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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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Fill: Decorum Est 5/6

Enjolras stilled, and looked at Grantaire reprovingly. He supposed that bit of commentary could hardly be classified as pillow talk, but he had been enjoying Grantaire’s compliant silence.

“Apologies,” said Grantaire after a moment. His voice was rough and low, for all he strove for a light tone. “They say man acts from habit; mine are all bad. I aim to mend them, but I suppose it will take practice.”

“Hm,” said Enjolras.

“In the meantime, you might gag me,” offered Grantaire. “I would not object.”

The image flashed through his mind unbidden – Grantaire bound and gagged and prostrate at his feet. Grantaire naked and hard and begging for Enjolras’ touch with his eyes when he could not beg in any other way. Grantaire subjugated. The idea was repugnant, vile, contrary to everything Enjolras stood for. Yet the thought of it took his breath away, and not only from disgust.

“No,” he said at last. “I think not. Offer again tomorrow when we are all at council – perhaps I will be more tempted then.” It was a feeble jest, and an unkind one at that, but Grantaire laughed weakly all the same.

“If it would please you. But if my rough tongue offends, I have better ideas for how you might quiet it.”

“Enough,” said Enjolras. That was the second time tonight Grantaire had all but offered to pleasure Enjolras with his mouth, and if Enjolras’ hadn’t had another urgent use for him he might have pressed to see how far that willingness went. He punctuated his address with a sharp thrust of his hips. “I am tired of conversation.”

Grantaire cried out again, but quickly bit off the cry and brought his hand back over his mouth. He was gratifyingly restrained as Enjolras settled into a constant rhythm.

There was no denying that Grantaire felt good, or that Enjolras’ body was responding eagerly to pleasures long put aside. He was often slow to reach climax – slower usually than the men he’d bedded – but tonight he could feel himself moving quickly towards completion. If Grantaire could but last –

He closed his eyes and banished all concerns and complications. All that mattered was the sensation of Grantaire inside him and his own hand on his prick. He tried for a moment to imagine that the man he was using was a stranger, someone less bothersome, less troubling than Grantaire, but his thoughts kept circling back. Grantaire serving him. Grantaire taking his orders. Grantaire compliant. God, he was so close. He sped up his pace, grasping the fabric of Grantaire’s shirt tightly with his free hand.

Mine,” he panted. “Mine.” It was nonsense, but he was past caring.

Yours, I swear it,” groaned Grantaire. “Body and heart and soul, all yours.”

Without warning, Grantaire reached out and pulled Enjolras down to meet him with a heated kiss. Enjolras meant to stop him, chastise him, reassert control. Instead, he gave a low moan into Grantaire’s mouth and spilled over Grantaire’s torso.

Grantaire kissed him through his climax, until Enjolras was master of himself again enough to push Grantaire back. He felt too drained, too...too pleased, it had to be said, for anything harsher.

It was several moments before he could rally the strength to move. Grantaire was still hard inside him – he had attended that request of Enjolras’ well enough at least – and still breathing heavily underneath him. He lifted himself carefully off of Grantaire, not quite trusting his limbs to hold him.

“Please,” panted Grantaire, “please, Enjolras, let me finish. You were- ah, I cannot say, there are no words. But please, I beg it.”

“You will do as you please,” said Enjolras. “You always do.”

“Yes, but I would please you. Would you have me go home thus? I will – but I beg you not to ask it.” Grantaire’s voice was so unsteady Enjolras was almost surprised he could speak. “Please, sweet Captain, I burn for you.”

“Then finish. I will not stop you.”

That, it seemed, was enough to break Grantaire’s hesitation. He thrust into his hand, and came a few moments later with Enjolras’ name on his lips.

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