Work Text:
„Don’t you just love Christmas?“ sighs Courfeyrac happily next to him.
“What part exactly? The overcrowded places or the increased consumerism in addition to the exploitation of the workers?” retorts Enjolras.
“No reason to be so grumpy my handsome friend. I for one think it’s an absolutely lovely day,” says Courfeyrac while stripping out of his apron. And Enjolras isn’t surprised. It’s so much easier to have a positive perspective on things when you’ve already suffered through your six hour shift and have a date with your boyfriend to look forward to.
“Before I forget it, Éponine has switched her shifts. Her brother’s got a cold.”
“Tell me it’s not Marius.” It’s not that he doesn’t like Marius. It’s just that he had looked forward to a shift spent in silence and shared disdain over having to work at a coffee shop during Christmas time together with Éponine. They aren’t exactly friends but she’s one of his only co-workers that shares his distaste for working in customer service and is open about her hatred for having to smile for six hours straight. Marius on the other hand is unironically enjoying the café’s Christmas Spotify playlist that consists of a total of 15 songs and he practically never shuts up about his fiancée Cosette.
Courfeyrac giggles softly and pats Enjolras encouragingly on the back. “You really need to cut the kid some slack. He’s not that bad. But no, it’s Grantaire.”
Enjolras sighs in relief. Grantaire may be riddled with ADHD and has a habit of annoying Enjolras into unconsciousness but he’s not too bad to work with. At least he’s never bored when the other man is around. They don’t end up working the same shift too often due to their differing uni schedules. While Enjolras prefers to work the evening shift, Grantaire mostly ends up dealing with the early risers.
Courfeyrac gives him one last smile “See ya later.”
“Enjoy your date.”
“Oh, I will.” The other man winks and Enjolras can barely suppress a shudder. He really hopes that they remember to retreat into Combeferre’s room before he comes home. He has seen truly disturbing stuff ever since Courfeyrac has started dating his roommate.
It had been a quiet day so far and Enjolras doesn’t really expect a lot of customers for the rest of the night. He starts putting the used cups into the dishwasher and cleans some of the tables while deliberately trying to ignore his boss’s playlist. He likes Monsieur Valjean, he really does, but if he has to listen to Asher Angel’s Snow Globe Wonderland one more time, he might have an aneurysm.
“If that isn’t my favourite co-worker!” rings a chipper voice through the vacant café.
“Grantaire,” he replies flatly.
“Have you missed me?”
“Sure. I was barely able to handle this place on my own.”
“I can imagine,” Grantaire huffs while looking around. There’s only one other person around after all. A guy that was already there even before Enjolras came in and has been looking at his laptop with a panicked expression for the last 30 minutes.
Grantaire pulls his apron over his head and let’s his eyes wander over to Enjolras “Man, I hate working evening shifts”.
The never ending loop of Christmas music is starting off from the beginning once more. Enjolras counts this as the seventh time The Jackson 5’s Someday at Christmas has played that day and he is sure he is stuck in purgatory. Grantaire doesn’t seem to mind though if the way he’s twirling around while mopping the floor is any indication to go by. The other man hums along quietly and only comes to a stop when he notices Enjolras staring.
“What? Loosen up a bit, Apollo. It’s Christmas after all,” the other man says with a wink.
“Yeah, let’s see if you’re still so fond of this goddamn song by the end of your shift.”
“You’re not fond of Christmas?”
“Not really, especially not if it’s shoved down my throat in a never ending loop,” Enjolras sighs while trying to soothe his upcoming headache by rubbing his temples.
“Oh come on,” Grantaire says, blatantly ignoring Enjolras’ discontent. “There has to be something you like about Christmas.”
“Well,” Enjolras pauses, thinking the other man’s question over. He is right, all things considered, Enjolras doesn’t hate Christmas. He understands people’s excitement over a time filled with warmth and cosiness, cookies and hot chocolate and the chance to see the people you care for most in the world. The problem is just that while in theory Christmas time sounds lovely, more often than not it ends in an absolute disaster. Everyone’s stressed while gift shopping and the pressure of having to uphold annual traditions takes the fun out of all of them. No, Enjolras doesn’t hate Christmas, he hates the expectations everyone holds for the most wonderful time of the year.
“I guess it’s quite nice to see my family,” he decides to answer instead.
“Ugh…booooring,” Grantaire exclaims in a dramatic fashion.
“Excuse me?”
“That’s such a fucking generic answer. Don’t give me your Saint Enjolras act. Give me the honest and rotten truth.”
“I doubt there is such a thing as a rotten Christmas truth,” Enjolras answers blank faced.
“You’re making this so much harder than it has to be. All right, what about sleigh rides for example. Surely, there’s nothing you could have against sleigh rides?”
“You’ve looked outside the window right?” Enjolras asks perplexed. “We haven’t had a white Christmas in at least five years. And things won’t change if we don’t do something about the climate change. I mean honestly-“
“Okay, okay, I get it,” interrupts Grantaire with a laugh. “No sleigh rides then. What about Christmas trees? The smell. The atmosphere. That’s nice, right?”
“I wouldn’t know. We never really had one. My mom thinks it’s barbaric to chop down a tree just to put it up for a few weeks.”
Where there had previously been laughter, Grantaire now simply stares at Enjolras as if he’d grown a second head. “Yeah, you know what?” he eventually says. “I’m not even going to comment on that one. What about scented candles then, huh?”
Grantaire looks almost desperate at this point and Enjolras would feel bad for crashing his hopes if it wasn’t so damn funny.
“Sorry to disappoint,” Enjolras says while delightfully taking in the sight of how Grantaire’s shoulders sag. “But I get horrible headaches from scented candles.”
“It’s decided,” Grantaire sighs in mock-seriousness. “You’re the Grinch. Even I can’t change that.”
“Don’t worry about it. You aren’t the first to try and fail.”
“Alright,” Grantaire says with a newfound vigour, his prior desperation already forgotten. “If there’s one thing I know you’ll love, it’s Christmas-themed coffee. I’ve seen the amount of sugar you pour into your coffee and considering we’ve got absolutely no customers I think I can make some time to make you one.”
And off he is to expertly work the coffee machine. There’s one thing Enjolras would never admit to out loud, but Grantaire is the absolute best at making coffee. Enjolras doesn’t know how that’s possible, they have been working at the coffee shop for roughly the same amount of time after all, but for some reason Enjolras never manages to make his coffee taste quiet as good as Grantaire seems to be able to. Which is why he doesn’t even think about protesting Grantaire making him a cup of – which Enjolras can only describe as- heaven.
“Here you go. Diabetes in a cup for Apollo,” says Grantaire with a smile while handing him his cup. Enjolras doesn’t even pretend to be annoyed with the nickname. He’s too focused on the delicious smell of cinnamon already wafting from the cup. Their fingers brush as Enjolras makes a move to reach for his coffee and he feels a pleasant tingle go up is arm.
“Thank you.” Enjolras hums in content while taking the first cautious sip. It’s warm and rich and has just the appropriate amount of sweetness. It’s perfection.
Enjolras is already taking another sip and is only then coming out of his caffeine induced trance. When Enjolras meets Grantaire’s eyes again, he notices the other man blatantly staring at him, a faint blush visible on his cheeks. Enjolras doesn’t think it is particularly warm inside the café but maybe Grantaire just runs hot naturally.
“You’ve got….uh,” Grantaire stammers while making a vague hand gesture. Enjolras tilts his head to the side in question when Grantaire suddenly takes a step towards him. “Wait, let me just,” Grantaire starts and reaches up towards his face before quickly swiping his index finger over Enjolras’ nose tip.
“Whipped cream,” Grantaire mumbles sheepishly. Enjolras looks up at him and now it’s his turn to blush. Have Grantaire’s eyes always had these gold specks in them? And why does he keep looking at him like that? And why does it feel like Enjolras’ heart is about to jump out of his chest?
They stand for what feels like hours, just staring at each other and Enjolras could swear Grantaire has inched closer just so much that it has become noticeable, when they’re suddenly interrupted by an awkward cough.
Enjolras jumps slightly, pouring a little of the coffee he had apparently still been holding onto over himself. Huh. Good thing he was wearing an apron.
Enjolras’ head whips to the side and his eyes land on the cause of the interruption of their…staring match? He’s not so sure himself and yeah, he already knows he’s going to revisit this particular moment a lot in the following days. But for now he tries to focus on the customer in front of them. It’s the guy that has been studying in the corner of the room for who knows how long. Enjolras had almost forgotten he was there at all.
The guy looks unsure of himself and like he already regrets interrupting their…whatever.
“Yeah?” Grantaire asks rather harshly after the silence stretches out for too long. And it’s only then that Enjolras notices that they still stand far too close together for it to be considered professional. He takes a step back and brings his cup up to his face for an awkward sip.
“I was wondering if I could get another caramel macchiato,” the guy sounds downright scared and Enjolras winces in sympathy. As if the situation isn’t uncomfortable enough already, Grantaire’s expression certainly doesn’t soothe their customer’s worries. Enjolras has never seen his co-worker look so annoyed. Even during morning shifts while dealing with sleep deprived college students and stressed business men, Grantaire always manages to maintain a grin and a chipper attitude.
Grantaire quickly goes to work while Enjolras handles the cash register.
“Here you go,” says Grantaire, now sounding a lot more like his usual self.
“Thanks,” the man replies before quickly grabbing his drink and practically fleeing back to his laptop.
“Well, I should…” starts Enjolras and gestures vaguely to the tables in the back of the café.
Grantaire nods eagerly. “Yeah, sure, absolutely. I also have to…ehm,” stammer Grantaire and adds some kind of hand gesture of his own.
“Right, yeah, then I’ll just-“ says Enjolras and he already hates himself for opening his mouth at all. Why doesn't he just go?
“Yeah, me…me too. Right, yeah,” Grantaire answers and looks more pained with every word that is slipping from his mouth.
Enjolras quickly turns around, grabs his rag and marches off towards the back tables. Halfway through the room however, he comes to a stop, turns once again and grabs the almost forgotten cup before he gets back to work. There’s no point in wasting a perfectly good coffee after all.
Enjolras is vigorously scrubbing down the tables. He’s using a lot more force than strictly necessary but he tries his hardest to distract himself from the moment he just shared with Grantaire. It was weird, right? There had been some kind of tension between them that he couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t an angry kind of tension either. No, it had felt almost nice.
Now, Enjolras isn’t completely oblivious. Sure, he has trouble on picking up social cues from time to time and if his friends don’t outright tell him how they feel, he has a hard time figuring out their emotions. But even he can’t deny the fact that what he had just felt between him and Grantaire had come close to something like attraction.
It’s not like the thought had never crossed his mind before. Grantaire is handsome in an unconventional, ruffled sort of way, with his wild curls and the tattoos marking the skin of his arms. His shoulders are broad from years of boxing and his fingers are usually stained with paint or marker depending on whatever project he is working on in the moment. Enjolras has found his eyes lingering on them numerous times before. And even when Enjolras looks past Grantaire’s more than appealing physique, he’s also kind of a really great guy in on itself. He cares about his friends deeply and even strangers can’t resist his charm. Enjolras is sure there is not a single person Grantaire could not coax a laugh out of. He’s hard-working and passionate about what he does even if he probably wouldn’t agree. Grantaire constantly tries to downplay what he does but Enjolras has seen his work before and he is undoubtedly talented.
And sure, sometimes Grantaire has a way to annoy Enjolras to the point that he wants to do nothing but bang his head against the next best wall. And they once ended up in a screaming match so intense that it caused all of their customers to leave the café in a nervous hurry. And yes, Enjolras wanted to shout at him again after Grantaire started giggling uncontrollably once Monsieur Valjean was done giving them a firm scolding. But the thing is, he hadn’t. He was about to. He already had an entire monologue ready to spout at Grantaire about how absolutely unprofessional their behaviour had been and how they could have lost their jobs, did he even realize that? But one look at Grantaire, laughing joyfully, eyes squeezed shut and his nose scrunched up in delight and Enjolras had stated laughing right along with him. It was ridiculous and it was unprofessional but something in their dynamic had changed irreversibly that day and their relationship had improved steadily from there on out.
Now, whenever Enjolras feels annoyance directed towards Grantaire, it is usually also accompanied by an undeniable fondness for the other man. A fondness that might have evolved, growing into something entirely different over the course of the last few months without him even noticing.
Enjolras comes to a full-on stop. His hand that had still been occupied with scrubbing the same spot he’s been occupied with for the las ten minutes, stills immediately when it finally hits him.
Oh.
Oh.
He has a crush on Grantaire.
How did he not realize that? How did he not know he was crushing on Grantaire? He really doesn’t think that such a life changing even should have been able to slip his mind that easily. He-
“Hey Apollo?” Enjolras hears Grantaire ask through his panic.
And no. No no no no no no. Absolutely not. He can’t possibly interact with Grantaire and talk about irrelevant things like inventory or whatever the hell it is Grantaire need to talk to him about, when he just had the realization of a life time. But somehow his body and mind are not cooperating right now and so he feels himself turn around and ask “What’s up?” And alright, that wasn’t bad. Not bad at all. Now he just had to make it through the rest of his shift before he could go home and make up a plan on how to deal with human emotion.
“Well,” Grantaire says while making his way closer to Enjolras. He looks nervous and he doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Instead Grantaire’s gaze seems to be locked onto something past Enjolras’ shoulder.
“Look,” Grantaire starts again and he starts fidgeting with the ring on his thumb. Twisting it back and forth, back and forth. Enjolras can’t take his eyes away from it. “I, okay. Wait, let me start over. I want to tell you something. And I didn’t think I ever would, to be fully honest, but my therapist always says that I shouldn’t assume other people’s feelings and that I shouldn’t let my self-deprecating thoughts keep me from at least trying to go after what I want. So, I want to tell you because I think we had a moment earlier and maybe I just made that up in my head because I wanted it to be there and you probably don’t even know what I’m talking about and you’ll end up hating me and working together will becoming super fucking awkward and-“
“Grantraire,” Enjolras interrupts and places a hand on where Grantaire is still fiddling with his ring. Enjolras is confused and quite overwhelmed with the flood of words he was just hit with but most of all he feels concern because he never wants Grantaire to think there’s anything he could say that would make Enjolras dislike him. “I don’t hate you.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s good. Make this a little easier, I think,” Grantaire lets out a laugh that is all nerves. “Okay, so, I want to tell you because you deserve to know. And because today gave me a little bit of hope I guess. Hope that I might not be the only one feeling this. Anyway, what I want to say is this: Enjolras, I really li-“
“Hey you guys, look,” interrupts no other than their one and only customer and while Enjolras hadn’t fully understood Grantaire’s reaction to the earlier interruption, he does now. Because he absolutely wants to strangle this guy. Does this man not see that Grantaire was just about to say something?
Enjolras tries to scrape together every last bit of professionalism he has left inside of him and turns to the man he hopes he’ll never have to see again once this day is over. “Yes?” he asks and it sounds scathing even to his own ears. The joyful grin on the other man’s face dims a bit and he holds up a shaky hand to point at something above their heads. “There’s a mistletoe,” he says and sounds like he regrets ever coming over to them. He immediately hurries back to his seat and only then does Enjolras allow himself to look up.
And would you look at that. There is indeed a mistletoe dangling from the ceiling. Monsieur Valjean had made his employees put them up all around the café. Enjolras had almost forgotten they were there at all.
“Oh,” Granatire breathes out in surprise before he locks eyes with Enjolras. “I, we don’t have to, I mean, well-“ he stammers helplessly and it’s enough for Enjolras to work out how Grantaire would have ended his earlier sentence if it wasn’t for the rather rude interruption.
“Well, it’s tradition, right? If I remember correctly you did try to find out which one was my favourite, didn’t you?” Enjolras asks and Grantaire looks at him like he just hung the moon. Grantaire nods shakily and it’s enough for Enjolras to close the gap and press his lips to Grantaire’s. Forgotten is his short-lived panic, his anxiety over the newfound realization of a crush. All that exists in this moment is Grantaire. The smell of his aftershave. The feel of is shoulders beneath Enjolras’ hands and the taste of coffee on his lips. Enjolras has to lift himself on his toes a bit to comfortably kiss the other man but he can’t even find it in himself to care because maybe this is what people mean when they talk about Christmas miracles. The kiss is soft and slow and so, so wonderful. Once they’ve fully settled into it, once they’ve become comfortable with the lips of the other on their own, Enjolras allows his hands to move upwards into the soft curls he’s been dying to touch for ages. Grantaire becoming more daring himself, wraps his arms around Enjolras’ waist and draws him in even further. And oh, Enjolras likes that a lot. He wouldn’t mind staying like that for the rest of eternity if he had a say in it.
Eventually, however, Grantaire draws back. If it’s because of their current whereabouts or because he needs to take a breath of air, Enjolras doesn’t know and he also doesn’t care because while Grantaire broke their kiss, he does not leave their embrace. Grantaire rests his forehead against Enjolras’ and it’s so perfect Enjolras can’t help the giddy smile that spreads across his face.
“Definitely my new favourite Christmas tradition,” Enjolras murmurs, afraid to break the content little bubble they created for themselves.
“Finally something we agree on,” Grantaire says before he leans back, takes Enjolras’s face between his palms and presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. “In case it wasn’t clear already, but what I’ve been trying to say earlier is that I really, really, like you Enj,” Enjolras’ heart skips a beat with Grantaire’s use of the nickname. Yes, he really could get used to this. “I’m crazy about you really. Have been since the first time I’ve laid eyes on you.” Grantaire brushes a strand of hair behind Enjolras’ ear and lets his fingers linger just above his cheekbone. Enjolras closes his eyes briefly, allows himself to soak in the touch before he pecks Grantaire’s lips sweetly. Because he’s allowed to do this now and isn’t that a turn of events.
“I like you too just if you were wondering.”
Grantaire looks at him in faux-surprise. “No, really? I would have never guessed. I thought this was the Apollo friendship special. You’re telling me you’re not smooching your friends at any possible moment? Have you seen Combeferre?”
Enjolras laughs and swats Grantaire on his arm playfully. “God, shut up. And go back to work. We’re still on the clock.”
“Oh yeah,” agrees Grantaire sarcastically. “A place as busy as this won’t run itself.” He adds a cheeky wink for good measure before going back behind the counter. Enjolras picks up his forgotten rug and continues wiping down the rest of the tables with a lot less force but a lot more upbeat energy. He doesn’t even mind the relentless crooning of Frank Sinatra making his way through Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. He even finds himself humming along to the tune.
It’s fifteen minutes before closing when they’re once again approached by The Guy™. Enjolras has since joined Grantaire behind the counter and is currently stacking clean cups to make the life of whoever is going to be stuck with tomorrow’s morning shift easier. Enjolras looks up expectantly and now that the man isn’t interrupting life changing moments between him and Grantaire his gaze is even void of any kind of disdain.
The guy – he really should ask for his name at this point – takes out his wallet, pulls a twenty euro bill from it and promptly puts it into the tip jar next to the cash register.
“Merry Christmas guys. You’re a cute couple by the way. Terrifying, but cute.” He shoots them a blinding smile before he quickly turns around leaves the café.
Grantaire and Enjolras turn towards each other, wearing similar looks of puzzlement on their faces.
“What a weirdo,” Grantaire says eventually.
“Mmh,” hums Enjolras in agreement.
“Well we do have to thank him though because he just sponsored our first date. Where do you want me to take you? To the movies? Grabbing food? Or maybe a Christmas related activity now that you’re so fond of certain traditions?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and Enjolras can’t quite suppress a snort of amusement.
He puts down the cup he was holding and makes his way over to Grantaire. Enjolras wraps his arms around the other man and lets his head rest against Grantaire’s chest. Grantaire is quick to return the embrace and presses a soft kiss to Enjolras’ head. They start swaying back and forth eventually, Grantaire softly humming along to Santa Baby, when Enjolras says, “Surprise me.”