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Tonight.
Enjolras would ask Grantaire to move in with him tonight.
It was all he had been able to think about all day, his excitement growing with every hour along with his resolution that yes of course this was the most logical course of action. He practically ran out the door of his last lecture and was in such a hurry to get to Grantaire’s place that he was heedless of the pouring autumn rain until it had soaked through his hoodie. He reached the apartment block in record time.
As usual, the door of Grantaire and Éponine’s flat was unlocked, so Enjolras entered without bothering to knock. He dropped his satchel and shook off his rain-soaked jacket, pausing a moment to make sure his laptop had escaped the downpour unscathed before opening his mouth to call out for Grantaire when he heard it-
It was a tiny noise, quiet and not made with any intent, certainly not contrived to capture attention in the way that it did. Enjolras however was attuned to soft, needy noises after a few months of dating Grantaire, and this was one that Enjolras knew well, one that sent a shiver of hot anticipation across his skin as he toed off his squelchy shoes and padded silently down the hall to the bedroom, all thoughts of serious discussions and domestic propositions flown from his mind.
The door was ajar and the noises became more pronounced, little huffs of breath punctuated by the occasional gasp or whine, soft, vulnerable noises made with no audience in mind, the hissed, “Fuck…” intended for no one in particular. Enjolras drank in the sounds, relishing the images his imagination supplied of their possible causes, but when a low groan of his own name broke through the heavy breathing the student couldn’t resist peeking around the door and finding out for certain what agonies of pleasure Grantaire was putting himself through in Enjolras’ name.
The sight that greeted him was possibly the most erotic thing he’d ever seen; his breath hitched in his chest and his right hand flew to his crotch to press some relief against the sudden bulge there.
Grantaire was on his knees on the threadbare mattress on the floor (oh dear god the bare tawdriness of the room of it made it somehow better!), his ass in the air and his shoulders supporting his weight as he slowly pushed two fingers into himself, pressing in as far as he could, the angle not allowing him to go as deeply as Enjolras knew his own fingers were capable of, deep enough to make Grantaire howl and writhe, make him come without once touching his cock…
Grantaire had his other hand around his cock, the strokes erratic as he focused more on opening himself up than jerking off. Then he shifted his knee (the movement achieving a slightly deeper penetration and making him mewl quietly), and Enjolras saw it; on the bed beside Grantaire, next to the open lube, rested a vibrator. It was a little smaller than Enjolras’ cock, slightly curved and a strikingly unnecessary shade of neon purple. Enjolras could suddenly think of nothing but Grantaire masturbating with a vibrator while moaning Enjolras’ name. The sight of Grantaire’s fingers disappearing into himself had been enough; the thought of Grantaire fucking himself with a fake cock while thinking about Enjolras was just too much.
And not enough.
“Grantaire.”
Damn. He had meant to sound gruff and firm but his voice had come out high pitched and breathy. Still, it was enough to make the artist yelp and topple over on the mattress, so Enjolras supposed that the goal of getting the other boy’s attention had been achieved.
“What are you doing?”
Grantaire was actually doing a number of things at once; embarrassedly withdrawing his fingers from his slick hole, blushing furiously, and stuttering incoherent vowel sounds being the top three.
“Enj- I, um, I… Fuck. Um, I was… Enjolras, have you ever heard of knocking?!”
Enjolras managed to take control of his voice and tutted sternly, “Don’t be facetious, of course I’ve heard of knocking. You haven’t answered my question, boy – what are you doing?”
The relief that spread through Grantaire the second he realised that Enjolras was aroused rather than horrified by his display was palpable. He was already half gone anyway and was easily pushed into submission by Enjolras’ tone.
“I was jerking off. Thinking about you, sir.”
“That’s not all you were doing, was it?” pressed Enjolras with a cold smile tugging the corners of his mouth as he approached the mattress but stayed standing, glaring imperiously down at his debauched submissive.
“No sir. I was… I was fingering myself open. Pretending it was you. I wanted to fuck myself and imagine that it was you fucking me.”
“Slut,” admonished Enjolras harshly, “Greedy slut, you always need something shoved up your ass don’t you? A cock, your own fingers, some plastic toy, you really don’t care do you? As long as something is keeping you nice and full. Anyone at all could have walked in and found you like this, but you probably wanted that didn’t you? You want everyone to know what a cockslut you are. Shall I tell all our friends how I found you? Desperate and open and gasping for someone – anyone – to fuck you?”
“Yes sir,” breathed Grantaire dazedly, “I mean, no sir. I mean… fuck. I’m yours, I only want you. Whatever you want.”
Enjolras couldn’t have hidden his own arousal if he tried; the front of his trousers were tented stiffly and Grantaire’s eyes kept flicking hungrily to the bulge there as he licked his lips wantonly.
“I’ll tell you what,” whispered Enjolras conspiratorially, “I won’t tell anyone, if you do one thing for me.”
“Anything,” agreed Grantaire immediately, eyes glazed and wanting as he stared up at Enjolras.
“Come here and suck me off, but- ” he raised a hand warningly as Grantaire surged eagerly forwards on his knees, “You’ll have to keep fingering yourself while you do it. I can’t have my filthy little boy left empty, can I? You’re not to come either, not until you’ve earned it.”
Grantaire shook his head and slid one hand obediently between his legs as the other scrabbled with the fastenings of Enjolras’ rain-damp trousers. The wetness of the material made it cling stubbornly, and Enjolras enjoyed watching Grantaire fight with the garment one handed, his face a picture of desperation as a tiny whine of frustration escaped his lips.
Finally he managed to wrestle the trousers down to Enjolras’ knees, and the blond was just about to make a snide remark about Grantaire’s greedy whore mouth when the artist swallowed him down entirely with no preamble, making the student almost choke on his words as he fought to control himself amidst Grantaire’s wet, expert sucking.
The angle was bad for Grantaire, probably only the tips of his fingers could reach inside himself like this, thought Enjolras abstractly as his mind ceded power to the needs and sensations of his body, but the student appreciated the effort that Grantaire was going to, knowing that the stuttering movements of his hand between his legs were in pure obedience to Enjolras’ whim.
“Grantaire- yes! Fuck, just…” Enjolras came embarrassingly quickly with a drawn out moan. Grantaire echoed him, groaning quietly around Enjolras’ cock as he gladly swallowed the blonde’s orgasm, his own cock still hard and his fingers still pressed as deeply inside himself as he could manage.
“Good boy,” soothed Enjolras as Grantaire released his spent cock with one final reverent kiss, “Such a good boy. Lie down for me, that’s it, on your stomach, good.”
Grantaire did as he was told while Enjolras pulled his trousers back up and refastened them. The student then lowered himself onto the mattress, straddling Grantaire’s thighs and covering him with his body, rubbing soft circles across his lower back before whispering hotly in his ear, “You’ve been so good for me, and good sluts get rewarded. Would you like to come?”
Grantaire whimpered into the sheets, the noise acquiescent and needy.
“Shh. I know. Now, would you like me to finish you off with my hand, or do you want me to fuck you with this toy? If you pick the toy I won’t be touching your cock.”
“Fuck me. Please… Want you inside me,” begged Grantaire.
“I’m a little incapacitated right now,” smiled Enjolras gently, his cock soft and spent in his trousers, “But if you want to be fucked I’m happy to use the vibrator. Do you think I can make you come quicker than you can do it yourself?”
“Yes, please, anything,” whined Grantaire, his hips beginning to rut against the mattress as he sought any kind of friction against his painfully hard cock.
A sharp slap to his ass stopped him immediately as Enjolras hissed, “Enough! If you want to be fucked you’ll be fucked, but you’re going to come for me untouched. Up on your hands and knees.”
Grantaire complied, his arms already shaking and his cock leaking messily. Without warning Enjolras pushed a finger into Grantaire’s already stretched ass, making the artist gasp and almost fall forwards.
“I thought you wanted this? If you want me to stop you know the word.”
Grantaire whimpered desperately and pushed himself back onto Enjolras’ hand, “No, please! Don’t stop! I just- oh god Enj, more, please…”
Enjolras complied, not even needing to spread his hand with lube before pushing a second finger roughly in to join the first.
“Filthy boy,” he growled fondly, “So open for me… Do you do this every time? Fuck yourself with enough lube to imagine that I’ve just come inside your poor, abused ass?”
“Yes,” mewled Grantaire, shamelessly pushing himself back onto Enjolras’ hand as the student added a third finger, “God yes.”
Enjolras twisted his fingers experimentally and found that bundle of nerves that could reduce Grantaire to an incoherent mess, stroking it firmly every couple of thrusts until Grantaire’s stumbling words of encouragement had dissolved into whimpers and moans.
Enjolras found himself entranced by the sight beneath him, Grantaire’s tattooed back arched and his head bowed, his arms tense as he struggled to keep himself upright, the slight sheen of sweat on his skin, the way his body just welcomed Enjolras’ intruding fingers, grasped at him as he withdrew each time and tightened around him when he thrust back in… It was intoxicating, and Enjolras was pretty sure that had he not just come a moment before he would be achingly close just from the sight of Grantaire allowing himself to be slowly taken apart like this.
“Christ, Enj,” Grantaire moaned, “How sure are you that you don’t want to fuck me? Because I am – fuck! – I am so sure that I want you to fuck me right now!”
Oh god how Enjolras wanted to, but, “Rules are rules, you’d do best to learn that before I punish you properly. I’m not going to be fucking you when Éponine is due home any minute. I will however take care of you, my poor desperate boy.”
“No, but- I mean it,” babbled Grantaire as he pushed back onto Enjolras’ fingers with a low moan, “’Ponine won’t be home for at least twenty minutes and I’m hardly going to last that long with you inside me, please just- ”
“Stop talking,” warned Enjolras, pressing firmly against Grantaire’s prostate and turning his words into a kind of strangled yelp.
“Fucking hell, sir,” keened Grantaire as Enjolras withdrew his fingers entirely, “I respectfully request that you shove your cock in me right now! It’s only fair, seeing as- ”
But this time Enjolras succeeded in shutting Grantaire up by dragging the flat of his tongue down the cleft of his ass and over his stretched entrance, licking lazy circles around his hole before pressing his tongue firmly inside while Grantaire remained blessedly silent, but for one tiny whimper and the rustle of the bed sheets that he clutched white-knuckled.
After a moment the artist gritted out, “You- ”
“Shh,” breathed Enjolras against his wet hole, making his whole body go momentarily rigid.
“You- ”
“I am going to put a gag on you in a minute if you don’t shut up, and I’ll leave you here unsatisfied. Now shut your filthy mouth and turn over.”
“My filthy mouth,” Grantaire muttered as he complied, earning himself another harsh slap on the inner thigh as he lay face up on the bed with Enjolras looming over him.
Enjolras picked up the vibrator as he ordered, “Hands crossed above your head. The second you try to touch yourself I’ll stop.”
Grantaire was wet enough already that the lube he slicked over the toy was unnecessary, but Enjolras was more than aware that there was good hurting and bad hurting, and while the smack he administered to Grantaire’s thigh to make the artist stop whining was a good kind of hurt, being fucked with a vibrating toy and not enough lube would probably be a bad kind of hurt. Over-correcting in situations like this was, in Enjolras’ view, one of his more forgivable faults.
“Is this what the little slut needs?” crooned Enjolras as he slid the shaft into Grantaire with agonising slowness, the artist’s mouth open in a silent gasp and his eyes squeezed tightly shut in a grimace that spoke of both pleasure and pain, “Next time you’re so desperate to have something inside you remember that I’ll be the one who gives it to you. You’re mine and your ass belongs to me, understand?”
Grantaire was only able to answer with a yelp as Enjolras turned the vibration on unexpectedly and began fucking him hard and fast, thrusting the toy in deeply as Grantaire’s yelp became a desperate groan, trying to find the spot that would make him come.
“Please… more…” shuddered Grantaire, his spine arching off the bed as he canted his hips up into the vibrator, “Faster…”
Enjolras placed a firm hand over Grantaire’s hip to stop his movements but complied with the artist’s request. A moment later he was rewarded with a yell as he found that sweet spot inside his boyfriend. Smirking, his own cock feebly trying to stir as Grantaire’s twitched and leaked, Enjolras pounded into Grantaire again and again with the buzzing toy, satisfied he had found the right angle when Grantaire shouted at last, “Fuck! Enj, fuck!” and came messily across his own stomach and the bed sheets.
“Good boy,” soothed Enjolras as the last tremors of orgasm rolled through Grantaire. When the artist seemed to be trembling from exhaustion rather than arousal Enjolras switched off the vibrator and carefully pulled it out, chuckling at the half-hearted noise of protest that Grantaire grunted into the mattress.
“Such a good little slut for me,” reiterated Enjolras, gently curling himself around the naked other, “You took that so well, I’m so proud of you. I loved watching you like that, you’re the perfect bottom, my good boy.”
“Want you next time,” mumbled Grantaire sleepily, his face obscured by the pillow.
“Next time,” agreed Enjolras, quietly reaching into his pocket to set the alarm on his iphone for two hours’ time; he was well aware that they had time for a quick nap before Éponine got home from work, and his proposition could wait until Grantaire was in a more focussed frame of mind.