Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1230352.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Les_Misérables_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Enjolras/Grantaire, Other_Relationship_Tags_to_Be_Added
  Character:
      Enjolras_(Les_Misérables), Grantaire_(Les_Misérables), Other_Character
      Tags_to_Be_Added, Combeferre_(Les_Misérables), Éponine_Thénardier,
      Cosette_Fauchelevent
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_-_Freeform, Age_Difference, Semi-Public_Sex, enj_is_26_R_is_17,
      grantaire_doesnt_give_a_flippity_flop_about_classes, or_thats_what_he
      wants_u_to_think, Awkward_Boners, Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting,
      angst_but_mostly_sexy_feelings, enjolras_is_okay_at_emotion, Sexual
      Content
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-24 Chapters: 1/? Words: 2941
****** So Far Your Nearness Reaches ******
by grabtaire
Summary
     There's an assembly for the Seniors at Grantaire's high school, and
     Enjolras is one of the guest speakers.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Apparently, today was assembly day for the seniors. Eponine had already
ascertained that Grantaire would be present, because by her judgment, “he could
use the fucking guidance”. This had been hissed harshly and directly in his
ear- thanks, Ep- as she’d pulled him from behind the storage bins by the tennis
courts.
Eponine had wanted to sit at the front of the small auditorium with Cosette and
had graciously let Grantaire sit in the back. A measly 40 chairs had been set
up since only two elective classes were actually going to the assembly each
period that day, so even though he had tried to tuck himself away in the far
back corner, Grantaire could make out every feature of the line of speakers on
the other side of the auditorium.
Which- shit. Because as they went down the line, his eyes made contact with
those of the most angelic creature he had ever seen. Sharp blue eyes framed by
lashes he could make out from the opposite corner of the room. And oh God, his
hair. It was golden and curled and, even in the fluorescent schoolroom, it
seemed to be lit as if he were outside in the summer, windswept by some June
breeze.
Grantaire had never seen such pristine facial structure, and his body looked to
be made out of marble. Grantaire was suddenly very glad that he had been forced
to come- as was the rest of him, apparently. He had embarrassingly become half-
hard just looking at the ethereal being.
The Golden God had looked away, but the student had expected no less. Still,
Grantaire realized he himself probably wouldn’t be able to look away if the
Earth were to suddenly go to hell. It wouldn’t bother him anyways; he had
already found an angel.
Oh God, had he really just thought that? And as his eyes wandered down to the
angel’s hands he decided that yes, yes he had really just thought that.
Mr. Chappell from languages was speaking now, talking about the assembly and
how it would provide advice to aid you as a student and help guide you on the
right path in the future, and blah blah blah. He introduced each of the
speakers, and they all greeted the students with a wave as their names were
called.
Grantaire surfaced long enough to hear, “-Enjolras, who will speak about the
advantages of activism and how you all can get involved-“, and the angel-
Enjolras, Grantaire corrected himself- gave a charming smile, and Grantaire
felt himself go harder still, uncomfortably shifting to make it less obvious.
He caught Enjolras’ eyes again, and they flashed almost imperceptibly before
returning to Mr. Chappell.
The student’s eyes travelled down the angel’s body once more and froze.
Enjolras’ hand was smoothly moving up and down the off microphone that was
upside down in his hand. It seemed like a nervous habit, but Enjolras didn’t
seem nervous, he was still looking at the current speaker coolly.
He did it again, and again. His hand bottomed out at the base, and then slid up
to move his thumb over the top. It still seemed like he was focusing on
something else entirely, as if he was driving Grantaire insane completely
absent-mindedly. Which just was not fair, because somehow- and it took
Herculean effort- the student had to actually look away so he wouldn’t cream
his pants.
It was just too easy to think of that hand wrapped around him, with strong
pumps bringing him closer and closer to the edge, pale blue eyes looking up at
him out of thick, soft lashes as the perfect golden hairs’ tips grew darker and
stuck to his forehead from a clean sweat, so clean Grantaire could lick it off
him-
He planned to take one last look at Enjolras’ face, but was absolutely floored
to find a pair of eyes steadily looking back, and a smirk dancing on the edge
of those perfect lips. His hand was still pumping the fucking microphone. This
went on for another agonizing three minutes, before Grantaire was given
reprieve by Enjolras being re-introduced and welcomed up to the podium to
speak. He did, in fact, get up, and waltzed over so casually it was criminal.
And then he started to speak, and Grantaire was certain he was going to hell.
 
Enjolras began the opening topics of his informational speech, eyes scanning
the audience until they rested on the absolutely gorgeous boy in the back. He
looked like he had been up all night having wild sex, with tousled dark hair
and shadows under his watery blue eyes. For some inexplicable reason (or maybe
not so inexplicable), Enjolras had earlier found himself actually attempting to
tease the young man, letting himself appear disinterested, and it had felt so
good to know that he was the reason the student had shifted his legs every few
seconds.
That image was definitely not welcome during his speech to high school seniors,
which, he had to remind himself,this kid actually was. So Enjolras moved his
eyes away from the smirking student and back to the rest of the audience. He
felt pretty confident about what he was saying, having been convinced by
Combeferre, who was also going to take a turn to speak, to educate and inspire
some potential activists. He had spoken with some of the charities the Amis
sometimes worked with and had had flyers on one of the back tables set up with
information about the whats and hows of each place.
The back table, which was next to Mr. Rugged-But-Totally-Underage; which he
just realized he had actually just thought.
Terrific.
This was aiming to be worse than that time he was coerced into getting drunk at
the Musain and had accidentally gone home with a Republican. He had left mid-
blowjob when he’d seen the Romney sticker on the guy’s desk. 
He could only hope he was eighteen at least, but all worry momentarily slipped
his mind as he noticed that the student had gotten out a water bottle and had
his head tilted back, exposing his pale neck, his lips completely wrapped
around it. Somehow, Enjolras had managed to keep speaking, only actually
fumbling when the boy had let some water dribble out of his mouth and slowly
drip onto his shirt. If Enjolras hadn’t been hard before, he was now.
 
Enjolras was taking questions, and Grantaire was feeling really satisfied.
Not in the sense that he was absolutely desperate for almost any available
friction on his dick, but that he’d definitely noticed the older man’s stutter
interrupting his smooth talk, and even more definitely knew it was because he’d
watched him do his trick with the water bottle. And that had given him some
confidence apparently, because his arm rose of its own volition.
Enjolras was explaining the finer points of how activism would be considered on
college applications to a blushing brown haired girl. His voice somehow
remained both smooth and fiery even as he talked about such mundane things. His
voice, Grantaire thought, should be used exclusively for tearing down higher
powers, not talking about college applications. Also, he probably would sound
absolutely glorious in bed, demanding Grantaire to spread his legs so he could-
“Yes, Mister…?” Enjolras was saying, raising his eyebrows at Grantaire.
 
“It’s Grantaire,” he was smirking. “So you’ve explained how to get involved,
but not why. Could you explain why? So far I don’t see the point.”
Enjolras, annoyed already with himself for having a hard-on for some likely
underage kid with too-blue eyes, tried to speak as smoothly as possible.
“Well, besides the benefits college-wise, the opportunity to do good and raise
awareness can help make it better for people who have it hard-"
“Have it hard?” Grantaire was grinning now. This could not be happening.
“Are in difficult situations and are struggling,” Enjolras rephrased. “Making
things better for people who need it is rewarding in itself, is it not?”
“Oh yes,” Grantaire purred, “And I do love rewarding myself, sir.”
Oh fuckinglord, that voice belonged in the bedroom; Enjolras was not equipped
to deal with this.
“Well that’s good to hear,” he smiled and tried to not make it too obvious that
he was near ready to have Grantaire right there, on the podium in front of
everyone if it came to it; he was so out of his head.
Since there were no more questions, Combeferre took his place on the stage, and
Enjolras was about to return to his seat when he realized Grantaire was no
longer in his own.
 
As soon as Enjolras had looked away, Grantaire knew that there was absolutely
no way he would make it through the rest of the assembly. He left through the
door to the English hall and walked to the nearest bathrooms, heading into the
stall at the end, his pants already half pulled down and dick in hand as he
bolted the lock.
He imagined the blond behind him as he put his forehead onto the cool wall and
pictured Enjolras’ beautiful hand in place of his own, pumping just like he had
with the microphone.
 
Enjolras asked the language teacher where the nearest bathroom was, and was
directed to the English hall, where he went in a sort of stupor. He stumbled
into the bathroom, realizing distantly that it was odd for him to be so clumsy.
 
Grantaire had managed to get two fingers up his ass and was still pumping with
the thought of Enjolras clouding his entire being. He heard the bathroom door
open and a voice that made his strokes stutter call out, “Grantaire?”
Convinced that he was hallucinating, Grantaire let out a gasp, and before he
knew what he was doing, he threw open the stall door, one hand still working
his own ass, and his eyes fell upon golden curls.
 
Suddenly Enjolras was being dragged into the end stall, and was met with a
sight that made him almost cream himself right there.
Grantaire, erect dick out, was looking at him out of his heavy-lidded eyes with
such reverence, and Enjolras wasted no time pushing him against the locked
stall door and connecting their mouths for a few moments, Grantaire immediately
allowing Enjolras entrance to lick his way inside. But the older man had other
things to attend to, especially conscious of the student’s exposed dick
pressing onto his lower abdomen. He turned Grantaire around, separating their
lips and hearing a low whimper because of it, but made up for the lost contact
by reaching around him in a near-embrace so that he could work the boy’s cock.
Grantaire let out a strangled sound as Enjolras pushed his fingers into
Grantaire’s mouth, and began sucking eagerly.
“Good boy,” he purred into Grantaire’s ear, moving his fingers from his mouth
and bringing them down tease his hole. “Do you want this?”
Again, Grantaire let out a sharp sound and pushed his ass back, pressing
against Enjolras’ fingers. But the older man would have none of it. “Use your
words.”
“Yes, sir. Please,” It was Enjolras’ turn to make a strangled noise, wasting no
time pushing two fingers in and pumping in rhythm with the hand that was
already working the student’s dick. He pushed his hand up to the knuckle,
knowing better than to put another finger in.The burn was already likely too
much without any lube to slick the way. Enjolras tried to compensate by working
the boy’s prostate as he leaned in to whisper praise until Grantaire shuddered
and came all over Enjolras’ hand; going limp enough that Enjolras pressed
himself closer in order to support him. Then Grantaire turned around, breathing
hard and looking entirely fucked out. The older man was stunned for a second at
just how the student’s watery blue eyes looked, framed by those inky and messy
curls and half-lidded.
Grantaire dropped to his knees and unbuttoned Enjolras’ pants with his hand,
and then pulled down the zipper with his teeth. Enjolras reached to grip
Grantaire’s hair as his pants were pulled half down his ass and his cock was
let free of the painful restraint of his jeans. One of the student’s hands came
to steady his hip, the other working down to the base of his cock.
As Grantaire licked a hot stripe up the underside of his shaft, Enjolras had to
hold himself back from bucking his hips. Then the student licked the head and
all at once brought it to the back of his throat, his jaw slack and throat
completely relaxed. Enjolras couldn’t help himself, he started fucking
Grantaire’s mouth in earnest, and found himself purring, “Been wanting to do
this since I saw you. You were practically showcasing for me, weren’t you?
Offering yourself up as my own, personal sex toy.” Later he would have to
explain that he really did see him as a person, but now was definitely not the
time. “Lips prettily wrapped around that bottle, and oh you are just as good as
I imagined, you’re such a good boy.” Grantaire was back to sucking and licking
Enjolras’ cock eagerly, his eyes never leaving Enjolras’.
“So desperate for me, aren’t you? You are so eager to please me. Can’t get
enough of my cock, can you?” Enjolras might have been worried that his talking
would leave Grantaire unaffected, but just then the student let out a cross
between a moan and a whine that sent delicious reverberations through Enjolras’
dick; enough to push him over the edge.
He came in hot spurts, pulling away so Grantaire wouldn’t swallow it, just to
be on the safe side. Grantaire let out yet another delicious whimper and came
forward as if he couldn’t stand not to have Enjolras’ release down his throat.
 
Enjolras had never looked more beautiful than he did when he came. His head was
thrown back, marble throat exposed and the tendons in his neck relaxing. His
mouth was parted, and he looked so ethereal. Later, Grantaire would draw that
blissful expression on the god’s face for hours, but for now all he wanted was
to swallow down his come.
When Enjolras pulled away, he felt confused and hurt, moving forward to try to
catch all that he could. But Enjolras stopped him, and Grantaire was left
panicking, trying to figure out where he went wrong to lose the privilege of-
“Grantaire, Grantaire look at me,” Enjolras was saying, and one of his hands
was on Grantaire’s cheek, encouraging him to look into his eyes. Before
Grantaire could look down again, feeling unworthy, Enjolras was rubbing up and
down his back and was quietly murmuring, “I’m sorry, I just wanted to keep it
all safe, I’m sorry.”
Then he did something astounding; he kissed one of Grantaire’s cheeks, and then
the other. He began peppering kisses on his nose, his neck, around his jaw, all
the while drawing Grantaire closer, rubbing comforting circles on his back and
zipping them both up.
“I’m so sorry. I’ve done this all wrong,” he muttered, resting his chin on top
of Grantaire’s head. “You deserve better.”
Now that made Grantaire chuckle. He looked at the older man, feeling better
than he ever had in his life, and a mischievous smile pulled its way onto his
lips.
“Why, sir! You don’t mean to say you regret this all already?” suddenly
Enjolras was grinning at him sheepishly, and oh my God he has dimples. That was
just unfair.
“Oh my God, you have dimples. That’s just unfair,” Grantaire said out loud.
Enjolras chuckled.
“Not as unfair as the talent you have with your mouth. How the hell did you
even learn that at your age?” but it seemed like he didn’t expect an answer,
because he went on to ask, rather seriously, “Speaking of, um, what is your
age? I really should have asked you this before, but I was rather out of it.”
“I’m seventeen.” When Enjolras paled, his eyebrows shot up. “We can’t be that
different in age, can we? What are you, twenty-two? Twenty-three?” He was
typically fairly good at guessing ages.
But Enjolras ran his fingers through his curls in a way Grantaire recognized as
stressful, and he was surprised to hear the tired, “I’m actually twenty-six.”
“That really doesn’t bother me.” It was true. How could anything about Enjolras
bother him?
“Maybe, but it bothers me,” a crease had appeared between his eyebrows. “What
we just did was illegal. I’m all for fighting the system, but that was horribly
inappropriate of me.”
Grantaire had to hide his hurt. “So you’re probably opposed to doing this
again, huh?” he croaked as casually as he could manage.
“Right,” Enjolras was looking away, his profile lit. “I really am so sorry. I
feel horrible.”
Again- ouch. The student forced out a chuckle, “Please do not be sorry. That
was great, the whole thing was amazing.” It was more than that; he couldn't
remember the last time he felt so happy.
Enjolras permitted him a tired smile, but it looked forced. By then he seemed
to realize they were in fact still embracing in an end stall in a high school
bathroom, and that he was far above everything he had just done.
They decided to leave at separate times, Enjolras still having talks to give,
and Grantaire telling him that he had class (which wasn’t a lie; he actually
did, but it wasn’t like he was going).
Enjolras gave him one last peck on the forehead, one that reeked of pity, and
was gone from Grantaire’s life forever.
 
 
End Notes
     ... Or was he??
     But really, he isn't.
     This takes place in the US high school system because I am not
     familiar with any other.
     My angelic beta is the actual greatest and I can't thank her enough!!
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