Chapter Text
The second happened a couple weeks short of two months later. All things considered, it went better than the first, but that made for little comfort.
Enjolras had gotten a promotion at the law firm he worked at. His time as an intern had allowed him easier access to an opening once it came about, letting him make his way right into the larger, private office.
(Grantaire had wanted to celebrate by christening it. It took a little convincing, and great willpower from Enjolras, to make him see how wildly unprofessional the idea was, and that that did, in fact, not make it hotter.)
He didn't know if the promotion was part of it. He didn't know if the busier hours and the struggle to balance life and work helped Grantaire pick up the bottle again, or if the two were unrelated. He’d been trying to keep track of time, but sometimes he got too caught up in his work, leaving dates missed and nights lost. If not for Marius coming to shake him from his focus, there would have been even more than there already was.
(He must remember to give Marius more credit in the future.)
He knew it bothered Grantaire, as much as he tried to hide it. There was always something in the tone of his voice or the tightness of his smile. Enjolras never wanted to get so buried in his work that he missed something he’d promised to Grantaire, but he had a way of always finding one more thing to do. He hated the way Grantaire always brushed it off, letting thoughts go unspoken and problems unsolved. Maybe it was just the way Enjolras had of placing guilt on himself, but he couldn't shake the feeling his absence had played a part in Grantaire relapsing again.
But all he knew for sure was that he’d gotten a call.
Cosette. She never called him, especially not while he was at work. The two had a way of never quite seeing eye to eye, especially since the way Enjolras had acted the last time Grantaire drank. No, she wouldn’t call him unless something was wrong.
“Cosette? What happened?” he answered, trying to keep the edge of growing anxiety from his voice.
“Nice to hear from you, too, Enjolras,” she replied, giving nothing away with her tone, much to Enjolras’ dismay.
“Cosette,” he prompted, the word coming out a little too close to a whine for his liking.
“I'm not gonna tell you anything until you calm down, Enjolras,” she sighed, which didn't help the anxiety already clawing its way through his veins.
But he would have to calm down, so he closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath. It didn’t do much to help, but it managed to soften the edge in his voice, letting him sound more composed than he was.
(It was times like this he was grateful for the private office.)
“What happened?”
She started with a huff. “I didn't even want to tell you, and I swear, if you fuck up again, I will kick your ass,” her tone grew more threatening as she spoke, but then she finished with a sigh. “Grantaire relapsed again.”
Enjolras’ heart dropped. He thought Grantaire had been doing better. He’d thought that the last time, too, though, so he supposed that didn’t mean much of anything. He’d practically begged Grantaire to tell him if he got that bad again, but he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. Enjolras should have known he wouldn’t. He couldn’t say he was surprised, though. Grantaire never liked to make it known when he was feeling bad. Enjolras only wished he would have made an exception this time.
He took another deep breath.
“Shit,” he whispered, and then, in a panicked, yet normal volume, “I’m on my way.”
“Don't—“ Cosette began in the same threatening tone, but Enjolras hung up before he could finish. Whatever threat Cosette wanted to jab at him didn't matter.
He put his phone away and looked at the clock. It wasn't quite time for him to go home, but it was late enough that he wouldn't be met with too much resistance. It wouldn't matter, anyway. He’d fight an army if it meant getting home to Grantaire.
He got home as quickly as he could, navigating public transportation and city blocks, the latter more than the former. He found he had little patience to wait for a ride, instead choosing to make his own way, even if public transportation would get him there faster in the end.
He swung open the door to the apartment complex, electing to climb the stairs to the right floor, again not being able to stand still long enough to wait for the elevator, regardless of the knowledge that it would take longer. Once on the right floor, he rushed down the hall to their apartment, focusing only on the door as he approached it. He wouldn't have noticed anyone in his way until he ran into them, which made him grateful Cosette didn’t decide to wait in the hallway to yell at him.
Reaching the door, he unlocked it, stepping in and turning immediately towards the couch where Grantaire sat, but he was cut off by Cosette stepping in front of him. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, and she glared up at Enjolras with enough strength to reduce a man to nothing. He remained unfazed, though. He had more important things to do than to succumb to Cosette’s glare.
“Can we do this later?” he asked, letting out a short, tense sigh.
“No, we can't. Listen, Enjolras,--“
“I know, but later,” he cut her off, earning an even harsher glare, but he didn't care. He stepped around her, going quickly to sit on the couch, wrapping his arms tightly around Grantaire.
“Hey!” Cosette called after him angrily, but then, after a moment, she repeated herself in a softer tone. “Hey,” she said, stepping closer to them, “do you want me to stay, or should I go?”
“Stay,” Enjolras said, turning his head to face her, “for him.”
Cosette nodded, sighing softly as she moved to sit on the other side of the couch.
Grantaire was sitting, motionless, in the center of the sofa, tired eyes staring at the ceiling. He looked awful, and Enjolras was sure he felt the same. He held him close, but Grantaire didn't respond. After a moment, too impatient to wait and wanting to try something else, Enjolras pulled away, putting a hand on each side of Grantaire’s face and kissing him gently, but that didn't get a reaction, either.
“’Taire?” he asked softly, moving a hand to gently run though the other’s hair.
“You’re early,” Grantaire said after a minute more of silence, voice quiet and tired.
“Yeah,” Enjolras replied softly, eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“Why?” asked Grantaire, turning his head to look at the other.
“Why?” repeated Enjolras, confused.
“Why’d you come home?” explained the other, as though his meaning were obvious.
“To be with you, Grantaire,” Enjolras said, concern turning to confusion.
“To yell?”
Enjolras let out a soft sigh, dropping his gaze and his hands, retracting them to his lap. Of course he’d expect that, just as Cosette did. It stung, but he knew they had more than enough reason to expect him to lash out. Hell, he’d be surprised if he managed to get through this without raising his voice. He did last time, why wouldn't he this time? He knew this was his fault, and he knew it wouldn't be easy to redeem himself. Even if he managed to control his temper this time, there would always be doubt in the future, whatever the problem may be.
“No,” he exhaled, “no, not this time.”
“Why not?” asked Grantaire, confusion clear on his face. It made Enjolras’ heart ache.
“I don't want to hurt you anymore,” he answered softly, slowly raising a hand to run it through the other’s hair again, “I won't hurt you anymore.”
Grantaire looked at him for a moment, silent, eyes filled with a pain and sadness that Enjolras would take away in an instant if he could. Then he moved, slowly, to wrap his arms around Enjolras, pressing his face into the other’s neck. Enjolras let out a soft breath, holding Grantaire close and pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.
“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing Grantaire’s back gently, “it's okay.”
His heart filled with sadness as Grantaire began to cry, holding him tighter. Enjolras ran a hand through the other’s hair, hoping to calm him. He didn't know how much it would do, but it was worth a try.
Anything was worth a try.