Work Text:
Grantaire stirred, blinking away the sleep in his eyes.
The silence of the room rang in his ears, stray black curls falling in his eyes. He sat, for a second, now awakened from his drunken slumber. Hidden behind a billiard table, Grantaire glanced over at figures in the room, surrounding a man in red, blurred voices yelling and shouting. Bayonets pointed, light pouring in behind the man in red.
Enjolras.
Fearless even in the face of death, lips pinched together, a halo of golden sunlight radiant behind him. A warm breeze blew through the Musain as Grantaire sat there, breathing in Enjolras' solemn beauty, wind tossing his blonde hair gently, a red flag in his hand flying ever so gently to the side. It suddenly struck Grantaire, at that moment - they were about to kill him. They were about to kill Enjolras, and only now did he realize - he had loved Enjolras.
Only now did it hit him that he had loved Enjolras more than he had loved any other human and yet had never told him.
The guards, unaware of his presence, inched closer and closer to Enjolras, the blades at the tips of their bayonets gleaming in the sunlight, stained with the blood of his friends.
It was just them now, in the Musain, the quiet surrounding them, and Grantaire felt a tug at his heart, a feeling he had never felt before, something warm and yet so painfully icy at the same time. Was it fear? Hope? Love?
He would learn in due time.
"Take aim!" called a sergeant. Enjolras stood still, blue eyes sharp, unflinching.
Grantaire felt his heart shatter and fall to the floor, his chest tight. Standing up, he dodged the table and stood in front of it.
"Long live the Republic!" he called. "I'm one of them."
The heads of the guards turned, casting a cruel look at Grantaire, now illuminated in the afternoon's glow. Enjolras, now looking in the same direction as the guards, right at him, had a certain look in his eyes, a certain pain.
Grantaire had never seen him like this before.
Taking a breath, he steadied himself, before calling once again:
"Long live the Republic."
Crossing the room with a firm stride, he settled himself beside Enjolras, casting a quick smile at Enjolras, who was still too much in shock to smile back. Grantaire then turned back to look at the guards, extending his hand to Enjolras, who did not take it then.
"Finish both of us at one blow," said Grantaire, breathing heavily.
He held back tears, before turning to Enjolras, a bittersweet smile slipping onto his face.
"Do you permit it?"
Enjolras' response came in the form of their hands meeting, his fingers clasping gently around Grantaire's rough hand.
Out of all the things he wanted to say now, he had one thought on his mind.
If there is another life, let me meet you in it, Enjol-
He did not manage to finish this thought as a bullet pierced him, right in his very heart, as he collapsed to the floor at Enjolras' feet, blood staining the wood below him.
If there is another life, please, God, let me meet you in it, Enjolras.
~
August 15th, present day
Enjolras taps his foot, pulling his coat closer to him.
The train station is cold and frigid in the winter, a sea of people swarming around him as he pushes his way through, making his way to the platform, luggage in hand and a book and coffee in the other. Somehow, he doesn't spill the warm drink on himself, dodging a commuter on their phone. Despite the cold, and despite his somewhat stern demeanor, he can't help but beam like an idiot, getting onto the train and handing over his ticket before sitting down.
The green countryside rolls by as he thinks of what's to come, the date he has planned for today, and he plans for it to be perfect. He rarely sees R now, with all the work he has - Grantaire busks in the big cities, an artist, a dreamer - the other half of him.
Gently, Enjolras fidgets with the red beaded bracelet on his wrist, letting himself relax. The inside of the train carriage somehow smells like warm cinnamon buns, fresh out the oven. The scent reminds him of Grantaire.
Grantaire, with his big, beaming smile, his crooked teeth, rough but sweet voice.
Grantaire, Enjolras' home.
The train pulls into its station around an hour later, as bustling commuters squeeze past Enjolras to get off the train. Enjolras glances around, and his heart skips a beat for a single second as his eyes land on one person in the crowd. Stubble on his chin, curls of hair astray, and arms wide open.
"Grantaire," breathes Enjolras.
"Enjolras," says Grantaire.
They hardly care anymore as they run toward each other, people clearing out the way as they hurtle through the people, before collapsing into a giant heap on the floor, Enjolras' luggage thrown on the ground beside them. They attract some weird looks, but Enjolras couldn't care less. He leans in, touching foreheads with Grantaire, who's beaming like an idiot. They stick out, red and green against a gray background.
"I missed you, R."
"I missed you too, Enj."
"It's been a bit of a mess since you left."
The apartment is covered in sheet music, sticky notes, and polaroids - their memories from their last summer, the one Enjolras had been able to come over for. It's just the same as Enjolras remembers it, a small room filled with bookshelves and random objects. Dim sunlight filters in through a large glass window which overlooks gloomy houses, and the warmth of the room contrasts this. An upright piano sits in the corner of the room, and a guitar sits next to it. The piano's cover is pulled untidily over it, sheets of handwritten music littered on top. Grantaire notices this, flushing, and dashes in to clean up the music, sweeping it into his arms, leaving a laughing Enjolras at the door.
"Yeah, sorry, it's a bit, uh- haphazard. Messy," coughs Grantaire, pacing around the room a bit, sweeping aside papers and rearranging. "But on the bright side, I did happen to pack up our bedroom, so there's that?"
"R, I know I left for work and come back every once in a while, but just-" Enjolras glances around. "Treat it as your own place. I don't come back that often now," he says softly.
Silence follows as Enjolras awkwardly picks up his suitcase, walking through a corridor to his right, before ducking into Grantaire's room. Technically, they shared this room when they studied in university around here, but since Enjolras moved to the country for work in a smaller town as a teacher, Grantaire had been living here himself. Enjolras sets himself down on the bed, which is made nicely. The sheets are tucked in, and the room is slightly less chaotic than the room outside. Placing his suitcase down at the foot of the bed, he goes to a window in front of the bed, he draws open the curtains to let light in. He's missed this place. Enjolras takes a seat on the bed.
"Being all serious?"
Grantaire's leaning on the doorframe, smiling gently at Enjolras, whose blonde curls are falling messily in front of his face, coat now drooping off his shoulders.
"Yes. Yes, I am, R."
Enjolras' lips curl up as Grantaire goes over, taking a seat next to him, and they both fall backwards onto the sheets, arms splayed out, Grantaire beaming.
"Welcome home. It's been lonely without you here."
Enjolras only nods and hums lightly, curling closer to Grantaire, holding him close. Grantaire puts his arms around Enjolras in return.
"It's good to be back."
Enjolras wakes alone to the sun setting outside the window, blankets pulled over him. His hair is splayed out across the pillow behind him, and he hears movement in the next room. He's still wearing what he wore on the train, minus his coat, which he assumes Grantaire would've taken off before tucking him in. Smiling at this, he gets up in his plain office shirt and black pants.
Thank God this shirt's one of my loose ones, he thinks, glancing at the baggy sleeves.
"Sleeping Beauty's finally woken up."
R is standing at the door, smiling, arms crossed across his chest. Enjolras snorts lightly.
"Don't even try that sappy shit on me," he says, pacing over and gently brushing away black curls from Grantaire's hair, slightly leaning down to lightly kiss his forehead. "So what's the time?"
Grantaire glances at his watch, before glancing back up at Enjolras.
"Pretty late. In the afternoon, that is - do you want dinner Enj?"
"Sounds good. Can I help out?" Enjolras grins at R, swinging his arms around R's neck. Red blush creeps over Grantaire's face quickly.
"Yeah! Sure-"
Enjolras laughs lightly, before suddenly scooping R into his arms. Grantaire lets out a little yelp of surprise, letting himself be lifted and carried off into the kitchen.
"I did not think by making dinner, or offering to help, you meant baking."
Grantaire blows a flour-covered curl out of his face, deadpaning at Enjolras, who, now having lost all seriousness, is holding a tray of scones, bouncing faintly on his feet and grinning like a golden retriever. They're standing in the kitchen, Enjolras now with his sleeves rolled up and wearing a red apron covered in dough pieces and splatters, Grantaire (who did not, in fact, think to wear an apron as he was sorely unprepared to bake) covered almost head to toe in flour.
"Well don't I look delightful," R says, glancing at himself in a mirror across from the kitchen counter. "Absolutely positively glowing right now. Summer makeover."
Enjolras walks up behind him, patting him on the head as more flour flies out from the curls across them both.
"Pfft. Make a sacrifice for your boyfriend, won't you? And hand over that tea towel," says Enj, pointing at a tea towel on the counter in front of them.
R reaches out, handing over the towel to Enjolras, who takes it and starts to brush some of the flour off of Grantaire, who is now jokingly grumbling.
"Yeah, sacrifice, sacrifice - might as well get me to pledge allegiance to the country of Enjolras now, die some noble death for the country-" He stops himself suddenly, awkward silence filling in the gaps where the rest of that sentence should have been. They don't say anything, Enjolras suddenly moving away with the scones, walking to the living room and placing the tray of warm scones on the table and taking a seat on the couch. R follows, sitting down carefully next to Enjolras, touching their shoulders gently.
"You alright?"
Enjolras hums for a second, before grabbing R's hand in his.
"Yeah. Just a bit morbid or something, I dunno."
A second passes before Grantaire grabs a scone awkwardly.
"Right. Dinner and a movie?" He tries to grin, which makes Enj burst out laughing, relieving the awkwardness between them.
"Sounds a bit less morbid."
"Holy shit! You told me we were watching a romance movie!"
Grantaire rubs his hands together, giving a terrified Enjolras a smirk.
"Grantaire! Midsommar does NOT count as a romantic movie!"
"You actual bastard, R. I'll get you back next time-"
Enjolras flings himself onto Grantaire's arm, burying his face in it.
"I am not looking," he says, muffled.
"Alright. Fair enough, we're almost at the end, shit gets worse-"
"Lovely plotline for a 'rom-com'. Absolutely heartwarming."
A scream comes from the screen as Enjolras falls forward, flopping onto R's lap.
"I mean, if you wanna stop-" R reaches for the remote.
"No- wait, no, it's alright-" Enjolras looks up into Grantaire's eyes, his blue ones twinkling.
"You look like you're up to something. Care to share?"
"Yeah," says Enjolras, smiling. "I'll be fine as long as you're here. That's what it is."
~
They fall asleep on the couch together, entwined, R clinging to Enjolras like a koala. Grantaire wakes up first, and Enjolras second, as the sun starts to rise in the sky.
"Crap," mutters R. "I had something to give you yesterday."
They're still lying together on the couch, as R fishes out something from his pocket. It's a bracelet of red string, woven together with a small red bead in the center.
"For you. I made it," says Grantaire, blushing furiously. "It matches the green one you made me last year."
Enjolras smiles gently, picking up the bracelet from R's hands, noticing the green woven bracelet on his boyfriend's wrist.
"It's lovely."
R chuckles sweetly, rubbing the back of his head.
"I'm glad you like it. So, uh, what do you wanna do today?"
"Hold still."
Grantaire gently brings the brush down on the canvas, readjusting his glasses. He glances back over the easel at Enjolras, and he can't help but to take in every little detail of Enjolras in this moment now, sun highlighting wisps of hair gone astray. The light seems to caress every fine detail on Enjolras' face, the way his eyelashes flutter gently when he blinks, eyes blue as the summer sky. Grantaire paints another stroke, awestruck. His sharp jaw, rosy cheeks, gently parted lips - Grantaire makes it his job to paint every single detail about the man he loves. There's a sort of playfulness and youth in Enjolras, and yet a maturity that Grantaire feels he can't capture on canvas, and he grimaces at that thought - never being able to fully capture Enjolras' beauty in paint and charcoal.
But yet here he is, painting Enjolras in a crown of laurels and a chiton, holding up a wine glass in one hand.
Something crosses his mind then, a flash of something, a memory, of times long gone, and he sees it suddenly - Enjolras, pierced by bullets, his Enjolras. Maybe it's the wine glass where a gun should be, a laurel crown in front of a halo of light - but Grantaire knows something's wrong. He places his paintbrush down, placing his hands on the edge of his wooden stool to catch his breath.
"Grantaire, darling? Are you alright?"
Enjolras starts to get up from his seat, worriedly reaching out to Grantaire, but he's stopped when Grantaire puts out a hand.
"No, no, Enj, don't - I'll be okay."
The blonde man isn't convinced as he tries to get up from his seat anyway.
"You don't look okay, Grantaire," he says firmly. "I'll go get your meds for you."
Enjolras stands up, placing the wine glass down and leaving the studio, leaving Grantaire alone with his thoughts for a minute. Why did that, of all things, cross his mind? Where did it come from? He takes a breath in again, before picking his paintbrush up firmly in his right hand just as Enjolras re-enters the room holding a yellow bottle of pills.
"Love, I'll be fine, I don't need them."
"Alright. Just keep them nearby anyway," says Enjolras, worry in his voice.
They finish the painting session late in the afternoon, as the stars start to come up in the window behind Enjolras, finally taking off the laurel crown. Grantaire, covered in paint, wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, brushing hair out of his face.
"Here we go-"
Grantaire spins around the canvas and easel, beaming at Enjolras, who gives a smile back
"It's lovely. God, you're so talented, you know that, R?"
R laughs and goes over to kiss Enjolras gently, their lips meeting in a quick peck.
"Hah. Comes with trying to do the entire artist thing, doesn't it?"
Music flows from the living room as Grantaire strums his guitar, Enjolras on the piano beside him. A simple duet, yet so important and beautiful. Enjolras closes his eyes, fingers gently touching each key he plays. Grantaire glances over at Enjolras, still playing piano, and smiles, plucking the strings on his guitar. He remembers it clearly - their last summer, playing this duet, even years ago in university when Grantaire was composing it. This song, written for the two of them and only them. Nobody else. It didn't sound right if anyone else played it, he had figured, and it sounded perfect no matter what when the two of them were together playing this song. It was their song and their song only. Enjolras plays the last few notes now as Grantaire strums the last chord, turning to smile at Enjolras.
Enjolras smiles back, and suddenly, in the world it's just them.
Grantaire's happy with that.
~
The next day, Enjolras decides he wants to go out, and R obliges.
"How long do we have till we get there?" Enj furiously scrolls through Google Maps, frowning slightly.
"Just relax. In a bit."
The subway smells slightly musty, packed with people itching to get to work. Enj is clasping on for dear life to one of the overhead grips while R is leaning against a pole. The slightly blue lights flicker overhead as they pull into a stop.
"This doesn't look like a morning market or shopping trip to me," says Enjolras, being dragged by the hand off the train by an overexcited R. "Please say you left your car there and we can drive it back? This subway absolutely disgusts me-"
"Just wait," chuckles Grantaire. "And yeah, I did. Don't sweat it, pretty boy."
They walk out of the station into a bustling street, bright lights and panels of advertisements gleaming around them. R ducks around the people as Enjolras clings to him, weaving around. They dodge shoppers and tourists, until Grantaire takes a sharp turn into a quiet alley, bringing Enj with him. In front of them stands an old building, crumbling apart ever so slightly, small and thin looking.
"Now this is my kind of thing. You know me well, don't you, 'Taire?"
They pace through the large bookstore, weaving through the shelves. It's quite empty at this time of the day, sunlight beaming in through large glass windows. Enjolras, looking around, wonders about how much bigger this place is on the inside. Breaking his thoughts, R slinks around him, giving a shit-eating grin.
"So what if-"
"Please, God, don't cause me another existential crisis, Grantaire."
"No, but what if we were in a novel, and we were the main characters, and this is all something we've been unaware of the entire time? What if it's a romance novel?"
"Now I'm invested."
Grantaire's eyes light up as he runs up to a shelf, reaching up for a book at the very top, before cursing.
"Can't reach it?"
Enjolras' arm is over Grantaire's head as he gives a smirk, grabbing the book and thwacking R lightly on the head with it.
"Rude," jokes Grantaire, grabbing the book gratefully. "But thanks."
They make their way out of the store after buying the book, walking down the bustling street with the sun high in the sky. Passing a flower store, R drags Enjolras near to the entrance, before his jaw almost hits the ground seeing a price tag.
"Oh my God. So you're meaning to tell me that the goal of these stores is to lure couples, especially broke ones, and get them to buy overpriced flowers? What the fuck?"
Grantaire's eyes are wide open as Enjolras pats him on the head gently, walking past the flower shop.
"Yep. Usually it's those kinds of couples who buy these. Don't bother getting them, they're sappy and pricey. I call it a scam," says Enjolras, giving a little smirk to Grantaire, before his phone starts to ring. "Give me a second, I gotta take a call-"
Enjolras paces off, leaving Grantaire standing in front of the flower stall. Multicoloured blooms decorate every inch of the small space, in small jars and bouquets which cost way too much. It's just as Enjolras said - overpriced, and for sappy couples. Looking in his wallet, he decides - it's only right to accompany the painting of Enj with flowers. Walking in, he greets the cashier with a smile, looking at a small bunch of pink and purple flowers in a little glass jar.
"They're twelve dollars right?"
"Yeah."
"I'll take those, then."
R picks the jar of flowers up, handing the cashier money and leaving, just as Enjolras gets back to the flower shop. A slow smile crosses his face as he holds the flowers out to Enj, holding in a laugh.
"You did not ."
"Yes, I did. I fell for the tourist scam. Now we're the sappy couple which always buys overpriced shit."
Enjolras tries to keep a straight face but ends up bursting into laughter, taking the flowers gratefully as R ends up joining him, wheezing.
"Holy crap dude," R says, grinning. "Overpriced as fuck. You better preserve these for our wedding or some shit."
"Why is it so fancy? Grantaire, do not tell me you've spent your retirement funds on this."
"Nope. Took Monty's and asked him for a loan."
"Montparnasse? From university?"
"Yep."
R, looking self-satisfied, takes a sip of red wine from a fancy looking glass as Enjolras stabs at a piece of steak with a knife.
"Is this even cooked?" He raises an eyebrow, prodding it further.
"Medium rare. Fancy French term for 'undercooked but costs extra for you to cook it yourself'."
Grantaire wiggles his eyebrows, stabbing a piece of broccoli with his fork.
"Alright. Swapsies. This looks like it's still out in a field eating grass and mooing. It is literally still walking around in a paddock."
Enjolras hands over his fork, with a piece of steak on it, to R, who gives him the fork with broccoli.
"Wait. Hold on," says R, waving the steak at Enjolras. "Your food. Expensive as fuck too - give it a try?"
He pushes the fork closer and closer to Enj's face, and Enj pushes the broccoli back at R.
"You don't even like vegetables, 'Taire, why'd you order the bowl of carrots and broccoli? It's so expensive too!"
They're laughing really loudly now, people around them turning their heads to watch them push food at each other, R taking a photo of it.
"Can't believe you loaned money from Monty for this," laughs Enj, shoving the fork further, before R finally takes a bite at it, before gagging. "And you don't even like this shit. Man, we should've just settled for takeout!"
Later, after dinner, they go out to R's favorite park, walking out to a tree.
"My favorite."
"You have a favorite tree? My God," laughs Enjolras.
"I'm being totally serious with you right now. Favorite tree. And I want us to carve something into it. Just to commemorate your time here, since, y'know, you'll be leaving me in a few days to go back to work. Boring," jokes R, taking a pocket knife out of his hoodie.
Enjolras stares, deadpanning at Grantaire.
"Excuse me?"
Grantaire, who is clearly having too much fun with this, tosses the blade over at Enjolras, smirking. He then retreats backwards, leaving a concerned-looking Enj over near the tree.
"Fun first proper date in a while if you ask me. Now go on - scratch the initials into the tree. Go pretty boy, I know you can do it," calls R in an attempt to further piss off a displeased-looking Enjolras who's now holding a blade. "Just a little souvenir of our date, that's all!"
"On public property! Vandalism!"
Enjolras waves his arms at Grantaire who shrugs back.
"It's the middle of the night," he coos, going up to Enjolras and taking back the pocket knife. "Nobody's here, remember?"
The blonde man frowns ever so slightly, but he just can't get pissed at R. They lean close to each other now, Grantaire reaching a hand up to grab Enj's shirt collar, Enjolras being pulled down towards Grantaire. R slips the knife into his pocket, before grabbing Enjolras' red sweater towards him and their lips meet as they stumble backwards, a mess of red and green, towards the tree, where they don't stop. Grantaire grabs the knife out his pocket now, still grabbing onto a flustered Enjolras with his other hand, blindly scratching something into the tree as Enj mutters something into the kiss, hand reaching out to grasp at R's hair. His lips taste of wine, wood, and paint - Enjolras could just melt into them at this point.
"You're so fucking pretty," gasps R, taking a breath, and Enjolras grins, picking him up and hauling him back to the car, casting one last look at the tree behind them where two intials are now engraved.
E and R .
~
Music plays quietly from the radio and they hum along, driving along the city roads at night. Enj sits in the passenger's seat, watching the scenery fly by as R drives the car down lanes and streets.
"Scenic route?"
"Yep."
R gives a chuckle.
"I'm going to miss you when you go back to the city, y'know? I just wish we could see each other more often."
"I'll miss you too, dumbass."
They drive in silence for a bit, before Enjolras speaks up, glancing at R.
"I wish I wasn't away so often."
"I wish you weren't away either," says R gloomily. "I just feel like you don't make time for me, y'know? That hurts. I'm gonna be honest - you barely text me sometimes, and we barely call. I just - miss you. A lot. Even when you're here, I miss you. We talked more in university, and now you just don't put effort into our relationship sometimes. This was the first time we've actually properly gone out for ages."
Enj feels himself stop smiling. His heart feels heavy, almost like someone's stabbed him.
"I know," he says, holding himself back. "I will try harder."
"But trying isn't enough!"
R suddenly snaps, tears welling up in his eyes as he continues driving.
"Well, what else can I do? What do you expect me to do, Grantaire? At least I work! I don't just sit around doing nothing all day!"
Enj sees R trying to hold in his hurt, but he can't stop.
"Well at least I wasn't the fucking prick who decided to move away and leave his boyfriend just so he could go become the perfect son to his parents because he thought they didn't fucking love him!"
Enjolras feels the breath leave his lungs, a sudden flash of headlights and noise. R turns to Enjolras, fear and pain in his eyes, for a split second, hands flying off the steering wheel, and suddenly, the world snaps to black.
~
It's been months since Grantaire passed away. Months in the hospital, months recovering, all without him.
I miss him.
Sometimes it hurts to look out the window of my room, at the streets we used to walk on. Sometimes I feel bad because if I'd just talked it out, maybe he wouldn't have lost his temper. Maybe he wouldn't have crashed. We would both be fine.
Maybe, if I hadn't been so absent, my Grantaire would be alive.
It's been months since he was here.
Using one hand, his right hand, the one still working, he unlocks the door to the apartment, preparing himself. The door opens, leading to the room, untouched since he'd last been there. The same as it was when R was here.
Enjolras can't stop the tears rolling down his cheeks now, his chest clenching as he grabs the polaroid they'd taken at their last dinner out of his pocket. Walking to the piano, grief washes over him, as he glances at the piano's dusty keys.
He slowly places the picture of himself and R down, looking at it now with a mixture of bittersweet sadness and love in his eyes, a grimace plastered on his face. Why couldn't it have been him instead? Guilt consumes Enjolras once again, and he carefully picks the picture back up, taking good care not to damage anything. They're both smiling at each other over dinner, and Grantaire's trying to feed Enjolras a piece of steak on a fork, and he's doing the same back with a piece of broccoli. In the photo, he's smiling fondly at Grantaire, and only now does Enjolras see it - the bracelet. It's the bracelet that he had made for R years and years ago.
Looking back at his wrist, Enj glances at the bracelet R made for him.
Why couldn't he have apologized? Why'd he have to be so horrible, so hurtful?
They could've just talked it out and R would be alive right now.
Enjolras' eyes start to well with tears, stumbling back with the photo in hand. He can feel it now - Grantaire's arms around him, a gust of cold wind, and a tinge of pain. Did Enjolras believe in ghosts? He most certainly did now, sitting down at the piano, the image of R in his mind smiling at him and grabbing his guitar. Enjolras looks down at the photo again, before placing it above the piano, looking at his hands. The crash had happened such a long time ago now, hadn't it?
Enjolras looks at the piano, at the ghost of Grantaire, and taking a deep breath, he tries to press the keys. Broken music pours through, devoid of guitar parts, barely able to be considered a duet now. He remembers it so clearly now - them dancing in the kitchen together, singing stupid songs together, waking up together - and he weeps as his fingers try to dance on the keys and fail, fragile and injured after the crash.
Has this happened before?
Have we somehow been separated in another universe, another time, by death?
Come back, Grantaire. Please.
The world feels so bleak and empty without you. I don't know what else to say.
I love you isn't right for now. I hurt you.
Maybe it's this - maybe it's those two words I hate saying but I owe you now.
I'm sorry.
I am so, so, sorry. Please, God, forgive me.
If we ever meet in another life, I hope to make it up to you. I promise. I swear.
If there is another life, Grantaire, I would happily meet you in it again.