Enjolras didn't know how he ended up with a beer in hand. He also couldn't remember how he ended up in a twisted game of Truth or Dare (or as 'Ferre called it, "Who Do You Like or Do A Sexual Stunt").

Currently, Courfeyrac was ordering poor little Jehan to do a striptease to "Baby" by Justin Bieber, which was currently blasting from Feuilly's ipod. Enjolras couldn't contain amusement at the moment, for people were now throwing money at the poet which caused him to become quite flustered.

Enjolras hoped he would be able to slip away during this, but as soon as he began to rise, Jehan ratted him out. "No way, Enjolras! You're staying right here!" The lithe blonde huffed softly, hands on his bare hips. Jehan had now gotten down to just a pair of floral briefs.

So the blonde leader sat back down with a resigned huff, and watched the game roll on.

The game so far consisted of himself, Jehan, Courfeyrac, Grantaire, Feuilly, Joly, and Cosette. On the opposite side of Courfeyrac's living room was Combeferre, Bahorel, Bossuet, Marius, and Eponine. It was clear that 'Ponine was winning everyone's money at the table, and poor Bossuet was already out of chips.

The song ended and Jehan did a small curtsy, tossing a pansy from his braid in the direction of Courfeyrac. Bright yellow pants and an ugly green daisy sweater were put back onto his lithe frame before he directed his attention to Grantaire.

"Grantaire! Truth or Dare!" Jehan chirped as he began tucking little wildflowers into Cosette's blonde locks.

Bottle at his mouth, the cynic took a long sip before turning back to the poet. "...Dare."

The group 'oohed' collectively, Cosette giving a small giggle when she shared a small glance with Jehan.

"I dare you to... Wear Enjolras' underwear on your head for the rest of the game." Jehan and Courfeyrac high-fived, but Grantaire only chuckled and glanced at Enjolras before letting his gaze drop to Enjolras' lap.

"If you will permit it, Apollo." The cynic's words were followed with a devilish grin.

"I suppose." Enjolras grumbled out, getting up and moving to the bathroom to remove his undergarments.

And that is how Grantaire ended up with a bare of red briefs on his head.

Another swig of alcohol, and Grantaire's gaze fell upon Enjolras once more.

"Enjolras. Truth or dare."

The leader gave a sigh. Did he risk a secret? Knowing Grantaire, it would be harsh or completely embarrassing. Or did he risk the inevitable, a sexual act of some sort? It was a lose-lose situation, of course. Perhaps Grantaire would be too drunk to think of anything quite witty enough...

"Dare." Enjolras showed no sign of fear or hesitancy. He looked like a badass.

"Alright. I dare you to..." The pause stretched for quite a bit as the alcoholic pondered over his drink. Finally, he snapped his fingers. "I dare you to dress up in one of Cosette's evening gowns."

Everyone in the circle was now in stitches. Excluding Enjolras, of course. Cosette was laughing the most. "I'll go get the one that matches your eyes!" She giggled as she hurried off to Marius' room. She kept a few outfits at his apartment in case she ended up spending the night.

Enjolras knew it was no use protesting. However, he still sputtered and refused and practically threw a punch at that idiot Grantaire as they hauled him off to Courfeyrac's bedroom to shove him into the rather gorgeous dress.

The dress was a dark blue that came in at the middle. It had a slight ruffling throughout, and a low dipping v-neck. And Enjolras looked quite stunning in it. Though he lacked the breasts, he had nice curves for a man. He shaved regularly, including his legs. His feet were well taken care of and smooth, toenails trimmed neatly. His fingernails were the same way. With his hair flowing down to his shoulders, he looked nearly like a flat-chested woman. An extremely attractive one at that.

Blue eyes that contained unamusement were casted about the room. The card game had stopped once Bahorel had pointed out their fearless leader in the stunning dress.

No one really knew what to say. Enjolras looked genuinely attractive. He looked hot. He looked gorgeous.

The blonde now perched on the couch, his one leg crossed over the other like a proper lady. He had seen his mother doing the same multiple times. He had learned from her also that if you look the part, act the part.

And so he did. If they wanted him to dress like a woman, he'd sit like one as well.

The game proceeded on, and no one commented on Enjolras' attire anymore. They were well aware that any commenting would probably guarantee them death or torture. Or blackmail. So they shut up for once, and the game only stopped once Jehan had passed out in Courfeyrac's lap and mostly everyone was too drunk to continue on with the game.

Friends began departing, designated drivers beginning to leave with drunk friends in tow. And Enjolras found himself not being able to locate his clothing. It might've been the fact he was tipsy, however. With permission from Courfeyrac, he decided to instead go to bed in Marius' room. He was going home with Cosette tonight, so the room would be empty. And there was no way that Enjolras was sleeping in Courfeyrac's room.

Enjolras entered the man's room, and went to hunt in his drawers and closet for some sort of pajamas. The dress was actually quite soft, but it wasn't his and he didn't want to wrinkle it. As he searched, he came upon the full-body mirror on the opposite wall from the closet. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of himself. He even had to admit, he looked nice. He actually felt nice too.

Shaking his head, he turned back to the closet. Most of it was Cosette's stuff, really. Stilettos and dresses. Flats and floral sweaters.

Before he knew it, he was trying on a pair of strappy black high heels. And then he was at the bureau, a tube of lipstick in one hand and eyeliner in the other.

What was he doing?

Was he truly enjoying dressing up as a member of the opposite sex? Enjolras was all for free rights, and he supported crossdressers and drag queens alike. But he could never imagine himself doing something so...odd to him. He was an all-business kind of man who wanted equal rights! Not some dancer at a gay bar. Yet he... It just felt so right. He felt...attractive.

His grip tightened on the tube of lipstick as he slowly applied it to his own lips. It felt strange, nothing like the chapstick he usually put on in the mirror. Eyeliner was applied, and it made his eyes really pop. This felt so natural. The applying, the look... He liked it. Enjolras nearly liked it more than debates or Robespierre.

But he would keep it a secret.

No one could find out that Enjolras wore dresses.

And liked it.