Chapter Text
For Enjolras, that late June day had begun like any other: he had gotten up nice and early, ate a small breakfast while catching up with the local news, and quickly fixed himself up in the bathroom, ready for whatever might happen. (His first mistake was thinking he could expect the unexpected.)
Like always, he checked his computer after finishing his routine to see if there were any important emails he had gotten during the night. Within seconds of opening his inbox, he made his second mistake: thinking that an email with the subject “IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!” would actually be important. But anyone would assume that, right?
Subject: IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!
Hi E! ^__^ Can u come to the Musain today? We need ur help w/ something…
— Chetta
Mistake number three: Getting to the café as fast as he could.
Café Musain, a lively place that was mostly underground, had been the base of operations for Enjolras and his friends for a few years now. Whether continuing club discussions outside of school or just hanging out, a lot of their time was spent here, to the point where it felt like a second home.
As Enjolras made his way down the stairs, he heard the familiar chatter of his friends, implying that whatever they needed his help with was not the life-or-death situation that his mind had anxiously suggested.
Courfeyrac was the first to notice he had arrived, and quieted down the others in the room as he walked over. Enjolras could feel that they were hiding something—not necessarily something bad, but hidden nonetheless.
“Enj! Glad you could make it!” He put his arm around his shoulder and guided him to the tables near the back of the room, where everyone else had gathered.
Enjolras greeted his other friends with a wave. “I got something from Musichetta saying you guys needed my help. What’s going on?”
The group quickly shared glances and a few nodded before Combeferre spoke.
“So, Enjolras, you’re an amazing leader of ABC, and one of our dearest companions.” His tone was reminiscent of a kid trying to butter up their parents before asking for a toy.
“...Alright? What does that have to do with this?
“Well, you worked yourself half to death this school year, so we wanted to surprise you with something that’d help you let off some steam.”
At that moment, Enjolras could feel someone from behind guiding him into a chair. He tensed up, beginning to realize that he might have been right to be a little anxious coming here.
“Maybe this is just me, but I don’t think being this weird counts as stress relief…”
“Well, duh, this isn’t the surprise!” Courfeyrac was the one to respond this time, and right next to Enjolras’ ear to top it off, making him jump. After taking a step back, he added, “We’ve gotta be mysterious if we want a big reveal.”
Having enough of this borderline-creepy bullshit, Enjolras sighed and asked, “So can we get to the big reveal, then?”
Courfeyrac laughed, before shouting out to the rest of the group, “You heard him!”
He proceeded to drum his fingers against a table as Joly got up and cleared his throat.
“Mister Julien Enjolras,” he loudly announced in a voice imitating a game show host, “On behalf of the Friends of the ABC, you’ve just won… a blind date at the town fair tonight!”
The group enthusiastically played up the reveal with jazz hands and applause. Meanwhile, Enjolras stared at Joly like he had just grown a second head.
“A date? You guys set me up on a date?”
“Well… technically, it’s more of a ‘We think you and this other guy would get along pretty nice so we’re getting you guys to go to the fair without knowledge of each other’s identities because it sounds fun’ thing, but it’s easier to say it’s a blind date.”
“Is that not what a blind date’s supposed to be?”
“Whatever, the terminology isn’t important.” Joly sat down on the table Courfeyrac had performed a drumroll on and continued. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to wait by the ticket booths near the carnival portion of the fair at 7:30. The other guy is set to meet you there.”
Enjolras stayed silent for a few moments, still dumbstruck over the whole “blind date” part of this situation.
“Am I allowed to get any hints about this guy’s identity?”
“What, you don’t trust us?” Courfeyrac responded in an unserious manner.
“I mean… Yes, you’re all trustworthy, but I know you guys well enough to fear there’s a non-zero chance my date is a possum.”
Joly laughed. “Okay, okay… No, he’s one hundred percent human. He goes to our school and is going into twelfth grade just like us—in fact, you’ve met him before, but it’s been a while since you guys last talked.”
I’ve met him before?
Enjolras carefully thought over the information he received, but he couldn’t come any closer to figuring out who it was. Who knew “human male around my age that I’m somewhat acquainted with” could be such a large group?
“Alright. I’m still not exactly sold on this, though.”
Musichetta chimed in, “We all agreed to pitch in for funding, so you don’t have to worry about money!”
“All of you? You guys can’t all really be in on this… it still feels like some joke.”
“It’s not!” Courfeyrac puffed out his chest and put on an exaggeratedly dramatic persona while he continued to speak. “You worked day in and day out the entire year, both vigorously studying and passionately researching topics for ABC discussions and events. Why would we not want to give our dear leader a gift in honor of his fierce efforts this past school year, especially when he had so little free time as a result?” The ending registered his speech as a well-disguised backhanded compliment, albeit a lighthearted one, in Enjolras’ mind—he really had been busy the entire year, causing his presence at get-togethers that didn’t involve club work or studying to become rare.
“This really isn’t meant to be a joke, I promise.” It was Jehan who spoke up this time around. “We aren’t expecting you to marry this guy or anything, we just think you could get along well with him, especially since he’s changed so much since you last met him.”
Their words sounded oddly persuasive—though since this was Jehan, who was right about almost anything as long as it wasn’t related to fashion, that was probably a given.
“Then I guess I’ll do it.”
Perhaps giving in this early was uncharacteristic of him, but what did he have to lose?
As instructed, Enjolras stood near the ticket booths at the town fair that evening, waiting for his date. Shortly after 7:30, his phone buzzed with notifications from Joly.
Joly: hey!! r u there yet???
> Yes.
Joly: g8!!!!! 1 sec ill check in w the other guy
After a minute, he received another set of messages.
Joly: ok hes almost there
Joly: keep ur eye out 4 a guy w a green beanie
Joly: and a nin shirt
Joly: chetta should be there soon 2 shell give u guys money 4 tickets
Joly: have fun!!!!!! :D
He put away his phone and began looking around. The sun still had a ways to go before it set, but the fair was already lit up by the neon lights of rides and the dimmer lanterns in market booths that lined the entrance to the park. Many kids and their parents passed by as they made their way deeper into the carnival part of the fair, along with a handful of people Enjolras could recognize from school.
After a couple of minutes passed, he finally saw his likely date off in the distance, being able to identify him from Joly’s texts. He walked up to the boy, who appeared to be looking around himself, and started to say hello—but then he took one good look at his face and froze in place.
Oh.
Oh no.
Forget possums or elaborate pranks. Throughout the day, as he considered potential dates based on the hints he was given—a guy in his grade who he was somewhat acquainted with—he made his fourth mistake: forgetting who could have been the worst possible option.
Of all the guys that went to their school, of all the guys they knew —why was his blind date Grantaire?
Perhaps this reaction needs context.
Friends of the ABC was a club at the high school Enjolras and his friends attended. The group, focused on awareness of world issues and finding ways to solve local ones, had been started by students a few years prior to their attendance, and had to fight against community members whose kids weren’t even in the school but feared their beliefs and actions were a little too… left-wing for their taste. But, after months of its founders reassuring officials that they weren’t going to blow up town hall, or whatever it was opponents thought they were doing, it was finally recognized by the school as an official club and given its own room.
When he was in tenth grade, Enjolras was appointed the new leader of the club by Feuilly, who had graduated by then but continued to support the club during public events. He made sure to run the club as best he could—whether it was actively researching current events, creating posters and pamphlets for awareness of their causes, negotiating their budget, planning events, or simply reminding people that the club existed, he was passionate about keeping Friends of the ABC alive.
And then Grantaire joined. Grantaire, who seemed ignorant about most issues to an absurd degree, who was skeptical of almost any proposed solution or event having any real effect, whose most positive contribution to the club was taking up another space on its attendance list.
Enjolras, though annoyed by him, was fine with him staying. Grantaire was a prime test dummy for his arguments: he didn’t seem to know much about almost any topic at hand, and yet could make rebuttals out of thin air. Many other members of the club had warmed up to him as well, since he was apparently a really funny guy. Enjolras was a little too busy getting irritated by his constant skepticism to really see that, though.
Their debates, though capable of derailing meetings if someone else didn’t step in to mediate, weren’t too much of a problem—until December, that is. Maybe the “holiday spirit” had the opposite effect on the two, or perhaps Enjolras had simply gotten tired of Grantaire’s bullshit. Either way, their debates escalated into arguments much more often that month, and ultimately resulted in the Great Incident Of December Twenty-Third, when they had a full-on fist fight in the school parking lot. That… wasn’t either boy’s greatest moment. And it sure didn’t help that a student from another club had recorded the whole thing and posted it on YouTube; Enjolras spent winter vacation desperately hoping that nobody important would realize he was the “prep” in the “EMO VS PREP FIGHT IN PARKING LOT” video that blew up that week.
Unfortunately, his pleas were in vain, and so he and Grantaire were promptly suspended when vacation was over. How he managed to get out of that situation without any long-term consequences, he didn’t know, but he considered himself lucky. Having to face an angry Valjean was enough of a punishment already, anyway.
Things went back to normal when he returned later in the week—so normal, in fact, that he barely even realized Grantaire hadn’t come to the following week’s ABC meeting. A while later, when it became obvious that he wouldn’t be returning to the club at all, Enjolras could feel himself get a little sad over it, though he didn’t dwell on why much at all.
They didn’t see each other at all after that incident, but why would they want to? After all, almost every conversation they had during that time would result in friction at best, and… well, you could just go to YouTube for the worst case scenario. Enjolras didn’t care if he never talked to Grantaire again—in fact, that would probably be the best thing for both of them.
Grantaire looked as surprised as Enjolras when he realized they were each other’s dates. He covered his eyes when he remembered he could move and yelled out in borderline horror, causing some passersby to look in their direction.
“No. No, this isn’t happening. This is a joke, right? Some stupid joke?”
“Nope!”
Enjolras and Grantaire turned around to see Musichetta, who had her hands clapped together and a bright smile on her face. “Enjolras, this is Grantaire! Grantaire, Enjolras! Though I think you guys already know that…”
“Of course we do! Why did you guys think this was a good idea?!” Enjolras felt his cheeks heat up as he questioned Musichetta.
“Because you guys haven’t talked in forever! You've both changed a lot since we were sophomores, you know—and that makes us think you guys could really get along if you give it a chance.”
Grantaire raised his eyebrow. “And the best way to ‘give it a chance’ is to set us up on a date?”
“Well, the only thing I really did for this whole thing was choose the location; if you want to yell at someone about the whole date aspect of this thing, go talk to our other friends.” Musichetta shrugged before continuing. “This doesn’t have to be a romantic thing, you know. And I can always tell them it didn’t work out and you guys can go home.”
Enjolras thought about it for a moment. “I think I’m okay with staying here. I put some more effort than usual into getting ready for this, so it would be a shame if I just wasted my time doing that.”
“More effort than usual? I thought you always looked this fancy,” Grantaire said with a small chuckle. Enjolras simply glared at him.
After a moment, Grantaire turned to Musichetta. “But I think I’ll stay too. Those rides look pretty sick and I don’t think any of our other friends are here tonight, so I might as well stay with Enjolras.” He placed his hand on Enjolras’ shoulder, which caused him to flinch at the initial touch, but he adjusted to it after a moment.
“Are you gonna be okay with R staying with you, Enj?”
“I’ll give it a shot. My place isn’t too far from here if I need to bail, anyway.”
“Got it,” Musichetta said before taking out her wallet. “I’m giving you both 20, that should be plenty for tickets and food.” After receiving their money, the two waved goodbye as she left the fair.
A moment passed before Grantaire took his hand off of Enjolras’ shoulder and sighed. “What the fuck are we doing?”
“You tell me,” Enjolras replied. “But it seems we’re staying here, so let’s get tickets.” He got on the nearest booth’s line with Grantaire following close by.
After getting tickets, the two walked around the fairgrounds in silence for a while before Grantaire once again broke it.
“...Y’know, Musichetta was right about me being different now.”
“And I believe it,” Enjolras said. “We all did stupid things when we were sophomores.” He looked away in embarrassment before continuing. “Speaking of, I’m sorry I choked you half to death during… that.”
“And I’m sorry I gave you a black eye,” Grantaire replied, looking just as flustered. “So… Can we start over, then? Break the ice, make this whole situation less awkward… Plus, I know glaring is, like, your normal expression, but it’s making me feel like you’re still holding a grudge.” He scratched the back of his neck and looked to the side as he spoke.
“Alright.” Enjolras fixed his face, held out his hand and simply said, “I’m Enjolras, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Grantaire shook his hand. “Grantaire, my friends call me R.”
Things got less awkward after that. The two finally went on some rides, which revealed that Grantaire was your standard carnival daredevil, while Enjolras had a tendency to point out any and all potential issues with the infrastructure of attractions. (“Enj, you’ve gotta stop complaining, you’ll scare people.” / “But people should be scared! Don’t you see how much rust is on that thing?”)
When they settled down at a picnic table for dinner, they were able to hold a conversation for a while about how their lives were going without getting on each other’s nerves, which was a miracle in Enjolras’ eyes. This Grantaire, while still cynical when it came to politics and prone to slacking off, was funny, interesting, and charming.
“Before we go, wanna go check out the games?” Grantaire pointed in the direction of a line of carnival games, filled to the brim with prizes.
“Sure, lead the way.”
As he followed Grantaire, he soon found himself looking at a stand advertising a milk bottle toss. While he looked at the prizes they had along the wall of the booth, which primarily consisted of large stuffed animals, Grantaire had gone up to play a round.
“Enj, you know how people in movies always win prizes for their dates?” He turned around to look at him, wearing a smirk on his face as he spoke.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that happe—”
“This one’s for you!” Grantaire winked before throwing the first ball he obtained, then another, and then the final one.
Whether by pure bad luck or whatever the opposite of divine intervention was, he missed every shot. Enjolras stared at him as he looked back at him once more, his smirk from before turning into a nervous grin from embarrassment.
“Out of the way, I’ll try this.” Enjolras walked up to the booth and traded a five dollar bill for his own set of balls. This time, he was able to win a prize: a gigantic stuffed raccoon.
“For you,” he said as he gave the raccoon to Grantaire. “It reminded me of your eyeliner.”
After a while, both of them were too tired to do anything else at the fair. Enjolras said goodbye to Grantaire as they both made it to the exit, but as Grantaire replied he quickly stopped, as if he remembered something.
“Wait, can I get your number?”
“You… want my phone number?”
“Yeah, this was nice, it’d be sick if we could hang out again soon.” He thought for a moment before adding, “Erm, not in a date way, I just enjoyed hanging out with you tonight and you’re never around when I’m with the other guys.”
“Alright.” Enjolras took out his phone and allowed Grantaire to input his number. After sending a text to confirm he typed it in right, the two parted ways for the evening.
“So, when’s the wedding?”
Cosette’s question—and the fact that she had been right behind the front door—made Enjolras jump. “What do you mean?”
“Your date. How did it go?”
“How did you know I was on a date?”
Cosette let Enjolras come inside before answering. “You hardly ever leave the house at night for something as fun as a carnival and you left out that cologne you wear for fancy events. Plus, Éponine told me that Grantaire got invited to a blind date at the fair, so we were able to put two and two together.”
Enjolras sighed and made himself comfortable on the couch. “Well, it wasn’t much of a date, it got too awkward for that when I realized I was set up with... you know. But we managed to get along a lot better than I thought we would.”
“Did you win anything?”
“Some giant raccoon plush that I gave to Grantaire.”
“Aw, how romantic!”
Cosette jokingly put her hands together and sighed in a dreamy manner. When Enjolras winced in exaggerated annoyance, she stuck out her tongue before laughing.