You Little Pest-A Les Miserables Fan Fiction

Chapter Five

*Taire’s POV*

On the way to the cafe, Eponine plugged her headphones into her ipod and texted Cosette violently. I had time to relive last night in silence.

It all started on the couch. We were watching The Hills Have eyes, and Enjolras kept his eyes shut for so long he ended up falling asleep on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around him to keep him warm, and he came in closer. In is sleep, he kept repeating, “Taire...Taire...pancakes...I like your stubble...curly brown hair....wine...” and I took in the hair around him, soaking it all up. The air, the words, the smell, I wanted it all. Instead of him sleeping on my chest, back to chest, it was now chest to chest. Still asleep, he moved his hand around the inside of my shirt. I had no obligation, I let it continue.

“Rough...skin so rough...feels good...” he mumbled along. A few minutes later, his eyes fluttered open, and saw my eyes watching him. He didn’t move, I didn’t move. We let it be, because the moment was amazing, breathtaking. 

I began kissing him roughly on the neck, feeling the goosebumps run through his body. 

“Taire...”

I didn’t reply. I just let the sound of him calling my name hang in the air. I carried him to my bedroom, and set him down on the soft, pearl white bed sheets. Not long afterwards, both of our shirts were off, and not long after that, everything was off.

“Taire, not now...”

But he knew how much both of us wanted this. He was marble, his muscles perfectly toned, his skin a perfect shade of white. Not pale, but a marble white. He was strong, known to be unbreakable, yet he shattered at my touch. With the ABC, or anywhere really, he was a noble and fierce leader, capable of doing terrible. With me, he’s shy, tender, and has a soul.

He kissed me so-

“We’re here. Get out.” Eponine kicked the side door open, running to the cafe. I lowered myself onto the ground, and saw Cafe Musain was closed-just for Enjolras.

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He only had one small suitcase with him, and he sat on it, even though there were chairs all around him. Cosette was holding his hand, kissing it softly every once in a while, offering him her condolence. “It’s okay. Taire’s here. It’s okay.”

If i didn’t tell you, or concluded yourself, Cosette and Enjolras were close friends. One of those guy-girl bestfriend relationship things, where she could be completely naked in front of him and he not care. He was her rock, she was his protection. It’s weird, but nice. That was how it worked.

“Enjolras, Taire is here.” Eponine patted him on the shoulder softly, whispering into his ear, “He’s here to save the damsel in distress.”

“Taire, slowly...” Combeferre uttered closely into my ear.

“Gently, nothing to rash...” Bahorel said, which was weird coming from him.

I pushed passed them and took Enjolras’ face into my hands, then shimmied him up my back, took his suitcase, and left.

*Enjolras’ POV*

He didn’t speak at all during the ride home. He just sat there, one hand on the wheel, the other propping up his head. What happened yesterday? This morning? So many things.  So many beautiful, shameful, and hurtful things.

Grantaire and I, well mostly him, had gotten drunk last night. Insanely drunk. I’m pretty surprised he isn’t dead with a hangover. But then again, he’s Taire. He can take any drink and more.

 I felt so happy and alive with him, I never wanted the night to end. Grantaire, Drunk, Cynic, the Winecask, no matter what he was called, he was mine. 

After he had taken me from the couch, we ended up in bed. It wouldn’t be appropriate to give full details of our time in bed, so I’ll skip to the next part.

My parents had called right in the middle of Taire being drunk and extremely seductive. I told him to quiet down so I could answer the phone, but he kept rambling on about my hair. How once my hair was long enough Jehan could’ve french braided it. I told him that if he kept quiet, he could play with my hair as much as he wanted. He hushed up.

“Enjolras? Where are you? It’s 1 a.m.!” Mother screamed into the phone, my father ranting on in the back about irresponsible children.

“I’m at Combeferre’s house,” my parents like Comb, they say he’s a good influence.

“Let me speak to Combeferre.”

“He’s in the bathroom.”

“Then I’ll wait.”

“Joly’s here too. It’s a study session. He’s getting his PhD, and we need to get back as quickly as possible.”

“Then let me talk to him.”

That’s when Taire had began kissing my neck harshly, groaning, urging for more.

“Enjolras...” he whined, rubbing my back. 

“Is that Grantaire? The troublemaker? He’s there?”

“No! I’m coming home.”

“Enjolras, you listen to me, tell me exactly where you are. Don’t you move!”

“Taire, Taire let go right now,”

“But Enjolras...” he was left clinging to the bed sheets where I lay. He cried out for me in pain, shouting to a point where the neighbors would call the cops.

“Shh...Shh... it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” I hushed him up and held him against my chest. We both cried a bit, him a lot, but he fell asleep and I tucked him in. I put on random clothes from his closet, since mine were covered in wine. As I left the house to get to the bus station, I realized I forgot my contacts, but there was no time to go back.

Mom called four more times, Dad five times.

When I returned home, they both sat on the couch. 2:37 a.m. “Mrs. Howard called and said she heard Grantaire shouting your name, and you screaming back/” Mom’s face was pale white and cold.

“You’re not wearing your clothes we bought you! Where are your clothes?! Whose are those? Maybe Grantaire’s? Hmm? Did he fancy you a new set of clothes because you two were naked in bed together?!” 

“Dad stop!”

“What are those red things on your neck?”

“Mosquito bites.”

“Pack your bags and get out.”

I sat at a 24 hour bar until Cafe  Musain opened.