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Enjolras was kinda still reeling from his first date with Grantaire. Could it have gone smoother? Probably. Were they still going out though? Yes. Grantaire had asked if Enjolras wanted to meet for lunch and then maybe go to a gallery or something afterwards. Enjolras barely had to think before saying yes.
The only issue was that on Saturday morning, he wasn't really feeling himself. His throat was scratchy, he felt like he couldn't breathe out of one of his nostrils, and he had goosebumps up and down his arms.
He got out of bed, willing his body to go back to normal. Actually, he wasn't sick. It was spring. That meant it was still cool out, which could be the reason for the chills. And pollen could explain away his congestion, right? Yeah, he was fine.
He looked at himself in the mirror once he was dressed. He looked half asleep still. He brushed his hair back, mind wandering to the fact that he should probably cut it soon. He liked it shorter most times, but he also tried to donate it when he could. Some of his more dramatic friends treated it like a national tragedy when he cut it. Grantaire was definitely one of them.
The good thing for him was he didn't look like he wasn't feeling great. At least not obviously. If you squinted, his cheeks were a little pink, but that was really it.
He checked the time. He had about half an hour before he was supposed to meet Grantaire at his apartment. He walked out into the living room, with a yawn that tore at his irritated throat.
“Morning,” Courfeyrac said cheerfully.
Enjolras cleared his throat. “Morning.”
“So… second date. Any plans?” He raised his eyebrows up and down. “Maybe a kiss this time?”
Enjolras rolled his his eyes in turn, crossing his arms over his chest. “We're just having lunch.” Oh. His voice had the quality of sandpaper.
Combeferre turned to look at him and Courfeyrac made a face. “You sound gross.”
“Thanks,” he returned dryly.
Combeferre leaned against the counter. “You feeling okay?”
Enjolras nodded. “I'm completely fine. Now,” he said, walking over to grab his keys. “If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go.”
Combeferre gave an exasperated sigh. “Just text us if you need anything. Deal?”
“Yep.”
With that, he walked out the door.
The air outside was crisp, but the sun felt warm on his skin. Even he had to admit he'd missed the sun during the winter. Before he knew it, he was at Grantaire's door. He knocked, feeling the familiar swirling feeling in his gut. He still hadn't gotten used to it.
Grantaire opened the door, smiling wide. “Ready?”
Enjolras nodded. “Should I be scared?”
Grantaire shut the door behind him. “Not unless you're afraid of sandwiches.” He held up a bag.
They started walking together down the sidewalk. It didn't take long for Enjolras to realize they were walking close enough to hold hands. He hesitated. All the romantic things were way out of his comfort zone. He had no idea when a situation called for a gesture or how to do it smoothly either. After going back and forth, he resolved that Grantaire could take the lead on this.
“Where are we going?” Enjolras asked.
“Well, I figured since the sun finally decided to show its face, we could go to the park.” There was suddenly a subtle look of doubt in his eyes. “If it's alright with you, of course.”
Enjolras nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great.”
Grantaire reached for his hand, sending a shock through Enjolras. It must have shown on his face because Grantaire apologized and dropped it.
Enjolras apologized too. He slowly and carefully took Grantaire's hand back into his, feeling his face heat up. “I'm not really used to all this. I've never really… been with anyone. Like this.”
Grantaire squeezed his hand. “I can teach you then.”
When they got to the park, Grantaire laid out a patterned quilt on the grass. He said Cosette made it for him a year or two ago. They were sitting on a small hill overlooking a long field. There were people walking dogs and kids running in what appeared to be a game of tag.
Enjolras sat down, realizing how much he wanted a drink to soothe his throat. Grantaire started unpacking his bag, handing Enjolras a wrapped up sandwich. “Hope you like it. It isn't much, and I sorta forgot to text you and ask what you wanted, so I just went off memory.”
Somehow Grantaire had managed to make one of his favorites. He took a bite and said, “This is amazing R. How'd you remember?”
Grantaire just shrugged, digging into his own food. Enjolras nearly downed the whole water because of the temporary relief it brought to his now aching throat. Every time he swallowed, it felt like something was scraping his esophagus on the way down.
“So… are you doing anything else this weekend?” Grantaire asked.
Enjolras shook his head. “For once, not really. I mean I'm probably gonna be writing an essay for my humanities class and then drafting notes for the next meeting. I wanted to go to an event outside Paris, but Ferre told me I needed to scale back because I ‘overwork’ myself too much or something.”
“He might have a point, you know.”
“Please. I've never been better.” He stopped for a moment, sniffling. “I have the best group I could possibly ask for. And I think we are on the cusp of something brilliant with the ABC. And now,” he said, looking up with a blush dusting across his face. “I have you.”
Enjolras swore he saw something like surprise flash in Grantaire's features. He could tell because of the way his eyebrows raised a bit and by the way his mouth went slack. He held Enjolras’ hand like he had before, and his soft grey eyes held a spark, reminiscent of the sun shining over their heads.
They watched the other park goers in silence for a few minutes, both of them having finished eating. Enjolras was extremely aware of the fact they were holding hands still. His heart was racing. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered how hard his heart would beat if they kissed.
He was cruelly snapped back to reality when he sneezed a few times. Allergies, he told himself. Definitely. He was really struggling to breathe through his nose normally now. He was only sniffling more, to the point where Grantaire asked if he was alright. Of course, he responded yes in turn.
“Are we still going to that gallery later?” Enjolras asked, cringing at the quality of his voice.
“If you want to.”
“Is your art there?”
Grantaire blushed a little, though Enjolras didn't know if it was from embarrassment or pride. “I have one piece in there, yes. But it isn't anything crazy.”
“Nonsense. Everything you make is wonderful.” Enjolras had no doubts when it came to Grantaire's artistic abilities. It was the one thing he could see Grantaire really applied himself to, and he was so very talented. He was always sketching something, and it always looked of such a high quality even when he wasn't trying.
Grantaire raised an eyebrow, though he was grinning. “You're only saying that because we're together now.”
Enjolras shook his head. “You don't give yourself enough credit.”
Grantaire shrugged. “Doesn't matter. Even if I'm as good as you say I am, there's no job market for art. They'll all be gone in the next ten years.”
Enjolras bristled at that. All this AI crap was getting on Enjolras’ nerves. “Eventually everyone will see what AI really is. A bunch of meaningless garbage shoved down our throats to keep us from looking at real problems and valuing real people. And when they finally get it into their heads that it's all fake, they'll realize how important real, human-made art is.” He knew he was ranting now, but he hardly cared. AI was supposed to take away the monotonous jobs so that humanity could flourish without that oppression. Instead it was beating them down and forcing them to do soulless work while it merely imitates the one thing that makes people human. It was sickening. “You could be the worst artist, writer, musician, or anything else and you'd still be leagues better than that machine. You want to know why? Because at least it's real. And at least it means something. Art is nothing without human effort and emotions.”
“You know what?" He added, an idea springing into his mind. "For our next big project, we're going to fundraise for the arts and call for an end to generative AI. And you can make some showcase works and not only show everyone how amazing you are, but how important art is to human culture.”
Enjolras swallowed finally, wincing at the pain it caused. He looked at Grantaire, who was staring at him like he had been levitating off the ground for the last few seconds.
“What?” Enjolras asked quietly.
Grantaire snapped out of something like a trance. “Nothing, just… I don't know how you always manage to do this.”
Enjolras felt his cheeks burn. “I didn't do anything.”
Grantaire leaned ever so slightly closer. “You don't even know, do you?” he said, giving a breathy laugh. “You know, I'm not sure how many people would actually like, let alone pay for the stuff I make. But, I don't think I want to go down without a fight this time. If we can make it happen, let's do it.”
Enjolras felt something in the air change between them. This was the moment. He could sense that Grantaire wanted to close the space between them. And Enjolras realized with a strange certainty that he wouldn't pull back if he did. Then Enjolras shivered, breaking the fragile moment.
It was pretty warm out now and the sun was high in the sky. He shouldn't be shivering.
“I know you said you're fine, but… are you?”
“Yeah, I'm good.”
Grantaire looked at him suspiciously. “Okay... Well, I said I would teach you how to be in a relationship, right? We have to learn to be comfortable around each other.” He shifted so that he was sitting partially behind him. “Lean back.”
Enjolras turned to look at him. “Why?”
“Just trust me. I want to try something.”
Enjolras stared at him blankly. He had to be up to something.
Grantaire gently touched Enjolras’ shoulder and guided him backward.
“What are you…?”
“Shhh. Just relax. “
Now Enjolras was lying with his head on Grantaire's leg. He tensed. They hadn't ever been so close before. He put his hand up to block the sun that was burning his eyes, making them water.
“Close your eyes. Looking at the sun isn't good for you, even if you are Apollo incarnate.”
“No, tell me what you're doing.”
Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I'm not doing anything.”
Enjolras squinted his eyes at him, not trusting him entirely, and also partly because he could barely see his face against the sun.
“If you don't like something, I'll stop okay? Just trust me on this.”
Enjolras searched his face. He was genuine. He sighed. “Okay.” He closed his eyes, the sun making him see mostly orange.
He felt a hand rest on his cheek for a moment. It felt cold on his skin and he shivered again. He heard Grantaire let out a breath.
After closing his eyes, he realized that he really didn't want to open them again. He felt the fact that he was sick crash on him with finality. He really couldn't breathe through his nose and even after all the water, his throat was still on fire.
Grantaire started playing with his curls, and Enjolras found himself momentarily distracted. His mind wasn't working overtime anymore, he was just living in this present moment for once. The sun beat down on his face and he felt the light seeping into his skin. Ironically, despite feeling less than good, he felt content. It was like this was how things were meant to be.
When he woke up, he hadn't even realized any time had passed. Someone was shaking him gently, and Enjolras became aware of a pounding in his head. He wasn't feeling the sun anymore. He opened his eyes carefully.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Hm?” Oh. Grantaire was looking down at him. Was he still lying on his leg? “What time is it?”
“Uh…” Grantaire shifted, probably grabbing his phone. Enjolras’ eyes slipped shut again. He heard Grantaire say something, but he couldn't comprehend it. Before he knew it, he was being nudged awake again.
“What?”
“Sorry. I know you're not feeling well, but-”
“Wait… How long was I...?” He pushed himself upright in a rush. He had been lying on Grantaire for too long and he was a little embarrassed. He did so a little too quickly though, because everything started spinning.
“Easy,” Grantaire said, reaching out to steady him. “You're running a fever.”
A gust of wind whipped across the field. Enjolras wrapped his arms around himself, trying not to shake. Grantaire was probably right. He felt too hot and cold in his skin and he couldn't decide whether it was in his best interests to rip the jacket off or zip it up tighter.
“I'm so sorry. You should've woken me up.”
“I didn't mind,” Grantaire ensured him, shaking out his probably numb leg.
Grantaire's glance was soft and gave Enjolras butterflies all over again. But it just made guilt gnaw at him more. Instead of spending time with him, he'd spent the majority of the date asleep.
“You should have woken me,” Enjolras insisted. “What good is it if we're on a date and I sleep the whole time? That's not fair to you.”
“Listen, I really didn't care. Actually, I thought it was really sweet. I would have gladly let you stay there all day if not for the fact that it's gonna rain soon and you shouldn't really be here since you're sick.”
Enjolras hated that insinuation. Even if he was sick, which was pretty apparent now, it didn't mean he couldn't still function. “I'm not sick,” he argued with a wave of his hand. “It's spring allergies.”
“Tell that to your fever,” Grantaire fired back. “Let's just get out of here before we get soaked, okay?”
Enjolras looked up at the sky. Thick, grey clouds circled overhead. That's why it felt much colder. He sighed. “Okay.”
They packed everything up as quickly as they could and were soon back on the sidewalk. The wind seemed to be ripping right through Enjolras’ jacket because his body had finally decided it was cold. In addition, a piercing pain went off behind his right eye with every step he took. He rubbed at his temples uselessly, just wishing it would disappear. Grantaire was holding his hand again, his one source of warmth. He was too proud to ask Grantaire to put his arm around him, so he tried to imagine the warmth of their hands spreading through his arm to the rest of his body.
If he was being completely honest, he wanted to go home. But, he also said he wanted to go see Grantaire's work. He didn't want to disappoint him. Especially not on their second date. They hadn't gotten to hang out as much as he wanted to because of his impromptu nap.
“We're going to the gallery now, right?” He asked.
Grantaire looked at him like he'd started speaking Swedish. “Um, no, I'm taking you to your apartment because as we previously established, you're sick.”
Enjolras stopped walking, planting his feet stubbornly. “But I wanted to go. I'm okay, I swear.” He cut himself off with a few sneezes that went straight to his head, making him wince. “I was looking forward to seeing your art,” he added, his voice catching a little on the way out. He had to be on the way to losing his voice.
Grantaire considered. Enjolras could tell he was weighing his options. Grantaire gave an almost disappointed sigh. “The exhibition will be there for a few more weeks. I promise I'll take you once you're feeling better. Deal?”
Enjolras stared at him. He wanted to insist they go. He wanted to see Grantaire's stuff and see him gush about it. He didn't want the date to end yet. But his body hurt and he was running on empty. He nodded begrudgingly.
They walked a little longer until they reached Enjolras’ apartment. Grantaire squeezed his hand. “Feel better. And if you need anything, let me know. I'll even listen to you ramble over text if that's what it takes.”
Enjolras gave him a half grin. “Thanks.” He turned towards the elevator, though he normally liked the stairs. He didn't know if his legs would take him up five flights right now. He turned one last time. “I had a good time today.”
“Me too.”
“Next time, you will be taking me to that gallery, though.”
“I'll be looking forward to it, Apollo.”