Archive of Our Own ^beta

The world seemed well to Julian Enjolras that Friday evening as he prepared to walk home,. from the flower shop. Fragranced flowers provided much appreciated air in a room of antiques that would otherwise have been stuffy. It was a nice job, well suited to him, a day of calmness at the end of the week. Most schools give you a week a work experience in fourth year, but his allowed to take off every Friday and try a variety of jobs, he knew he should switch jobs at this point but he enjoyed the company and customers here too much. Also he gets to make a flower crown to wear each day.

“You’ll have company next week”, Musichetta told him as she finished a bridal bouquet.

“Oh ya?”, Enjolras said distractedly, he didn’t mind training a new kid.

“Ya.” She shrugged, “He goes to your school? Rene?”

He tensed, cautiously, “René Grantaire?”

“The very same,” Musichetta seemed pleased they knew each other. Enjolras just groaned, he wouldn’t get anything done next week.

_

So the fateful Friday rolled around to find a grumpy Enjolras walking to work in the rain, armed with a good book and money for hot chocolate. The flower shop wouldn’t open till half nine, but yet here he was in town at half eight staring at a soaking Grantaire leaning against the exterior of an office building.

“Come on”, Enjolras grumbled, yanking the soaking artist inside the nearest coffee shop, only addressing him to see if he’d like marshmallows in his hot chocolate and sitting him down at a table. After ordering at the counter, where the barista arched an eyebrow suggestively and looked at Grantaire. "Shut up", Enj muttered at the man he saw every Friday but always forgot the name of, and he joined Grantaire and waited for their drinks.

“Why the fuck are you in town so early?”, Enj demanded.

“I could ask you the same”, Grantaire retorted, then sighed at the look he received. “Only bus that could take me was at school time.”

They both just sat and drank their hot chocolate for a while after (well Enjolras had tea because he didn’t have enough money to buy two hot chocolates and get lunch later) before awkwardly discussing what classes they took and checking their phones. They were both glad when it was half nine and the shop opened.

Enjolras walked in first announcing their presence before showing Grantaire where he was to put his things. By the time they had taken off their coats Jehan had arrived in the door, asking for coffee orders.

“It’s alright Grantaire and I just had something.”

Jehan grinned knowingly but said nothing and fetched drinks for themself and Musichetta. Enjolras turned back to Grantaire, “We shall be prepping flowers”.

A voice from the main shop called, “Ye shall be unboxing Christmas stock.”

"We shall be doing that", Enjolras conceited.

Grantaire learned quickly, seemingly unwilling to ask questions but Enjolras was good at guessing what he needed to know by what he was looking at intently and bewilderingly. They formed a pattern, Grantaire would open and unpack boxes, then Enjolras would find space in the back room for them. After a while he came out to find Grantaire inside the large box he had just unpacked, kneeling in it as he cut opened the bottom and stuck his head out. Enjolras smiled despite himself.

Once all the Christmas stock was put away, for a few weeks, they prepared squares of cello for the season. In the small flower shop they would need about a thousand cut a folded for the weeks of Christmas. Even at that they would run out of wrap.

But more distressingly it meant they were facing two walls in the same corner cutting wrap which lead to Grantaire (in way which felt entirely intentional, the bloody flirt) pushing his ass against Enjolras’, and dear lord, Enjolras was having a hard time dealing with those thick thighs and hips without having it all rubbed against him. He was also thoroughly unimpressed by Grantaire’s work conduct, customers could see them for Christ's sake! Enjolras professional and wasn’t about to spin around shouting, ”Please stop grinding against me in those sinful black jeans!”

Alas, Grantaire continued cutting and folding squares of patterned wrap, as though blissfully unaware.

“I’m going to check the floor and sweep”, Enjolras announced, wanting to snatch the beanie off Grantaire head at the way he smirked.

“Grab me some more gip while you're there”, Jehan requested, wrapping a bouquet in pink cello. The colors in it were delicate, a ferny looking leaf, gip, and pink tinted roses. Enjolras took a moment to admire the flowers, his eyes adjusting to seeing things other that his scissors and cello.

“My brain has gone cross eyed.” Enjolras declared,”All I have done is stare at that corner and answer phones for the last hour.”

Jehan smiled,”Cross eyed?”

Enjolras confirmed his brain was indeed cross eyed, before checking the “floor”, where the flowers are displayed, for dead flowers or petals. He also moved flowers into the same tall buckets instead of having empty buckets. The problem now was that he had a great view of Grantaire form here, and now he couldn't blame Grantaire because he could easily look away. Well, in theory. He grabbed the brush and swept plants of the ground from the work area and display areas of the shop. Grantaire came over and swept the piles into the bin, smiling kindly and winking. Enjolras looked down at his brush.

“Go on your lunch break and when you're back could the two of ye move the displays around?”, Musichetta inquired, more of an order really.

Grantaire looked at Enjolras who nodded and they left.

“I’ll by you lunch seeing as you got me hot chocolate?”, Grantaire suggested.

“Sure, there’s a Ramen around the corner that I can never finish by myself?” Grantaire visibly perked up at the mention of Ramen so on they went. The best thing about Ramen is not having to chose so they just got the days six euro deal, some sort of Thai curry to split and two ice cream cones. The talked about their overlapping friend groups, and the misfortunes of them (read: of Bossuet). But the conversation turned harsh when Enjolras had his ice cream making skills dissed.

“Just you watch.” Enjolras announced, taking his cone to the machine and making his ice cream slowly, gradually forming the near perfect swirls. “Boom. Beat that.”

Grantaire scoffed unimpressed, full of confidence as he pulled down the lever to make his ice cream too fast, resulting in a failed thin ice cream. Shrugged, admitted defeat and ate it.

Enjolras returned to the shop feeling triumphant, recounting the tail, and asked Musichetta where she wanted everything.

“We got it”, Enjolras told her, thinking a moment then explaining the Grantaire the order they’d be moving display units. Grantaire nodded and got to it, moving into position on one side of a unit and lifting once Enjolras was on the other. And so things got moved, expensive things were repeatedly moved on and off of cabinets, and Musichetta repeating changed her mind on where thing should go but the result was gorgeous. And so was Grantaire, he proved himself to be stronger than Enjolras by saving him from dropping things on himself and grabbing the candelabras midair easily. Grantaire had an easy laugh in these situations, and an annoyingly fond smile. Enjolras smiled back.

Enjolras then prepared a €15 basket for wandering customers to grab quickly, all oranges and reds, and helping Grantaire with his own. They were talking easily now, about music, Grantaire hips brushing against his own. Enjolras focused on his enthusiastic telling of Hamilton, but when Grantaire began to tell him about his favourite metal bands and somehow was standing even closer to him, leaning over his shoulder to see what Enjolras was doing, and Enjolras could feel his jaw moving by his neck and his hips (his always fucking moving hips, no matter what he was doing! Why can’t he stand still!) brushing his own and his ass, Enjolras had to excuse himself to the bathroom.

Once the door was closed and locked securely behind his back, he let out a sigh of relief, glad to be a trans man since if he had a dick, everyone would know about it right now. He slipped a hand between his legs, palming at himself, feeling immediate relief. He mentally cursed Grantaire and that fucking bed hair and bottom heavy figure in skinny jeans for doing this to him. At work. But still his hand was between his legs, letting his eyes close. He did this for less than a minute, just enough to take the edge of from what Grantaire had done to him. He washed his hands, and gave himself a once over, fixing his chest in his binder and going back out into the shop.

He smiled at what he saw, Grantaire and Musichetta were talking passionately about metal, and Grantaire was starting up YouTube to find a song to put on. Enjolras contented himself to listening to the two of them. He found out Musichetta was in a band with her boyfriends, which Grantaire was adorably excited about. Musichetta seemed to know all the bands Grantaire talked about and Enjolras felt a pang in his chest at Grantaire’s joy.

“Here we go!”, Grantaire exclaimed, clicking past an ad onto a video, “This is what I was telling you about.”

Enjolras prepared himself for some sort of angry, loud, brash music, but something still enjoyable, but instead he was treated to a soft female voice.

“...I hate you, I love you
I hate that I love you…”

Grantaire smiled sheepishly and Musichetta exclaimed that she did know this one, now she heard it and then hummed along.

“...Don’t want to, but I can’t put
Nobody else above you..”

Enjolras let the lyrics engulf him and found, in a way that rarely happens when listening to a song the first time, how much the meaning affected him and Grantaire too it seemed. Then the moment passed and Jehan exclaimed that they absolutely needed to watch the video for Downtown. which they all agreed was amazing and decided to start a scooter gang.

Enjolras look at Jehan,”You, you my friend deserve a lilac scooter with sunflowers.”

“In the style of Van Gogh!” Grantaire interjected.

“In the style of Van Gogh.” Enjolras agreed, solemnly.

Jehan scoffed.

“Fuck that shit. I want black with flames and skulls. Like the mechanisms inside the casing but instead of metal, painted like bones.”

Grantaire considered Jehan for a moment. “Ya, ya that’d be cool.”

A loud alert rang through the shop making everyone jump and Grantaire pull out his phone, silencing the alarm.

“Shit is that the time, I gotta go, see ya next week!”, he rushed gathering up his things and winking a Enjolras.

“I’ll see you on Monday.”

Enjolras smiled at him, satisfied that he would be. After all, maybe on Monday their overlapping friend groups should just join.