“I won, fair and square,” Courfeyrac said with a smug grin on his face which absolutely infuriated Grantaire.
He thought back to the night before, where he had – stupidly – decided to make a bet with Courfeyrac, on who could down the enormous bottle of alcohol the fastest. They were simply having fun at the bar, and Grantaire thought he would win obviously, seeing as he was the one downing bottle after bottle of wine all the time. But apparently he had been too drunk at that point in time, and seeing Courfeyrac finish the entire bottle in a few gulps he could only look on in a horrified expression, momentarily forgetting about his own bottle which remained untouched. He had managed to drink his own bottle of wine generally quickly, but still finished after Courfeyrac, who after managing to gulp down all of his drink had slammed his own head against the table, the smirk not having left his face.
Grantaire simply rolled his eyes as he admitted defeat, because it was true, Courfeyrac had won. Not that it was the losing which really bugged Grantaire.
“I won, and thus you have to do my dare. I dare you to kiss Enjolras!” Courfeyrac tried yet failed to hide his grin as he nodded towards said person sitting at one of the tables inside the Musain.
“Please – oh my god I can’t believe I’m actually begging you now – anyone else? I’ll kiss all of Les Amis if it means I do not have to kiss him,” Grantaire pleaded.
Courfeyrac might as well have been sending him to his own death by making him do that. Everyone knew what kind of person Enjolras was. He was cold, serious and would never tolerate anyone just going up to do that, let alone Grantaire. He knew for a fact that Enjolras hated him, what with him only ever speaking to Grantaire to insult him, reprimand him. The only conversations they shared were full of arguments. To put it simply, he and Enjolras were not on good terms.
“It can’t be that bad. Enjolras is our friend, he wouldn’t mind it,” Courfeyrac sighed as he noticed the flustered look on Grantaire’s face. “I mean, he’s definitely been kissed before, it’s just kissing, for fuck’s sake!”
“You don’t understand. Enjolras obviously despises me! Why would he be okay with me kissing him?” Grantaire continued, although he knew there really wasn’t a way he was going to get out of this.
“He doesn’t hate you R, why would you think that? Don’t be a sore loser, come on!”
Grantaire sighed in defeat, knowing there was no way Courfeyrac was going to be swayed by his consistent pleads. He decided, Courfeyrac was right, it really was just kissing. He just had to get it over with and it would be done.
He entered the Musain, and seeing that Enjolras was the only one in the café, he sighed in relief. He was not going to do it in front of other people. Grantaire took in a huge breath and exhaled, staring at the blonde, who was clad in his typical red hoodie and jeans. His attention was focused upon his laptop on the café table, presumably reading through a report as he always was. And Grantaire was supposed to go up and kiss him. He shuffled forwards awkwardly, yet trying not to seem suspicious, plotting how he was going to torture Courfeyrac as he heard a faint giggle coming from outside of the café.
Their leader hadn’t noticed him yet, which was thankful, for he hadn’t come up with what he was going to say. He stood beside Enjolras, and he looked up when he had noticed him.
“What are you doing here? Do you need anything?” he asked rather irritably, owing to the fact that he was being disturbed from whatever it was that he was doing on his laptop, perhaps.
“I…um,” Grantaire mumbled.
This was a real bad idea, he thought, wondering why he had even agreed to actually do it. But since he was already there, he should just go ahead and kiss him, he decided.
“Erm, follow me?” he gestured for Enjolras to stand up, to which he had complied, gratefully. He led him to the corner of the café, and turned to face him. This was it, he thought as he opened his mouth.
“Um, Enjolras, may I kiss you?” he muttered, hoping that maybe he hadn’t heard him.
He had decided it was safer to just ask him before actually kissing him, but he had only just realised the flaw in his plan. If Enjolras did not allow it, he would not have any back up plan.
So, stupidly, he just decided to lunge forward and press Enjolras’ lips to his own.
Grantaire let out a small gasp as their mouths came into contact. Enjolras’ lips were soft and felt surprisingly nice on his own. He had only intended for it to be a peck on the lips but he realised he was kissing him for probably too long, and quickly pushed both of them apart. It then occurred to him that Enjolras hadn’t been the one to push him away, which was surprising.
“I’m so sorry! It was –” Grantaire started but was quickly interrupted by Enjolras’ mouth on his own again.
Grantaire hardly had time to process the situation as the blonde’s lips were really addicting for some reason, and he found himself kissing back as well. This time, the kiss was much more rough and passionate and Grantaire slowly realised that he was enjoying it. He let himself be captured by the moment before reality suddenly rushed back to him.
Wait. This wasn’t right.
This was definitely not how things were supposed to go. A thought occurred to him that Enjolras was probably possessed, or drunk, or something, and Grantaire most definitely did not want to take advantage of that situation. Not that he would willingly admit to wanting to continue kissing the blonde leader in front of him.
He pulled himself away instantly and was met with a look of absolute confusion. He did not think to question the expression on Enjolras’ face as he himself was overwhelmed with multitudes of emotions. Grantaire considered that all this was probably some form of torturous dream – no, nightmare – which he would just wake up from and completely forget it even happened.
“What was that,” Enjolras started as the confusion on his face turned to a mild crestfallen frown, eyeing Grantaire suspiciously.
Grantaire had apparently lost any ability to form coherent words and he just stood there, gaping. The only thought that surfaced at that moment was, run for your life.
And so he did. Grantaire was out of the café in an instant. It only came to him when he was safely out of the Musain that he hadn’t actually replied Enjolras.
That was all Courfeyrac’s fault. And he was not even there.
Grantaire had hoped that Courfeyrac would still be waiting outside but no, obviously he had chickened out and left before Grantaire could get to killing him. If he had survived the entire ordeal that was.
Wait, Enjolras hadn’t killed him. No, the leader had kissed him back.
Why the hell would Enjolras kiss him back?
Grantaire had immediately dismissed his reaction to be due to him being drunk, or possessed. But now that he reconsidered it, neither seemed possible. Enjolras was never drunk, and possessed? Highly unlikely.
He froze in his tracks when he arrived at a possible conclusion. “Oh god, I am so killing Courfeyrac,” Grantaire muttered to himself when he realised.
Courfeyrac had enlisted Enjolras into the dare as well! That would explain why Courfeyrac was so insistent on him kissing Enjolras. The blonde had only kissed him back for this horrid prank they were both plotting against him.
Grantaire wasn’t really sure why he was so mad. He licked his lips and realised Enjolras’ taste lingered on them; he thought back on the moment his lips had been pressed against his, how they had been so soft and addicting, how he had found it almost difficult to pull away from it. His eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully.
Why was he feeling those things.
He quickly shook off those thoughts, promptly remembering that all of that was just a joke – a sick prank that both Courfeyrac and Enjolras were pulling, but he could not help feeling the slight disappointment of knowing that fact.
Grantaire frowned when he entered the Musain for the meeting, seeing that Enjolras and Courfeyrac were already there. He immediately slipped into his usual seat at the corner of the café, hoping that neither had noticed him.
“Grantaire you’re here!” Courfeyrac’s loud voice rang in his ears and he was next to him in an instant. There was a huge grin fixated on his face, and he looked genuinely excited to see him. Grantaire was obviously not returning the sentiment, and groaned, rolling his eyes in reply.
“I’m not talking to you.”
“What?” Courfeyrac was surprised for an instant, before he promptly understood. “You’re mad about yesterday? I thought it’d have gone perfectly?”
“Perfectly? Are you serious? He – I – nevermind.” Grantaire knew better that telling Courfeyrac anything about it was only going to make matters worse.
“Huh. I thought he’d have…” Courfeyrac trailed off, which sparked Grantaire’s curiousity.
“What?” But Courfeyrac had already left his side to continue his conversation with the others.
He would have pressed on, but hastily decided against it. He got out his sketchbook instead, and began sketching the scene which unfolded in front of him, the other Amis chatting excitedly with one another. It was simply a hobby Grantaire had taken up to pass the time, he undeniably enjoyed it.
Grantaire occasionally glanced up from what he was sketching to find that Enjolras had been staring at him. Every time he caught Enjolras’ gaze, the latter’s cheeks would redden slightly and he would look away quickly, which Grantaire found rather odd, though he did not question it. He was, after all, still mad at him for what he’d done, though it was hard to stay angry at him due to his extremely weird behaviour.
The meeting went on with its familiar patterns, though Grantaire kept relatively silent the whole time. Often, Enjolras’ speeches would be constantly interrupted by him finding some part of it to argue against, but this time he kept to his corner, not speaking. He hadn’t intended to speak to Enjolras anyway, and he knew from before it would just result in those odd reactions. It was rather unusual, though the other Amis did not mention it, thankfully.
Grantaire had not been paying much attention and had not noticed when the meeting had ended and most of the Amis had left, only looking up from his next drawing to find that Enjolras and he were the only ones left in the café. He simply gave a small smile when he caught Enjolras’ eye, and quickly stood up to leave, only to be stopped by Enjolras’ hands gripping his wrist. He stopped in his tracks, though not turning to face the leader.
“Grantaire,” Enjolras began, and Grantaire could feel him shaking through his grip onto him. “I just wanted to say – um, I’m sorry, about – you know – yesterday,”
Grantaire rolled his eyes. He should have known before that this was going to happen. He was not intending to succumb to his lame excuse of an apology. “Alright. Apology accepted, now can you please let go?”
He knew his tone was rude, but after what he had done to him, politeness wasn’t exactly of utmost priority when speaking to Enjolras. Not wanting things to get any more awkward than they already were, Grantaire decided that it was best for him to leave. He was bound to forget it eventually, anyway.
Enjolras winced, quickly releasing his grip onto Grantaire, leaving him with a slight guilt, and he could not help but turn back around to face him. Enjolras looked hurt, and Grantaire noticed the sadness in his eyes.
“What? I mean, you were the one who kissed me first!” Enjolras sounded angry now, tinged with the slight disappointment and sorrow. “I’d obviously misunderstand that you did want to kiss me, so well, I – I reciprocated my feelings, that is all.”
This caught Grantaire off guard. He wasn’t sure they were on the same page, thus he tilted his head questioningly.
“Your feelings? Wait, what are you talking about? Weren’t you and Courfeyrac both plotting this prank against me?”
It was probably comical, seeing as both of them were now staring at each other in utter bemusement. “What prank?”
This made Grantaire groan in annoyance. Of course, this was all just part of this stupid act those two were putting up. When will they finally decide they have had their fun and it was enough?
“Oh god, I get it now! Stop acting innocent.”
Grantaire was sure Enjolras got the picture, but when all he got in return was a bewildered face, he sighed.
“You – you and Courfeyrac were pulling this prank on me, weren’t you? Courfeyrac dared me to kiss you, and I’d agreed, and when I kissed you you would kiss me back just because you guys thought it was hilarious, but it isn’t!” He spat out.
Enjolras, in turn, looked even more baffled but his expression slowly turned into dismay, which made Grantaire’s heart fall a little. He’d not intended to hurt him, he was just venting his frustration, which still remained unexplained till then. Why was he so upset? Normally Grantaire would just laugh it off as a joke. A thought lingered in the back of his mind, however, I might actually wish the kiss was real.
“So you kissed me, for a dare? Oh, I – um, I’m sorry I misunderstood. I should’ve known anyway…” He trailed off, eyes forlorn, causing a strange ache to fill Grantaire’s heart. He hated seeing Enjolras upset.
“For the record though, I wasn’t enlisted into any ‘prank’ you might be talking about. I kissed you back because -”
Grantaire knitted his brows in disapproval. This was not okay. He hurriedly grabbed onto Enjolras before he could leave, feeling his body tense under the contact.
The leader turned to face him, and Grantaire could recognise the tears which were starting to fill Enjolras’ wistful eyes. The cynic grimaced, it hurt him deeply and caused him much remorse to know that he had been the reason behind those tears. He kept silent, waiting for an answer, which came after a short pause.
“I – I’m in love with you! I’m sorry, I should’ve known you’d never return your feelings for me. I’ve got to go,” Enjolras mumbled hurriedly, and turned towards the doorway of the café, yet making no move to walk as Grantaire still had his arm in his holding.
The confession made Grantaire gasp, and his feelings, his thoughts he’d been bugged constantly by ever since the episode clicked to place. He flashed back on the kiss, how passionate the blonde had been, the look of bewilderment he’d gotten when he’d pulled away. He understood, suddenly, why exactly he had been so upset about that possibility that they had been pranking him.
He might be in love with Enjolras too.
The realisation struck him, and he could only stare back at Enjolras, eyes widened, wanting so much to be able to wipe the sorrow off his tearstained face. He could feel a pain radiating through his entire body, which only told him that he should fix things.
“Wait! Please don’t leave… I li-like you too,” Grantaire blurted out.
“Oh, uhh – wait, what?”
Grantaire knew Enjolras had heard him, he could see the surprise in his eyes. He turned Enjolras around to face him, and reached his arms out slowly, touching Enjolras’ face and running his fingers across his cheekbones. Their faces were nearly touching; they were breathing the same air. And he leaned in to press his lips to Enjolras’ yet another time.
It was different this time though. Grantaire kissed him passionately, conveying his feelings, hoping Enjolras would understand. Their mouths fit together perfectly, and Enjolras kissed back in the same way he had the previous time. And Grantaire knew then.
The kiss lasted a few seconds, but it felt long, and it felt real. They pulled back at the same time, yet Grantaire was now met with a dazed smile, so he beamed.
“Enjolras! Grant–” Courfeyrac stopped short, and Grantaire knew that he’d noticed their intertwined hands. The smug grin which formed on his face was probably the biggest he’d seen on him.
“So it worked,” Courfeyrac’s smirk not leaving his face.
“What worked?” Enjolras and Grantaire chorused in unison, then laughed. Enjolras squeezed Grantaire’s hand in his, which made Grantaire’s heart flutter.
“Oh my god you lovebirds!” Combeferre stepped beside them, staring them down, eyes suddenly coming to rest on their hands.
“So, lovebirds.” Combeferre’s smirk matched Courfeyrac, except that he had arched an eyebrow.
“All thanks to me!” Courfeyrac proclaimed loudly. He was met with confused looks.
“Oh god! So you wanna know why I made you kiss Enjolras?” It was directed at Grantaire.
“You asshole – you knew!”
Courfeyrac chuckled, eyeing the three of them as he began. “I made Grantaire kiss Enjolras – as a dare, not really. God knows how much they both have been in love with each other.”
“You’re a genius, I could kiss you,” Combeferre exclaimed, and shortly after blushed furiously. “I mean…”
To which Courfeyrac just gripped at his collar and kissed him.
They pulled apart after a moment and both had reddening tints to their cheeks, stunned. Enjolras and Grantaire exchanged glances and giggled heartily.