Since LJ seems to have finally capitulated to the Russian government and is now subject to Russian anti-obscenity laws, I'm not going to take a chance on sudden deletions. The Les Mis kinkmeme now lives at
https://lesmiskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/. (
Round 2 here.) Everything has been backed up there. The LJ kinkmeme will stay up, but is now closed to
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the reason Enjolras doesn't have sex is that he can only get off when dominating/degrading/hurting someone (and I mean seriously actually hurting someone), and he hates that part of himself so much he completely bottles up his sex drive. However, Grantaire loves Enjolras so much and has so little self worth that he actually likes Enjolras treating him like shit. So he and Enjolras get into a screwed-up relationship, with Enjolras feeling really guilty about his 'interests' but can't stop because it feels so good and Grantaire won't lift a finger to stop him.
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The beast Enjolras keeps chained up inside him cracks an eye open at that. Ruthlessly he shoves it down, his breath quickening. "Don't offer that, Grantaire," he says harshly. "Don't abase yourself in front of me." It's an order he'd give on principle, of course. He more than anyone has reason to loathe the very idea of man on his knees before man. But it's also a plea. He has serious matters to attend to tonight, and he hasn't the time or the energy to deal with base instincts he thought he'd locked away long ago.
But Grantaire looks up at him with a wry grin and the gleam of challenge in his eyes. "Why not? You call yourselves the friends of the abaissé, and I've miserably flunked every other way to earn your friendship. Why shouldn't I slide that little bit lower to reach the last avenue to your good graces?" So saying, he slides loose-limbed out of his chair--oh, he's definitely been hitting the bottle tonight--and onto all fours in front of Enjolras. His words are sardonic, but once he's ( ... )
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"Yes," Grantaire breathes, his face contorted in ecstasies of pain, "yes, because it's true."
"You want to be used ( ... )
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Slowly, carefully, looking like he's trying to commit each moment to memory for all eternity, Grantaire takes Enjolras' cock inch by inch into his mouth. His mouth is warm, wet with spit and probably with blood, and seems to pulse and clutch at his heated flesh. Deeper, deeper, and there's still almost enough room for Enjolras to wrap his hand around the base when Grantaire chokes and pulls back. Enjolras, startled into a moan by the spasming of Grantaire's throat, barely gives him time to recover before seizing fistfuls of his hair and holding his head in place as he thrusts into his mouth. He has to distract himself somehow or he'll come immediately, so he starts to talk: "You're loving this, aren't you? Being debased. You think you deserve it. That you're lucky to get it. You like the abuse. The more I hurt you--the more you like it--" He forces himself deeper, ignoring--no, relishing--the way ( ... )
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It works, this kind of repression and of conflict works with the character, and you know, it's his PoV, so you never describe how hot he is but he's never been hotter, I'm so incoherent, hope you won't mind.
Please, please, tell me you will repost it on AO3 or somewhere. I want to have a handier place to link it and squee about it.
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AO3 post probably forthcoming as soon as I stop dithering over whether to de-anon.
(CAPTCHA: 'Metal spoofs.' Dammit, trying to think of a way to work a Spinal Tap joke into this comment and failing.)
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By the way, re-reading this again and again, and wikipedia tells me that the word "kerosene" only goes back to 1846.
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