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“Please tell me you two assholes aren’t planning on getting drunk while we’re at the Happiest Place on Earth?” Eponine asked as she dramatically pulled out a seat at their lunch table, setting down her bag with a loud thunk.
“Um, no.” Bossuet argued with vehemence, “That’s a horrible thing to imply and I resent the implication.” Eponine raised one eyebrow and stared him down. “Okay, yes. Fine, we were planning on getting a little bit drunk maybe. Why do you care?”
“Because I have to fucking cart you guys around all day! I don’t want to be responsible for you drunk pricks!” she complained, pointing at Bossuet and then Grantaire as well as he walked up and sat down.
“Eponine doesn’t want us to be drunk anymore.” Bossuet whispered, horrified, to Grantaire who narrowed his eyes in confusion.
“What? Why not? I am a very fun drunk.”
“Yeah, in phases two through four. Once you hit six you’re an absolute terror. And I don’t want you to never get drunk again, just… not when we’re in a place surrounded by children, yeah?” Eponine reasoned.
“Oh, we’re talking about Disneyland?” Grantaire asked as he took a bite out of his green apple, “Yeah, we’re getting drunk for that. Sorry, Ep.”
“No! No! Bahorel! You’re on my side for this, right?” Eponine asked. Bahorel, who had been previously too busy texting to pay attention to their conversation, looked up and around at them with wide eyes. He nodded a few times.
“I dunno, probably. You have more sense than these fuckers.”
“See? Thank you.” Eponine said with a grin.
“Actually, scratch that.” Bahorel said before chugging his Red Bull. “I agree with Jehan. He’s my favorite.” Eponine pouted and Jehan smiled widely next to Bahorel.
“So?” Eponine asked him hopefully. He thought about it a minute and then shrugged.
“Don’t get drunk.” Jehan told them and Eponine shouted in triumph. Bossuet and Grantaire just stared at her.
“Yeah we’re still getting drunk.” Bossuet deadpanned.
“Fucking assholes.”
###
“I repeat!” Eponine said loudly as she pulled into a spot in the parking structure, on the Donald Duck level, “Not one of you idiots is my responsibility! If you get lost, I expect you to be back here at the car by midnight or I am leaving without your sorry asses and you can find your own ride home. And Grantaire and Bossuet, I swear to the Lord, if either of you get in trouble with the police, that is the end of our friendship! This is supposed to be a fun day with friends and if that means I talk to no one but Jehan the whole time, I am more than okay with that! So don’t be dicks. I’m talking to you, R.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Grantaire said, yawning as he stepped out of the car and finally stretched his legs out. “We’ll be good, we promise.”
They weren’t good. In fact you could go so far to say that they were fucking terrible. But that’s really up for interpretation.
The five of them had managed Star Tours just fine, but that was just because Eponine hadn’t noticed Grantaire and Bossuet taking rather large and numerous swigs from their flasks. It wasn’t until they were climbing onto Space Mountain that Bahorel pointed it out to her, causing both she and Jehan to sigh in disappointment (but let’s be honest, it isn’t like they expected anything different to happen). After the ride it wasn’t difficult for the three of them to ditch Grantaire and Bossuet, who were stumbling now, arms interlocked as they tried to walk in synchronization.
“Left… right… left… right,” R murmured to Bossuet, both of them staring at their legs swinging out in front of them. After a while they both looked up in blurred confusion.
“Whoa, R. Where did everyone go?” Bossuet asked once they realized it was just the two of them now.
“Huh. I don’t kn-”
“Hey, um, are you guys gonna walk forward?” some guy behind the two of them asked. Grantaire looked forward, confused.
“Oh, we’re in line.” Grantaire mumbled. The two of them walked with the line, still moving together, legs swinging perfectly in-synch.
“What line are we in?” Bossuet inquired towards the man behind them. He stared at the two of them, his glasses making the look alarmingly more pointed, and gestured to their left and up.
“The Matterhorn. That giant mountain right there.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Grantaire murmured, ignoring the snickers of the glasses-man’s friend as both he and Bossuet were momentarily star-struck by the mass of rock and the screams emanating from it. The rest of the wait was a blur of laughs and more sneaky gulps from their flasks, accompanied by even more laughter (more accurately, giggles). They managed to board the car with minimal suspicion, mostly because the lady attendant happily mistook the two of them as a charming young couple. That was how they ended up in the same seat, Grantaire nestled into Bossuet’s lap.
“This is nice, honey.” Grantaire said as they ascended into the darkness of the first cave, burrowing back into Bossuet’s arms.
“You know, we aren’t actually dating, R.”
“Don’t ruin the moment, Bo.”
“Grantaire-” Their bickering was cut off by a loud growl, making the two of them jump. Bossuet’s hands immediately gripped the rails as the ride sped up, pushing Grantaire even father back. On a particularly intense curve, rounding the jeweled cave that in any other circumstance would have made the two of them stare in wonder, Grantaire launched his hands forward as well and gripped the bars over Bossuet’s.
“Grantaire! Let go of my hands!”
“I’m not holding your hands!”
“This is too far, Grantaire! I don’t want this!”
“Shut up! Just let me have this, Bossuet!”
(“Courfeyrac, are you listening to these guys in front of us?” Combeferre asked as they went past the waterfall. The two of them were in the car behind a pair of bickering guys and Combeferre was finding himself happy that Enjolras chose to skip out on this ride. He would probably be throwing verbal punches right about now.
“Yes, shh, I’m trying to hear them. This is good shit.” Courfeyrac responded as he contemplated pulling out his camera and recording the spat in front of him.)
“I don’t understand why the idea of us being a couple is so repulsive to you!” Grantaire screamed, yelping a little at the end as they went through the watery part of the ride, getting splashed a little.
“Come on, R,” Bossuet comforted once the car slowed down, “Don’t be like that. We’ve had this conversation. You’re great, but I really just see you as a friend. A best friend.” Grantaire smiled at that, but then turned around to glare when the two of them heard snickering in the car behind them. He didn’t have a chance to say anything about it, though, because next thing they knew they were stumbling out of the car and towards the next ride.
“Tea Cups!” Bossuet shouted.
(“Where to next?” Enjolras asked the two of them, once Courf and Combeferre and made it to the bench where he was sitting, eating a churro.
“Anywhere but the Tea Cups.” Combeferre deadpanned, making Courfeyrac whine in protest.)
“Get the purple one! The purple one!” Grantaire yelled, maneuvering through the cups with a surprising amount of grace.
“Which purple one?” Bossuet yelled back, stumbling in his attempt to catch up with Grantaire. He hit a few cups and children along the way (but they were okay) but he eventually slid into the correct purple cup, with a large daisy on the side of it. The music started and Grantaire and Bossuet didn’t even have to speak. They just stared at each other and simultaneously gripped the wheel before letting out a deranged war cry and throwing their whole strength into spinning the wheel, spinning themselves faster and faster and faster. Bossuet was at one point positive that they were going to fly of the track and end up shooting into the atmosphere, never to return back to earth. But that might have been an exaggeration.
“Shit that was amazing.” Grantaire muttered once the ride was over. Bossuet nodded his agreement wordlessly as they stumbled off the ride, both taking one final swig from their flasks.
And this is the part in the story where the two best friends get separated. Dizzy from the ride and disoriented from the alcohol, it was all too easy for them to drift apart from one another, especially once Grantaire was enticed by a shock of blonde hair walking by a few people away from him.
“Hey, that’s a hot guy.” Grantaire realized, muttering to himself since Bossuet had already started walking towards the bathrooms. He watched Hot Guy walk away, in the opposite direction from Bossuet, towards the Carousel. “Wait for me! Hot Guy! Hot Guuuuuy!” Grantaire weaved through the crowd, trying to follow Hot Guy, who wasn’t hearing his screams. Nonetheless, Grantaire persisted forwards despite the stares he was getting from people. He lost sight of Hot Guy completely, much to his chagrin, when he bumped into a very tall woman. He apologized profusely but was then pushed into an oncoming crowd, disorienting himself further. By the time he regained his senses and managed to escape the pull and push of people, he couldn’t find the pretty blonde curls anywhere. Mostly because he was distracted by a very tall wizard-man standing behind the Carousel and calling for volunteers.
“Whoa.” Grantaire whispered, staring up at the man and child, who was yanking at the sword stuck deep in a rock. “We probably shouldn’t let the kids around the swords. That can’t be safe, right?” Grantaire asked the girl next to him, who just looked up at him and giggled.
“Please, good people, I feel that a great ruler has arrived in your midst! Will he or she not step forward to try a hand at pulling the sword from the stone?” The wizard-man shouted, “I know I’ve been wrong a few times, but you! Come try! There is power in you, I sense it!” The wizard pointed at Grantaire and if possible his blue eyes opened wider.
“Me?” he asked, incredulous. He looked over both shoulders comically, making the girl next to him laugh at him once more. The wizard insisted it was him and so Grantaire stumbled up and stared down at the sword. He looked out at the crowd nervously, his eyes meeting the girl’s once again. When he didn’t look away she pointed to the sword and mouthed try to lift it. Grantaire looked down at the sword once again before resolutely widening his stance and pulling.
“He did it!”
“I did it?” Grantaire muttered, looking down in surprise at the loosened sword.
“He is king!”
“I am king?” Grantaire asked happily as the crowd cheered for him. “I am king! Wooo!”
###
Bossuet stumbled out of the bathroom with the bitter realization that Grantaire was no longer with him, his flask was now empty, and he was pathetically lost.
“Grantaire?” Bossuet shouted as he was pushed along with the crowds. “Grantaire?!” he whimpered a little when there was no response and begrudgingly started walking towards the big sign that said Adventureland. It only took a few minutes for him to stumble around a little blindly until he found himself sitting in a poorly lit room lined with benches, surrounded my decidedly ominous birds.
“I don’t even like birds.” Bossuet muttered to himself as the cursed things started singing loudly and the show began. Let’s just say it all went downhill from there and a few moments later Bossuet was kicked out of the Tiki Room for throwing his left shoe at a parrot.
“Those things are evil, man! I’m telling you, we should all rise up and take them down!” Bossuet told the attendant who was walking him out of the showroom.
“Okay man, whatever you say.” The guy told him, before pushing him a little out into the open walkway and then leaving him behind. Just then, Bossuet went to turn to the side and ran right into someone who had just bought a Dole Pineapple Whip.
“Oh shit, man I am so sorry!” the dude yelled, trying to clean up the juice that had spilled onto Bossuet’s pant leg.
“Aw don’t worry about it.” Bossuet assured, “This stuff happens to me like all the time.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” the guy asked, a little skeptical, but Bossuet just nodded.
“Hey!” Bossuet said, eyes lighting up, “You know what will make it even?” the guy shook his head, “Buy me one of those?” The stranger laughed and nodded and yeah, Bossuet may have gotten his pants ruined and lost his left shoe, but at least he got a free ice cream.
###
Bossuet’s minor run at good luck still had nothing on Grantaire, who was stumbling out of Fantasyland with a brand new medal and certificate that said he was now King of Camelot. That shit is the realest.
He was beaming proudly as he stumbled to sit on a bench in front of the castle. He sat down with a contented sigh and then slowly took in his surroundings. When he looked to his left he noticed the lady working the churro cart was looking back at him with a smile.
“Hi.” He greeted with a wave. She waved and smiled back and Grantaire lolled his body to the side so he was facing her. “How’s your day going?” he flirted.
“Pretty good thanks.” The woman said back, smiling wider at his antics, “How about yours?” Grantaire’s eyes widened, abandoning the flirting-façade as he pulled up his medal and showed her the certificate.
“Amazing! I’m the King of Camelot! Did you hear?”
“Wow, congratulations! I bet your friends are real proud of you.” Grantaire sighed and gazed out in the distance.
“Nah. You know, I don’t even know where they went. I came with people, I swear. Beautiful people, the best people. You’d love them, I know you would. I just don’t know where they went.” Grantaire explained with another heaving sigh at the end. The woman looked at him with a look that if Grantaire was sober he would recognize as pity.
“Well, I’m sorry about that. But, you know, I think that King of Camelot thing deserves a free churro.” She said with a smirk. Grantaire’s jaw dropped.
“You’re kidding me.” He deadpanned.
“Not even a little. Here, it’s on the park.” She winked as she handed him the gift, and Grantaire held it like it was made of gold.
“Thank you so much, churro lady.” Grantaire praised before turning around, ignoring her slightly put-off look, and seeing a group of little girls and boys surrounding Princess Aurora. Grantaire gasped and pulled out a napkin from his pocket, as well as a pen, and began to draw.
###
Bossuet wasn’t usually one for rollercoasters. So what he was thinking when he strolled up to “the wildest ride in the wilderness” was really a question that drunk him would never be able to answer.
“Hey, um, buddy, you okay?” the guy sitting next to him asked after Bossuet had immediately squeaked loudly when the car moved forwards.
“No.”
“Well, okay then.” The guy replied, sounding uncomfortable. Bossuet just nodded and stared straight ahead at the slowly rising track. “My name’s Combeferre, by the way.” Again, Bossuet just nodded. If he had been sober he would have realized this was a social cue, in which he should probably be responding with his own name, but he was drunk, so he didn’t do that.
Bossuet wished he could say that despite his slight fear of rollercoasters he handled the situation with admirable decorum. He wished he could say that he took it all in stride and suffered silently, like society’s expectations of what a real man should be. But no. Bossuet screamed the entire time and he swore to God, he almost had a heart attack when they rode past the giant dinosaur skeleton.
(At first Combeferre was just alarmed, thoroughly and completely worried for the man sitting next to him and piercingly childish scream, but towards the end of the ride he could barely contain his laughter, much to Courfeyrac and Enjolras’ enjoyment.)
“Oh my God. I am so glad that’s over.” Bossuet sighed as he climbed out of the ride. His legs were a little shaky so Combeferre helped him steady himself as they walked towards the exit. Bossuet thanked him profusely, complimenting his chivalry the whole way.
“Combeferre, what the hell is this?” A very pretty blonde man asked them, sounding angry, once they made it to the exit.
“Hey, is that the Matterhorn guy?” The other one asked, smiling widely. Combeferre nodded and stared at Bossuet with amusement etched across his features. Bossuet just stared back at them, confused, and then nodded once and turned around to walk away.
“Wait!” Combeferre called, grabbing Bossuet by the arm and making the boy stumble backwards slightly. “Where’s your friend? How come you’re alone?” Bossuet shook his head as he tried to remember what happened to the four other people he came here with.
“Um, I don’t know. They… disappeared, I suppose.” Bossuet said with a shrug before trying to walk away again, but Combeferre just pulled him back once more.
“You should stick with us then, at least until you find your friends.” Combeferre offered. Bossuet smiled at the kindness.
“Really?” he asked.
“Really?” the pretty blonde echoed. Combeferre glared at the blonde and raised one eyebrow.
“He’s all alone. We don’t want him getting in trouble.” Combeferre argued, in what Bossuet assumed was sort of his defense.
“Plus, if anything he’ll be good entertainment.” The other one, the one with the nice smile, teased. Bossuet nodded assuredly, knowing that in the past he had been told drunk him was very entertaining.
“I can be that! I swear. I can.” The blonde rolled his eyes and nodded, trying to seem reluctant but the corners of his mouth were twitching upwards so Bossuet could tell he wasn’t too put-out.
“Yayyy!” Bossuet cheered in victory as the four of them walked towards Pirates of the Caribbean, Bossuet and the Smiley One singing The Little Mermaid songs loudly as they stood in line.
“So… guy,” Pretty Blonde said as they sat in the boat. He was sitting next to Bossuet who was right at the edge, but he was obviously scooted over as far as he could so that no part of them was touching, “Why are you alone, again?” Bossuet stared into the darkness and tried to remember the answer to that question.
“That’s a really good question, Pretty Blonde.” Bossuet slurred, “I think it has something to do with… bathrooms? Or rules? It’s all a little fuzzy.” Bossuet leaned a little towards the blonde at the end of his phrase and bopped him on the nose. The boy looked absolutely appalled and immediately slid more to the right.
“Jesus, what would possess someone to get drunk at Disneyland?” he asked, but this time not addressing Bossuet but Combeferre, who just shrugged and laughed a little.
“Maybe he isn’t drunk. Maybe this is just who he is. You know, sometimes your snap judgments are more revealing of yourself than anyone else. Take a look in the mirror young lady,” Smiley One offered and Bossuet smiled at the defense but shook his head.
“No no no no, I am drunk. I promise you, though, I’m actually a delight sober. I cook, I clean, I can easily be convinced to let you paint my nails -” Bossuet said.
“Can we all just shut up and pay attention to the ride?” Pretty Blonde snapped right as the boat fell down its first steep drop. They all screamed, none as loud as Bossuet, although Smiley One’s was rather overdramatic as he clung to Combeferre.
“This is too far, Courfeyrac, I don’t want this!” Combeferre shouted playfully.
“Shut up, just let me have this, Ferre!” Smiley One laughed back.
###
It took a while for Grantaire to get himself out of the vicinity of the castle, but it was worth it because as it turns out, Princess Aurora was very flattered by his drawing of her, if the numbers scrawled across the more-than-slightly-inebriated boy’s arm were any indication. And once they had made that exchange a good number of children had seen the drawing and wanted ones of their own. And come on, who is Grantaire to refuse a multitude of little children demanding for their favorite characters on a napkin?
So that took a little while, but eventually he was able to get away, stumbling along the walkway to New Orleans Square with his free churro, his certificate and medal, and one sleeve rolled up to proudly display the numbers across his arm.
He was still gazing down at his arm with more than slight amusement when he felt something small attach itself to his leg, and looked down to see a little girl with Minnie Mouse ears over curly black hair with arms wrapped around his leg.
"Hello," Grantaire mused, bending down so he could more efficiently decipher why there was this small person hiding her face in his jeans.
"Hello," a small shy voice came.
"How are you?" Grantaire asked, because drunk or not, Grantaire would be damned if he dared forsake politeness. Plus that kind of thing always helped calm the damsels-in-distress in the movies.
"I'm lost," Grantaire could feel the girl's grip tighten on his leg.
"Oh no," Grantaire responded, finding himself suddenly close to tears. He was lost without his friends, she was lost without hers. Was no one safe here?
"My daddy said to find a grown-up if I got lost, and they would help me. Can you help me?" The girl pulled away from his leg slightly, blinking away tears from her eyes as she looked up at Grantaire hopefully. Grantaire knelt in front of her, keeping his hands on her shoulders lightly.
"M'lady, it would be my honor."
The girl wiped her nose, looked down at the ground and smiled a little.
"I'm not a lady," she said shyly.
"Well you must excuse me, but you have such a beautiful tiara here, only a Disney princess could have something so beautiful," Grantaire continued, pointing to her gold tiara to the girl's delight. "And with your pretty green dress, why it looks just like another princess I know...Tiana, I think her name is."
The girl's eyes widened. "I love Tiana! She's my favorite."
"So you know her too!" Grantaire swung the girl up to his hip unthinkingly. "Well, don't worry princess, you've chosen one of the bravest knights in all the kingdom to help you in your quest. I will not fail you, fair one. My name's Grantaire. What's yours?"
"Anastasia," she answered, smiles coming much easier to her now.
"Well, Princess Anastasia, you do remember what your friend Princess Tiana taught us?"
Anastasia shook her head.
"That it don't matter what you look like" Grantaire began to sing, "it don't matter what you wear. How many rings you got on your finger. We don't care!"
"No we don't care!" Ana laughed along with him.
"It don't matter where you come from," they both continued louder now, causing a few people to stop and smile, "don't even matter what you are. A dog a pig a cow a goat got 'em all in here!"
At the next phrase they were joined by a chorus of brass, causing Grantaire to whirl around and notice the ragtime band that had somehow formed behind them without his knowledge. People were forming more of a crowd now, and Grantaire was nothing is not a crowd-pleaser.
"And they all knew what they wanted," he twirled Ana around and dipped her, causing her to squeal with laughter, "what they wanted me to do. I told them what they needed, just like I be telling you."
"You gotta dig a little deeper." Both Grantaire and Anastasia gaped at the beautiful voice coming from the woman in the green dress.
"Tiana!" Ana whispered reverently, as the princess walked closer with a smile and a couple Mardi Gras beads which she put on them graciously, pulling on their hands to guide Grantaire and his passenger closer to her and the band who were now about halfway through the chorus.
"When you find out who you are you find out what you need, come on everybody, you know the words!" Tiana urged them on and Grantaire eagerly joined in "BLUE SKIES AND SUNSHINE GUARANTEED!"
"Anastasia!" Someone in the crowd called out frantically.
Anastasia wiggled in Grantaire's arms. "Daddy!"
A large harried looking man burst through the crowd to the band still playing and pulled Anastasia in for an enthusiastic hug.
"Ana I thought I lost you, oh my God, thank God you're alright."
"I'm alright Daddy," Ana smiled, "Grantaire and I got to meet Princess Tiana and she gave me these necklaces and we got to sing with her!"
"Wow honey, that sounds fun, but how about we stick together for the rest I the day, huh?"
"Ok Daddy."
The man turned to Grantaire, a hint of worry still in his eye. "Thank you. I'm sorry, she just slipped away from me-"
"Princess! I'm so glad I could aid you in your quest," Grantaire bowed and Ana giggled in her father's arms, hiding her face in his chest. "I wish you luck in all your future endeavors. Adieu."
Anastasia and her dad walked away, and Grantaire watched them fondly, her dad kissing her forehead three times before letting her down and walking together hand in hand.
"Good kid, good kid," Grantaire mumbled, stumbling away to find a bathroom he was pretty sure was in a back alley somewhere...
###
Bossuet doesn’t know how he ended up here. He vaguely remembered leaving Combeferre and his friends, after they got off Pirates, but everything after that was a little blurry. So he had literally no idea why or how he got to the top of a tree, with the only way down a rope bridge.
“I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” Bossuet muttered to himself. This tree was some sort of death trap, set up to lure little children and drunk men to their untimely demise. So it was all very puzzling to the boy, as he saw little children running down it with abandon, seeming to have the time of their life.
“What the actual fuc-”
“Are you okay, sir?” a little boy asked, tugging on Bossuet’s shirt. He looked down at the little kid with wide eyes and shook his head, because if he knew one thing it was that he was not okay right now.
“No. I am not. Do you know how to get down here without risking imminent death?” the little boy narrowed his eyes in confusion.
“You’re scared?” he asked. Bossuet nodded. “Why? You’re like a giant! Here! Take my hand. We’ll walk down slowly.” The little boy made it seem so simple, like walking down that contraption wasn’t accepting sure death. “You know, lots of people get scared. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t face out fears! Just like Belle, in Beauty and the Beast. She was scared of the castle and the Beast, but she faced those fears, to save her father. And then everything turned out good in the end!” the boy said as he lead Bossuet down the rope bridge. The older boy was so caught up in the little kid’s speech that he didn’t even notice when they had finally made it down. He yelled in triumph when they did and spun the boy around.
“You saved me, kid!” the little boy just shrugged.
“Well, you were kind of holding up the line.”
Bossuet turned back to see a horde of little kids going down the bridge now. Oh God, this was a ride, wasn’t it? People wanted to go on this? Did they have a death wish? Bossuet put his head in his hands, getting a little dizzy just looking at the height.
“Have a good day, weird guy!” the little boy screamed, running off towards his parents. Bossuet laughed and smiled widely, before narrowing his eyes at the bridge again.
“Disneyland is a dangerous place. I have to remember that.”
###
“Oh, man! That’s an awesome picture!” Grantaire said. He was walking the back alley of New Orleans Square when he saw the people doing profile sketches in the shade of the balconies. One of the guys was just sitting there, waiting for a customer and Grantaire slid into the seat across from him without much thought. “Hey, can I have some paper?” Grantaire asked, sliding off his backpack and gingerly stacking up all the stuff he had acquired in his day.
“Um, yeah, I guess.” The guy handed him a big white piece of paper, albeit reluctantly, and Grantaire immediately started sketching the scene in front of him. After a moment of watching, the man noticed what Grantaire was doing and grabbed a pen of his own, beginning to sketch the boy in return.
###
“Oh my God! There’s water IN THIS BOAT! Aren’t they paying for the boat to keep the water OUT?”
Splash Mountain wasn’t a good idea, Bossuet could see that now. And he was panicking. His heart was beating fast and he was effectively wet in every possible place on his body and according to the child in front of him, the biggest fall was yet to come.
“Kid, we gotta make a run for it.” Bossuet whispered, staring with wide eyes at the little animals that were singing a very scary song in warning. The little girl looked back at him and shook her head.
“No. There’s nowhere to go, now. We just gotta do it. Just close your eyes and be brave.” She whispered back. Bossuet whimpered quietly in fear but then was struck by one concrete moment of resolve.
“I am not dying here!” he practically shouted before crouching down and jumping out of the boat, ignoring the protestations on the girl. He laid back in relief once he made it to dry land, almost sobbing with joy that he made it. He wouldn’t die today, not today. He looked around and up at the bunny a couple feet away, singing to her little buns about the evil that Brer Fox had prepared in the laughing place. He crawled over to listen to what she had to say and it was only a few minutes later that Bossuet heard someone calling after him. He looked over and saw Combeferre in a boat with only him, Smiley One and Pretty Blonde, all three of them yelling adamantly for him, waving him over. Bossuet scrambled along to them, urging them to get out while they could, before it was too late.
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” The Pretty Blonde snapped, obviously sick of Bossuet’s arguing, “Get in the goddamn boat NOW!” Bossuet was, let’s say this appropriately, scared shitless. So he jumped in the boat, somehow managing the leap once again.
“Wow that was amazing,” Smiley One praised once Bossuet had settled in the seat behind him, still too focused on reeling from terror of Pretty Scary Blonde to be afraid of the coming drop, “For future reference, mind telling me how you’ve managed to not get kicked out of the park today?”
###
“Enjolras, stop pouting.” Combeferre scolded, making Enjolras pout even more, “We warned you that you might get a little wet.” He said, fighting off laughter with every word. At least Combeferre was trying to maintain some decorum; Courfeyrac was openly laughing, taking pictures and everything of Enjolras’ soaked form.
“You look like a wet kitten, Enj.” Courfeyrac exclaimed in between heaves of laughter, earning a glare from his best friend that would make any other man shy away in terror. Courfeyrac just snapped another photo.
“You guys told me sitting in the front would get me the least wet!”
“Yeah, we lied.” Combeferre admitted. Enjolras scoffed before wringing out his long blonde hair and flinging it over Courfeyrac, making the other boy squeal and run backwards. Combeferre laughed and grabbed the two of them by the arm before towing them away from one another. “Stop fighting. I have to find a bathroom and you’re still scaring the Drunk Guy, Enjolras.” The three of them turned and looked at Drunk Guy, who was staring at all of them with wide eyes.
“I’m not scared.” He squeaked, staring at Enjolras as if he expected any moment for him to snap again. Enjolras flushed slightly red but Combeferre just laughed and put one arm around his shoulder.
“Don’t worry. We’re all a little afraid of him. I swear, he’s a nice guy.” Combeferre assured.
“Enjolras, wait with him. We’ll be right back. Don’t lose him.” Combeferre instructed sternly once they got to the bathroom in New Orleans Square.
“Yes, Ferre.” Enjolras grumbled, rolling his eyes at the tone Combeferre took, the one that made him sound like a fifty-year-old dad. Once the two of them left he turned to Drunk Guy who was now leaning back on the bench and staring up at the sky happily.
“Look Pretty Scary Blonde, there’s a cloud shaped like France.” Drunk Guy muttered and Enjolras would have been offended by the nickname, but he was actually really excited to see this cloud.
“Oh yeah. It sorta does look like Fra-” Enjolras stopped short with a squeak when he saw him. It was the cute guy from the parking structure. And from the Matterhorn. And from Alice and Wonderland. And from the Sword and the Stone place. This was getting ridiculous. “Fuck, I think he’s stalking me.” Enjolras squeaked, ignoring the flurry that sent in his stomach in exchange for accepting the worry that it triggered in his mind.
“Um, Drunk Guy. We gotta go.” Enjolras said. He tugged on Drunk Guy’s arm, trying to get him to follow, but the boy only groaned. He wouldn’t budge. “Come on!”
“No!” he whined, curling up into a ball, somehow, on the bench. “Leave me alone, I wanna take a nap.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Enjolras whispered. He’d never had much patience for sober people, let alone drunk people. “We have got to go. Or I swear, I will leave you here!”
“Fine!” he snapped back, suddenly petulant. “Just leave me. Everyone else already has!” Enjolras sighed, defeated, but then he saw the cute boy walking much nearer and panicked. He just ran, tugging Combeferre and Courfeyrac in the opposite direction as they walked out of the bathroom.
“Don’t ask questions; just run!” Enjolras said.
“Wait, isn’t that the cute guy-”
“No questions! Just run!”
###
“They all leave, they always leave.” Bossuet murmured to himself as he readjusted himself to lay back, closed his eyes and fell asleep.
###
Grantaire stumbled out of New Orleans Square with one more commodity in his pile. After spending a good amount of time sketching, the two artists happily exchanged their drawings with a smile and a good day. So now the list of Things Grantaire had Charmed Out of Disneyland included: a churro (still not eaten), a medal and certificate, about six Mardi Gras beads, a phone number, Mickey Mouse ears (that he didn’t quite remember getting on his head but were there nonetheless) and now a sketch, all free of charge. It had been a big day for Grantaire and as he was stumbled out of New Orleans Square he was suddenly very very tired. He somehow found his way to a bench, seeing out of the corner of his eye a flash of familiar blonde hair, but too tired to do much about it. Instead he just collapsed on a bench and leaned over, very quickly falling asleep with all of his things tucked into his chest.
###
“This is fucking ridiculous.” Bossuet heard Eponine announce. He was woken up by the repeated flash of a camera and the sound of distinct laughter. He opened his eyes slowly, feeling his head ache. He was surprised to realize that it was night, the sun had set and he was laying against-
“Grantaire!” Bossuet yelled, turning around to realize he had fallen asleep on his best friend without knowing it. “What the fuck! Where did you come from?” Grantaire blinked his eyes open slowly but responded with equal enthusiasm once he realized what Bossuet did, the best friends pulling each other in for a hug.
“Where did you go? You disappeared!” Grantaire responded with a laugh.
“I can tell you!” Jehan said happily. He wiggled himself in between the two of them and showed them the photos he had captured on his digital camera. The first couple were of Grantaire, standing in front of the crowd and pulling valiantly on the sword in the stone. The next few were of Bossuet, stumbling through a mass of people and then one of him sitting on a bench, eating a Dole whip and crying to himself dramatically. There was also several of Grantaire singing and dancing with a little girl and a progressively larger band surrounding them, a few of Bossuet climbing up Tarzan’s Tree House, followed by the thousand that they took of the two of them asleep together on the bench.
“So you guys ran into us at multiple points throughout the day, but never thought to, you know, help us?” Grantaire asked with incredulity. Jehan and Eponine just shook their heads and Bahorel shrugged as he took the last bite of Grantaire’s churro.
“Fuck you guys.”
###
“Grantaire.” Enjolras said. Grantaire looked up quickly, startled by the suddenly insistent voice of his boyfriend.
“What’s up?” Grantaire moved over to sit by Enjolras, who was flipping through Jehan’s old scrapbooks. They were at Jehan’s place for Courfeyrac’s birthday, but everyone was either out to run and grab the marshmallow vodka they couldn’t believe they forgot (Jehan), out buying last-minute gifts (Bahorel and Bossuet) or at work (Feuilly) or still having soulmate-sex (Combeferre and Eponine, Cosette and Marius, Joly and Chetta). Enjolras pointed to the picture of Bossuet and Grantaire, asleep on a bench at Disneyland, surrounded by red glitter and pointedly stared at Grantaire. Apparently he felt no words were necessary.
“Um. Yes? That’s me and Bossuet…” Enjolras sighed and tapped the picture with growing impatience.
“When was this?”
“Um, about two, three years ago, at Disneyland? It was actually a really funny story, Eponine was pissed because the two of us decided to get-”
“Really really drunk.” The two of them said at the same time. Enjolras glared for a moment.
“Wait, I don’t get it,” Grantaire pulled out the chair next to Enjolras and sat down, “are you mad at me for getting drunk three years ago? Do you have some weird idolatry connected to Disneyland? Have I defiled the park for you?”
“Grantaire,” Enjolras pushed the book into his beautiful, dense boyfriend’s face. “Ok, first of all, I can’t really talk about getting drunk at inappropriate times, or did you forget the story of my first words to you? So you can get off your high horse. Second, I’m sure you did yourself proud that day, but do you at all remember a certain debonair blonde guy you stalked that day?”
Grantaire’s brow furrowed, “You know, now that you mention it, I did see this one blonde guy I thought was just ridiculously, unfairly attractive, but I definitely didn’t stalk him, I’m pretty sure I only saw him that once and then I lost him…who the fuck told you this story already?”
“Nobody told me anything, R.”
Grantaire looked from the picture to Enjolras blankly.
“Grantaire! Get there faster!”
“Wait…holy fuck was that…was that you?”
“Yeah that was me, alright. I was the young boy you terrorized by following around the park.” Enjolras said with a smug mask of calm.
“I was not following you – ”
“Grantaire, literally every corner we turned, you were right there. You weren’t exactly subtle.”
“I was drunk off my ass! I didn’t have the mental capacity to stick with my own friends, but you think I was coherent enough to stealth-watch you? Someone thinks a lot of themselves, don’t they? No, really I’m glad I’m seeing this side of you, Enjolras, I feel so much closer to the real you-”
“Well what was I supposed to think?” Enjolras argued petulantly.
“Wait, so were you, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac the ones that saved Bossuet on Splash Mountain?”
“Yeah. What the hell were you two thinking? How did that day even end for you two? In some sort of Disneyland prison?”
"You’re looking at it, actually.” Grantaire admitted, pointing the picture Enjolras had fixated on. Enjolras tried not to smile, equal parts exasperated and amused, he really did.
“No way.”
Grantaire was silent for a moment as he appraised his boyfriend.
"You really thought I was stalking you?”
Enjolras blushed.
“I was 16. I didn’t know you. You kept showing up. Yes, I thought it was possible, perhaps even likely that you were stalking me…or maybe Courfeyrac, or Combeferre. I’m sorry if that sounds ridiculous to you.”
“I only noticed you once,” Grantaire offered, “why did you keep noticing me?”
“Irrelevant,” Enjolras closed the scrapbook and tried to get up, only to have Grantaire grab his arm to keep him there.
“Apooooolllooooooo.”
“…I thought you were cute. I thought a cute guy was following me and my friends around. A cute guy who was clearly pretty confident if he wasn’t even bothering to be discrete, and…”
“And what?” Grantaire didn’t even have the courtesy to hide his smile.
“And… and…”
“Enjolras, did you… want me to be following you?” Grantaire teased, making Enjolras flush red. He spluttered for a moment before mustering a response.
“Fuck you, R. It’s your fault! Who gave you the right to be all cute? … following me around all day…” this is the point in the conversation where Enjolras realized that he was only going to end up more embarrassed as words progressed, so he decided to distract R with sex (obviously), and shifted on the couch to straddle Grantaire, “With those stupid black curls, that cocky smile, and fucking collarbones that really shouldn’t be allowed to be out in an environment with children about,” Enjolras muttered, running his fingers over the offending features as he ticked them off. Grantaire just smirked at him, completely aware of exactly what Enjolras was doing but also completely okay with letting it happen.
Unfortunately, just as things were about to actually happen, the door to Jehan’s apartment swung in and, like the group of co-dependent fuckers that they were, literally everyone walked in at the same time (mostly because when Jehan says get there at 3:30, people are going to get there at 3:30). Enjolras and Grantaire didn’t move from their compromising position on the couch, just looked over and stared at their friends as their friends stared right on back.
Jehan, who was standing at the front of the group crossed his hands over his heart and cooed, “Aw, you guys, in my house! On my couch! I feel so… honored. Your love is so beautiful.” Courfeyrac smiled down at his boyfriend before looking back to Enjolras and Grantaire, holding up the large bottle of marshmallow-flavored vodka.
“Body shots?”