amen, amen | enjoltaire

Chapter Five

Enjolras wasn't a bar person, for several reasons. Bars were typically noisy, sticky places full of people high on liquid confidence, creating one of the least-welcoming atmospheres he'd ever encountered. Especially because he had stopped getting drunk after the incident with Jehan.

This is why when Courfeyrac and Grantaire begged him, wide eyed, to come with them to a bar, he initially refused.

"I'm not going," he stated adamantly, arms crossed and looking directly at Courfeyrac. If he focused on Grantaire instead, he knew that he would crumble.

"Come on, Enjolras, have some fun for once in your life!"

"You guys go without me all the time, why do you suddenly want me to come?"

"Well first of all," Grantaire began. Enjolras wished he wouldn't speak, because that meant typical unspoken social laws wouldn't demand he look at him, "we want everyone to come. And secondly it's been way too long since I've seen you actually have fun!"

"Getting drunk and singing karaoke songs isn't fun." That was a lie. It was incredibly fun, especially because the last time Courfeyrac and Grantaire sang a duet together it was I Can Show You The World from Aladdin, and Courfeyrac had bought Jasmine's outfit just for the occasion. The two of them had looked at him in that unmistakable cut-the-crap gaze he so often got from Cosette. If it had been Courfeyrac alone, he probably wouldn't have bent. But one look from Grantaire and he'd do anything.

"Fine," he sighed, "I'll come."

It was those two words that Enjolras deeply regretted the moment he stepped into the bar. It was so dim inside he had to squint to see, and the stench of alcohol overpowered everything else in the room. He made a face as the warm air from inside hit him, and Jehan, who was by his side, laughed.

"You're not used to this?" he asked, a smirk on his face. Jehan enjoyed having the upper hand.

"Not really, no. Not my forte."

"And what is your forte?"

"Bees," came a voice from a few meters away. Enjolras's stomach did somersaults at the first hint of Grantaire's voice from a few feet away.

"Of course. Bees over bars" he joked back, greeting Grantaire with a smile. It would be easy to assume that Enjolras would get sick of the bee jokes at some point, but he never did. Despite having completely forgotten why they began in the first place, each one made him feel special- like even if he didn't love him back, at the very least Grantaire cared enough about him to keep up a specific joke.

He had arrived alone that night, which wasn't surprising given the location. Enjolras had never seen Grantaire bring a girl to a bar, but he always saw him leave with one. If Grantaire was a predator, bars were his hunting grounds.

He didn't like thinking of Grantaire that way. He wasn't some savage beast and women were not prey to be feasted upon. Grantaire wasn't predatory. He didn't cause harm to women. But he was cruel. His nasty habit lead to cruelty and capriciousness and a weak outlook on commitment.

Enjolras always found himself focusing on Grantaire's negative aspects, because that was all he seemed to be. He yearned to find the positive ones.

Courfeyrac was already here. He was stood next to the stage, shouting something to the barstaff that Enjolras couldn't hear. From the looks of it, he wanted them to let him use the karaoke machine. This would be an eventful night.

Combeferre was sitting at a table nearby, holding a glass of Sprite and watching Courfeyrac with a smirk on his face. Combeferre didn't drink, but it seemed to be less out of choice and more necessity. Him and Courfeyrac always drove together, and Courfeyrac couldn't be trusted as a designated driver. The few times it was his responsibility, he'd forgotten and drank, making the both of them need to call a taxi to get home. Enjolras waved and the three went to join him.