Disclaimer: I do not own Les Mis, any of its pretty boys, or much of anything else. I do have this shiny piece of tin foil though, so, yeah, we can share if you want?

Chapter One: Say Something Stupid

They're almost naked, and, holy hell, he's got Enjolras underneath him. And then Grantaire's got his wrists, dragging them up to the cheap frame of his dorm room bed, searching, finding the belt he's drug off those thin hips. He winds the brown leather carefully, tightening around those beautiful, fragile wrists, leaning over Enjolras to place a kiss there.

Then he's leaning back, straddling Enjolras, panting, daring a glance at that face only to see something he didn't expect.

Dread.

"What?" he asks, breathy and desperate and so damn hard.

"Nothing," Enjolras rejects. He smiles, and it's a poor impression of a smile and Grantaire groans as he realizes he's going to have to stop. He'd gotten so far, farther than they've ever been. And he's twenty for fuck's sake, and Enjolras is eighteen and eighteen year olds shouldn't be able to pull up short like this; it's just not fair.

"Apollo, you're killing me!" he whines, rolling off, unable to keep from pressing his hand to the front of his briefs.

"It's fine," the blonde assures as he tugs a bit at his tied hands, "Grantaire, it's fine. Keep going."

But hell, he's not even hard anymore and that probably means he's seriously freaked out, and since when did Enjolras start lying to him about this crap?

"Shit," Grantaire says as he reaches up to the belt and undoes it. He winds it around his hands as Enjolras sits up beside him, not looking at him, drawing his knees to his chest and hiding what his red boxer briefs don't.

"I'm sorry."

"No, fuck, don't be sorry. I just, I didn't know you wouldn't like it."

"I…uh, I…"

"Speechless, Apollo?"

"I'm sorry."

Grantaire sighs and drops the belt over the edge of the bed as he speaks, "Stop saying that. It's okay. Seriously, hey, look at me."

Enjolras doesn't.

"It's okay."

"Maybe I should go," he says instead as he gets off the bed and pulls on his jeans. Grantaire is for a moment speechless himself, then he's up, grabbing the blonde around the waist, determined not to let him leave like this.

"Don't go," he pleads. He stands behind Enjolras, arms looped around him, face pressed between his shoulder blades. "Please. Talk to me. Did you not like it? Is that, uh, not your thing? Cause that's fine, man, totally. I should probably have asked, but you didn't say anything. My fault."

It had only been is fantasy for like, forever, but if Apollo didn't like it, Grantaire could settle. And what the hell was he saying, being with Enjolras was about as far from settling as he could possibly get.

"No, it's me," Enjolras sighs, relaxing the tiniest bit in his arms but making no move to turn around. "I need to tell you something."

"Uh-oh," Grantaire presses a smile into his neck. His ease isn't completely real because he's thinking about all the pre- and (more often than he would like) post-sex revelations he's heard before. He's thinking about STIs and sexuality and, hell, asexuality because he doesn't think that's a possibility but maybe Enjolras has just been humoring him up to this point.

"You know you can tell me anything," he assures, pulling him close, trying to comfort with little touches. He wants Enjolras to turn around, but he doesn't. There's a long time of silence, then the blonde sighs.

"I've never done this before," he admits in a whisper.

"This as in being tied up or this as in sex?"

"The latter."

"Did you just say 'latter'? Uh, sorry, wrong question, wrong thing to say," he babbles, unsure what he was supposed to say. Should he comfort, or laugh, or tell him just how exciting and nerve-wracking and so damn good that is. He ends up saying something stupid, "I didn't know."

"Right," Enjolras agrees and steps out of his arms. He retrieves his shirt from the floor and pulls it on without looking at Grantaire. He finds his shoes and socks, doesn't take time to put them on, and walks out the door.

Grantaire realizes that it could have been a beautiful moment with a brilliant declaration of love, could have been if he hadn't screwed it up so badly. Story of his life.

~tbc~

Notes: First multiple chapter Les Mis fic, so please bear with me as I get to the plot (and the more fun not-plot). All reviews and comments are really appreciated. Thanks for reading!