FIC: Musings in the Dark
Title: Musings in the Dark
Author:
1000excuses
Fandom: Les Miserables
Rating: R
Characters/pairings: Enjolras, Grantaire
Summary:
Written as a response to this prompt on the kink meme: "Grantaire fantasizing about having sex with Enjolras."
He’s a virgin, I’m sure of it. Nearly twenty-two, and he’s never touched a woman, certainly not a man. So he’d be tight, and so I close my fist tight around myself at night, when I’m not too drunk to get it up. So tight, and it’d hurt him the first time, no matter how careful I was, and I don’t feel like being careful. Hard to imagine he’d let me take him all that often, though, as masterful as he is. Not that I mind, though. Had more than one man bend me over, and I think he’d be good at it, once he got the hang of it. Could take me over his desk, even, so he wouldn’t have to look at my face, pressed into his papers. I’d get revolution all over myself. He’d like that. Of course, I’d get spit and spunk all over his papers, too, and I can’t imagine he’d be happy with that. Wonder if I could convince him to punish me for it, lecture me sternly and then slap me, my face or my ass or first one then the other. I’d crawl, I’d lick his boots, and feed him croissants in bed the next morning. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. Enjolras could really do with a man like me to teach him a thing or two about the way the world really works. Pretty little rich boy alone in the capital, who knows what might happen to him if someone doesn’t take him in hand. Wonder if he touches himself at night, if he’ll allow himself any release at all. Probably not, because what would he think of while he did? Glory and freedom and the brotherhood of man. Not things I can imagine getting off on. Poor boy.
Author:
1000excuses
Fandom: Les Miserables
Rating: R
Characters/pairings: Enjolras, Grantaire
Summary:
Written as a response to this prompt on the kink meme: "Grantaire fantasizing about having sex with Enjolras."
He’s a virgin, I’m sure of it. Nearly twenty-two, and he’s never touched a woman, certainly not a man. So he’d be tight, and so I close my fist tight around myself at night, when I’m not too drunk to get it up. So tight, and it’d hurt him the first time, no matter how careful I was, and I don’t feel like being careful. Hard to imagine he’d let me take him all that often, though, as masterful as he is. Not that I mind, though. Had more than one man bend me over, and I think he’d be good at it, once he got the hang of it. Could take me over his desk, even, so he wouldn’t have to look at my face, pressed into his papers. I’d get revolution all over myself. He’d like that. Of course, I’d get spit and spunk all over his papers, too, and I can’t imagine he’d be happy with that. Wonder if I could convince him to punish me for it, lecture me sternly and then slap me, my face or my ass or first one then the other. I’d crawl, I’d lick his boots, and feed him croissants in bed the next morning. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. Enjolras could really do with a man like me to teach him a thing or two about the way the world really works. Pretty little rich boy alone in the capital, who knows what might happen to him if someone doesn’t take him in hand. Wonder if he touches himself at night, if he’ll allow himself any release at all. Probably not, because what would he think of while he did? Glory and freedom and the brotherhood of man. Not things I can imagine getting off on. Poor boy.