Enjolras put on the kettle with shaking hands. In all the years of buying and freeing slave he had never once raised his voice or physically assaulted one person. In the space of five minutes he had done both. He had grabbed her so hard her arms would probably bruise and Éponine and Grantaire would never trust him.
"Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck!" Enjolras cursed as he made himself coffee.
Everything was ruined.
Enjolras seated himself behind his desk in his study and started working on some contracts to distract him. He immersed himself in his work and only stopped working when his stomach grumbled. He glanced at the time on his computer: almost seven o'clock. He hadn't eaten yet today. And Éponine and Grantaire only had a few meagre mouthfuls. At the thought of Éponine he felt overcome by guilt. He knew he was a monster, but he tried so hard to hide it. His friends often mocked him for never having a girlfriend or lover, he brushed them off. My only mistress is Patria, he would say. They called him the marble man. If only they knew what a demon he really was, what the true reason behind his lack of romance was, they would never trust him again.
He took several deep breaths and calmed himself. It wouldn't do to upset them more, especially Grantaire, who seemed to be more troubled than Éponine.
He made his way up the stairs and into Éponine's room. He found her curled up against Grantaire. Enjolras stepped on a squeaky floorboard and Grantaire's eyes flew open. He shoved Éponine off him and fell to his knees next to the bed. The sound of bone meeting wood made Enjolras flinch.
"Please, Master, I swear to you, we were not doing anything, please punish this slave as you see fit, but know I am a loyal slave, I would never use that which is yours," Grantaire bent his head to Enjolras' shoes.
"Grantaire, please, stop," Enjolras said, kneeling down next to the man. "I am not going to punish you. Everything is perfectly all right. I just wanted to fetch you for dinner. You both must be starving. I still don't have much in the way of food, but I have pasta and fresh herbs," Enjolras offered, with a hand on the man's shoulder.
"Master, I was an outdoors slave, I do not want to disappoint Master, but I do not know how to cook." Grantaire looked as if he was going to pass out again.
"Don't be silly, I don't want you to cook, but I do want you to eat. I'll go get started in the kitchen and you two come down when you're ready." Enjolras smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring. Then he looked up at Éponine who was sitting on the bed hugging her knees to her chest. Her brown eyes were wide with… gratitude?
"Éponine, please tell Grantaire that I'm not going to hurt you and then come down to eat."
As Enjolras walked back to the kitchen he tried to calm his heart. Every time he looked at Éponine, his heart started beating like a rabbit's. His reaction distressed him. He put the kettle on to boil the water for the spaghetti. When the spaghetti was cooking he started chopping up fresh basil, rocket and coriander that Jehan thankfully brought round yesterday from his garden.
Éponine and Grantaire tentatively enter the kitchen. Enjolras smiles brightly at them. Grantaire immediately falls to his knees again, begging Enjolras to let him try to cook, that he only wants to be a good slave and please his new master.
Éponine just stands behind him, eyes downcast.
"Nonsense," Enjolras says in his most assertive voice. "Grantaire, up you come and sit at the table. You too, Éponine."
"On the chairs, Master?" Grantaire asks confusedly.
"Yes, love, on a chair," Enjolras starts grating a lemon for zest, another gift from Jehan.
"But we are slaves, Sir; we don't deserve to touch the furniture… I am sorry for contradicting Master." Grantaire pressed his forehead to the floor.
Enjolras stopped grating.
"Grantaire, I've told you this, I didn't buy you because I wanted a slave. I bought you to make you a free man. Free men can sit on whatever they like. Come sit." As an afterthought he added, "Don't call me Master."
Grantaire sat down trembling and pale faced. Éponine sat next to him, still not making eye-contact. Enjolras finished chopping and drained the spaghetti. In a white porcelain bowl he mixed the herbs, lemon zest and some salt and pepper into the pasta. He finished it off by squeezing the lemon juice over it. He placed the bowl in the middle of the table and brought them each a bowl and a fork and spoon.
"I know it isn't exactly a balanced meal, but it's fresh and filling… I hope." Enjolras sat down across from Éponine. He motioned her to take some of the pasta.
Her eyes finally met his.
"I don't understand, Sir."
All the fire from this afternoon was gone, replaced by a dead voice.
"Help yourself." He gestured to the bowl again.
She stood up slightly and took the serving spoon in one small hand and dropped a helping of pasta into his bowl.
"No, no, I meant, serve yourself, as in take some pasta for you," Enjolras corrected in a kind voice.
"I am a slave, I don't deserve to be eating food Master made for himself at Master's table like a person," Éponine deadpanned.
Enjolras' gaped at her.
"Éponine, what are you talking about? What's wrong? Did I do something to upset you?" Then he remembered grabbing her and shouting at her.
"I am very sorry for acting the way I did this afternoon. I understand you have been through a lot and obviously didn't want to talk to me, I shouldn't have pushed you to talk to me. And then I shouldn't have grabbed and yelled at you. It was unforgivably rude of me. Will you please accept my apology and eat some of my potentially awful cooking?" Enjolras finished with a wry smile, but felt queasy. Something was very off.
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Sir. I am a slave that you may treat as you want."
Enjolras abruptly stood up and walked to the girl. He cupped his face in his left hand.
"What is this? Tell me why you are acting like this," he demanded.
"I am a slave, Sir, and I'm just trying to be good to better please Master."
Her expressionless eyes stared up at him. Suddenly he felt a red hot rush of anger flood him. He was angry at all the people who had ruined Éponine's life and made her like this. He was angry at Éponine for suddenly losing her ferocity. Before he could think it through he picked up his bowl she had filled with pasta and slammed it down in front of her so hard he thought the bowl might break.
"Eat," he ordered in a low voice.
Grantaire was shaking.
Enjolras pointed at the pasta.
"You too."
Grantaire helped himself to a tiny helping of pasta, glancing uncertainly at Enjolras.
"More."
Enjolras watched him like a hawk until he had what Enjolras thought was enough food in his bowl. Then Enjolras took the empty bowl from under Éponine's nose. She was only staring at the pasta.
"I know it might taste like shit to you, but you haven't had a meal in days, you need the food right now. So you can eat it yourself or I can come and feed it to you," he told her sternly, his anger starting to dissipate.
"Whatever Master would prefer," she whispered.
Enjolras picked up her hand and placed a fork in it. He tried to push the pleasure he got from touching her hand to the back of his mind.
"Eat, please."
"I am sorry to bother Master, but are we supposed to eat with the fork?" Grantaire asked in a wobbly voice.
Enjolras looked baffled.
"How else would you eat?" he enquired.
"This slave has never eaten with a fork before, Sir. We only ever ate with our hands, like the filthy animals we are."
"Don't call yourself that," Enjolras snapped. "Just mimic what I'm doing. And eat, Éponine."
They finished their meal in extremely awkward silence until Éponine spoke.
"May I clear the table, Sir?"
"No, it's fine, I'll do it. Do you two want to go watch some television, maybe?" Enjolras suggested.
"Master, slaves don't…" Grantaire begin, but Enjolras cut him off.
"I don't want to hear it. Go and turn on the television, I'll join you shortly."
They awkwardly stood up and made their way into the lounge. Only when Enjolras heard the television turning on, did he start to wash the dishes. He remembered the platter of food from this afternoon. He went into the lounge to get it, when he saw Éponine and Grantaire kneeling on the floor in front of the television.
"What are you doing?"
"We are watching the television, Sir," Grantaire answered.
"But why are you kneeling?"
"It is the proper position for a slave."
Enjolras picked up the platter.
"Both of you, on the sofa, now."
They stood up silently and awkwardly sat down.
"Get comfortable, put you feet up. You are not slaves in this house, you are guests. Just relax," he returned to the kitchen and finished cleaning the dishes as quickly as he could. He joined the duo again. They were in the exact same positions that he left them in. He chose to ignore that.
"Tomorrow I want to buy you some clothes," he said.
"That isn't necessary, Master, slaves don't need clothes," Éponine muttered.
"I can't set you free without clothes, can I?" Enjolras asked.
Both slaves just looked down.
"Please, could you just stop acting like this? I know you're scared of me and what I'm asking goes against your past experiences, but please just stop acting like this. I want you to get used to the idea of being free. I want you to talk to me, to get comfortable… please." Enjolras looked close to tears.
He couldn't understand what had happened to make them regress so rapidly.
The slaves were silent.
"When was the last time you two had a shower?" Enjolras asked.
"Outdoors slaves get hosed off once a week, Sir," Grantaire replied.
"Well, free men shower daily. Why don't you two go to your bathrooms and take a shower? There is shampoo and soap in both the bathrooms. The red knob is for warm water and the blue one for cold. Make the water a nice lukewarm temperature, no need for you to have a cold shower." Enjolras smiled at Grantaire.
Grantaire obediently stood up to leave, but Éponine stayed where she was. After his footsteps had disappeared up the stairs Éponine addressed Enjolras.
"I am sorry for my behaviour earlier this afternoon, Sir. I am ready to be punished." She slid down onto her knees.
"Éponine, love, I am not going to punish you," Enjolras assured her. She stayed on the floor.
"I need to punished, Sir, otherwise I will never learn," she whispered.
"Éponine, you don't have to learn anything, except how to be a free woman. I want you to stand up and go take a shower and then sleep."
"Please, Master, I know I've been bad and I know it's effort to punish me, but please… It is the only way I will ever learn." Her head was still bowed submissively.
Enjolras started to panic. Her behaviour was causing him to lose his careful control over his monstrous desires. He couldn't show her that.
"I need to be hurt to learn my lesson, Master."
That sentence was the final straw. Enjolras was hard in his pants and he had no way to hide it. It was right in front of her beautiful face.
"I…" he started to apologise, but her small, deft hands were already unzipping his fly.
"Let me show you that I can be a good slave, Master," she said, reaching her hand to cup his erection.
He hissed at the contact and grabbed both of her thin wrists.
"No, Éponine, this isn't what I want. I don't want you to pleasure me. I don't want you to feel bad anymore; you have nothing to feel bad about. I just want you to go shower and go to bed," Enjolras said in a strangled voice.
"But, Master, I will feel bad until I have been punished," she tried to lower her mouth onto his cock.
Enjolras pulled her torso up by her wrists just in time.
"Sexual acts are not supposed to be a punishment," Enjolras said, even though his cock twitched.
"I do not want you to engage in any sexual activity that is not of your free will."
"I have no free will, Master, I am a bad, bad slave who needs to be punished."
Enjolras was starting to feel light-headed. There was no blood in his brain left.
"Listen to me, Éponine, I cannot do this with you. I want to have you pleasure me, because you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, but I have these… urges. I do not only want to have sex with you and kiss you, I want… other things, things that make me a monster." His face was contorted as if he was in agony.
"You may do anything you wish to me, Master. I am your slave." Éponine bowed her head submissively.
"No, I may not. You do not want me, you feel you need punishment," Enjolras gritted out.
"Master, not that it matters, but you are the most attractive man I have ever seen," Éponine shyly whispered to him.
"But what about Grantaire? Aren't you lovers?" he asked, confused.
"No, Sir. He would never touch Master's property."
"Do you want him? Answer honestly"
"No, Sir. He is my dearest friend, but I do not want him like I want you," she purred.
"Oh God…" he moaned, "you're lying."
"No, Sir, lying is a great sin."
He gave her a sharp look. There seemed to be a glimmer of fire back in her eyes.
"I have only ever been with an old man, who took great pleasure in causing me pain. You are young and incredibly handsome. You seem to not want to hurt me - a worthless slave. I want to show you how thankful I am."
Her eyes were definitely bright now. But she thought Enjolras wasn't going to hurt her.
"I know you think you want this, but it's just Stockholm syndrome. You think you want to do this, because in your mind I took you away from something worse. I am a monster. I…" he looked down at her face and his eyes were swimming with tears. "I want to hurt you. I have never told anyone this, but I have never been with a woman, because what arouses me most is the thought of a woman in pain. I know I am disgusting, monstrous, but I can't help it. The only thing I can do is to not engage in sexual contact." He was blushing furiously and even his cock shrunk slightly, because of his shame.
"Are you a virgin, Master?" Éponine asked with wide eyes.
He just nodded.
"Please, do to me what you like, I can take it, I promise I can take it," she whispered to him excitedly.
He shook his head, biting his lip. His eyes were squeezed shut.
"No," he moaned, his hands leaving her wrists to tear in his own hair.
Éponine saw this as her chance. She stood up and straddled him, grinding her sex against him.
"Stop," he whispered, but buried her face in her breast.
"I have never felt like this before, Monsieur Enjolras. I've never wanted to fuck someone before. But now... I feel this weird knot right here," she took his hand and placed in on her flat stomach.
"It feels good when I rub myself against you." She ground down on him, eliciting a moan from his lips.
"I think I'm aroused for the first time in my life – all because of seeing you fight your inner demons. Seeing how you battle against your dark side. It feels wet down there," she whimpered in his ear. "It has never felt like this before: I want to do something about this feeling and I think I need to fuck you."
Enjolras made a primal noise and hugged her impossibly small waist to his hard chest.
"This is wrong, I'm taking advantage of you..." he started to move her off him.
"No, please, Sir! Please," she was writhing on his lap, desperate for friction.
Enjolras took a shuddering breath and stilled.
"Go lie on the couch."
There was no way Éponine could disobey the command.
She pulled his T-shirt over her head and lay on the couch stark naked.
Enjolras knelt down beside her. He tilted his head to suck the closest nipple and his other hand immediately brushed her sex. When his fingers were sufficiently lubricated, he began massaging her clit.
"Oh God! What are you doing?" Her cheeks were flushed and her hips bucked, as if of their own accord.
"I'm making you feel good, no?" His cheeks were also flushed and he wore a smile of complete rapture.
"Yes, so good..." She closed her eyes and just thrust in time with his hand. It only took about eight minutes until she grabbed his hair and made a high keening sound and experienced her first orgasm.
Enjolras leaned over to kiss her flushed cheek.
"I... fuck... that was so weird... I can't move..." Her eyes were hooded in pleasure.
"I'm glad you liked it, now hopefully you can get a good night's rest," Enjolras said, already tucking his throbbing member back in his pants.
"Let me return the favour?" Éponine smiled like a vixen.
Enjolras sighed.
"I thought I explained to you the reason why you couldn't," he said, glancing at her naked form regretfully.
"I could take a little pain in exchange for this much pleasure."
"No. That is wrong," he said dismissively.
Éponine was on her feet again.
"Do I have to make you angry again?" she asked, impishly.
"Please don't." He sounded so weary.
"Then punish me for being a greedy little slave who made you pleasure her."
"No."
"What are you scared of?" She was right under his nose again.
"Myself – what I might do to you," he gritted out.
Then she slapped him across the face.
"Liar. You're afraid you'll have to compromise your beliefs if you like beating and fucking me too much."
Enjolras could feel the rage fuelled by his arousal build.
"Don't you dare ever hit me again," his voice was low and warning.
Her hand made to deliver another slap, but he caught her wrist. In seconds she was pulled over his lap and his palm smacked down on her ass. She yelped slightly. He hit firmly, but not hard enough to qualify as really hurting. She wiggled and felt his member twitch beneath her. His hand kept on smacking firmly.
The spanking stopped abruptly. His hand rubbed the pink flesh of her ass. It was stinging and his touch felt good. His hand stilled.
"Oh my God." He sounded horrified.
"What have I done? I'm so sorry," he lifted her off his lap. "I am so sorry, I don't know what came over me." He looked absolutely terrified.
Éponine was looking at the fretting man in front of her incredulously.
"Was that it?" she asked, not able to keep the laughter out of her voice.
"I'm so sorry," he chanted over and over.
"Monsieur, that was nothing! I thought you wanted to tie me up and punch me until I spat blood!" Éponine laughed. "A little smacking isn't bad."
"No, I hurt you. I'm a monster." He buried his head in his hands.
"Turn around," came his muffled order.
Éponine obediently turned her back to him.
Enjolras groaned again. The sight of her pink ass made him painfully aware of his need, but also made him feel guilty. Without warning she wiggled her ass in his face. Instinctively he gave her another slap. He was entranced to see her ass wobble slightly on impact. Éponine just giggled.
Enjolras looked at her face. She was smiling genuinely. Her cheeks were still flushed. Her brown eyes glittered playfully at him. She bit her lip and giggled again.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to sit on his lap. She curled her legs up and placed them astride his thighs on the couch.
"Are you sure I'm not a moster?" he asked softly, uncertainly.
"You're not a monster, just a man who likes to smack me like a little girl," she said and nuzzled her nose into his blond curls.
"Oh God, now you're making me sound like a paedophile." Despite the comment he was smiling. This beautiful naked woman was perched on his lap with her pink ass.
"Everyone has something they like," she said. "I evidently like to make a man angry. You like to punish me. It looks like we were made to be," she joked.
His arms instinctively tightened around her.
"Don't tempt me, love."
They shared a moment of silent contentment.
"If you have never been with a girl, where did you learn what you did to me?"
Enjolras blushed.
"It's a pretty wacky story, actually. A friend of mine, Cosette, broke her arm in our second year of university. It was a pretty stressful time, exam-wise. She had to dictate all her answers to someone; it was all very frustrating for her. So one night I was tutoring her in first-year maths. She's a year younger than me, and even though I studied law, I'm pretty good at math. And she was so stressed and then started crying. I didn't know what to do. Then she said that she hasn't come since she broke her arm and she was just so sexually frustrated. Stupidly, I asked if there was anything I could do to help." Enjolras smiled bashfully at Éponine. "She taught me how to pleasure a woman. Marius would die if he ever found out. They're married now."
"That is a demanding woman," Éponine said.
"Well, the education came in handy, didn't it?" He pressed his lips to her soft neck.
"You must let me return the favour," Éponine breathed.
"I don't want you to do anything that will remind you of your old master. I want you to be a free woman. I want you to tell me to stop if I do something you don't like." He started to remove his arms.
"No! Please... hold me like that," Éponine drew his hands around her again.
"I don't know exactly what I'm feeling, but I feel happy. I feel so cared for... I didn't even mind the smacking. It's like the feeling I got when Ailain used to smack me, but it also makes me feel mushy right here." She rubbed her hand over her stomach.
"That is arousal." Enjolras was throbbing again.
"Well, it's nice. My previous master didn't make me feel that ever. You make me feel... so good." She arched her back and rubbed her face into his shoulder.
"Well, 'Ponine, I aim to please. And I don't want to trigger any bad feelings in you, but I do sort of need release now. You can go take your shower now and sleep, I just need to take care of," he gestured to his crotch, "this."
"Master... Enjolras, let me show you how good I can make you feel," Éponine purred into his ear.
"No, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to..." he started.
"I want this."
Her statement sounded so assured, Enjolras couldn't argue.
Enjolras picked her up by her waist and turned her so she was straddling him. He kissed her and it was as if he was in heaven. Her plump lips were soft and warm against his own. She seemed startled at first, but quickly melted into the kiss. His tongue licked her lower lip and she opened her mouth to him. He rubbed her hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing her to gasp against his mouth. Her hips started to gyrate. She pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. He was content to do this for a few minutes before he pulled away.
"May I ask you to do something?" he panted.
"Anything."
"Will you lay over my lap again? I won't hit hard, I promise."
Éponine's smile was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. She quickly turned herself over his lap. Enjolras couldn't help feel his chest swell with pride at the wet spot she had left on his pants. He rubbed the slightly pink flesh before him. Then he gave her a soft almost-smack. She moaned and wiggled on his lap.
"Stay still, my naughty girl," Enjolras murmured and held her more tightly with his left arm. He started to lightly smack her, pausing after every few smacks to rub her ass.
"May I give you a few hard ones, my love?" he asked, his voice filled with lust.
Éponine felt her stomach tighten when he called her his love. She felt the same frenzied knot she felt before the couch affair. She thrust out her bottom at him.
Without hesitation his hand came down hard on her ass. His finger marks were clearly visible on her. She gasped at the sudden impact. He rubbed the mark.
"Are you okay, my love?"
"Yes," came her husky reply.
He slapped her again, on the other cheek. He gave a low groan and thrust up into her stomach. She took that as her cue and slid down to kneel between his knees. His eyes followed her as she pulled out his hard cock. It was wet with precum and it looked vastly different to her old master's. It was thick and slightly longer than her hand. She was overcome by the need to suck on it. This action made Enjolras gasp and grab at her hair. She slid her lips down his length, taking him all in. He whimpered and shallowly thrusted into her throat. She bobbed her head up and down a dozen times and then he came into her mouth with an animalistic grunt.
His head dropped back onto the backrest of the couch as he struggled to catch his breath.
Éponine settled herself back onto his lap with her cheek against his hard chest.
Enjolras kissed her on the top of her head.
"Thank you, I have never felt anything like that in my life," he panted.
"Well, you showed me something new, I had to return the favour," she whispered.
"You didn't need to, love." Enjolras wrapped his arms around her protectively.
"I wanted to." She was surprised at how true the words were.
"I don't want to feel pressured into it, but do you want to sleep in my bed tonight? If you find it weird, feel free to go to your own, but..."
"I would love to, but maybe I should have that shower first," she beamed at him.
"I have a bath," he suggested.
"Perfect."
Without warning he stood up with her in his arms, bridal style. She squeaked at the sudden movement. He kicked off his jeans and boxers that were still hanging around his knees. Then he proceeded to carry her up the stairs and into his bedroom. He threw her down on his plush bed and could only laugh at her squeal of surprise and her subsequent squeal of delight at the soft bedding. He switched on his bedroom light and closed the door behind him.
The bed was also an antique four-poster in a dark wood. All the furniture matched it. It was all antique and looked regal. The bed was covered in a soft black blanket. There were books scattered around the room as well as a red shirt on the floor. The room was clean and the bed made.
Enjolras disappeared into the en suite bathroom and began drawing a bath. The marble bath was big enough for two people. He spotted an old bottle of his mother's bubble bath and squirted in a healthy amount of it into the water. He left the water to run and walked into the room in time to see Éponine rolling around the bed like a dog trying to make itself comfortable. She stopped the moment she saw him and curled up bashfully.
"Oh, don't stop on my account, you were absolutely adorable," he laughed.
She just bit her lip and giggled.
Enjolras took off his shoes and socks, tossing them in a laundry basket in the corner.
"Would you mind if I joined you in the bath, 'Ponine?"
She nodded her head.
"Don't feel pressured..."
"I don't," she cut him off.
"Then come into the bathroom with me."
He turned off the running taps and tested the water temperature. It was pleasantly warm for the summer night. The bath was filled with bubbles. Enjolras slid into the bath and motioned her to sit between his legs. She hesitantly climbed in, but then relaxed into his chest with a sigh.
He rubbed her arms and shoulders and kissed her in her neck.
"Do you still think I am lying when I say I want to set you free and don't want to hurt you?" he asked.
"No," she said uncertainly, as if she almost couldn't believe it herself.
"Good," he said. "May I wash your hair?"
"What?" she sounded confused.
"May I wash your hair for you?" he repeated.
"Master..."
"Enjolras."
"Enjolras, I can do it myself..."
"I could have made myself come, but you sucked me off beautifully. Just relax and let me take care of you," he said in a loving voice. "Just wet your hair for me, darling."
Éponine slid down and submerged her head under the layer of bubbles. She had last had a bubble bath when she was very young, maybe six. She emerged, savouring the feeling of bubbles softly clinging to her face.
His hands began massaging her scalp with shampoo that smelled of apples. His thumbs rubbed her temples and she closed her eyes. She softly moaned and let her head tip back.
Enjolras finished rubbing her scalp and rubbed shampoo into the rest of her long hair.
"Rinse, please."
She disappeared under the water again and threaded her fingers through her hair to wash out the shampoo.
The next step was conditioner. Her hair was dry and broken and Enjolras was determined to fix that. It was lucky he had such "girly hair" as Courfeyrac always put it, he did own conditioner.
He repeated the process of massaging her scalp and then rubbing the rest of the conditioner into her hair.
"Rinse."
When she came up after the conditioning he started to get out of the bath.
"Where are you going?" she asked, she asked in a soft voice.
"I am going to let you wash yourself, I think you might want to do that after your recent accommodations at the auction house. I'm just going to be in the bedroom."
He left the bathroom with a towel around his slender hips and Éponine admired the view of his strong back and legs before he shut the door behind him. She relaxed into the water for a moment.
This was the best day of her life. She was going to escape being a slave soon. She had an orgasm. She sucked off her owner... no, she didn't want to think of her as her owner. He was just Enjolras, her angel.
Then she leaned over to look at all the soaps and body washes Enjolras had accumulated on the marble surface next to the bath. She vowed to try them all before she left the bath.
Meanwhile, Enjolras put on fresh boxers. He remembered the clothes they had left on the living room floor and started to go pick it up, lest Grantaire see it.
Grantaire.
Enjolras cursed under his breath. They were noisy at times; Grantaire probably heard them and assumed the worst. Enjolras suddenly felt very guilty about what he had done to Éponine.
Done with Éponine, he corrected himself. He made his way down to the living room and picked up the clothes. He deposited them in his laundry basket. Éponine was still in the bathroom. He heard faint splashing noises and couldn't help smiling to himself.
Then he steeled himself and walked to Grantaire's room.
The door was ajar and he knocked softly.
"Are you awake?"
Grantaire was lying on his back on the bed, in the same clothes Enjolras had given him, but his mass of raven curls were wet.
"Yes, Sir."
"You don't need to call me sir. Did you have a good shower?"
"Yes, Master."
Enjolras suddenly felt extremely self-conscious in his boxers.
"Well, uhm, feel free to come and get me if you feel scared or freaked out of something. If you're hungry, raid the fridge, for all it's worth. We'll go shopping for food and clothes tomorrow, okay? Good night, Grantaire."
"Good night, Master."
Enjolras stepped out of the room and left the door ajar as it was.
He returned to his bedroom and shut the door. He then settled himself on the bed and waited for Éponine to finish up. It took about another five minutes for her to appear wrapped in one of his fluffy white towels. She beamed at him.
"I think I used all of your fancy shower things, every single one of them," she announced as if it was an accomplishment.
Enjolras chuckled and stood up.
"You are as cute as a button," he said and tapped her nose with his forefinger.
"Come sit over here, I'm going to blow-dry your hair a bit," he said, patting a wooden bench at the vanity. He drew open a drawer and pulled out a hair-dryer and plugged it in.
Éponine gave him a strange look, but sat down in front of him.
"Prepare to be amazed at stylist Enjolras' hair talents," he said in his most camp voice. Éponine burst out laughing when he tossed his own curls and fluttered his eyelids at her in the mirror.
Then he set to work brushing out her long hair with an old brush that was probably his mother's long ago. He never really removed all his parents' things, he just added his own.
When her hair was sufficiently unknotted he started to blow-dry it. Éponine patiently watched him work with her hair until he declared it dry enough to sleep with.
"Are you sure you're comfortable sleeping here?" Enjolras asked as Éponine nestled her head on his chest. They were under the soft blanket but on top of the soft duvet and tangled in each other's arms, so they were essentially in a cocoon of softness. Her naked leg was wrapped around his hips.
"Yes," she answered immediately.
"Unless you want me to leave..." she said with much more uncertainty.
"No, no, God no... I literally have to keep reminding myself that this isn't a dream, that you are real and in my arms." He tightened his arms around her. "I'm just worried about what Grantaire would think if he was to walk in and see us naked in bed together."
"Oh, shit. Were we noisy downstairs?" she asked, her eyes full of concern.
"Well, we might have been... I went to check on him and it was extremely awkward," Enjolras admitted.
"Do you think I should go talk to him? Tell him what's going on?" she asked.
Enjolras cringed.
"Please try and tell the story so I don't sound like a lecherous bastard."
Éponine disentangled herself and started toward to door.
"Don't you want to put something on?" Enjolras sounded disbelieving as she walked nakedly to the door.
"I was a sex slave and he was my best friend. I don't have anything to hide."
With those words she disappeared down the hallway.
In her absence, Enjolras could reflect upon the unlikely best day of his life.
Éponine wasn't disgusted with him or his desires.
He wasn't a monster after all.
Éponine had sucked him off.
He had brought Éponine to orgasm.
It was definitely the start of something new.