The Statue and the Fan-Maker

Author:   Pairing: Enjolras/Feuilly  Rating: PG-13

"Close your eyes and think of Poland."

"Antoine!" Feuilly replied, half-scandalized, half-amused. Pinned as he was under the Marble Statue's weight, he nevertheless managed to lightly cuff the side of Enjolras's head.

Enjolras laughed quietly and covered Feuilly's mouth with his own. After several breathless moments, he broke the kiss and smiled fondly at the shirtless fan-maker. "I was inspired by your speech tonight, Bernard."

Feuilly wrinkled his nose and said reprovingly, "You're teasing me. I wish you would stop doing that. You know how strongly I feel about the subject."

"Cher," Enjolras murmured soothingly and bestowed kisses along Feuilly's jaw. When Feuilly did not respond, he sighed. "Mon amour, please. Don't sulk. I wasn't teasing you. It was a good speech, full of fire and passion."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yes, I do," Enjolras answered firmly. "I do not say that just because we are lovers, I say that because it is true. You have a gift for oratory, a true gift."

Feuilly wordlessly reached for Enjolras and pulled his head down to kiss him thoroughly. "Enough words. You can flatter me all you like later. Now is the time, as Jehan would say, to fan the flames of ardor."

"I think Jehan would say that much more melodramatically, but if you insist..." Enjolras smiled then caressed Feuilly's cheek lightly. He bestowed kisses down his lover's chest.

Feuilly's hips twitched slightly as Enjolras's lips lightly touched his groin. He reached out and tightened his fingers around blond curls. A small cry escaped his lips as the fastenings of his pants were deftly undone.

"Lift your hips, s'il te plais?" Enjolras murmured.

Feuilly complied willingly. In a moment, he was completely divested of all clothing. He shivered slightly as the cool air came in contact with parts hitherto concealed.

"You are beautiful, Bernard." Enjolras traced designs along Feuilly's chest with an unsteady hand. "It is almost too much."

Feuilly caught Enjolras's hand and kissed the knuckles reverently. "How is it that you can be so full of intelligence on the state of affairs today yet be ridiculous about other things? You are the beautiful one." He grinned. "Now, shush and kiss me."

Enjolras laughed and obediently kissed him. He leaned forward and nibbled Feuilly's shoulder. "You are quite the demanding one tonight, aren't you?"

"No. Just impatient. I could barely go through work today without thinking of you and your kisses and how much I wanted to feel you inside me."

Enjolras moaned softly and pressed his length against Feuilly. "I was having a similar problem earlier, myself. It made class most... interesting, to say the least."

"Then we ought to do something about this, no?" Feuilly suggested. He slipped one of Enjolras' fingers into his mouth and sucked on it tantalizingly.

"Oh yes," Enjolras replied. When his finger was released, he slid down Feuilly's body and prepared to take him into his mouth.

Suddenly, there was a thunderous knock upon the door. "Enjolras? I know you're in there, let me in!"

Enjolras froze. In a despairing whisper, "Mon Dieu, it's Bahorel."

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