Enjoltaire One Shots

The One That I Want

R stared at the boy who had just walked, ducking his head, into the school auditorium. He was definitely new- strange, as there hadn't been a transfer student at Abbasis High in almost two years. His sandy blonde hair shifted out of his face, revealing intelligent hazel eyes that calculated the world from behind black-framed glasses.
"Do you know him?" Bahorel whispered, nudging Grantaire.
"Nah," Grantaire whispered back, grinning and raising one dark brow. "I think I would remember meeting someone that attractive."

Mr. Valjean, the drama teacher, cleared his throat. "Young ladies and gentlemen-" he paused for a second for Bahorel to give their perfunctory eye roll- "and others, I would like to introduce our new student and the newest member of our drama club, Enjolras Orestes!"
Everyone clapped as Enjolras ascended the stage. Grantaire felt a little thrill of excitement when the blonde boy stood next to him. He tried to keep his cool, however, crossing one grey Converse sneaker over the other and looking a little away. He didn't want to give the new boy the wrong impression and make him feel uncomfortable.

"Say something," Joly hissed, elbowing Grantaire in the ribs. His smile had a teasing, mischievous cast to it.
Grantaire obliged, scuffing out a mark on the floor. He popped the collar of his leather jacket and looked Enjolras up and down. "Who are you, what are you doing in my theatre program, and why are you so hot?"
The group of boys behind him burst out laughing, but Enjolras seemed unperturbed. He gave R a charming, inquisitive smile. "Your theatre program, huh?" There was a 'who died and made you king?' expression on his face.

"As a senior, it is indeed mine. I'm playing Danny, and you are whom?" He gave a crooked smile.
Enjolras gave an approving nod. "Vince Fontaine, at your service." He made a playful mock bow. His dark blond hair flopped in his eyes, and R laughed out loud.
Mr. Valjean clapped three times. "Alright, Azelma, could you please start us off?"

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Opening night, and everyone was practically vibrating with nervous excitement. The energy level in the green room was so high that the vanity bulbs flickered- off, on, off, on.
Eponine leaned against the wall, her pink satin jacket crinkling as she did so. She rolled on her mascara, her eyes looking as high up as they could. "You guys all ready?"
"Course we are, Rizz," Marius cracked from his place on the floor, resting his head on Joly's fluffy North Face jacket. His own black leather one was pushed up to his shoulderblades, and one of Grantaire's cigarettes was tucked behind his ear. "Don't worry about it."
Eponine pretended to blow smoke into the air. "Shut your trap, Kenickie, 'fore I make you." They all dissolved in giggles, too keyed up to say much of anything beyond Mr. Valjean's character exercises.

Joly strummed his guitar, cradling it against his chest. The discordant notes rose above the humming voices, above the lilt of vocal warmups and the hiss of hairspray cans. "This is going to be a great night."
"Opening night," Bahorel mused from where they were scrolling through their tumblr feed. "There's nothing like it."
Grantaire swaggered over, his dark hair gelled up into a fifties-appropriate swoop. "T-Birds, Pink Ladies, you ready to rock?" The group exchanged high fives and cheers, all except Joly, who swallowed another cough drop from the stash in his back pocket.

Combeferre came tearing into the room, Mr. Valjean at his heels. While all of his peers had auditioned for the musical, Combeferre had elected to be the stage manager instead. Both of them looked more than a little frazzled.
"What's wrong?" Marius sat up, dislodging the cigarette behind his ear. He was excellent at reading expressions, and had very quickly picked up on the fact that something was amiss.
"Cosette has lost her voice entirely is what's wrong!" Mr. Valjean was more than a little distraught. "I didn't think to cast understudies this year, and now we have no one to play Sandy! We'll have to cancel the production-"

Enjolras raised a shy hand, waving it a little, from his seat in the corner. His cheeks were so pink, from the heat of his embarrassment, that they looked like they were covered in blood. "E-excuse me? Mr. Valjean?"
Mr. Valjean broke off in the middle of his sentence. "Yes, Enjolras?"
"I know the part, sir." The blonde boy gave a modest smile. "I know the music and the lines and the choreography. This is my favorite show ever, and I would love a chance to perform in a leading role."

"Well, let's hear you, then." Mr. Valjean nodded at Combeferre, who hummed a note. "Sing a scale or two for us."
Enjolras obliged, opening his mouth and singing a warm, mellifluous scale, up and then down again. Grantaire unashamedly stared at him, at this boy who filled himself up with golden song. Mr. Valjean applauded sharply. "Alright, that'll do, then. Combeferre, go ask Jehan to find some costume options, please."
"Nice, Enj," Bahorel whooped appreciatively. "I can't wait to see you in Cosette's finale costume..."
Eponine calmly stepped on their foot with her black heels. "Jehan will come through so he doesn't have to wear the spandex catsuit. Don't worry about it, E."

Enjolras was gone, however- he had followed Combeferre and Mr. Valjean into the costume room, where Jehan was no doubt fitting him for leftover bits and pieces from past shows.
Grantaire idly flicked through his phone for a few moments, nervously watching the clock in the top corner. Two minutes to showtime.
"Do you think this looks alright?" Enjolras stood on R's left, blushing profusely. His messy blonde hair was pulled back in a stubby ponytail at the back of his neck, with a few loose strands kissing his cheeks. Jehan had definitely delivered, outfitting him in a white shirt, cuffed blue skinny jeans, and a long yellow cardigan with tiny flowers embroidered on the lapel.
"Oh yeah," Grantaire managed, feeling his cheeks heat up. "I think it looks perfect."

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Now, somehow, they'd made it here. The last number, the song Cosette had never quite managed to get the hand of. Grantaire shrugged the white and red Rydell High varsity jacket on over his black t-shirt and jeans. There wasn't much time left until the stage kiss.
With a dull click, the actors onstage were blinded by the klieg lights. Everyone ran through the rote, teasing lines. R felt like he was on autopilot, going through prerecorded motions- and then, Enjolras walked onstage.
His hair had been released from its ponytail and now hung loose, wild, around his shoulders. He wore a tight black t-shirt and matching skinny jeans, and a pair of gleaming white Converse.
"S-Sandy," Grantaire stammered, brushing a stray bit of hair out of his eyes. "Y-you look amazing."
Enjolras pursed his lips, grinning. "Tell me about it, stud."

Grantaire began to sing, feeling a fresh burst of energy to perform. Marius caught the jacket he threw with ease- only the night before, he'd dropped it off the front edge of the stage, where it had promptly been stepped on by Combeferre.
As they raced along the stage, there was a palpable excitement coursing between them. This was what Mr. Valjean was always talking about. This was stage chemistry. As the song drew to a close, they met in the center, on the little star of orange spiking tape.

R closed his eyes. This was where the kiss was supposed to happen, and he was both looking forward to and dreading it. With Cosette, they had only practiced this a few times, because she didn't want to make Marius jealous and because R was gay. With Enjolras, however, this was the first time running any of the show together. Much as Grantaire wanted it to mean something, if it didn't, he would try his hardest not to show his disappointment.

"You're the one that I want," Enjolras finished. He gave R a hopeful smile, and then leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It definitely was more than a stage kiss. There was a magic to it- the magic of the theatre, and it ran through their veins as they kissed amid cheers under the hot stage lights.