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Jehan tugged the sleeves of his oversized sweater over his knuckles. The warm yarn was fraying a little (probably because of his habit of playing with the threads) and the baby blue and yellow strands had started to separate. A few petals had fallen from the flowers in his braid, sticking to his shoulders. With his other hand, he pulled up his floral pants over his hips then pulled down his sweater over the waistband. It had become a habit for Jehan to constantly pull up his pants, even when he didn't need to. Bahorel and Bossuet had told him to just wear a belt, but Jehan hated it. It always felt weird to him to have something that tight around his waist.
Jehan shifted from one foot to another uncomfortably. He had been standing against the wall of the Cafe, waiting for Courfeyrac and Combeferre to finish up their meeting with Enjolras for almost an hour now. He didn't want to awkwardly sit at the table with them while not contributing the meeting, so he instead stood to the side behind Courf's chair. Jehan didn't mind walking home to his, Courf's and Combeferre's apartment alone, but it was always nice to have some company. Then again, they didn't live in the best part of town and it was dark out, so he didn't really want to walk home alone.
"Enjolras, we can't just have these boring pamphlets to hand out! These are teenagers and college kids! They want color and explosions and fun things, not this boring looking crap," Courfeyrac yelled waving a stack of plain white papers in Enjolras's face.
"It's not about presentation, it's about the content," he replied dismissively. "If they want to join our cause, they'll have the sense to open it up and read what is inside."
"But Enjolras! What if they don't like reading? I mean, I don't like reading all that much either, we need something to catch their eye!"
"Courf's right, Enjolras. Presentation may not be everything, but it is important to lure people in. If we just had this pamphlet, they wouldn't cast a second glance at it," Combeferre said reasonably.
Enjolras looked irritated with both of them but Enjolras had always listened to and respected his best friend's opinion on anything. Even if they disagreed on a topic, Enjolras would at least consider his thoughts, something he would never do for anyone else. "Fine. Do whatever you want, just don't edit any of the text. DO NOT CHANGE IT AT ALL, COURF."
"Are you referring to my legendary April Fool's joke last year?"
"Yes I am. Do you know much credibility we lost over that? And how much time I wasted trying to fix it? I hate whoever taught you how to code HTML."
Courfeyrac snickered. "It was the greatest thing ever."
"YOU TURNED IT INTO A DATING PROFILE PAGE ABOUT YOURSELF."
"Hey! I featured you and 'Ferre too! Do you know long I had to dig through your computers to find those shirtless, beach pictures we took ages ago? You know how many chicks want you now?"
"You looked through our computers?" Enjolras asked menacingly, looking like he was about to stab Courfeyrac and severely mutilate him. It wasn't an unusual expression for Enjolras to have when he was annoyed by one of them.
Enjolras was about to explode when Combeferre stepped in and said, "Enjolras, I'll find a graphic designer and have them design a pamphlet for us. I have some friends in that department at the college and a lot of them owe me some favors. I'll text you some ideas later."
Enjolras deflated a little and nodded, grabbing his red hoodie off of the back of his chair and slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. "Meeting's adjourned," he said, glaring at Courfeyrac. He walked out of the back room of Cafe Musain with Combeferre trailing behind him, talking with him about some issues that he wanted to bring up at the next meeting.
Courfeyrac exhaled, relieved that he had lived another day while Enjolras was that angry with him. "Jehan!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, spinning around to face the poet. "Thanks for waiting for me!"
"It's fine. I didn't want to walk home by myself anyway," Jehan replied, smiling.
"So lets go home now. I've spent way too much time in this room today with too many boring people," Courfeyrac said.
Jehan laughed. "Don't let Enjolras hear you say that."
"Bah! Enjolras can do whatever he wants! I've had too much of his 'revolutionary fervor' for today," Courfeyrac said, reaching for Jehan's wrist to pull him along. When his fingers closed around Jehan's wrist, Jehan winced and let out a little cry.
"Jehan? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, it's nothing," Jehan said, grasping the sleeve of his sweater tightly, pulling it farther over his hand.
"...Jehan, what's wrong with your arm?"
"It's nothing! I just... I just bumped it a little."
Courf looked him straight in the eye, completely serious for once. "Jehan, what's wrong? You know you've always been a terrible liar. "
"I... I..." Jehan couldn't respond when those beautiful moss green eyes were staring at him. All that could run through his mind was how many poems he could write about the perfect shade of green that was Courfeyrac's eyes.
Courfeyrac gently laid Jehan's hand in his palm and pushed up the unraveling sleeve. As the pale skin of Jehan's arm was revealed, Courf inhaled sharply and his eyes widened. Finger shaped bruises marred the pale skin of Jehan's forearm. Crescent shaped cuts marked the sides of his wrist.
"What... What is this Jehan? Who did this to you?"
"It's... It's nothing Courf, I just accidentally bruised my arm. That's all it is," Jehan replied, feeling the lie staining his lips. He looked away guiltily. He couldn't bear to look at Courfeyrac when he lying straight to his face.
"Jehan, these are bruises from fingers, not just some random bump. Who did this to you?" Courfeyrac said, anger flaring up in his eyes.
Jehan tried to pull his arm away, but Courfeyrac kept a firm grasp on his forearm, but not hard enough to hurt him. Jehan bit his bottom lip and fingered the hem of his sweater nervously with his free hand. Jehan knew Courfeyrac wasn't stupid, he was extremely intelligent (even if he didn't always show it) and it was inevitable that he would find out the truth.
"It's Montparnasse, isn't it?" Courfeyrac finally said after a moment's thought. "He did this to you, didn't he?" Courfeyrac asked, eyes gentle once again as he watched Jehan's face for a reaction.
Jehan flinched just a little at the name but Courfeyrac knew the poet well enough enough to notice it. "It is him! I'm going to kill that motherfucker!" He yelled angrily, dropping Jehan's hand and starting to turn toward the door, like he was going to hunt the man down this instant.
"No, no! Courf, can we..." Jehan reached out and grabbed Courf's sleeve. "Can we just go home right now? I-I just want to go home," he whimpered, pouting just a little.
Courfeyrac hesitated, his hands clenched in fists, eager for a fight but his expression softened as he nodded and left the cafe with Jehan behind him. On the short walk home, Courf pulled Jehan close to his warm body protectively, fingers lightly grasping the back of his sweater. Jehan sighed happily as he took hold of Courfeyrac's belt loop familiarly. He could smell the light scent of Courf's favorite cologne pulsing off of him and the faint scent of the caramel macchiato he just had. Courfeyrac's phone suddenly wolf whistled (his unique text alert that always made girls glare or giggle at him whenever his phone went off) and he fished his phone out of his pocket with his free hand. "It's 'Ferre," he said, glancing at the text. "He's gonna be home later. He's at Enjy's place, discussing some other ABC stuff."
"He's gonna be missing my delicious cooking then," Jehan said, grinning and inadvertently leaning closer to Courfeyrac.
Courfeyrac chuckled but there was an worried undertone to his usually easygoing laugh. Jehan knew that he was worried about him and Jehan wanted that to stop. He didn't want Courfeyrac to be worried about him over something stupid. "Well, I'm glad I'm gonna be home for that. Do you need to buy anything for your promised, delicious late night meal?" Courf asked as they passed a small supermarket.
"Nah, I'm okay." Jehan replied.
On the rest of their way home, Courfeyrac was subdued, not energetic and hyper like he usually was. Jehan tried to make conversation but it was awkward and Courfeyrac never answered with more than a few words. As soon as they reached their apartment and Jehan unlocked the door, Courfeyrac entered after him and shut and locked it. Jehan headed towards the kitchen to start cooking and Courfeyrac followed behind him.
Jehan took a cookbook off of the little shelf next to the counter. He flipped through the dog-eared pages, stopping occasionally to skim through one of the recipes.
"Does this sound good?" Jehan would stop and ask Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac sat at the stained dining table tapping away at some games or websites on his phone. He responded cheerily to everything Jehan said. Jehan was relieved that Courf was happy again. He had probably already forgotten about the conversation they had in the back room Musain and Jehan was glad that he had taken his mind off of Jehan's silly problems.
"Jehan," Courfeyrac said quietly when Jehan paused to read through the ingredients on one of the dishes.
"Yeah?" Jehan said, looking up from the cookbook resting on his arms.
"Are you bruised anywhere else besides your arms?"
Jehan stiffened, almost dropping the book. "N-No. Why would you ask?" He was supposed to stop Courfeyrac from worrying. Why did he keep asking these questions that forced Jehan to lie to him?
Courfeyrac looked hurt as he stepped closer to Jehan. "Jehan, why are you lying to me?"
Jehan flinched away from the sadness in Courfeyrac's eyes. "I-I-I'm not," he stuttered.
"God, you're an awful liar, always have been," he said, smiling sadly. "Why won't you tell me?"
Jehan fiddled with the cover of the book he held in his hands. "I don't want you to worry about something stupid like that, Courf," he said timidly. "It's really nothing."
"Goddammit Jehan!" Courfeyrac suddenly yelled, causing Jehan to jump. "Of course I'm gonna worry about you! This isn't 'something stupid'! You're getting hurt and of course I have to do something! I lo —" Courfeyrac stumbled over his words slightly. "I care about you so much Jehan!" Courfeyrac exclaimed.
Jehan's breath hitched when Courfeyrac tripped over his words. Was he going to say...? But then he moved on and Jehan knew that it was just his stupid brain jumping to conclusions. Of course Courfeyrac wouldn't love him. Courfeyrac could do so much better and he knew it.
"Do you get it now Jehan?" Courfeyrac asked, placing his hands on Jehan's shoulders gently.
Jehan nodded and wordlessly pushed Courfeyrac away from him. "J-Jehan?" he asked uncertainly.
Jehan gulped nervously and peeled off his baby blue and yellow sweater. He held the mass of soft yarn tightly in his hands. He stared intently at the tiled floor because he didn't want to see the look of disgust and pity that was sure to be on Courf's face. He would shove Jehan away and tell him to get out. He would never look at Jehan again.
And Jehan wouldn't blame him.
….
Courfeyrac watched as Jehan stripped off his huge sweater. He clutched it tightly in his hands and stared at the floor, refusing to look at Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac scanned over his bare torso, trying to hide his shock.
Dark hickeys ran from Jehan's collarbone to the end of his shoulder. Scratches curved out from around his back to his side and shoulder. A faint, almost healed bruise spread across the left side of Jehan's stomach. The worst though, were the multitude of black bruises peeking out from the waistband of Jehan's favorite floral pants. They wrapped around his slim hips, a dark stain on his ivory skin.
Courfeyrac dragged his eyes back to Jehan's delicate face. His eyes were tearing up. He was about to cry.
"Jehan -" he started.
"I-It's okay, Courf. I can leave now. I know you don't want to have me with you here, especially when I can't even defend myself." Jehan rammed his sweater over his head and swiped his arm over his eyes. "I'm... I'm just gonna go now. See you around." Jehan ran towards the door but Courf was faster. He grabbed Jehan's shoulder and spun him around to face him. Jehan's bottom lip trembled, and he was trying his best not to start bawling. Jehan had never been a graceful crier. He always cried like a two year old who had just lost his toy and he was just as adorable as one too.
"Jehan! What are you doing? Why are you crying?" Courf asked, bending down slightly like he was talking to a small child (which was what Jehan was like right then).
Jehan sniffed and hiccuped uncontrollably. "I-I-I didn't want you to worry 'bout me. I tried to get you not to worry, b-but you wouldn't listen and then I had to lie to you but I hate lying especially to you but you wouldn't believe me and I can't refuse you anything," Jehan rambled. "And if you keep trying to protect me you're gonna get hurt 'cause M-Montparnasse hurts people and even kills them and I can't have you do that. I can't even protect myself a-and..." At this point, Jehan was sobbing and hiccuping too much to be coherent and instead covered his face in his baggy sleeves.
Courfeyrac gently scooped up Jehan and brought him over to the green couch in their living room. Jehan immediately curled up in the corner, tucking his knees to his chest and hiding his face in them, his long, strawberry and honey hair falling over his legs. Oreo, Courfeyrac's fat black and white cat, wandered over to Jehan. Jehan picked him up and squeezed him tightly, burying his face in his fur.
"Jehan."
He didn't look up, just continued sniffling in Oreo's fat rolls and fluff.
"Jehan, please look at me."
Jehan sniffed and looked up at Courf. His round, blue eyes were red from crying and his freckled nose running. His pale lashes held his tears like diamonds hanging from a string.
"W-What?" Jehan asked, wrapping his arms around himself like he was expecting Courf to hit him or something. Instead, Courfeyrac leaned in and embraced him gently, pressing his lips to Jehan's sweet smelling hair. "C-Courf?" His arms fell and Oreo almost fell off the couch but just landed next to Jehan, mewling indignantly.
"Jehan, don't cry. Please don't cry. Jehan, you don't understand. I want to worry about you, I need to worry about you because you are precious to me. I don't want to lose you or have you getting hurt. I want to protect you even though you usually don't need it, but when you do, I want to be the one you call. I want to be your hero."
Jehan whimpered in response to that. Courf lightly brushed Jehan's soft hair behind his ear and pushed off some of the fallen flowers still sticking to his sweater.
"B-But... I can't let you do that Courf. I should be able to take care of myself, it's not your responsibility," he said softly, burying his face in Courfeyrac's chest.
Courfeyrac just murmured to him quietly and rubbed his back comfortingly. Jehan slowly but surely started to fall asleep. As soon as his breath started to deepen and his grip relaxed on Courfeyrac's shirt, the door creaked open slowly and Combeferre came in holding a large cup of coffee and a box of donuts.
"Hey Courf, I got some donuts for you guys," he said waving the paper box a little. Courfeyrac shushed him while holding a finger to his lips. Combeferre glanced at Jehan who was now laying on Courfeyrac's lap with Daffodil, Jehan's tabby kitten, and Alfie, Courfeyrac's tan cat, coiled around his legs. Combeferre nodded and tiptoed to the coffee table and set down the box of donuts. He then placed a light kiss on Jehan's head before going back to his room, taking a huge gulp of his coffee and a fat textbook off of the overflowing bookshelf in the living room.
Courfeyrac continued to run his fingers through Jehan's mess of golden locks and flowers. He murmured quietly in his sleep and dropped his arm over Courfeyrac's knee. Daffodil crawled over his thigh and flopped onto Jehan's stomach. Courfeyrac smiled at the little creatures settled on the sofa with him and gradually began to drift off to dreamland with them.