Disgusting. Absolutely horrendous. God how he hated it. Being here with them. Enjolras sighed and looked up to the door of his childhood bedroom a sneer ever present on his still pale face, weariness obvious upon his handsome face. Though it was inside which held the most damage, inside he held the shattered remains of his perfect ideals and much worse, the agonising loss of those he held close.
The months since he'd been drawn from the barricade had been tough for the young revolutionary both mentally and physically. Two bullets had torn through his tender flesh tearing through his shoulder and left side. He'd have been satisfied to die there by Grantaire's side, in the wreckage with those he called brothers but life didn't appear to be fair for him. The soldiers had pulled him up from his chosen place of death and had him taken to a hospital for treatment. Though the execution that had been planned for him was halted the moment the officials had realised who his parents were, no one wished to upset Paris' top lawyer. Now here he lay forbidden to leave without an escort.
For now at least. Enjolras sighed as he lifted up a stack of paperwork from his bedside table. This had been the source of his fitful sleep last night. It was his freedom and imprisonment all in one. To change everything he truly believed and accept his father's plans. To betray everything he'd ever done and join those he hated. The same men that had killed his friends.
"I am truly sorry my friends" he whispered as he shakily lifted a pen and signed his name upon the top sheet. He hated it but he had to. One day he would take his chance and run. But till then he would fake conformity. It was his only chance at freedom. Pushing up carefully he moved slowly out into the corridor along to his father's office. He paused for a long minute before knocking firmly.
A older male looked up to the doorway pushing his glasses into place. "Come in" he responded in a cold voice.
As he entered Enjolras kept his gaze down to the floor, continuing his path till he was close enough to throw the papers at his father. "You have your wish." He spat bitterly.
A smirk rose upon his father's face as he looked down at the signature. "Good. Perhaps they will teach you manners as well as structure. Perhaps for once in my life I will be able to be proud of the boy I created."
Only just able to bite his tongue from spewing words of hate at the man Enjolras simply nodded and stepped back towards the door. "I will head to the training base as soon as possible. Farewell father." He stated emotionlessly, slamming the door hard behind him. "A short term pain. He would use it as a chance to gain retribution for the fallen once his days of freedom were upon him once more."
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Enjolras' stomach churned as he watched on from the doorway, too disgusted to watch yet too horrified to break his temporary paralysis. How could this be an honourable profession? His gaze shot to the right as he heard a young man scream out, two soldiers harshly beating him as they dragged him off to a bedroom. Enjolras shivered and rushed from the building, racing into the nearest alley where he promptly emptied his stomach not caring if any landed on his uniform.
From inside he could hear the screams and sobs of those being assaulted by the people he called colleagues, those abusing their power to steal, hurt and sometimes kill the poor all for their own benefit. Four months. Four months he'd been stuck in this hellish way of life seeing everyone he'd once fought for the freedom of defiled in ways he'd not considered back in the warm and welcoming ABC Cafe. If his friends could see him now hiding away he was sure they would be utterly ashamed of him.
It took a long hour before his fellow policemen had slipped out of the houses leaving a trail devastation behind. It took all of Enjolras' control to not pull his gun out and fire into the others. Instead he managed to push all emotion from his face and join the others as they lined up, though his eyes continuously searched behind as the people of the small suburb began to respectfully gather their dead in the centre of the road.
"You're missing out on a great bit of fun." One of the men stated suddenly to Enjolras. The blond glanced up at him only just holding back a glare as he spotted whom it was. Franc Belois. He was one of the most vile human beings Enjolras had ever had the horror to come across. In just four months he'd seen this man sexually assault and kill well over fifty poor souls. "You'll like what we've got coming next. We've been given permission to transport several criminals from the local prison to our base to await their sentence. In the meantime they are all ours." He smirked.
Enjolras turned his face away nodding to shut the disgusting male up. He was thankful when the head officer began to lead them away from the suburb, using the time to quicken his pace and distance himself from Belois.
They marched for near to twenty minutes, the young revolutionary remaining utterly silent as those around him boasted of their conquests. Enjolras' clenched his eyes tight and tried to focus it upon happier times. Love and laughter. Friendship and happiness. He though of Jehan and how he and Coufeyrac had finally stopped dancing around each other and admitted their feelings, of Marius, his love for Cosette and their recent marriage (At least someone ended up happy.) Soft brown curls flitted into his minds eye as he walked, the familiar hair making him smile sadly. Oh Grantaire, such am irritant and yet so wonderful all at once. He'd always thought that alcohol would take the drunk's life and yet at the very end he'd chosen to fall beside Enjolras holding his hand. How he wished he could be with the cynic right now.
"Halt march!" A cry came from up front causing every man to still obediently. The captain turned and stalked back and forth along the ranks. "These men are lower than scum. Use whatever force you deem to be appropriate only if they fight back but do not kill them. Any other activities can wait till we are back at base." With those words he turned and led the groups of sixteen into the building.
Enjolras' had to cover his mouth with his hand at the stench of the place. Though quite frankly it did nothing to dampen the sickening scent. It was more than obvious that these 'criminals' were forced to live in their own filth from it alone. He glanced up as the captain gathered their attentions once more. "Four teams of four." He commanded, the group quickly splitting. The blond groaned internally when he spotted Belois beside him, though the other two weren't much better. Pierre Hèlan had a habit of beating his own wife amongst other women. And the stories of Jaque Depard were bone chilling. These men deserved to be in the cells but because of their noble births they could simply get away with anything they wanted. "Pierre, your team take the prisoner in cell Eleven. The man thought he could play war by painting propaganda for those idiot barricade boys."
The revolutionary tensed, his shoulders rigid as he tried to push off the wave of anger. In his first week he had nearly killed a man with his bare fists for insulting his lost friends, in retribution he had suffered a beating from the very men he called his colleagues. He'd long learnt to hold his tongue. He quickly turned away and followed his three fellow policemen to the appointed cell feeling a protectiveness over the unknown man. It was for his cause that this man remained here. There is no reason he should be. None at all. But it seemed a just cause was a cause for torture these days.
They headed deep into the bowels of the prison all sunlight sapped in the underground hell. Candles flickered tauntingly creating haunting shadows upon the cold stone walls. A tall man looked up from his perch beside a door at the sight of the four. "You must be this man's transport. He's feisty." He smirked, turning to open the door. Without a care he gripped a bucket of water and harshly threw it over the thin body curled up in the corner of the room. "Wake up you little whore."
Long brown curls dripped with water as the pale face rose slowly, gaunt face raising to meet his tormentors in a challenge. "I am no whore." He spat as he stood on shaky legs, stumbling against the wall. "You are the whores. Hell awaits you." Grantaire hit the floor in a heap as the guard struck him hard over his shoulders.
Dear God. No. No, how could this be. Enjolras stood stock still on the doorway as his colleagues entered the cell to drag Grantaire to his feet. The sunken eyes haunted the blond making his heart sink into the bottom of his stomach. His friend was alive. The man he lo-the man he cared for so deeply...he was here...here in this hell. His hand twitched towards his gun as Jaque bit down upon Grantaire's neck laughing. "Oh we will have fun whore." He taunted, dragging the frail man towards the door.
"I'll take him." Enjolras stated, surprised by just how strong his voice was, the revolutionary of old. As the other three looked at him he straightened up trying to look as tough as he could. "The captain wants him as unharmed as we can manage. You three can't keep your hands to yourself." Without waiting for their agreement he stepped up and wrapped his own arm carefully around the artists waist, carefully aiding him from the room as his the others began to search into the other cells for their own amusement. He had time if he was quick.
"I must have found myself in another dream. It is only in those few good dreams where Apollo comes to rescue me." Grantaire slurred, resting his head upon the strong shoulder. "Am I finally dead Apollo?" He asked, hope swirling in his exhausted voice.
"You are not dead, I am truly here but please be quiet my friend. Just relax. I need to figure out a way to get you to safety." He whispered as they rose up through the floors making slow progress. As they reached ground level Enjolras bent and scooped his frail friend into the cradle of his arms, worry creasing his brow as he heard a whimper. "I am so very sorry." He whispered. "We have to be quick to get out of here. Please forgive me." He pleaded as he began to walk swiftly towards the main door sticking mainly to the shadows. The sound of footsteps had him shifting quickly into an alcove, the pair only just fitting in their peculiar positions. A continuous stream of pained hisses had begun to break through Grantaire's lips as the pressure of the wall pressed upon his left leg causing his face to contort in pain. They would be caught if the sound wasn't stopped...
Looking several times between the hallway and his agonised friend Enjolras made a choice, he crooked his head and pressed his own lips softly to the chapped, damaged skin of Grantaire's to muffle the sounds. Grantaire's eyes widened at the tender kiss, one that he immediately began to return, his hand winding into the familiar golden curls. Both grew so distracted that even as the footsteps receded they didn't stop. No, only the need for oxygen had them pulling away. At the artist's questioning but not complaining look Enjolras whispered a soft later into his ear and started out on their escape once more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not since the days of the barricade's had Enjolras felt himself filled with such desire. Desire to save the one friend he could. As they rushed through the darkening streets of Paris he felt a stirring within, the man he'd held buried deep rising to the fore once more. "You will be safe." He whispered to the half asleep man in his arms, ignoring the looks of confusion they gathered from the passing public.
His heart hammered in his chest as he hurried through almost breathless from the exertion but he couldn't afford to stop. The others would likely be chasing after them both by now, to stop would mean the death of them both. What they needed was somewhere safe. Somewhere they could trust. Marius. Their friend had the finance and the perfect place for them to remain hidden. Of course they wouldn't have the freedom to wander freely but it would be safe. That was what was needed now.
As the choice cemented itself in its mind Enjolras turned down an alley way and began to head towards the richer suburb in which his friend lived. It wouldn't be easy to get by the public in this zone. They would most definitely look out of place. Damn. A disguise would be integral rather than optional. A detour to the market then. Changing his direction he hurried as quickly as their combined weight allowed towards the location.
As expected the huge square was full of Paris' brightest and 'best'. The rich bustling from stall making outlandish purchases. Just a fraction of the money spent here could feed the poor of the city for a year he thought bitterly as he watched on from the alleyway. Focus he commanded himself. One day he would allow thoughts of revolution to return but today would not be that day. Grantaire. He was the most important thing right now. He shook the sleeping man gently awake as he settled him against the wall, under cover of shadow. "'Taire. You have to wait here for a moment. I need to get us some things. Do not make a sound." He handed over his own gun, aiding the exhausted man to raise his arm. "Stay safe mon ami." He whispered as he pressed another gentle kiss to the man's pliant lips.
Soft but slurred wishes of safety followed after Enjolras as he slipped out into the main square causing a smile to crease his lips. He would give the world to protect that man he decided in that moment. Enough loss had been suffered, enough blood spilled. No more of Grantaire's crimson would mar the floor of his beloved Patria. As he moved through the throngs of people his eyes would constantly dart back to where his friend lay, each glance hastening his movements till he finally reached a clothing stall. Without much care for appearance he quickly gathered up two waistcoats, shirts, trousers, shoes and cats. The cost of them took every coin remaining in his money bag but he did not begrudge a single sous.
He paused only briefly on his return to Grantaire to trade an extravagant golden watch for a basket of bread, the majority of loaves he distributed to several extremely thankful beggars who waited on the fringes of the market. The last two he carried back to his friend. As soon as the first was placed down on Grantaire's lap it was scooped up by his eager hands, his ravenous mouth tearing at the delicious, moist bread. Enjolras absentmindedly stroked a gentle hand through the matted brown curls. "You won't ever go hungry again mon ami. I do swear it." He whispered soothingly. "Whist it remains in my power I will always keep you safe."
Grantaire raised his eyes to glance up into Enjolras' kind face, swallowing back a large chunk of bread. "I believe in you." He whispered.
With his stomach filled and his body warmly clothed Grantaire found himself able to walk, though he still leaned heavily upon Enjolras for support, the months of captivity having taken their toll upon the artist. And yet the strength he had lost he found replaced in spades by the proximity of his Apollo. He had given up on his life as he had lain in his cell violated day by day, battered and belittled for the entertainment of society's 'protectors.' But now...now he truly did feel safe, he felt the urge to go on, to live, to heal. From the very first moment he had felt those supple lips pressed to his he had felt life spark within him once more. Oh how he longed for more of those kisses.
The sudden stilling of his compadre had Grantaire pulled from his reverie, his tired face turning to study Enjolras' expression. The blond answered simply with a gesture of his head, chin jutting towards a large white building centred in the middle of at least three acres of land. Grantaire's eyes widened at the sight, he knew his friend had come from aristocracy but he hadn't imagined this. "We must hurry 'Taire." Enjolras whispered as he started across the busy road, aiding the tired man to climb over the fence surrounding the estate. The blond followed quickly afterwards, pausing to make sure their entry had remained unseen. Only then did he wind his arm around the cynic's waist once more. Together they swiftly but carefully moved towards one side of the house, Enjolras slipping towards the office, a window he knew Marius had a tendency to keep open just in case the revolutionary needed a brief time to 'escape' from his life in the police force. To lose himself in a story until the duties of the morning would steal his life away once more.
To get Grantaire inside the high window proved a little more difficult than it did to enter himself, the consequence of two bodies falling onto the wooden floor of the office resulting in a rather loud clatter. Enjolras had just enough time to rise to his feet before he heard the sound of rushing feet. Fate must have shined upon them that day he decreed as he came face to face with Marius himself rather than the security his friend employed to protect himself and his beloved wife, though the gun in his friend's hand still left him at ease.
Marius sighed with relief as he took in the sight of familiar blond curls, dropping his gun to his side as his their eyes met, though Marius' gaze remained upon his friend for only seconds instead shifting to the seeming mirage that had begun to stir on the floor. "By God's grace I have gone insane." He whispered.
"I feel for you if God makes me the last thing you see before insanity strikes." Grantaire laughed breathlessly causing Enjolras to smile despite his worry. The brunette began to stand, smiling himself as his Apollo immediately wound an arm around him in aid. "Merci."
"He is truly here Marius. I found him wrongly imprisoned in a jail cell this very afternoon." He looked up, desperation clear upon his face. "I had to save him. I had to. I'm sorry, this was the only safe place I could think to bring him."
A soft smile settled itself upon Marius' kind face. "You need request no more my old friend. You and Grantaire are welcome to stay here in safety for as long as you require. I will accept no payment from you before you offer it."
"I owe you a debt Marius." Enjolras stated gratefully, his intent to hug his friend sidelined as he glanced to see Grantaire dozing lazily against his shoulder. "He had been through more hell than we could imagine. I'd imagine a hot bath would do him the world of good if it could be arranged?"
"Of course. Take him to the largest guest bedroom. I'll have everything prepared for you. If you need anything more you will be able to find me or my darling Cosette around the house. Just search us out."
"Thank you mon ami" Enjolras answered, scooping Grantaire into the cradle of his arms as he spoke.
"It is what friends do for one another. I am glad you have found him. Perhaps you will soon realise what I meant the day I met Cosette." Marius glanced at the too, his smile growing at Enjolras' blush. "Both of you should rest after his bath. You and I can talk in the morning. Bon Soir."
"Yes, goodnight." Enjolras stammered, his eyes falling to rest upon Grantaire's peaceful face. Was it love he felt? The purest of all emotions. Back in the days at the musain he had felt irritation to those who had let themselves fall to it, it distracted them from the cause. And yet he it had been love which had saved Marius, Valjean had only saved the young man because of he love he'd had for his stepdaughter. Perhaps it was love and not duty which drove him to see Grantaire from his own personal hell.
The sound of the door creaking open once more had Enjolras' returning to focus, re-adjusting the sleeping artist in his arms. Cosette stepped inside, her face welcoming and bright as she looked upon the pair. "Marius informed me of the wonderful news. Come, I'll show you both to the bathroom."
Enjolras nodded politely as he began to follow her through the artistically decorated halls of the estate, the building left to the couple after Marius' grandfather passed recently. "Thank you for all of your kindness sweet Cosette. You had no duty to accept to give us shelter and yet you willingly do so. Marius married a good woman."
"I thank you for your kind words Enjolras." She smiled in return, glancing back as she led them up a flight up stairs. "You are considered family in this house. Marius sees you as his brother. You and Grantaire will always be welcome." The young woman stilled by a doorway, holding it open so the others could enter the bathroom. "Goodnight."
"Et Tu." he responded, unable to deny how his heart swelled with emotion at the kind declarations made by both Pontmercy's. He was lucky to have such wonderful friends, deciding there and then that he would do what he could to protect the, should they ever be in danger. His attention turned once more to the cynic in his arms, lips pressing naturally to the others temple. "Wake up Grantaire it is time to get you clean." He whispered softly.
Grantaire's eyes fluttered open lazily, a gentle smile creasing his features. He looked over to the far side of the room, those same eyes widening at the sight of the hot bath. "Oh please tell me that is not a hallucination."
A laugh rumbled Enjolras' chest as he set Grantaire upon his feet. "Far from it. Our hosts have graciously allowed use of I-" he cut off in shock as the other man stripped off without a further words, his cheeks turning crimson as he took in every inch of the thin, pale body. It was only the fact that he had spotted numerous cuts and bruises which prevented the revolutionary from acting upon the sudden swell of desire building within him.
Grantaire's progress towards the bath stopped as he noticed the eyes upon him. "I've had rougher beatings Apollo...please do not worry." He implored, turning and stalking back to the blond. His hands slid to begin unfastening the shocked man's shirt. "I would like very much if you would join me?" He requested, his eyes pleading.
Though his nerves had him quaking within Enjolras managed to push them back, offering Grantaire a small smile as he nodded his assent. If it please the artist he would do it willingly. He let the other slip the shirt off his shoulders, shivering when he felt those long fingers brush over his muscular chest. His own hands shook as they slipped open the fastenings of his trousers, letting them slip down his thighs. Grantaire wasn't shy as he glanced down, hungrily drinking in the sight which had blessed his dreams so frequently. One of his hands explored a trail over his friend's firm abdomen till it finally reached its intended destination, wrapping itself around the half hard, impressive length.
Enjolras gasped as he felt the grip, his hips automatically rolling forwards into the contact. It wasn't the first time he'd had a hand around himself, though his own attempts had been quick solutions to get rid of the problem. This was so much more intimate. So much better. So right. And yet...so wrong. For now at least. Grantaire needed to relax and yet here he was letting the man tend to him. With more strength than he knew he could posses he reached to disentangle the hand, heart sinking at the sad look on his friend's face. Instead he raised the hand and placed it over his heart. "Hey, I am not saying no 'Taire. I am simply saying later." He soothed, kissing him softly,
Grantaire relaxed visibly, settling into the kiss. Though he didn't let it remain tame and slow, teasingly flicking his tongue out to brush the rosy lips of his lover. Had he not already been hard from the sight of his naked Apollo alone the moan the obscene moan which the man made would definitely have gotten him there. As he drew his Apollo's tongue between his own lips he let Enjolras' words of promise hang between them. Later.
Pleasure spiked throughout Enjolras' body as he hungrily began to devour the inviting mouth, his arms encircling his lovers waist. How had he refrained from doing this for so long? He could have been with Grantaire so long ago and yet he had let his stupid idealistic mind forbid himself a happiness. A love. Sighing he pulled back from the kiss, resting his forehead upon his lovers. "Let us get you clean."
Reluctantly Grantaire allowed the embrace to be broken only because he knew they would soon be settled in the heated water together. With Enjolras' aid he clambered into the bath water. "Oh good heavens" he moaned as he sat, letting the warmth engulf his battered body. Enjolras smiled at the reaction of his lover, slipping carefully in behind him. Naturally his arms curled once more around Grantaire's torso pulling him to rest against his own chest. "Thank you my Apollo."
The revolutionary kissed at his lovers shoulder. "Shhh you have nothing to thank me for cherie. I am simply glad to see you here. To hold you safe in my arms. It grieved me to think you dead. I had been proud to think I had died beside one of my brethren."
"You permitted it so." Grantaire smiled, settling his own arms over Enjolras'. "Though I will admit I hold regret for not being there to aid our friends. I failed. I let the drink win me over. Never again. If anything good came from my time in that cell it was my enforced rehab."
Enjolras winced at the thought of his beloved going through the withdrawals in the horrid cell he had seen, alone and afraid. Automatically his arms tightened around him. "Though I can't deny it makes me happy to think you a sober man I wish you had not had to suffer to reach that point."
"Sometimes in life one must suffer to achieve what they desire. If my reward for these months of suffering is to be close to the one I hold dear then I can at least be thankful for that. I won't dismiss what I've been through...I am scarred by it both mentally and physically, and yet having you close to me, to help me will aid a great deal."
"It is good to hear that 'Taire. I would give you everything I could to help you with anything you need." As he spoke he unfurled his grip so that he could begin to wash through the deep brown curls of the artist's hair.
Grantaire leaned back, the touch releasing any further tension from his body. Enjolras always seemed to have that effect on him. "Anything? Would you make love to me?" He whispered, blushing lightly as he spoke.
Enjolras couldn't help but splutter as his nerves rose high once more. "G-Grantaire I have...I have erm...never...with anyone ever." He stammered, looking away shyly. "Not that I don't want...I do. I don't know how."
"Learn with me." Grantaire whispered, glancing over his shoulder vulnerably to look upon his intended lover. "I have loved you a long time Enjolras, I think deep down you have always known. Life has given us a chance. Permets-Tu?"
Enjolras closed his eyes at the treasured words. In the very end they had stood shoulder to shoulder ready to spend what should have been their end as one, hands gripped in unison. And now it seemed their hearts had aligned. "I love you too." He whispered, opening his eyes to see how delight covered his new partner's features. "Yes. Yes is my answer. I permit it mon amour."
So this was what true nerves felt like. His entire body quivered with anxiety as he lay Grantaire down upon the silken bed sheets, his gaze running lasciviously over the pale form that lay below him. Though the pale skin stretched a little too tight over his lovers thin body he help but feel his own arousal grow. God Grantaire was utterly beautiful, and even after all he'd suffered he still trusted Enjolras' to see and touch him so intimately. That meant the world to the revolutionary. He would never let himself hurt this man that was one promise he knew he would keep.
Though that didn't mean he knew how to make him feel good. This was one area he was a complete novice in. Sex most certainly alarmed him. Gently, that was the only thing he was certain of, keep everything slow and tender. With that he bent to place a kiss to his lovers lips, feeling them begin to move softly in return. Pale hands slipped to rest upon Enjolras' hips pulling him ever closer as he deepened the kiss, both men losing themselves in the sensations.
Enjolras' calloused hands began to explore the canvas below him as their tongues tangled, soft moans and gasps being drawn from his lover. Testingly the blond ran his hands over the soft nub on the left hand side of Grantaire's chest, his own arousal rising as he heard the breathless groan it dragged from his lover. Intrigued he began to rub at the nipple feeling it harden below his hand. "You like that do you?" He asked as he broke the kiss, smiling at the shaky nod he received in response. "I wonder what you'll feel about this..." He moved his kiss bruised lips to its twin and began to suck upon it, pulling a sultry moan from the brunette.
"Jolras." Grantaire whimpered, slipping one hand up to grip into the familiar blond curls. "You are a quick learner it seems." His body rose up with need as the other began to kiss a trail down his chest, tongue flicking out over his belly button as it passed. The movement continued, soft kisses making their way down till one finally placed itself upon the straining flesh of Grantaire's erection. It was as if the stars had exploded in the sky above, of course he'd felt this before but never from someone he loved, from someone he'd longed for, desired so desperately. Pleasure bolted through him as he felt the warm lips stretch around the leaking head, the mouth so attune to speaking so passionately fallen to utter silence as it slid down the length. Even though the movements were clumsy and disjointed he would not have changed it for a moment.
Enjolras sank down till half of the hard cock was within his mouth not wanting to overface himself his first time, he wanted it to be good for Grantaire and a choking partner was not attractive. Instead he began to suck testingly upon his lover smirking when he heard the sultry moan released from the artist's lips. Encouraged by the sound he increased the suction, raising his hand to grip the rest of the length as he started to make short movements.
Every fibre of Grantaire's body longed to thrust up into the welcoming heat, his hand gripping ever tighter in the blond curls. It was only the desire to feel his lover inside which gave him the strength to stop the revolutionary. "A-Apollo. We need oil." He stammered, looking up as Enjolras' lips popped off him obscenely. "To stretch me." He added quickly at the confused expression he received in response.
"Ah of course mon amour." He pressed a gentle kiss to the brunette's lips as he slid off the bed and, after pulling on trousers, returned to the bathroom to search. Within minutes he reentered the room, juggling a bottle of massage oil as he shirked off the clothing. "This should do the job, but I am afraid you will have to talk me through it mon amour. I am at a loss here."
Grantaire paused to shift one of the pillows under his hips, only then did he pat the space between his raised legs. "It is a simple process. You need to be slow and gentle. Start with one finger and progress to three." He stated soothingly, taking the bottle from Enjolras. He liberally aided him to coat his fingers, an encouraging smile upon his tired face.
Enjolras ran his clean hand up over Grantaire's hip soothingly. "You need rest. Perhaps now is not a goo-"
"Don't you dare say stop. I've been waiting for this for so long. I can rest afterwards." The cynic pleaded desperately.
"I-okay" Enjolras sighed. "I'm going to trust that you will keep to that promise." His slicked hand wandered towards its intended destination, one finger starting to circle the puckered hole. As he breached inside his hand began to tremble, worry filling him. What if he caused pain to his love? What if he brought back horrifying memories? Suddenly he stilled, eyes looking down upon Grantaire. "I-I think we should stop..."
"No!" Grantaire winced at his own tone of desperation, taking a deep breath to calm himself before he spoke again. "You are over-thinking this Apollo. Please. If this was something I did not want I would speak up. I need this...I need to feel good...to feel loved. Please." He whispered, his voice cracking on the last word.
For a moment Enjolras' remained completely still running his mind over his lovers plea. He could not deny him that, his own body was growing increasingly harder to ignore. Something about seeing Grantaire so desperate for him and trusting had him harder than he'd ever been before. He finally nodded and pushed the finger as deep as it could go, retracting and then pushing in once more, a smile forming at the soft moans of pleasure which the artist released.
The second and the third finger were harder to accommodate, every single wince from his lover had panic alarms ringing in Enjolras' head screaming at him to stop. And yet just as he began to withdraw he would hear soft plea's from his pliant lover urging him to continue. And each and every time he did, longing for more of those seductive moans. Though his sudden spark of confidence crashed as the muscles were thoroughly stretched. He trembled as he withdrew them, his mouth growing dry with worry. "I could just...with my mou-" He offered nervously.
Grantaire didn't let him continue his sentence, covering the beloved mouth with one palm. "I know you are nervous mon amour but I trust you. Do not doubt it. You can do this. You will love this." He said confidently. One hand gathered up the oil and began to pour it into the other. "You can trust me on this Apollo." He soothed, slowly beginning to slick up the blond's hard cock, his eyes fixed upon the others face, every flicker of pleasure causing his heart to swell. He was the one responsible for making him feel so good. For making this normally so put together man fall to pieces under his own hand.
"'Taire." Enjolras pleaded in a deep groan, gripping the others wrist to still his hand. "T-too much. I'll finish now if you keep that up." He blushed, embarrassed by how quickly the other's hand had nearly brought him to climax. "Just...give me a moment."
"Take all the time you need." Grantaire soothed, pulling down Enjolras into a series of tender kisses. Carefully he aided his lover to lie fully above him, winding his arms around his waist as the kiss deepened.
"I am ready...as I'll ever be." He whispered against the brunette's kiss bruised lips. "Tell me if it hurts and I'll stop." He added in a hurry as he reached a hand down to line up. Nothing could have prepared him for the feeling as he finally pushed inside. It was as if every single nerve ending in his taut body was lit on fire simultaneously. Pleasure sparked through each and every muscle. He pushed on further into the tight heat, unknowingly releasing a series of loud, obscene moans, ones he would never admit to making when he was coherent.
As he bottomed out he finally allowed his eyes to take in the sight below him, blushing brightly as he spotted the brunette watching him with equal interest. He raised one hand to cup his lovers cheek as he rolled his hips gently, forcing his fluttering eyes open to watch the soft part of his lovers lips. Longing for more of the delicious sensation he began a soft pace, pulling slowly out to the head and then sliding in agonisingly slowly once more.
Grantaire's long legs wound themselves around Enjolras' as he thrust, starting to raise his own hips to meet his thrusts. This, it was utterly perfect, everything he had dreamed about and more. With a gentle smile he dragged his love down into a deep, loving kiss.
Together they moved as one, hands beginning to explore the angular shapes of hip bones, the curvature of strong muscles committing every detail to memory. Enjolras began to quicken the pace of his hips as his need grew, their kiss becoming hungrier as he began to rock in hard and fast. As Grantaire bucked off the bed crying out in pleasure the blond smirked. That would be the prostate then, he deduced. Coufeyrac had delighted in telling him all about he wonders of that particular spot. Determined to hear the sound again Enjolras adjusted his hips and began to pound at the spot relentlessly.
Everything blurred within the artist till he had no thoughts but those which contained Enjolras. Every touch, every smell, everything. He latched his lips to the blond's neck, nipping and sucking upon the tender skin wanting to leave a mark. As he felt his climax begin to approach he snaked a hand between them, starting to stroke himself in time with each thrust.
Noting the movement Enjolras shifted his own hand to swat away the artist's, taking over the strokes himself. His eyes fixed upon Grantaire's face as he felt a tightening begin in his abdomen, a feeling he tried to hold back. He wanted his partner to come first, he refused to come before him.
It didn't take long for the cynic to fall over the edge, screaming out Enjolras' name as he came over the blond's hand and his own stomach in thick ropes. The intense tightening of his muscles were what drove Enjolras to his own much needed climax, the contraction around him ripping his orgasm from his trembling body causing him to spill deep within his lover's sated body.
As Enjolras withdrew from Grantaire the pair fell into a tangled pile of sweaty limbs. Using whatever strength he had remaining the blond gathered the artist into his arms, nuzzling the top of his head gently.
"I love you." Grantaire whispered tiredly, half lost to sleep already as he spoke, for the first time in months feeling utterly safe and content.
Enjolras paused at the words, feeling the way his heart began to thrum harder in his chest. Oh how he loved the cynic, with a soft kiss to the brunette curls below him he smiled. "I love you too 'Taire. I think I always have." He closed his own eyes as he spoke letting tiredness over take him. No more would he have to surrender to his parents ideals, they didn't matter. Only the man in his arms did, and he would do anything for him. To save him would be his cause. "I will never let them get to you mon amour. Till the end of my days I will protect you."
Grantaire's lips twitched up into a soft smile. "And I will stand beside you at the end."
"I will permit it so." He answered.