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Les Miserables Winter Holidays Exchange 2015
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Published:
2015-11-26
Words:
2,809
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
3
Kudos:
195
Bookmarks:
9
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4,256

Make me out of clay

Summary:

“No way that’s possible”, Enjolras heard himself laugh into the surrounding noise and clapped a hand over his mouth just as he realized that he said it out loud.
“Want me to show you dear leader?” Grantaire leered suggestively to general whistles and laughter. 
Enjolras insides burned at the suggestion.
 He may not have had as much experience as the storytellers of the night but he was an educated man, he read, he listened.
 And he wanted.

Notes:

  • For .

Dear presentee,
I hope this fills at least some of the tropes you wanted to see.
I`m not a native english speaker and not a native in artistic expression through writing. First fanfic ever and i cant stop blushing ;A;

original request:
Virgin!Enjolras finally gets curious about what "greek love" is from hearing les amis talk so much about. Grantaire is there to help (he nearly loses it in his pants a couple times but he has to stay strong). Bonus if it has mentions to literature of the time. Tsundere and Bottom!Enjolras borderline power bottom (I don't know how, but I think he would manage), overal I think Grantaire would be incredibly sweet with him.

Work Text:

Enjolras was breathing hard and twisting around to try and press himself more firmly to Grantaire and his touches.
“I have read that you have to-” Enjolras broke off panting and tried to grab onto Grantaire’s wrist to demonstrate. 

“Well,” Grantaire grinned, allowing Enjolras to guide his hand between Enjolras' thighs and under the shirt.
“Have you read about this too?” He whispered into Enjolras’ ear as he danced his fingers over Enjolras’ ass and pressed a finger to his entrance.


 

Hours before that Enjolras would never have imagined having the group cynic do those things to him. Or allowing himself to show Grantaire the things he has been thinking about doing with him.

After the official meeting was through Joly and Bossuet left for home in pursuit of a better heated place than the backroom of the Musain. Combeferre still engaged in conversation with the other medical student left with the pair.

All the leftover amis were gathered at the table in the back where the most light and warmth shone through the room. Courfeyrac the bright center of the group was telling a tale of his most current romantic encounter.

Left at the window front by himself sat Enjolras carefully folding the map of Paris and his notes, sending secret looks towards the boisterous group. On the outward corner sat the cynic of the group, head thrown back and laughing at the most lustrous part of Courfeyrac’s story. His cravat slightly loosened despite the cold and a strip of stubbly neck just visible. His curls wild and shaken from their matted style Grantaire had when he took off his hat.

Enjolras, not looking away from the animated group, tugged at one of his locks to loosen it from its careful placement.

Courfeyrac finished his tale by the head of the table with his foot on the chair, bowing to his howling audience. And Grantaire took over the role of the storyteller, but where Courfeyrac was boisterous and loud, Grantaire leaned conspiratory into the circle and almost whispered the beginning of his tale. Jehan giggled in delight at the staging and Enjolras throat suddenly felt dry at the sight of Grantaire’s mischievous smirk.
The leader took a sip of his wine and got up. 
He needed to be closer, to hear him.

Enjolras took up his wine bottle and walked over. The group of friends grew quiet at his arrival as if expecting a fight.

With everyone’s eyes on him, Enjolras determinedly picked up Grantaire’s glass and filled it up with his wine, sliding it over to the cynic in silent encouragement. Grantaire was staring transfixed. Picked up the glass and took a careful sip. The silent moment between the both men, with their eyes not leaving each other, stretched until Grantaire grinned and picked the story back up.

Enjolras, satisfied with seemingly being accepted, sat by Feuilly’s right, opposite of Bahorel who threw him a smile in greeting.

“This new gentleman’s club” Grantaire’s voice carried softly but with an implied smirk that made it sound just a tad amused and luscious.

“Every other month they celebrate a Bacchanal” Grantaire trailed off looking at Enjolras whose cheeks grew warm as he realized what Grantaire’s look implied.

“I am knowledgeable” Enjolras assured with a firm voice that only slightly wobbled at Grantaire’s smirk
“I have read the Greeks” Enjolras felt the need to tug open his cravat but even the air around him didn’t seem to help him cool down.


Reassured, Grantaire continued to stage whisper, singling out a different ami with eye contact as he told his story. Jehan ever blushing broke into giggles again together with Bahorel and they grabbed each other’s shoulders for support while Grantaire described a particularly nasty part and grinned self-satisfied with his impact on the audience. Courfeyrac kept almost upending the table by throwing his whole body back in laughter as Grantaire’s tale grew louder and more unbelievable by the moment, the friends grew more excited for its climax.

Enjolras found himself leaning onto the table as to not miss a single word.
 Grantaire was standing with his glass raised now.
“And then he made those noises as I …” Grantaire made an obscene gesture; exaggerating wildly and making everyone laugh.
“No way that’s possible”, Enjolras heard himself laugh into the surrounding noise and clapped a hand over his mouth just as he realized that he said it out loud.
“Want me to show you dear leader?” Grantaire leered suggestively to general whistles and laughter.
 Enjolras insides burned at the suggestion.
 He may not have had as much experience as the storytellers of the night but he was an educated man, he read, he listened.

And he wanted.



 


After Grantaire´s tale most of the Amis got ready to leave and the burden of clearing the space and diming the lights fell to the two surprisingly most sober Amis Grantaire and Enjolras.
“Did you mean it?” Enjolras asked into the quiet of the empty room.

“Oh” Grantaire’s eyes sparkled and the mishevious smile reappeared “Yes it is indeed possible to do that the way I explained”

“No” Enjolras groaned.

“Yesss”, Grantaire singsang.

“I mean, no, it is not what I meant.” Enjolras rubbed his sweaty palms on his thigh.
“I meant to ask whether you were serious about … showing me” Enjolras said haltingly. But he never got anywhere by hiding. So he looked back up at R and smiled.

Grantaire’s huge eyes grew even bigger at that and he let out a squeak.

“Grantaire”, Enjolras spoke “Will you walk me home?”

As Grantaire opened the door for Enjolras to pass through the cold air hit them both and despite their warm coats the wind seeped through the layers and it was hard to breathe for a moment.

But for once, in this cold, Paris smelled clean and crisp. And Enjolras took in a lungful. Grounding himself.
They started down the street side by side keeping an equal stride. Enjolras hands and nose were freezing but his stomach was sending hot pulses of excitement through his veins. He walked just a bit closer to Grantaire and bumped his arm. Grantaire’s hands were, if possible, even colder than Enjolras’ and for one moment Enjolras hesitated; nervousness making him doubtful.

But when he looked over, Grantaire sneezed loudly, his curls shook and little snowflakes rained down from the tips. And all of Enjolras nervousness turned into a giddy excitement.

The leader laughed and took Grantaire’s hand in his, rubbing the cold fingers of the artist with both hands, warming both of them. Grantaire sniffed and grinned down at their hands intertwined.

They continued the short way to Enjolras’ lodgings holding onto each other this way, sharing smiles and warmth.


 

Once inside, Enjolras took Grantaire’s coat while the other lighted a few candles around the room. Enjolras watched him fumble with the matchsticks and longed to hold those hands in his again. And for once, nothing was stopping him. He was here with Grantaire and with an intention.

Tonight he would not forbid himself the things he wanted every time he looked at the cynic.

Enjolras stepped closer to Grantaire, and touched the broad shoulders of the artist. This he had done before. It was easy. Clasping a friend’s shoulder in appreciation wasn’t new. But the slowness and undercurrent buzz of the air around them that came with the silence and anticipation was entirely new and electrifying.

Grantaire agreed to this. Grantaire wanted this too.
Enjolras clenched his fingers lightly into the coarse material of Grantaire’s warm winter vest.

“Show me, Grantaire…” He asked quietly “…teach me”.
Grantaire let go of the matches to cup Enjolras hand on his shoulder and twisted to face him. Eyes still too wide and unbelieving looking up to Enjolras.

“Is this the role you wish me to take? The tutor?” Grantaire asked. Enjolras nodded. And finally Grantaire smiled again. 

“Then I should guide you.”

He took Enjolras’ wrist and turned the hand around, brushing his lips over the soft skin.

“Tell me Enjolras,” Grantaire rasped, pulling Enjolras closer by the wrist and placing it around his own neck “do you dance?”

Enjolras was taken aback. But at the first step of a waltz he leaned in naturally and let Grantaire twirl him around the small space with fluent movements. Laughing breathlessly he tried to match his steps to Grantaire’s and stumbled more than once on his own feet.

“This part wasn’t in the books, I must admit” he murmured into Grantaire’s hair.
 Enjolras was so close to him now, that he could smell the man. 

“Then the books have done a poor job of teaching you.” Grantaire said as he pulled Enjolras’ waist closer. 

“You think you can do better?” Enjolras smiled innocently and bumped his cold nose against Grantaire’s, who shuddered out a breath. 

“Enjolras…” Grantaire breathed and leaned in for their first kiss.


Enjolras knew this part. Or so he thought until Grantaire’s tongue darted out and touched Enjolras’ lips. It felt hot and new. And Enjolras wanted to try it too. He opened his mouth but instead of Grantaire’s lips he met his tongue and groaned at the sensation.

Grantaire’s hands were firmly settled on Enjolras’ waist kneading into the fabric and pulling the leader even closer. Enjolras head was still spinning from the sensation of the new kiss and he was glad for the support of Grantaire’s broad shoulders. Continuing their dance Grantaire’s body moved to lead Enjolras.
Together they swayed, still kissing. With their eyes closed and their arms around each other. Moving in a clumsy waltz.



Enjolras lost himself in Grantaire whose hands slid up from Enjolras’ waist to his chest and then tugging on the already loosened cravat. Enjolras kept his eyes closed enjoying the shiver that went through his body as Grantaire’s cold fingers brushed his neck.

Grantaire’s breath came unsteady. Warm and rushing from his lips into enjras open mouth. Enjolras fingers twitches on Grantaire’s back and he realized that he was allowed to touch the cynic. 
It was a foreign feeling to be permitted to drag his hands up to Grantaire’s wild hair and run his fingers gently over the stubbly cheeks. Enjolras marveled at this novelty when Grantaire caught his hands and pressed them closer to his own skin and Enjolras needed to see this; Needed even more of his senses taking Grantaire in.
He imagined Grantaire’s eyes closed but when he broke the kiss and looked at the other man he found him looking back with glazed over eyes that shone out a mesmerizing blue in the dim light of the badly lit room. Enjolras felt his insides clench at that look and he wanted to see more. Wanted to have more of Grantaire. And Grantaire must have seen it in his eyes because he let go of Enjolras’ hands and ran his palms down to Enjolras’ chest where he quickly undid the few buttons of the red vest and slid it down.

The next shiver that overtook Enjolras’ body had nothing to do with the cold of the room. As Grantaire was running his fingers under the waistband of Enjolras’ trousers, his breath caught on an inhale and without giving Enjolras any time to process the action, Grantaire pulled the pants down. The long white shirt Enjolras was wearing kept him covered but he felt exposed to Grantaire’s attentive eyes anyway. Especially when Grantaire dropped down to his knees to help the leader with his boots.


Barefoot and only clad in a thin shirt Enjolras stood before Grantaire who was looking up tenderly. Drinking him in.

Enjolras fantasies never had the cynic look at him that way or had that many smiles and warmth in them. But what his fantasies, the vases and books had in common was both of them skin to skin with each other. And Enjolras wanted to try this. Now. 
He grabbed for Grantaire but instead of moving up to where Enjolras was pulling, the artist leaned forward into Enjolras’ crotch and nosed aside the fabric covering Enjolras’ half hard cock.
Enjolras' breath and strenght both left him at once and his knees buckled under him, landing Enjolras awkwardly on the floor, eyelevel with a smirking Grantaire.
"The mighty Achilles, brought to his knees" Grantaire teased and kissed Enjolras again before standing up and pulling the leader with him. They walked to the bedroom, hands intertwined for the second time this evening.

The bedroom was even colder but Enjolras' linen was of good quality and promissed to keep them warm, so both of them got into bed quickly and Grantaire pulled the covers over their heads, engulfing them in complete darkness. Enjolras pressed himself close to the cynic and dug his hands under Grantaire's waiscoat in search of the heat that was radiating from him and with a little shift to his hips Enjolras suddenly found himself sliding his erection against Grantaire's bulge. In the darkness the groan that Grantaire gave felt like it was surrounding Enjolras from all sides.
With slight rearrangements they managed to slot into eachother more comfortably and now it was Grantaire who ground into Enjolras, setting up a rhythm. His thick thigh between Enjolras' legs and his hands exploring Enjolras' body with curios and restless touches that were yet not fast enough for the leader. Enjolras was breathing hard and twisting around to try and press himself more firmly to Grantaire and his touches.
Enjolras was breathing hard and twisting around to try and press himself more firmly to Grantaire and his touches.
“I have read that you have to-” Enjolras broke off panting and tried to grab onto Grantaire’s wrist to demonstrate. 

“Well,” Grantaire grinned, allowing Enjolras to guide his hand between Enjolras' thighs and under the shirt.
“Have you read about this too?” He whispered into Enjolras’ ear as he danced his fingers over Enjolras’ ass and pressed a finger to his entrance. Enjolras moaned and pushed back against the hand.
"You really want this." Grantaire marveled but it wasnt a question as much as a confirmation. His hips stuttering angainst Enjolras' one more time before he drew back completely and fumbled in the dark of the covers.
Enjolras blindly reached for Grantaire again, meeting soft skin and coarse hair instead of the fabric that was there before. Revelling in this new development he ran his hands wherever they could reach with Grantaire still turning, twisting and fumbling. He didnt get to explore much before Grantaire took his shoulders gently into his hands and turned Enjolras to face away towards the wall. Enjolras almost turned back around, seeking to continue his exploration as well as the feeling of Grantaires bare errection against his own. But Grantaire halted him with a kiss to the neck and a whispered "Stay like this for me please".
Enjolras heard a wet sound and a moment later warm liquid was dribbling onto his thighs. Enjolras' cock jumped at the sensation and Grantaire seemed to know this, because he was reaching around Enjolras waist to put his hand on the leaking shaft. At the same time Grantaire slid closer and wrapped a leg over Enjolras' own, rubbing his errection on Enjolras slick thighs.

The feelings overwhelmed Enjolras and sweat was dribbling down his neck as he strained into Grantaire's grip.
"Is this what you imagined Enjolras when you read the books?" Grantaire asked as he pushed his cock between Enjolras' thighs. The leader could only moan in reply.
"Is this what you thought about while looking at the vases?" he twisted his wrist and started to jerk Enjolras slowly.
Once more Enjolras was not sure whether to push back into Grantaire or forward into his hand. But he didnt have to decide, as Grantaire pulled him closer and sped up the rhythm.
"I couldnt" Enjolras panted, unable to complete the thought. His brows knit together in concentration.
"I wanted" he tried once more.
"Because of you"
Grantaire's movement stuttered and picked up again wilder. Both of them moaning at the overwhelming feeling.
With one more kiss to the neck from Grantaire's trembeling lips Enjolras lost himself and came with a loud moan, too far gone for words. And after a few more thrusts Grataire too spilled between Enjolras' thighs.

They stayed in the embrace for a few moments until Enjolras grew restles, twisting about to reach Grantaire's lips in a kiss.
"Ever the most striving pupil arent you?" the cynic teased and wiped his hand on Enjolras' shirtsleeve, smiling into the kiss when Enjolras made a disgruntled sound.
"There is so much more i can show you..." Grantaire promissed as he rolled on top of Enjolras who looked up at him expectantly.
"...tomorrow" Grantaire finished and let his entire weight flop down onto Enjolras who couldnt help but laugh along with his lover.