Chapter Text
Enjolras remembered the day they met— it was rainy and the lights in the cafe had dimmed with the weather. It was humid, but not hot. It was a regular night, until it wasn’t. His phone had buzzed in his pocket.
Jehan: hey im bringing sum1 tn lol.
Jehan: its my friend who mayb had a little too much fun
Jehan: daydrinking…
Jehan: ill try to keep him quiet.
Enjolras sighed. These kinds of things seemed to happen a lot, but maybe Jehan just attracted these types. He texted back a quick Okay and finished setting up for the meeting. Slowly, people began to trickle in. When Jehan arrived, they dragged in a stumbling figure. This must be the friend.
Jehan’s friend made eye contact with Enjolras and offered up a weak salute.
“You must be the commander,” the stranger said. “It’s an honor to meet you.” Enjolras stifled an eye-roll.
“It’s a pleasure.” Enjolras said in response.
Jehan tugged the stranger into a corner seat, plopping him down on one of the round stools. Through the quiet bustle, Enjolras could hear their conversation. Jehan was speaking sternly to their friend, pleading for decency. Enjolras tried not to laugh, but something about it was entertaining.
“R, I am begging you to try and be normal tonight. And nice. I think kindness could be one of your strengths if you worked on it. I just don’t want to lose these people. They’re super cool. Please don’t mess around too much.” Jehan said. They sat down next to their friend with a deeply stressed expression, almost bordering exasperated.
“Dude,” the friend said. “I can be so normal. And I’m always nice. It’s not my fault if they can’t understand how my nice-ness comes across.”
“The second we walked in, you insulted Enjolras. These people are literally my friends. I work with some of them and I have known them forever . Please just try. I’m going to get you some water. You want anything else?”
“A fuck to give?” Grantaire laughed at his own joke and Jehan grimaced. Enjolras couldn’t take his eyes off of him, watching the way his shoulders shook with laughter. There was something immediately enticing about him; the air of mystery would soon be shattered, and Enjolras knew that, but it didn’t keep him from looking.
“You’re asking the wrong person.” Jehan’s voice was flat.
Jehan walked away from their friend and Enjolras took a moment to observe this stranger. He had unruly black ringlets that spilled over his face in an inky splendor that the rain outside may have contributed to. His wet t-shirt clung to his body in a way that felt almost indecent and the lights reflected off his damp skin. Enjolras noticed a couple of tattoos and made a mental note to ask Jehan about them later— they knew everything, so they would be able to explain the tattoos without Enjolras having to speak to that guy ever again. How can someone show up nearly- uninvited and immediately behave the way he was? It was abhorrent. Enjolras felt mocked already and the meeting had yet to begin.
Jehan’s friend yawned and stretched out his arms revealing more tattoos— these ones seemed to match each other and were mirrored on his hip bones. Enjolras had to look away; this was bad. Enjolras was glued to him. This was very bad. Not only was Jehan’s friend an asshole, he was unfortunately very much Enjolras’s type. Enjolras felt a tap on the shoulder.
“I’m going to apologize in advance for him.” It was Jehan. They seemed frustrated; their lips formed a tense, tight line and their eyes were narrowed in annoyance. Enjolras had to wonder how the two of them had come together.
“It’s okay.” Enjolras said stiffly. “What’s his problem?”
“Grantaire is his own person. He’s his own thing,” Jehan said, “That’s the best way I can even try to describe him. He works at the taproom down the road and I found him trying to drive himself across town after his shift this evening. One too many shift beers or something. I couldn’t let him, and I also promised you that I would be here tonight. So please just ignore anything and everything he says to you.”
Great , Enjolras thought. Not only is this guy an asshole, but he’s also a dumbass. This is so awful already. Simultaneously, he spun Grantaire’s name around in his head, feeling the phonemes form and balance on his tongue, and committed that feeling and those sounds to memory with the tattoos he wanted to ignore.
“Just keep him quiet. And away from me.”
Enjolras may have been coming on far too strong. But he may also be right— his intuition was typically right on the nose. Enjolras hardly ever got the wrong first impression, and when he was wrong, he always, always, always owned up to it. Regarding Grantaire, if Enjolras was wrong in the end, he would absolutely eat his words.
“What’s wrong?” Jehan seemed to be studying the grimace on Enjolras’s face; they couldn’t quite figure out what the strain was all about. Grantaire wasn’t that bad— sure, he had his own issues, but he wasn’t a hellion. Most of the time.
“I just… can’t deal with that tonight.”
What Enjolras really couldn’t deal with was Grantaire’s stare burning lasers through his skin. Grantaire’s gaze cast heat through the fabric of Enjolras’s shirt and he was turning red from being under the microscope. I need him to leave me the fuck alone . It was daunting.
“I’ll try my best.”
Jehan seemed very earnest about this. They walked back to Grantaire— that was his name— and handed him a glass of water. They sat back down and Enjolras cleared his throat. While he had been ruminating, it seemed everyone else had arrived.
“Well, let’s go ahead and get started.” Enjolras said. “Tonight, we have to finish figuring out and planning our voter registration drive, which is happening on the twelfth at the Commons. The volunteer sign-up is still on the GroupMe. If you scroll back a little bit, you should see the Google Form. Does anyone have any concerns about the drive?”
Grantaire seemed to be staring at him and Enjolras wished that it made him uncomfortable, but instead, he met Grantaire’s gaze. Enjolras’s eyes locked with Grantaire’s stare and looked at him with an upturned mouth, saying Challenge me. Give me a fight. I dare you.
At least that’s how Grantaire interpreted it.
“I have a question,” Grantaire called out. “Do you think this shit will like… actually work? Like, do you think it will actually change everything if you get ten more college students to register to vote?”
Jehan held in a breath. Fuck . They smacked Grantaire on the arm and Grantaire didn’t even flinch, instead, he grew bolder. Grantaire prepared himself for the battle.
“I’m serious.” Grantaire said. Enjolras waited a moment before even trying to respond.
“Democracy is the crux of society,” he managed to get out. “And I believe that change can start with just one person.” Enjolras turned on his strongest leadership tone— he was, after all, charming. He cleared his throat and geared up for the debate.
Grantaire laughed from the depths of his body at that and Enjolras only grew more enraged and more enraptured. Enjolras felt his stomach start to turn about as rage and desire shifted into nausea. He swallowed it down.
“So you think that you could change the world if it were just you?”
Grantaire cocked an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms, giving Enjolras his own look that said Challenge me. Give me a fight. I dare you. Enjolras didn’t take the bait.
“No, that is not what I said. Does anyone else have any questions? Anything about the drive itself?” He tried to move the conversation onward and continue with what was actually important.
“I do have another question,” Grantaire butted in. “Does-”
Jehan wrapped their hands around Grantaire’s arm and squeezed a warning. This time, it seemed that Grantaire actually listened because he pursed his lips shut immediately and took a sip of his water. Enjolras was unfortunately distracted by the line where Grantaire’s shirt met the skin on his arm. His biceps were sneaking out of the sleeves of his shirt and Enjolras made himself look away again. Was this guy really that attractive or had he just gone without for that long?
The room stayed silent. Enjolras cleared his throat again.
“Okay, if nobody has any questions, let’s get into some details. We talked about giving out snacks and stuff, what is everyone able to contribute? If you don’t know now, just put it in the GroupMe, but I’ll take some stuff down now.”
Enjolras felt relief wash over him knowing that this meeting was getting back on track. If he let every single asshole on the planet get him down, he would get nowhere; if he could center his friends, he could change the world.
“I can bake some cookies!” Jehan pitched in.
“I was thinking of buying a case or two of waters to bring, but I don’t have a cooler or anything to keep them cold.” Combeferre said.
“I have a cooler, don’t worry about it.” Courfeyrac said back.
“Are we really going to use your frat cooler for this?” Combeferre responded. “I mean, if nobody else has one, we can, it won’t be a problem. I just think it could be offputting.”
The group hadn’t been fraternity-aged in many years, but Courfeyrac clung to his frat cooler like it was the only thing keeping any memory intact. It was just as endearing as it was pathetic. Although much time had passed, Courfeyrac’s cooler kept them connected to the kids that they used to be. Les Amis thought their connection to their youthfulness was what kept their fire going, but Grantaire must have found it entertaining as he seemed to stifle a laugh from the back of the room.
The rest of the meeting slid by with minimal tension, but of course, Grantaire could only stay silent for so long. He had held his tongue for the most part, but that meant it had just been building up. He spent the bulk of the meeting rocking side-to-side on the stool and fiddling with his hands, keeping Enjolras’s attention with his movement in the back of the room. Enjolras had tried not to stare— he tried to wrap everything up so he could go outside, maybe get some fresh air, maybe smoke a cigarette, even though he had recently traded tobacco for cloves. Enjolras really had tried, but there was something magnetic about Grantaire that just kept begging for Enjolras’s time.
“Okay, with everything being set in place now, does anyone have any questions, comments, or concerns?” Enjolras asked. He suddenly felt trapped in the room. It felt hot, his shirt felt stifling, he wanted to be out of there.
“Yeah,” A voice said. It was Grantaire again. “I do.”
Enjolras huffed. It was beginning to get exhausting and he didn’t know how much fight he had left in him.
“What is it?” He was so tired.
“Is it always this bad? Like, are you always this insufferable? Do you always seem this holier-than-thou?” Grantaire’s sardonic tone set the room on a quiet fire. His voice was a scathing critique of Enjolras’s entire existence, but the spark in Grantaire’s eyes told Enjolras that he knew it. He’s fucking doing this on purpose. He’s trying to get me riled up.
The room suddenly went completely silent and Enjolras turned bright red.
“Let me guess, you aren’t even registered to vote, and if you were, you would exclusively vote in write-ins?” Enjolras responded. He was trying to keep himself tame, trying not to give in to the problem. The issue with people like him cannot be fixed by people like me. All I can do is try. All any of us can do is try.
“I am registered, actually. I vote blue. But it doesn’t matter, does it? It’s all rigged. It’s all a popularity contest. Like I said earlier, getting ten people to register won’t change the world.” Grantaire’s tone suddenly matched the desperation and frustration in Enjolras’s, but he seemed nowhere near as flustered. Enjolras could feel the warmth flooding his body and the sweat pooling in his palms.
“But those ten people can help ten others. And those ten can help ten. The cycle keeps going.” It’s not that fucking hard to understand. Is this guy a fucking idiot? I need a drink. Enjolras was approaching his wit’s end and truly didn’t know how much longer he could take this discourse. It has to be exhausting being this much of a problem. It just has to be. Enjolras hated every single second that the conversation went on.
“That’s awfully optimistic.”
Grantaire was smirking now, the dimples in his cheeks scarring Enjolras’s soul. Enjolras hated every single second of this interaction, but most of all, he hated that if this guy were sober, he would absolutely want to fuck him. Enjolras tried to get himself together for a retort; he knew he was flustered, and he knew it didn’t look good on him.
“It’s not optimism, it’s a simple chain reaction.”
Switching back to matter-of-factness aided Enjolras in calming down, but Grantaire’s face staring back at him got him worked up all over again.
“I just don’t believe-”
“You don’t believe in anything, do you?” Enjolras’s words cut right to the bone that time and Grantaire stared blankly for a moment. Enjolras tried not to lock onto Grantaire’s eyes as Grantaire’s brain calculated his next response. “Tis not too late to seek a newer world, Grantaire.”
Grantaire’s brain sputtered out for a moment at the way Enjolras said his name and suddenly, he felt sick to his stomach. Before Grantaire could even think, his mouth was saying something that should have stayed inside of his head.
“You could make me believe. Maybe.”
Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
“Do you do anything ?” Enjolras asked. He stared Grantaire down momentarily.
“When I think about it, yeah.”
“Would you do me a favor, then?”
“Anything,” Grantaire said mockingly. Or at least Enjolras thought he was being mocked. “Whatever you want.”
“Then shut the fuck up and let me run my meeting.”
Jehan stood up and grabbed their jacket, tugging on Grantaire’s arm. They looked rushed and stressed, and Enjolras felt pity pang in his chest. Jehan was going to have to clean this up.
“I think it’s time for us to get going. Come on Grantaire.” Jehan tugged on Grantaire’s arm again.
“I actually think I’m going to call the meeting there.” Enjolras was infuriated, but tried to end things as smoothly as possible. He turned to his friends at the head of the table with him, “Combeferre, Courfeyrac, do you guys have anything to add?”
Enjolras was bordering irate as he asked, hoping and praying that his second and third in command would have nothing else to say.
“I think you covered everything.” Combeferre said calmly.
“Good. Meeting dismissed.” Enjolras tried to reassume his cool tone, but definitely failed a little bit. Enjolras snapped his laptop shut and started gathering his things, getting ready to get the hell out of there. But of course, he wouldn’t be able to.
“E, I’m so sorry about him. I tried to keep him quiet but he’s just,” Jehan looked frustrated to the bone. “He’s not normally like this.”
“Well what is he like then?” Enjolras could feel his annoyance rising back up again.
Jehan was quiet for a moment as they scoured their brain for an explanation.
“Like this, but not as bad?”
“That sounds promising.” Enjolras turned back to his bag, making sure he had every single thing he needed to get home, and more importantly, get away from this .
“Look, I actually think that the two of you could get along. You both have these really strong, awesome, passionate personalities. He’s an artist, you know— we could even use him to help us make posters. He’s really great at what he does.” Jehan wiggled their eyebrows at Enjolras, suggesting… something.
“So he does things other than get trashed at work?”
Suddenly, Enjolras felt someone come up behind him. Grantaire's breath grazed Enjolras’s shoulder and Enjolras felt dread overtake his mind, body, and soul.
“Yeah. It’s called a shift drink. Not that it’s really your business what I do, Apollo.” Grantaire stood close behind him, close enough to touch. Enjolras wanted to touch, but Grantaire’s demeanor and behavior destroyed his physical attraction. The urge to touch was overtaken by the urge to talk shit. Fuck , Enjolras thought. How could I be stupid enough to talk shit when he’s right there?
“Apollo?” Enjolras responded, baffled by the left-field insult and compliment combined. Was Grantaire hitting on him or was he landing a blow?
“You’ve got that whole radiant blond thing going on.”
Enjolras scoffed. Fuck this guy .
“You’re going to charm your way out of this? I don’t even know you and you just spent your night heckling me at a meeting you weren’t even invited to.”
Grantaire’s face scrunched as he furrowed his eyebrows, re-evaluating everything that he had done.
“Look,” Grantaire said. “I didn’t say that you can’t change the world. I just asked if you thought you could.” He seemed to be sobering up a little. Grantaire turned to Jehan.
“I’m going to find a way home. I know you have work in the morning, go ahead and head home. I’ll be fine.” Enjolras rolled his eyes at this; Grantaire was doing everything in his power to make this situation as uncomfortable as possible. It was one thing to be embarrassed in front of an audience of peers, it was another to be embarrassed privately, face-to-face, alone. It felt awfully presumptuous for him to assume that Enjolras even wanted to work this out with him.
“You sure, R? I can still take you home.”
Jehan seemed slightly unrestful at the idea of leaving the two of them alone— it could either end very, very well, or it could end in calling the cops. Something in their heart said to leave Grantaire and Enjolras be.
“I think I may just walk.”
Grantaire, stubborn as always.
“Well,” Jehan said, “I guess I will see you tomorrow. Are we still on for movie night?”
Enjolras stifled a laugh. Of course these two had movie nights together. Of course Grantaire wasn’t just an acquaintance in passing. Of course. This was going to ruin his life and he knew it. He hated every single moment that they stood there together.
“Yeah, I’ll see you then. Remember it’s your turn to pick the movie.”
Jehan nodded and planted a kissed hand to Grantaire’s hair.
“Love you!”
Jehan skipped away as Combeferre and Courfeyrac said their goodbyes to everyone else. Enjolras and Grantaire stood in the same spot.
“So what’s your issue with me?” Enjolras asked. His face was still red with rage and the humidity leaking in from the rain had sent his perfect blond hair to the frizz factory. He looked wild and distraught, beautiful and chaotic.
“I don’t have an issue with you, I have an issue with the system.”
Grantaire’s words cut deep; the system was what Enjolras fought against. It was what he had been fighting against since he was a teenager. The system was the enemy. They could see eye to eye on this if Grantaire would listen.
“Well maybe if you could be serious and try to understand-”
“I am wild,” Grantaire said. “I cannot be held down by the bullshit of the world, so I let it go. I’ve tried it your way, but it couldn’t work for me.” His face grew stern, almost like he was remembering something, before gaining a serious look that Enjolras had not yet seen before.
“Did you try hard enough?”
Enjolras’s voice was simultaneously condescending and hopeful; here, in Grantaire’s abandoned revolution, Enjolras was seeking his new world, Enjolras was seeking the core of Grantaire’s feist, Enjolras was seeking a loving, hopeful spark. Grantaire’s face stayed stern, but grew impassioned. He was quiet, almost as if he was contemplating on something to say.
Grantaire stayed silent for a second and Enjolras tried to pretend that the hushed fierceness behind Grantaire’s eyes wasn’t sickeningly hot. Grantaire’s serious face shifted into something different as he smirked at Enjolras, seemingly having given up on taking the conversation seriously anymore.
“I’ll show you hard.”
Enjolras’s face grew tight and tense, trying to set Grantaire on fire with just his eyes again. This is the most ridiculous thing in the entire world . I want him to shut up. I want to shut him up. Grantaire’s grin was venomous, seeping into Enjolras’s body and soul in a nauseating way. This is awful.
“You’re very mature, aren’t you?” Enjolras’s voce was tinged with bitterness and disdain. Grantaire’s face switched once more and anger settled into the dimples that Enjolras had stared at earlier.
“I saw you staring. You wanna know about my problem with you? You were glaring at me the entire meeting. It was like you couldn’t stand the sight of me here. You were acting like I was going to ruin everything just by being here.”
The pain and frustration in Grantaire’s voice was unsettling; how could a stranger feel this way about him already? Enjolras felt the blame of tarnishing the night rise up in his body like bile. He tried to think of something to say in response to Grantaire, but for once in his life, failed. His public speaking skills failed. His empathy failed. His fire died out, even if it was just momentarily. Enjolras was frozen with guilt and he felt the room go cold and quiet.
“You know, I’ve heard a lot about you from Jehan. They tell me that you really are the future, that you really can change things. But I don’t know if that’s true. You give up the second someone challenges your beliefs. How can you go about your days like this? You spend years fighting against an imaginary dragon but you have too many chinks in your armor for it to even matter. I’m not ruining this night, you are. If you really want to change the world, you have to get the fuck over yourself.”
Grantaire’s voice was dripping with malice, but the malice was only disguising his hurt.
“I just don’t understand you.” Grantaire said.
“That’s not my problem.”
Enjolras was cold in his response, the warmth from the sunlight in his heart dying off. It was too much. He wanted to go home. He needed a drink.
“What is it then? A pretty boy like you can’t handle laying eyes on me? You can smell my poverty? You can-” Grantaire was getting riled up and the fury forming on his face was sickening. Enjolras hadn’t been spoken to like this in a long time. He hated when people used him against himself. He hated when beauty and horror were pitted against each other. He hated everything in that moment. He hated how Grantaire was looking at him as the other man calculated the risks of this battle; Enjolras was tired of veneration. He was human. He wanted to be human.
“Don’t call me pretty.”
Terseness did not come easily to Enjolras, except for when it did. There was no possible way that he could reveal everything about himself here, there was no possible way that he could even let one detail slip without breaking down. He had always been taken at face value, but it didn’t matter.
“Why? Does it feel derogatory? Does it make you feel bad?”
Grantaire’s malice started to become just malice; it was no longer disguising anything, it was only venom.
“Just shut up and leave. Like I said, you weren’t even invited.”
Enjolras shook a little bit as he said that. This is the new world that I am building. This is the world that I am constructing. This is
This is
This is
He spiraled. How was Grantaire doing this to him? They had met only an hour or two prior. He didn’t know Grantaire. Grantaire didn’t know him.
This is the future.
“That doesn’t feel very inclusive.”
This is the new world that I am building.
“I’m leaving.” Enjolras started to turn and walk away, but he didn’t make it very far. Grantaire grabbed his arm, digging his fingers into the fabric of Enjolras’s hoodie. His grip felt like it was burning a hole in Enjolras’s sleeve. Enjolras was feverish at the touch. This is going to kill me. I will not survive him. This will eat me whole.
“Wait,” Grantaire said, pulling Enjolras by the arm to force them to face each other. “I’m sorry. I have no reason to be such a dick. I just… have trouble seeing what you see. I haven’t seen it in a long time. I don’t understand it anymore, I don’t think.”
“Then listen to me when I explain it.”
Enjolras tried to pull away from him once more.
“I don’t want any tension here, genuinely.” Grantaire was still gripping Enjolras’s arm, keeping him in place. It was getting hotter in the cafe by the second. Enjolras wondered how sober Grantaire was at that point— the meeting lasted well over two hours. He also wondered if this made him a bad person. Enjolras was also starving— starving in many ways. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him the way that Grantaire had. Grantaire touched him with a similar starvation, begging for him to stay, begging for his attention.
“Explain it to me, Enjolras,” Grantaire said. Enjolras almost fainted at the sound of Grantaire saying his name. “Let me see your world. I’ll try.”
“Can you try?” Enjolras asked.
“I have… a vague ambition to,” Grantaire responded.
“Do you really not believe in anything?” Enjolras asked; truly, it was the same question in different words.
“I could believe in you. I see everyone else does— why should I be different?”
Enjolras’s heart fluttered in a juvenile way. This was sickening.
“Would you actually do something for me?” Enjolras asked. Grantaire contemplated for a moment.
“I’m sure I could.”
“Sober up.” Enjolras said, finally attempting to pull his arm out of Grantaire’s grip. Grantaire refused to let go.
“I’m capable of that,” Grantaire said. “I’m almost there.”
They stood in silence for a moment. It was just Enjolras and Grantaire remaining in the dimly-lit room. It was just their eyes meeting. It was just Grantaire touching Enjolras, not even touching his skin. It was just Enjolras, sick with desire, sick with anxiety, sick with upset. The silence was shockingly comfortable, and they both understood the vague idea that this may have been the most quiet generated by either of them in a very long time. It was just silence.
“Are you hungry?” Enjolras asked after a moment. Grantaire’s knuckles remained white on Enjolras’s sleeve. Grantaire’s expression quickly shifted into anxiety, then shifted once more to anticipation.
“I could definitely go for some food.”
“Shall we talk this out over some food?” Enjolras asked. “I don’t really want to go out to eat though. Takeout feels dreadful right now.”
“Um,” Grantaire said.
“Would it be strange for me to invite you to my apartment for dinner?” Enjolras said. Grantaire’s hand was still on his arm.
“You want me in your house?” Grantaire asked. Something about the statement felt deeply self-deprecating.
“If you want to,” Enjolras said. “There’s no pressure, though. I know it may be weird and we have been arguing all evening, but I think it would settle the both of us.”
“Um,” Grantaire said again.
“I promise I won’t kill you or anything,” Enjolras said. “I would not make use of death to eliminate an opponent. I would rather them leave on their own. I won’t kill you.”
“ Or anything .” Grantaire repeated. He finally dropped his grip from Enjolras’s sleeve and trailed him to the car.