Chapter Text
Enjolras stumbled into the nurse’s office, cupping a hand to his face as blood gushed out of his nose.
“Yes, what can I do for you – My goodness!” The nurse’s voice turned remonstrating and hands hurried to steady him and steered him to a sink. “Have you been fighting, young man?” He shook his head and she clucked her tongue, pressing a wet washcloth to his face. “Two in one day, I can’t believe it.” Soon enough he was handed a scratchy paper towel. “Hold your head back and pinch your nose until it stops.” She guided him to a cot where another boy was already sitting. “Stay here,” she ordered. “My, my, I’m going to have to call a custodian for all this blood…” Her voice drifted away and Enjolras closed his eyes, sighing.
“Long time no see, huh, Apollo?”
His eyes snapped open. Only one person had ever called him that. He did his best to glance sideways. Sure enough, there was Grantaire, holding an ice pack to a blossoming bruise on his jaw. “We see each other all the time,” he said, his voice nasal from stoppering his nosebleed.
Grantaire scoffed. “Yeah, but when’s the last time we talked? Second year orientation?”
“Probably,” Enjolras conceded.
Once they’d gotten to high school, Grantaire had somehow slipped away from their group, falling in with a more popular and less academic crowd – though Enjolras thought he still talked to Jehan sometimes. He and Enjolras hadn’t really communicated at all. All Enjolras knew was that Grantaire wasn’t in any of his ultra-accelerated courses and that he’d developed a reputation as someone who would fool around with anyone.
“So, who punched you?” Grantaire was asking.
“A misogynistic asshole.”
Grantaire didn’t ask him to elaborate. “Okay, then.”
“Who punched you?” Enjolras asked in turn.
“Just some guy. His girlfriend dumped him and he found out that she made out with me
the same night.”
So, the gossip about Grantaire was true. “Oh.”
“Hey, what happened to the Friends? Abandoned once we graduated, or…?”
Enjolras shook his head. “Éponine has a younger sister who’s in the club. It’s still going strong. And her little brother, Gavroche, he wants to join when he’s in sixth year.”
Grantaire barked out a laugh. “Oh, Gavroche! That fucking kid. I wonder if he’s still crazy about dinosaurs,” he said fondly.
“I would assume so; most nine year olds are.”
“So, what do you have to keep you busy without meaningless shows of community service?”
Enjolras wrinkled his nose. But he was right; their club had been pretty frivolous and childish. “I’m president of the Queer-Straight Alliance now. You should join; everyone from the Friends is in it.”
“Well, I dunno, Apollo, it might interfere with my participation in the People-Who-Get-Shitfaced-On-Weekends Alliance.”
Enjolras huffed. “Fine, then, if you think you’re too good for my club –”
“Relax, Apollo, it was a joke. I’ll think about it.”
“You should. Like I said, everyone’s in it.”
“How is the old gang? How are Joly and Bossuet?”
“They’re doing well,” Enjolras replied, and continued to tell him about how the two accidentally asked Musichetta on a date within an hour of each other last year, and now the three of them took turns going on dates every couple weeks. They chatted about old times and Grantaire asked after all their old friends until Enjolras’s nose stopped bleeding, and he could look at Grantaire properly. He hadn’t seen him so close in a long time, and he’d definitely changed. His hair was as unruly as ever, but a little longer; there was a silver hoop in one of his earlobes; and Enjolras thought that Grantaire was shorter than him, which hadn’t been the case back in middle school. More than anything, he looked tired, with bags under his eyes and careless, sloppy stubble and what looked like a bit of smudged eyeliner on his lids. Evidently, the ‘People-Who-Get-Shitfaced-On-Weekends Alliance’ comment hadn’t entirely been a joke, and Enjolras couldn’t say he was surprised.
“And what about you? How’ve you been?” Grantaire asked at last.
“Fine,” Enjolras said. “Like I said, I run the QSA. I don’t have much else going on.”
“To the contrary, Apollo, I think you’ve got it all going on.”
“Are you making a pass at me?” Enjolras said sharply.
Grantaire grinned wolfishly. “Maybe. In all seriousness, though, you can’t have forgotten the fifth year dance.”
Enjolras blinked. “I thought you never wanted to speak of that again.”
He shrugged. “Well, I mean, it’s been four years. I’m sort of over it.”
“Sort of.”
“Yeah, sort of.”
“What does that mean, ‘sort of’?”
He had barely finished the question when Grantaire’s lips were on his. He froze and pushed his hands against Grantaire’s chest, sliding away from him. “What was that?”
Grantaire didn’t answer. “So. You still think kissing is weird, huh?”
Enjolras’s cheeks burned. “No! I just – I don’t – I’m not interested in a relationship that’s physical before it’s anything else, which I gather is what you’re primarily interested in.”
Grantaire bit his lip and looked down at his sneakers. Enjolras could tell he was hurt. He always had possessed a talent for saying rude, thoughtless things to Grantaire, hadn’t he?
“I’m sorry. That was presumptuous.” Grantaire didn’t say anything, so he continued. “What I meant was… Here’s the thing. I’m demisexual. I don’t want to have anything physical with anyone, at least not right away.”
“Okay. I get it. You’re not interested. Whatever. I was just taking a shot in the dark.” Grantaire told his feet.
“I didn’t say that,” Enjolras said, frustrated. “Do you want to go on a date?”
Grantaire’s head snapped up. “What?”
“I said, do you want to go on a date?”
“I know what you said, I just… what?” he repeated weakly.
Enjolras sighed. “I want to get to know you. And then, who knows, maybe I’ll want to kiss you. But not yet. Do you want to go on a date or not?”
Grantaire nodded, still looking shocked but smiling all the same. “I – Yeah, of course! And, uh… sorry I kissed you without asking. I won’t do that.”
“Thank you.” He pulled out his phone. “What’s your phone number?” Grantaire rattled off the number and Enjolras sent him a simple, ‘Hey.’ “That’s me. I’ll text you, and we can plan something.”
He nodded again, a crooked but gentle smile on his face. “Yeah, okay.”
The nurse marched over to where they sat just then. “I see you boys aren’t tending to your injuries anymore. Back to class, then, both of you, and no more fighting!”
They left together with passes from the nurse and Grantaire walked with Enjolras to his classroom. “Well, see you around.”
“Come to the QSA meeting,” Enjolras requested again. “We meet on Thursdays, in –”
“The library?” Grantaire finished, smirking. Enjolras rolled his eyes and nodded. “I’ll be there.” He looked like he really meant it, too.
“Great. Well… bye.”
“Bye.”
Enjolras thought for a second, kissed Grantaire’s uninjured cheek, and left him in the hallway, biting back a smile.