Fill for the Les Mis Kink Meme prompt: "I'd just like Valjean-or Madeleine, however your delicious plotty mind manages to work something out-for whatever reason, getting Javert all fancied up in something that's not his uniform, and getting all hot under the collar about how fuckable Javert looks with the super quality, well tailored threads."
All too happy to oblige that!
(also posted on AO3)
Better Suited
"And that concludes my report, Monsieur," Javert said, his deep voice crisp as ever.
Madeleine took that as his cue to nod. In the last half hour he had given his inspector his full and undivided attention. That was to say: the man, not the words. His mind hadn't cared a hoot about police business and had wandered off in far better directions from the moment Javert had stepped into his office.
Perhaps it was a mechanism of his mind to deal with the threat that Javert could pose to him, but Madeleine had taken to imagine the tall inspector in various stages of undress while he made his reports. But what had started as a way to breathe easier around Javert had soon become a secret little vice that Madeleine found to be surprisingly delightful. He had mentally taken apart the blue uniform so often that it was sometimes hard to remember that the inspector was actually still wearing it.
To remedy that, his mind's eye would supply a different outfit instead. Without fail, his imagination would then picture Javert in something much finer than the uniform. Like now. The velvet coats that were all the rage these days would look incredible on the inspector, he thought. Not to mention how a toning waistcoat would shape the man's already narrow waist… Madeleine looked away for a moment to hide a blush creeping up behind his beard.
"Will that be all, Monsieur?" Javert prompted, somewhat impatiently.
Pulled from his reverie, Madeleine sought quickly for a good reply. "Well, actually…" He went with the first thing that came to mind. "You know I am hosting a ball on May 15th?"
Javert took a deep breath that sounded like he was bracing himself from something had hoped to avoid. "Yes, Monsieur le Maire. I'm aware of the event."
"Well, you should be. I did send you an invitation, after all." Madeleine smiled.
"You did. But I must respectfully decline, Monsieur."
"Oh?" Madeleine frowned in earnest disagreement. "And why would that be?"
Despite his ever-straight shoulders, Javert looked decidedly ill at ease all of a sudden.
"For a number of reasons, Monsieur," he said tenuously. "Mostly because a policeman's duty is never done."
"That is why you have a staff at your command. You can be spared one night in a year, surely."
Javert's mouth twitched nervously. "I beg your pardon, Monsieur le Maire, but I do not appreciate such events."
"Neither do I, Inspector, but it is an official event, not a garden party. As mayor, it is my obligation to host this party, as it is your obligation as my chief of police to attend it."
Madeleine saw Javert's jaw clench tightly. "But Monsieur—" he protested.
"You understand duty better than anyone, Inspector. No, I'm afraid I must insist."
"But Monsieur!"
Madeleine eyed him intently, chin resting on his hands and smiling slightly. That always seemed to unnerve Javert for some reason, and it didn't fail to do so now: the inspector's bright eyes darted frantically for a few moments before locking onto the floorboards.
"You put me in an embarrassing position, Monsieur," Javert said gravely.
Madeleine tilted his head a fraction. "That was never my intention, Inspector. If you fear you might feel awkward in such company, rest assured that you will not be alone in that."
He could practically hear Javert grit his teeth.
"It is not just that, Monsieur le Maire. It is…" He struggled to swallow his pride. "…the dress code."
Madeleine feigned ignorance of the inspector's distress. "It's merely formal attire," he said lightly. "Nothing extravagant." Although seeing Javert in an evening suit would be all different kinds of extravagant in so many ways. As far as Madeleine was concerned, that was the one anticipation that made this whole ball-thing worth while.
To his amazement, Javert actually reddened. "I have never had need for formal attire, Monsieur," he said tersely.
"There is a first time for everything," Madeleine replied with a devious glint in his eyes.
Javert rolled his eyes. "You do not understand, Monsieur." When he got no other reply but that same kind smile, he pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation. Then, deliberately and with the resignation of a man facing inevitable humiliation, he straightened himself again.
"I have no formal attire, Monsieur," he said slowly, as if explaining to a child. "As it would not be appropriate to attend in my regular uniform, I would rather decline the invitation all together."
Madeleine's smile faltered. "That won't do, Javert. That simply will not do."
For an instant, Javert's gaze snapped to him in a furious glare, but then the inspector resumed his inspection of the wall with renewed vigor. Madeleine completely ignored this while he and got out a sheet of paper and his pen.
"Any man holding a public office should have a suit for formal occasions," he said as he began to write. "Army officer have dress uniforms, a mayor has a suit to go with the chain of office, et cetera. That should be no different for police officers. I'm surprised the Prefecture hasn't thought of this."
Surprised perhaps, but incredibly grateful for the opportunity it provided.
He continued to write in silence. Before his mind's eye, he played with the dozens of daydreams that Javert's weekly reports had inspired over the last year. Every now and again he would stop writing to close his eyes or give Javert - who still stood ramrod straight before his desk, fuming silently - an appraisingly look.
Eventually he put down his pen and read back what he had written. Then he signed the paper with a flourish and a stamp, and tossed some wood chafing on the ink to help it dry.
"May I be so bold as to inquire after the contents of the letter?" Javert said, his voice dangerously low.
"You may," said Madeleine cheerfully as he folded the letter and put it in an envelop, which he sealed. "This is a letter to Monsieur Delpeche, the tailor down in Rue du Jardin." He held it out to Javert.
The inspector glared at it as if it was a poisonous snake.
"It's not charity," said Madeleine when Javert continued to refuse. "I know you don't appreciate that kind of gesture. However, these are official orders given in my function as mayor."
With a wry look on his face, Javert accepted the envelop. "And your next order would be for me to deliver it, I presume?"
"Yes, Inspector. And to have the tailor inform you of its contents and—"
"And follow that contents to the letter," Javert said, professional resignation barely suppressing his indignation. "I understand perfectly, Monsieur le Maire. Will that be all, then?"
Madeleine smirked gleefully. "Oh yes. That will be all."
He watched Javert leave, noting the man's long strides as the inspector legged out of the office and barely remembered not to slam the door behind him.
Javert might not like the orders, but Madeleine knew that, dutiful as Javert was, the man would obey every word. He chuckled to himself. As much as he had dreaded hosting that ball, now he couldn't wait.
On the evening of the festivities, Madeleine found his concentration wandering. The annual ball at the mairie was the kind of event that was attended by 'everyone who was someone' in Montreuil society. A ridiculous notion, in his opinion, especially with his background. He didn't feel comfortable around so many people who were everything he was not. Yet he could not keep the anticipatory smile off his face.
He had made a point of going by the police station this afternoon to remind Javert of today's date. Perhaps it had been overkill, but he didn't put it beyond Javert to come up with a last-minute emergency that absolutely required his personal attention. Apparently it wouldn't come to that, but Madeleine hadn't been able to read the look in the inspector's eyes when he assured Monsieur le Maire that, yes, he would be there tonight.
Be that as it may, Javert had yet to arrive.
Madeleine watched the guests dancing to the music of the string quartet that played at the far end of the mairie's grand hall. Taking refuge from the incessant chatter everywhere, he had taken up position off to the side and toyed with the empty wine glass in his hand. A garçon passed to fill it again before he could decline.
"It would appear, Monsieur, that you have very good taste," a deep voice drawled behind him. "Although I did take some liberty with regards to the colors you had selected."
Madeleine startled and turned, the convict in him poising to flee. But when he saw who had spoken, he froze on the spot, unable to do anything but stare.
If Javert looked impeccable on a daily basis, tonight he surpassed the definition of the word. When Madeleine had instructed M. Delpeche to make a fashionable evening attire for the chief of police, he had never dared to dream it would suit the man so incredibly well.
His silk cravat, like the shirt underneath, was perfectly white. It was a far cry from the leather cravat that was part of the police uniform and the light color gave Javert's stern face a softer edge that made him look more approachable. The high collar of his dark coat fit his neck perfectly. His long hair, tied back flawlessly at the nape of his neck with a silk ribbon, fell fluidly over the collar and down his back. And that coat… Madeleine had asked for a dark green coat, he remembered, but this 'midnight blue', as it was called, made the inspector's broad chest and shoulder stand out even more. Whenever Javert moved, the light reflected off the velvet like stars in the night sky. It was stunning.
He gulped and let his eyes travel further down. The dark grey waistcoat was enforced with whalebone, as ordered, to accentuate the curves of Javert's waist and hips. Not that the man really needed it, but dear God, this was perfection!
His heart began to beat faster as his gaze followed the lines of the black trousers down the endless lengths of the inspector's legs. One concession Javert hadn't made was exchanging his customary boots for shoes, but the black, brightly polished leather hugging his calves befitted him far better than even the finest shoes would have.
Slowly his vision travelled up again. He saw now that Javert had his leaden headed cane hooked in the crook of his elbow. Against the dark velvet of his sleeves, it was a stylish accessory rather than a policeman's weapon, like it belonged with the design of the clothes.
Taking the sight of Javert in once more, the first word that came to Madeleine's mind was 'gorgeous'.
"It— is a darker than I had envisioned," he muttered when he forced himself to look Javert in the eye before his appraising gaze would turn into outright ogling.
Javert scoffed and flicked some imaginary dust from the black velvet top hat he held in his hand. "I would have preferred black for the coat, but dark blue was the next best thing." He looked away for a moment, the way he would when remembering his place. "Perhaps that was audacious of me. I apologize, Monsieur le Maire. I did not mean to question your decisions."
Madeleine felt his face flush. "Oh, good Heavens, no! There is nothing to apologize for, Javert." Not a damnable thing, in truth. "Even the best tailored clothes do not fit well if you aren't comfortable wearing them. And this—," he was getting very hot all of a sudden, "— this suits you exceptionally well."
Javert nodded politely. "So I have been told several times since coming in. As I said, your taste is highly appreciated."
"It is not my taste they applaud," said Madeleine before he could help himself. "When people see a policeman, they see only his uniform. But tonight people get to see that you are just as formidable a man without the uniform." He smiled warmly. "It is you they applaud." Or at least he did.
Javert said nothing, but a faint blush appeared on his cheekbones as he averted his eyes. Montreuil's chief of police could take even the harshest criticism head on, but any compliment that didn't relate to his work always managed to embarrass the inspector ever so slightly. If Javert hadn't been such a dangerous man, it would have been tempting to call that light blush and flitting eyes adorable.
But Javert was a dangerous man, and that was what made it so enticing to see him in this well-tailored suit. It reminded Madeleine of something the poet Schiller wrote: that what is beautiful will only become sublime if it is also dangerous. If that was true - and Madeleine thought it was - then there could be no doubt that Javert was in every way sublime. Tonight even more so than ever.
"Monsieur le Maire?"
Madeleine's head snapped up, realizing too late that he had been staring again. "I'm sorry, Inspector. You were saying?" he said as innocently as possible.
Javert gave him a strange look. "You were lost in thought, Monsieur," he said, his bright eyes fixed intently on Madeleine. "I did not speak, but I do not expect you would have heard me if I had. Just as I'm sure you did not hear a word of the report I made yesterday." His chin tilted down almost imperceptibly. "Or last week. Or the week before that."
Madeleine couldn't help but flush guiltily. His instinct was to turn and run, but Javert's predatory gaze pinned him where he stood.
"I—I assure that you always have my full attention, Inspector," he said, unable to keep a faint tremor from his voice.
Javert smirked knowingly, like a cat that has cornered a mouse. "So I have noticed, Monsieur."
Despite his past - or maybe because of it – Javert's almost threatening tone of voice stirred Madeleine's blood. He was deeply grateful that they stood in a quiet corner and none of the guests seemed to have noticed the tense exchange between the mayor and the chief of police. It wouldn't do for anyone to see him like this.
Except Javert did. They were barely a foot apart and it was impossible that someone as observant as Javert had not noticed what Madeleine was desperately hoping to hide. Indeed the inspector's eyes roamed down the mayor's body, catching sight of what stirred beneath the fine fabric of Madeleine's trousers. Javert's lips twitched in satisfaction.
"Perhaps, Monsieur le Maire, I should repeat yesterday's report to you," he said, bringing his eyes back to Madeleine's. "In a more… private setting."
The inspector's devious smile widened ever so little when Madeleine gasped audiably.
"If you feel this can't wait," Madeleine began unsteadily.
Javert's eyes flit down for a moment. "With all due respect, Monsieur Le Maire, I do not think it can."
Struck by terror and elation both at once, Madeleine nodded slowly. Danger be damned, but he wanted this. He wanted this man to himself tonight. Even if Javert really was only going to repeat his report.
"In that case, Inspector, I'm sure you know the way to my office upstairs," he managed with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. "I will be there shortly."
The light of the ballroom sprinkled sparkles on the dark blue velvet of Javert's coat as the inspector made his usual curt bow in acknowledgement. In the one second that it lasted, Madeleine noted how all of the suit fit Javert's body perfectly, highlighting his splendid physique in all the right ways. It was an absolute delight.
As Javert turned and left the ballroom, Madeleine drank in the sight. He finished his glass in one go and then followed his inspector. He wasn't sure what to expect when he got to his office. The way Javert had downright played him, he was just as likely to get arrested as he was to get off.
Come what may, Madeleine decided he would not regret it.