First smut scene! This is e/R, so TW for slash.
It started innocently enough. Grantaire's bare foot was brushing Enjolras's jeaned calf, causing little goosebumbs to emerge on the hidden skin. Then the movements of that foot became more demanding. His sole rubbed incessantly against the denim and his toes curled around the muscled curve of Apollo's leg before coming away, only to return with just as much zeal.
To Enjolras's credit, he was holding up well. Other than a small twitch along his jaw line, he appeared to be relatively unmoved. As he always was. But that twitch of slight discomfort allowed Grantaire to know that Enjolras knew exactly what he was hinting at. When blue eyes looked up to meet Grantaire's, Enjolras was met with a fixed stare on his lips, and he knew he could no longer deny the drunk his needs.
He stood up with a labored sigh, as if someone had just asked him to do a particularly difficult favor. Grantaire stood as well and bowed dramatically to the rest of the group. Combeferre frowned disapprovingly- there was work to be done, after all- but his expression soon turned to that of shock, and one of Éponine's hands was noticeably missing from around her bottle.
Grantaire and Enjolras exited the Musain, passing a smug Musichetta who winked at the two of them. On their way out, she smacked Enjolras's ass and murmured to Grantaire, "Go get 'im, Tiger!"
There was a slowly growing bet amongst their tightly-knit web of who would be the first to make Enjolras genuinely enjoy a sexual act. He participated, often assisting one of the boys if they needed help finishing off, and once fingering Musichetta in a Taco Bell bathroom when she got in the mood and neither Joly nor Bossuet was around. Despite this, he himself was not one who attended to his instincts. Many were sure he had no needs.
Grantare was determined to prove them wrong. How ironic, for the cynic to believe in nothing but his opposite.
Grantaire led Enjolras to an alley and as soon as the two of them were hidden in shadows, the artist attacked that red mouth, his tongue sliding and colliding with Enjolras's silver one. Grantaire's hands roamed, one locking around Enjolras's cheek and the other on his waist, his thumb dangerously near his member.
Eventually Enjolras pulled away from the kiss and knelt on the ground, unbuckling Grantaire's trousers. He looked up then, as if needing permission. Grantaire was blown away by that image of the mighty Apollo, knelt before him with his blond hair in disarray and his blue eyes shining with something other than disapproval. It was all Grantaire could do to nod in affirmation of Enjolras's silent question.
And so he continued, pulling the fabric so that it rested around Grantaire's mid-thigh and doing the same with his slightly (too) old boxers.
Grantaire was more than hard by that point. His cock sprang free, fully erect with a glistening of pre-cum frosting his head. Enjolras's mouth descended, and Grantaire sharply inhaled.
Enjolras's mouth felt like heaven around his shaft. Those pretty lips were good for more than just mouthing words as he poured over difficult texts. Enjolras bobbed his head back up, releasing Grantaire's cock with a sensual 'pop!'.
Grantaire whined like a wronged child at the lack of Apollo's mouth, but his childish noise soon dissolved into a breathy moan as Enjolras returned, capturing all of Grantaire in one swift nod.
Grantaire raised his hand to his mouth and bit it sharply to stop from screaming aloud. They were in public after all, and no matter how perfect Enjolras's throat felt around him, Grantaire would be properly quiet.
Enjolras's silver tongue began to lick Grantaire's head as he continued bobbing up and down. Grantaire bit hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste combined with Enjolras's excellent oral skills made for his finish.
His free hand grasped a handful of blond curls and he bucked into Enjolras's throat, feeling the blond gag as Grantaire came roughly into his mouth.
"Sorry," He managed, still a touch breathless from his orgasm. Enjolras attempted to swallow his load, spitting what he couldn't onto the dirty alley ground. He stood and shook his head, saying 'it's nothing' with that little motion, still licking away what remained of Grantaire's cum.
Enjolras's jeans, spotless mere minutes before, now had knees that were coated with filth from the squalid ground. For some reason, seeing the spotless man with imperfect clothing made him all the more eager to remove said clothing.
"Can I try something?" Grantaire asked. Enjolas, finally ready to speak, narrowed his eyes.
"Grantaire, you know I just don't respond to-" He tried to protest, but at that point the deft artist's fingers were already unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down his boxers. Just as Grantaire expected to see, Enjolras was still very flaccid despite their steamy alleyway encounter.
"Just do this for me," He whispered in Enjolras's ear, backing him up until his back hit the brick wall. "Imagine that I'm not doing this to you. Just close your eyes and pretend that we aren't here."
Enjolras did as was told. Grantaire's fingers became hesitant before wrapping themselves around his idol's most intimate body part. He slowly began to pump. On every other stroke, his thumb rolled over Enjolras's head. Even after several minutes of this, there was only the smallest reaction from Enjolras, causing Grantaire to grow slightly impatient.
"If it will help, put your hand on top of mine and just pretend that you're doing this to yourself." Grantaire whispered into the sweaty crook of Enjolras's neck. One smooth hand lay atop Grantaire's as he continued his motions.
Grantaire's other hand gently fondled Enjolras's balls, and after a few strokes with their entwined hands, Enjolras grew hard under Grantaire's palms. The cynic had to hold back an inopportune snort.
As it was with all great men, Enjolras was at least a little bit narcissistic. Not when it came to his own looks as it was with most, but with many other things. More like a combination of his many skills, his vast knowledge, and the ability to put his talents to use.
Enjolras moaned so quietly it was almost like a prayer against Grantaire's hot skin. His hips bucked against Grantaire's hand, and so the Grantaire pushed himself against Enjolras so that his right hip was holding Enjolras's left in place. His hand continued its mission, and eventually Enjolras's fell to his side and he closed his eyes and allowed his mouth to hang open in a silent scream.
Enjolras finished, his cum dripping onto the ground, a bit getting on Grantaire's hands and his own shoes. Grantaire moved away from Enjolras, smirking as Enjolras gathered himself, flushing slightly at having been so physically vulnerable.
"That's three months of free drinks for me!" Grantaire joked as the two of them returned to their friends. Enjolras's eyebrows raised in question.
"You made a bet on who would be the first to make me orgasm?" He asked.
Grantaire groaned mockingly. "You make it sound so formal! But yes, yes we did."
After a few moments' deliberation, Enjolras shrugged nonchalantly. "I feel like I should be upset about it, but I'm strangely not."
"You know us too well." Grantaire said, slinging his arm over Enjolras's lean shoulders. They entered the room like this, and it was Enjolras who delivered the news to the group.
"You all owe Grantaire three months of free drinks." He said, simply. It took a moment for it to sink in, and Éponine was the first to speak.
"You don't mean to say-"
"Yeah, I got him off." Grantaire boasted, taking his seat. Soon after, Enjolras joined him.
Unable to resume his work after what transpired that evening, Enjolras sat back and allowed himself to be lulled into the cadence of his friends (and lovers). Courfeyrac's arm was around his waist, Grantaire's hand was on his knee, and he and Combeferre rested their entwined hands on Courfeyrac's lap.
Looking around the table, all the members were connected in some way or the other. It was the tangible representation of what they were, who they were.
Review my one follower with thy OTP! (hi, by the way!)