A/N: Hello, friends! The lovely Freedom909 and I have been talking (go check her out, she's really cool!), and we decided that it would be fun to write some Enjonine together! Here, you see the beginnings of the fruits of our labors. Enjoy!
Underneath the pale moonlight, love has a way of talking. Lovers fight and lovers make up as the streets they're walking wind on and on. Love has this way of slowing time while making the clock fly by. It makes the night stand still although it always ends with goodbye.
The sky was gray in the haze of the moon, providing the ideal backdrop for the city lights. The Harley motorcycle roared through the streets, dragging a gust of wind behind it. The leaves of autumn's end scattered through the air as the wheels disturbed their slumber. All the while, the engine was waking the quiet streets, before the rider finally chose his favorite place as a destination.
Suddenly, the engine wasn't the loudest thing anymore as the noise from the bar could be heard from the sidewalk. The Black Horse Tavern was the place Enjolras most often chose for his escapades. It was farther than The Musain, but the extended travel time was always worth it when he managed to snag a girl to take home for the night – sometimes two. The night would always end in an insane amount of pleasure for him, and an inexplicable amount for the lucky woman – or women. He couldn't put his finger on what it was that always made him come back to this bar, but love has a way of doing that.
Enjolras cut the engine of his bike and propped it up between two cars. He shook the helmet from his head, letting his loose strawberry blonde locks fall. He slipped his shades on over his eyes to hide their iridescent, irresistible blue, and conceal himself from everyone. This was just how he liked it. He entered the bar with a smirk taking in the scent of alcohol and tobacco from the smokers on the street corner.
"Hey Enjolras!" The bartender shouted in his gruff voice noticing Enjolras' presence at the door. "Glad of you to make it."
Enjolras simply glided over to the bar and slipped himself into the barstool. "I always come back, Rich. You know that."
The bartender just grinned to the man before him. "The usual, then?"
"Make it a double," he said in a liquid voice as he turned in his stool to lean his elbows on the counter behind him. He eyed the bar through his darkened vision watching every movement and scouting for the perfect one.
"Hey there, handsome. Someone lonely tonight?" The woman sitting next to him asked. Her voice was deep showing off her alluring qualities that made any man quiver at the thought of her mouth on his.
"Depends," Enjolras started not bringing his eyes to hers, "Only if that ring on your finger stays there all night."
He could see her face squirm at his comment; he could tell from the corner of his eye that she was blushing as she looked away from him, resuming her conversation with the fellow on her other side.
The bartender returned and placed the two shots of Crown Whiskey behind him. Enjolras flipped around in his seat when he heard the clink of the glasses on the counter. He shot the first one without even a wince. The second glass he let linger in his fingertips a second longer. He craned his neck to the left hearing the sound of a woman squealing with delight at the pool table.
He watched the scene for a moment, weighing his options, deciding if she was worth it. She clasped her hands together as if she had just pocketed a ball. The man standing next to her cheered her on, not forsaking a kiss on her cheek. This girl was charming, maybe a little too perky, but she was definitely cute, and that little dress was leaving nothing to the imagination. And with that boy next to her…well, this would be too much fun to pass up. He downed the drink in his hand and stood from his seat.
In no time at all, Enjolras had drifted to the pool table. "Mind if I join?" He asked nonchalantly.
The other two men standing there nodded to him tossing him a pool stick. The one he'd noticed earlier turned to the girl. "Alright Sabine. Your turn again."
"Oooh! Perfect!" She clapped her hands again in delight causing Enjolras to smirk. Perhaps this one would be worth it after all. He watched her lean a little too far over her pool stick as she arched her back to line the stick up with the pool ball. He saw his chance, and decided to take it.
"Nah…" he murmured, shaking his head, "You're doing it all wrong." The girl picked herself up off the table and looked questioningly at Enjolras. "Let me show you." He glided his way to her draping his arms around her and positioning his hands over hers. He could feel the intense stares he was receiving but that only spurred him on. Firmly but graciously, he guided her hands with the stick, making sure to lean most of his weight on top of her. "Just like this," he whispered seductively in her ear. He felt her shiver ever so slightly underneath him. He let his hands fling the stick forward as the ball hit its mark, before he released her.
She was rather quick to face him again. "Could you maybe show me again? I don't think I've quite got it just yet," she nearly whimpered. Perfect. She was right where he wanted her.
"But you did it perfectly before," The boy snapped at her. "He doesn't need to show you again."
"It wouldn't hurt," she insisted, narrowing her eyes at him and quickly turned them pleading to face Enjolras.
"Sure..." he grinned, almost growled, as he leaned over her again resuming their position. This time, he positioned her hands and let go of them to rest his on her waist. "Oh, and make sure you stand like this…" He glided one hand up to her chest and rested it just before the swell of her breast, almost too close for comfort. She gasped a little before moaning in response.
Enjolras smiled to himself at her reaction. He kept his weight on her and slowly edged his other hand on her hip to her front side. The pool stick trembled in her hands as she kept tightening it in response to him. Enjolras kept his hand inching lower and lower until he felt the end of her dress. His fingers curled under it. "Now keep it steady…" he breathed in her ear, "…and…" his finger slowly, gently graced the underside of her panties, "shoot." She jumped at the touch and the word in her ear, causing the white ball to knock unsteadily into the adjacent ball and land in the pocket.
Her breath was ragged as he could almost see her heart beating in her chest. Enjolras took a step back. "I think I'll get another drink."
The girl only stared at him, trying to wipe the pleasure off her face. "A-any...time you want to join us...f-feel free," she stuttered, still trembling. The other boys eyed him wickedly but Enjolras only smirked to them.
"I'll keep that in mind; thank you." He tipped his sunglasses down briefly and turned on his heel. That was definitely more fun than he thought it would be. He had her eating out of his hand, begging him to keep going. He knew that she could only be currently thinking about the things he could do to her in bed. Now that he let her taste it, she wanted it, she craved it, and she loved it. But love has a way of making you lust after what you want; forcing you to ache for it until every desire is fulfilled.
Enjolras sat back down at the bar, tapping it for a refill of his whiskey. He was still proud of himself for the scene at the pool table. Even more than he loved getting a woman in bed – which he practically had down to a science – he loved irritating the other guys making a play for her. Messing with their minds was as fun as playing mind games with women. The girl at the pool table had been putty in his hands. It wasn't the first time a woman had been so for him, but the feeling of accomplishment never went away.
The door to the bar banged open, and the gorgeous woman who floated in interrupted his thoughts. She was wearing all black, like him – little ankle boots with a slight heel, skinny pants, and a low-cut tank top, all of which clung to her insanely thin, but perfect form. She topped it off with a leather jacket. Her long, dark hair was loosely curled, and she wore smoky eye makeup that drew the attention straight to those dark brown orbs. Enjolras eyed her as she sat at the bar, only a few seats away from him. "What'll it be, missy?" the bartender asked her in his characteristically gruff voice as she sat down.
"Vodka tonic," she said in a voice that could almost be called commanding. "With Stoli, if you've got it."
"Coming right up."
He raised his eyebrows. "Quite a strong choice for a small body like yours," he noted offhand, sipping his whiskey. "Especially with Stoli. I've seen the straight stuff take down a grown man."
The woman turned to look at him. "I was probably the one to drink that grown man under the table, mister," she answered coolly, surprisingly not snapping at him. "My father's a distiller; I knew how to hold my liquor before I knew my numbers and letters."
Enjolras chuckled. "Quite a feat for a lady, Ms.…"
"Thénardier," she answered, pushing her hair back. "Éponine Thénardier."
He couldn't help but gape. "No. You can't possibly be the daughter of the most famous distiller in the country."
She couldn't help but laugh. "Auguste Thénardier? The very same."
Enjolras extended a hand on impulse. "It's an honor." She reached her icy hand out to his and their hands met in a clash of heat and cold. The chill of her hand sent a shiver through him while his skin burned against hers. The sensation of her hand was enough to send his heart beating a little faster.
Before Enjolras had a chance to give his name, the bartender returned with her order. "Here you go, sweetheart." Éponine pursed her lips together in response before transforming them into a delicate smile of gratitude.
"Bottoms up." She said as she raised her glass to Enjolras suggestively and downed a sip. He could help but stare transfixed at her as she swallowed her drink without a flinch. Éponine titled her head back to face him. "Never did catch your name, though."
He smiled slyly down at his now empty glass in hand. "Enjolras. First name's Gabriel but no one calls me that. Just Enjolras."
Her eyes now stared ahead of her watching the bottles of alcohol behind the counter while she twirled her glass in her hand, "So, a man who goes by his last name, huh? How…" she titled the corners of her mouth up into a half smile, "…interesting."
"Either interesting or...remarkable," he hummed to his glass.
"More like weird," she said bluntly causing him to chortle in response. He stopped as soon as he caught her smirking at him amused. Clearing his throat before continuing,
"Well, all right, Thénardier – "
"God no, don't call me that. I'd feel like my father," Éponine scoffed sardonically. "Just Éponine," she let out with a breath.
"Well, then I'm just Enjolras," he retorted.
She smiled as she brought her glass to her lips. "Whatever you say…Gabriel."
His face deadpanned. This girl was ridiculous. He had never met someone so stubborn and hardheaded in all his life. It was enough to make his blood boil. So much for even thinking he could take her home, they probably wouldn't even make it through the front door without arguing about something.
About this time a man sat down on the other side of Enjolras, away from Éponine. He raised his hand to signal the bartender. "Tequila Sunrise!" he called out loudly.
Éponine purred only a few seats away from Enjolras but still loud enough to be heard. It was a sexy sound, and he grinned to himself. "Tequila sounds so good right about now…"
"So get some," he answered, not necessarily sure if she was talking to him or just out loud.
"I couldn't," she sighed. "Tequila's my one big weakness. I mean, I love it but it just kinda turns you into another person."
"Well, they do say, 'tequila makes your clothes fall off.'"
She chuckled into her vodka. "It's true." The bartender placed the man's drink down on the counter. The smell of the orange juice was overwhelming and Éponine nearly groaned as it filled her senses. "Oh, you're gonna have to tie me up to keep me away from that, Gabriel."
His teeth gritted at the sound of his first name. "Don't tempt me," he muttered under his breath.
Éponine knocked back her glass finishing the rest of her vodka. "God, I could use another."
"Seriously?" Enjolras was shocked. This girl weighed what – maybe a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet, and she wanted more? She was definitely insane, and she definitely would not make it through another one.
"What?" She smirked. "I told you I could drink you under the table."
"Ha, sure," he chuckled, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.
Éponine turned fully towards him now crossing her arms over her chest. "What? You don't believe me?"
"I'm just saying, a girl your size…" his eyes gazed her up and down as if he was sizing her up. "There's no way."
"And what's that's supposed to mean?" She asked lifting her brow.
Enjolras titled his head back and smirked. Maybe he could have some fun with her. "I think after three shots you'd be so out of it, you won't even know which way is up."
"Care to place a bet on it then?"
His face turned incredulous. "Nah, you're not serious."
"Oh, I think I'm serious," she said as she leaned back in her chair and cracked her knuckles, "Gabriel," she added for emphasis.
Enjolras couldn't help but stare at her. Who did she think she was? She waltzes in here as if she owns the place and now thinks she could out-drink him? Well, what does she know? Gabriel Enjolras was certainly not one to back down from a challenge and especially not one that he could win. Well, he'd show her. "Name the terms."
Éponine pondered for a moment. "You win, then next week I'll buy as many drinks as you want. I win, you have to take me on a date."
Now it was Enjolras' turn to ponder. He'd never been one much for dates, but there was no way this girl could beat him in a drinking contest. Besides, drinks for a week was just too good to pass up. There's no way in hell I'm taking this girl on a date.
He grinned, taking another sip. "You're on."
A/N: Hope you're enjoying biker Enjy :D Please review!