"Courf... it isn't good, like... not at all."


When he comes home, Jehan lets himself fall down on to the bed, he curls up and pulls the blankets over his head. It's in that exact position Courfeyrac finds his boyfriend hours later. He slips behind him and combs his fingers trough the smaller mans hair. "I heard your voicemail at work. I'm sorry I couldn't come home earlier."

They stay in bed like that for two days. Crying, talking, kissing, sleeping, trying to find words to comfort the other. A circle that repeats itself multiple times until they have no other choice than to get out and face the world. "We'll get trough this together. I'm here for you."


"I'm scared Courf." Jehan whispers moments before they walk in to the doctors office.
He repeats the words again at the first day of treatment. "Shh, the prognosis is good. That's what the doctor said remember?" Courfeyrac holds Jehans hand and squeezes it. He's a natural optimist, but this time he's struggling to stay positive himself.

Slowly it becomes a pattern. Jehan comes back from treatment, Courfeyrac by his side. Not long after they come home Jehan is in a tight embrace with the toilet. His boyfriend holding his hair back, handing him a glass of water after, rubbing his back and drying the tears when he cries. Afterwards he puts him to bed and does everything he can to make Jehan feel even slightly better until the next appointment at the hospital.


Courfeyrac learns fast. How to braid Jehans hair, what crackers he can keep in after treatment on a good day, the way the ceiling of the hospital looks in detail, when to let their friends come over to the apartment and when to keep them outside, how to comfort Jehan after a treatment and how to do everything while going to work and trying to keep their little household running without too much help. He learns a lot of things a 26 year old shouldn't have to learn.


The day they hear treatment is successful, they celebrate with too expensive wine and staying up for over 24 hours. They've spend too much time in their bed and in their house, so they go out. Half the day they spend at the park having a picnic. They stare at the clouds, laugh, eat, enjoy their wine and each others company. For the first time in months they are genuinely happy. Courfeyrac wraps his arms around his boyfriend and for the first time in months he feels carefree.

The evening is spend with their friends at the café. When they walk out Jehan dances around the street and even Enjolras can't refuse as the poet pulls him along.

Later Jehan takes Courfeyrac by the hand to a silent, hidden spot just outside the city. It's 3 a.m. when they arrive, the sky is clear and they enjoy the silence for a while. That night they make love under the stars.


After those 24 hours it takes a while before everything goes back to normal again, for as far as you could ever call their life normal. Jehan starts writing again and Courfeyrac takes some extra hours at work to compensate for the absence during his boyfriends treatment. It takes couple of weeks before Jehan gets his energy back but slowly they start to go to Enjolras' meetings again and go to parties with their friends in the weekend. They take spontaneous trips out of the city and spend sunday mornings in bed making love. Within time their life starts to look like a life that belongs to two lovers in their twenties again.


Of course their luck doesn't last long. Just over a year after their good news Jehan gets the results of his annual check up. Courfeyrac holds his hand as the doctor tells them it's worse this time.

He needs to run more tests and when the results come in a week later, everything they feared becomes reality. The only thing they can do is prolong everything as much as possible. If they're lucky they still could have years. But years is still rather short when you're in your twenties.


That evening all of their friends are gathered at Courf and Jehans apartment. They share a bottle of wine and make a list of everything they still want to do together, a bucket list. The list is long, maybe too long for someone who starts his treatment the next day Jehan thinks when he puts the list at his bedside drawer. He doesn't mind though. He's going to fight and he won't give up until they've done every single thing on that list.


Two days later when Jehan is still in bed, not feeling well from treatment, Grantaire slides next to him with a big box. "We're going to get the first thing of your list today." He says and with a smile he offers Jehan a macaroon. They eat the entire box together and Jehan doesn't even care when he gets sick afterwards. These moments with his friends are too precious to care about how it affects his health. That night he can cross off the first thing on the list.

Trying macaroons


A couple of weeks in his new treatment Jehans hair starts to fall out. "Shave it off Courf." He says one night with tears in his eyes. Courfeyrac does as he is told, kissing his boyfriends bald head after. "I feel ugly." "You're still the most beautiful man I've ever seen."


In the next couple of months they start crossing more and more things of the bucket list. With his friends by his side Jehan spends every moment he feels slightly okay doing the craziest things. They go skinny dipping, take a nap in a bed at Ikea, visit a concert of their favorite band, cuddle puppies at the shelter, run up the wrong way on an escalator and that's just a top of the iceberg.


After eight months of treatment Jehan gets visibly weaker. His skin turns pale, almost grey. There are days he doesn't eat or doesn't even try to get out of bed and after a while he needs a wheelchair to move around.


One night Courfeyrac holds his boyfriend in his arms and wonders how someone can look so fragile and small. Jehan is the youngest one of their group of friends and he's the smallest one. In the very beginning they used to refer to him as their baby, but that ended soon when they got to know the power the little poet had inside of him. Now all Courfeyrac wanted was to pull him closer, hold him tighter, protect him from the world, but he can't. His boyfriend looks so breakable he barely dares to touch him.

The next morning when they lie awake embracing each other Courferac decides to ask the question that goes trough his mind for months already. "Can I add something to your bucket list?" Jehan looks at him quizzically, but nods. Courfeyrac steps out of their bed and scribbles something at the bottom of the largely crossed list. He hands it over to his boyfriend. Jehans eyes go to the bottom of the page right away and there it stands:

Get married.


When all the other things on the list are crossed, that's what they do. The ceremony is organized by their friends and it's just then Jehan realizes how well they actually know him and Courf. The day is perfect, even if he can't walk down the aisle by himself. Through the ceremony he can't stop crying, even when they both say "I do". A salty kiss follows and makes him the luckiest man on earth.

In between the ceremony and the party he needs to lay down for a couple of hours, but it's all worth it when Courfeyrac holds him in his arms at night at their first dance. "I love you, husband" he whispers in his ear, a smile on his face. He enjoys every single minute of that night. He talks with all of his friends and even takes a couple of bites from the cake.

When he lays in Courfeyracs arms at the end of the night he's too tired to make love to his husband. "I'm sorry." Courfeyrac kisses him softly. "Don't be." Together they cross the last thing on the bucket list. After that, it doesn't take long for Jehan to fall asleep.


After the wedding Jehan doesn't get out of bed anymore. He's too weak, too tired. Courfeyrac never leaves his side. Their friends visit whenever they can. They talk until they don't know what to say anymore.


"I love you forever, you know that right?" "You're my husband, of course I know. I love you too." A kiss follows. "Courf, I need you to promise me something." A pause "Sure, anything." "I know you said you'll love me forever, but please find someone else after me. Find someone who makes you happy, who loves you. Start a family. I know you want to. I would've done that with you if I could, but I can't, so please find someone. You don't have to do it right away, but when you think you're ready. Promise me." "I'll try." "I know you won't forget me, if that's what you're afraid of. Just make sure you get happy again." Jehan sweeps away a tear from his husbands face and places a soft kiss on his tearstained cheeks.


Three days later Courfeyrac wakes up knowing something is wrong. The room's too quiet. Tears stream down his face before he even dares to open his eyes.


The day of the funeral is a sunny spring day, exactly how Jehan likes them best. There are so many people at the crematory there are not enough seats. Everyone wants to say their last goodbyes to the little poet. Courfeyrac looks around the room when he stands up, Grantaire by his side. It's precisely how Jehan planned it in the months before his death. He walks to the coffin in the front, his legs trembling, Grantaire holding him close. The tears well up in his eyes when he looks at his husband laying down next to him. He grabs the paper out of his pocket, looking at it one more time before doing the last thing he promised to Jehan: reading the poem his husband wrote for this moment.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,

I am the softly falling snow.

I am the gentle showers of rain,

I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,

I am in the graceful rush

Of beautiful birds in circling flight,

I am the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,

I am in a quiet room.

I am in the birds that sing,

I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there. I do not die.


A/N: Thank you for reading this one shot. The poem isn't mine nor Jehans. It's a poem called "Do not stand at my grave and weep" by Mary Elizabeth Frye but I think it's very pretty and i considered it fitting for our little poet.

Disclaimer: Nope, not owning Les Mis.