#eurvdice

He wanders through the crowd until he naturally ends up in front of the man in question, still scowling ferociously at his phone as he types something out, fingers flying over the screen.

"I think I owe you a refund," Grantaire says, putting on his most charming smile.

The man glances up and blinks at him. “Sorry?”

"You’re not getting your money’s worth." Grantaire reaches out and taps the screen of the man’s phone with one finger. "Not if that’s more entertaining than I am."

“Enjolras, for God’s sake,” someone hisses beside the man, pulling on his arm and looking mortified. “Have you no manners at all?”

Enjolras slips the phone into his pocket, but he doesn’t look the least bit chagrined to have been caught out. “Sorry,” he says, and doesn’t sound like he means it. “Something came out up at work. Fires to put out. I’m sure you know how it is.” His expression says that he’s not sure of that at all.

Enjolras’s friend buries his face in his hands. “OhmygodI’msosorry.”

"Anyway," Enjolras continues. "It’s not my ticket, it’s his boyfriend’s." He gestures to his friend, who looks like he wants to sink down through the floor and disappear. Or maybe just wants Enjolras to. "But he came down with the flu two days ago and made me promise to take him instead. Because apparently Bossuet isn’t a grown man capable of going out and doing things by himself."

"Shut up,” the friend — Bossuet — insists, swatting at Enjolras’s arm. Even in the dim lights, Grantaire an tell that his cheeks are burning red. He makes a mental note to send Joly a backstage pass to his next big local event, to make up for his friend.

Grantaire can see his stage manager, Éponine, making a pointed gesture at her watch, which means it must be time for his next set. He gives her a nod and turns back to Enjolras, turns his smile up bright. “Duty calls. I’ll try harder to hold your attention with this next set.”

Enjolras lifts an eyebrow, unimpressed. Grantaire just saunters off and takes his place up in front again. The set list he came up with for this gig calls for an upbeat, raucous song next, to keep the energy of the crowd going, but he pulls a stool up to the mic instead, waves off Éponine’s frantic gestures to get him to come over and explain to her what the hell he’s doing, and starts instead on the ballad from his latest album.

It’s a long song for polar opposites, and there’s been a lot of media speculation about what girl (or guy — Grantaire has never been anything but open about his sexuality, and some of the media outlets actually manage to remember that) he wrote the song for, but the truth is that it’s for Floréal and her unlikely, straight-laced boyfriend. Grantaire started writing it as a parody one night just to make them laugh, but then it turned into something sincere when he wasn’t paying attention, and suddenly it’s been in the Top 40 for weeks and has kind of taken on a life of its own.

Usually he sings this song to Floréal, for Floréal, but today he sings it straight to Enjolras, and watches as he turns from exasperated to chagrined to the most endearing shade of pink. His friend beside him looks like he’s going to have an apoplexy of excitement over it all.

Grantaire doesn’t seek Enjolras out during the next breaks — he is capable of being professional, and there are people here who did actually pay money for a chance to be able to talk with him. And Enjolras doesn’t seem inclined to push through the crowd to find him, so Grantaire turns his attention back to his job, and his fans.

The performance ends late, because Grantaire is a sucker for enthusiasm and lets himself get called out for an encore twice. There’s still work to be done once everyone has left, though, breaking down the equipment and packing it up. And Grantaire has people to do that for him now, but he’s not an asshole, so while they get started he ducks out to the café around the corner to get coffees for everyone.

He’s tired enough that he doesn’t realize until he’s taken his place in the line that he’s standing right behind Enjolras and Bossuet. Enjolras has his nose buried in his phone again, so it’s Bossuet who notices him, breaking off mid-sentence with a squeak and a tight hand on Enjolras’s arm.

Enjolras looks up, frowning. His frown only deepens when he follows Bossuet’s gaze and sees Grantaire. “Are you following me?” he demands in a sharp tone.

Grantaire holds his hands up, palms out. “Pure coincidence, I swear.”

Enjolras looks dubious, and Grantaire has a moment of inspiration. “Look,” he says, “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot back there. Let me buy your drinks to make up for it.”

"That’s really not necessary," Enjolras says, even as Bossuet smacks his shoulder and hisses, "Shut up, Enjolras, oh my god.”

The line shuffles forward and Enjolras and Bossuet are next, so Grantaire steps past them to rattle off the crew’s orders to the barista, then gestures over his shoulder to the other two. “And whatever they’re having, too.”

She nods and smiles and gives Enjolras and Bossuet expectant looks, and Enjolras caves, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Once they’ve placed their orders, there’s really nothing to do but go over to the other end of the bar and wait together for their drinks to be ready. Bossuet keeps staring at Grantaire with wide eyes and going, “Thank you, oh my god, Joly will never believe me, thank you,” until Grantaire can’t help but laugh.

"Hey, so I was thinking," Grantaire says when they’ve all got their drinks. "Do you guys want to come back? I could introduce you to the crew if you wanted." His crew is fabulous and at least half the reason he’s as successful as he is today, and they don’t get anywhere near enough of the credit. But Bossuet seems like the sort to appreciate the introduction, and Grantaire still feels like he maybe owes him an apology for antagonizing his friend.

Enjolras takes one look at Bossuet’s brightening face and doesn’t even make a token protest, just sighs and takes a sip of his coffee with a resigned sigh. “Lead the way,” he says, and Bossuet throws an arm around his shoulder and declares him the best friend ever.

The crew is exhausted, but Grantaire gives Bossuet the trays of coffee and lets him pass them out, and they smile at him gratefully and let him help with their work and seem to appreciate his company.

Grantaire hangs back with Enjolras, letting Bossuet have his moment. He’s halfway through his coffee when Enjolras gives him a sidelong glance and says, “Thank you for this. For him,” warmer than Grantaire’s heard him yet.

Grantaire smiles. “Despite what Éponine would tell you, I do remember that it’s my fans who keep me in business. I care about making sure they have a good time.”

"I’m starting to get that," Enjolras says quietly, and actually smiles at him.

Oh hell, Grantaire thinks and feels himself tip right over into infatuation.

“Did you follow us, really?” Enjolras asks a few moments later, when Grantaire is trying to figure out how much Floréal’s going to laugh at him when he tells her he’s crushing on the one guy in the audience who doesn’t care about him.

"I really didn’t," Grantaire says. And because Enjolras is looking softer, more friendly, more receptive, he tries flirting again, giving Enjolras that same broad smile and a wink. "Don’t be disappointed. I would if you asked me to."

Enjolras hums noncommittally and sips from his cup. “How far?”

He’s quiet and subtle about it and his gaze is still aimed straight ahead at Bossuet and the crew, so it takes Grantaire a moment to realize that Enjolras is flirting back. He laughs, delighted and relieved, and slings an arm around Enjolras’s shoulders to press an extravagant kiss to his cheek. “To hell and back, I think,” Grantaire says, and it’s just supposed to be flirting, but it already feels more sincere than it probably should be.

*