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Love Ain't Easy but it Sure is Hard Enough

Summary:

Grantaire's countdown changes when he decides to go to a meeting Bahorel told him about. Enjolras' changes when a new comer shows up. It's not the burst of the music of angels and light of the sun they had all been told it would be.

Notes:

Here is Grantaire and Enjolras' story about becoming soulmates. The title is from an ABBA song. It seemed fitting.

Work Text:

Grantaire glanced at his wrist. He had decided, last minute, to go to this meeting (he wasn’t even sure what they were meeting about) that Bahorel told him about. He was running late. Of course. Grantaire glanced down at his watch and cursed loudly. He was five minutes late and still not to the cafe.

Grantaire stopped. The numbers on his wrist changed. Drastically. Originally he had over three years left. He had prepared himself for meeting his soulmate about four months before he graduated college- assuming he finished on time- but now it had changed to just six minutes. He sprinted towards the cafe and noticed the counter ticking faster than usual, reading just thirty seconds as he opened the cafe doors.

He scanned the cafe, his counter going haywire as he looked around. It reached zero at the same moment his eyes fell on the blond speaking in the back. Grantaire’s breath caught. He walked forward, not taking his eyes off of the other man. He slid into a chair, almost mesmerized.

“We need to make sure that People’s Electricity is held accountable for their bad business practices! Consumers deserve better! They should remember what we did to the grocery supercenter. We won’t let…..” Enjolras trailed off, his eyes falling on the new comer first, then almost immediately his wrist. The countdown, which had been at three years was now at zero. How? How had three years suddenly changed to zero?

“Enjolras?” Combeferre asked, looking up from his notes.

“What? Sorry, what was I saying?” He blinked a couple times.

Courfeyrac looked over and saw the zeros. “Who is it, Enj? Everyone check your wrists!”

No one looked at their wrists, instead they turned their attention to the new comer. Grantaire was still staring at Enjolras.

“No shit…” Bahorel said.

Enjolras’ eyes fell on Grantaire. “I… uhm….” he swallowed.

“Have you ever seen Enjolras speechless before?” Jehan whispered, six heads shook in unison.

“I think we’ll call this meeting adjourned and meet again tomorrow, same time.” Combeferre said, before ushering everyone except Enjolras and Grantaire out.

“So.” Enjolras began, studying their wrists. “Did yours suddenly jump from three years to five minutes?”

“Yeah. Uhm. It did. I’m Grantaire, by the way, most people call me R.”

Enjolras smiled slightly. “Funny. I’m Enjolras.”

“So, where do we go from here?” Grantaire bit his lip.

“I think we should get to know each other.”

****************

That conversation happened four years ago, but Grantaire still remembered it. He wished things were still as simple: Enjolras being open to the idea of them, wanting to know more about Grantaire. Not their current cycle of Enjolras ignoring Grantaire for days in favor of his current cause, Grantaire baiting him during the meeting, and having a huge fight that ends the meeting early. He was tired of it. Tired of the cruel words, the sleepless nights, the shouting, the awkward glances of their friends, everything.

“Do you aspire to anything, Grantaire? Or are you content to waste your life drinking and ruining our work?”

“You say I’m wasting my life, yet you are the one who ignores their friends and their soulmate for what you deem the greater good. I guess the world is more important to you than the people you say you love.”

“At least I’m putting my life to use! What are you doing? Baiting me day and night, asking me to give up all I stand for just so you can feel needed. Maybe you should try actually being needed!”

Grantaire shuddered and raised the bottle to his lips, trying to drown out the memory. Enjolras’ words cut him like a knife. Was he really being so selfish, asking so much? All he wanted was for Enjolras to love him, to spend time with him. Was that so wrong? He drained the bottle and stumbled towards his bedroom.

It had been over four years since they had met and their counters reached zero. Four years since they had found out they were soul mates and were happy to get to know each other. Four years and Grantaire was still messing this up.

He tripped over the nightstand and landed on the floor. Hot tears of pain, or frustration- he couldn’t tell, poured down his cheeks. He sobbed loudly, pounding the floor in anger. Either at himself, or Enjolras, or the entire situation. He glanced at his wrist and saw that the zeros that had resided there for four years had suddenly changed.

01:06:28:05

Grantaire was horrified. It was official, he had lost Enjolras.

 

Enjolras walked quickly, trying to work off the anger and frustration. He had been walking for over two hours and still felt horrible. But why? Usually it only took a half hour or so after their fights for him to no longer be mad at Grantaire. Why was he….

“Because you’re mad at yourself this time.”

The voice in his head seemed to shout. It was true. Enjolras wasn’t mad at Grantaire, he was mad at himself. Grantaire had not said anything untrue, yet he was cruel in response. Why? Why did he have to be so cruel? He wanted to be with Grantaire. He wanted to make this work.

“Do you really?”

Enjolras stopped walking, the blood draining from his face.

“The man has no goals, believes in nothing, and hates what you do. Do you really want to be with him?”

He glanced down at his wrist and gasped. The zeros he was used to seeing had changed.

01:06:28:05

What did this mean? Was he destined for a new soul mate? Did he and Grantaire just need time to work through this? Enjolras felt his stomach flip. This would kill Grantaire. The man was in love with Enjolras. He knew it- it was hardly subtle. Enjolras turned and sprinted for R’s apartment.

He took a moment to catch his breath (did he really just run four miles?) then pressed the buzzer. Again, and again, and again. No answer. Enjolras cursed loudly. Why hadn’t he gotten a spare key yet? Oh, right. Their last argument ended in the “we need space talk”. Way to go Enjolras. He pulled on the door then slammed his fist into it in frustration. A woman walking in the hall jumped in surprise. After a brief conversation she let him in.

*************

Grantaire blinked awake, his head pounding. It’s not the first hangover he’s woken up with, and it surely won’t be the last. He blinked and realized that he was not alone. Grantaire tried to sit up and wake him up, but his head spun and his chest burned. He let his head fall back onto the pillow.

Enjolras jerked awake. His back hurt, but he ignored it and immediately looked at Grantaire. He sighed in relief and took Grantaire’s hand.

“You’re awake!” he said. “How does your head feel?”

Grantaire groaned. “Like shit. What happened?”

“You fell down the stairs. I came over to apologize last night and found you. Joly checked you over- if you still have a headache we need to take you in.”

Grantaire bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut. Great. He loses his soul mate and falls down the stairs in the same night. That’s exactly what he needed. He tried to hold back tears, but they streamed down his cheek anyway.

Enjolras took Grantaire’s hand, squeezing it lightly. “It’ll be okay, R. You’ll be okay.” he said, wiping the tears from the other man’s face. “Just tell me, honestly, how your head feels.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Grantaire said weakly. He lifted up his wrist. Enjolras looked at at and sighed.

“Grantaire- look.” he showed him his own wrist, which had an identical countdown. “I’m not leaving.”

Grantaire inspected Enjolras’ wrist, then breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought I’d driven you away. I thought I’d blown it all.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Enjolras smiled, cupping Grantaire’s cheek and gently rubbing his thumb across the other man’s cheek. “Now, your head?”

“Hurts like hell.”

 

**********

Grantaire eased himself down onto the couch, with Enjolras’ help. His head was pounding, but at least there was no serious damage. He had a concussion, nothing else.

Enjolras gently combed his fingers through Grantaire’s hair. “I know you’re going to say ‘I told you nothing was wrong’, but I’m glad we took you in.”

“I’m not going to say I told you so. Joly would never have left us alone.” Grantaire said softly, resting his head in Enjolras’ lap.

Enjolras was silent for several minutes before he asked the question that had been on the tip of his tongue for hours.

“What happened last night? Why…. I mean, I know we fought, but what happened after?”

“I thought, after our fight, that you didn’t want to be with me. I couldn’t handle it, I went out and got really drunk. The bartender told me I’d had enough and that I should go home, so I did. But I guess I was too drunk to manage the stairs because the next thing I know I wake up and you’re at my bedside. I was so scared yesterday that I was going to be alone, that I’d screwed it up. I just couldn’t handle it.” his chin quivered and tears threatened to fall.

“Shhh, R. You were upset. And it was my fault. I said horrible things. Shhhh.” he leaned over and kissed the top of Grantaire’s head. “I’m sorry. I was angry and said terrible things. Things that weren’t true.”

“What about our countdowns?” he traced the numbers on Enjolras’ wrist.

“We both know that our choices can affect the countdown. Last night we both had our doubts. I made poor choices. I think we shouldn’t worry about the countdown and talk about how to handle our arguments so that we’re not so angry at each other. But after your head is better.”

Grantaire nodded. “I’m sorry too. I baited you. I wanted your attention.”

“And you had every reason to want that. I work too much. I ignore people. And for that I’m sorry. You deserve more than that.”

 

*****************************************

Grantaire laid on the couch, sleeping through a movie. Enjolras had texted him an hour ago saying he was on his way home from work. Grantaire had every intention of having dinner ready for him, but he had been up all night finishing the illustrations he had been hired to do.

Enjolras let himself into the apartment and saw Grantaire sleeping on the couch, snoring softly. He draped a blanket over him and went into the kitchen. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him when he saw yesterday’s leftovers sitting in the microwave. Enjolras started the microwave again and walked back into the living room. He leaned over and kissed Grantaire’s forehead.

“Rise and shine.” he said softly, brushing hair from Grantaire’s face. He stirred, waking slowly. He stretched and sat up.

“I was going to have dinner ready for you- but I fell asleep.”

“I reset the microwave. We’ll have food soon. I appreciate the thought. Have you spoken to Courfeyrac today? How’s he doing?”

“He spent the day with Jehan. I think he’s still shaken up about the whole thing. I talked to Jehan earlier, we agreed not to tell him about the accident. Jehan’s had Courfeyrac’s name on his wrist for over a year. I mean, how do we even know they were the person? Maybe his counter stopped because he was confused. We both know that major life choices and indecision can change what’s on your wrist.”

“So he’s doing better than yesterday?” Enjolras pulled out dishes and silverware.

“Yes. He’s actually kind of optimistic about it. When I talked to him earlier, he said he’d been having doubts about his counter. He and Jehan have been spending alot of time together.”

“Good! That’ll be good for him. We all know how excited he is about the whole soulmate thing.”

It was a week later when Courfeyrac bounded into the cafe, grinning broadly and showing off his wrist.

Jean Prouvaire

“Look! I knew it!” He sat down next to Grantaire. “You were right. You were totally right!”

“Have you told Jehan?” Grantaire asked, eyeing where the poet was sitting, deep in conversation with Feuilly.

“Not yet. I’m going to surprise him. We’re going out for dinner. What about you and Enjolras? How are things going with you?”

“I don’t know- I don’t have his name, but we don’t really have a countdown either. Just smudges.”

“Don’t worry, R, you two will work it out. Maybe the smudges mean you’re close?”

“That’s what I try to remind myself.”

Later that night, Grantaire was laying on the bed, panting and running a hand through Enjolras’ hair. Enjolras, also breathing heavily, hummed and curled closer to Grantaire.

“What are you thinking?” Grantaire asked, noting the far-away look on his boyfriend’s face.

“That that was fucking fantastic.” he said, smirking.

“Well, I know that, but what are you really thinking.” he kissed him lightly.
“I’m thinking that I love you. That I’m glad you’re here. That I think this will work.” he got up and cleaned them up. “I’m thinking that I don’t care what’s on our wrist. I’m tired of trying to live by a timetable we don’t understand. Today was fantastic- the last hour was amazing,” he grinned, blushing slightly, “And I don’t think we need to measure ourselves by some random marking on our wrists. I love you. That’s enough. Right?”

Grantaire pulled Enjolras back into bed and yanked the blankets up over them. “I love you too, and that’s good enough for me. Why shouldn’t we be in charge of ourselves?”

Grantaire felt a tickle on his wrist, he snuck a peek and couldn’t help the grin that formed. It was there, clear as day.

Enjolras

He kissed Enjolras and snuggled closer to him. “I love you. And I don’t care that we argue a lot. I don’t care that we don’t always agree.”

Enjolras smiled. “Me neither. What were you looking at?”

Grantaire showed him his wrist. “This. I’ll bet you have something similar.” Enjolras peeked at his own wrist and found Grantaire’s name there, in his fancy script that he reserved for his work.

“I thought we didn’t care what was on our wrists?”

“I don’t,” Grantaire said, tracing his name, “But we put these there. They didn’t just show up randomly and we magically are happy. We decided. We figured it out.”

Enjolras laughed, “Control freak.”

“Says you.” Grantaire fell asleep with a smile on his face

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