “I almost lost my hand trying to save the gent in distress.” Grantaire winked at Enjolras and then nudged him.
“And before you ask, no I am not in a hurry to get back. I am here to stay, if you want me to, you look bored to death. And now open it!” The excitement in his voice made Enjolras laugh.
“I don’t want to keep you away from the party.”, Enjolras replied, but he was already taking the present. It was heavy and he wondered what Grantaire had gotten him. Carefully he unwrapped the paper and gasped when he saw what was inside it.
It was a book, looking quite old, the cover was nearly ripped at some places. “I hope its nice enough. I know you keep going on about how to treat books, but…” He broke off as Enjolras impulsively fell around his neck.
“It’s perfect. Thank you! How did you know? Where did you find it? I… Thank you, you have no idea how much it means to me.” Enjolras didn’t know how to stop talking, this was so much. Grantaire had found what he had been searching for for years. Between them on his bed lay the first edition of one of his favorite novels. It was perfect. Grantaire had put his arms around Enjolras back and was patting him a bit helplessly.
“My aunt in Lyon has a friend, whose daughter works in an antique shop and she found it for me.” He shrugged and then tightened his grip on the other boy. “I am glad you like it.” Enjorlas let out a laugh.
“Like it? I love it, this is perfect. You have no idea how much this book has shaped me.” Grantaire snorted.
“Only you would be inspired by something like this. But at least you’re not inspired by the Communist Manifesto, so I count this as a win.” Enjolras huffed and tugged on one of Grantaire’s curls. “Oh shut it. I know you don’t believe that the world can be changed…”
“No, you got me wrong there. I think it can be changed, but it won’t be as easy as many hope. It’s work and most people hate work. So I don’t believe in anybody. But you know I believe, that one day you will be able to change the world. I have told you many times.”
Enjolras froze as the words sunk in. That couldn’t be true. He had heard Grantaire say these words before. He brought a bit more space between them, still holding on to Grantaire and looking in his eyes. It made him wonder if they have ever been this close before. He could see the specs of green in Grantaire’s blue eyes and the small scratches from his mother’s roses. It was like everything fell into place, everything he had ever thought about Grantaire suddenly made sense. Were Courfeyrac here, he would call Enjolras an oblivious idiot.
But he wasn’t.
So without thinking about it, Enjolras closed the space between them again kissing Grantaire.
This felt right.
“If you believe in me, I can do anything.”