A/N: This is the first time I have ever written an M rated anything, so please be gentle. I am also a straight woman who knows nothing about gay men having sex, besides what I read in other fics. This first chapter is a build up to what is to come in later chapters, you know, background information. I plan to try to incorporate humor in this story because of the sensitive nature.
Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserables.
Chapter One: Roommates (this chapter is mostly smut)
All of his friends know that Valentin Courfeyrac is a player. Since reaching puberty, he has flirted with countless women and many men as well. For the past two years, Courfeyrac has lived with a close friend of his, Jean Prouvaire.
Jehan, as he was more commonly referred to, was a young poet, just one year below Courfeyrac at their University. The junior had strawberry blonde hair and was obsessed with flowers. Their apartment always had at least three fresh bouquets at any given time. Jehan braided fallen petals and occasionally whole flowers into his hair.
Both men were members of a student group with no official title. The group met several times a week to discuss politics, to study, or simply to hang out and get drunk. They often went to a café within walking distance of both the university campus and everyone's living quarters. The café was called Les Amis d l'Abaisses (the friends of the poor) due to the fact that the owner, Jean Valjean and his wife, Fantine, donated their tips and a portion of the funds to homeless shelters throughout Paris and neighboring cities. One of their most loyal customers was Julien Enjolras, the so called leader of the student political group, who was the reason the men held their meetings at the café. Because of this, the group of students was referred to as "the friends of the ABC."
Jehan and Courfeyrac have been members of the group since they started at the university. Being that they were both open about their sexuality (Jehan was as gay as they come while Courfeyrac was bisexual,) the men had helped get Enjolras and Grantaire together. Aiden Grantaire was an alcoholic art student, who only attended meetings to stare at Enjolras. Around the time that Courfeyrac moved in with Jehan, the group decided to get their leader and their drunkard together by playing spin the bottle, rigged so Enjolras and Grantaire would have to kiss. Neither of the before mentioned men wished to spin first, so Courfeyrac spun the bottle, which landed on his new roommate. To Courfeyrac's surprise, Jehan's lips were as soft as a flower petal.
Next to spin was Eponine Thenardier, a beautiful young brunette with a shitty home life. Her spin landed on Laurent Combeferre, a medical student who was also Enjolras' roommate and closest friend. Finally, Enjolras agreed to spin and all but Grantaire jumped away from their circle. To their shock, the bottle still didn't land on Grantaire. Jean Valjean had entered the backroom where the meetings were held, intent on getting some light bulbs. Thinking the boys were making room for him to get the box on the other side of the room, Valjean crossed the circle and the bottle landed on him.
"Well, I don't think that was part of the plan," Grantaire smirked. "Why don't we say to hell with the bottle and kiss?"
Less than one month later, Enjolras was moving into an apartment with Grantaire. Combeferre was not alone, however. The day after Enjolras moved out, a rather bruised Eponine moved in, along with her younger brother, Gavroche. Their sister, Azmela, wished to stay with their parents, and as she was the only child in the family not to talk back to their father, it was decided that she could stay.
As for Courfeyrac and Jehan, Courfeyrac stopped flirting with complete strangers and focused all his charm on the little poet. There had been a few more kisses after the game, but it was almost a full year before the two took things to the next level.
After one year of not having sex, Courfeyrac seemed to be in withdrawal. For some reason, Jehan always seemed to be around, but only wanted to cuddle. Finally, Jehan had to leave for a writing class while Courfeyrac had nothing scheduled. He had checked Jehan's schedule for days and knew that the class lasted for two hours. He waited until he saw the poet's car turn the corner, before racing to his room, shedding his pants on the way.
Strangely, Courfeyrac had never been good at pleasuring himself. He always felt it was perverse, he just couldn't imagine someone else's hand down there. Besides, a hand was never enough, he needed a mouth to get the job done. However, the few times he managed to get close and found his hands covered in his own pre-cum, he learnt that he was rather loud. Nothing is more humiliating than having a parent knocking on your door, asking what the hell you are doing.
With Jehan's face still in his mind, Courfeyrac began to get the desired effect. It wasn't enough, but the noises he was making were inhuman. And loud. So loud that he didn't hear his cell buzzing; signifying a text, one that came from Jehan, telling him that his class was canceled. So loud that he didn't hear the apartment door open, nor did he hear Jehan's snort when said man picked up Courfeyrac's jeans, which were lying next to the television.
Courfeyrac did, however, hear the gasp from his doorway. Imagine Jehan's shock when he walked through the slightly opened door to find his roommate, writhing in bed, hands on his dick, screaming in ecstasy. There is no telling who was more embarrassed.
Jehan was the first to break the silence. "What kind of porn are you watching?"
If possible, Courfeyrac blushed harder. "Uh… I was masturbating," he replied stupidly.
"No shit. Do you always sound like that?" Despite the awkwardness, Jehan was struggling not to laugh.
Pulling the sheets to his chest, Courfeyrac looked away. "I've never been very good at it. It's hard doing it to yourself. At least for me. It's just been almost a year since I had sex and if I didn't shove my dick into something, I was going to explode," he mumbled to the lamp on his nightstand.
Jehan blinked before inching closer to the bed. "Why didn't you say something?"
"What the hell would I have said? What would you have done?"
"I would have given you something to shove your dick into."
With that, Jehan through himself onto Courfeyrac. It was just like any other make out session, except Courfeyrac was naked from the waist down. With a jerk, Jehan pulled the bed sheet away and took his boyfriend in his mouth.
After close to a year, the little poet's mouth was almost enough to send Courfeyrac over the edge. When he began thrusting into the blonde's mouth, it occurred to him that he might actually choke the younger man. Sitting up, he asked Jehan, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
With a smirk, Jehan responded with a swirl of his tongue. Courfeyrac flopped back with a cry and let the poet work him until he shot down his throat.
Both men panted as Jehan lay down next to the larger man. With slow movements, Jehan began to unbutton Courfeyrac's shirt. Reaching over, Courfeyrac undid the other boy's jeans and worked both jeans and boxers off Jehan's lean body. Both their shirts soon joined them on the floor.
With a sudden movement, Courfeyrac straddled Jehan and pressed their lips together. As he deepened the kiss, Jehan ran his fingers through the others dark curly hair. When Courfeyrac began nibbling his way down Jehan's chest and explored his belly button with his tongue, Jehan scratched down his neck and back. "Please…" he begged, "Please…Valentin… Take me."
Not needing to be asked twice, Courfeyrac reached into his nightstand and pulled out a condom and a tube of lubricant. Jehan briefly considered asking why the hell he kept lube in the drawer next to his bed, especially when Jehan himself sleeps on the other side of the wall. Before he could ask, though, he felt Courfeyrac fingering his entrance, slipping a finger into his hole. Jehan gasped and closed his eyes as his partner inserted a second and third finger. "Am I hurting you?" Courfeyrac asked.
Jehan fought back tears. He can't remember the last time any man asked him that during this act. "No. It's just been more than one year for me. At least three."
Courfeyrac leaned forward and pressed his lips to Jehan's before removing his fingers. Grinning as the poet sighed against his lips; Courfeyrac lubed up his member and gently entered Jehan.
The beautifully soft noises Jehan made were completely different from Courfeyrac's loud screams of pleasure. At one point, one of Courfeyrac's thrusts hit the other man's prostate. Up until this point, Jehan has been meeting the various slow thrusts with even slower one's of his own; but once his sweet spot was hit, little Jean Prouvaire jerked so violently he nearly knocked them both off the bed. His violent thrust was matched with his loudest sex noise yet; a breathy "Oh!"
Rubbing Courfeyrac's back gently, he whispered in his ear, "That's it… that's it. Oh, please… I'm so close… Val, faster…"
Obediently, Courfeyrac speed up his thrusts until finally, Jehan came with a breathy, drawn out moan, not much louder than any of his other noises. Almost as if showing off for the younger, soft spoken man, Courfeyrac's orgasm was accompanied by a loud scream.
Panting, both men laid side by side in the small bed. The sheets and pillows were littered with flower petals from Jehan's unraveled braid. Running his fingers through the red- blonde hair, Courfeyrac snuggled against his boyfriend and whispered, "Are you always this quiet?"
He expected Jehan to giggle. To give him a little kiss and to cuddle up to him. Instead, Jehan turned to Courfeyrac with a look of shock and horror. In turn, Courfeyrac gawked at him. Doesn't he know I'm teasing? He thought in a daze.
Suddenly, the poet beamed at his partner. "I guess it's just in my nature!" With a quick kiss, Jehan left to get a washcloth to clean his cum off both their stomachs.