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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: Fill: Decorum Est 4/6

“Citizen Grantaire, will you grant me your consent to use you as I see fit? Keep your answer brief.”

“Yes yes yes a thousand times yes-

“Brief.” Enjolras reminded him, and Grantaire shut his mouth with satisfying speed. Enjolras unbuttoned Grantaire’s trousers, and drew out Grantaire’s prick.

Grantaire gasped at the slight contact. It was unlikely, Enjolras reflected, that Grantaire would last long given the state he was already in. That was a pity; it would be a shame to go so far without much pleasure in return.

“Here are my requests.” He gave the last word the same inflection he would have given “orders.” “Do not speak unless you have something to say. I have little interest in pillow talk, least of all yours.” Grantaire gave a silent nod. That was a good start. “Secondly, don’t come. Not while you’re inside me. Do you comprehend?” Grantaire nodded again, vigorously. Likely it would do no good, but at least Enjolras had tried. “Very well.”

He poured a little more oil into his hand to apply to Grantaire’s prick. Grantaire shivered as Enjolras put his hand to him, but he bit his lip and did not cry out. Enjolras considered praising him for that, but decided against it. Grantaire did not need encouragement for such slight compliance.

He took hold of the base of Grantaire’s prick and slowly – carefully – began to lower himself onto it. He fought back a wave of his own impatience; now that he had truly begun he found himself all the more eager. Rationality won the day, as it always must – patience now would make for a better fuck once he’d adjusted to Grantaire’s girth. Dieu, but it had been a long time, and Grantaire was hardy small.

Besides, he did not want Grantaire to see how much he was moved. Grantaire should not believe that his task would be easy.

He made himself pause for breath when he’d worked his way down and was fully seated on Grantaire’s lap. He spared a moment then to consider his partner; Grantaire had his left hand curled into a tight fist on the ground, and Enjolras could see the impression of nails on his skin. His right hand was covering his mouth, and there were bite marks on one of his fingers. That, it seemed, was what had kept him so quiet. Now that Enjolras, was paying attention, he could hear a stifled moan from behind Grantaire’s hand as he adjusted his position.

“Good,” Enjolras told him. Grantaire’s hips twitched in a half thrust at the praise, and Enjolras set his hands down firmly, pressing Grantaire to the ground.

“None of that,” he said sternly. “I will be in control, or this ends.” It might have been pleasant to have Grantaire fuck him hard and fast and desperate, but his control already balanced on the edge of a knife. Now was not the time. Perhaps- but now was not the time for perhapses or somedays either.

The position he was in was unfamiliar to him; he had seen it pictured in the sorts of books Bahorel and Prouvaire laughed over together when they though Enjolras wasn’t looking, but his own experiences had been more limited. It had always been easier before to roll over and let some other man do the work. But of course, nothing would be easy with Grantaire. It never was.

He lifted himself up experimentally, and settled back down slowly, savoring the feeling. Grantaire bit down hard on his hand and look at Enjolras with wide eyes, by which Enjolras surmised it had felt pleasant for him as well. But pleasant though it had been, it was not yet what his desires demanded. He made his next thrust fast and sharp, startling a string of curses from Grantaire.
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