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Good Things Come to Those In Togas

Summary:

Enjolras hates Halloween. He hates the tacky costumes, the sickening amounts of candy involved, the loud and awful parties, and most of all, he hates that the holiday’s blasted traditions brought him to stand in front of Grantaire at a children’s Halloween party wearing a toga.

Notes:

First fic of the fandom and well...ever. I'm glad that my first piece was part of the cool Les Mis Trick or Treat (http://lmtrickortreat.tumblr.com/). I hope achilleus enjoys her treat! I had a lot of fun writing it.

Work Text:

Enjolras hates Halloween. He hates the tacky costumes, the sickening amounts of candy involved, the loud and awful parties, and most of all, he hates that the holiday’s blasted traditions brought him to stand in front of Grantaire at a children’s Halloween party wearing a toga. A fucking toga.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire says, his shocked expression curling into a smirk, “Nice...flower crown.”

“Thanks,” Enjolras says automatically, and curses his well-bred manners. “Um,” he follows up with, because his brain is still frozen. Grantaire’s blue eyes are glowing with mirth now, and Enjolras is distracted by them.

“Angel!” A voice cries somewhere behind Enjolras. He turns just in time to catch Alexander, a hurricane of a boy who’s even more excitable than usual due to the sheer amount of sugar accessible to him today. Enjolras winces and gently nudges the wooden sword in Alex’s hand so it isn’t angled towards his back. He brushes at the light brown hair peeking out of the little boy’s gladiator helmet. Alex turns up his big blue eyes at Enjolras and whines, “I thought you were going to get some more blood punch!”

Enjolras blinks. That’s right, that’s what he was doing before he bumped into Grantaire. Who Enjolras can tell is still standing behind him because bemusement is rolling towards him in waves. “Sorry ‘Xander, I was on my way but I met a friend.” Enjolras sneaks a glance over his shoulder. Grantaire grins at him before grabbing a cup from the party table.

“Hey bud, sorry to keep you from your punch. I’m R.” He holds out the cup like a peace offering.

Alex turns his cheek against Enjolras’ toga (he still can’t believe he’s dealing with this situation while wearing a toga) to eye Grantaire suspiciously. His expression immediately clears though, and he exclaims delightedly, “You’re the guy who painted my face!”

Enjolras whips his head to look at Grantaire, but he only chuckles and say, “Yep, that’s me! How’re you liking your lion, kid?”

Alex lets go of Enjolras to face Grantaire with his hands on his hips. “It’s great, thank you, but I am not a kid,” he holds out his sword and declares, “I am a mighty gladiator and I can challenge you whenever I want!”

Grantaire crooks an eyebrow at that. He stands up so he’s towering over the little boy and says, “Oh yeah? How about right now?”

Alex simply crosses his arms, defiant and unafraid. “Of course not! Look how many innocent civilians are here, we can’t involve them. Plus, you wouldn’t want to lose with this many people watching anyway.” A cheeky smirk unfurls across his little face.

Grantaire gives a low whistle, “Cocky aren’t you, kid? Trying to impress Angel here?”

At that comment a bright red blush blooms across Alex’s face, “O-only I can call him that!”

Enjolras steps forward with an arm around Alex’s shoulder before he slips into a massive sulk. “Alright Alexander, I think it’s about time we get back, hm? You’re parents will be home soon.”

“I’ll walk you guys.” Grantaire puts in immediately.

Enjolras hesitates, but relents. “Okay. Come on ‘Xander, put on your jacket.”

Once they’re outside and the crisp October air is working at the warm apple cider in their bellies, Enjolras falls into step with Grantaire a little way behind Alex, who is running ahead while kicking up leaves that still litter the streets.

“He calls me that because he can’t pronounce my name.” Enjolras says quietly.

Grantaire barks out a laugh, “I figured.” He watches Alex for a minute, contemplative. “That’s Marius’ and Cosette’s kid, right?” At Enjolras’ nod he continues, “He’s got his smirk and her eyes. I never pegged you for the children type.”

“I never pegged you for the face painting type.” Enjolras shoots back.

Grantaire laughs again, a light and easy one that Enjolras immediately wants to hear more of. “Touche.”

They walk for a bit in mutual silence. As they approach Marius’ and Cosette’s apartment Enjolras looks at Grantaire, with his wild hair and paint-stained hands, his cutting arguments and backhanded encouragement, and blurts out before he loses the nerve, “I’m planning to get some coffee after I drop Alex off. Would you like to join me?”

Grantaire stops walking and stares at him for a moment, and Enjolras thinks that he’s made a horrible, embarrassing mistake, but then his face breaks out into his trademark smirk and he says, “Sure, but only if you don’t change.”

And well, Enjolras has already had this toga on for the entire evening, what’s a few hours more?