➳ i am a ghost, just a mirage

[seditiously]

( who chases traces of you )

Comments

[habitually]

Aww, thanks you have a good day too, E.

[ R ruffles his hair softly as he closed his eyes. There’s a click distantly a couple moments later as he exits the apartment. ]

[seditiously]

[Now notably more conscious, Enjolras says his farewells to Feuilly and Bahorel at the end of their community outreach on expanded rent control policies (and got several petition signatures for their troubles!) and makes his way towards the address shining brightly on his screen.

It's strange; if you'd told him a month ago he'd be waking up with Remi in his bed, enjoyably sore, well-kissed, and peppered with love marks, well. He'd probably scoff at the very idea. But here he is, and it's good, even beyond the sex: sitting down at Enjolras' kitchen island eating home-cooked pasta, their knees touching; R making him laugh until his sides hurt (a pleasant change from their usual verbal sparring until the incident where hot coffee went partially up his nose); walking along the Seine after classes, Remi reframing Enjolras' perception of the city's landmarks with his artist's eye.

It's not as if the visions have gone away. As welcome as this newfound physical contact and intimacy is, it still comes with sporadic flashes of The Man, the wasted moments of their relationship and the horrors of their shared end. His voice barely registers in these old memories (Enjolras feels that so much more would be clear if he could only hear him) but he's increasing his knowledge of what he was like. Enjolras can feel his prior disappointment and ire as The Man drinks himself into a stupor at their meetings, distracts Joly and Bousset, and fails to deliver on his promises to be of use. It's clear he was a member of their prior group, but when Enjolras prods Combeferre about any of his own memories of the man, he repeatedly deflects.

By the time Enjolras reaches the destination Remi has sent him, he's certain there has to be some sort of mistake. The restaurant looks like something he parents would frequent, not the scruffy brunette known for finding the most obscure, hole-in-the-wall treasures the city has to offer. He texts Remi, hoping for clarification.]

R? I think you sent me the wrong address.

[habitually]

[ Grantaire is in the employee restroom with a lit, hand-rolled cigarette between his fingers as they try to fix the black necktie that won’t sit right but— it doesn’t hurt that he hasn’t tied one since he interviewed for this job seven months ago. Practice makes perfect and fuck if he’s got time for that—

His ass pocket buzzes and blips as he leaves it hanging loose around his collar glaring at the mirror. The paper goes between his lips as he opens his phone. The cigarette almost falls as he grins around it, tapping away at the screen. ]

did you dress nicely like i asked?

[seditiously]

[Enjolras glances down at his outfit; he thinks his tie might be a little creased from stuffing it into his pocket earlier in the day, but--]

Yeah, good enough. Seriously though, where are you?

[habitually]

[ R pulls on the cigarette and thinks about what he’s gonna see in a second and- hah. Oh he has it bad for this boy. He flicks the used half into a trash can after putting it out. One more look in the mirror has it about as good as it’s going to get even if he’s too nervous too figure out a proper knot. He tousles his hair with spread fingers, grimacing at his reflection. ]

out in a sec i’m in the washroom. You’re in the right place if you used that address? :p

[ Grantaire hesitates with the damned tie, but puts it on the coat hook. The door swings out and R goes toward the front of the restaurant (which was weird) and into the carousel door. He walks out into the Parisian sunset to face his boyfriend and try not to look too out of place without the wait staff blazer on to blend in. ]

[seditiously]

[Enjolras hears the light swish of the door and turns to...oh. He turns slightly pink in the cheeks, eyes lingering a little too long on the silhouette the vest cuts. As he remembers himself, he blinks rapidly a few times then leans in to give Remi a quick peck, bracing his forearm.]

You...you look really nice. But why are we here...? This place has to be— [Oh, how to say this without coming off like an elitist ass...?] —expensive.

[Nailed it.]

oh you’re so lucky you’re pretty, alex

[habitually]

[ R smirks and raises an eyebrow at Enjolras, hands in the pockets of his slacks and trying to look more comfortable. E being an ass helps that endeavor a lot. A passing couple smiles widely and greets Grantaire in elementary French and ask him how he is. ]

Ah! Bonsoir, mis amis. I’m fine aha- but. No, I’m not working tonight! [ He laughs nicely and let’s the American couple tell him how they had to come back for the delicious creme brûlée and coffee. He looks into the building with a balmy smile and then politely waves them away. ] I see I see; well, I believe... Eliot will be your server, okay? Bon appétit!

[ With a small eye roll, Grantaire rounds back to Enjolras with the same smile as when he spoke almost perfect English to the patrons. ] That’s how. Employee discount, eh? Now are you going to a dressed-up plebeian like me escort you to dinner?

[seditiously]

[Enjolras watches R falsely cater to the pleasantries of the tourists with an uncomfortable mix of distaste and arousal at R's...insincere subservience and cordiality? (Best not to unpack that...in an open, public setting at least.)

As the couple finally leaves them again, he colors from embarrassment at Remi's remark, lips sinking into that all-too-familiar frown.]

That's not wh-- [A huff, largely resigned.] Yes, sorry. This is very nice of you, thank you.

lie in your bed, Apollo

[habitually]

[ By all means unpack it later because there’s a long history of R feeling like he should worship you, Enj— ]

You’re welcome. [ R offers his arm with a wave back to the carousel doors and kisses Enjolras’ cheek with a tiny nuzzle. ] And what did you mean, dear?

[seditiously]

[The threat of serious offense gone, Enjolras' scowl only deepens as he takes R's arm.]

You know what I meant. You don't usually go for something just because of the price or image of it, and this is...I don't want you blowing your money or something unnecessary just because you think it'll make me happy.

[Though, if he wanted to just dress up more on the fly, Enjolras is starting to think he could be amenable to seeing that on the regular.]

[habitually]

Well, say I want to blow my money because it makes me moderately happy to watch you puff with surprise and indignation about my audacity?

[ The triumphant smirk has to be implied as Grantaire chats quickly to get them led with two menus to a table for two. Earlier Grantaire had requested it set aside at this time because it was relatively far in the back of the restaurant, and against a wall for privacy. R moves to lead Enjolras with his fingers on his, which successfully makes it easy to ignore any snide remarks because there is a ringing in his ears.

The couple arrived at a white tablecloth set daintily. There is a candle flickering, and fragrant lavender, baby’s breath and a single white rose. A bucket of champagne lies in an ice bucket. At each small plate lies a napkin and silverware, including chilled salad forks. ]

[seditiously]

[Enjolras tries to come up with a counterargument that doesn’t involve him feeding into Remi’s exact intentions and comes up frustratingly empty.]

I’m just trying to be considerate...

[Enjolras lets himself be led, sulking all the way to the back of the restaurant until he finally see the small nook Remi has carved out for them. He stops short when the get to the table, eyes going soft and lips curling back up into a small smile.]

...You’re ridiculous.

[habitually]

See? That? That’s what I did it for. You don’t smile enough for my ideal happiness. It’s all to be selfish, trust me.

[ The hostess places their menus in the setting in such a way that nothing looks out of place and it’s rather like they were always meant to be part of the set up. Grantaire smiles as he pulls out one of the two elaborate, wooden chairs to expose a fancy cushion. ]

Can I help you take a seat, sir?

[seditiously]

Uh-huh. Clearly.

[While Remi's quips do earn him an eye roll, Enjolras smiles stays as he takes his seat. Minus the R sliding his chair into place, most of it comes as muscle memory; his posture straightens in the chair as he settles and places the cloth napkin in his lap.]

You do this for all the guests, huh?

[habitually]

[ The mannerisms don't escape R’s notice and he stifles a snort as he mimics the other taking his seat and folding the napkin into his lap. There’s an eyebrow up as he resists putting his elbow on the table and sips the ice water instead. ]

Do what, now? I don’t usually eat with them, no. First time, actually.

[seditiously]

[Enjolras scrunches his eyebrows and gives him a look. Still deciding if Remi's deflections are charming or not.]

No, you just chat them up. You seemed like a favorite outside earlier.

[habitually]

I’m a server, E. My job is to be charming and make them want to come back— which is exemplified by my new friends the Porters who saw me five days ago.

[ He smiles and pops the cork off of the champagne, gesturing for Enjolras’ flute with a repressed smile at a personal joke. He grimaces as he pours the sparkling liquid into the glass expertly. ]

...and Americans frequently forget or ignore that they aren’t required to tip me. But some good repeat customers will leave a little too. Your crowd is wonderfully generous in exchange for niceties.

[seditiously]

And is that what you’re doing now, being charming? I should warn you, I’m a third date sort of man.

[A rare attempt as being humorous? Shock of shocks.

Enjolras watches as Remi pops the cork off in a fluid, clearly well-practiced manner, swallowing hard as he stares transfixed at the brunette pouring his drink (There’s a far more modern, less painful flashback here, of well-toned forearms griping his thighs, a heavy breath near his cheek.)]

...You really have done this before. [He sounds openly impressed, like this whole thing had been assumed a joke at his expense up to this point.] ...Wait, what do you mean my crowd?

oof

[habitually]

[ Grantaire laughs openly now. God, when did he last do something fun...? Well. Besides bedroom fun. Different kind. This date was going better than the first, he decided. ]

By all means, if this isn’t charming, I know you’ll tell me. You don’t hold opinions in very well— which isn’t usually a rich people thing is it? Or maybe that’s why you like the laborers and merchants, we’re not as good at being polite. You fit right in.

[ He sips the champagne with a smile and a lingering look at Enjolras. Boy could this man reverse the charm. ] Well, sort of.

[seditiously]

[Enjolras’ smile falters, cocking his head slightly back like he’s unsure quite what he’s hearing.]

I like “laborers and merchants,” or whatever you want to call everyday people, because they’re not completely disconnected to the world around them. Money can blind people to basic humanity, and the longer you’re around it the worse it gets. Yes, I grew up comfortable, but are you saying I’m “slumming it” in some way...?

[habitually]

[ R scoffs in reply, draining half the flute of champagne with a rather refined manner and sucking his teeth. ]

I would never use the word “slumming it,” but you looked genuinely amazed I could pop open a bottle without letting it fly into someone’s head.

[ He laughs sourly, remembering that it... did happen at one point. That was a good first week. ]

You’re not an “everyday” person. Don’t take it as an insult, either, and let me finish before you counter me. Yes I know you want to. I also know I don’t deserve you for even— Oh. Hey, Mel. Been a while.

[ The previously ready-to-dig in brunette clears his throat and smiles, ordering an appetizer for them to split after making sure it’s okay with E and the sever walks back the way she came, ponytail bobbing. ]

[seditiously]

[Enjolras waits until Remi’s coworker departs to respond in kind, scoffing with indignation.]

I wasn’t trying to comment on your job, not that there’s anything even lesser about being in the service industry; I was just surprised that—[He cuts short, taking a moment to clear his throat in embarrassment.] ...that you could do that with such easy precision. It was very attractive.

[habitually]

[ Grantaire’s continuation of his explanation of why E should probably go back to his money world dies when he realized where Enjolras was going with that. The flush in his cheeks isn’t from the champagne, but he looks past Enjolras out the window as he finishes the glass quickly. ]

Oh. Even a broken clock is right once or twice a day, I guess.

[ He pours himself more champagne with a sigh. The necked bottle in his hand makes him flinch as he gets déjà vu from the deprecation and imagery. Maybe reincarnation did him fuck all good, if he’s still the same degenerate who can’t appreciate what he’s been given. ]

I see why you wondered why I was uncharacteristically charming before, huh?

[seditiously]

[Enjolras takes a sip of his champagne, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He doesn't ever seem to know what to do when Remi is like this, flitting between argumentative and self-deprecating.]

I'm just not used to you...catering to people's self-image like that? You always seem ready to challenge convention, not cater to other's idealism of what the world is like. [And yes, he does recognize the irony of what he's saying.] But I understand the economic realities of it.

[habitually]

Thats a nice way of admitting you don’t know everything about me.

[ R smiles wryly and drinks more champagne, his lips drawn into a line as he looks back at Enjolras. He clears his throat and tries to turn it back into a date with what he hopes comes off with less bite. ]

Which Rémi do you prefer, then?