Work Text:
“We should talk.”
It was the blonde he had seen before. R glared through his mirrored glasses so of course the look was lost on the other. He rolled down the window of his too long stationary car, “You need anything?”
“I’m bored. And my phone died,” The other held up a very blank droid. It was pitiful, this routine of theirs.
“You could actually attend the service” R was still laying back on his seat, which had been fulling lowered into half a bed. A thick winter jacket covered him like a blanket.
“And hear about the Bishop’s Lenten Appeal again? Sounds exciting. I’m Enjolras, by the way.”
Grantaire finally sat up and held a hand out the open car window, “I’m R. My mom installed a tracker my phone because I can’t be trusted.”
“My parents had the GPS in my car linked to their phones.” The blonde looked as irritated as R felt at the injustice of it all, “Can I come in? I feel conscious standing in the open.”
R didn’t move more other than to unlock the car door and point to the passenger seat, his new companion slid in quickly, it was freezing so R shut the window.
“Lean the chair back so no one sees you.”
“You think I’m new to this?”
“Are you? I’ve been doing this for two years and I have not seen you.”
“You are always asleep when I get here.”
R turned his head to look at Enjolras. Every Sunday for years he had hidden out in the back of the church parking lot on his phone or listening to music waiting for the allotted hour and a half of service to pass so he could go home and tell his mom he had gone. It had been a while since he had actually stepped foot inside the church though. “Why do you skip Mass?”
Enjolras blinked in surprise at the question but R had never been one for subtlety. He was direct and blunt and it was one of his many faults. “I guess I hate the hypocrisy of it all.”
“But do you believe in God?”
“I would like to think I do.” Enjolras picked his words out carefully, “Do you.”
“I don’t believe in anything. But if they’re right I’m going to hell no matter what.”
Enjolras laughed at that, “I’ll see you there. I hear they don’t like my kind in Heaven.”
“And what’s ‘your kind’,” R countered, “is it like me, the kind that lies, steals, and watches porn on their phone on church grounds.”
“The gay kind.”
“You should see the porn I watch.” R grinned at him. Sundays were going to be a lot more interesting from now on.