Author's Note: This is my first LM fanfic. Please leave as much constructive criticism as you would like. I'd desperately like to improve.
Etienne Combeferre had never been a heavy sleeper; therefore, the thunk of a book falling from his bookshelf was enough to jerk him from slumber.
He squinted into the darkness for a few moments before remembering the glasses lying on the table next to the bed. The murky darkness morphed into clearer shapes: a candle sitting on the desk, the blond boy dressed only in his long shirt facing the bookshelf opposite the bed.
"Enjolras?" Combeferre asked tiredly, running a hand through his sleep-tousled dark hair. "What are you doing?"
Enjolras had stiffened at the sound of his name. "I was merely looking for a book of yours. It's nothing, go back to sleep."
"Enjolras, it's a little late to be writing a speech."
"I wasn't writing a speech." Enjolras defended himself, still facing the bookshelf. "I was searching for a textbook."
"A textbook?" Combeferre repeated slowly, not quite comprehending.
"A…medical textbook." Enjolras confessed, still not turning around.
"Are you all right, cheri?" Combeferre asked his friend, concern slipping into his voice.
"I have a slight…problem." Enjolras admitted. "I had hoped to find a solution in one of your books, without having to wake you."
"Well, I'm awake now, so if I can be of any assistance…" Combeferre trailed off, not knowing how readily his friend would accept the offer of help.
"Yes. Er…" Enjolras cleared his throat and slowly turned around.
It took all of Combeferre's self-restraint to not laugh at the tent Enjolras' hardened length had made in his nightshirt.
"I woke up from a dream and it had just…appeared." Enjolras said, ashamedly.
"Oh, cheri, it's not some hideous disease. It's perfectly normal." Combeferre said with a smile.
"It is?" Enjolras asked quietly.
"Oui, mon ami." Combeferre nodded, smiling.
"Well then, what do I do to get rid of it?"
"You must...well…as odd as this sounds, you have to stroke it."
"What?"
"Stroke it. Cheri, do you know why it appeared?"
"Non." Enjolras slowly shook his head.
Combeferre sighed. "You do know what happens between men and women?"
"Oui." Enjolras said defiantly. "I'm not a child, Etienne."
Combeferre eyed the tent again. "Non. You are not. Well, in order for relations to happen between a man and a woman, what has happened to you is necessary."
Enjolras nodded slowly. "But…why does one want…" He gestured to his crotch, a blush flooding his cheeks.
"Because when one lies with a woman and 'makes that thing go away' as you put it, it feels good."
"I see." Enjolras paused. He started to look at his feet in embarrassment, but noticed the thing in his way and hastily looked up instead. "So to get rid of it I just…" He looked at Combeferre, his blue eyes very confused.
"Stroke it." Combeferre said, trying to sound reassuring.
"Oui." Enjolras said. The blush deepened. "Could you…help me?" He asked.
"Help you?"
"Please? I don't know what to do." Enjolras admitted.
Combeferre sighed. Enjolras was definitely upset, if he were asking for help with something like this. Besides, Combeferre thought. If I want to become a medical professional, I should be able to help with problems. "D'accord." He said aloud. "Come over here and kneel on the bed."
Enjolras awkwardly followed his friend's instructions.
"Now, pull your shirt up." Enjolras obeyed.
Combeferre took a deep breath. He was suddenly experiencing second thoughts. He glanced up at Enjolras' face and the scared look he found there. It's just Augustin. He thought to himself. Your friend. And he needs your help. "Are you ready?"
Enjolras nodded.
Combeferre wrapped a hand around Enjolras' length and started stimulating his friend. Enjolras gasped at the sudden contact.
"Do you see what I am doing?" Combeferre asked.
"Oui." Enjolras breathed.
"Good. Now you try."
Enjolras reluctantly wrapped his own hand around his length and mimicked Combeferre's actions.
Combeferre, not quite knowing where to look, examined his friend's face. The blond hair was disheveled. The blush had not quite left his face. The blue eyes were closed. Enjolras was biting his lip.
"'Tienne…I can't do it." Enjolras gasped. "Please?" He looked at Combeferre through half-lidded eyes.
Combeferre once more took hold of Enjolras' length and started vigorously stroking him. It did not take many of Combeferre's experienced strokes to finish Enjolras.
"Nrgh." Enjolras came with a strangled groan onto Combeferre's shirt.
Combeferre wiped his hand on his already soiled shirt. Enjolras concentrated on breathing deeply, steadying himself on the bed. Neither man spoke for several minutes.
After Enjolras regained the ability of coherent thought, he realized just what he had done. He blushed and stammered out an apology.
"I-I'm sorry, 'Tienne."
"It's quite all right, Cheri. That's what is supposed to happen."
"Oh."
The next few minutes passed in silence. Neither man knew what to say.
Enjolras again broke the silence. "Merci, 'Tienne. For helping me. With my problem."
"You're welcome, Cheri." Combeferre smiled. "You should get some sleep."
"Oui." Enjolras slipped of Combeferre's bed and out of the room. "Bon soir."
"Bon soir, cheri."
Combeferre was left alone in a dirty shirt, pondering why on earth he now had a "problem" of his own.