“Hello, is this Mr. Enjolras?” a voice said, much too loud in Enjolras’ ear for 2am.
“Um, yes?” he managed to choke out, his voice rough from sleep. He rolled over onto his back and stared up at his dark ceiling, wondering what the hell someone was calling him this late for.
“Mr. Enjolras, this is Sacred Heart Hospital. We have a Mr. de Courfeyrac in the ER here and he has you listed as one of his emergency contacts.” Enjolras shot up out of bed, sleep gone in an instant.
“Oh my god, is he okay? What happened?” Enjolras asked frantically.
“Yes sir, please calm down. Unfortunately, Mr. de Courfeyrac-”
“Just Courfeyrac. He hates the de.” Enjolras mumbled as he tried to pull pants and socks on at the same time.
“Okay… Mr. Courfeyrac is pretty seriously injured. He got in a car accident this morning and there was a lot of internal damage. He broke a couple of ribs and unfortunately it punctured a lung. He’s in surgery now. You’ll have to wait to see him, but we’ll let you know when he gets out.”
“Oh. Okay. Thank you.” Enjolras whispered. He was now sitting back on his bed, feeling like someone had just effectively disabled his legs. He hung up the phone after a few more words with the man and then took a moment to take a few deep breaths to get himself together.
“Oh fuck.” He muttered to himself as he forced himself up, once he had gotten a grip enough to say that he wasn’t one wrong look away from sobbing. “Fuck, why Courfeyrac?” Courf was one of the best things in Enjolras’ life, his best friend since the ninth grade. The thought of him hurt incurred a pain and a fear that Enjolras didn’t know his heart was capable of withstanding. He grabbed his keys and wallet off the counter, deciding to find a cab instead of taking his bike become his head was still spinning a little and dialing Combeferre’s number. He would’ve just sent out a mass text to everyone, but his fingers were shaking a little too bad for that. In all honesty he should have been calling Marius, since, as upset as Combeferre was going to be about it, there was no way for the man to be able to do anything, since he was in Massachusetts visiting his little sister for her birthday. But Enjolras had little patience for Marius in normal life, there was no fucking way he could put up with him right now. No, he needed Combeferre and his calming demeanor.
“What the fuck?!” Combeferre screamed over the line. Enjolras winced as he climbed into the cab and told the lady where he was going (he may have also threatened legal retribution if the trip took over ten minutes). “He’s in the hospital?!” Combeferre shouted again, sounding more heartbroken and scared than Enjolras had ever heard him. It was doing nothing to calm his nerves. Enjolras tried to regale the situation without crying, but it was hard.
“Oh shit.” Combeferre muttered when he was done and Enjolras had his head slumped back against the seat as he tried not to yell at the cab driver to fucking go faster. Didn’t she know it was Courfeyrac who was hurt? Did that mean nothing to her?! Courfeyrac!
“I’ll send out a text.” Combeferre said dejectedly. “And I know Joly is working tonight, so find him when you get there, but Feuilly probably won’t be able to take off his shift. Hopefully Musichetta and Bahorel will look at their phones for once.”
“Thank you.” Enjolras said, not trusting himself to say more. “God, Ferre…”
“He’s going to be alright.” Combeferre insisted, and Enjolras thanked the Lord that he managed to sound like himself again, the Combeferre that Enjolras selfishly needed right now. He knew that he was usually the rock of the group, but that was a lot to handle, especially when it was Courf hurt. That did all kinds of fucked up things to Enjolras’ head. “He’s going to be fine. He’s strong, we both know that. And a punctured lung is… bad, but it’s not fatal.” He said the word as if it physically hurt him to do so.
“Oh God. Yeah. Okay, I have to go.” Enjolras said reluctantly. “I’m here, but I’ll call or text as soon as I get any news, okay?”
“Thanks, Enj. Love you.”
“I love you too.” Enjolras worried his lip as he walked as quickly as he followed the signs towards Courfeyrac, after shoving a multitude of bills at the cab driver that was definitely way more money than was due, but whatever. The woman managed to get him there in like five minutes. In Enjolras’ mind she deserved a fucking Nobel Prize. He rushed up to the desk, knowing he must look crazy as he shouted out Courfeyrac’s name, begging to be told his best friend was alright. The lady just smiled at him knowingly (which he knew was meant to be a comfort, but fuck her she didn’t know him) and told him to have a seat and wait for his friend.
“Is Joly here?” Enjolras almost forgot to ask, but when he did the nurse raised an eyebrow at him and slid her seat to the door behind her before sticking her head past it and calling for Joly.
“Enjolras!” Joly said happily, walking out into the waiting room all decked-out in lavender scrubs. He looked too fresh-faced to have been working long.
“Did you just get here?”
“Yeah, I clocked in a few minutes ago. Haven’t even seen my first patient yet… what’s wrong? Why are your pupils dilated? Wait, why are you here? And you’re shaking, what-”
“Courfeyrac was in a car accident and he’s in surgery and I don’t know what to do. I’ve never felt this panicked before, oh God, Joly-” Enjolras’ voice cracked and his friend pulled him in for a hug, murmuring comforting words in his ear that Enjolras soaked up as he tried to stop sobbing. He never let himself get out of control like this, especially not in public, but this was Courfeyrac. Has he mentioned that yet? Courfeyrac.
“Hey, calm down, love.” Joly murmured, pulling back from the hug but still keeping his hands on Enjolras’ shoulders, “Everything is going to be okay. I’m just gonna run back there and check on his chart and then I’ll tell you how he’s doing, what his injuries are, okay?” Enjolras nodded his head numbly and blinked a few times. He wasn’t expecting Joly to be so… calm. The man was usually painfully prone to bouts of paranoia and hypochondria, but now he was the picture of calm and poise, smiling at Enjolras and encouraging him to take a seat. There weren’t many other people in the waiting room, so Enjolras just chose a random seat and immediately ducked his face into his hands, trying to get the image of Courfeyrac, bloodied and unconscious, slumped over a steering wheel, out of his head.
Joly came back a moment later, his black hair looking a little fluffier than it had before, as if he had run his fingers through it. Enjolras didn’t think that was a good sign.
“He’s going to be fine, Enj.” Joly explained, pushing Enjolras back down into the seat he had shot out of and taking the one next to him for himself. “His injuries were pretty bad and he was unconscious when they found him, but I talked to a friend of mine and they said the surgery is going pretty well. He’s responding positively and they’re sure he’s going to pull through, okay?” Enjolras let out a huge sigh and nodded, feeling like a weight had been lifted, but the nauseous feeling was definitely still there.
“What about… everything else? I mean, how bad is he hurt otherwise?”
“Well, he hit his head, obviously when the person ran into him, so there is the possibility of brain damage.” Enjolras winced loudly as Joly went on. “He also broke his foot pretty badly, so he’ll have to be in a cast and have some pins for a little while. Then there’s the cuts and bruises that are inevitable in a car accident, but other than that, he’ll be fine.” Enjolras scoffed and leaned back in his seat.
“Other than that. He hurt fucking everything, Joly. Shit.”
“The important thing is he’s alive, Enj.” Joly emphasized and Enjolras just nodded, feeling suddenly exhausted. “You won’t be able to see him for a while, though. You should probably go home and get some rest.”
“No.” Enjolras argued. “I’m not leaving until I’ve seen him. I don’t care how long I have to wait.” Joly stared him down for a moment, but Ferre was steadfast. “He’d do the same for me, for any one of us, you know that.”
“Fine. I’ll come out here and check-up on you when I can. Try to get some sleep at least. You look like the dead.” Joly scolded, sounding much more like himself, and Enjolras managed a smile. The nurse leaned forward and kissed Enjolras on the forehead once. “You’re a good friend, Enj.” He whispered fondly before leaving and going back to work. Enjolras immediately pulled out his phone to text Combeferre what Joly said and then slumped into his seat. He squeezed his eyes shut and stubbornly tried to rest, even though he knew his mind was racing too much for him to have any chance of sleeping at all.
“I’m sorry about your friend.” A voice said an indeterminate amount of time later. Enjolras, overwhelmed by the feeling of numbness and exhaustion that was slowly permeating his body just kept his eyes closed and grunted noncommittally. “Is he your … boyfriend?” Enjolras snapped his eyes open and was one hundred percent ready to give this person a well-worded rant about privacy and knowing when to talk to people and when to not, but that didn’t go over as well as he hoped it would.
“Iiiiiiaaaahhuuuummmm.” Was more along the lines of what came out of Enjolras’ mouth when he opened it and directed his gaze to the man sitting in front of him. The man raised an eyebrow at him and smirked.
“Is something wrong?” he asked with a laugh. Luckily, Enjolras was spared having to explain when his phone rang, Feuilly’s name flashing across the screen.
“Ihavetotakethis.” Enjolras muttered, jumping up out of his seat and moving out the door and into the hallway. “Hello?” he said, taking a relieved breath as he slumped against the wall, successfully away from that embarrassing scene.
“Enjolras! It’s Feuilly! Is Courfeyrac okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. He’s… fine, Feuilly.” Enjolras assured, continuing to explain the situation to his friend, all the while his heart was still beating really fast as he remembered those goddamn blue eyes staring back at him with a glimmer of amusement.
“Enjolras, is something else wrong?” Feuilly asked after Enj was done explaining the whole situation, “You sound a little… off. Are you sure everything is okay with Courferyac?” Enjolras groaned and nodded, even though Feuilly couldn’t see him.
“Yes, everything is fine with Courf. The major injuries have been fixed or are in the process of being fixed and the minor ones are only minor. Or so I’m told.”
“Okay… than what is it?”
“Um… remember that night you, me, and Courfeyrac got really drunk?” He felt stupid talking about it now, with Courf in the goddamn hospital, but he had to tell someone.
“You mean that night you got really drunk and Courfeyrac and I were only able to actually get one beer?” Feuilly interjected with a laugh. Enjolras groaned.
“Yeah, whatever. And then you asked me who my celebrity crush was and I said-”
“The porn star, yeah. Where are you going with this?”
“He’s in the waiting room.” Enjolras deadpanned. Feuilly was quiet for a long moment before bursting out laughing. Enjolras groaned again.
“The porn star R, who you said is the only guy who has ever been able to bring you to orgasm is currently sitting in the waiting room of the hospital that Courfeyrac is currently admitted to?” Feuilly managed to ask in between laughs.
“Yes.” Enjolras grumbled, making Feuilly laugh louder.
“Oh that’s fucking rich… and as fascinating as it is, I gotta go. Text me when Courfeyrac wakes up.”
“Feuilly, wait! What do I do?!” Enjolras groaned when he heard the dial tone and took a minute to curse his horrible friends. And then he took a minute to curse his horrible luck. Because it probably hadn’t even been… two days since he had last watched that man in a porn video. Not even twenty-four hours since he had sat in his dark bedroom and gotten himself off by watching him finger himself and listening to the stupid beautiful sexy asshole moan.
“This is ridiculous.” He muttered to himself. “You are an adult. You can pretend you’ve never seen this guy naked before; no big deal. How hard can it be?” He could practically hear Courfeyrac’s voice in his head saying pretty hard *winking emoticon*.
He scowled at the voice as he pushed the doors to the waiting room open again. The man immediately looked up at him with those wide eyes (the same wide eyes that he had seen vivid shots of, looking up at the camera as his lips were stretched around someone’s cock… fuck.) He could feel the heat in his cheeks as he sat back down in his seat, across from R.
“Hello again.” R greeted with a painfully sexy smile that Enjolras actually managed to reciprocate without ducking his head. This was ridiculous. He was the most composed person he had ever met; he spoke in front of juries, lectured to a classroom of undergrads, made rousing speeches to crowds of people, but one porn star rendered him practically useless.
“Hi. Sorry about that… another friend.” Enjolras explained. R just sat forwards, resting his forearms on his knees and smiling. “Just a friend, too. Just like Courfeyrac.” Enjolras didn’t know why he was adding that… okay yes he did. Feuilly would never let him forget it if he didn’t at least try a teensy bit to get this guy to like him. He’s spent literally hours of his life dreaming about this asshole, and not just in sex ways.
Well, there have definitely been a lot of sex fantasies centered around his perfect ass and wicked smile, but he’s also pictured just what it would be like to talk to him, hold his hand, and ask him how his day is going and watch stupid movies and make pancakes together and it was so embarrassing but he could not just let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity go by.
“You’ve got a lot of friends.”
“I do.” Enjolras replied, a little too quickly. “That I do.” He said a little quieter. The awkward moment stretched on a little longer and Enjolras desperately tried to remember how it was that he maintained conversation with all the other people in his life that he charmed… he came up with nothing.
“I’m Grantaire, by the way.” Duh, his name. Why didn’t he think of that?
“Oh, I get it.” He murmured. It’s a pun.
“I’m Enjolras!” He covered quickly, “Nice to meet you, Grantaire.” R nodded and smiled widely, then looked Enjolras up and down and smiled even wider.
“What?” Enjolras asked. He looked down and then realized, “Oh my God.” He said, noticing that he was still very much in his pajamas… Courf had bought them for him years ago, claiming the sleeping kittens that littered it reminded him of Enjolras. “That’s embarrassing. At least I’m not wearing the matching top.” He mumbled. Grantaire was still smiling at him, being very distracting. “I sort of had to rush out of the house and… yeah. This isn’t just usually what I wear out and about… So what are you here for?” Enjolras asked, desperate to change the subject. He was trying really hard to sound normal, but all of a sudden he just couldn’t remember what his voice normally sounded like when he spoke. Was what he was doing then too high? Or too low? Or did he normally talk… faster?
“My friend Bossuet. He broke his leg pretty bad. I think they had to do an x-ray and now they’re like boarding it back together because knowing his luck a cast won’t be enough. Or their cast machine is broken or something. That would also be just his luck.” Grantaire said, rolling his eyes.
“Don’t be such a pessimist.”
“Pfft. I am not a pessimist. It’s just Bossuet. You should hear how he broke his leg in the first place. We were literally just walking down the street and, I shit you not, he slipped on a banana peel.” Enjolras barked out a laugh.
“Seriously. It all spiraled from there. He ran into a biker passing by and flew into a parked car and it was all a huge clusterfuck.” Grantaire said seriously, but his smile was bright and wide. Enjolras tried not to get distracted again by how perfect his fucking lips were. But that’s easier said than done.
“Well, sorry about that.” Enjolras sympathized. Grantaire just shrugged and smiled.
“Thanks, but he’s really alright. I’m used to it. And he is most definitely used to it. And, I got to meet an extremely beautiful guy because of it.” Grantaire teased with a wink. Enjolras knew his face was getting red again, so it was no use to try and scowl or roll his eyes, but he did anyway.
“What a line.” He muttered, looking anywhere but at Grantaire’s disarming gaze.
“You know, you are gorgeous, kitten pajamas and all.” Grantaire insisted in an odd tone of voice. Enjolras looked up at him slowly.
“And I have a hard time imagining that a beautiful person, such as yourself,” he continued, ignoring Enjolras completely, “who easily excels above any of the other beautiful people I have ever met, seriously, you look like you could be a Greek god, if they weren’t such a horrible company. But anyway, I have a hard time believing that you would be flustered by a random guy giving you compliments in a waiting room while your friend is in physical harm.” Enjolras gaped at R as he stared up at him cockily.
“Well… he isn’t currently in harm and there’s really nothing I can do now, thanks for reminding me… and… I am not flustered!”
“You’re blushing!” Grantaire added with much more amusement than was kind.
“Fuck you.” Enjolras muttered, sinking back into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. Who cares if this guy is a porn star, he was making fun of him that was not something that adult Enjolras was used to.
“Oh come on, you must get a multitude of people telling you how stunning you are!” Grantaire argued with a laugh as Enjolras clenched his jaw and attempted to come up with a response. What he had said wasn’t exactly true. Enjolras did know people tended to think he was attractive. In the scheme of things, he knew he had won a sort of genetic lottery, with his perfect skin that Musichetta had cursed him for all throughout high school, his fast metabolism that Bahorel was jealous of all throughout college when he would wake up early to go to the gym and Enjolras would be eating Lucky Charms, and then there was the cheekbones he had gotten from his mother and the light blue eyes and naturally curly hair he had gotten from his father. He wasn’t ugly by any means, but he wasn’t hit on every day. That’s ridiculous. He didn’t even leave the apartment every day.
“That’s not true. And beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It’s subjective, so while I am flattered you think I am… attractive, that may not be true for the rest of the population.” Enjolras responded, trying to be quiet as he became aware of the other people in the waiting room. Grantaire noticed too and moved to sit in the seat right next to Enjolras.
“I don’t believe you. Come on, Apollo. What makes little ole me different?” Grantaire asked and Enjolras found himself wanting to punch that cocky grin off of his face. He had always thought it had been so sexy in his videos and now it wasn’t the least bit sexy. No, if anything it was fucking annoying. No, not sexy at all. Not. At. All.
“Don’t call me that. And what makes you think I don’t act like this around everybody that does it and I am just a very nervous human being?”
“Are you?” When Enjolras didn’t respond and just kept glaring at Grantaire, the man’s smile changed a little, became a little smaller, but no less cocky. “Might it be Apollo here-”
“Oh my God, really?” Enjolras snapped. R raised his hands in surrender.
“Might it be that Enjolras has seen me before?” Grantaire teased, making Enjolras squirm in his seat a little as he stared at the wall in front of him, resolutely ignoring Grantaire as he leaned in a little closer without Enjolras being fully aware so that when he whispered, “Perhaps in a less than decent situation?” he jumped a little at the hot breath in his ear.
“Yes, okay! Yes!” Enjolras hissed. “I watch your porn, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear, R?” Grantaire sat back in his seat and grinned widely at Enjolras’ glare.
“Grantaire!” a nurse yelled out, cutting off whatever retort he was going to enrich Enjolras with. “You can come see your friend now.” She said kindly, opening the door a little wider and gesturing for him to follow. Grantaire got up reluctantly and smiled down at Enjolras.
“Well, this has been fun.” He offered with a wink. “I guess… you’ll see me later? Tonight probably?” Enjolras just glared at him, masking mortification with anger. Grantaire shook his head and laughed under his breath before disappearing behind the door. Enjolras immediately ducked his head in his hands and groaned loudly.
“Hey kiddo,” Grantaire said as he moved to pull a chair up next to Bossuet’s hospital bed thing, “How you hanging in there?” Bossuet smiled widely at him, his eyes drooping a little.
“I’m hanging in pretty good,” he slurred before bringing one hand up to rest on top of Grantaire’s curls, “It’s really good to see you, man.”
“We gave him some mild pain killers, so he might be a little woozy.” A new nurse, who R didn’t see walk in, said with a laugh. Bossuet gasped and pointed to the man.
“Granatire! This is my nurse, Joly! He put the cast on my leg.” Bossuet leaned in a little closer and tried to whisper, “Isn’t he cute?” it didn’t really come out as a whisper and Joly, who was standing at the end of the bed, definitely heard him. He also definitely heard it when Bossuet looked up at the nurse, smiled and said to R, “Do you think he likes me?” Bossuet was still staring at Joly who was looking down at the chart in front of him and laughing, so Grantaire looked over at him as well and mouthed, do you? Joly bit his lip and nodded with a bashful shrug of his shoulder.
“I think your chances are decent.” Grantaire assured, patting his friend’s shoulder reassuringly.
“Are you looking at him, R? He’s so cute and he’s been helping me all day, standing by my bedside and talking to me and he can hear everything I’m saying can’t he?”
“Yes I can.” Joly answered happily and surprisingly, Bossuet just smiled wider.
“Sorry. I always forget I don’t know how to whisper on meds.”
Joly shook his head fondly and then said, “You’re free to go, Bossuet, since Grantaire is here to take you home. Just remember to stay off of that leg and to schedule an appointment with your regular doctor. They will refer you to an orthopedic surgeon if need be. Any other questions?” Bossuet shook his head. “Not surprising, since supposedly this isn’t your first time. Now, let me just go try to grab a wheelchair and when I find one you can go pull the car around, Grantaire?”
“We’re actually waiting for a taxi, but I’ll call one, it’ll be fine.” R nodded and smiled at the nurse as Bossuet waved and blew a kiss when the man walked out.
“Shit, that guy is the cutest thing. He said he has a girlfriend but that he thinks she’d like me. That’s a good sign, I know it. I already wanna marry them.” Bossuet said with a big dreamy sigh before turning to Grantaire, “So how was your wait?” R leaned back in his seat and took a deep breath, thinking about that giant dork in the lobby.
“Um, alright I guess. I harassed a hot fan.” Bossuet looked at him like he was crazy.
“Fan? Of your art? Why would you do that?”
“No, no,” Grantaire corrected, “Not of my art. Of my porn.” R admitted proudly and Bossuet just rolled his eyes.
“I thought you stopped doing porn.”
“I did. That business is fucked. But, that isn’t the point. He must’ve seen some of my old videos.”
“So you harassed him?” Grantaire shrugged, trying to play it off. He actually felt really bad about it, but he just couldn’t help himself. Enjolras had looked so goddamn cute when he blushed and it was a much better look on him than the heartbreak that had painted his flawless features when he had first stormed in to the ER waiting room. Plus R had never been good about thinking before he spoke. That was just a rule of thumb. “Was he cute?” Bossuet asked, shocking and impressing Grantaire with how many times his 27 year old male friend had worked in the word ‘cute’ into their conversation.
“I would go more for tragically beautiful. Although those kitten pajamas were fucking adorable.” Grantaire sighed pathetically and Bossuet stared at
“But you didn’t get his number because you were an asshole and you were afraid he wouldn’t give it to you. Because you probably didn’t deserve it. Because you were an asshole.” Grantaire smiled bitterly and gave a salute. “You’re an idiot.” Bossuet mumbled just as Joly walked back into the room, pushing a wheelchair in front of him.
“Ah! The fair Joly!” Bossuet announced, “Good sir, may I please have you and your girlfriend’s number?” Joly looked a little shocked by the question, but he was also smiling, so, good sign, “I know that was a little abrupt my dumb friend here just told me a story of how he let a beautiful boy get away without making a move, and I refuse to suffer that same fate. So please, can I get your number, pretty please?” he switched between like ten different accents throughout the speech, but Joly seemed charmed nonetheless.
Those dorks would be perfect for each other.
They wheeled Bossuet out, and Grantaire was saddened to find that there was no Enjolras sitting in the waiting room, but yeah. Enjolras being there would involve them living in a world where good things happen to Grantaire, which wasn’t really where they lived.
When the taxi pulled around, he saw Joly staring fondly at Bossuet as the fool traced his finger over the numbers scribbled in the inside of his arm. It made Grantaire a little braver. He grabbed a pen out his glove compartment and ran around to Joly.
“Hey, you’re friends with Enjolras, right?” Joly nodded, a little nervously, “Give him this?” he grabbed Joly’s arm and wrote his number as neatly as he could, “And tell him I am an unmitigated asshole who doesn’t know how to deal with attractive people, or people in general, and I shouldn’t have done what I did. Also, tell him if he has anything he wants me to re-enact I am happy to, as repayment.” Bossuet choked out a laugh and Joly just stared at him like he had grown another head. “Can you remember all of that?” Joly nodded.
“I think I got it. You’re sorry; you’re bad with hot people; you’re happy to… re-enact anything?” Grantaire nodded and kissed him once on the forehead before loading Bossuet into the taxi as fast as he could. Once they had driven away and Bossuet had done his fair share of waving dramatically and blowing kisses to Joly, he turned to him with a blank expression.
“You know that, while I am impressed you did anything at all, that was a coward’s move.” Grantaire stared pointedly out the window. “Because now you don’t have to face rejection, if the slight chance that he will reject you comes true.”
“Slight chance? I was a complete prick to the guy. He probably hates me.” Grantaire argued, biting his lip. Bossuet sighed, like he had to deal with all the troubles of the world just through R alone.
“You know, if you were anyone else who had made fun of someone for enjoying their porn, I would say, yeah. They probably think you’re a dick who isn’t worth their time. But I know you and people tend to like you, even love you, despite your grumpiness. Also, I’ve seen some of your porn and man, that shit is good. My money’s on him calling you.”
“Well, thanks, ‘Suet. But I’m not getting my hopes up.” Grantaire tried. Bossuet just glared at him.
“Please, fuck that, man. You’re hopes are already up.”
“Hey Enj.” Joly greeted as he walked into the backroom that he had insisted Enjolras use to take a nap. He wasn’t napping; he was too stressed out to nap, thinking about Courfeyrac and Grantaire and a little more about Grantaire and then as recompense for being a horrible friend he would think about Courf more. It was a long cycle of painful thoughts.
“Joly. Can I see him?” Enjolras scrambled up off the couch, anticipating good news. Joly smiled and nodded and Enjolras felt a flood of relief.
“He’s conscious. Still a little out of it, though, so that will be interesting.” Joly said with a laugh. He began leading Enjolras to Courfeyrac’s room and then suddenly slowed down a little bit. “Soo…” he started.
“Yes?” Enjolras asked, confused.
“I met this really cute patient. Got his number.”
“Oh, that’s… good for you.” Enjolras mumbled. Was now really the time? Okay, that was hypocritical of him…
“He had a hot friend too.” Enjolras stopped walking and stared at Joly, knowing where this was going all of a sudden. “He said he knew you.”
“Did he now.” Enjolras deadpanned. “Did he say anything else?” He could feel his heart beating faster, he didn’t know why, though. Even Grantaire wouldn’t just go around telling people about… stuff like that, right?
“He said to tell you that’s he’s sorry, he’s not good at talking to people, and that he will… re-enact anything you want. As payment. I didn’t understand that part but… why are you gaping at me? Who is this guy?” Enjolras just shook his head and bit his lip, a sudden smile threatening to cross his face.
“Um, no one. Just some jerk I was talking to in the waiting room. Did he leave a number?” Joly held out his arm in answer, which had numbers neatly scrawled across it, “Oh. Well, um, I might need to get that from you.” Enjolras coughed a little at the end. Joly stared at him for a long moment before sighing.
“Come on. Let’s go see Courfeyrac. Even all drugged up he’ll be able to get more information out of you than me.” They walked the short distance left to the waiting room and Enjolras fired off texts of reassurance to Musichetta, Combeferre and Feuilly.
“Hey Courf.” Joly said in his calming ‘nurse voice’ as they walked into his room. Courfeyrac opened his eyes slowly and gave a dopey smile.
“Friends!!” Courfeyrac drawled before frowning, “My head hurts, Enj. Why does my head hurt so baaaad?”
“You hit your head, Courf. When you got in an accident?”
“Yeah, it’s just a slight concussion. Nothing to worry about, considering.” Joly added. Courf nodded slowly and then looked back at Enjolras.
“Why are you blushing? Joly, why is Enjolras smiling and blushing? Is this part of my concussion? This never happens.”
“What? I never smile?” Enjolras asked, slightly offended. Also, how the fuck was Courfeyrac so good at this moments after he was in surgery for God’s sake?
“Not like that you don’t.” Courfeyrac stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world before re-settling himself on the cushions and then closing his eyes and… yeah he was snoring. He fell asleep.
“Courf?” Enjolras asked, tapping his shoulder gingerly, but no. Courfeyrac had for real fucking fallen asleep.
“I can’t believe that just happened.” Joly chuckled.
“Can’t you though? He’s never handled his drugs well.” Enjolras replied just as his phone vibrated. “Oh, it’s Feuilly. He’s in the waiting room. You wanna go get him, Joly?” Joly nodded and backed up out of the room, leaving Enjolras alone with Courf’s sleeping form. Enjolras stared for a long moment at his friend, shocked for a moment at how lucky he was the Courfeyrac was okay. Also by how shit of a friend he was because, goddamn it, Courfeyrac had just been in a serious accident and Enjolras was worried about a boy.
A very cute boy but- SHIT, that is irrelevant.
“I can hear you thinking from down here.” Courfeyrac muttered, eyes still closed.
“How the hell are you doing that? You’re asleep.”
“I am always watching, Enj. Now, what’s the deal with you?” Courfeyrac asked, shifting in his bed but fluttering his eyes open.
“Nothing.” Enjolras mumbled, “At least nothing important. We should be talking about you and your illness. How do you feel?”
“Aw, fuck Enj, I’m not ill! I’m maybe a little bit broken… and a little loopy, maybe, but I am far from ill and I resent that accusation. Now tell me what’s got your freckled cheeks all rosy!”
“My cheeks are not rosy!” Enjolras stammered, bringing up his hands to cover his definitely-not-rosy face.
“They are as rosy as your perfect skin can get,” Feuilly teased with a wink, sliding out of nowhere and into the seat next to Enjolras, “How are you doing, Courf? Everything in order? Obviously you’re well enough to argue with Enjolras, so you can’t be too bad.” He added with a chuckle, making Enjolras roll his eyes.
“Well, I’m fine. Enj is the one keeping secrets.”
“Did he tell you he met the porn star.”
“What?! You met R?!”
“His full name is Grantaire.” Enjolras added quietly, for lack of better things to say.
“How did you know?”
“He called me and told me, while you were in surgery.”
“I actually got his number for him.”
“This is the best thing I’ve ever heard!”
“Have you called him yet?”
“Well do it!”
“Stop pressuring me! I’m trying to mourn Courfeyrac!”
“I’m not dead.”
“Stop being a coward, Enjolras, and call the porn star.”
“Fine! Joly, give me your goddam arm! … Here goes nothing.”
“Shit, Shit, SHIT!” Grantaire threw his phone pathetically onto Bossuet’s lap as their taxi turned a sharp corner.
“What?” Bossuet moaned, shoving Grantaire’s phone back at him in defiance.
“It’s a number I don’t know,” Grantaire spat out, “and not an 800 number. Bousset nobody calls me that I don’t know! It’s him. It’s Enjolras. What the fuck? Doesn’t he know he’s supposed to wait three days? I’m simply not prepared. I guess this is the end of romantic courtesy- ”
“Hey,” Bossuet grabbed the phone back from where Grantaire had been holding it an arm’s length away and pitched his voice down a bit when he answered it, in what Grantaire assumed he was trying to make sexy, but just sounded like a man out of a bad porno.
“WhAT are you doing?” Grantaire whispered, trying not to alarm the very pretty and very tired-looking cab driver any more than he was sure they already had.
“I’m on a call,” Bossuet said nonchalantly, possibly the only thing Bossuet had ever managed to do with nonchalance.
“Give me that,” R hissed, reaching desperately for his phone as he heard Enjolras’ voice through the speaker. “You don’t sound anything like me.”
“This is exactly how you sound, consider this a wake-up call for how you present yourself to the world.”
Bossuet began again in that same voice, “My friend? Oh, yeah, everything went about as smoothly as could be expected. Thanks for asking. Is that the only reason you called, Apollo?”
Grantaire reached for the phone one more time before his trademark “indifferent but and surprisingly like a twelve year-old pouting face” kicked in and he leaned back against his window to anxiously await the end result of the call.
“Don’t say anything stupid.” He muttered petulantly.
“Yeah, because you’re a fucking existential genius.” Bossuet retorted, with his hand over the mouthpiece before putting it on speaker and adamantly shushing R, going the extra mile by placing his hand firmly over Grantaire’s mouth.
“...anyway, I feel like a shitty friend, but he’s insisting that I ask you out. For this Friday maybe? I mean, if you want to. You really don’t have to, I mean if you have other plans, or something. Not that I don’t want you to go, I do. But that shouldn’t affect your decision-making, and - OW Courf, that hurt...so do you want to go out with me this Friday? All my friends are laughing at me right now, I’m not gonna lie.”
“Enjolras,” Bossuet answered in his “Grantaire” voice, “you’ll be happy to hear that I am completely free on Friday so you do in fact get to date me, Grantaire.”
“Great!!! … Really? That speech worked on you? Because honestly, I don’t have much experience, but I think that was the worst attempt to ask someone out … ever.”
“Well you’re not wrong,” Bossuet answered, receiving a withering look from Grantaire, “but lucky for you, I’m actually a big softy under this harsh, cynical exterior - OH GOOD GOD!”
Bossuet jumped back as Grantaire licked Bossuet’s hand, and took out the pack of antibacterial wipes Joly had insisted on him taking with him from the hospital and hurriedly wiped his hand.
“Grantaire… Are you okay?” Enjolras asked, sounding understandably concerned.
“Yes! I am fine! So, the date?” Grantaire answered frantically.
“Yeah, the date… Why don’t we meet at the Cafe Musain around 7? Do you know where that is?” Grantaire heard Enjolras ask almost timidly.
“I do. That sounds great,” Grantaire breathed.
“Can’t wait,” Bossuet added, “But did you put any thought into the re-enacting thing-”
“Goodbye!” Grantaire yelled quickly before hanging up abruptly. “I fucking hate you.”
“You should be nice to me,” Bossuet scolded, “I’m injured.”
“When are you not injured?” R retorted.
“Excuse me, miss?” Bossuet leaned forward to talk to the cabdriver, “Don’t you think I did my friend here a favor and that he’s being a little bit of a bitch right now?”
Grantaire heard the woman laugh under her breath as she made eye contact with R in the rear-view mirror.
“Look, you can say what you want about baldy over here, but he does one hell of an impression of you.”
“Thank you!” Bossuet smacked the seat between him and Grantaire. “You know, he had the nerve to tell me that I didn’t know him the other day? Me! He said that to my face! And it cut me, miss...it cut me deep.”
“That sounds rough, buddy,” she said with almost no trace of sympathy.
“You know,” Bossuet continued, the pain pills by now in full effect, “you are a very intelligent person. It feels like you just get me, you know? And you have very nice hair...it smells nice...like vanilla.”
“Alright, Bossuet,” Grantaire clapped him on the shoulder, “come on, isn’t one attractive person enough for one night?”
“I guess you’re right,” Bossuet answered, slumping back in his seat, “I shouldn’t get greedy. And I am in no position to adequately court anyone with this busted piece of shit.”
The cab pulled up to Bossuet’s apartment and Grantaire slid out to help Bossuet up the stairs and most likely crash there, to make sure Bossuet didn’t hurt himself again.
Bossuet leaned forward once more before getting out.
“But never fear, m’lady, we will see each other again.”
“If you can catch me,” the woman winked and drove off.
“Wow,” Bossuet mumbled as he watched the cab disappear, “I am on today!” He exclaimed louder, turning to Grantaire and smiling infectiously. “Did you see that?! I’m practically three for three.”
“Yeah, that girl, the hot nurse and his girlfriend who I will definitely be in contact with, and then Enjolras. Those were all me.”
“Yeah, way to go, tiger.” Grantaire teased, but he couldn’t find it in him to actually be bitterly sarcastic. Because he had a date.
“What about him?” Jehan asked, pointing to the guy sitting at the bench across from them, holding his phone to his ear and laughing happily, “I’d fuck him. Would you fuck him?” Grantaire shrugged, thinking the guy had a little too much brown hair for his newly altered taste.
“No. I’d see him naked, but, eh.” Grantaire shrugged and scanned the crowd as he took another bite of Jehan’s caramel popcorn. “Okay, what about that one? He’s really good looking. He’s got huge balls.” Jehan stared at R and pushed is shoulder lightly.
“Are you asking me if I would make love to that dog?” Jehan asked, incredulous as they looked at the Pit Bull sitting with his owner a few feet away from them.
“Obviously if you already were a dog-”
“Oh! Oooh! Ooh! He’s cute! I’d fuck him so hard.” Jehan exclaimed, shaking Grantaire’s shoulder and pointing to a guy who was just crossing the street, headed towards the Café Musain that he and Jehan were sitting right in front of. And, believe it or not, he was being pushed by-
“Enjolras!” Grantaire yelled, instantly regretting it. He had no idea what pushed him to action without having a plan first. He wasn’t even drunk, where the fuck did his inhibition go?
Enjolras looked over and smiled widely, making Grantaire’s knees weak even though he was seated. That was a powerful smile that could manage that. He steered his friend’s wheelchair and started walking towards them.
“Oh my God, you know them?” Jehan whispered, sitting up straighter and readjusting the bun their dreads were in, not once taking their eyes of the boy in the wheelchair.
“Yeah, he’s the one from the ER. I told you about that. I remember telling you about that.” Grantaire whispered back. Jehan’s eyes widened and they nudged Grantaire playfully, about to say something but couldn’t as they were cut off by Enjolras’ greeting.
“Grantaire.” He said, and Grantaire stood in response waving a little and not knowing what to do. Jehan stared up at him from the bench with a very amused smile on their face.
“Hello, Enjolras.” He was quiet for a long moment. “How are you?” Enjolras smiled softly and oh no he was blushing again. Grantaire loved it when he blushed.
“I’m good thank you. Better now that I’m not, well, sleep-deprived in a hospital waiting room. You?”
“Pretty much the same, thanks…” Jehan nudged him with their foot and gestured to the other boy, “Oh! Um, this is my friend Jehan by the way. They would like to know who your friend is.” Grantaire explained, making Enjolras laugh and the curly-haired boy sit up straighter with a pleased look firmly across his features.
“This is my friend Courfeyrac.”
“That must’ve hurt.” Jehan said gesturing to the cast adorning his leg. Courfeyrac nodded and opened his mouth to respond but Jehan cut him off again, “Did you trip? On your descent from heaven?” They smirked widely and Grantaire groaned.
“Four years of a Creative Writing Major and you go with that?” R complained, making both other men laugh and Jehan just shrug.
“It worked well.” Courf added, “I’m sold.”
“Yeah, that’s just because they’re cute,” Enjolras added, looking at Grantaire and whispering, “He saw them from across the street. Practically begged me to walk us over here.” Courfeyrac shrugged and looked completely unapologetic.
“We were just going to get coffee. Did you two want to join us?” Courfeyrac asked, not taking his eyes of Jehan, who returned his stare with a wide smile. They shook their head and jumped off the bench them and Grantaire had been sitting on.
“I was actually thinking about going home, calling it a day.” They explained, nodding and smiling the smile that Grantaire knew was dangerous. Grantaire stood up as well, just opening his mouth to protest when Courfeyrac started talking instead.
“Yeah me too.” He said, rolling away from Enjolras and moving to Jehan’s side. “I’ll come with you.”
“I’ll hail the cab.” Jehan offered, stepping behind Courf and helping push him away.
They were gone before he of Enj could make a noise of protest.
“Um, what just happened?” Enjolras asked, confusion etched across his pretty face.
“I have no idea.” Grantaire muttered. He was still staring after the two abandoners in shock. After a moment he turned to Enjolras, laughing softly and trying not to blush under his gaze.
“So it’s just the two of us.” Enjolras mused. Grantaire nodded, smiling too much to say anything. “Logically, it would make sense if we, just… moved out date forward a little? Do you wanna do… that?” Fuck he was adorable.
“Fuck, you’re adorable.” Grantaire said out loud, deciding Enjolras needed to know it. The boy laughed and shook his head.
“Please. I’m a mess, you should see me-” He looked at himself in the store window reflection and nodded, “Oh, actually I look pretty good, never mind.” Grantaire laughed and Enjolras smiled widely, looking a lot like a cat who got the cream.
“You do, that’s true.” They stared at each other for another long beat. “So, the date?”
“Yes, let’s date.”