Chapter Text
“Ocean blue eyes/ looking in mine/
I feel like I might/ sink and drown and die”
May 2018
“I’m sorry, Courf, I wish I could go. But it’s finals- I just don’t have the time,” Enjolras apologized, spinning his desk chair from the computer to face his friend.
“Please?” Courfeyrac pleaded, literally clasping his hands together like a prayer. “Everyone is going, and it wouldn’t be the same without you. And I need you to meet him!”
“You’ve only been dating for two weeks,” Enjolras said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sure I’ll meet him later on, if this is serious.”
At that, Courfeyrac sighed dramatically and flopped onto Enjolras’s bed, pushing textbooks and notes off of it as he did so.
“I need those-“ Enjolras began, but Courfeyrac ignored his protests.
“I have no idea if it’s serious! I change from my normal suave self into a literal disaster in his presence! I’m basically Marius!”
“No, you’re not,” Combeferre said, joining his roommates in Enjolras’s room. “Marius was never suave to begin with. And I’m sure Jehan will be more than willing to talk about your relationship status.”
This only caused Courfeyrac to groan loudly.
“And Enj, the concert isn’t even until nine,” Combeferre added, turning his attention to the other friend. “You’d be back here by one at the latest. Which gives you-“ he pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time; “-five hours to wrap up your paper and get to the club.”
Enjolras sighed and glanced despairingly at the mess of notes that lay in a heap on the floor. “I don’t know…”
“And isn’t Eponine in the band, too?” Combeferre asked Courfeyrac. “I’m sure she’d appreciate our support, considering the amount of times she’s let us stay in the café after she was supposed to close it.”
“That’s true!” Courfeyrac said, sitting up. “And I think a guy Joly and Bossuet went to high school with or something. Enjolras, you cannot spend a Friday night trapped in your room with your schoolwork! You simply need to be with your most beloved friends and soon-to-be friends.”
“Today’s Thursday, Courf.”
Nonetheless, five hours later Enjolras found himself surrounded tightly by a group of his friends in the dingy club. Joly, Bossuet, Musichetta and Bahorel were chatting to the right of him, beers and waters clutched in their hands. Combeferre and Marius stood to the left, looking at something on Ferre’s phone.
Enjolras put his hands in his pockets and took in the dark walls covered in posters of bands he’d never heard of, large bar to the left of the stage, and sound guys carefully setting up for the night.
“Hey, Feuilly!” He called to one of the black-clad technicians, who was tuning a guitar onstage. Feuilly gave him a smile and a wave, and Enjolras knew he’d meet up with the gang after the show.
Behind him, Courfeyrac nervously tugged at his hair and clothes as Cosette tried to calm him.
“I’m sure he wants to be exclusive with you, honey. Just try and relax,” Cosette soothed, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“He’s just the coolest person I’ve ever met. I don’t think I can compare,” Courfeyrac said, staring down at the sticky club floor.
Hearing that, Enjolras had to turn around. “Bullshit,” he said, causing Courfeyrac’s eyebrows to shoot up and Cosette to smother a smile. “There is literally no one on this planet that can compare to you, Courf. Who else can wear glitter on a daily basis without managing to look like a stripper? Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” He added, raising his hands into the air.
“Who else would organize an anti-prom in high school because we weren’t allowed to have boys as dates? Even though no one wanted to date us anyway,” Enjolras added, making Courfeyrac snort.
Cosette wrapped her arms around Courfeyrac’s shoulders. “Listen to your friend, dummy.”
“All I’m saying is, I don’t think it’s possible for Jehan to not love you as much as we do,” Enjolras finished with a smile.
“Thanks, Enj. I-“ Courfeyrac began, but then his words were drowned out by a roar in the crowd as the lights went down.
Enjolras turned around to face the stage again as Courfeyrac, Cosette, Marius, Joly, Boussuet, Musichetta, Bahorel, and Combeferre made their way closer to the front.
Feedback blared through the tiny club, and suddenly a burst of light hit the stage, revealing the lead singer, keyboardist, bassist, and drummer.
“Hello, Baltimore!” The lead called into the mic, and the crowd replied with a cheer. Based on the earsplitting noises from Courfeyrac, Enjolras assumed this must be Jehan.
“Have we got a show for you tonight,” Jehan grinned. “One, two, three-“
A song started, but Enjolras didn’t take note of it at all. Apparently his friends liked it, for they began dancing and singing along around him. Instead, he looked curiously at the group of people playing in front of him.
Jehan did seem unique, to put it lightly. He wore his pale blonde hair in a long braid that lay over his right shoulder, with a flower crown resting on his head. His sweater was a strange- and honestly rather ugly, in Enjolras’s opinion- mash of purples, reds, blues, and yellows, matched with a pair of blue jeans holy enough to be Charlie Brown’s ghost costume. But his voice was sweet and melodic as a bird’s in the springtime, and it flowed beautifully with his guitar.
To his right was Eponine, whom Enjolras knew from working at the café where his friends often met. She looked the same as usual in all black, the only difference being the bass that she expertly strummed as if it were second nature. Her eyes scanned the small crowd as if they were looking for someone in particular, but Enjolras couldn’t guess who.
Behind her on the drums was a skinny guy Enjolras didn’t recognize, clad in a top hat, of all things. Something about his smirk put Enjolras on edge, so he turned his attention to the keyboardist instead.
At first, the man didn’t impress him. But the moment Enjolras started looking, he found himself unable to stop. Messy black hair underneath a dark green beanie, some dark scruff on his face, and a black t-shirt and jeans similar to Eponine’s. But even in the shooting lights of the stage Enjolras could make out colorful tattoos that went all the way up the man’s arms. They became even more prominent as he picked up the tempo on the keys with the next song, playing and singing backup vocals for Jehan.
He was so enthralled by the keyboardist, and he didn’t even allow himself to think of why. He just kept staring, a small smile tugging at his mouth.
When lights shown on the crowd, the man caught Enjolras’s eye. He gave him a quick wink, and Enjolras startled. He didn’t frequent the small club scenes often, and so he was more used to large concert halls where it is nearly impossible for the musicians to pick out anyone from the crowd, much less make eye contact with them.
He broke away from his gaze and stared at the ground, before letting out a short breath and bringing his attention back to Jehan, who was singing something about peace and states of being.
When the song ended, the crowd (well, mostly Enjolras’s friends) cheered as exuberantly as if they were seeing Queen with Freddie Mercury. Courfeyrac jumped up and down and yelled, “Wooooo!!” causing Jehan to grin widely.
“Thank you for coming out tonight guys, we really appreciate it,” Jehan said, absentmindedly running his fingers along the strings of his guitar. “Barricade would not be still playing without your endless support.”
“Well, we would, it would just be in Eponine’s apartment,” The keyboardist added with a laugh. “But we’d really rather not get kicked out again.”
“So I’d like to dedicate this next song to anyone who’s feeling the love tonight. I know I am,” Jehan smiled, and Courfeyrac blew him an exaggerated kiss.
“And I’d personally like to dedicate it to the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life,” The keyboardist said after taking a swig from his beer. “Blonde guy in the front row, you are stunning, and I kind of hate you for it.”
At that note, the next song began. Enjolras felt his cheeks turning as bright red as the jacket tied around his waist, and he quickly tilted his gaze back to the ground again. What the hell was wrong with that guy?
Courfeyrac hooted and hit Enjolras on the shoulder playfully, and Bahorel let out a booming laugh.
“It’s true!” Bossuet called, and even with his friends’ teasing Enjolras kept his eyes firmly on the ground, before looking up and keeping his attention locked on Jehan for the remainder of the song. The red blush seemed permanently etched into his cheeks, however, so Enjolras stomped over to the bar and ordered a cup of water, and tried furiously to regain his composure.
When the set finally ended, Enjolras stayed locked in his spot at the bar instead of returning to his friends. The band gave their bows and exited the stage, and the house lights went back up, making the club quickly fill with chatter.
“That was incredible!” Musichetta said, her arms slung around Joly and Bossuet on either side of her. “I’d go see them again even if we didn’t know them personally.”
“When do we get to meet everyone, Courf?” Bossuet called.
“He said they’d come out before the next band came on-“ Courfeyrac began, before being engulfed in a hug from behind from Jehan.
“Thank you for coming! That was our best show in months,” Jehan said, giving Courfeyrac a kiss on the cheek.
Courfeyrac spun around to give him a proper hug. “You guys were amazing! My friends are dying to meet you, and everyone else.”
“Of course!” Jehan waved over his bandmates, and the group of friends made a circle. “So I’m Jehan, and I like your friend Courfeyrac. Our bassist is Eponine, whom you already know, I’m told.”
Eponine stood at Jehan’s side and gave a quick smile. “Hey, everyone. Thanks for coming!”
“’Ponine, that was insane! I had no idea you could play like that!” Marius gushed, and Cosette nodded excitedly from under his arm.
Surprisingly, Eponine’s cheeks began to turn pink. “Yeah, thanks.”
“I remember when we were kids and you said you wanted to be a rockstar, and now here you are!” Marius continued, beaming.
“Not really a rockstar,” Eponine muttered, but she was cut off by the drummer sticking his hand out to the group.
“Monparnasse. Nice to meet you all,” he said shortly, before leaving as quickly as he came.
“What’s his deal?” Bahorel asked, watching him trail off with a frown.
“He’s probably just jealous I’m here with Courf,” Jehan shrugged.
“Why, does he like you, or something?” Courfeyrac laughed.
“No, we just used to date. He’ll get over it.”
“Oh! You- wait, what?” Courfeyrac said, turning his head sharply back and forth between Jehan and the departing Montparnasse.
“Yeah. It was a few years ago. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a-“
Feeling like he should diffuse the situation, Combeferre stepped in. “Where’s your keyboardist? I’m dying to see his introduction to Enjolras.”
“Grantaire? Probably at the bar. I’ll grab him,” Eponine said, turning around to look for her friend.
But then, she noticed that not only was he at the bar, he was already making his own introductions.
“Oh, lord,” She said under her breath.
Combeferre turned to see where she was looking, and let out a sigh himself. “If you knew anything about Enjolras, you’d know that this is not going to work out well.”
“If you knew anything about Grantaire, you’d know that none of his interactions work out well,” She retorted. “And I’m his best friend, so I’m allowed to say that.”
“What do you mean?” Combeferre asked. “As Enjolras’s best friend, I have to know.”
“Grantaire likes to antagonize people. Particularly people he likes.”
“Oh, god,” Combeferre said. “Do you want to fix this?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Combeferre and Eponine left their friends to where Enjolras and Grantaire stood at the side of the bar, arguing.
“Look, I’m sorry if I embarrassed you-“
“You can’t say that kind of stuff to a stranger! It’s practically harassment!” Enjolras huffed, crossing his arms.
“Oh, please. I was giving you a compliment. Most people would love to hear that they look like the equivalent of a Greek God,” Grantaire said, seemingly enjoying the interaction based on the smug grin on his face.
“Well, I’m not most people,” Enjolras snapped.
“Clearly not, Apollo.”
“My name is Enjolras.” The reply fell out of his mouth so quickly that for a moment, Enjolras seemed surprised.
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Grantaire, or R to my friends.” Grantaire held out his hand that wasn’t holding a drink.
Cautiously, Enjolras shook it.
“And I really didn’t mean to embarrass you. Well, maybe a little. I just thought you were checking me out, so I figured I’d return the favor.”
“Wha- I was not!” Enjolras sputtered.
“So you just look at everyone like that? It’s a wonder that the world doesn’t just melt at your feet.” Grantaire took a sip of his drink.
Feeling like this was the time to intervene before his friend exploded, Combeferre made his way to Enjolras’s side. “Hey, Courfeyrac was looking for you.”
Eponine, meanwhile, had a different tactic for her friend. She slapped the side of his head lightly and said, “Don’t be a dick, R.”
At that moment, the lights dimmed once again, and the next band made their way onto the stage. Enjolras made his way back to the group with Combeferre, Eponine and Grantaire in tow. As everyone danced and cheered, he focused on looking anywhere, anywhere at all, but at Grantaire. He stared stonily at the band, at the wall, at the bar. Anywhere but at the dark-haired man who kept shooting him glances.
Eventually, Grantaire seemed to give up too, and spent the rest of the night dancing with Eponine, spinning her around so that’d she’d laugh.
Are they a couple? Enjolras wondered, before shaking his head. Who cares? I pity her for having to deal with a guy like him.
After the second band ended, the group wrangled Feuilly from his job and made their way over to a bar next door. Enjolras spent the night chatting with Feuilly and Bahorel, as Grantaire seemed to have enlightening conversations with literally everyone there but him.
“No Monty?” Enjolras could hear Grantaire say to Eponine.
“Nah. I think he went home to sulk about Jehan.”
“A pastime we have in common. Well, the sulking part at least.” Grantaire said. After a brief silence, Enjolras expected Grantaire to make his way over to where he was sitting, and his shoulders tensed. But the other man never approached him, and when Enjolras turned his head he saw Grantaire conversing with Joly at the other end of the bar.
Not that he cared.
After a few hours of drinking and hanging out, Cosette said, “Well, I have an early class tomorrow,” with a yawn. “So I’m gonna head home. Thanks for a fun night!”
Marius literally fell out of his chair in his haste to walk her home, and the couple exited the bar. With that, the rest of the group dispersed as well, with talk of classes and papers and shifts at work in the morning.
“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Jehan said to Courfeyrac, giving him a quick kiss. “Thank you again.” He and Eponine and Grantaire gave their goodbyes to the group though Grantaire quietly avoided any further contact with Enjolras.
When the band had left, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Enjolras started their descent back to their apartment.
“So? What did you think?” Courfeyrac asked, practically jumping as they walked.
“I really hate that guy,” Enjolras grumbled, pulling his jacket on.
“Jehan? Why?” Courfeyrac asked, his exuberance quickly draining. “Was it because of the drummer? Does Jehan seem like too much for me? Was it-“
“Not Jehan. He was fine. The keyboardist, I mean. Grantaire,” Enjolras spat. “I’ve never met anyone so infuriating.”
Combeferre and Courfeyrac exchanged a quick glance that Enjolras was oblivious to.
“You seemed to talk for a while,” Combeferre said carefully.
“He’s ridiculous. I don’t think he has a single care in the world. Who can live like that?”
“Not everyone has to be an activist, Enj.” Combeferre smiled fondly at his friend.
“Well, I don’t think I want to spend any more time with him than I have to. Jehan is lovely, Courf, but I think I’m going to refrain from attending any more shows.” Then Enjolras pulled his phone out from his pocket, and the bright screen illuminated his still red face. “And it’s two AM. You guys promised me we’d be home by one.”
At that he increased the pace of his walk so that he was he a few feet beyond his friends, eager to return home.
Combeferre and Courfeyrac took their time behind him.
Finally, Courfeyrac broke the silence by saying, “When do you think is a good time to tell him that I invited the band to come to our ABC meetings?”