One Shot Collection

There Right There! (Les Misérables)

It was a late night at the tavern, and everyone was bored and had lost a bit of the zeal that had made them come to this surprise meeting in the first place.

"My one love is Patria," Enjolras had said, as if it explained everything when asked who his lover was. It was clear that there was someone in his life. But the way Enjolras was acting had got some of the members arguing.

"He's not gay, Jehan! I'm his best friend! He would've told me!" Combeferre retorted as the disagreements continued.

"Closets. Don't forget about that dreaded closet," Jehan said, rubbing his forehead.

"Well, look there! Right there!" Bahorel exclaimed, pointing at the leader in red. "Look at his how in shape he is! He looks on point! He's got to be gay!"

"Well, that's no reason to assume anything. Any of this could mean he's just fancy," Feuilly suggested.

"Look at how his hair is done like a professional--wait, is he wearing silk socks? You can't tell me that's not a bit flamboyant," Courfeyrac responded, sipping some water to try and stay awake. This had been going on too long.

"Not everyone who's gay wears silk socks and does their hair, Courfeyrac," Combeferre said, and he stopped adjusting his shoe. "For example, I wear--"

"You're not a good example, mon amour," Courfeyrac laughed.

This was certainly a predicament. Could they assume that Enjolras was gay? After all, Eponine had given reason previously that he could just be European.

"They bring their sons up differently when your rich; they have playing very bizarre sports. I've seen them," She added.

"Well, that explains where this one came from," Feuilly messed up Jehan's hair playfully, "But as we know, the French go either way."

"Wait! There! That smirking doesn't happen on straight guys! I've seen it so many times on Montparnasse. He always does that to me just to tick me off. That settles that!" Eponine announced, sitting back in her chair.

Jehan slowly turned to face her. He didn't look happy. "Montparnasse is not straight. He's gorgeous, that's what he is." He sat back with a quite silly-looking smile on his face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Courfeyrac shouted, pointing at Marius. "You saw what happened when he was stretching earlier! I'm fairly certain Enjolras has himself waxed. Is that something you straight people do?" Marius shrugged. How was he supposed to know what other straight people did?

"People do have different cultures," Joly shrugged. "It's not that big of a deal if he shows up in full drag and starts dancing a hula." He rethought his statement. "Okay, if Enjolras specifically did that, I'd want to get him some medical attention. But if anyone else in here did, I feel like I shouldn't be able to say I wouldn't question you, but I can."

"Well, even if he's straight, I've got an afternoon free on the weekend," Musichetta chimed in.

Bossuet and Joly both hugged her protectively. "Not anymore."

"I know," she sighed. "Now I've got you two I'll never get a quiet moment." She took one look at their rejected faces and kissed each of them on the cheek. "Good thing regular life wasn't my style anyway. Besides, I've wanted to just make his acquaintance and be friends, just friends."

But the answer still remained unfound. Was Enjolras gay, or European?

Marius raised his hand timidly. "I have an idea."

"Go ahead." Combeferre said, getting tired of the debate.

"Monsieur," Marius said quietly, and Enjolras looked up. "Yes?"

"You said you've been involved with Patria for how long?"

"Two years," Enjolras replied distractedly.

"What was your name again?" Marius asked him.

"Enjolras." He was answering very quickly as he scrubbed off the table, which someone had spilled on.

"And your boyfriend's name is?"

At this moment, Courfeyrac dropped onto the bench beside Combeferre and said very loudly, "Handsome, have I told you lately that you are the Combeferre-est of them all?"

Combeferre, in response, buried his face in his shoulder. "Please, I beg of you, stop."

"Grantaire," Enjolras said, then slapped a hand across his mouth. "Oh! Sorry! I misunderstood you, I thought you meant best friend."

Combeferre sat up. "Hey!"

"I mean-" But Enjolras didn't get the chance to fix his answer, because at that moment, a bar stool spun around with a piercing squeak.

Grantaire was sitting in it, looking very displeased. "You lying little son of a noble. What? Are you even ashamed to be seen with me in public? Figures." he slid off the chair, took another big swig of his drink, then climbed up on top of a table.

"Citizens of France, I have a huge announcement to make! The leader you all know and adore is both gay and European!" Enjolras tried to protest, but Grantaire hushed him. "No matter what he says. He's been seeing me, as hard as that may be to believe. Patria isn't even real! The motherland France? That's the best you could come up with? Apollo, you need to stop being such a closet case."

"I'm straight!" Enjolras snapped, his face turning as red as his coat.

Grantaire looked him up and down, sipping his drink. "Well, you sure weren't last night."

A collective "oooh" could be heard around the tavern, and Bahorel even had the nerve to shout, "Have a good night, Enjolras?"

"So he's both!" Jehan shouted.

"Okay, fine, fine, I'm gay, just stop screaming," Enjolras yelled over the din, covering his ears.

Grantaire jumped off the table and hugged him, and Enjolras relaxed, accepting the hug. As the pair kissed, the whole building cheered. The mystery had been solved.