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“The fuck?!” yelped Grantaire as he fell gracelessly out of an unfamiliar bed and onto the hard wood floor below. It took him a moment to remember that he was staying at Feuilly and Bahorel’s flat, and the lingering scent of coffee and Enjolras’ deodorant indicated that his temporary flatmate had already dressed and left for the day.
“Wh’time s’it?” he mumbled groggily, reaching for the phone that had woken him with an aggressive screech and a jarring vibration.
Apparently it was 11:32 in the morning, and Grantaire was the proud recipient of one next text message;
Apollo:
Tonight. I’m ready.
If Grantaire hadn’t already been sprawled on the floor he might have fallen over. Suddenly the weak winter sunlight filtering through the smeary window seemed bright and joyful, the metaphorical ray of sunshine made reality.
Grantaire was going to have sex with Enjolras! Oh happy day!
Grantaire was going to have sex with Enjolras! Oh… shit.
Grantaire’s bliss quickly crumbled into naked terror at the prospect of being responsible for Enjolras’ first time. There was no question of course who would be on top, or who would be in charge; Enjolras, it was always Enjolras, and that was the way Grantaire liked it. But what if Enjolras didn’t know what to do and asked Grantaire to take control? No that was absurd, this was Enjolras; he would have prepared for this, would have researched extensively, collected data, created spreadsheets and timetables… And it wasn’t like this was uncharted territory, Enjolras had opened Grantaire up with his fingers so many times that he could play the artist like an instrument and have him sobbing for release within minutes. They’d played with a dildo just the night before, and Enjolras had watched Grantaire fuck himself enough on various toys to know exactly how it was done. After everything they’d done together Enjolras was hardly a virgin anymore, so tonight was really no big deal…
Except that somehow it was.
Grantaire made his way through half a pack of Feuilly’s cigarettes and the remainder of the pot of coffee while his thoughts twisted themselves in knots and every nerve in his body sparked with tension. He had texted back simply, “Looking forward to it. I’ll pick up supplies x”. But it was now 12:07 and he was yet to come up with a believable excuse for backing out.
“Shower,” he told himself firmly, “Shower. Get nice and clean for Enjolras.”
He washed his hair twice, scrubbed his nails, clipped them, scrubbed them again, had a wank, considered shaving his pubes – exactly how much porn would Enjolras have watched in preparation for tonight? – decided against it, and washed his hair again. Enjolras liked his hair.
By the time he emerged, dripping wet, reeking of shampoo, and probably the cleanest he’d ever been in his entire life, his phone was waiting with another text;
Apollo:
You’re probably nervous. Don’t
be, I’ll take good care of you love
It seemed absurd, Enjolras reassuring Grantaire when Grantaire was not the virgin in this situation, but the student’s words were soothing nonetheless and Grantaire immediately felt calmer; of course Enjolras would take care of him, Enjolras was in charge, he would always be in charge, and all Grantaire had to do was be a good boy and obey orders. He could do that. If he could do anything, he could be good for Enjolras. He would try his best and Enjolras always said that that was enough – Grantaire was enough. Grantaire was wanted. Grantaire was loved.
Grantaire was going to get laid!
Just as these calming thoughts were soothing the tension in Grantaire’s body his phone rang, and he dropped his towel in his hurry to answer it, “Hello?”
“Hello,” replied Enjolras, the warmth of his smile evident in his tone, and oh, just the sound of his voice was enough to relax Grantaire, dispelling his anxieties as Enjolras purred, “Are you excited for tonight?”
“A little nervous actually,” admitted Grantaire truthfully.
“I thought you might be. It’s okay, I know you’re only nervous because you want to be good for me. You will be. You can’t be anything but good for me, my sweet, obedient boy. I’ve been planning tonight for a long time and I’ve got it all under control. Nothing’s going to go wrong and you are going to be so, so good and make me very happy, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” whispered Grantaire, losing his fear in the timbre of Enjolras’ firm voice.
“Do you want me to tell you what’s going to happen?”
“Yes,” repeated Grantaire hungrily.
“Perfect boy. My last class finishes at five, so I should be back at the flat by half past at the latest. I want you in the bedroom waiting for me, naked and on your knees, and I don’t want you to touch yourself all day because I am going to make you come so many times tonight that you’ll be begging me to stop, understand?”
“I already did,” confessed Grantaire, “I was nervous, so I took a shower and I kind of…”
“It’s fine,” soothed Enjolras, “I hadn’t told you not to yet. My good boy is so needy he just can’t keep his dirty little hands to himself. You know I love it when you touch yourself. Just not for the rest of the day, not until I can get back and do it for you. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” agreed Grantaire, a touch of desperation in his voice.
“My good boy. And when I get back and find you all ready for me I’m going to treat you so nicely you’ll forget all your nerves. First I’m going to take you over my lap and warm you up with a spanking, get your ass all hot and sore, make you yelp and make your skin all nice and red with my handprints. I want to watch you rubbing yourself against me like an animal, getting off on how nicely I hurt you. Do you think you’ll come for me then?”
“Yes,” breathed Grantaire, the affirmation becoming almost like a mantra as Enjolras’ words simultaneously soothed and aroused him.
“Good, I’ll want you to. Then I’m going to tell you to lie on the bed while I get you ready to take my cock. It’s going to be slow, agonisingly slow, I’m going to tease you with my hands, maybe my mouth too if you’re very good, I’m going to drive you wild until you’re crying for my cock inside you, but I’m going to make you come again without it. And you’ll be feeling so open and empty, so spent, my poor boy, and I’ll be so hard after seeing you suffering so beautifully… I might let you suck me then, get me nice and wet and ready with that pretty mouth of yours, or I might just decide to fuck you. Either way you’ll be coming again and it’ll hurt, I’ll make sure it hurts, and you’ll scream. I want to hear you scream for me while I make you truly mine.”
“God yes,” whispered Grantaire, his voice hoarse and his cock hard already without his touching it once, “I want that so much.”
“Good,” replied Enjolras primly, “I’m glad it appeals. I have to go back to class now but I’ll see you in a few hours. Remember, no touching yourself.”
Grantaire groaned, “You’re cruel!”
“And you’re a masochist. Quid pro quo,” Enjolras returned with all the smoothness of a legal student, his voice betraying his smirk, “See you soon, pet.”
“Not soon enough,” groaned Grantaire, as Enjolras hung up. He was achingly hard, but at least he was no longer nervous, and when his phone beeped with an incoming text message a few minutes later he grabbed it eagerly rather than anxiously.
Apollo:
I’m going to take you so completely
apart, you’re going to hurt for me so
beautifully, and then when you’re
too far gone even to beg I’m going
to finally take you. You’re mine.
Grantaire groaned again with a smile, the next few hours were going to be the longest of his life!
“Ah, my good boy. You look beautiful.”
Grantaire had heard Enjolras open the front door from the bedroom, and he made sure to arrange himself as appealingly as possible when his boyfriend entered the room; stripped naked, holding his belly in, his cock already half hard between his legs as he knelt on the floor, hands crossed behind his back and his head dropped submissively to the floor with his lower lip held seductively between his teeth.
“I like that you’ve been waiting for me all day without being able to touch yourself. Have you been getting hard thinking about what I’m going to do to you?”
Grantaire nodded mutely, keeping his eyes trained on the ground.
“Answer me when I ask you a question!” barked Enjolras, slapping Grantaire smartly across the cheek and oh good, they were getting down to the fun stuff straight away tonight.
Grantaire looked up, the gladness in his face impossible to hide as he whispered, “Yes. Want you.”
“Impatient boy,” smiled Enjolras cruelly, “I’m going to have a lot of fun using you tonight. Maybe I won’t let you touch yourself ever again, it makes you so eager, so desperate.”
Grantaire whimpered at that, his cock stirring as Enjolras circled him predatorially, scraping his fingernails lightly across the tattooed skin of Grantaire’s back.
“You remember what I said we’d be doing first?”
“Y-yes. You’re going to spank me.”
“Yes I am. You’ve been such a good boy to wait for me that you deserve a reward. And you’re such a little slut for pain that you think me hitting you is a reward. Do you like it when I hurt you?”
“Yes. Please,” whimpered Grantaire to the floor.
“Get over here, slut,” called Enjolras from the bed where he had seated himself and he beckoned Grantaire to lay across his lap.
Grantaire did as he was told, quickly settling himself over Enjolras’ thighs with his head bowed, his weight braced on his elbows, and his legs crossed at the ankles, pushing his ass eagerly into the air. He relished the rough friction of Enjolras’ jeans against his bare skin and couldn’t help but grind his rapidly hardening cock against the student’s leg a little bit.
Enjolras chuckled, “Dirty boy, already begging for me. Are you ready?”
Grantaire made an affirmative keening noise as Enjolras gently stroked a hand over his exposed ass, rubbing the skin and pinching lightly, kneading the firm flesh teasingly, refusing to give Grantaire what he wanted until he begged for it.
“Please,” whimpered Grantaire, “Enj, please.”
Enjolras answered by bringing the flat of his hand down hard, the slap resounding throughout the room chased by Grantaire’s yelp of surprise. It quickly turned into a moan as Enjolras brought his hand down again and again, not as hard as the first time but still enough to sting, enough to make Grantaire arch his spine and whimper deliciously, enough to leave the beginnings of a red handprint across pale white skin.
“You get twenty,” hissed Enjolras as he brought down the fourth slap, “Twenty, and I expect you to come. You can rub against me if you want to.”
The permission was unnecessary, as Grantaire was already rubbing himself shamelessly against Enjolras’ thigh, his cock achingly hard since the first smack had been delivered and his tension growing with each sharp stinging blow. He could feel Enjolras’ own arousal growing, the bulge pressing into his abdomen insistently, getting larger with every slap.
“Harder, please,” he begged, his voice strained and almost tearful.
Enjolras obliged thrice in quick succession, hard, sharp slaps making Grantaire cry out and rut harder against his tormentor. Enjolras knew exactly how to push Grantaire to the edge with this and he did so, varying the strength of the blows and changing the rhythm in which he delivered them, not allowing Grantaire to fall into a steady pattern but making sure that every strike was a shock, every slap, whether hard or soft, was enough to jerk a whimper or a yelp from Grantaire’s shuddering chest.
Enjolras was keeping track in his head; twelve: hard; thirteen and fourteen: softer but swiftly delivered; fifteen: upper thigh, Grantaire’s entire body convulses, interesting; sixteen: hard again, and on the reddest part of his poor, sweet ass; seventeen: oh.
Grantaire keened desperately, the noise almost a sob as his orgasm tore through him. He was fucking himself against Enjolras’ leg, the denim painful against his sensitive skin but oh so good, and Enjolras’ blows still raining down on his stinging ass even as he spurted hotly over those torturous jeans. He whimpered dully as the last strike landed, wrung out by his climax and the pain radiating hotly across his skin, and it took a moment for him to return to himself sufficiently to realise that Enjolras was gently stroking the heated skin of his ass with something cool.
“Shhh, such a good boy,” Enjolras was murmuring soothingly, “You took that so well. My perfect boy, you’re so good to let me use you like this. Did you enjoy it as much as I did?”
Grantaire grunted in the affirmative, trying to lever himself upright with his elbows but finding Enjolras’ hand between his shoulder blades pressing him back down.
“I know you did, perfect boy. And it’s not over yet, I’m going to make you come again and again just like I promised. You’re finally going to be mine tonight.”
Grantaire’s cock stirred hopefully at that but there was no way he would be getting it up again quite yet, so instead he relaxed gladly into Enjolras’ gentle care, the respite welcome even with the tantalising prospect of impending sex.
“There. Feel okay?” asked Enjolras, dabbing the last of the cream onto Grantaire’s ass. It was overkill, considering he’d only hit him with the flat of his hand and there’d probably be no bruising, let alone bleeding, but if Enjolras was doing this then he was damn well doing it with all due attention and care. After all, it was better to be over cautious than not cautious enough.
“S’good,” muttered Grantaire into the bed sheet. This time when he tried to prop himself up Enjolras allowed it, and he twisted to face his boyfriend, smiling, “I think I’m ready for round two.”