e/R | interrupted wanking, schmoopy boyfriends
"Argh!" yells Enjolras, shielding his eyes as if he’s never seen Grantaire naked before. "Sorry! Sorry!" He edges backwards out of the room and fumbles the door shut behind him, and walks in a bit of a daze back into the living room.
Sinking into the sofa, Enjolras can’t help but remember how Grantaire had looked, one leg hooked up as he stroked himself, bottom lip caught between his teeth and his other hand fingering himself lightly. Enjolras swallows, and loosens his tie, and then he’s suddenly inexplicably angry because they live together now. This is his place too, and if he wants to walk into the bedroom to change out of his work clothes then… then he bloody well will.
Enjolras marches back, slams the door open; Grantaire, on the edge of the bed already, hurriedly pulling his underwear on, tumbles off the bed. “Don’t I please you?” asks Enjolras suddenly, and that wasn’t what he meant to say at all. He breathes in sharply, but it’s out there now.
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