E/R 38 pls
38. "Jet Lag" by Simple Plan and Natasha Bedingfield.
E/R, modern AU, established relationship.
Just as he had done for the past few mornings, as soon as his phone alarm went off, Enjolras rolled over to grab his phone, silence the alarm, and immediately FaceTime Grantaire. Unlike the past few mornings, however, his call went unanswered, and Enjolras frowned. He sent a quick text. You up?
No flashing dots appeared indicating Grantaire was replying, and Enjolras sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face. He was just about to toss his phone aside and get up to shower when it rang and Enjolras let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. “Hey,” he said, as Grantaire’s face swam into view on the screen. “Were you asleep?”
“Barely,” Grantaire said. “But, uh, I actually had my phone charging in the other room and lost track of the time.”
Even though he had no reason to think so, Enjolras couldn’t help but feel like that was a lie, and he frowned slightly. “Everything ok?”
Grantaire flashed him a tired but genuine smile. “Everything is fine,” he assured him, and Enjolras relaxed, just a little. “Other than the fact that it is, like, 2 in the morning here. And this late night shit is not for me anymore. Five years ago, this would have been a typical Tuesday. Now, I’m gonna need, like, six weeks to recover.”
“You and me both,” Enjolras sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be really glad to get out of Switzerland and to a more reasonable time zone. Especially one with far more reasonable prices.”
“That sounds like a story,” Grantaire said with a grin. “Protesting the World Economic Forum at Davos not everything you dreamed it’d be?”
Enjolras groaned. “Hardly,” he said. “I paid $17 for a tuna fish sandwich yesterday. And it wasn’t a fancy sandwich. It was on white bread.”
Grantaire nodded appreciatively. “A fact that I’m sure was easier for you to swallow when you remembered that you don’t like tuna fish,” he said, sniggering as Enjolras gave him the finger. “So, uh, why exactly did you get a tuna sandwich anyway?”
“I thought it was turkey,” Enjolras said with a sigh. “My French isn’t what it used to be.”
Grantaire looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. “Don’t they mostly speak German in Davos?”
“Shut up,” Enjolras groaned, and now Grantaire did laugh. After a moment, Enjolras reluctantly joined, barking a laugh before hesitating. “I miss you,” he said. “And not your German is better than mine.”
“If it’s German you’re looking for, you should be FaceTiming with Marius,” Grantaire teased, though something sobered in his expression. “But I know. And I miss you, too.”
Silence fell between them, and Enjolras hesitated again, not wanting to ruin what had otherwise been a fairly drama-free phone call. “Should we talk about last night?” he hedged finally.
Grantaire groaned, running a tired hand across his face. “Only if you force me to,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry, I really am—”
“I know, Enjolras told him quickly. “And it’s ok, really, I just—”
“I fell asleep during FaceTime sex,” Grantaire interrupted, his hand still covering his face. “There is absolutely nothing ok about that.”
“At least you fell asleep before it got any good?” Enjolras offered. Grantaire just snorted and Enjolras sighed. “It’s the jet lag, I’m sure.”
Grantaire lowered his hand to give Enjolras a look. “Babe, you’re the one in a different time zone.”
“And you’re the one living your life like you are,” Enjolras countered.
Grantaire sighed. “I know,” he murmured, something darkening in his expression.
Enjolras worried his lower lip between his teeth before saying bracingly, “But hey, after Switzerland, it’s just a quick stop in Germany and then a short jump down to Peru for a couple days—”
“Peru?” Grantaire interrupted, his voice strained. “When the hell did Peru get added to agenda?”
Enjolras had the sudden, horrible realization that while he’d let Combeferre and Courfeyrac know about his plans to meet with the protestors in Peru, he’d forgotten to include Grantaire on that particular email. “Well, seeing as how there’s been widespread state violence against protestors—” he started, a defensive edge creeping into his voice.
“All of which is being thoroughly covered by folks on the ground,” Grantaire said, his voice tight.
“I know that, but—”
Grantaire sighed. “But what?” he asked tiredly.
Enjolras shrugged. “But it’s important,” he said quietly.
There was a long pause before Grantaire jerked a nod, not quite meeting Enjolras’s eyes. “I know,” he said. “I just miss you.”
“I know,” Enjolras echoed. “I miss you, too.”
Silence again stretched between them, but Enjolras didn’t try to interrupt it this time, just watching as Grantaire forced his expression into something neutral before finally meeting Enjolras’s eyes again. “Listen,” he started, “I hate to do this given the timing of the conversation we just finished, and I really don’t want you to read too much into it, but can we cancel our standing call before you go to bed tonight?”
“Oh,” Enjolras said, feeling his heart sink to somewhere near his stomach. He scratched the back of his neck before admitting, “It’s a little hard for me not to read into that, given everything.”
“I know,” Grantaire said heavily. “I just really need some sleep.”
Though Enjolras nodded, he couldn’t help but ask quietly, “At, what, 4:30 in the afternoon?”
Grantaire sighed again. “If that’s what it takes.”
Enjolras nodded again, even though he was the one who could no longer quite meet Grantaire’s eyes. “Ok,” he said. “Then I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He hesitated before adding, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Grantaire said before ending the call, and Enjolras stared down at the screen of his phone for a long moment, trying very hard to resist the sudden, inexplicable urge to hurl his phone against the wall.
— — — — —
Needles to say, when Enjolras woke up almost 24 hours later in a terrible mood, it wasn’t just because he’d somehow managed to wake up before his phone alarm went off. In fact, it took him a long moment of glowering up at his ceiling to realize what exactly had woken him up in the first place: the sound of knocking on the door of his AirBNB.
He lay there for a moment longer before finally getting up, willing himself not to bite the head off of whichever fellow protester had the misfortune of knocking on his door that morning. He yanked the door open, ready to tell whoever it was that he needed another hour, but instead, he found himself face-to-face with—
“Grantaire?”
“Hey,” Grantaire said tiredly.
Enjolras stared at him as if he might be imagining him. “What– how?” he croaked.
Grantaire shrugged, the movement slightly hampered by his backpack and puffy green coat. “Had to use basically all your frequent flier miles, but I got the last seat on a flight to Zurich, and then had the misfortune – I mean, uh, luck, to split a cab with some Politico reporter to Davos.” Enjolras just stared at him and Grantaire continued, slightly uncomfortably, “Then, because your AirBNB is like 18 years away from the actual event, I took the world’s most expensive Uber, which, don’t worry, I charged to your AmEx, and now, well.” He shrugged. “Now I’m here.”
“You’re—” Enjolras cut himself off by surging forward to kiss him, cupping his unshaven cheek with one hand, the other hand balling in the folds of his coat, tugging him even closer.
When they broke apart, Grantaire was grinning, though his smile looked slightly dazed. “So I’ll take it you’re not mad that I’m here?”
“Mad?” Enjolras repeated, incredulous. “Why would I be mad?”
“Well, other than because I spent a small fortune here, because your work is important,” Grantaire said. “Which I know as well as if not better than anyone else.” He shrugged again. “So I could understand that my showing up here unannounced may not have been entirely appreciated.”
He was eyeing Enjolras with something like wariness, and Enjolras’s expression softened. “It is very appreciated,” he assured him, kissing him once more. He hesitated before adding, “Though it does make me wonder, why, y’know, you’re here.”
“Well—” Enjolras shivered and Grantaire broke off. “How about we move this conversation out of the doorway?” he suggested and Enjolras barked a laugh.
“Good call,” he said, stepping back to let Grantaire inside.
Grantaire glanced around the place as he dropped his bag before shedding his coat, scarf and mittens. “Heckuva place,” he said mildly.
Enjolras made a face. “Sorry, all the chalets were being rented by the billionaires,” he said sourly.
Grantaire laughed. “Shame.” He held his hand out to Enjolras, who took it, lacing their fingers as he trailed after Grantaire to the couch, Grantaire automatically shifting so that Enjolras could pillow his head against his chest as if they were back home and not in some stranger’s house 4500 miles away.
“So,” Enjolras said, his eyelids fluttering closed as Grantaire automatically started stroking his hair, “why are you here?”
Grantaire laughed lightly, the sound a low rumble against Enjolras’s ear. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said. “Because I fell asleep during FaceTime sex.”
Enjolras frowned and pushed himself upright. “What?” he asked, searching Grantaire’s expression, half-expecting to see that he was teasing. “Why—”
“Enjolras, I fell asleep during sex,” Grantaire interrupted impatiently. “That’s never happened to me before. Embarrassingly soon afterward, sure, but during? With you?”
Enjolras’s frown deepened. “So you thought, what, I would be upset about this enough to merit a little hop, skip and a jump across the Atlantic Ocean?” he asked skeptically.
Grantaire shook his head. “Of course not,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to be upset at all.”
“Well, good,” Enjolras said. “Because for the record, I’m not. And I wasn’t at the time.” He hesitated, feeling like he was missing something obvious. “So then why—”
“Because I was upset!” Grantaire told him, all hints of amusement gone. “Because when you’re halfway around the world, I get you for, charitably, half an hour a day. And I fell asleep and wasted that.” He paused before adding, a little pointedly, “Especially since I just found out you’ve added a stop to your itinerary.”
Enjolras winced. “I know I should’ve cleared it with you first—”
“You never need to clear things with me,” Grantaire told him. “But a head’s up would’ve been nice.”
“I know,” Enjolras said quietly, “and I’m sorry.”
Grantaire nodded. “So since I figured it’ll be at least another week until you’re home, I figured I owed it to both of us to make sure we had more than a half hour together.”
Automatically, Enjolras glanced over at the clock on the wall. “How long do we have together?”
“My flight leaves at 3 tomorrow afternoon<” Grantaire told him. “So, basically tonight.”
Enjolras made a face, even though he had suspected as much. “And that’s enough to make it worth it?”
“For you? Always.”
Grantaire said it easily, like it was the simplest declaration in the world, and Enjolras reached out automatically for him, kissing him gently. “I love you,” he murmured.
Grantaire tugged him back down against him. “I know. I love you, too.” He tugged lightly on one of Enjolras’s curls. “And it’s really fucking good to see you in person.”
Enjolras traced a finger lightly against Grantaire’s chest. “About Peru—”
“You don’t need to explain,” Grantaire said.
Enjolras shook his head. “I wasn’t going to. But I had a thought.” He took a deep breath. “How about after Peru, we meet in Mexico for a little together time?”
For a moment, Grantaire lit up. Then his eyes narrowed. “Why Mexico?”
Even after all this time, Enjolras would never get over how quickly Grantaire could see through him. “Well,” he started, a little weakly, “there’s rumblings about the government reneging on their tentative deal with the ejidatarios who were protesting at Chichén Itzá, so I figured—”
Grantaire snorted a laugh. “Kill two birds with one stone,” he muttered. “Why am I not surprised?” He bent to press a kiss to Enjolras’s forehead. “How about you just come home?”
Enjolras smiled at him. “That I think I can do.”
They could have stayed like that for hours, but then, from the bedroom, Enjolras’s phone alarm went off and Grantaire’s hand stilled in his hair. “Duty calls?”
Enjolras shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “We’ve got time.”
A small, sharp smile tugged at the corner of Grantaire’s lips. “How much time?” he asked, his voice pitched low.
Enjolras laughed. “Probably not enough time for that, especially if I want to shower before hitting the protest.”
Grantaire didn’t look disappointed. Instead, he looked almost contemplative. “How about we kill two birds with one stone?”
Enjolras pursed his lips. “What did you have in mind?”
Grantaire shrugged, his smile widening. “Well, you need to shower, and after about 12 hours of traveling, I definitely need to shower.”
It was hardly the most subtle suggestion, but Enjolras didn’t care. They were together, no matter how briefly, and he had never been one to waste time. Or water, for that matter. He grinned and stood, offering Grantaire his hand. “That I think I can do.”
