One two three. One two three. Duck. Weave. Jab jab jab, one two three. Swing. Duck. One two three. Wham!

'Okay that's enough. You're good to go' Feuilly brought Grantaire into a one armed hug, holding him tightly before releasing him and bending down to look straight into Grantaire's eyes.

'Now listen to me' the Irish coach started, 'I don't know what's going on in that head of yours R, but listen. You can achieve anything. You're proper good, you hear me?' Grantaire mutely nodded in response. 'You are going to go out there and win this.'

And when Grantaire's eyes widened Feuilly, grasped the back of his neck and forced him to stare back, meeting him on the level.

'You are. You are going to win… Now get going.'

Feuilly pushed him away, Grantaire stumbled back, then, lifting his head high, he walked through the door and into the arena.

He didn't hear the noise from the crowd, he didn't see the lights flash, he didn't see the giant screens which were showing his face. He only saw the ring, right in the middle, where everything would be decided.

He slipped under the railings of the ring and bounced from side to side on his toes. He was pumped; ready to go. He had never felt like this before, he was so ready for this, there was something inside him a feeling that he couldn't lose. Was it confidence? Grantaire didn't know.

Feuilly strapped on his gloves for him, he patted them together a couple of times, trying to calm himself down, get himself in the zone. He found it surprisingly easily, that space in his head where everything was calm, was analytical, searching for weaknesses, calculating moves and counter moves. Usually getting in the zone was tricky and that's why he didn't always start fights well, he was still trying to get his mind in order. However, he was soon in deep concentration. The ref signalled him to move forward and he eyed his opponent up; a boxer from Northern Ireland- tough competition.

And then the ref said 'Box!'

Grantaire kept light on his toes, he ducked and dodged the Northern Irishman's swings and jabbed a quick one, two, three to his upper torso. It was a good start and Grantaire felt on a roll; soon he was getting in hits everywhere, his opponent barely putting up any resistance.

Grantaire felt like laughing, this was easy. He felt high and the bell dinged far, far, too soon; signalling the end of round one.

He sat down and Feuilly climbed into the ring. He sprayed water on Grantaire's face, it felt like heaven.

'You've got him on the back foot' Feuilly was saying, 'Just keep the intensity up, don't let up on the pressure, keep hammering him, pen him in, don't give him room to get to you. Just keep you're left hand up though, he'll be looking to strike you there in the head; it's a weak spot' Feuilly ran fingers over the gauze covered stiches above Grantaire's left eye. It seemed to be holding. Grantaire hardly felt it anymore; the medics kept spraying it with anaesthetic so it wasn't distracting him. It didn't impede him in anyway; apart from keeping him from raising a sarcastic eyebrow but, really, that was a small price to pay for a punch narrowly missing his eyeball.

'The crowd is getting rowdy, they want a show and they're getting it'

Grantaire made to look into the throng gathered around the ring, but Feuilly grabbed his chin and forced his head straight, 'Don't look!' he hissed, 'I'm only telling you so you don't get distracted, shut them out, R, you hear me, you don't hear them.'

Grantaire nodded. The break was over and round two was about to start. It was just him and the other guy.

Round two and O'Connell put up a bit more of a fight this time, but it was easy for Grantaire to stop the attack in its tracks. He shut his opponent down quickly, not giving him any room to counter. Somehow, some force was enabling his punches to make contact, his feet moved quickly and lightly. His arms felt light- but light in that same way titanium was light. Every time his fist made an impact it was on target, it was clean and it was one heck of a punch. At one point the ref interrupted one of Grantaire's attacks to check that his opponent was alright. The Northern Irishman looked like he needed the breather, but Grantaire didn't feel tired at all. He felt wired.

He didn't question it when the bell signalled end of round two. Feuilly gave him a drink and poured the rest over Grantaire's head. It was glorious.

Feuilly said only five words to him.

'Son, go and finish it.'

Grantaire was unassailable. He fought with a controlled ferocity that simply outclassed his opponent. He boxed.

The bell went.

Grantaire experienced a weird sensation; it was as if someone had suddenly uncovered his ears and the wave of pure sound that crashed over him brought him to his knees. It was deafening; a roar of 10,000 people all cheering for him. It was overwhelming.

Grantaire felt hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He couldn't take it in. What had just happened?

A hand was held out, it was O'Connell, he grabbed Grantaire's wrists and hauled him up, giving him a quick hug as he then retreated to his corner.

Grantaire was now standing but his head was still bowed. He raised it up slowly, taking in the entirety of the crowd. Everyone was on their feet, cheering and clapping for him, a sea of St. George's flags waving back and forth in celebration.

The ref was then talking to Grantaire; he needed to take off his gloves. He removed them and tossed them to the ground and the ref then grasped his right hand along with O'Connell's left. A bit of tradition then, to formally acknowledge the winner. As Grantaire's right arm was hauled into the air the crowd erupted thunderous again.

A laugh burst from his chest. His mouth widened and he was smiling and laughing. He turned, looking for Feuilly. He found his trainer's face, Feuilly was red faced and crying as he clapped his hands together loudly. Grantaire threw himself into his mentor's arms and Feuilly drew him into an intense hug.

'You little shit!' he was crying, 'You won, you won, you won!'

'Fucking hell' Grantaire rasped, 'I've got a medal!'

'Gold one as well, you tosspot' said Feuilly clapping him on the back.

'Fucking hell' repeated Grantaire.

'Now get up on that podium son' ordered Grantaire's mentor.

Standing on the podium, Jerusalem ringing out and the English flag being raised in the air made Grantaire feel patriotic. He'd never been one for King and country and all that, but, hey when the situation demands…Grantaire was grateful for this country, it was where he'd been born. Where he lived, it was his and he belonged to it in turn. The crowd certainly thought so. They hadn't shut up all evening, still cheering and clapping for him. It was enough to make him feel loved.

Speaking of…..

Grantaire had had to put a certain someone out of his mind. He couldn't afford to be distracted for the match. But instead of it being a painful ache, like a migraine always pressing at your temples no matter what drugs you take, how it had been when he'd thought Enjolras hated him. Instead he felt a fluttering feeling inside him, like a small flame keeping him warm, it was comforting, uplifting. Grantaire had no doubt that it had contributed to his performance tonight; his feet had practically skimmed the floor surface, making him light, effortless. Grantaire grinned, maybe not as elegant as Apollo, but graceful in his own boxer's way.

Grantaire hadn't been able to spot Enjolras and the others in the crowd, the lights were shining down too bright to make out anything other than smudges of faces. As the national anthem came to a flourishing end, Grantaire shook the hands of his fellow medallists, and then invited them up to the top step to pose for photos for the press. Oh god, there were going to be more interviews weren't there? That BBC one had been a nightmare, they'd done something to his face and hair; he hadn't liked it.

There was only a quick interview with Sky Sports where he admitted that he couldn't really remember much of the fight and couldn't believe he'd actually won before Feuilly ushered him out of the arena. The crowd was still cheering.

Once they were back in the training rooms Grantaire looked down at the gold medallion hanging around his neck. It was heavy.

The medics gave him a quick once over and he quickly went into the toilet to piss in a pot for the post match drugs test.

'Brill' said the medic putting the sample in his case, 'Now, I don't want to give you too many painkillers now but here's this for your ribs. They're okay still strapped for now, but I want no strenuous exercises for the next couple of days. Have some time off, you've earned it.'

'Thanks' smiled Grantaire.

'Ah, there's no such thing as time off boy' interjected Feuilly.

'Oh shut up Coach' said Bahorel walking past, 'Mate come here' and he opened his arms wide for a hug. Grantaire hugged him tightly back.

'Congrats you wimp' said Bahorel.

'Hope you lose dickhead' replied Grantaire as Bahorel was backed towards the doors to the arena.

'You know I won't' his sparring partner called back, before striding into the arena like the motherfucker he was. Feuilly made to go after him but eyed Grantaire for a moment 'I suppose it's too much to hope that you're gonna go back to your room now and sleep like a good boy?'

'Feuilly, who do you think I am?' asked Grantaire grinning.

'A fucking gold medallist that's what' replied Feuilly, 'And you're about the only person who I know won't let that go to their head, God only knows you need some proof of what you're capable of. You never believed in yourself'

'You always believed in me' said Grantaire

'Grantaire, if my belief was strong enough you'd have sailed through this competition, you 'd be world champion already, cos that's what you're capable of, but no, I think you've found someone else who believes in you and that might just be enough to convince you that you're worth something…'

'Um…what?'

'Son, I was not born yesterday, necking in the back of the arena is not exactly a new one for me.'

'Oh shit.'

'Just don't do it on my time, alright?' Feuilly asked gruffly.

'Okay'

'Now go an celebrate like the champion you are'

'I'm really not-'

'-Son, just… just don't' Feuilly interrupted '…. you were magnificent tonight. I'm so proud of you'

Grantaire's eyes started pricking, 'Thanks Feuilly' he said thickly.

'Don't stay up to late' Feuilly warned, giving him a small glare before heading back into the arena to cement his status as the coach of boxing champions.

Grantaire opened the training room door to find himself crushed by a Courfeyrac.

'Oooof Jesus Christ!' he swore, almost collapsing under the weight.

'Courf! Watch out! He's still got damaged ribs!' cried Enjolras, tugging his teammate off Grantaire.

'Thanks Apollo' said Grantaire, straightening up and wincing a little. He caught Enjolras's eye briefly before he was distracted by Courfeyrac gushing 'Oh R! You were amazing!'

'Oh...thanks'

'You were resplendent' added Combeferre, coming from behind Enjolras to stand in the corridor at the back of the SECC precinct.

'Yeah…' said Grantaire nervously, raking a hand through his hair. He really wasn't sure what to do now. What did you do once you'd won? Maybe he should ask Enjolras seeing as he'd won like a gazillion medals. And, yeah, Enjolras was standing right there and God, what should he do, should he say hi? Were they friends now? Were they going out? He hadn't seen him since the gymnast had been trying to get his hand down Grantaire's shorts and oh fuck, his cock twitched at the thought. He glanced towards where the tall blond was standing.

'Um…hi' he said.

Enjolras just bent down and kissed Grantaire full on the mouth.

'You were brilliant' he said pulling away after a moment.

And Grantaire was sure he'd died and gone to heaven. Greek gods didn't just go around kissing people in random corridors and in front of their teammates. Speaking of teammates….Courfeyrac had squealed and Combeferre just shook his head grinning.

'About time'

'Shut up' said Grantaire, grinning to himself.

'Are you coming to celebrate with us? said Courfeyrac, 'After Bahorel's fight I mean'

'Yeah, he's out there right now, why aren't you watching him?'

'We wanted to see you' said Combeferre over the top of Courfeyrac swearing, 'OH SHIT, why didn't you tell me he was next!?'

'I just did' said Grantaire, but Courfeyrac was already sprinting down the corridor heading back into the arena.

'Are you coming out?' asked Combeferre.

'I…don't really know…I mean...I'm kinda tired, besides I'm on quite heavy meds, might not be the best thing…' it as strange, Grantaire was usually the first to want to go out, to find the best bars and pubs, but after this evening, he just felt worn down and weary.

'Fair enough, alright then, I'll head back in and watch Bahorel with Courfeyrac, you coming Enjolras?' asked Combeferre.

'Um…no…I think I'll walk Grantaire back' replied Enjolras.

'You don't have to do that' Grantaire protested

'I want to,' came the insistent reply.

'Okay, I'll see you later then' said Combeferre with a smile and a wave before he walked back into the arena.

'You ready to go?' said Enjolras, and Grantaire was suddenly hit with such a strong deja-vu, only it was different this time because Enjolras's hand had slipped into his and he was leading him away.

They walked in silence, their only communication being their fingers entwined together and Enjolras's thumb rubbing over the back of Grantaire's hand. It was doing strange things to him and he really couldn't think of anything else apart from how good that little movement felt.

Reaching the flat which Grantaire shared with Bahorel, they paused in front of the door. Grantaire reluctantly let go of Enjolras's hand to find his key to open the door. He hesitated, turning to look back at Enjolras, standing on the porch looking like he didn't belong in the mortal realm.

'Do you um..' Grantaire cleared his throat, 'Do you want to come in?' his heart was pounding in his chest, he prayed Enjolras would understand what he meant.

Enjolras frowned 'If you're really tired Grantaire, I should probably leave you to get some rest...'

'I'm fine Apollo, really, I just said that to get rid of Combeferre, I'd really like you to come in.' he said the last part of the sentence quietly, praying, hoping….

'I…um... yes'

Grantaire smiled. He opened the door and stepped into the flat's little kitchen. Enjolras followed, closing the door behind him. Grantaire dropped his bag on the floor and turned around to face Enjolras. Enjolras, who was suddenly there, crowding his space, a head taller than him. Grantaire swallowed, the things he does to me…

'Can I kiss you?' Enjolras whispered.

'Christ, yes, you never have to ask Ap-' but Grantaire's sentence was cut off as Enjolras's lips came crashing down on his. And it was perfect, it was intense, passionate and …perfect.

Grantaire pushed Enjolras's lips open and slipped his tongue into his mouth. His hands threaded in the blond's hair, tugging his head down, closer to him, changing the angle so he could properly explore the inside of Enjolras's mouth. And fuck, Enjolras was moaning and the noise caused a jolt to run down his spine to his groin. And he was getting hard embarrassingly quickly, but he couldn't care, he was kissing Enjolras.

And it had only been a fucking week.

Admittedly it had been a very eventful week but seriously, a week?

But then, who cares? thought Grantaire, I'm kissing Enjolras!

The kiss was getting messy, Enjolras was pushing him backwards, backing him up against the counter, and god, they could fuck on the countertop. A knee slipped in between his legs forcing them apart and Enjolras's thigh was brushing his erection and Grantaire couldn't stop himself grinding down on it just a little.

His breath was coming in pants as he broke away from the kiss to take in much needed oxygen, but Enjolras just moved onto open mouthed kissing on his jaw and no, he needed that mouth on back his. His hands, one of which had dropped from Enjolras's hair to grasp his shoulders moved up to bring his face back into alignment so Grantaire could take Enjolras's bottom lip between his own, sucking, then nibbling on it and the groan it caused from Enjolras made Grantaire's knees buckle and then his crotch was in contact with Enjolras's thigh and the friction was so fucking good.

The kissing continued, Enjolras reciprocating Grantaire's actions, his tongue sliding into the boxer's mouth and it felt so good that it caused Grantaire to moan loud and long.

Enjolras broke away, short of breath he said 'I…we…fuck…' and Enjolras didn't really swear, and god that was a turn on, 'can we continue this in a bedroom, because, oh god, I might have to get you to fuck me on the counter.'

Jesus Christ

'Yes, yes' said Grantaire hoarsely, 'bed, you, me, now' and he lightly pushed Enjolras off him disentangling their legs as he took his arm and led him into his room. It was fairly dark inside, the sun was beginning to set, so Grantaire moved to turn on the bedside light and close the curtains. Behind him, Enjolras closed the door and then the gymnast was on him, tugging at his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders.

'Are we… are we really doing this?' Grantaire asked not quite believing what was happening.

'Yes' Enjolras breathed, coming in so close he could see each one of the blond eyelashes framing those impossibly blue eyes.

'Okay, that's good, that's fine, um…okay' and God why was he nervous?

'I mean, only if you want to' said Enjolras backtracking, sensing something.

'I want to' Grantaire almost whimpered, 'I…just…do you want to?'

Enjolras rolled his eyes, 'Grantaire, I like you very much, I'm very very attracted to you and I'd like us to have sex' he said matter-of-factly

'It's just, have you ever had sex?'

Enjolras now looked a little less sure, 'It depends on what you define as sex' he said slowly.

'Handjobs?'

'Yes'

'Blowjobs?'

'Yes….. but nothing really more than that'

'Okay'

'Okay?' Enjolras seemed nervous now, where before he hadn't, still Grantaire was glad they were having this conversation. 'Yes, okay, Enjolras that's fine, I don't mind, I just want to know if it's your first time then we just need to go a bit slower that's all.'

'You don't mind?'

'Why would I mind?'

'I don't know, you seem very experienced'

Grantaire snorted, 'Hardly, you don't get much spare time when you're an athlete and besides, how many openly gay boxers do you know?'

'But still, you've…fucked.'

'Yeah, but I haven't fucked you.' he replied and it was such a stupid reply it made Enjolras laugh and lean in to kiss him again.

They soon got caught up in the moment again only now there was much more of a purpose; it was building up to something. Between them they soon divested Enjolras of his jacket and shirt, leaving him topless and yes, his abs were spectacular. Grantaire gently backed him towards the bed, encouraging him to lie down because holy shit he needed to get his mouth on that chest.

Enjolras's torso was almost completely hairless, which wasn't too much of a surprise because he looked like he didn't even need to shave he was that blonde and boy-faced. As Grantaire straddled the athlete lying on the covers beneath him and leaned down to kiss him, the gold medal which was still around his neck swung forward and hit Enjolras in the chest.

'Ow!'

'Oh shit! Sorry! I forgot about that!'

'How could you forget you had a gold medal around your neck?!'

'Well you didn't notice either'

'You were distracting me!'

'Yes, yes I was'

'Don't be such a smug bastard' complained Enjolras.

'Sorry' grinned Grantaire, he leant back up and made to take the medal off, but Enjolras sat up and put his hands out to stop him.

'No, leave it.'

'What?'

'Leave it on, I like it.'

'You kinky son-of-a-bitch' exclaimed Grantaire, but he was shut up by Enjolras grasping the gold medallion and tugging it forwards so he could kiss him.

Running his hands along Enjolras's bare and very toned shoulders was heaven, pure heaven. He could feel the muscles swell and contract as Enjolras put his arms around Grantaire and brought him flush against his chest. He was still straddling the gymnast and took the opportunity to grind down a little and to his joy he could feel Enjolras's hardness below him, he ground down a little harder and Enjolras growled.

'Shirt. Off. Now.' he said, tugging at the hem of the boxer's top, somehow managing to take it off without strangling Grantaire with the medal still around his neck. Once the fabric was over Grantaire's head he made to lean back in to capture Enjolras's mouth with his own. But a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

'Jesus Grantaire, how are you even breathing?' Enjolras swore, looking down to survey Grantaire's chest. He glanced down to see what the gymnast was looking at. There was bright blue strapping all around his torso, keeping his ribs stable. Peeking out of the bindings was a mosaic of bruising, mottled black, purple and green. It did look pretty-not-good and it did hurt like a bitch, but thanks to the painkillers from the medic earlier, Grantaire couldn't really feel much apart from a general soreness which always followed a tournament or fight.

'It's fine' he shrugged.

'No it's not' Enjolras retorted, 'Should you even be out of bed right now?'

'Well I am sort of on my bed' Grantaire smirked

'Don't be a twat' said Enjolras sharply, 'You should be resting Grantaire, what did the medics say?'

'Something about no more fighting or strenuous exercise' Grantaire struggled to recall, it was difficult with Enjolras's erection pressing into his thigh.

'Okay, look' said Enjolras pinching the bridge of his nose, 'Maybe we should call it a night'

'What? No!' protested Grantaire

'Yes! Look Grantaire you're not in any condition to… to be having sex right now'

'Oh come on!'

'I don't want to hurt you, or for you to hurt yourself' said Enjolras.

'I can't feel a thing! I'm all drugged up!' cried Grantaire trying to calm Enjolras down.

'Are you even able to give consent right now?' asked Enjolras horrified, okay so that backfired…..

'Yes' he said as calmly as possible, 'Enjolras, listen to me, look at me!' he commanded and his eyes were met with Enjolras's blue ones. 'Enjolras I'm fine, seriously I am fine, I am a bit achey, but I am fine. I'm good, I want to have sex with you.'

'But you can't!' Enjolras objected.

Grantaire put his hands out to grasp Enjolras's bringing them to his chest.

'I can' he said, sure of himself and looking into the gymnast's eyes. 'Believe me, I am fine and I can, besides', he said, a mischievous grin coming to his face, 'It depends on what you define as sex…'

He really hoped Enjolras would get his meaning.

Luckily, Enjolras wasn't just all beauty and no brains; he gasped and kissed Grantaire hard on the mouth, 'If you're sure?'

'Yes!' laughed Grantaire

'Fuck, please, please let me blow you' Enjolras practically begged and Jesus Christ, Grantaire's cock which had kind of been forgotten about now regained full hardness and it was almost painful how much he wanted that.

'Fuck yes' he replied kissing Enjolras back, moaning into it, showing the other man how much he craved it.

They changed positions, Enjolras treating Grantaire more carefully, but thankfully no longer wanting to end the evening early. He carefully leant over the boxer, trailing light caresses along his sides, avoiding as much of the bruising as possible. Grantaire was glad it wasn't a complete turn-off, his chest did normally look a lot better, but his muscles and flat stomach were mostly hidden by strapping so he was glad Enjolras still seemed attracted to him. Light fingers continued to trace over him and it wouldn't normally be so arousing for Grantaire, he was more of a quick and hard sort of guy but maybe it was because it was Enjolras, but the fluttering touches were setting him on fire. Fingers reached out and arranged the medal hanging from Grantaire's neck so that the ribbon was lying flat against his skin and the medal was sitting on the middle of his chest. And it wasn't anything Grantaire had ever thought about before, but hey, if Enjolras liked it, he could get on board with it.

Then those same fingers were undoing the string holding up his shorts and slipping the material down his legs. Grantaire had been staring up at the ceiling but now he tilted his head up and looked down to see Enjolras divesting himself of his tracksuit bottoms and underwear and then he was stroking Grantaire's cock through his boxers, whilst entirely naked.

Grantaire thumped his head back on the pillow, it was too much! But hang on; now he couldn't see Enjolras, so he forced himself to look down again, okay he was never looking away again. Enjolras was sat straddling his thighs, cock jutting upright proudly, but his gaze was trained on the bulge underneath Grantaire's boxers. He stroked Grantaire's cock again and oh god there was a damp patch spreading on the material because of the pre-come leaking from the tip.

Grantaire whimpered, 'Enjolras….please...'

It caused the gymnast to glance up, Grantaire didn't want to imagine what he looked like but it seemed to please Enjolras who smiled and then moved up to kiss Grantaire again before moving another pillow under his head, so he wouldn't give himself neck strain.

'Are you comfortable?' he asked sweetly, as if they both weren't naked, or nearly naked and he wasn't about to give Grantaire a blow-job.

'I'm fine' Grantaire said through gritted teeth as his stomach muscles rippled with desire.

'I have to ask…' paused Enjolras, 'Are you clean?'

It took Grantaire a moment to realise what Enjolras was talking about but then 'Yes' he replied 'Or at least I was, day before yesterday.' The best thing about post-match drugs tests was that they tested for everything. 'You?' he asked in turn, Enjolras replied in the affirmative.

'Do you want a condom?' he asked, reaching out an arm for his bedside cabinet.

Enjolras shook his head and then kissed him again in reply before moved down so his head was between Grantaire's legs.

'I'm good' he said.

Grantaire breathed in deeply 'Oh God' he whined.

Enjolras was pressing open mouth kisses along his thighs whilst his fingers delicately trailed through his pubic hair, swirling around the base of his cock without actually touching it.

'Oh fuck…..fuck…stop being a fucking tease' Grantaire begged, but although Enjolras didn't respond outloud, Grantaire could feel him fucking smile against the crease where his inner thigh met his groin.

Jesus fuck.

Enjolras nosed against the base of his cock and the tiniest of touches was enough to reduce Grantaire to a panting, incoherent mess. His skin was burning up, heat was pooling in his lower abdomen, his hands were gripping the bed sheets tightly because he didn't know what else to do with them and his feet were struggling to find a purchase on the surface of the bed. Enjolras's wicked fingers were still stroking up and down his inner thighs which rose and fell off the bed as he tried to simultaneously escape and seek out the caresses.

'Please, please Enjolras…..just…fuck' he managed to get out in between breaths and god his chest was tight, but there was no way he was telling the gymnast now, not when he was this close.

Then Enjolras suddenly licked a hot, wet stripe up from the base of his cock to the head causing Grantaire's hips to buck violently off the bed. He hissed in response, words failing him. Enjolras shifted forward a bit so he could brace his forearms on Grantaire's hips, forcing him into place; making him stay still. He then proceeded to lap at the head of Grantaire's cock, swiping up the precome and swirling a tongue under his foreskin. The weight forcing his hips down meant that Grantaire couldn't try and seek release by thrusting upwards, he was trapped and the punishment Enjolras was dealing out was excruciatingly arousing.

Enjolras then took the tip into his mouth ever so slightly and sucked and the heat and sensation was fucking glorious.

Grantaire keened.

His hands scrabbled on the sheets, gripping so tightly it was likely he'd rip them.

Enjolras released the head of his cock and then the bastard blew ever so softly cold air onto the red, wet, skin.

'Oh you….fucking...wanker' Grantaire cried, throwing his head back onto the pillow in frustration.

'Good?' murmured Enjolras in a light tone, like he was amused.

'Where the fuck did you learn all of this?'

'Oh here and there…'

'Jesus fuck'

'Mmmm, enough talking I think' said Enjolras as he returned to his earlier ministrations with vigour.

He swallowed the head of Grantaire down, and then continued down taking in an impressive amount. After a pause he then he hollowed out his cheeks and rose back up. And it was almost enough to make Grantaire come then and there.

'Mmmm, really….fuck…not going to… last long' he gasped.

'Good' came the reply as Enjolras released his cock which was now shining in a coat of his saliva, 'Now shush' and God, was Enjolras bossy in bed.

Grantaire shivered, he quite liked it. Who knew?

Enjolras now started up a slow sort of rhythm, head bobbing up and down between Grantaire's legs and it was a good thing his weight was pressing down on Grantaire's hips because the boxer had lost any sort of control he had and kept trying to thrust upwards and down Enjolras's throat and he really didn't want to hurt the gymnast.

Enjolras was fast on the downward stroke but rose up the length of him with agonizing slowness, the suction caused by his cheeks creating the most glorious sensations along Grantaire's cock. This wasn't just a blowjob; this was a fucking stupendous blowjob. Enjolras was a secret master of giving head and fuck Grantaire was in such a good place right now.

He could feel his orgasm building somewhere low down in his stomach, gathering pace as all the nerves along his arms, chest and legs seemed to converge on this one point currently deep in Enjolras's fucking magnificent mouth.

He tried to warn Enjolras but his own mouth wasn't working, he could only breathe in quick quiet gasps, all sound escaping him. The only thing he could do was thread his hands into Enjolras's hair and try and tug gently, letting him know that he was about to come. Enjolras didn't seem to get the message though so Grantaire, with a lot of effort managed to finally pant desperately 'Enjolras…I'm…really, really...close'

Enjolras then seemed to understand and with a final swirl of the tongue rose up off Grantaire's cock before pumping it quickly a couple of times with his hand.

And that's when Grantaire's orgasm hit him like comet. He closed his eyes and let out a groan as he saw stars behind his eyelids. His body felt like it was floating as his climax washed over him, he could distantly feel hot splashes of come land on his chest as his cock throbbed and pulsed with his release. His whole body thrummed with the force of his orgasm it was a deep tingling that he felt all the way into his bones and he knew without a doubt that it was the best one of his life.

It took a little while before he felt himself returning to the mortal world. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking a little bit as his eyes grew accustomed to the semi-darkness and he had to take in what he could see before him.

It was possibly the best thing he'd ever seen and if he hadn't just already come it would definitely be enough to push him over the edge. It was Enjolras.

Enjolras was kneeling up, his thighs as far apart as they could go in between Grantaire's bent legs. He had one hand braced on Grantaire's upturned knee as the other was pumping vigorously around his cock. His head was bent over, eyes were closed and Grantaire could see the gymnast's abs ripple with each thrum of desire he was feeling.

There was a god masturbating over him.

Jesus fucking Christ.

'Enjolras' Grantaire whispered, but it was loud enough for the other to hear.

The golden head looked up and the blue eyes met green before shuttering closed as Enjolras reached orgasm from looking into his eyes.

Hot stripes of the gymnast's come splattered Grantaire's torso, his hand continued to encircle his cock as he drove every last drop of sensation from it. His face was a wonder, his mouth forming an O as he gasped as his release tore through his body. It was the most pornographic thing Grantaire had ever seen. And it was because of me.

As the last spurt of come came from his softening cock Enjolras collapsed onto all fours above Grantaire. He was panting, his eyes still closed.

But then he sat back on his haunches looking at Grantaire spread before him.

Grantaire held his gaze, trying to work out what was in the gymnast's head, but there was no way he could have predicted what Enjolras did next.

He trailed a hand up Grantaire's abdomen, causing the muscles to clench in reaction causing a small wave of pleasure to roll through him.

'Mmmmm' Grantaire said in response, not really capable of making words still.

The Enjolras's fingers were dipping into the mess of come on his torso and swirling the streaks together mixing both their releases, and fuck that is so hot, why is that so hot?

Maybe it was the lazy way Enjolras was doing it, but it was also purposeful. The blond's gaze was trained on his fingers, now coated with his and Grantaire's come and then he-

Jesus Christ, no.

He was painting the come onto Grantaire's gold medal.

Grantaire stared in horror, as Enjolras's sinful fingers left streaks of mixed come on the medallion still lying on Grantaire's bruised and strapped-together chest.

Grantaire glanced up to see Enjolras's face, they gymnast was concentrating on what his fingers were doing, he had quite a nonchalant air, as if he really didn't care that it was a fucking gold medal what I just won.

'Oi' Grantaire protested quite half-heartedly, because really, he'd just had the best orgasm of his life thanks to this man, so really who was he to tell him off?

'Sorry' said Enjolras in a tone which said he really wasn't sorry.

'That's my medal, you bastard, go deface you own, God knows you've got enough of them'

'Sorry' said Enjolras again, but this time with a little smile, 'It's a nice medal'

'Well not any more it isn't' pointed out Grantaire looking down to see drying white streaks all over the gold.

'Well you'll just have to go and get some more then won't you?' said Enjolras, and Grantaire wasn't quite sure what to make of this post-coital, blissed out Enjolras.

'Maybe I will' he replied wryly.

'I really like you' blurted out Enjolras, his eyes wide as they met Grantaire's.

Grantaire chuckled and reached out his hands to trail down Enjolras's unbelievably good-looking arm muscles before finding his hands and intertwining them.

'I really like you too' he said in return.

They stayed like that for a little while longer until their breathing returned to normal and Grantaire's ribs stopped aching. Then Grantaire rose and padded to the bathroom to get a washcloth and clean them both up- although it was mostly him. He managed to get most of the come off the front of the medal but some of it had got on the ribbon and Grantaire knew that would be trickier to get out.

'You've properly desecrated this you know' he complained to Enjolras.

'Oh shush' said the gymnast from where he was tucked up under Grantaire's sheets, 'Just come to bed.'

'I will in a minute, give me a moment…Jesus Christ there's come all over this you absolute heathen' said Grantaire disgruntled, 'That was beyond a doubt the dirtiest thing I've ever seen let alone participated in.'

Enjolras just made a sleepy, grumpy noise from under the covers; he seemed to have turned into a very pliant, needy sort of person and he grabbed onto Grantaire as he tried to slide under the covers and join him.

'Hey! Hey!' he cried, 'Let me get settled, Christ you're clingy'

Enjolras just snuggled up to Grantaire, wrapping his legs around the boxer's under the covers and lacing his finger's in Grantaire's hand. With his free hand Grantaire stroked the top of Enjolras's head, winding the curls around his fingers.

Grantaire tried to process everything which had happened in the past week. From meeting Enjolras, to challenging him. From seeing him the first time to seeing him the last time. From his first boxing match to the last. From nothing, to a gold medal. A medal that was now sitting on his chest of drawers, the gold reflecting orange from the streetlamps outside.

Grantaire tried to reflect on the week but it was really all a bit too much for him. He just decided to get some sleep and try and sort out his new life in the morning.

His new life with Enjolras, his new life as a Gold Medallist, Commonwealth Champion, his new friends and his oldest one, and his beloved mentor too.

Yeah, let's wait until tomorrow.