hellfire

[darrenandaaron]

Handsome Hobo by relenafanel, swing_set13 (wordcount: 8,853)

Derek should probably stop rummaging through garbage if he doesn't want people to assume he's homeless.

[darrenandaaron]

When You’re Playing With Desire by vivalamusaine (wordcount: 62,829)

One night stands are supposed to be just that- A one night stand.

But Enjolras can't seem to tear himself away from Grantaire after theirs.

[darrenandaaron]

Take This Lonely Heart by anivhee (wordcount: 24,860)

Enjolras has always been blessed with strong convictions. For one, he's positive he's not the type to dabble in casual hookups. And more importantly, Enjolras is sure Grantaire doesn't see him as relationship material.

But as it turns out, just because you're certain doesn't mean you're right.

[darrenandaaron]

Welcome to the Twenty-First Century, fellow millennial trash by mistspinners (wordcount: 18,797)

It’d been two days before Enjolras caught on, but in those two days, Courfeyrac had matched him with not just all of Theta Delta Sigma, but also every bicurious Republican on campus. Some of them had sent him messages, clearly hoping to bait him into debating them, while others had sent…other things.

Courfeyrac, as the undisputed bane of Enjolras’s life, had taken particular pleasure in responding to the latter with winky face emojis and quotes from The Bee Movie.

Or: In which an interfraternity challenge, late-night Tinder conversations, and copious amounts of independently brewed coffee leads to the romance of the century. Featuring asexual Enjolras, unorthodox recruitment tactics, and chaos demons in the form of your college roommates.

[darrenandaaron]

A Cat called Trash Can by ShitpostingfromtheBarricade (wordcount: 12,025)

Since the day Enjolras had shown up on Grantaire’s doorstep, desperate and clutching a noisy, wriggling lump to his chest inside of an oddly purple sweatshirt, Grantaire can honestly say his life has only improved. Because of the cat, of course.

At any rate, it’s not as though he comes over that often, just when he’s having a bad day. Or a good day. Or a day that he’s been around too many people, or a day that he’s been around no one, or a day that he wants an excuse to stare at his uber-hot neighbor.

All told, he usually stops by Enjolras’s apartment a perfectly respectable several times a week.

[darrenandaaron]

Six Times Enjolras Wasn’t Expecting to Spend Valentine’s With Grantaire (and the one time he did it on purpose) by catharsia (wordcount: 5,916)

Everything goes as planned, right up until the moment they get to the cinema and start queuing for popcorn and the person in the line before them does a slight double take and says, 'Apollo?'

'Grantaire,' says Enjolras in recognition. 'It's been -'

'A year. Exactly. Weird, huh?' Grantaire is smiling, an easy thing that seems to freeze in place a little as he looks at Combeferre. 'Who's this?'

[darrenandaaron]

The Wisdom to Know the Difference by zade (wordcount: 10,529)

“I’m not sure what happened,” Grantaire admits to Combeferre. His arm is in a cast, and he can feel the tight stretch on stitches on his forehead, but the most pertinent problem really is the panic growing in his belly. His drawing arm is in a cast. The arm he uses to make art, the only part of him that really truly needs to be functional for him to have the future he wants, and it’s in a cast, and he has no idea what he did.

Combeferre’s face turns concerned. “Your head wound didn’t look bad enough for a concussion…” He pauses, eyebrows near touching in thought. He grabs Grantaire’s chart off the bed and flips through it. The tension leaves his eyebrows and they instead skyrocket towards his hairline. “Your blood alcohol level was extremely high, Grantaire. Do you remember drinking?” -- For The March Hair, based on a heart wrenching picture

[darrenandaaron]

Code Red by Enjoloras (wordcount: 2,028)

Les Amis were facing an emergency. Code red, Bossuet had joked, before they'd all become aware of the severity of the situation. According to Combeferre it had now been almost twenty hours of complete radio silence.

Enjolras was missing.

For anyone else in the group to unexpectedly go quiet wouldn't have been too big of a deal – maybe they were busy, or just didn't want to talk to people for a while. People had lives outside of the group, after all. Other friends, family, commitments...

But Enjolras?

Enjolras, who was practically glued to his phone for social networking purposes, just falling off the face of the earth? Unheard of.

Unheard of, and definitely cause for concern.

[darrenandaaron]

I mistle-totally want to kiss you! by AnnaBolena (wordcount: 1,832)

It should have been a foolproof plan. Enjolras had done research. Time and effort had gone into the formulating of said plan. And yet –

a.k.a. Enjolras has careful plans to smooch Grantaire this Holiday Season.

[darrenandaaron]

Mistletoe Macchiato by edgy_fluffball (wordcount: 2,051)

Enjolras is looking for a place to sit and work. He witnesses something that gets his blood boiling.

[darrenandaaron]

I Don’t Want To Spend Another Christmas Without You by DesertLily (wordcount: 1,366)

Reincarnation & Soulmate AU where everyone is born with the date they’ll meet their soulmate branded on their arm.

25.12.18. Grantaire had practically spent his entire life counting down to that day. The day where his dreams of a god and his blonde curls would finally fall back into reality. The day where he’d meet his elusive soulmate. The day he hoped to finally meet Enjolras again. He strived for nothing but perfection for the day. He strived to prove his worth.

[darrenandaaron]

They Deserve to Get Each Other by sigh_no_more (wordcount: 4,032)

Jehan looked so miserable at getting Grantaire, the other Amis most infamous for being a difficult person to present shop for that Courfeyrac said, “If it makes you feel better, I got Enjolras.”

Jehan let out a bark of laughter. “That does make me feel better.”

“They're both impossible.”

“They deserve to get each other .”

Courfeyrac gasped. “They do deserve to get each other.”

Courfeyrac and Jehan are either the best or worst Secret Santas, depending on who you ask.

[darrenandaaron]

You’re Just Too Good to Be True by radienceofthefuture (wordcount: 1,600)

Joly vibrates with excitement as he introduces them, and Grantaire laughs fondly. Joly and Bossuet had overwhelmingly positive things to say about this guy in advance, and it’s clear from watching them interact that Grantaire holds them in the same esteem. He smiles at Combeferre, shakes hands with Courfeyrac, then turns to Enjolras and–

Oh, come on.

(Or: the one where Enjolras never notices when people are flirting with him.)

[darrenandaaron]

(We Were) Reaching In The Dark by lady_ragnell (wordcount: 2,975)

Enjolras starts attending meetings for a Soulmate Loss Support Group, and meets Grantaire.

[darrenandaaron]

Baby, You Get Me Hard(ware, At Your Hardware Store) by dannyPURO (wordcount: 3,748)

Enjolras moved into the apartment above the little hardware store because it was cheap. He did not pick it for the decor. He did not pick it for the noticeable lack of centralized heating and air conditioning. He did not pick it for the loud clattering from downstairs that awakens him every morning at 8:45 sharp. He did not pick it for the lack of specific address that means he, as well the residents of the other two apartments in the building, must go downstairs to fetch his mail every day.

“Apollo!”

Oh.

Enjolras did not pick this apartment for the man who works here Mondays through Thursdays, or his tattoos, or his crooked grin, or the infuriating way he always tries to analyze whatever it is he needs to purchase in the most inaccurate way he can.

[darrenandaaron]

One Night Only by pyrrhlc (wordcount: 7,758)

The most disappointing thing about being a blind man in a rock band is that Grantaire has no idea how badass they look. Éponine assures him that they look very badass.

Rock Band AU.

[darrenandaaron]

Soul, Trapped in Canvas by ember_firedrake (wordcount: 21,474)

"Who is it?"

He looks down at his paper. It's the man from his dream, he realizes. It's not a perfect likeness—but the furrowed brow is there, the slope of his nose, the proud curve of his lips. The man’s hair is perhaps wilder in the sketch than in the dream, and he realizes he has spent too long considering how this sketch compares to a man that is a figment of his subconscious.

He smiles wryly at the sketch, and says, "It's Apollo."