This fic is inspired by the McFly song Room On the Third Floor, which is a truly lovely song 3
As always, reviews are much appreciated :D
Room On the Third Floor
It was late by the time Enjolras arrived at the hotel, and even later by the time he'd got the key for a room. It had been a long day, and an even longer week, and he all he wanted to do was lie down and just sleep.
The lift was broken, of course, and his allocated room was on the third floor, so by the time he'd climbed up the stairs- with his suitcase and his rucksack and his guitar and his laptop- he was bone-tired and weary. But he couldn't go to sleep yet, he wouldn't be able to... So he dumped his stuff on the floor, and fished his phone out of his bag.
He slumped down on the bed, which sagged under his weight, and dialled a number that he knew from heart. Grantaire picked up on the fourth ring. "Hello?" he slurred, voice thick with sleep.
"Grantaire?" Enjolras asked, confused. "Were you asleep?"
Grantaire let out a weary chuckle. "I don't know, Apollo, why would I be asleep at 4 in the morning?"
Enjolras groaned. "Shit, time zones, I'm so sorry!"
Grantaire laughed. "Don't worry about it, Apollo. Your dulcet tones are a welcome wake-up call."
Enjolras frowned. "But you'll be tired tomorrow! I should go..."
Grantaire interrupted him. "Don't be daft, Enjolras. I'm awake now, and I don't have much on tomorrow anyway."
They sat in peaceful silence for a while, just listening to each other's breathing. Enjolras closed his eyes, relishing the quiet. He could smell the smoke from next door coming through his half open window, but couldn't be bothered moving to close it.
"So what's up?" Grantaire asked, breaking the tranquillity, and Enjolras heard a rustle of blankets, presumably as he sat up in bed.
Enjolras could picture it. Grantaire always wore the same old worn t-shirt to bed, with a pair of tatty boxers, and at that moment, Enjolras wanted nothing more than to be there, in their cosy bed, wrapped around him as they drifted off to sleep...
"Nothing much," he said, trying to ignore the beguiling images. "Only five more venues and then I'm home."
Grantaire chuckled. "I know, Enjolras. I'm counting down the days," he said mockingly, but Enjolras could hear the sincerity in his tone, and he smiled.
"So where are you tonight?" Grantaire asked. "How are Combeferre and Courfeyrac?"
"They were good when I left them after the show..."
Grantaire sighed heavily. "Are you in a shitty motel again?"
Enjolras blushed involuntarily. "Yes...?" He stood up, shucking off his jacket and wandering over to the air conditioning, which was, of course, stuck on heat.
Grantaire made an exasperated noise. "Enjolras, you idiot. Why?"
Enjolras could hear voices from upstairs, complaining about something or other, and he could hear the sounds of the TV from the room below, turned up far too loud."You know why, R. Because I need to-"
Grantaire interrupted him. "I know, I know. You need to remind yourself that you're human."
Enjolras smiled. "And you help too, you know."
Grantaire chuckled. "I remind you to get your head out of your arse, mister rock star. After all, you are 'the best band on the planet...'"
Enjolras groaned, flopping back down onto the bed. "That was one time! I was drunk!"
"I'll never let you forget it," Grantaire said happily.
Enjolras yawned. "I should go to sleep. And I'm sorry for waking you up."
Grantaire's voice was fond. "Don't worry about it. Someone's got to remind you that you've gotta keep your feet on the ground."
Enjolras smiled, pulling back the covers and climbing into bed fully dressed. "Goodnight, R."
"G'night, Enjolras. I love you."
"I love you too."
xxxxxxx
Enjolras was woken up too early by the thunderous sound of knocking on his door. The sunlight streamed through his windows, the cheap curtains doing nothing to prevent it, and he screwed up his aching eyes.
"Housekeeping!" came the shout from outside. Enjolras swore. Of course he'd forgotten to put the 'do not disturb' sign on the door. He must have left it on the floor...
"Not today, thanks," he shouted back, voice hoarse and croaking. The person outside gave one last angry knock and then he heard them thump along the corridor.
He shifted around, peeking at the time on the clock beside the bed. The red display read 7.30am. He let out a heartfelt groan, his head dropping back down to the pillow.
The sun was too bright and he buried his head under the covers, trying to fall back asleep. But he was awake now, so he threw back the covers and clambered out of bed, limbs aching.
His phone was flashing from across the room. He grabbed it as he wandered over to his suitcase, pulling out his toiletries and a change of clothes.
There were several messages waiting for him. One from Combeferre, reminding him of what time the tour bus left. One from Courfeyrac, full of expletives and exclamation marks, demanding his presence for lunch before they left. And one, sent three hours ago, from Grantaire.
Only six days left. See you soon x
And Enjolras smiled.
"Cos it's times like these remind me
That I gotta keep my feet on the ground."