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Spin, Hugo, spin!

making Victor Hugo turn in his grave since 1885


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The Les Mis Anon Kink Meme, Round 8
and I am winterborn
10littlebullets wrote in makinghugospin
Since LJ seems to have finally capitulated to the Russian government and is now subject to Russian anti-obscenity laws, I'm not going to take a chance on sudden deletions. The Les Mis kinkmeme now lives at https://lesmiskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/. (Round 8 here.) Everything has been backed up there. The LJ kinkmeme will stay up, but is now closed to new comments.

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Re: more e/r bootkink, please? FILL 2/?

(Anonymous)
[thank you for the comments so far!]

*

“You should know not to take me at my word, Enjolras. I was merely –” Grantaire licks his lips, which are dry with his sudden daring “- using metaphor. Painting you a picture of my position and perspective relative to your own. I would black your boots, it’s true, but – now that we find ourselves in this position – there are other ways of enjoyably passing the time, and of doing you a service.”

He looks up and finds Enjolras looking down, the austere lines of his face offset by the openly contemptuous curl of his lip. Grantaire feels the urge to turn his cheek in anticipation of being struck, but it is Enjolras’ words that land like a blow instead.

“And you think I find that any more enticing, do you?”

He jerks his foot back to the floor, the heel leaving its indent sharp on the cloth of Grantaire’s trousers.

“Do you think I haven’t seen the way you look at me? I’m not as ignorant of seduction as you all may think, but I’ve never had any use for it and I’m certainly immune to this parody of it from you.”

“I wasn’t – I wasn’t being entirely serious.”

“No, of course you weren’t. And you expect me to find that a good omen? Don’t trifle with me, Grantaire, I’m not one of your grisettes, your flower-sellers. And I don’t deal in metaphor, when the times and our objectives demand that we speak plainly.”

He places his foot back on Grantaire’s thigh.

“Get on with it if you want to prove yourself, or get away from me entirely.”

Grantaire, giving up all attempt at humour, bows his head with a certain resolution. One hand tightens around the cloth and the other once more cradles the heel of Enjolras’ boot. He brings the cloth to his mouth to wet it and then begins to run the rag over the leather.
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Re: more e/r bootkink, please? FILL 3b/?

(Anonymous)
[part 3a above, sorry!]

*

He thinks about the moment he first made this offer, and he pictures Enjolras having accepted him like this immediately – imagines Enjolras demanding that Grantaire prove himself, ordering him to his knees, with the others, not yet diligently departed to their respective tasks, remaining to watch Grantaire debase himself. The fact that Enjolras has chosen instead to make this a private scene between the two of them reflects nothing more than an accident of timing, but it is still an intimacy of a sort that sets his pulse racing and, yes, stirs him in inconveniently, predictably physical ways, makes the sweat spring to the back of his neck. He brings a hand up to loosen his collar.

His waistcoat is still half-unbuttoned. Grantaire drops the cloth and, with trembling fingers, undoes the rest of the buttons and shrugs the garment down his arms. He wraps the red fabric around his fingers and begins to buff the leather of Enjolras’ boot in short, repeated strokes, working it to a shine beneath his touch with more care than he has taken at this task since his schooldays, applying all the strategy and precision that he had so conspicuously let slip through his hands at the Barriere du Maine –

“Are you finished?”

Above him, Enjolras raises an eyebrow, moves to step backwards. Grantaire is suddenly aware of the harsh rhythm of his breathing, the sting of his teeth worrying his lower lip.

“Only half-finished, I fear. Come, Enjolras, let me do the other. Let me obey – let me be thorough and meticulous, let me follow your instructions to the letter – ’

Enjolras’ hand clenches in Grantaire’s hair, stilling and quietening him at once. When Grantaire looks up he lets go just as abruptly, his expression still impenetrable.

Grantaire’s scalp is tingling with the memory of the touch as Enjolras moves backwards to the nearest chair and sinks into its depth, his face in shadow, his boots lit by a streak of lamplight obligingly cast through the uncurtained window.

He slides the yet-untouched boot forward with slow deliberation, almost lazily. Despite the shadows, Grantaire feels the keen weight of Enjolras’ gaze upon him.

“Quickly, then – and functionally. You are doing this to prove yourself, I hope, not to indulge yourself.”

At that, Grantaire finds it no easy task not to give in to bitter laughter. He shuffles forward on his knees to close the distance between Enjolras and himself, but it is all that he can do not to lower himself even further, to crawl, to let Enjolras bring him to heel. To polish his boots seems too high an honour and Grantaire fights the urge to throw himself fully prostrate on the ground before Enjolras, to kiss and lick the leather beneath his mouth. It is no longer possible to say which of them might be indulging the other.
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Re: more e/r bootkink, please? FILL 3b/?

(Anonymous)
wow, i wasn't expecting an update so soon!!! this is really great anon, and so tense i'm on the edge of my seat.
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Re: more e/r bootkink, please? FILL 3b/?

(Anonymous)
op here, and i'm SO SORRY, i was on vacation with no internet, and had no idea you were filling! author anon, this is absolutely AMAZING. everything i could have hoped for and way more; thank you so much!!!
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Re: more e/r bootkink, please? FILL 3b/?

(Anonymous)
Anon, this is fantastic. Their voices are phenomenal, and your language is great.
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Re: more e/r bootkink, please? FILL 4/4 DONE

(Anonymous)
[thanks for the comments, OP and others!]
*

Grantaire shivers as he sets himself to polishing the other boot. His face shrouded in shadow, Enjolras is stiff and hard everywhere apart from where it might count, and Grantaire quite the opposite. It is pathetically soon before Grantaire finds himself having to press his palm over his cock, biting his lip on a sound more suited to animal than man.

Enjolras leans forward slightly, into the dim pool of light in which Grantaire is crouched. His expression is amazed, if revolted.

"Are you incapable of carrying out the simplest task without rendering it even more base, and degenerate into the bargain? Can’t you contain yourself around me for the smallest amount of time?"

Grantaire swallows hard, letting his eyes fall shut. He would shake his head in response, but the question hardly requires an answer.

Enjolras shifts, raises his boot and brings it up, digging its heel, sharp and precise, into the flesh of Grantaire’s shoulder. With the other, he presses, just once, against the seam of Grantaire’s trousers, as though to make certain that, yes, the man before him is desperately, hopelessly hard.

"Take care of yourself, then, if you must."

Hardly daring to breathe, Grantaire brings his hand to the fall of his trousers, scrabbles at the buttons and takes himself in hand. With what he will later regard as extraordinary presence of mind, he presses the balled-up fabric of his waistcoat to his crotch and comes with a series of uncontrolled shudders, excruciatingly aware that Enjolras appears unable or unwilling to tear his gaze away from the sight before him. It feels like an eternity has passed before he dares to look up.

Enjolras pushes the chair back and stands. His expression is one of grim fascination, as though transfixed by the wreck of an overturned carriage.

"This was hardly carrying out my directions. This was turning them to your own ends, your own desires – though I don’t know what else I expected."

With impossible composure, he turns to gather his coat and hat, and the door has fallen shut behind him in the time it takes Grantaire to bring his breathing back under control.

As the shadows lengthen, Grantaire reflects that he succeeds only at failure. That night he drinks more than the night before, but the taste of dust and leather, sharp and bitter, remains at the back of his throat for days.
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Re: more e/r bootkink, please? FILL 4/4 DONE

(Anonymous)
oh my GOD. op here, and thank you so much. this is fantastic.
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Re: more e/r bootkink, please? FILL 4/4 DONE

(Anonymous)
Glad you liked it - and thank you for the prompt! I'll stick it on AO3 once it's been tidied up a bit.
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