#enjorlas just give me one chance
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i’ll be here for the rest of the day
#angel talks#look at my man#enjorlas just give me one chance#revolutionize this pussy#enjorlas#joseph quinn#joseph quinn enjorlas#enjorlas bbc#les miserables bbc
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If You Kissed Me I'd Be Happy Enough to Die
i'm so happy to have finally written something for these two, but not at all the versions of them i expected to write about
this is based on ramin karimloo's enjorlas and hadley fraser's grantaire from the 25th anniversary concert, and also ramin as enjorlas in the 2004 west end production - this clip in particular where instead of how most enjorlas are annoyed at grantaire during red and black, ramin's grins at him. i saw someone on tumblr say aaron tveit's enjorlas is a gryffindor and ramin's is a slytherin and that feels very accurate.
read on ao3 and support me over there (and my other les mis fic that has like zero notes on here and i’m not bothered at all about it pfftt) (link to ao3 in the replies to this post so tumblr doesn’t block the post)
He'd done it. He'd finally cracked and done it.
Grantaire had kissed Enjolras.
What had he been thinking? He could blame the drink, of course he could always blame the drink for his actions, but he knew deep down the drink wasn’t to blame. Not for the desire anyway. He was a sorry, sad man, pining and in love with someone who would never see him as more than a friend.
And it was hard. It was so hard when there was those nights where no one wanted to hear him, no one wanted to sit near him and his nihilistic poetry, and yet Enjolras would look at him. He would notice him. When he'd get rowdy for a little too long and the others would drag him to his chair, Enjolras would give him that small grin. And it would give him hope. Because, perhaps that grin meant something more, perhaps Enjolras didn't even realise he was grinning and it was just slipping out without him realising.
But, Enjolras had to know, right? He had to know how Grantaire felt. He knew a couple of the others had noticed how deep his affections went and he silently thanked them for only teasing him about how much he liked Enjolras when Enjolras wasn't around. No one wanted everyone to fall out, and certainly not kicked out of the group.
Grantaire had long ago resigned himself to merely watch and never touch, for Enjolras was untouchable for him, untouchable to all but the sun ray's and the dawn's determination. His flushed cheeks and his raven hair and his wild eyes. He was everything Grantaire was not. What could Enjolras possibly want with him?
It had been just the two of them in the room. The others had already left and Grantaire often hung around until Enjolras resigned himself to sleep, sometimes just to make sure he actually got some. Some nights it was nigh impossible to tear Enjolras away from his maps and plans.
Tonight the papers were scattered haphazardly around the desk as Enjolras moved around the room, talking animatedly with his hands. He'd had an idea, an epiphany, and he was talking so fast Grantaire could barely keep up with him. He always felt as though he was barely keeping up with him. But the idea was good, they always were.
They were lucky to have Enjolras. Too often those with wild determination are blinded by their optimism and dreams, but not Enjolras. He was smart and cunning and knew when to be calm. And he cared about them all.
He'd spun around the room in almost a dance and when Grantaire had stood, he'd grabbed him, clasped his hands against Grantaire's upper arms. And he had smiled a smile so full of glee and joy and he was so close and Grantaire hadn't had any more to drink than normal but he felt light headed and heady and he could feel Enjolras' hands burning through his shirt and he smell him, was close enough to taste him.
He couldn't even remember moving forwards. He remembered what happened once he did, though. How could he not? Enjolras' lips had been so soft against his own. Soft, but unmoving.
Grantaire had snapped back to himself quickly, nervously laughing as if perhaps it could be played of as a show of brotherly love. He took a glance at Enjolras' face, but his expression seemed frozen. He's stumbled out a goodbye and out of the door, returning to his run down and barren apartment.
God, he wanted to drink until he passed out. Drink until he couldn't hold onto the realisation that he'd just ruined the best friendship, the best relationship of any kind, that he had. It would be so easy and the bottles were so close and tantalising.
But what would he do in the morning? He couldn't show up half way through the day, his head roaring like a beast, for Enjolras to pause and stare at him. Would he go on and act like nothing had happened. Would he let him stay? But ignoring him wouldn't be acting like nothing had happened. The others would notice. So what then? He'd be asked to leave. That seemed better, if he was being honest. Not being able to see him again rather than live by his side constantly ignored, loved even less than he was, if he had ever been loved at all.
He hugged the bottle to his chest and wept. His head fell to the side against the splintering walls. He'd go out with some dignity, at least, even though he didn't deserve it. Enjolras was always the first to arrive, so he'd arrive there before him and wait and if Enjolras didn't force him out he'd tell him he was leaving. He couldn't do this anymore, not when he'd pushed them over that fine line.
Sleep didn't come to him, and why should it? He stared at the clock across the room, though he couldn't read it at all in the darkness, and waited. The bottle stayed against his chest, but he kept his grip on it tight. The least he could do is save Enjolras the job of having to beat down a man who could already barely stand.
As soon as the run speared through the thin curtains, he unfurled himself, wincing as his body complained about being in that same position all night. He made a point of putting the bottle down on the floor and almost having a staring contest with it. He closed his eyes. He wasn't strong enough for this, but it had to be done.
The cafe was empty as he'd been sure it would be. He realised he'd never been in it while it was empty before, well not when the sun was up and shining through the gapes in the walls and through the window. The room was warmed as the light shone through the red flag Joly had hung up above the window, blocking out the rest of the world.
His hands were shaking. His legs were bouncing. God, why did he leave the bottle at home? There was alcohol hidden here of course, but no, no. No, he couldn't. He could just sit here and if need be grab one of the books that cluttered the room, everyone was always getting their textbooks and notebooks that is was normal for there to be piles of them around the cafe now.
There was a law book inches from where his fingers rested against the table. It was probably Courfeyrac's, he tended to leave things there the most. He wasn't sure how long he'd already been sitting here, and who knows how early Enjolras would show up. Perhaps he'd show up later to try and avoid dealing with him.
Grantaire reached forwards across the table.
"You're never usually the first one here," Grantaire jumped, standing up so he didn't fall out of his chair onto the floor. He'd been so engrossed in his thoughts he hadn't heard Enjolras opening the door.
So this was the end then.
"Yes, well, I thought... If you're going to kick me out I'd rather save myself the embarrassment of it not being in front of everyone else. And then you don't have to explain anything to them either."
"Kick you out?" Enjolras' brows furrowed slightly.
"However you want to call it. I know what I did... I crossed a line and I..."
Enjolras looked away from him for a moment. "Had you been..." It wasn't like him to pause mid-sentence. "Drinking too much yesterday?"
There it was, an out. Enjolras was giving him an out! He could just say yes and they'd laugh about it and everything could go back to how it was. But he looked at Enjolras’ eyes, eyes full of some emotions he'd never seen on his face before. Was he apprehensive? Did he fear Grantaire saying no? Dare he hope... that he would be disappointed if he said yes?
What a stupid, slim, impossible chance. No. No, that could never be it at all.
But he looked in Enjolras' eyes again even though it hurt and he knew what he'd always known if this came out: He couldn't lie to him.
"No." His voice echoed back at him in his ears. Enjolras just stared at him. "Does that surprise you? Does it truly? Some part of you must have... Enjolras, you must know. You are not blind. You notice things all the time no one else sees, and yet have you not seen me?"
Grantaire always dreaded opening his mouth. Once he started he often seemed unable to stop. And this, this had been bottled up for so long he couldn't stop himself and he could feel his throat closing up around his words and the corners of his vision turning wet.
"Do you know how I feel? Perhaps you were trying to be kind, perhaps you'd hope it would pass. But it can't... I can't... I would follow you forever, wherever. I have accepted my death and I wish for it to happen by your side. And I know what a folly it all is, I know that... For even if you wanted to love, even if you could love another man, what would you see in me? You haven't ever had a use for a drunken fool, and allowed me to stay anyway. So, I ask you now, if you would allow me to leave."
He took steps backwards until the table bumped against him and he slumped onto it. He couldn't raise his head nor his eyes.
How pathetic was he? Even now he was still asking for Enjolras' permission for things.
It was staying quite for too long, but he supposed that was better than Enjolras just walking out.
"You're..." Enjolras eventually spoke. "You're in love with me?"
And he asked it with no hint of disgust in his voice and it made Grantaire want to cry harder still.
All he could do was nod.
Black shoes came entered his eyes.
"Grantaire," Enjolras' voice was so soft, a siren's call that Grantaire couldn't refuse and though he feared it, he meet his eyes. "You're in love with me?"
Enjolras emphasised the words as though he needed to be sure, needed to double-check.
"Yes. Are you happy that you have made me say it. I'm in love with you. I love you. I have for so long and I think I will until I die. If I could ask for you not to hate me... But I do not deserve that. I don't... I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," The words spilt out of Grantaire's mouth as a river would burst through a dam.
His voice gave out to a whisper as he repeated his apology over and over again.
"Grantaire, stop. Stop it, hey," Enjolras' hands came up to his shoulders, brushed up and over his neck. His thumbs dug under Grantaire's chin, forcing him to look at him again. "I should apologise to you, I think, not the other way around. I had... suspected that you might... I couldn't be sure until last night and I was convinced I wouldn't see you at all today. We all have our worth, my friend, and I would not put any of us above each other, and I would be sad to see you go."
His thumbs softened against Grantaire's skin. "You ask for my permission to leave?" Grantaire nodded, ashamed. "I refuse to give it."
Enjolras' eyes were twinkling and there was a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth and Grantaire didn't understand. He didn't understand.
"What worth do I see in a 'drunken fool' as you call yourself? I don't think I've ever met someone more loyal than you. You doubt some of the beliefs shared here and yet you stay... You've stayed for me, yes? And when you come out with your ramblings, it makes me want to fight harder, even if just to prove you wrong. I think it makes the others feel that way too. I think there is something wicked in me that likes to see you get them riled up."
"I noticed you... don't seem as annoyed as anyone else does. You're always... I keep looking up and finding that you're watching me."
"Oh, do you?" There was Enjolras starting to grin again like he was waiting for Grantaire to catch up with him.
"Would you stop?!" Grantaire pushed himself off the table and into Enjolras. "My heart and my feelings are not a game. Stop being cruel and just tell me whatever it is I should know. You couldn't understand what it is like to love you. To love something so beautiful and loved by many and unattainable."
"Grantaire," Enjolras seemed exasperated and he didn't get to do that. He didn't get to be tired of Grantaire's feelings when he bearing his soul open to him.
"Am I anything to you at all?" Grantaire puffed his chest up, his nose now brushing against Enjolras'.
"How can you ask me that?" Enjolras' voice murmured between them. He reached up and put his hand against Grantaire's cheek, the way Grantaire had often done to him when they said goodbye for the night when he let his emotions take control a little too much. "You think you know so much about how I feel, about how I can love..."
"I wonder if you even feel love at all."
Enjolras' eyes flashed something hot and sharp. A dangerous sharpness that had Grantaire wanting to clutch back at the table behind him less Enjolras would throw him over it.
And Enjolras did move, pouncing forward and pinning him, trapping him, between the hard edge of the table and his own warm body. Grantaire didn't have time to take in the feeling before there were two hands on his face, one on either cheek, and a soft, burning mouth pressing against his own.
Alright, so he had drank that bottle last night until he passed out and this was all a dream. There you go, now it all made sense.
But... But the table pinched at the backs of his thighs, and Enjolras was pushing his legs open and his fingers were gripping tighter and tighter on his face and his mouth was hot and wet and parting and moving against his own and oh dear lord.
God, if this was his reward for not getting drunk again then he would never drink again. He wouldn't need to when he was so easily getting drunk of this instead.
They had to part for air eventually, and Enjolras rested his forehead against Grantaire's.
"Not only," Enjolras panted into his mouth. "Do I not give you permission to leave. I absolutely forbid it."
"I don't understand," Grantaire tried to plead at Enjolras with his eyes. It had been hard enough to think through the desperation and the guilt, and even harder now he was trying not to lose himself in the feeling of having Enjolras so close... And Enjolras had been the one to cause the closeness.
"Yes, you do. If everything you said was true, and I do not doubt you, then yes you do."
Grantaire's heart threatened to tear out of his chest at the implication that Enjolras could return any of his feelings. That his kiss hadn't been purely out of instinct or anger or frustration of pent of urges.
"You're not allowed to leave," Enjolras leaned back and let Grantaire try to right himself.
"I..." He looked up at Enjolras. His hair was pushed out of place, the flush on his cheeks spread down his neck and his eyes were burning differently. It was a subtle difference, but a difference all the same. "Alright."
With that one small world Enjolras' face lit up, that grin breaking out. "Good. So, you'll still stay behind tonight?"
Grantaire tried to blink the room into focus. "Like usual?"
"Well," Enjolras' grinned turned. "Perhaps not completely like usual."
"What-" Grantaire didn't have time to pry further into what that meant before the front door opened and their friends started to spill into the hallway.
Enjolras moved to go and greet them as he always did, but not before pausing next to Grantaire and sliding his hand around his wrist.
"I think that was also proof that you don't need the bottle with you, and besides," Enjolras' voice brushed against his ear as he whispered. "I'd rather not be able to taste it on you in the future."
The grin was clear in his voice and he clapped Grantaire on the shoulder before bolstering out into the hall, enthusiastically saying good morning.
What had Grantaire finally gotten himself into?
also i spent too much time compiling all my favourite enjorlas/grantaire moments from various productions of the musical, because a friend hadn't seen any clips from the west end versions and didn't know they hugged in it, so if anyone wants to watch that here’s the link (please look at it i totally shouldn't have spent an entire day on it)
was working on something else and started thinking of them and had to pause what i was doing to write this oops
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𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞; 𝒎.𝒕𝒍
✪︎︎ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 𝟷𝟶.𝟺𝟺𝚔 (𝚜𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚕)
✪ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗋𝖾! 𝖺𝗎; 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗶𝗹 <3
✪︎︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗋𝗌 (𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍)
✪︎︎ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ: 𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗌! 𝖺𝗎, 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌! 𝗁𝖺𝖾𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗇 + 𝗃𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇, 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗎𝖼𝖺𝗌, 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗐𝗂𝗇, 𝗑𝗂𝖺𝗈𝗃𝗎𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝖽𝗌.
✪︎︎ᴀ/ɴ: 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾!! 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗅𝗎𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 "𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗋𝗒" 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗌 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗀𝖾. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝘀 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍 here, 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗋𝗒. 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒!! -𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝
Theatre Glossary
Callbacks: Second step of the audition process, almost like a second audition but you focus on a certain character
Blocking: Movement and positioning of actors on stage during a performance
Dance Captain: An actor in the show (typically ensemble) that helps with anything dance related. Can help choreograph some numbers, usually runs dance rehearsals
Stage Manager: A crew member who is in charge of crew as well as everything backstage during a show. Whatever they say is a direct extension of the director
Stage Door: A door where the actors, crew, and staff can enter and exit the theatre
Tech Week: The week leading up to opening where the cast and crew do the full show each day in full costumes and makeup. It is extremely physically and mentally challenging and you can often end up at the theatre for 6+ hours
“Thank You Five”: Whenever the stage manager gives a direction back stage, actors should reply with “Thank you (direction given.)” This is to let the stage manager know that you heard their direction
Mic Check: Before the show each actor that uses a microphone will get the levels and placement on them checked
Notes: After a performance or rehearsal the director will give commentary (critiques or praises) to the actors
—
Ever since you were a little girl, bouncing in the velvet seats of your city’s theater while watching Les Miserables, it was your dream to play Cosette. From the lilting notes of ‘In My Life’ to her character that leapt from the countless pages of the book, the character (and show) took over your brain. It was a genuine miracle that your parents hadn’t hidden your copy of the cast recording, or that your best friend (Lee Donghyuck) didn’t duct tape your mouth when you’d go to his house after voice lessons and force him to listen to you sing ‘Castle on A Cloud’ with countless different interpretations.
After years of being obsessed with the show, you felt that it was a sign when your youth theatre announced the summer musical. An email with Les Miserables in huge red, white, and blue letters. It was challenging to not get your hopes up, even throughout callbacks. Even as the director tested different boys and kept you on to read for Cosette, you forced yourself to swallow the thoughts of ‘It’s me!’. When the cast list was finally posted you had to force your hands to quit shaking... Then made Haechan open it because your will didn’t work.
”Why are you even nervous, you know you got the part.” He grumbled, fishing through his pants pocket and trying not to throw up.
“The same reason you’re nervous, now open the damn list”
“I’m going as fast as I can!” If it weren’t for his panic, you’re sure he would’ve slapped you, “Okay, I have it.”
“Give it to me straight, Doc.” He rolled his eyes and scrolled, undoubtedly skipping past a lengthy message from your director.
“You are such a dork,” It was easy to tell how nervous he was, so you bit the side of your cheek and allowed him to read, “okay. Xiaojun is Valjean, Jaehyun is Javert..” You nod with your jaw clenched, twiddling your hands where they sit in your lap.
“That’s good, they’ll be good in that.” He nodded in agreement, swallowing hard.
“Yea, they will. Lucas is Thenardier, that’ll be funny.” It was becoming increasingly harder to speak, so you hummed an answer and hoped that he understood what you’re trying to say, “Oh no!” he groaned, causing your heartbeat to falter in it’s place.
“What?!”
“The girl who got Cosette! She’s so annoying, but also really talented. As well as hardworking, and she’s wanted to play this role for forever, and-” Realization slowly sunk into the lines of your face as you slapped your best friends arm.
“Shut up!” He started laughing, something huge and sparkly forming in the space between your bodies.
“She’s also my best friend, so...” It was impossible to not hug someone in that moment, so you threw your arms around Hyuck’s shoulders and hoped that he didn’t notice the shake of your shoulders, “Are you crying?”
“No...” You had sobbed into his shoulder while fat tears were fall onto his cotton t-shirt, “A little bit.” He laughed, a sound that’s familiar and comforting and wraps you up like a blanket.
“I’m proud of you.” Hyuck breathed, squeezing your body tightly.
“Thank you, me too.” The smile when you pulled away was beaming, soaring as high as your full heart.
*
Playing Cosette was everything you’d ever dreamed, except for two tiny things. For starters, there was the wig. Of course you knew that you’d have to wear a wig, almost everyone who plays Cosette has to wear a wig. You just weren’t expecting yours to be so... Ugly.
It was a nearly five pound mop of thick blonde curls, that would spend every single rehearsal tickling the back of your neck. It didn’t help that you were still a little confused on how to put it on, which caused the terrifying object to slip and slide around constantly. Pretty much at any chance it could get. The first time Xiaojun saw it happen he laughed so hard that he cried.
(”Xaiojun!” You had whined, trying desperately to straighten the blonde rat tail on your head.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I was just trying t-to sing at you a-and your wig-”
Needless to say, the most that came out of that rehearsal were some cursed images of your wig mishaps and one scene being blocked.)
The second, and much more pressing, issue was your love interest. Moon Taeil was a newcomer to your theatre company, but no one was shocked when he got Marius. His voice is technically perfect, you and Xiaojun had analyzed every note of his audition while waiting for the cast list. There was not a single flaw, then when you factored in his emotion... Any director would be lucky to have him in a show.
Based just on his callback, you figured working with him would be a dream. It was for the most part; he came in already memorized every single rehearsal and his voice was just immaculate. His chemistry was stunning... With every one else.
Maybe it’s because you’re spoiled with your lists of love interests, which consists entirely of your closest friends, but you just could not get used to Taeil. It was clear he felt the same way, causing all of your blocked scenes to be stiff as a board.
(”He’s not like that with Donghyuck! Why is Marius more in love with Enjorlas than Cosette?!” You lamented during an after rehearsal Sheetz run. Donghyuck had rolled his eyes while snatching Sichengs milkshake out of his hands.
“Hyuck, I have literally never hated a person more-”
“Stop whining, we’re talking about (y/n)!” He quipped, passing the drink back to your peeved dance captain, “It’s probably because he doesn’t have to kiss me, which is a real shame for him.”
“But he also kisses Emily, and they seem fine.” Jaehyun commented while taking his seat next to you. His addition caused you to groan, head sinking into your hands.
“Why can’t I act with my Marius! It’s so awkward and I can’t even get to know him! He just shows up, does the work, and leaves. Which is fine, whatever, but really? That’s it? No Sheetz afterwards? No McDonald’s? Not even a bag of chips from the vending machine outside the auditorium?! How am I supposed to get to know him when he’s just in and out like a ghost, are we even sure that he’s real?!” You’re breathing has turned heavy while your hands are gripping your wig cap braids almost violently, “Also my wig is so ugly and I don’t know how to put it on!”
“What’s wrong with (y/n)?” Lucas whispered, popping a chip into his mouth and chewing slowly while waiting for someone to answer his question.
“She’s having a mental breakdown for no reason.” Sicheng answered, snatching his milkshake back from Jaehyun. You were so busy ranting that you didn’t even notice the theft.
“It’s not for no reason!” You snapped, chin catching on the straw of your drink.
“(Y/n)?” Donghyuck began, eyes wide and sincere, “Shut up and drink your slushie.”)
The scenes were so flat, in fact, that you and Taeil were called for a characterization meeting. Alone. If you thought you and Taeil were awkward on stage, sitting on the leather couches of the green room while waiting to talk about how awful you were together was much worse. Plastering on a smile when your director entered was physically challenging.
“Okay!” She started, dropping files onto the cofee table in front of you, “For the record, you are both doing great. I mean really, love love love the effort. Taeil, you and Donghyuck are just hilarious, and (y/n) and Xiaojun almost made me cry the other day!”
“Thank you!” You both answer simultaneously, Taeil nodding his head while twiddling his thumbs.
“Of course, that being said there are some issues regarding chemistry.” A shiver runs up your perfectly straightened spine, “I just remember at call backs you two were mind blowing together, like seriously. Those voices were made to sing with each other, and your characters were just what I wanted. A true directors dream, so what happened to that?” Your eyes flick to Taeil, internally begging him to speak first. It almost looks like he’s going to, but the words die on his lips, “I know it’s awkward to talk about, but we need to be open if we’re going to make this work.” You look at your Marius one more time, willing him to speak.
“Personally, I think it’s challenging for me because all of the boys who have previously played my love interests were really close friends. Like Jaehyun, I’ve known him since we were in diapers so it wasn’t... Weird, for either of us.” You turn to Taeil, who’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “It’s not that I don’t like you or anything, I do! You’re very talented; I just don’t know you, y’know?” From a force of habit, your eyes flick to your director. She’s nodding, ink pen tapping the tip of her nose.
“Okay, Taeil?” She prods after a silence that takes forever. The boy fidgets, one hand coming up to scratch the nape of his neck. For one brief moment you notice how beautiful he is, with his sharp jawline cutting perfectly against his soft cheeks and high cheekbones. His eyes glisten while he thinks, then they flick to you. It makes everything feel red.
“Um, I agree... You’re really sweet, and funny, I just don’t know you. Or anyone, really.” The warmth on your skin dissipates and is replaced with a heavy swirling in your gut. Is it always going to be this hard to make him talk to you?
“Okay,” Your director starts, dropping her pen to the table, “so it sounds like for (y/n) to be more comfortable you have to get to know each other, and for Taeil to be more comfortable you need to get used to the environment; nod if I’m right.” Taeil looks at you with the same expression of a deer in headlights, but you’re used to this form of communication. He watches as you nod, then follows timidly, “Alright, I have an assignment. I want you two to go on a date.”
Let’s just say, if you thought your ego wasn’t damaged by having to do this meeting it was definitely damaged by Taeil’s incredulous sputtering.
“Excuse me?” He asked, cheeks flushing beet red. You bit off the hangnail on your thumb, stomach churning again.
“I don’t think she means a real date.” You muttered, embarrassment threatening your cheeks.
“You’re right, (y/n), I don’t. I just mean that I need you two to go out somewhere, sit down, and get to know each other. Not as Marius and Cosette, but as Taeil and (y/n), okay?” You nod eagerly despite the redness flushing your face, because you’re a directors pet first. Taeil is a little (read: a lot) more reserved.
“Okay, we can go after next weeks act one vocal run through?” You suggest. He smiles, it’s the same one he uses while acting.
“Yea, I’ll drive.” You want to tell him that he doesn’t have to look so scared about it. It’s not like you bite.
“Perfect!” Your director sighs, clapping her hands while popping up from her chair, “It’s a date.”
You wish her words sounded less like a threat.
*
There were few things worse than choreography rehearsals. One thing was choreography rehearsals lead by Dong Sicheng. Especially when they happened on Haechan’s (more commonly known as your ride) sick day. Even worse? Having to wear a blonde rat tail on your head.
“I’m really sorry (y/n), I just can’t even-” His words were cut off by the sound of him retching, you prayed that it was into a toilet, “Yea. That.” You chewed anxiously on your thumb nail, eyes tracking to the slowly dwindling parking lot.
“Don’t even worry about it, I’ll bring by some soup tonight.” You could hear his mom ushering him back into his bed, “Okay?”
“Sounds good.” He groans out, making an ‘oomf’ sound as he drops into his bed, “I gotta go before I get something gross on my phone. Love you.”
“Love you too, bye bye!” As you dropped your phone back into the rehearsal bag slung across your shoulder rain started to drizzle outside. It wasn’t a long walk from the theater to your house, and if you ran there was a small chance of actually getting wet (you had learned this with Donghyuck and Jaehyun back in middle school, after many unfortunate weather days.) You could always wait until the stage crew is done and see if one of your friends was on today, but the rain was already turning from drizzle to downpour. Besides, it felt wrong to talk to someone just because you needed a ride; running would be perfectly fine.
“Who were you talking to?” A voice asked. You yelped, whipping around to see black hair and soft cheeks.
“Oh, Taeil!” Your voice comes out so fake that it makes you cringe, “It was just Donghyuck, he’s sick so I’m here. Why are you still here?” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, eyeing the rain where it falls behind you.
“I was talking with Henderey. He’s stage manager, do you know him?” Slight irritation itches the back of your neck.
“Of course.” He swallows roughly, hands briefly coming out of his pockets to brush through his hair.
“Oh, well our dads are friends. So...” Silence settles awkwardly in the room, so thick that you could spread it on toast, “So if Donghyck’s not here how are you getting home? Doesn’t he usually take you?” A sigh escapes your lip as you turn around again, noticing the rain that’s beginning to come down in sheets.
“He does, I think I’m just gonna... Walk?” Taeil’s face twisted, jaw going slack while his eyebrows furrowed.
“Y-you know I can’t let you do that, right?” A small laugh bubbles in your throat as you suddenly understand why he’s the perfect fit for Marius. The only word that can be used to describe Taeil in this moment (other than awkward) would be pretty. His lips are puffy and twisted with concern, soft cheeks pulling downwards with a frown. He’s pure lover boy material, which makes you even more frustrated that you can’t act with him.
“It’s fine, you clearly don’t want to be around me. Or go out with me, and if I run-”
“Hold on,” he interrupts, taking a step closer to you, “who said that?” a blush rises all the up to your ears, you almost move to cover them.
“Well, you didn’t say it but-”
“ME?!” His eyebrows are raised, they’re so perfect that you wonder if he’s ever had them done.
“Yes! Last week, you all but spat on yourself at the idea of going out with me. I mean you don’t have to get married to me or anything, but seriously? Is it that revolting?” His cheeks are the color of the daylilies that bloom in your front yard. Running in the rain doesn’t sound too bad at this point.
“I didn’t mean- it wasn’t like th- I just don’t know you!” For some reason those five words are what make the pot in your brain boil over.
“I don’t know you either! You aren’t the only uncomfortable one!” His expression is softening, it makes you want to scream... Or cry, “I don’t know you, anything about you! I try to joke around backstage, ask about your favorite shows, I even gave you permission to make fun of my wig! I won’t even let Donghyuck do that! You literally just won’t talk to me, so it’s safe to assume you don’t like me very much. Which is whatever, that’s all up to you, but you have to work with me! Which means you have to not, oh I don’t know, spit on yourself when the director says we have to do something together!” The expression of concern on Taeil’s face had twisted into one of sadness. It was unbelievable to you that he was sad, you were the offended one! With a frustrated sigh, you turn to the glass doors and brace yourself for the rain.
“Wait!” He calls out. You turn back around to see that he’s taken a step closer to you, one arm outreached as if he wants to touch you. Something flips in your stomach, “I’m really sorry. And I promise it’s not like that, I do like you.”
“Sure have a funny way of showing it.” You mumble, arms folding across your chest. He froze for a moment, lips forming a straight line on his face.
“I know, I’m sorry. Let me drive you home and make it up to you?” You’re about to say no when thunder booms outside, “I’ll even pull up and get you.”
“Does your car have seat warmers?” A smile starts cracking at the corner of his lips, you can’t tell if it’s endearing or infuriating.
“Yes.”
“Okay, fine. I’m still upset though!” The smile finally spreads, it looks like sun rolling over hills. He nods and moves past you.
“Noted.”
*
The moment you decided that Taeil was okay (probably more than that) was when you were sitting in his mom van underneath the cover of a Kangaroo gas station while listening to your musical theatre playlist. He was eating sour patch kids and sipping on a mountain dew while laughing at your answers to ‘twenty’ questions (twenty in quotations because in reality the two of you had far surpassed that number. It had been almost an hour of asking questions back and forth while chewing on gummy candy.)
“Okay... What’s the best role you’ve had?” You ask, stomach fluttering at the way his face lights up.
“Other than Marius,” He playfully sticks his tongue out at you, causing a giggle to bubble in your throat, “Tulsa in Gypsy. That was super fun.”
“You can tap?” You ask, shooting up out of your seat. He chuckles, stealing a gummy worm from the bag in your lap.
“Is that your question or...”
“No! Don’t count that; and stop taking my worms!” He laughs again as you protectively cradle the colorful bag.
“What’s your best role? And yes, I can tap.” You mull it over for a second, sucking on the red and blue candy in your mouth.
“Probably Sarah Brown in Guys and Dolls, that was really fun. I got to do it with Jaehyun, too, so that was nice. My turn?” He nods while taking a long sip from his green can, “Okay, what’s your favorite musical?”
“Oklahoma.” He answers definitely. It makes you want to gag.
“Why?!” He answers with a ‘tsk’ sound, wagging an index finger towards you.
“It’s not your turn anymore.” He shoves a clump of blue sour patch kids into his mouth before continuing, “What do you think is the best movie musical?”
“Easy, Mama Mia. And swallow before you talk.” He smiles, poking one blue blob in between his teeth, “Why Oklahoma?” He sighs, plopping back into the drivers seat.
“It was my moms favorite.” His voice has taken on a softer tone, it makes you want to turn down the music.
“Permission to pry?” He looks towards you with glassy eyes, then nods, “Was?”
“Yea.” He breathes out, head tilting backwards. The motion exposes the elegant lines of his throat (it takes everything in you to not stare,) “Was, she passed when I was nine. Stomach cancer. I started theatre pretty soon after that.” Your heart softens at his words.
“I’m sorry, I had no idea.” He locks eyes with you and grins.
“Don’t you dare go and forgive me because I have a dead mom!” The strict words make you bust out in laughter,doubling over so quickly that you almost push his drink out of the cup holder. He chuckles too, pushing playfully at your shoulder, “Come on, sit up.”
“That isn’t why I’m forgiving you.” You answer through laughter, placing a hand on his arm, “I’m forgiving you because you’re actually really funny, and kind, and... You’re like a pomegranate person. They seem so ‘meh’ on the outside, then you have to work really really hard to open it up, but once you do it’s worth all of it.”
“Thank you, I think?” He chuckles, putting his free hand on top of yours, “Did you just call me ugly?” The laugh that comes out of you is so aggressive that it could be classified as a snort. It makes your gut clench.
“No!” You gasp, running one hand across your face, “I was saying that... I’m glad you forced me to let you take me home.” He gives you a soft smile, your ears turn pink.
“Yea, I am too.”
*
Being part of a theatre company in a small town resulted in two things; a lack of crew and strange traditions. The lack of crew was a direct cause of the lack of people auditioning, but after ten years that was proving to be less of a problem. However, the traditions (thankfully) had still yet to die out. There were countless examples, but amongst your favorite was the pajama sing through.
It started in the very first show, ‘The Little Mermaid’ (you were participating at a ripe eight years old, in the groundbreaking role of ‘Clown fish’.) The girl playing Ariel decided that a pajama party would be fun, someone even brought a waffle maker. You remembered sitting next to Donghyuck in matching onesies and sharing a waffle with whipped cream and strawberries, and so the tradition was born.
(He had laughed his butt off when you got into the car that morning.
“You look ridiculous, it’s perfect!” You wanted to slap him, but in a caring way. On one hand, he made you wear a Mike Wazowski onesie. On the other, you wouldn’t want anyone else to be your Sully.
“Shut up and drive! Also, are you feeling better?” He chuckled again, punching your shoulder the way an older brother would.
“Much, it was just food poisoning. Let’s go!”)
Everyone cheered when you and Hyuck entered the green room with a rusty waffle maker and fresh strawberries. It was a heartwarming sight, thirty kids all sitting on the floor of a shabby room with neon green walls dressed in over the top fuzzy pajamas.
“Where’s the waffles?” Jaehyun called out from across the room. He wore a black cotton shirt with fuzzy plaid pants, an outfit that fondly reminded you of your middle school sleepovers.
“Will you get your bag off the counter please?” He stuck his tongue out at you, slinging the leather satchel over his shoulder. You smiled sweetly at him then immediately got to work setting the machine up, “Sicheng should be here soon with the batter.”
“Um, why are we all in pajamas?” A voice asked from the door, one that you quickly recognized to be Taeil. He was in a white t-shirt tucked into a well fitted pair of jean shorts. all tied together with a brown leather belt.
“Did no one tell him?” Jaehyun whispers, the room falling quiet. Everyone’s staring at him, it almost makes you embarrassed.
“Um, we always wear pajamas to sing through’s. I guess no one told you, but don’t worry! I brought extras!” You walk towards the door, grabbing his arm as you pass by, “Did Hendery really not tell you?”
“Guess not, it’s weird to have everyone stare at you for not going out in pajamas.” His face when he makes a joke is so pure, particularly the way he softly laughs to himself. You make a point to laugh as well.
“Yea, it’s a tradition that we started at the first sing through. It’s always fun, kind of like a movie night. We’re parked this way.” You pull him towards the stage door.
“Aren’t we supposed to not use this door?” You scoff and push it open.
“No one follows that rule, also the pj’s are Hyuck’s. They should fit fine, if anything just a little long-”
“Okay you can call me annoying, or rude, or say that I have the personality of a door knob. But if you start calling me short I won’t hesitate to dropkick you.” A laugh escapes your mouth, coming out bubbly and kind. Like something you’d share with a friend.
“Relax! I wasn’t calling you... The s-word. I was just saying, Hyuck is a little bit tall-” He slaps your shoulder as you move towards your friends silver car.
“Not another word!” He punctuates each word with a short slap to your bicep, it makes you giggle.
“Okay, okay! I call mercy!” You laugh out while retrieving the fuzzy pajamas from Hyuck’s car, “Here you are, one pair of pj’s!” When you turn around to hand them off he’s standing just a little bit closer than before, you can almost feel his breath.
“Thank you,” He sighs, taking the fuzzy green pants and white hoodie into his hands, “I guess we’re not going to a restaurant after this?” You laugh again, softly pushing his shoulder.
“Are you trying to say my Mike Wazowski onesie isn’t good enough for the public?” He gasps and clenches his chest, perfect eyebrows furrowing.
“(Y/n)! I would nev-” He’s interrupted by the stage door swinging open, Donghyuck poking his head out ever so slightly.
“(Y/n)! Waffles!” You smile widely, like a little kid on Christmas morning. You slam the car door behind you shut and begin moving towards the door.
“Coming!” You sing in response, turning back to motion at Taeil, “Come on, there’s waffles!” You see him smile, something about it looks reserved.
(What you don’t see is the longing glances he cast to you throughout rehearsal, the clench in his gut as you feed Donghyuck the piece of strawberry that had fallen onto his Sully onesie. You don’t see his eyes cast downwards as you nestle into Donghyuck’s side and stay there for the rest of the sing through.)
*
It turns out Taeil’s plans consisted of eating Taco Bell in the trunk of his mom van while listening to the Mamma Mia cast album. You passed around questions and laughs while stuffing your faces with burritos and chips that were too greasy.
“You really don’t think I would play Harry?” He asks through a mouthful of burrito.
“No, you’re definitely a Sky. Also, swallow before you speak!” He laughs, threatening to fling a piece of lettuce at you, “Don’t you dare!”
“I won’t. You’d probably be Sophie.” You flash him a bright smile, doing an over exaggerated hair flip.
“I think so too.” He rolls his eyes, the sunlight spilling from his car windows highlight a honey colored undertone in his pupils. A part of you wishes you could bottle up this moment and keep it forever, “Permission to pry?”
“Is it about my mom?” He asks knowingly. You nod meekly as he smiles a gentle smile, “Go ahead.”
“Yesterday, when you said that you started theatre soon after your mom passing, was... I don’t know, was there a reason for that?” The words coming out of our mouth feel heavy, threatening to shatter the bubble. You had never worried about shattering a bubble before, but something about the memory of Taeil’s glassy eyes from yesterday makes your stomach clench.
“She was an actress. A really good one too, there’s tons of pictures and stuff. We actually have one cast recording from when she was off Broadway, but I can’t listen to it anymore.” He takes a deep breath, tilting his head back again. You’re starting to think that’s a habit when he talks about his mom, “I did Suessical right after she passed because I wanted to... I don’t know, feel closer to her? I stayed because of the whole family thing, since my family had actually fallen apart. Like, unraveled. Then I found out I was kind of good at it, so here we are.” It’s tempting to reach out and grab his hand, so you do. Your eyes lock as you offer up a gentle smile.
“That’s sweet, I’m sure she’s really proud of you.” He smiles back and breathes out. One strand of black hair swoops over his eyes, you think that he looks like a love story.
“She was a lot like you, actually.” You cock an eyebrow, eliciting a breathy laugh from the sweet boy, “I’m serious! She was so sweet, and funny, and like... Stubborn, but in a quiet kind of way.” Warmth blossoms in your chest.
“I’m glad you think of me that way, does that have anything to with why you wouldn’t talk to me?” He laughs again, unwinding his hand from yours. The answer is hesitant, you choose to believe it’s because he was laughing.
“Sure.”
You stay in the back of his car until the sun sets, wrapped up in the feeling of being with Taeil like it’s a warm bathrobe and you just stepped out of the shower.
*
“Where to this week?” You ask while bouncing over to the mom van. Taeil smiles, unlocking the door so you can climb in.
“I’m feeling ice cream, so Dairy Queen?” You smile and nod enthusiastically.
“Dairy Queen, absolutely!” He flashes you a smile while settling into the drivers seat, immediately connecting his phone to the aux and flipping through countless cast recordings.
“What are we feeling today? Maybe some Phantom?” When he looks over he’s greeted with a hazy smile, one that’s exclusively reserved for post rehearsal sappiness, “What?” (You pretend to not notice the goofy grin catching on the plane of his face.)
“I’m just really glad that we’re doing this weekly now. It’s almost like we’re friends.” He laughs, punching your shoulder. You think that it feels different than when Hyuck does it.
“We are friends, now text me your order.”
*
“Where are we headed, Miss?” Taeil questions, mustering up a rancid British accent. You would’ve laughed less if his hair wasn’t stuck to his forehead with sweat. The entire cast had been hoping Sicheng would lighten up on choreography rehearsals as you got closer to show week, but sadly you were all dead wrong.
“How about Dunkin’? I need the caffeine after that torture session.” He smiles widely, you pretend to not notice the bead of sweat that drips down his nose.
“Sounds great, text me-”
“My order, already on it!” He pinches your cheek before putting the car in reverse; you try to ignore how it makes your skin burn for the rest of the day.
*
“I can’t believe we’re one week away from tech.” You lament while Taeil sinks his teeth into a Five Guys burger. The idea of inhaling fast food while sitting in the back of this boys car would’ve once been so foreign to you, but now it’s a routine, “It feels like just yesterday we were stuttering our way through every scene together while Hyuck roasted me in our group chat.”
“Would he really?” A laughs spills from your mouth, along with a single shred of lettuce from the bite of cheese burger you had just consumed. Taeil immediately points at the spot where it landed on your thigh, laughing along with you, “Swallow! Swallow before you speak! Laugh? Either!” He’s shaking a finger at you, it reminds you of something your father would do.
“Stop! It’s your fault for making me laugh!” You whine, reaching up to grab his still waggling finger, “I swear we’re gonna have to fight!” His laughter has permeated the air, it makes something flutter in your stomach.
“I can’t believe your manners are so bad! Get it together, (y/n)!” He brings his other hand up, but doesn’t get very far before your hands are wrapped around both of his index fingers.
“Keep this up and Marius is going on with eight fingers.” You manage through a laugh, trying not to notice the pink spreading across his high cheek bones. (The same way you tried to not notice the freckle on the shell of his ear, or how his skin looked like honey against his black sweatshirt,) “I’m not kidding!”
“Forgive me for finding a girl who was wearing a blonde pom pom on her head an hour ago less than threatening.” He teases. You pretend that your heart doesn’t clench at his mischievous smirk.
“You’re so lucky that I like you too much to hurt you.”
*
When Jung Jaehyun moved in down the street you were six years old. It immediately resulted in countless days of riding your bikes up and down the street and stuffing your face with traditional Korean food at his house. Over the years the activities have changed, but the accessibility was always the same.
Which is how you ended up knocking on his front door at midnight exactly eight hours before tech rehearsals were set to begin. He opened the door wearing an expression of concern, as well as a bright green face mask.
“(Y/n)? It’s kinda late, isn’t-”
“I think I’m in love with Taeil.” You blurt out. His jaw drops open, light cracks forming in the green goop on his face, “I don’t really know how it happened, but we have those weekly dates or whatever, and he makes me laugh, a-and I don’t know! He’s just so kind and gentle, so so gentle, and our stage kiss! That, that used to be something just like... Whatever, you know? Like how I’ve kissed you and Hyuck. Just a stage kiss, but with Taeil it leaves chills all over my body! I literally forget my lines, which I’ve never done before! At least not because of a kiss!” Your eyes are wild (though, the fact that you’re donning fuzzy plaid pajama pants and bed head definitely adds to that.)
“Um... I’m not really in a position to talk right now, why don’t you come inside?” You nod, chewing nervously on your lower lip. He ushers you into the house, immediately seating you on the couch with a warm cup of honey tea, “I’m gonna go wash this off, but I promise I will be right back. We can talk then, yea?” You nod shyly, sipping the hot tea as he exits the living room.
The thoughts of Taeil had been dwelling in your head for weeks, causing your romance scenes to flourish. Receiving adamant praise from your director was nice, but you always left the stage with a hole in your chest. A gaping hole that only closes up in the solace of Taeil’s mom van with his eyes trained on you and everything feeling warm.
Jaehyun reenters the room with a clean face, immediately plopping next to you on the couch. His hair is pulled back from his forehead with an elastic headband, causing it to poke out in every direction. You think he looks like an octopus
“The tea’s good.” You breathe, face taking on a tired expression. You think Jaehyun doesn’t notice until he places his ring finger on the space between your eyebrows.
“Relax, we don’t need tech week wrinkles before tech has even started.” You roll your eyes dramatically, running a hand across your face.
“I’ll never forgive Hyuck for teaching you about skin care.” You groan as he playfully punches your shoulder.
“Whereas I am forever grateful. So, Taeil?” You whine like a peeved child at his comment, head falling onto his shoulder. He let’s out a squeaky laugh while pushing you to sit up, “Come on, tell me everything!”
So you do, mouth letting out words faster than you thought was possible. You tell him about the first day he drove you home, how he ate sour patch kids and sang along to Mean Girls. You tell him about taco bell, about how your weekly outings have become almost sacred. Most importantly, you tell Jaehyun about the moment you started to fall. Sitting in the back of Moon Taeil’s car with a mouthful of burrito; ‘She was a lot like you, actually’. It was so certain, so meaningful.
“I don’t know. He just make me feel so calmed, like... Like when we’re together there’s a pink bubble around us, and nothing can penetrate it.” A soft smile has taken on home on your friends face, one of his hands holding his heart as he pouts. It’s maddening how a moment like this with Jaehyun (or with any of your friends) makes you feels so different compared to a moment like this with Taeil. He’s just a boy like the others, but his hand on your thigh would make your head explode.
“That’s really sweet, (y/n). And it seems like he really likes you too.” You groan again, eliciting a warm laugh from your friend, “What? Why’s that bad?” You drag your hands down your face, pulling dramatically on your cheeks.
“Because! I’ve never liked anyone this much before, let alone someone like Taeil! He’s so hardworking, and sweet to everyone. I just don’t know if...” He leans into you, raising one eyebrow.
“You don’t know what?” A lump forms in your throat, you want to vomit.
“I don’t know if I’m good enough.” The words are breathy due to you uselessly fighting back tears. One slides down your cheek, Jaehyun passes you a tissue, “A-and it’s scary because I’m not used to not knowing that, I’m always good enough! But for him, f-for him? He deserves the entire world, and I can’t give him that! I can’t even drive!” Jaehyun laughs softly, pulling you into a comforting hug while patting your back softly.
“Well the driving thing isn’t your fault, or relevant,” A whimper escapes your lips as you cuddle into your friends chest, “And if you two are meant to be then you will be enough. No matter what you have to give physically, if you two really love each other you will always be enough. Now let’s get you home, can’t have Cosette showing up cranky on the first day of tech.” You laugh; it’s a depressing, watery noise. Sitting up, you wipe the tear tracks from your cheeks and inhale snottily.
“No, I guess we can’t. Would be a shame to have a sleepy Javert, too.” He laughs while standing in one swift motion, offering you a hand.
“Yes it would... (Y/n?)” You stand up, stealing one last hug from your kind friend.
“Yes?” You ask while nestled in his arms.
“I love you so much. You’re like my little sister, and I’m really really proud of you.” A sigh leaves your chest, your whole body feeling like a weight’s been lifted.
“Thank you, big bro.” He smiles brightly, “You’re gonna tell everyone about this, aren’t you?” He laughs again, head tilting back. You think of the way Taeil does that, and then you think of the way his laugh sounds (soft and high, almost like how a fairy would laugh.)
“Sweetie, we already knew. We were just waiting for you to admit it.”
*
1:27 am
Incoming text from; xiaojun <3
‘(Y/N) AND TAEIL SITTIN IN A TREE’
‘K-I-S-S-I-N-G’
*
1:49 am
Incoming text from; seecheeng
‘thank u for confessing jae owes me $30′
*
1:52 am
Incoming text from; luke ass
‘AYEEEEEEEEEE’
*
6:05 am
Incoming text from; donkey yuck <33
‘if u don’t make a move by the end of tech i’ll eat your toes :)’
*
There were four dressing rooms in your theater, usually divided between principle and ensemble due to the amount of costumes. While the boys and girls were separated, you would freely go between your dressing room and wherever all of your boys were. You were all so familiar that you could come in wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and your spanx. Which is exactly what you did, business as usual.
“Happy t-” Your voice leaves as soon as you see Taeil sitting in front of a mirror with an eyebrow pencil in his hand. He looks at you, and it’s almost comical how quickly his cheeks turn pink, “I’m gonna go put my pants back on.”
(You can hear Hyuck laughing through the walls.)
“Welcome back!” Lucas calls out as you reenter the dressing room, “Happy to see your pants this time.” You shoot him a sleepy glare and plop into the seat next to Donghyuck.
“Will you do my falsies for me?” You ask the boy, already knowing that he’ll agree.
“Yes, but I’m not tying your corset.” A laugh falls from your lips as you pump primer onto the back of your hand. It’s going pretty well until you notice Taeil watching you, eyes trained on your every move. It makes you blush.
“What?” You ask, remnants of laughter settling in your chest. The room is bustling, people arguing over where to put costume pieces, music blaring from Xiaojun’s speaker, Lucas screaming over... Something; but nonetheless you can feel a bubble form around you and Taeil.
“Oh! Nothing, just... Your makeup looks so good. Mine always looks gross.” His eyes are sparkling, along with the teeth that poke from his small smile. You laugh lightly, pushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear.
“Do you want me to do your makeup?” His eyes immediately go wide, the small smile now spreading cheek to cheek. The way he nods like an energetic kid makes your heart clench, “Okay, just let me finish this really quick.” You pack powder onto your forehead, then slide up onto the counter in front of where he’s sitting, “Where’s your foundation?” He reaches behind you to grab the small glass bottle, hand lightly brushing your hip bone in the process. It would be a joke to say the two of you don’t develop blushes redder than a fire engine.
“Um, here!” He shoves the bottle into your hands, driving a wedge between your bodies.
“Thanks.” You sigh, spreading the liquid goop onto the back of your hand, “How are you feeling about your first tech day so far?” The boy smirks, a giggle playing on his lips.
“It’s fun. My favorite part was when you came in without pants.” From across the room Hyuck cackles, causing both you and Taeil to turn and stare.
“Sorry, I agree!” You roll your eyes and return to the former position. The first thing you notice is how smooth Taeil’s skin is, then the solemn expression that it wears. Your eyebrows crinkle while spreading blending foundation into his cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” You ask while moving onto the boys forehead. He shakes his head dismissively, causing you to promptly slap him, “Don’t move your head... Or lie to me.”
“I’m fine!” The boys sighs, a smile finally verging on the edges of his lips, “And I wouldn’t lie to you.” Something clenches inside of your chest, something that let’s you know he’s still not okay. You’re about to push even harder when Xiaojun calls your name from across the room, shouting that it’s your turn to pick the song.
“Anything from Waitress!” You reply while lightly dabbing blush onto Taeil’s cheeks. The bubble is officially popped, but the weight of Taeil’s face in your hands is too comforting for it to matter.
*
“Five to places!” Hendery calls into the girls dressing room. You (and three ensemble girls) are currently trying to shove your gut into a corset while not damaging the curly blonde wig on top of your head. Yet still, you drone ‘Thank you five’ in response, as if you’re all actually going to be ready by then.
“I got it!” One girl shouts as she fastens the eye and hook on your back, “Okay, breathe in really hard.” You barely have a chance to breathe period before she fastens the ribbons so tight that you see stars.
“Thank you.” You wheeze as she backs away, moving quickly to put on your first dress. It’s a gorgeous thing, with sleeves that puff like clouds and a huge violet silk skirt. The first time you pulled it over your head it felt like you were the same little girl who bounced and cheered in the seats of the Les Mis national tour, like thousands of wishes on stars had come true. You felt the same way now as you gazed into the mirror.
“Where’s your bonnet?” The girl playing Eponine asked, eliciting a curse from your perfectly painted lips.
“I left it in the boys room.” You drop your hands from where they’re adjusting the gown and head for the door. Rushing into the boys dressing room while wearing a dress shaped like a cupcake and character shoes is probably a sight for sore eyes. You actually know that it is, if Xiaojuns aching laughter is anything to judge by.
“Has anyone seen my bon-” The sight of Taeil standing alone in the center of the room with your bonnet twirling on his fingers makes your voice stop. You smile and walk towards him, reveling in the stars in his eyes, “Thank you, I was looking for that.” You say as you take it off the boys fingers. The room is a heavy kind of silent, one that waits for someone to say something, “So are you-”
“We have to stop this.” He states, turning to face you head on. Something clenches in your chest, causing confusion to rise up on your face.
“Stop what, I’m just getting my bonnet-”
“Please don’t do that,” He groans as sadness settles into the lines of his face, “don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. It’ll just drag this out.” He moves to turn away, but you grab him by the shoulder and flip him back to you. There’s no way that he’s getting of this that easily.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, so tell me!” You’re begging, but there’s something snapping in your heart telling you to not care. He sighs deeply, running one hand over his face. It’s infuriating how hard his action makes your stomach flutter.
“This! Th-the feelings! The way that we talk a-and touch, it has to stop.” You feel a lump harden in your throat, but you swallow it down and grip him tighter.
“Why?” He groans, trying again to move away, “No, tell me why? If it’s because you don’t feel how I do then I at least deserve to know!” His eyes go sad, a single tear rolling down his cheek. You want to tell him that it’ll ruin his makeup if he cries now. You want to wipe it away.
“It’s not that, I-I do feel the same. But I can’t, and I shouldn’t, so we have to stop this.” Tears are flowing down his cheeks, you want to cry too. It’s actually becoming hard not to.
“Yes, but why?” Your voice sounds like a sob.
“Because! Because I don’t want to hurt anyone, least of all you, so we have to stop this.” Well, that wasn’t any less confusing than this outburst. You’re about to say something when the door swings open.
“Places!” Hendery calls into the room. Your stomach goes cold at the realization that you still have to do the show.
“Thank you places.” Taeil calls back as you drop his shoulder. He wipes the tears from his cheeks, you want to tell him that he’s going to get foundation on his sleeve. Before he leaves he casts you one last glance with watery eyes, it almost looks like he’s going to apologize. He doesn’t, leaving you standing alone in the middle of the room.
The silence settles heavy again, enveloping you entirely. There’s no sound as you sob, no sound as the overhead microphone turns on, no sound as Hyuck and Lucas enter the room to envelope you in a bone crushing. No sound except for the boiling anger that turns your ears red and the erratic thumping of your heart that leaps into your throat.
*
You do your makeup and put on your wig in the boys dressing room everyday, yet still manage to avoid talking to Taeil until final dress. It was challenging to say the least, but Hyuck’s terrible jokes and watching Lucas try to do his stage makeup was the perfect distraction from the brick that Taeil left in your gut. Unfortunately, neither of them were here now. Just Xiaojun (who was sitting in the cushy chair by the door with earbuds in,) Taeil (who was buttoning the collar of his ruffled shirt,) and you (who’s shoving all of the hair on your head into a wig cap.)
“You were really good yesterday.” He says, mocha brown eyes moving to where you sit. It’s frustrating how quickly you blush, “Not that you’re not always really good, you are! It’s just-”
“Why are you doing this?” You ask, hands dropping from your head and onto the makeup counter, “First you say that you won’t... Whatever for god knows why, and that’s fine! I’m trying to let that be fine, even though I have to kiss you but it’s not like I’m actually kissing you. It’s fine, it’s fine! Until you start trying to make small talk, that’s just cruel.” You can only imagine how non-threatening you look with all of your hair shoved into a lump on your head, yet he still looks like he’s been scolded.
“Oh, um... I’m sorry.” You turn back to the mirror and pull the wig onto your head, securing it with a huge clump of bobby pins.
“I have to go and get my costume on, I’ll see on stage.” You exit quickly, with something angry, sad, and ugly forming in your stomach.
*
The feeling of opening night is one that eludes a description. It’s like there’s a pit in your stomach, but the pit is lined with glitter and fireworks. Wonderful and happy and relived, but still anxious.
“Happy opening!” You sing while waltzing into the boys room, wearing a pair of sweatpants over your already fastened corset.
“Happy opening!” They chorus in response. The room is already in perfect chaos, with Hyuck and Lucas doing full fledged reenactments of whatever song comes on shuffle while Jaehyun stands between them and struggles to brush on mascara. You laugh at the scene while settling into a makeup chair.
“How are you feeling?” Xiaojun asks from his seat next to yours. A smile spreads on your face at the question, causing your hands to hiccup while they unpack your makeup bag.
“Excited... Nervous. Happy, but also a little bit sad. Everything, I guess.” He laughs in a way that let’s you know he feels the same, and that he also has no idea how to describe an opening night.
“Everything about sums it up.” He responds with a short laugh, turning in his chair to face the mirror, “I’m really proud of us, you know? Like... You make me cry every night, (y/n), we used to not even be able to get through the death scene without cracking up.” The memory of your wig sliding away from your scalp like a fried egg makes you giggle while you cast a soft smile towards your onstage father. The bright feeling in your stomach turns sour as you see Taeil’s reflection, but you swallow it whole.
“I’m proud of us too, dad.” Your friend visibly cringes, a hearty laugh escaping his smiling lips.
“Nope, nope absolutely hated that!” He whines, pushing you back towards the mirror.
“Aw come on-” You stop talking when Hendery pokes his head into the dressing room, already knowing the exact words he’s about to say.
“Mic check in five!” He calls, the words feeling different than they did the day before.
“Thank you five!” Everyone answers.
*
It had never been a problem that Taeil’s mic check was done right before yours. Sure, you both had to go back to the dressing room at almost the same time, but it usually never mattered. Xiaojun, Lucas, and Jaehyun were always done far before you and you could find them in the dressing room finishing up their makeup and starting to get in costume. It had never been a problem, until today that is.
You enter the dressing room hoping to immediately jump into a Lucas led dance party. Instead the room is empty except for Taeil, who’s quietly singing while patting blush onto his smooth cheeks. His back goes pin straight when he hears you pick up your makeup bag, moving towards you quickly. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, it’s frustrating how right it feels.
“(y/n), please just-”
“Taeil, I already told you. I can’t do this.” The expression on his face is one of soft determination, small creases forming next to his pretty eyes.
“I know, I know. I just want you to know that... I love you, (y/n), and I have to tell you why. Can I tell you why?” You can feel him looking at you with a gaze that weighs a thousand pounds, so you nod, “I love you because every time I pass a Taco Bell now I think of your sweet laugh in the back of my car. I love you because whenever I drop you off at your house my car still smells like your perfume for hours. I love you because when you blush it goes up to your ears. I love you because every time that we sing together I think of New Years Eve with my mom, when we’d sing around the piano after dinner. And I know, I shouldn’t do this because you have a boyfriend and that’s just... Wrong, but if I didn’t say this-” Your eyebrows furrow hard at his comment, a boyfriend?
“Who’s my boyfriend?” You ask, causing confusion to rise on the boys face, “Taeil, who’s my boyfriend?”
“I-I thought- Donghyuck?” A hodgepodge of emotions bubbles in your chest. It’s like an elation and confusion sundae, topped with disgust sauce and a cherry.
“Taeil, you beautiful, beautiful idiot! Donghyuck’s not my boyfriend, he’s just my friend!” You exclaim as the boys eyes go wide. You grab his face by the cheeks, then remember that he’s wearing a full face and settle for his shoulders.
“He is?!” You nod excitedly as his confused expression is replaced with realization.
“I’d rather eat my own toes than date Hyuck, he’s an asshole!”
“Yea see you’d say stuff like that and I’d get really confused-”
“Taeil, we’re going to kiss now. Okay?” He nods, bringing his hands to curve around your neck.
“Oh, okay. More than okay-”
The first thing you notice is that his breath tastes like cinnamon. He tastes like cinnamon and clover honey, and you think that you could get addicted to it. You think you are addicted to it. The way that his hands hold your face like it’s a diamond, the way that his soft lips engulf yours, the way that the taste of him has you subconsciously following him while he pulls away. You think that kissing Taeil is one of those things that only takes a taste to make someone addicted.
“I love you, so, so much,” He breathes, foreheads resting against one another. You’ve never felt more in a bubble than you do right now, “I don’t know what to say...”
“So don’t.” You sigh while moving forward, securing his lips in a second kiss. His lips are moving with yours within seconds, his tongue briefly slipping into your mouth. It takes every ounce of your self control to not melt in his hands.
He’s moving his hands down to your waist when the door opens. You don’t even notice, too lost in the weight of Taeil’s mouth and the motion of his hands. You two are completely lost in each other, until Lucas let’s out a high pitched scream.
“Damn it! Hyuck, you won!” He shouts, causing you and Taeil to jump away from each other (and for Taeil to hit his tailbone on the makeup counter. You jokingly offered to ‘kiss it better.’)
“Finally!” Hyuck says, entering the dressing room with an arm slung around Xiaojun’s shoulder.
“It’s only been a week!” You cry defensively, settling into Taeil’s side. You take in his warmth and think to yourself, ‘I could get used to this.’
“We’ve been betting on this since the read through.” Jaehyun states blankly while grabbing his costume from the rack.
“Yea, we were starting to think Sicheng was gonna win with ‘after the show.’” Xiaojun jokes, holding his hand out to silently ask Jaehyun to pass him his first costume, “I’ve already lost, act one sing through.” You laugh brightly, slapping Taeil’s chest with one hand. He’s staring at you like you’re made out of a million dollars, for the first time you can notice it.
“I think after you explain this I might have to dig your grave.” He laughs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You decide that you like it when his kisses are gentle, too.
“Yea, probably. Now go get your wig on, cutie.” Your friends gag loudly as you give him a short peck and bounce away over to where your wig sits on the other side of the dressing room. You don’t want it to be any other way.
*
“You know, the wig actually looks kinda pretty with the whole costume.” Taeil says, pushing an artificial ringlet off of your face. You laugh while rolling your eyes and grabbing his hand.
“Just like how you don’t look stupid in that ruffle shirt?” He smiles in a way that makes his eyes crinkle, you add the sight to a list of things you never want to forget.
“Exactly!” You’re going to kiss him again, but sadly you’re interrupted by Hendery poking his head into the dressing room.
“Places in five!” You suddenly remember that it’s opening night, then you think of how easy it’ll be to portray Cosette’s story tonight.
“Thank you five!” You both respond, Taeil bringing a hand to cradle your jaw.
“I’ve never dreaded leaving a dressing room more.” You whine, giving your boyfriend a sad glance. He smiles in a way that makes your whole body feel warm.
“Don’t worry,” Taeil whispers before pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “we’ll have plenty of time to do this after the show. Now go to your dressing room, I’ll see you onstage.”
Later, during notes, your director says that the first glance between Marius and Cosette was the best one yet. You know it’s because the entire time while cooped up in your dressing room you thought of nothing other than Moon Taeil’s lips on yours.
*
When the cast list for Grease was posted you were checking out at Sheetz with Taeil. Jaehyun, Xiaojun, Lucas, Sicheng, Hendery, and Donghyuck were quietly waiting for you two at a table, speaking anxiously amongst themselves. Well, until everyone’s phones went off at the same time. The only thing you could make out was someone yelling ‘cast list!’ and Xiaojun dropping his phone face first onto the tile. Along with people harassing Hendery for information.
(”Don’t act like you don’t know!” Lucas accused while offering a hand to Xiaojun who was assessing the damage on his phone. While on the floor.
“I’m telling you, I’m just the five guy!”)
“Here’s your receipt, have a great day!” The cashier chirped while handing the receipt to your boyfriend. There was a knot forming in your stomach as you walked over to your friends table with three bagfuls of snacks, but it released as Taeil put a hand on your shoulder.
“Relax, Sandy.” He whispered into your ear. The words made you blush all the way up to your ears.
“We haven’t seen the list yet Danny!” You quip back, hoping desperately that he didn’t notice your red cheeks. (He noticed, your cheeks got a firm kiss along with a boyish giggle.)
“(y/n)!” Haechan squeals while running over and grabbing you by the shoulders, “Look at the list!” A nervous giggle slips past your lips as you move to grab your phone. You stop when you notice that Taeil’s already on it, turning to face him while inhaling deeply.
“Give it to me straight, Doc.” You deadpan, causing him to let out a breathy laugh.
“Cute.” The way he says it makes you want to explode, “Okay, we’re looking.”
As always, you bit your cheek and nodded along while he read out everyone’s roles. For the next three minutes, the only words that your brain could conjure were ‘mhm’, ‘oh, that’s great!’, and ‘that’ll be fun!’ Other words don’t exist until Taeil gasps dramatically.
“What is it? Is it good, is it bad. You know what? If it’s bad I want Jaehyun tell me, because-”
“It’s good!” He interjects, effectively cutting off your rabbit tail, “We are the cool couple at a made up high school in the fifties!”
“Oh,” You say, heart rate slowing, “that’s good. We’re good!”
“We were already good though, right?”
“No, yes! I just meant like... Good at theatre!” The eclectic bubbling in your chest is making it hard to talk, but the way that your sweet boyfriend is smiling makes it okay.
“Oh, yea. I guess we are.” He smiles a goofy smile, and your stomach does back flips. In that moment it doesn’t matter that you’re in a Sheetz dining room while surrounded by all of your screaming friends, you want to kiss Taeil more than you want to breathe. So you do, effectively forming a perfect and pink bubble around you two. You’re about to pull away for air when Hyuck screams.
(“Get a room!” )
You were all now sitting at the table, everyone talking excitedly about the show and their parts. It was a happy conversation, filled with laughter and remembering Les Mis.
“Remember that terrible wig you had?” Donghyuck starts while shoving a potato chip into his mouth, “You looked like a poodle.”
“I think she looked pretty.” Taeil comments quietly, wrapping an arm around you.
“Aww,” You coo, nestling into the boys side, “thank you honey.” You’re about to kiss his cheek, but then Donghyuck gags dramatically.
“Hey, who do you think’s gonna fall in love this time around?” Sicheng teases while budding into the conversation.
You think that sitting there with everyone is the way that life was intended to be lived.
#Moon Taeil#taeil x reader#taeil imagines#taeil fluff#taeil ff#nct#nct fluff#admin reid#yall this took me forever to write bc id periodically have to get up and sing mt songs#i am WEAK#also i love taeil so much he is prettiest boy#im insanely happy to finally post this pls pls enjoy <3#the writing tag
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The idea for this lovely ramble of my 1am writing is courtesy of @courfeyrank who wanted Enj and Bahorel being buds.
All mistakes are my own. And i apologize in advance for my atrocious spelling.
Tw: mentions of police brutality, drinking, and smoking.
Bahorel always felt guilty for leaving his family to go help with other causes but Enjorlas assured him repeatedly that it was more than okay and the Amis could take care of themselves. However when he walked into their customary meeting on the Saturday after a protest he was ready to never leave them alone for more than a day.
Everyone was sporting bruises, cuts, and Grantaire even had a broken arm. Bahorel knew it had a chance of going bad. His Amis always seemed to get on the wrong side of the police despite never actually doing anything wrong.
“R what the actual fuck happened?” Bahorel hissed as he slid into a seat next to the cynic.
“As you can see,” R gestured grandly with his arm that wasn’t in a sling, “my fiancé couldn’t outthink the police this time.” R gave out a heavy sigh. “No, that’s not fair to him. The fucking pigs decided to go to every known protest location and then some just to catch us off guard which they obviously did. They attacked us before we even got a chance to protest what we went there to protest.” Bahorel could cry at the defeated look in R’s eyes.
“How’s Enj?”
“Not good Baz. Not good at all. He…” R trailed off at the sight of Enj at the front of the room to where he had started to speak and pace.
Normally proud shoulders looked slumped under the weight of the world. He ran his hand through hair more often than he usually did making his curls stand on end. Perhaps most concerning of all, Enjorlas had an arm firmly clutched to his side where a bruise was visible through the thin fabric of his shirt.
“Police baton to the ribs. He swears they are only bruised and wouldn’t let the nurse take a X-Ray even after I was discharged.” R whispered noticing where Bahorel’s gaze had fixed.
“Is he insane?” He desperately tried not to shout.
“To be determined.” R said grimly and turned to watch his Apollo with concerned but encouraging eyes.
The meeting continued on like that until Enjorlas finally adjourned it, trying and failing to disguise a wince as he lifted his arm to ring the bell at the front of the room.
“‘Aire can I stop by your apartment later?” Bahorel asked not taking his eyes off of Enj who was pale and swaying as he talked to Courfeyrac and Combeferre.
“Uh… yeah...sure” Grantaire said distractedly.
“I’ll be over as soon as you manage to get him home.”
“Thanks Baz.” R flashed him a tired, toothy grin as he went to wrangle his fiancé.
Bahorel went to talk to Cosette. Apparently Eponine was still with Marius at the hospital because he had gotten a severe concussion and Grantaire had broken his arm trying to keep more police officers away from him.
Bahorel was silently planning how he was going to rain legal hell on the precinct that was behind this offense on his family.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from R saying that he had gotten Enj home. Bahorel seemed to either have lost track of time or Enj really was in bad shape.
When Baz got to the door of their apartment it swung open before he even knocked. There was a wild eyed R in the doorway and in the distance he could see Enj on their balcony.
“Are you okay R?” Bahorel confronted the immediate problem.
“Me? I’m totally fine. I’m about to lock myself in my studio until he stops drinking.” Grantaire moved to let him in and went immediately to go lock himself away without another word from Bahorel.
He knew R would be fine but he knew how hard it was for him to stay sober especially on nights like these. Nights where he desired to gain comfort from the bottom of the bottle like Enjorlas seemed to be doing. An activity that was very out of character for the golden leader.
Bahorel walked slowly over to the balcony.
The cool night air could be felt through the open doors. Enjorlas was leaning over the balcony railing propped up on his elbows. He had a bottle of wine in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other.
“Don’t start. I am well aware that I shouldn’t have either of the things that I do but R and I talked the wine through and this is the only cigarette I own.” Enj said without looking behind him.
“I’m not here to nag you about your habits. I’m here because I’m concerned about you Enj.” Bahorel took the spot next to him on the balcony with a sigh.
“Which part? The injuries or the fact that I kinda hate myself at the moment.” Enjorlas let out a bitter laugh that turned into a grimace.
“Both. But let’s start with the ribs.” Bahorel said level headedly. He knew Enj was looking for a fight but no one was willing to give it to him. “Are you absolutely sure they are not broken.”
“ I am. I had Joly check them while R was sleeping after the protest.”
“Did you tell him that you did this?” Enjorlas’s eyes went glassy for a second.
“I...uh… Maybe?” He said.
“No. You didn’t. He is extremely concerned so talk to him in the morning.” Bahorel told him gently.
“ I will. I guess I got too caught up in the aftermath that I forgot.” Enj ran his hand with the cigarette through his hair seeming to forget that it existed.
“You're lucky that it isn't lit.” Bahorel said nodding to the cigarette.
“Ugh fuck it.” Enj said and threw it into a trash can that was on the balcony.
“Enjorlas. Tell me what’s wrong. It’s eating you up. “
“ It’s just...it’s my job to protect the people who come to our protests. Or at least make sure they are prepared. But I wasn’t so they weren’t.” Enj took a pull from the bottle in front to him. “I love the world and the people in it. It’s just… they don't seem to like me very much back.” Enjorlas’s face was distant. “I just want a better future for those that come after us. I don’t want them to have to get beaten by cops just to make a small dent in the minds of others. I don’t want them to have to go through the things we’ve had to. I don’t want my kid to grow up in a world like we did.” Enj looked so old in that one second that Bahorel was struck speechless. He knew Enjorlas held these convictions but he never knew how much the lack of progress killed Enj.
“Enjorlas,” Bahorel said softly, “I know you want it to, but the world isn’t going to change all at once overnight. It takes years for change to happen. And in the years the Amis has been running we have done so much you have done so much.” He said with conviction. He powered on before Enjorlas could interrupt him. “You helped start a youth shelter. The bail fund that you brainstormed and got up and running is thriving. Hell because of the Amis our shitty mayor was forced to step down and you spearheaded the campaign for the mayor who is changing things for the better to take his place. You have done so much you just can’t see it because you see so much at once.” Bahorel gave him a brilliant smile “Every once and a while you need to look at what you have directly in front of you because where I stand you are pretty fucking great and I know so many people who would agree with me.”
“Baz…” Enj said before setting his bottle down and hugging him extremely tight. Bahorel hugged him back as hard as he dared for the sake of Enjorlas’s ribs.
When Enj pulled away his eyes were red and there was a wet spot on Bahorel’s shirt.
“Thank you Bahorel.” Enj smiled at him. This time it looked a little less sad and a little more hopeful.
“It’s no problem Enj. You are my friend. More important you are family. Whatever you need.” He hesitated. “I need to go before the bus stops running. I can stay if you need though?”
“Go home Baz. You need rest. Can you take the wine with you when you go? And there is one in the refrigerator if you can take that one as well?” Enj asked.
“Yessir” Bahorel said with a grin and a sarcastic salute.
When Bahorel went inside he saw R leave his studio and go to where Enj was. He didn���t know if it was some magic couples intuition or if Enjorlas had texted Grantaire but either way he was glad that they had each other.
Bahorel however was extremely glad to have two mostly full bottles of expensive wine to keep him company.
He’d talk his own feelings out with Enj another day. A day when Enj wasn’t so stressed and when he wasn’t so scarily calm. But for now watching shitty TV and drinking expensive wine would have to do.
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