Enjoltaire One Shots

Spy on the Inside

Enjolras took a deep breath before booting up his iPhone. He had to shed every trace of his usual self before eight thirty. That was when the ABC would be video calling him once again.
The phone pinged once, twice, three times, and his fingernails clicked on the screen as he picked it up. Three new messages, all from the friends who didn't really know him. Just like always, there all three of them were- Joly, Courfeyrac, and Grantaire. The ABC.

jolly_joly: Hey guys! Ready to chat in two minutes? (-:
courfeyrad: Yup! Can't wait!
bottles-up: Enj, you're joining us again tonight, right?

Enjolras felt his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously. Out of all the boys, Grantaire was his favorite- brash, clever, and handsome, with wild dark hair and a wicked smile. This was the young man whom he was supposed to be keeping a particularly close watch on. Grantaire- 'call him R'- talked so much of rebellion and anarchy that the group chat had been flagged by the FBI.

red_and_black: That's right!

Even though his assignment was simple- get in, find out what was up, and get out- Enjolras hadn't been able to help falling for Grantaire, just a little. Even now, he wasn't able to stop himself from combing his hair, shaving afresh, putting on a clean shirt, scarf, and jacket. You'll never see Grantaire after this, he reminded himself. It's useless to fall in love with someone you can never have.  Nevertheless, when his phone buzzed with the incoming call, he felt a little flutter of nervous excitement.
Joly was the first one on, his small face filled with a bright smile. "Hey, Enj! How's it hanging?"
Next was Courfeyrac, his black hair touseled and his grey eyes shining. "Salut! I can't stay for long, I've got Gavroche tonight, and he's helping me with homework." From conversations Enjolras had participated in before, he knew that Gavroche was the little brother of a mutual friend, a feisty eleven year old genius with an uncanny knack for finding trouble wherever he went.
There came a chirp, and there he was, dark hair swooping low into those wild green eyes that glittered with mischief. Grantaire flashed them all a smile. "Bonsoir, all! You look nice this evening, Enjolras."
"You're not so bad yourself, Grantaire," Enjolras quipped, earning himself a grin from R. The smile was nothing unusual, but it awakened the butterflies in his stomach nonetheless. He had to break the news to them tonight, before he lost his nerve. Even though, in doing it, he would lose R forever, he needed to be honest. "Guys...I have to confess something to you."

"You're gay?" Joly guessed, laughing. His brown eyes flashed with mirth.
"Yes, but that's beside the point. I..." He sighed, digging his fingernails into his palms. "My name is Enjolras Orestes, special operations agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigations. I was assigned to infiltrate your group chat and try to discover the meaning behind your talk of anarchy and disestablishmentarianism. When I did, however, I discovered merely a radical, easily excited bunch with a lot of powerful ideas.
"I befriended you, got to know you, and even fell in love with one of you. I'm sorry for betraying your trust and lying to you." His eyes filled with tears, and he lowered his head.

Dead silence for a moment. The only sound was his own sniffling. Finally, Joly spoke up. "Enjolras, we're not mad. Sure, it was a bit of a surprise, but we still like you." He flashed a reassuring smile.
"Yeah." Courfeyrac shrugged. "All it means is that the three of us have a secret agent for a friend."
A small blond boy poked his head into the frame beside Courfeyrac. This, Enjolras gathered, must be Gavroche. "You're a secret agent?" He crowed, eyes alight with awe. He had a pair of wide-framed black glasses, not unlike Enjolras's own, perched on his petite nose.

Courfeyrac chuckled. "I have to go now, but I'll text you guys tomorrow, alright?" He turned to the little boy. "Gavroche, it's time for bed."
"If it was Eponine, you'd let her stay up!" Gavroche rolled his eyes, disgusted with such arbitrary constructs as bedtime.
"Yes," Courfeyrac explained patiently, "because Ep is nineteen and you're eleven." His portion of the screen went dark and silent.
Joly snickered and brushed a stray hair out of his eyes. "I should go as well. I have a five page paper due tomorrow that I haven't even started yet." He waved to Grantaire and Enjolras, leaving the two of them alone.

"Hey, Enj...?" Grantaire's voice was soft and hesitant. He raised one dark eyebrow, seeming concerned. "Who did you mean?"
Enjolras didn't know what he meant. "Who did I mean when?" His hazel eyes widened in the tiny panel reflecting his face, nestled in the corner or the screen.
Grantaire bit his lip. "When you said you'd fallen in love with one of us. Which of us did you mean?"

Enjolras felt more than saw the color drain from his own face. He bit his thumbnail, an old habit he'd never quite managed to shake. "I..."
"Obviously not Joly," Grantaire mused, counting off on his long, spindly fingers. "He's got a thing for Combeferre. Courfeyrac has been pining after Bahorel since, like, the second grade. So that leaves...me?"
"You," Enjolras breathed, nodding once to emphasize his statement. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, which was slick with nervous sweat. He waited silently for Grantaire's response.

The dark haired boy gave Enjolras a hopeful, timid smile. "You're really in love? With me?" There was surprise in his voice- he clearly considered himself below the love of others, perhaps even as undesirable.
"God, yes," Enjolras murmured. "I love your laugh and your smart-aleck jokes and your smile. I love your voice and your face and the way you walk. I don't love your dependence on alcohol, but I love the way you get when you're drunk, all sleepy and cute. I love your eyes and that coat you always wear. I love you, Grantaire."
Grantaire blushed, putting one hand up to the screen, as though trying to reach through and touch Enjolras. "I-I love you too, Enjolras, no matter if you're a revolutionary or a secret agent or a...a beast in disguise. I love your geeky eloquence and those glasses you're always smudging. You're a dork, but I've always considered you my dork, and I love you too."

The two smiled hesitantly at one another through the glass screen barrier that separated them. Enjolras moved his hand up to meet Grantaire's, and the two stayed that was until Enjolras fell asleep.