#first i got covid. shook it off but my god that cough lingered. and i missed so much class

[fingertipsmp3]

At least I can cling to the fact that no matter how bad things get, it’s not October 2021 anymore

[kjack89]

When All This is Over

For @adorablecrab, my very belated fill from the @bishopmyrielfundraiser. Sorry it’s taken me so long!!

The request was for Modern AU, getting together fluff, and, well, I’ve done my best :)

E/R, Modern AU. COVID-19 stay at home order related because I am nothing if not the most predictable of trash.

“Alright everyone,” Enjolras said, raising his voice to be heard over the din that signified the natural end of a Les Amis meeting, even if it sounded more than a little different through the speakers of his computer via Zoom than in the backroom of the Musain. “Let’s call it a night. We’ve all got our assignments, and I’ll be in touch with any follow-ups as needed.”

“Enj,” Courfeyrac said, resting his chin on his hand, “you do realize that since we all talk and text, like, multiple times a day, and we’re now on week, what, 8 of social isolation, you probably don’t need to worry about doing ‘follow-ups’, right?”

Enjolras ignored him. “We’ll meet back here on Saturday. Combeferre will send the link again—”

“Because I’m the only one with a licensed Zoom account,” Combeferre grumbled. “One of the only fringe perks of doing a postdoc.”

“And believe me,” Grantaire interjected with a smirk, “we all appreciate your sacrifice for the Cause.”

“As opposed to everything you’ve contributed,” Combeferre shot back. “Which, let me check my notes here, but, uh, what exactly have you contributed recently?”

Grantaire’s smirk didn’t slip as he raised his beer bottle in a mock toast. “Morale,” he said simply.

Bossuet tried to cover his laugh with a fake cough that turned into a real cough, Joly pounding on his back worriedly, and Enjolras sighed. “On that note,” he said, loud enough to be heard over Bossuet’s coughing, “I will talk to you all later.”

He waited for everyone to hop off so he could end the meeting, but to his surprise, as the rest of the squares on his screen disappeared, one remained, even if it was without its former occupant. Grantaire’s video feed remained on his computer, and Enjolras frowned. “Grantaire?” he called, feeling foolish when Grantaire didn’t answer. “Are you still there? Did you need something?”

There was no answer and Enjolras sighed, his cursor lingering over the ‘End Meeting For All’ button. But something, likely against his better judgment, stopped him.

It was probably the same thing that had stopped him from kicking Grantaire out after the man had first wandered into a Les Amis meeting all those years ago, the one decision of his that Combeferre had ever openly questioned. But there was just something about Grantaire, something that infuriated and inspired Enjolras in somewhat equal measures. 

The fury part had happened a lot less recently, but Enjolras suspected that was a temporary side effect of not being in the same room with each other, and was likely to be as temporary as this stay at home order they were all under.

Shaking his head, Enjolras turned back to the work that he needed to do, leaving the Zoom call on in the background. About fifteen minutes later, Grantaire wandered back into frame, holding a full bottle of beer. “Oh, there you are,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire did an almost comical doubletake, his beer bubbling over the lip of the bottle.

“Jesus Christ,” Grantaire huffed as he quickly sipped at the foam to stop it from overflowing. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Sorry,” Enjolras told him.

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “Funny, you sure don’t sound it,” he said, sitting back down in front of his laptop. “Besides, isn’t the meeting over? Or have I been held after class so you can scold me?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Believe me, if I thought scolding you would do any good, I’d’ve tried it long ago.” Grantaire grinned and Enjolras allowed himself a small smile as well. “And yes, the meeting is over, but you were still in the call.”

“Ok,” Grantaire said slowly, “but you’re the host. You could’ve just ended it for everyone, myself included.”

“I know, but I didn’t want to just disappear on you.”

Grantaire blinked. “You know, that may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes again. “Shut up,” he said, but without much heat.

The video of Grantaire suddenly tilted, as if he had picked up his laptop, and a moment later, he came back into view, reclining on his couch, his computer resting on his stomach. “So what are you up to?” he asked, taking a sip of beer.

“Trying to figure out what protesting looks like in the age of social distancing,” Enjolras said with a sigh. “Our die-in at the state capitol was incredibly successful, but—”

“But laying out body bags doesn’t exactly have the same media impact as real humans lying there?” Grantaire supplied wryly. “Yeah, but what else can you do?”

Enjolras shrugged, glancing down at his notes. “I was thinking of trying to put together some kind of virtual rally, but even that’s not going to have the same impact.”

Grantaire nodded slowly. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he said bracingly, and Enjolras raised an eye at him.

“You know, that may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he said, and Grantaire laughed.

“Shut up,” he said. “Tell anyone I said it, and I’ll deny it.”

Enjolras grinned. “They wouldn’t believe me, anyway.” He hesitated. “So I’ll assume since you’re still on this call that you don’t have any better plans for this evening?”

Grantaire sighed. “I’m afraid that even my usually full social calendar has been negatively impacted by COVID-19,” he said with a dramatic sigh, clearly doing his best Courfeyrac impression, and Enjolras snorted. “But I can go if you need to get work done.”

Enjolras hesitated. “Honestly, it’s kind of nice having someone online with me,” he admitted. “Almost reminds me of all those nights at the Musain, y’know?”

“When you were working late and I was too drunk to stumble home?” Grantaire supplied.

“Well, something like that, anyway.”

Grantaire nodded slowly, something wistful creeping into his expression. Then, abruptly, he shook his head. “Never though I’d see the day where I missed that,” he said ruefully.

“Yeah,” Enjolras said. “I know what you mean.”

Grantaire sighed, his head tipping back to rest against the arm of his couch. “I just want things to go back to normal,” he said, his voice muffled from being further away from his computer’s microphone.

Enjolras made a face. “Do you even know what that means?” he asked, the sharpness in his voice making it teeter on the edge of a demand.

Grantaire sat upright again and rolled his eyes. “Yes, because I’ve clearly thought through every single socio-economic implication of stating my wish for ‘normalcy’,” he sniped. “Fine, if it’ll make you happy, I want my particular, individual life circumstances to return to how they were before.”

“It’s not about making me happy,” Enjolras pointed out. “It’s about making yourself happy. Or do you really want to go back to working two minimum wage jobs just to scrape by in between selling your paintings?”

Grantaire pretended to consider it. “It wasn’t so bad,” he hedged, and when Enjolras just gave him a look, he laughed and shook his head. “Ok, so the work was shit but the hours were manageable and besides, that way I got to spend my free time doing what I wanted. And besides, it’s a helluva lot better than being unemployed.”

Enjolras winced. “Fair point.”

Grantaire took another swig of beer. “What about you?” he asked. “Are you eager for your individual life circumstances to go back to normal?”

“Not sure anyone would call anything in my life normal,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire choked on his sip of beer.

“Truer words have never been spoken,” he managed after spluttering for a long moment. “But you know what I mean.”

Enjolras shrugged. “There are things I miss,” he said.

“And?” Grantaire prompted.

“And if you keep badgering me instead of letting me work, there’ll definitely be one less thing.”

Grantaire chuckled. “You win,” he said. “I’ll go back to muttering to myself while you ignore me, how about that?”

“Just like old times,” Enjolras murmured, and Grantaire laughed.

“Exactly.”

He did just that, breaking out his tablet to assumedly work on some art, muttering occassionally to himself, and Enjolras was surprised to find that the familiar background murmuring was strangely soothing, enough for him to settle into his own work.

It wasn’t until very late that Enjolras finally had to call it a night, and Grantaire stretched, looking over at the clock. “Jesus, when did it get to be 1 in the morning?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Right around the time I realized I’m supposed to be getting up at seven tomorrow,” Enjolras said through a yawn. “Or, well, later today, I guess.”

“Seven in the morning?” Grantaire repeated, horrified. “Why in the world do you have to be up at the asscrack of dawn? Don’t you realize we’re in the middle of a pandemic and time is meaningless?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Seven is hardly the asscrack of dawn,” he said. “Besides, I’ve got work to do.”

Grantaire shook his head. “No wonder you’re eager to go back to normal, since your life clearly hasn’t changed at all.”

“Goodnight, Grantaire,” Enjolras said pointedly.

“Yeah, yeah, goodnight, you freak. Getting up at seven to do work, I swear to God—”

Enjolras clicked the ‘End Meeting for All’ button, cutting Grantaire off before he could truly launch into a rant, and he hadn’t even closed his computer before his phone buzzed with a text. [From: Grantaire] Rude.

[From: Enjolras] Well, you said you were missing normal, and I figured this was as close as I could get to making Bossuet or Joly drag your drunk ass home.

[From: Grantaire] ...fair.

Enjolras laughed and stood to head to his bedroom, surprised when his phone buzzed again, and he glanced down at it. [From: Grantaire] Want to have another little bit of post-meeting normalcy on Saturday?

Despite himself, Enjolras couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face at the thought. [From: Enjolras] Sounds like a plan.

----------

Sure enough, they spent Saturday night (and well into Sunday morning) the same way, both of them keeping each other company while working on their various projects. And after that, it became routine. Every Les Amis meeting was followed by Grantaire staying on the line to hang out, almost always drinking, only occassionally actually working.

As much as Enjolras hated to admit it, it felt...nice. Like Grantaire had said, a little bit of normalcy, despite everything. In fact, it was one of the few things keeping Enjolras sane as the stay at home order extended another month, dashing his plans for a return to the advocacy work he had so meticulously planned.

Nice was probably too mild a word for the quiet comfort that Enjolras found with Grantaire. He enjoyed having someone to talk to again, someone to bounce ideas off of, just like they had so many nights at the Musain. 

But it was more than just comfort. Enjolras found himself actively looking forward to their time together, and while he’d never pretend to know what Grantaire was thinking, he got the feeling that Grantaire looked forward to it as well. 

It helped that, without the urgency of everything else normally going on, they were able to actually talk, and not just about Enjolras’s latest idea. As much as they had been friends for years, too often their conversations were layered by Grantaire’s cynicism and sarcasm, and Enjolras was glad to really get to see beyond it.

“Where’s the first place you’ll go when this is over?” Grantaire asked one evening, lying on his couch, this time on his stomach, his computer balanced on what Enjolras could only assume was the arm of the couch, given the angle.

“Hmm,” Enjolras said, considering the question before barking a laugh. “You’re gonna make fun of me.”

“I always do,” Grantaire said cheerfully. “And that’s never stopped you before, so spill.”

Enjolras laughed again. “Alright, the first place I’ll probably go is City Hall. I’ve got a bone to pick with the permits office.”

Grantaire snorted a laugh. “God, you’re such a nerd,” he marvelled. “It’s truly incredible.”

“Shut up,” Enjolras said, laughing. “Where are you gonna go?”

“A bar,” Grantaire said promptly, “to get drunk with people instead of by myself.”

Enjolras made a disparaging noise in the back of his throat. “Nope, try again.”

“Excuse me?” Grantaire said, amused. “Are you trying to tell me that my answer was wrong?”

“No, just insincere,” Enjolras told him. “I know you’ve thought about it, or you wouldn’t have brought it up. So c’mon, where you really want to go?”

Grantaire’s smile softened, just slightly. “Honestly? I want to go to the zoo.” Enjolras blinked and Grantaire shrugged. “Don’t ask me why, since it’s not like I went all that frequently before, and it’s probably because of all the stupid videos they’ve been posting online during all of this, but. Yeah. I want to go to the zoo.” He gave Enjolras a withering look. “And now is not the time to launch into your tirade against keeping wild animals at zoos.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything!” Enjolras protested, but he was laughing, and Grantaire glared at him before laughing as well, the conversation turning from there.

If they had nothing else to show for it, Enjolras figured at the very least they’d come out of this whole thing as far better friends than they had started.

And then, finally, finally, there appeared to be good news on the horizon, with contact tracing and a decrease in new cases, and much of the Les Amis meeting that night was spent on the governor’s press conference, and her announcement that the state would move towards reopening in the next few weeks.

“You must be thrilled,” Grantaire said when everyone else had logged off.

“Of course I am,” Enjolras said, ebullient. “Aren’t you? You’re the one who’s wanted things to get back to normal.”

Grantaire made a face. “Yeah, but what does normal even mean anymore?” he mused. “Most folks will still be working from home, and even though we’ll be able to do some smaller protests and such, it’ll still be awhile before we can do any big rallies.”

Enjolras’s smile faded. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but is now really the time to bring it up?” he asked.

Grantaire forced a smile. “Of course, sorry,” he said. “We should celebrate! Wish I’d gotten a bottle of champagne with my last instacart order—”

“You’re using instacart?” Enjolras practically yelped. “After everything we’ve talked about with their exploitative business model?”

Grantaire’s smile widened into something more genuine, and infinitely more smug. “It’s called a joke, Enjolras. Glad to see your sense of humor is returning to normal as well.”

Enjolras made a face before hesitating. “I guess that probably means the end of these late night meetings as well,” he said, and Grantaire looked up, startled.

“What?” he said blankly. “Why?”

Enjolras blinked. “Well, I assume you’ll be going back to work, as will most of our comrades, so we won’t be able to have as frequent meetings, and besides, your social calendar will probably fill up again.”

He said it jokingly, but Grantaire didn’t smile. “My social calendar never stopped me from hanging out at the Musain before.”

“No, I know,” Enjolras started, but Grantaire cut him off.

“If you don’t want me to bother you, just say the word and I’m gone.”

Enjolras stared at him. “What are you—” he started before cutting himself off. “That’s not what I meant,” he said instead, trying not to sound as exasperated as he felt.

Juding by the look on Grantaire’s face, he hadn’t succeeded. “No, I know exactly what you mean,” Grantaire said, taking a larger than normal swig from his bottle of beer. “Once this Stay at Home Order is lifted, everything will go back to how it was.”

“Grantaire—”

“It’s fine,” Grantaire said, forcing a smile that didn’t even remotely meet his eyes. “After all, I’m the one who wanted things to go back to normal, remember?”

“That’s not—” Enjolras started, but Grantaire again cut him off.

“Goodnight, Enjolras.”

He left the Zoom call, and Enjolras stared at his laptop, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

And far more importantly, how he was going to fix it.

----------

Enjolras knocked on Grantaire’s apartment door, breathing in the fresh air for what felt like the first time in longer than he cared to admit.

Even though he had left his apartment during lockdown, it didn’t feel quite the same as it did now, and he smiled slightly as he glanced over his shoulder at the other people milling around in Grantaire’s apartment complex, all of them looking as happy as he was to be outside.

The door opened and Enjolras turned to look at Grantaire, who was staring at him as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Hi,” Enjolras said, wincing when he realized how stupid that sounded. 

“What are you doing here?” Grantaire asked, still staring at him.

Enjolras hesitated. “I don’t want things to return to normal,” he blurted, everything he had carefully prepared going out the window, and Grantaire’s brow furrowed.

“Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear, but what—”

“I don’t just mean, like, socioeconomically or anything,” Enjolras hurried to add. “I mean, um, between you and me. I don’t want that to go back to normal.”

Grantaire’s expression was unreadable. “Then what do you want?”

There were a thousand things that Enjolras had prepped for that exact moment, but he didn’t bother with any of them. Instead, he told Grantaire simply, “This,” before leaning in and kissing him.

Then, just as quickly, he pulled back, eyes wide. “Oh, wait, I’m sorry, affirmative consent, I should—”

Grantaire cut him off by kissing him, something heated and desperate in the press of his lips against Enjolras’s, as if he was afraid they’d lose the moment.

Enjolras wished he had never done or said anything that would make Grantaire feel that way.

When they broke apart this time, Grantaire was smiling, just slightly, almost nervously. “So, uh...dare I ask what this is about?”

“I like you,” Enjolras said, feeling his face flush as he said it. “And apparently, it took me a global pandemic to realize it.”

“Technically, you don’t have to say global and pandemic,” Grantaire said. “It’s implied.”

Enjolras sighed. “Grantaire—”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Grantaire said with a laugh, and Enjolras shook his head before reaching out and drawing Grantaire close, resting his chin on top of Grantaire’s head as he held him.

“I missed you,” Grantaire whispered, so quietly that Enjolras almost didn’t hear him.

“I know,” Enjolras said, kissing Grantaire’s forehead. “And I’m sorry that I was an idiot, and didn’t figure things out earlier.”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “Speaking of,” he said, lacing his fingers with Enjolras’s, “did you come to this realization on your own?”

The corners of Enjolras’s mouth twitched. “Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“No.”

Enjolras snorted and shook his head. “Fine, I had some help. And some sense knocked into me.” He made a face. “Apparently every single one of our friends figured it out before I did.”

“Color me shocked,” Grantaire muttered.

Enjolras ignored that, instead taking a deep breath so that he could say what he actually came to say. “Grantaire,” he said carefully, “one of the few bright parts of this fucking pandemic was spending time online with you. And I’d really like to continue spending time with you. And, well, I’m sorry that I didn’t figure that out until it was almost too late.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Grantaire said, a slow smile stretching across his face. “Better late than never.”

Enjolras laughed, but the sound was mostly lost against Grantaire’s lips as they kissed again, slower this time, Grantaire’s hand resting lightly against Enjolras’s cheek, the other gripping the front of Enjolras’s shirt as if he could somehow pull him closer.

Then, abruptly, he pulled away. “Hang on a second, I thought the first place you were going to go after this ended was City Hall.”

“What can I say, I lied,” Enjolras murmured, ducking his head to kiss Grantaire again, but this time, Grantaire didn’t let him.

“Really?” he asked skeptically.

Enjolras hesitated. “Well, no,” he admitted. “City Hall opened at 8 and I figured you wouldn’t be awake yet, so I went there first and then came here.”

Grantaire laughed loudly. “God, Enj,” he said, pulling Enjolras close and wrapping his arms around him again. “I’d say never change, but clearly we’ve proven that even a pandemic couldn’t change you.”

“Are you sure about that?” Enjolras asked, and Grantaire considered it for only a moment before kissing him again. 

“Ok, fine, maybe it changed you just the right amount.”

“So I’ll take it you don’t want things to go back to normal?” Enjolras asked teasingly.

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Fuck normal,” he said decisively, and Enjolras grinned.

“Technically, that’s what I’ve been saying all along,” he pointed out, and Grantaire cut him off by kissing him once more.

“Shut up,” Grantaire advised, and Enjolras grinned.

After all, who needed normal when they finally had each other?