Summary: Grantaire can be kind of an arsehole (and he means to be). Enjolras can be kind of a jerk (but he never means to be). Everything is kind of absolutely Bahorel's fault.
Once Bahorel joins them, it becomes no longer viable to meet in Combeferre's house. The added body and noise aside, with the addition of Bahorel they stop being a group of three friends discussing political developments, and become a group of like-minded individuals looking to affect change. Not that they don't like Bahorel, because of course they do, but Enjolras, Combeferre and Courfeyrac understand each other completely, and they know each other's positions on issues before they begin to speak about them. Bahorel is different. There is an ease to the way he slips into their group, but not always in the merging of their opinions. But with Bahorel comes genuine debate that isn't facilitated by someone playing reluctant devil's advocate; debate that demands to be heard.
With that in mind, they move their group from the quiet of Combeferre's home, to the mess and noise and public of the Musain café. The first meeting of Les Amis de l'ABC, Bahorel cries for a good minute and a half about them all growing up to be proper anarchists. And while Enjolras takes objection to the term - he doesn't want violence, though he understands the necessity of it; doesn't want anyone to get hurt, doesn't want the legitimacy of their group to be traded for some cheap adrenaline and burning muscles - he does agree with the sentiment. The time for idle talk in quiet corners has passed. Change does not come without action, and action needs a voice. And it needs to start somewhere where others can hear its call. The Musain will be their Tennis Court.
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During their second official meeting Enjolras runs his voice half horse trying to talk over the noise coming from the counter. The man at the centre of the group of people spends the whole night telling long-winded stories in a voice that carries throughout the café, and makes everyone around him laugh and groan in equal measure. Enjolras tries not to pay attention and carries on talking regardless of the noise, but he can't help but glance over every now and then. There is a clear line of sight between him and the other man, as if he has made it that way, and every time Enjolras sneaks a look he is staring right at him, even as he charms his audience. As if he wants to tell his stories directly to Enjolras.
At the end of the meeting Bahorel calls out to the grinning man, and introduces him as a friend from his boxing class. Grantaire comes to them armed with cynicism and apathy and alcohol on his breath. When Bahorel tells him what they're here for, he scoffs loudly and says "Another group of rich kids trying to boost their resume? Come on, Bahorel, I thought you were done with that, same as me" and Enjolras is too frustrated with his attitude - too immediately on guard when faced with someone who will not choose a side - to notice that, in the five or so minutes Enjolras takes to tell him why he's wrong, not all of his sighs are dismissive.
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Enjolras had not expected to see Grantaire again, except perhaps casually around town or at the Musain, and so he does not even try to hide his surprise when he sees him next, sitting at their meeting table already talking with Bahorel.
He sighs his non-dismissive sighs with far more regularity this time - almost fond, though they do not know each other well enough for fondness - and Enjolras is about to tell him to find someone who can better appreciate what those sighs imply in the way that he deserves, when Bahorel looks at his watch, jumps slightly, and interrupts him to remind Grantaire that he has an early class in the morning and he should go home to sleep. Grantaire scoffs at the reminder and tells him offhandedly that he dropped out of university because he doesn't believe in it anymore.
It takes ten minutes and a grudging laugh from Combeferre, the traitor, for Enjolras' speech on the importance of education to trail off into a brief, sullen silence. Grantaire has spent the last five minutes of it with his head buried in his arms on the table, periodically murmuring things Enjolras isn't interested in listening to, although the words "pretty" and "painful" do make repeat appearances. Bahorel is practically crying with laughter and Combeferre and Courfeyrac have cracked more than a few smiles and Enjolras will get them back for their betrayal later, but there are more important things. He needs to make Grantaire see, needs to make him understand the uselessness of throwing away the education easily offered to him for no good reason, the insidiousness of apathy and inaction to the aid of those who claim others to be worth less than them.
He strides over to stand across the table from Grantaire's bent and curly head, and slams his palm down on the wooden bench. It is a slow night at the Musain, and there are no customers. The owner is in the back room cleaning, but Grantaire is so close and not watching and he jumps at the noise, head shooting up from his arms, startled. He stares up at Enjolras and his eyes are bright and shining and there is colour on his cheeks.
He whispers "Apollo", and for a moment Enjolras is so mad that he doesn't even notice Grantaire leave.
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Once Grantaire slinks away, their gathering breaks up quickly. Enjolras would prefer to stay behind to make sure that Courfeyrac and Bahorel leave safely, would prefer not to leave anyone behind, but Combeferre has some kind of meeting with a university tomorrow and needs to be well rested, and Enjolras will not risk waking him up when he gets back to his house if he doesn't go with him now.
As he's packing his laptop into his bag, Enjolras can't help but overhear Bahorel and Courfeyrac's conversation. Bahorel's eyes are still damp, and he laughs out "That was better than I ever dared hope", and if Enjolras wondered why he invited Grantaire along to their meeting despite him being openly uninterested in their ideals, he knows now. "Grantaire looked at him like he saw a god the other day, and then he started talking. I mean, R is drawn to people who believe in things even if he doesn't want to admit it, but he looked at Enjolras like he hung the moon and stars with his faith alone." He laughs again to soften the impact of his words, but Enjolras feels like a vice has been tightened around his chest, Bahorel's frankness making his breath come short and sharp. He can't be that for someone else. He has nothing to give to another person, no part of his body or his time that he can spare for anything other than fighting for a change. He values individuals, of course; his friends are everything to him, but apart from those few exceptions, Enjolras has always been more interested in humanity as a whole, in changing the human condition rather than focusing on any particular person. He has no time for romance, especially not with someone who belittles his ideals.
Bahorel is still talking. "God, if it was a cartoon his eyes would've turned into hearts or something. I've never seen someone fall so fast. He wants Enjolras to bang him so badly."
Here, Courfeyrac laughs along with Bahorel, but when they stop, his voice is serious. "You have to tell him Enjolras probably won't ever be interested. It's just, I don't want him to get hurt because of this, and Enjolras would hate it if he was, too. He would only be mad at himself." And Enjolras can't listen to this conversation anymore. He feels his stomach in his feet as he hurries outside to catch up with Combeferre.
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Enjolras realises that he's being hypocritical about the whole school thing. He may not always be observant when it comes to other people, but he is self-aware, and he knows that he made conscious choices that got him expelled, with the express knowledge that expulsion was the likely result. And while he may not have dropped out, he as good as did; like Grantaire, he too was disenfranchised with the system and wanted out, but he left with a bang, rather than a sigh. He did it because he believed so completely in what he was saying and doing, because he could not sit quietly and let things just happen to people around him, let them be stopped from reaching their true potential, from gaining their freedom. Not simply because he didn't want to go anymore.
Enjolras does not regret doing anything that led to his multiple expulsions. But it's possible he does resent never finishing lycée, and it is equally possible he may have used Grantaire's decision to leave as an outlet for his own feelings of inadequacy for failing the education that he preaches so passionately. It wasn't fair of him, but he hadn't been able to stop himself. Just the fact that Grantaire hadn't cared that he was throwing away the opportunities life gave him, that he had seen education as a frivolous activity to be put down at will, goes against everything they stand for.
Enjolras is also confused at himself, for the way he reacted to the knowledge that Grantaire is interested in him. He has seen both Bahorel and Courfeyrac giving him second looks. There had been a week or so when they were fourteen when Combeferre had blushed and stuttered around him so much that, more than once, Enjolras had legitimately feared that his friend was dying; and he is closer than Combeferre than anyone, Courfeyrac a close second.
He knows that not everyone who stops to listen to him talk does so because of what he has to say. He knows he is not the one affected by what they fight for, but he gets noticed for the way he looks, and he uses that to spread awareness and encourage people to come along to rallies; to listen to what is being said, and see what is being done. It has never stopped him from approaching people before.
Enjolras does not understand why it feels different with Grantaire, and he doesn't like that he's allowing it to affect him so.