Grantaire

Being cooped up in the athletes' village was so far not one of Grantaire's favourite experiences. He longed to go out and see the city of Glasgow, to find out where the best pubs and pie shops were. To just get out and wander for Christ's sake.

As it was, he couldn't touch a drop of drink that wasn't H2O or a protein shake, couldn't eat anything that didn't taste like it had been made in a lab and could not under any circumstances leave the complex, or so help me Grantaire I will string you up and fucking murder you. Those rules had been laid down by Grantaire's trainer and mentor Feuilly, an ex-Olympic boxer with 3 medals to his name; bronze, silver and gold. Grantaire venerated Feuilly, except when he was being a wanker like today.

He had to settle for jogging around the athletes' village to get some fresh air and when he wasn't training for his next match he spent it playing video games with Bahorel, a fellow boxer in the heavyweight division. It was one such morning whilst he was doing a couple of laps of the village compound that he stumbled across him.

It was guy in his early 20's doing warm up exercises on the little green between some of the flats of the village. Nothing really unusual about that, it was the fucking Commonwealth Games athletes village for God's sake, there were guys exercising everywhere.

But there was no-one like this guy.

He had curly golden hair which was pulled into a loose bun on top of his head and his face could have belonged to a statue. A very ripped statue. Grantaire could only gulp as he stared at the man's shoulders and arms, arms like that were not fucking legal. He found himself not really breathing as he watched the golden man performed stretches that, how the fuck does his body even do that?

Grantaire slowed his running down as he jogged around the green to get a better look at the guy. He was unbelievably good looking; like an angel who had fallen from heaven. Grantaire didn't believe in love at first sight, but he was definitely experiencing lust at first sight. As he approached the nearest corner to the guy his heart rate started picking up and he felt a bit breathless but it wasn't because of the exercise. Like a magnet he wanted nothing more than to run up to the man and make contact, whether it was through hands or mouth he didn't care.

But couldn't abandon his own fitness routine however, so as he made to carry on past the green he cast one glance back and continued on his route. He was doing laps so he made sure to slow down on his next time around. Yep, the guy was still there. Now he was doing some weird looking handstand thing and fuck how can he be so attractive upside down? His face was serene in concentration as he lowered his arms and gracefully rolled out of the handstand and stood up.

Once again Grantaire's legs carried him past the open space and he continued on his run. Only, on the third time back around he took out a length of rope from his little waist pouch, so that when he reached the green again he came to a halt and took up a very strategic position for best ogling and started to skip on the spot. This time the guy had been joined by two others and they had all put mats out and were doing similar routines together. They seemed to be good friends as well as teammates evident by the smiles and laughs as they chatted. They paid Grantaire no notice so he was able to just stare at the guy with golden hair. Grantaire tried to work out what sport these guys competed in, it was obviously something that needed a lot of strength, but all of them were very fluid movers, so it wasn't something like shotput for example which needed brute strength. He wondered if they were swimmers, two of the guys, including the golden haired god- he must be a god, no human has arms or pecs like that –were pretty tall and slim like swimmers. They could be rowers, he mused, they definitely all had that upper body strength thing going on.

However, one of the guys, the smaller one with short hair at the sides but lots of dark waves on top suddenly ran and then did a front flip, followed by a somersault and then a twisty thing, landing on two feet precisely.

Grantaire rolled his eyes as he continued skipping on the spot; fucking gymnasts.

It wasn't that he didn't think the guys weren't talented, they could do lots of flips and tricks and stuff, but it wasn't a real sport. Not really. Not compared to boxing.

Uh oh. The short guy who had done the flips was coming over towards him. Grantaire tried to make his face blank and pretend that he hadn't just been checking out golden guy's arse.

'Morning' said the dark haired in greeting.

'Hullo' replied Grantaire not breaking a bounce in his skipping.

'What sport?' asked the guy

'Oh, er, boxing' he answered.

'Really?' said the guy, sounding surprised. 'Wow, you don't look like one'

Grantaire raised a dark eyebrow 'Oh yeah? Know lots of boxers do you?'

'No' replied the guy cheerfully 'Now I do though, I'm Courfeyrac.'

'Grantaire'

'I'd shake your hand but you're skipping.' said Courfeyrac smirking. 'Not very manly, skipping.'

'Says the dancer' Grantaire came back with.

'Gymnast'

'Whatever.' he replied.

Courfeyrac laughed at this, and gave Grantaire the once over 'You should come and meet the other guys.'

'I don't think so.'

'Oh, so you weren't checking out Enjolras just now?' asked Courfeyrac with a smile on his face.

'I don't know who you're talking about' puffed Grantaire.

'Enjolras. That's his name, the one with the yellow hair and freakish poise.'

Grantaire couldn't help but glance back up to where Enjolras was now doing the splits. Oh mother of god help me.

'Come on' said Courfeyrac, 'Come meet the guys.' In answer, Grantaire just stopped skipping and moved to follow Courfeyrac, winding up the rope as he did so. He was so going to regret this.

'Guys this is Grantaire.' Courfeyrac introduced him to the other two gymnasts who were both sitting in what looked like incredibly painful positions on their mats. 'He's a boxer' Courfeyrac said as if this was a very important fact the other two men needed to know.

'Hi mate, nice to meet you, I'm Combeferre' said the guy next to Enjolras. Enjolras just muttered a greeting of 'Hello' before he got back to completing his stretches.

Courfeyrac sat down and joined the other two on the mats and proceeded to ask Grantaire lots of questions about his sport most of which Grantaire answered in one word answers, whilst watching Enjolras.

Up close, Grantaire could see the smattering of freckles across his cheeks and over his nose. He was truly the definition of beautiful. As Enjolras continued his routine, it gave Grantaire the opportunity to see how his muscles rippled through a stretch. It was equally very good and not good at all. It was good because Grantaire didn't think he'd seen anything so arousing, it was not at all good because Grantaire hadn't ever seen anything so arousing and it was making him get quite hot and uncomfortable where he sat on the slightly damp ground, trying to hold a conversation with Courfeyrac but constantly being distracted by Enjolras's arms.

'So when is your next event?' asked Courfeyrac 'Or haven't you started competing yet?'

'I've had my first bout' Grantaire informed him 'but my second fight is tomorrow night'.

Enjolras snorted. Grantaire stared at him, 'Something to say?' he asked, annoyed.

'A fight. Exactly. You're not a sportsman, boxing isn't a sport. It's just two blokes hitting each other, how is that a sport?'

'What did you say?' said Grantaire.

'Enjolras' breathed Combeferre, 'You can't say that'. Courfeyrac joined him in looking at Enjolras in shock.

'Boxing is not a sport.' repeated Enjolras stubbornly.

'You're actually serious aren't you?' asked Grantaire in disbelief. How can this godly-looking guy say something like that?

'Of course I am.' replied Enjolras calmly. 'Boxing is brutal and messy and it's hurting people. Causing injury cannot be grounds for a sport.'

'Oh just keep on going then! You're forgetting the girls' pointed out Grantaire, 'There's women's boxing this Games too, Apollo, you going to say that that's not a sport too? After everything those girls have worked towards to getting boxing into the Games?'

'Regardless of gender, boxing should not be in the Olympics or Commonwealth games' answered Enjolras obstinately.

'I can't believe this' said Grantaire. 'Who are you to dictate what a sport is and what isn't? I could very well say that fucking gymnastics isn't a sport. It's just poncy posturing'

Enjolras opened his mouth to no doubt argue back, but Courfeyrac interrupted 'Hey guys! Let's not argue about who's sport is better or who's sport is a sport. Let's just agree that we're all here, representing our country in one of the biggest multi-sport events in the world…okay?' He glared at Enjolras as if daring him to argue. Enjolras just grumbled 'fine', but Grantaire could feel the anger coming off him in waves.

Courfeyrac turned to Grantaire then and said 'You don't really think gymnastic is poncy posturing do you?'

'Er well' said Grantaire reaching to run a hand through his dark messy curls, he was being shown up now and was regretting some of his earlier thoughts about gymnastics, 'I've never really seen gymnastics, apart from a couple of shots on T.V so I can only go on what I've seen'.

'Well you should come and see us!' cried Courfeyrac. At this, Enjolras's mouth gaped open and one of Combeferre's eyebrows went right up. 'Come and see us compete, we start in two days.'

'Errr, I don't know' stalled Grantaire. Courfeyrac was giving him puppy eyes and something within Grantaire very much wanted to say yes. Another part of him also wanted him to say yes, but Grantaire was going to think with his brain and not with his penis goddammit.

'Well, if you came and saw us compete then, the least we could do is come and see you compete' suggested Combeferre. And now Enjolras was staring at Combeferre in horror 'I will NOT go and see two grown men who should know better knock each other senseless to prove who is the mightier' he said.

Really this was extra motivation for Grantaire. Getting to see Enjolras use those muscles he'd been stretching all morning and then having a chance to prove him wrong? What was not to like about this plan?

'Yeah okay.' He agreed.

'No' said Enjolras flatly. 'No, I won't allow it.'

'It's a free country Apollo, I can do anything I please and seeing you in tights will make my day.'

'They're not tights!' exclaimed Enjolras.

'Whatever.' said Grantaire, turning to Courfeyrac he said '7pm, SECC Precinct tomorrow evening, if you want to come.'

'Waaaaaht!' cried Courfeyrac, 'That's the same arena as the gymnastics! We'll only be next door!'

'No excuses not to come then' added Combeferre, 'We'll be there, all three of us.' Enjolras scowled at Combeferre.

At that moment they were distracted by a noise getting louder and louder.

'GRANTAIRE YOU PIECE OF SHIT WHERE ARE YOU!'

'Fuck' swore Grantaire as he hastily stood up and dusted himself off, 'Sorry guys that's my trainer, I've gotta go or else he'll castrate me.'

They could hear Feuilly hollering 'GRANTAIRE, YOU GET YOUR ARSE BACK HERE RIGHT NOW OR I SWEAR TO GOD-'

Grantaire quickly shook hands with the Combeferre and Courferyrac (Enjolras turned his nose up snootily) and jogged off back towards Feuilly and the flat he shared with the other boxers.

He briefly wondered what he had let himself in for.