[Enjolras hums his concurrence, pursuing Remi's lips so forcefully he backs up against the table he'd been sitting at just moments prior. The sudden screech brings him back to the reality of the moment; they've been furiously making out in a now empty classroom like some sort of unbridled teenager.
Enjolras just takes a moment to stare at Remi, at those kiss bruised lips and hazel eyes, before backing away slowly, towards the door. Without breaking eye contact, he blindly reaches back towards the room's sole exit until he can feel the cold metal of the door's lock. He quirks an eyebrow, a wordless request for consent, before flipping and locking it.]
[ Grantaire watches without breathing, the hair on the back of his neck stands as that eyebrow lifts. R’s Adam’s apple bobs as he hears the door lock and he parts his lips to breathe and nod a reply. ]
Please... [ The brunette man’s eyes blink rapidly as he breaks eye contact to hoist himself onto the desk and take off his jacket; there’s an echoing clack as his bag falls to the floor with it. ]
[Slowly, Enjolras makes his way back across the room to the desk Remi is now perched upon, shuffling off his jacket to rest upon a random chair; once closer he seamlessly fits himself between his thighs, snaking his hand along the tops of his jeans to enjoy the friction of the fabric and the shudder he hopes to elicit.
This. This they can do right.
Enjolras leans back in, capturing Remi's lower lip with a small nip then slides almost seamlessly back into kissing him with renewed fervor. In so many ways, Enjolras kisses as he debates: focused, impassioned, deliberate, as if his end objective was to not just to overpower but take his opponent apart at the seams and remake into Enjolras' ideal.]
[ R’s hands grab at Enjolras’ shirt, pulling the fabric toward him as he clamps the man’s slender hips between his thighs where he fit himself so nicely. There is a moan into Enjolras’ paler lips as a renewed shiver indeed washes over Grantaire at the moment the blond had hoped.
Avoid the hands- if R could keep his hands off of Enjolras’ he could stay right here with him. Here. Here with his lips on his, E’s hands on his waistband, R’s hands fidgeting with the button down while gently clawing at the stiff muscles of Enjolras’ abdomen as he revealed them beneath the opening fabric. Grantaire sucks on the tongue as it enters his mouth forcefully, demandingly. He smiles, willingly letting the blond man shape him as he would like. Right now, Enjolras, his seams were ripping open for you. ]
[Enjolras shivers as he feels Remi trace the outlines of his stomach, now exposed to the simultaneously too warm and too cool room. A hunger of sorts coiling in his abdomen, he snakes his hand into Remi's dark curls, pulling him further in as he tries to claim, taste, everything in his mouth. His free hand toys with the band of Remi's pants at first, then starts to tug at it with increasing impatience. Finally, he breaks their mouths apart, their teeth almost clacking with his restlessness, and scowls down at Grantaire's jeans.]
[ R chuckles and hums with excitement and fondness as he helps Enjolras’ hands to undo his buckle and unfix the button on his jeans. ]
I thought you liked a challenge, sir. [ He leans in and breathes it into his ear with a smirk, nipping Alexandre’s lobe gently after he kisses it. Grantaire in turn peels back Enjolras’ shirt, popping one of the buttons he’d missed. Oops.
R stifles a loud snigger and kisses at Enjolras’ neck hungrily to apologize. ]
[The scowl Enjolras gives him is petulant at best, his already arousal-prompted flush darkening..]
Very funny, now get over here.
[Curling his fingers along the base of Remi's neck, Enjolras arches his own to the side to allow the brunette greater access. The moan he emits is sinful at its height, drawn-out and almost too loud for the still somewhat public place. Another memory flashes as he closes his eyes to soak in the pleasure of it; those accursed wine-soaked lips, extolling his virtues and resemblance to every beautiful icon of the classics, a voice distant yet familiar in some way--]
[ Grantaire keeps up the worshipping kisses and bites, leaving an artwork of gently laid marks that will be gone by the morning but are for R to admire for the evening. He kisses E’s exposed collarbone and runs his hands down to his hips and lower, slowly lower as his kisses move down in sync, R craning his neck to reach his flawless chest and nip at it.
With a smile and one more lingering kiss to his neck again, he carefully pulls his face back to look at the face that provides the sinful noises R is extracting. The hands on Enjolras’ thighs press a little and he leans into his lips and hovers. R breathes shakily despite his smug, calm demeanor. ]
[He hears the voice again, speaking of him as incapable of enjoying a lover beyond Patria; an untouchable work of marble (and oh, the irony of it now; for whatever Enjolras did not claim in that life, he was more than making up for now). Enjolras snaps out of whatever bliss-induced dream he's having; his eyes now fixate on Remi's again, dark and wanting.]
You can help by shirking those damn pants off completely. And the shirt too while you're at it.
ask and ye shall receive
Enjolras just takes a moment to stare at Remi, at those kiss bruised lips and hazel eyes, before backing away slowly, towards the door. Without breaking eye contact, he blindly reaches back towards the room's sole exit until he can feel the cold metal of the door's lock. He quirks an eyebrow, a wordless request for consent, before flipping and locking it.]
hot diggity dog
Please... [ The brunette man’s eyes blink rapidly as he breaks eye contact to hoist himself onto the desk and take off his jacket; there’s an echoing clack as his bag falls to the floor with it. ]
no subject
This. This they can do right.
Enjolras leans back in, capturing Remi's lower lip with a small nip then slides almost seamlessly back into kissing him with renewed fervor. In so many ways, Enjolras kisses as he debates: focused, impassioned, deliberate, as if his end objective was to not just to overpower but take his opponent apart at the seams and remake into Enjolras' ideal.]
oof. ooooof.
Avoid the hands- if R could keep his hands off of Enjolras’ he could stay right here with him. Here. Here with his lips on his, E’s hands on his waistband, R’s hands fidgeting with the button down while gently clawing at the stiff muscles of Enjolras’ abdomen as he revealed them beneath the opening fabric. Grantaire sucks on the tongue as it enters his mouth forcefully, demandingly. He smiles, willingly letting the blond man shape him as he would like. Right now, Enjolras, his seams were ripping open for you. ]
no subject
Why is your clothing being impossible today..??
no subject
I thought you liked a challenge, sir. [ He leans in and breathes it into his ear with a smirk, nipping Alexandre’s lobe gently after he kisses it. Grantaire in turn peels back Enjolras’ shirt, popping one of the buttons he’d missed. Oops.
R stifles a loud snigger and kisses at Enjolras’ neck hungrily to apologize. ]
no subject
Very funny, now get over here.
[Curling his fingers along the base of Remi's neck, Enjolras arches his own to the side to allow the brunette greater access. The moan he emits is sinful at its height, drawn-out and almost too loud for the still somewhat public place. Another memory flashes as he closes his eyes to soak in the pleasure of it; those accursed wine-soaked lips, extolling his virtues and resemblance to every beautiful icon of the classics, a voice distant yet familiar in some way--]
R...
no subject
[ Grantaire keeps up the worshipping kisses and bites, leaving an artwork of gently laid marks that will be gone by the morning but are for R to admire for the evening. He kisses E’s exposed collarbone and runs his hands down to his hips and lower, slowly lower as his kisses move down in sync, R craning his neck to reach his flawless chest and nip at it.
With a smile and one more lingering kiss to his neck again, he carefully pulls his face back to look at the face that provides the sinful noises R is extracting. The hands on Enjolras’ thighs press a little and he leans into his lips and hovers. R breathes shakily despite his smug, calm demeanor. ]
Can I help you, President?
no subject
You can help by shirking those damn pants off completely. And the shirt too while you're at it.