Work Text:
“I think we should break up.”
The keys he was holding in his hand suddenly felt cold, cutting into his skin in a way they hadn't before.
“Oh. Okay.” He tried to sound as calm as possible. To hold the tears back.
Grantaire himself was clearly distraught, and he didn't want to add to that. Whatever it was that upset R, it had obviously been his fault.
Fuck.
He didn't know for how long the two of them stood there, R just standing in the hallway, gloves, jacket, and hat still on. He had no intention of staying, Enjolras could tell, as he made no move to take his shoes off, or even move any further away from the front door, despite the fact that Enjolras had already invited him in. The fact that R didn't even want to stay and explain, not that he owed him an explanation, or give him a second chance, not that he owed him one, hurt way too much.
Maybe that's why R wanted the whole ordeal over quickly. Maybe he had something -- or, even worse, some one, waiting for him out there, something Enjolras had been too oblivious to notice.
“I, uhh, I think I need to be alone. For a bit.”
R nodded in understanding. He himself didn't look very pleased, but maybe he was just being nice about it. But it didn't matter how 'nice' he was, he still turned to leave. Before closing the door, he looked over his shoulder and muttered:
“I'm sorry, Enj.” and that was that. He closed the door behind him. Enjolras could hear his footsteps. Worst of all, he sounded so genuine, in a way Enjolras rarely got to witness.
And now that it was just him, alone in th- no, in his apartment, there didn't seem to be a reason to hold back anymore.
And he'd already started thinking of it not as his, but as theirs. R visited so much that the apartment looked like it was shared, anyway. The living room especially.
And because he stayed over so often, Enjolras had just assumed that he’d be okay with-- this, when he clearly wasn't. Maybe that had been Enjolras’ mistake. Maybe he'd been too forward or moved too fast, and maybe R just didn't want to.
The tears fell freely, and pretty soon, they turned into full-fledged sobs.
Eventually, he decided it was time to move away from the (empty) hallway, and to his bedroom. It was kind of late, as he'd asked R to come over after he finished work, so he figured he could just go to bed.
He figured he should at least take care of himself but frankly didn't have the energy to do so. Just when he thought he'd finally calmed down, he flipped into bed and wrapped himself in a blanket, and the crying started up again.
God, he was pathetic.
R thought that it would be better this way. Maybe it really was.
Eventually, he tired himself out.
***
When he woke up, the first thing he could feel was a budding headache and the fact that the sun was already pretty high in the sky.
He reached for his phone only to find that he hadn't put it to charge last night. The fact that his breath was horrible and his teeth felt fuzzy. His jeans cutting slightly into his thighs. Why had he even fallen asleep in his clothes?
And then it all came back to him.
He opened his phone, to respond to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, from whom he had several missed messages, and possibly to email his professor, explaining that he wouldn’t be able to attend class later. Today was a stay-at-home day, he decided. His phone was still open on his and R’s last conversation.
R <3
[You]
Yesterday, 6:32 PM
Can you come over when you finish work? We need to talk.
[R <3]
Yesterday, 7:13 PM
sure. what’s up?
[You]
Yesterday, 7:24 PM
It’s something I would rather say in person if that’s okay with you.
He should probably at least put his phone to charge, he reasoned. He only really had one class later today, and he wouldn’t miss too much if he just skipped. Texting his friends could also wait. Shit, his friends – they were R’s friends too. Would the group split and take sides? Would they try and pretend as though nothing happened? He didn’t know, he’d never been through a breakup before.
Fuck.
Maybe it would be better to just listen to music and wallow in bed for a while. Yeah. That sounded like a good plan.
But, as it turned out, he couldn’t even do that without thinking about his boyf- ex-boyfriend. So much of the music he listened to was music that R had introduced him to, or music that they listened to – used to listen to – together. Back when ‘together’ was a thing.
Maybe it was unhealthy, but he wanted to be reminded of that again. In fact, he had almost fallen asleep to one of the playlists that Grantaire had made for him when the music was interrupted by a chime from his phone.
R <3
[R <3]
Today, 10:12
hey, i have some of my stuff over @ urs. can i come over later to pick it up?
[You]
Today, 10:13
Yeah, sure. I’m free the entire day, stop by whenever you can.
He wanted to see Grantaire. And, if that made him selfish, then so be it. This is the one thing he could be selfish about.
***
About half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Part of him had been looking forward to it, because R and the other was dreading it – because R . He only realised that he should probably try and look at least a little bit presentable as he was opening the door. He was still in yesterday’s clothes, his hair was probably a mess, and he hadn’t bothered to wash his face or shower.
But Grantaire wasn’t really looking any better himself. Where Enjolras seemed to have slept through most of the morning and night, R looked as if he hadn’t slept at all. Enjolras was immediately filled with worry, but then he saw the empty backpack slumped over his right shoulder, and yeah, that’s what he was here for.
“Can I offer you something? Tea? Coffee? Water?” He could be a gracious host. He could. “I mean, we can be adults about this and still be civil, right?”
After a moment’s hesitation, and what could’ve possibly been disappointment, “Right. Coffee sounds good.”
Enjolras occupied himself with that in the kitchen while R was collecting some of his things from the living room. When that was done, the two sat in awkward silence, neither being quite sure what to say next. Grantaire sipped on his coffee, looking anywhere but Enjolras.
“I don’t want to overstep or anything, but… can I just ask why ?” The question had been weighing on his mind.
“What d’you mean, why?”
“Well, I just, fuck, I obviously fucked up somewhere. Can you just tell me where? What happened?”
Grantaire looked at him incredulously. “Enjolras. You did not fuck up.”
“Then what happened? Please, just, tell me. I know you don’t owe me an explanation, but it would be really appreciated.”
“We broke up. That happened.”
“No. No, you broke up with me. That still doesn’t tell me why.”
“Fine. I mean, I thought you already knew, but if you want to hear me say it so much, then fine. You were about to break up with me, so I just did it myself.”
“What? ”
“I guess I’m lucky it even lasted this long. I mean, it was only really a matter of time before you-”
“What, I- R. I was not about to break up with you. Why would you even think that?”
“I mean it’s only logical isn’t it? We finished school, you got accepted to uni on a scholarship, and you got your own place, you moved out. We’ve been together for over a year. I mean, you’re a law student at a good university, and I worked at a fucking supermarket! I was weighing you down, and it was just a matter of time before you realised that as well. And then you send me that text, “We need to talk,” and I’m not stupid, Enj. I know what that means. You were going to-”
“I was going to ask you to move in with me.” He interrupted, voice almost unnaturally quiet.
Grantaire stared at him, mouth hanging ajar. Anytime he seemed to be about to say something, he seemed to deflate before thinking otherwise.
“I was going to ask you to move in with me, ‘Taire.” He repeated. “I love you, and I tried being angry at you today, I really did, but you were mad at me, and I figured you thought I was being too forward. Like, you’d somehow figured out what I was going to ask, and just wasn’t ready. Or didn’t want to. Or if you’d just… fallen out of love with me.” His voice cracked up at the last part.
“You- what?” Grantaire said finally, much quieter than before, as if all the indignation had been put out.
“I wanted you to move in with me? But then yesterday, you, well… and I figured I’d done something wrong, or you were mad, but you didn’t look mad, so I was just really, really, confused.”
Grantaire had meanwhile resumed doing his best impersonation of a clownfish.
“R? Please, just, say something.”
“Fucking Hell. Fuck. God, I’ve really misread the situation, haven’t I? Shit, Eponine told me I was being stupid, she told me to talk to you, and now I’ve just gone and fucked it up and just… shit.”
“Wait. Let me get this straight.” Neither of them made the obvious joke. “You preemptively assumed I would break up with you. Like, it wasn’t a question, it was just a given. And the only reason you did it, is because you thought that I would.”
“Well, when you put it like that… Yeah. I mean, I guess.”
“So you don’t actually want to break up?”
“God no.” Relief flooded Enjolras. He beamed at Grantaire, who looked somehow equal parts confused, sad, and hopeful.
“Good. Wait here.” He ran to the bedroom, grabbed the set of keys sitting on the nightstand, and on his way back, tried to compose himself as much as possible when he did a double-take in front of the mirror. He combed through his hair roughly with his fingers and flattened out his shirt before realising that it was probably a lost cause.
Grantaire was sitting on the sofa, backpack next to him as if he wasn’t quite sure if he was supposed to unpack it.
“Taire,” he approached him, “I love you. And I see a life with you. Scratch that, I can’t see a life without you. You’ve made your way into every part of my existence, and I couldn’t be happier about that. And every time you stay over, and then we wake up next to each other, and make breakfast, and eat together, I just want more of that. You make me ridiculously happy. More than I ever thought I could be. And, provided you do too, I would very much like it to stay that way. Move in with me? Please?” He was aware of how naive and optimistic he sounded, but frankly, he didn’t care.
“I– really?”
“Yeah.”
“Even after I screwed everything up?”
“You didn’t screw anything up. I mean, I do think we should talk more about the self-esteem thing. And you might benefit from talking to an actual professional about this. But right now I’m kind of just hoping for an answer?”
“Self-esteem– I mean, yes, of course! I don’t have a self-esteem thing though.”
“I don’t mean to be a prick, but–”
“Ooh, I wanna see where that sentence goes.”
“–do I really need to recount the last twenty-four hours to you?”
Grantaire was silent for a moment or two as if slowly realising that maybe, yes, Enjolras was right. Though he smiled again, Enjolras could tell that it was a bit forced, not in a sense that he didn’t mean it, just that it was mostly there to hide something else.
“Touche,” he muttered. “ Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be–”
“No, I am. I should be. And you should be able to call me out on my bullshit. I don’t really know how to rationalise any of what was going through my head, but that’s not really an excuse. It’s just, I’m sort of terrified that something will go wrong, and then I, like, read into things trying to find out if it will, and then– it doesn’t matter what exactly it was, and it doesn’t matter if I didn’t mean it or didn’t do it on purpose, but it clearly hurt you. I clearly hurt you. And that’s what I’m sorry about. It shouldn’t be an excuse.”
“You’re right. It’s not. But, I’m glad you told me. And,” Enjolras added, his voice softer, standing up slightly on his toes to kiss Grantaire on the forehead, “I forgive you anyway.”
When stood back down to look at him, he was almost certain that R’s eyes had teared up a little. Maybe it was just the lighting, though, you could never tell.
“But-” He struggled for a bit, clearly trying to come up with something to contradict him on and coming up empty.
“Listen. We should have a proper chat about this sometime. And you should also probably consider talking about this to someone who isn’t your boyfriend because I’m definitely biased. But, let’s be honest, this is as productive as this conversation is going to get right now. So, I suggest I make us both a cuppa, and then we watch that series Jehan recommended-”
“Persona.”
“Right. We watch Persona, and then you’re going to understand it way better than I will, but it’ll be fun because I’m watching it with you.”
“I’d really like that, yeah.” Although he was still quieter than ordinary, there was some colour returning to his face.
As he started towards the kitchen, Enjolras turned back, and whether as a promise, a plea, or maybe even as reassurance, said, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” came the reply, and R’s smile returned, this time full, and genuine, and brilliant.