A/N: sorry this took so long. There was so much I wanted to put into this chapter. If there are any mistakes, please let me know. I promise, things are going to pick up by the end of this chapter and definitely in the next chapter. This chapter will be longer than the last one. Again, this chapter will have smut. Enjoy!

Chapter Two: With this ring…

Over the next several weeks, their relationship strengthened. When they weren't in class, Jehan and Courfeyrac discussed their plans for the future. Jehan wished to become a famous poet and also to open his own flower shop. He already worked part-time in the local flower boutique, which was where he got all of their bouquets for their apartment. Courfeyrac simply stated that he was just living life day he wished to find a special somebody to spend his life with.

About four months after they first had sex, Courfeyrac realized how important the blonde poet was. He had sex with countless men and women, it was always the same. A one night stand in a sleazy motel room, where he fucks the whore of the day and goes home and tosses something in the microwave. Occasionally he runs into the same person some other time and they mess around. But with Jehan, they didn't have sex; for the first time in his life, Courfeyrac made love.

In that time, the two men sold their single beds and bought a king sized bed. They put it in Jehan's room (it was the largest and had its own bathroom.) Courfeyrac's room was converted into an indoor garden for Jehan.

Things began heating up for the two around Valentine's Day. On February 10th Courfeyrac returned to their apartment after ending his shift at the university book store. As one of the few men working there, he was required to stack the shelves with textbooks and other heavy items. It wasn't too bad, but after hauling textbooks around for hours at least 4 times a week, Courfeyrac usually came home stiff. On this day, Jehan took one look at the pained grimace on his boyfriends face and grinned. "Tough day at work?"

"Do you have any idea how heavy those damn textbooks are? You carry flowers and pots all day, I carry two dozen 5 pound textbooks at a time!" That said, Courfeyrac groaned and laid his head on the kitchen table with a dull thunk.

Jehan washed his hands before rubbing his boyfriend's aching shoulders. "If you get into bed and take your clothes off, I'll give you a deep tissue massage."

Not having to be told twice, Courfeyrac jumped up and with a quick peck on Jehan's lips, he raced to their room. The poet entered shortly after to find his boyfriend face down on the bed, ass naked and dozing off. Grabbing some massage oil from the bathroom (he had wanted to give Courfeyrac a massage for some time now,) he sat on the bed and began rubbing the oil into his partners back.

Jehan first rubbed his neck and shoulders, causing Courfeyrac to turn his head so he was in a more comfortable position. Smiling as his boyfriend moaned in pleasure, Jehan moved further down his back, pressing his fingers and thumb into various spots on Courfeyrac's aching back, causing it to crack more than once. As he ran the heels of his palms up and down the older man's spine, Jehan let his glance travel to the other man's rear end.

Since their first night together, Jehan has been thinking about how best to bring up the subject of him taking Courfeyrac, instead of the other way around. He has plenty of reasons for not saying anything; he enjoys the foreplay too much to change positions, Courfeyrac is perfect and makes him feel safer than he has with any other man. He has also never topped before, always the bottom, never in charge. He has no idea what to do.

He must have stopped moving his hands, because Courfeyrac rolled over with a grunt and sat next to Jehan. "You're covered in paint."

The poet laughed; "Didn't you notice all my potted flowers in the front room? I invited Grantaire over while you were at work. We painted my garden room to look just like the sky." He snuggled closer to Courfeyrac. "I only just managed to get R out of here about half an hour before you came home. Poor thing was in withdrawal, didn't drink a drop all day. I convinced him to go home to Enjolras to experience sober sex."

Jehan stood and stretched. "I'm a bit stiff too. I'll go take a shower. Maybe we can do something when I get back?"

The last part came out as a nervous question, to which Courfeyrac answered with a suggestive wink. As a beaming poet raced to the bathroom, Courfeyrac got the supplies from the night stand. When he heard the water running, the brunette reached under the bed to retrieve his school bag and shoved a small box under his thigh.

Ten minutes later, the now clean poet entered the room, with a towel wrapped around his thin waist. He let out a frightened yelp when he was grabbed from behind and shoved against the wall. Jehan only began breathing when he felt Courfeyrac's familiar lips against his own. As his partner deepened the kiss, Jehan felt Courfeyrac's hands resting on his towel. Opening his eyes, he took in the questioning glance of his boyfriend. Jehan pulled away and gasped, "Force of habit."

Slowly, Courfeyrac knelt down before Jehan, eye level with his crotch. Jehan felt his breathe pick up, he has only received a handful of blow jobs in his life. All were unpleasant, but that may have been because of the man giving them… No! Jehan ordered himself. Courfeyrac is not him, Courfeyrac would never hurt me. Don't think about him. Think only about Courfeyrac.

At this point, Courfeyrac was still on one knee and the towel was still in place. The only difference was the box in Courfeyrac's hands; opened to show the beautiful diamond ring. "Jean Prouvaire, will you marry me?"

Vision blurred with tears, Jehan knelt down so he was eye to eye with Courfeyrac. "Yes, Valentin Courfeyrac. I will marry you." Their engagement was sealed with a passionate kiss, before the poet lifted his new fiancée and carried him bridal style to their bed, leaving his towel on the floor with the engagement ring.

This time, Jehan straddled the larger man's body, kissing every available piece of flesh. Courfeyrac was never a big fan of foreplay; but as Jehan loved the taunting build up to the ultimate pleasure, he obliged and always took his time. This time, with Jehan kissing his body, licking and sucking the parts that brought out the strongest reactions from Courfeyrac, marking them as his own; he had to admit the teasing was painfully enjoyable. After what felt like half an hour, but was more likely five or ten minutes at the most, Courfeyrac cried out in joy when he felt the heat of his fiancée's mouth surround his cock.

Jehan had made his decision. As he worked Courfeyrac with his mouth, Jehan nervously lubed up his fingers, before it occurred to him to ask for permission. He waited until he tasted Courfeyrac's slightly salty pre-cum in his mouth before removing pulling away. "Valentin? Would it be alright if I… took you?"

For a moment, both men gawked at each other. Courfeyrac because he had never been taken before and had been told on several occasions that while it is not painful with lubricant, there is some discomfort; Jehan because Courfeyrac looked almost frightened. Eventually, Courfeyrac beamed at his fiancée, "Of course!"

Taking a deep breathe, Jehan moved off the brunette to allow Courfeyrac to adjust himself for both men to approach this new experience with comfort. Glancing at his fingers to make sure they were properly slick, Jehan gently inserted his index finger into Courfeyrac's entrance. The larger man struggled to suppress a gasp. He finally understood what other men have told him about anal, and this was only one finger. Courfeyrac felt his pulse quicken at the thought of having Jehan inside of him, when he felt a second finger worming in beside the first.

As the fingers scissor and move, one brushed against Courfeyrac's prostate. With a sharp cry, Courfeyrac thrusts at the new and thrilling experience. At that point, Jehan inexplicably froze. He was perfectly aware that his partner had cried out in joy, as opposed to pain. But still, he felt inexperienced and feared he would do something wrong. He just wanted this to be perfect. "I'm…I'm sorry Val…I can't…"

Courfeyrac blinked in shock as he felt Jehan's shaking fingers pull out of him. Staring at his fiancée who had curled into himself, he crawled towards Jehan and held the trembling boy's arms. The poet tensioned under the man's touch as if afraid of being beaten. Pressing their foreheads together, Courfeyrac whispered, "Its okay, love. You should know that I myself have never been taken. I can talk you through it if you'd like."

"Are you sure?" Jehan asked.

Smiling, Courfeyrac pulled the poet into a passionate kiss. Forgetting about the lubricant on his fingers, Jehan ran his fingers through his fiancée's curly brown hair. Moaning, the more experienced man opened his mouth to permit the younger to deepen the kiss. When Jehan slid his tongue into Courfeyrac's opened mouth, he was surprised to feel the latter's lips close around his tongue. As Courfeyrac gently sucked on Jehan's tongue, he pulled the younger man on top of him until the poet was again straddling him. With one last nervous glance, Jehan slid his fingers between Courfeyrac's legs and started where he left off, with two fingers.

"Ah…Wait…Stop…" Courfeyrac cried out in shocke and extreme discomfort, bordering on pain.

Jumping back in shock, Jehan realized that while he was playing with Courfeyrac's hair, he must have wiped off the lubricant. His stomach turned at the thought of causing his Valentin any pain. He knew from … experience… that being taken without lube was painful. "Oh… Oh God! I… I am so… so sorry! I… I didn't know!"

Courfeyrac again found himself gawking at his stammering fiancée. Jehan was back to cowering at the end of the bed, head hung in shame. Why the hell is he so ashamed? It was an honest mistake. Courfeyrac wondered in a daze.

"Jehan, sweetheart, come here. It's alright." The larger man whispered in a soothing tone, arms stretched out towards his trembling lover. "You did nothing wrong. I'm not mad."

With the air of a beaten dog, Jehan anxiously leaned into Courfeyrac's warm body. "I swear, it will never happen again." The blonde murmured against the brunette's neck.

The larger man laid the two of them on the bed; soothing Jehan's damp long hair with one hand, rubbing gentle circles into his arm with the other. "It's alright. Calm down. Just rest."

The two men didn't make love that night, they just slept in a comforting embrace.

Three Days Later…

The student group was meeting at the café the night before Valentine's Day. In celebration of the holiday, they were just hanging out. Valjean and Fantine were busy, serving customers partying before the big romantic day. The café closes at 11:00 pm, but they agreed to let the students stay and party; mainly because Fantine's daughter, Cosette, was dating Marius Pontmercy, another member of the political group.

Just as the normal customers were leaving, Jehan and Courfeyrac entered the café, holding hands. "Hey guys!" Jehan giggled.

"What are you so giggly about?" asked Fantine as she entered the back room with Cosette just behind her.

"Oh! Nothing really! Just…" Jehan breathed, running his left hand through his hair, letting the light catch his diamond engagement ring.

The room erupted in squeals and applause. Fantine and Cosette raced out to tell Valjean the good news. Forgetting about shooing the lingering customers out, the three returned with champagne and tequila along with glasses appropriate for both drinks. "On the house for the happy couple!" Valjean exclaimed and was met with more cheering.

After serving the students and remaining customer's glasses of champagne, the owners settled in to talk with the group of friends. Enjolras was in the center of the room, openly glaring at his boyfriend, Grantaire, who has been given his own bottle of tequila by Valjean, who was sick of being interrupted by the man for another shot. Combeferre, Eponine, and Gavroche (who was given a shot glass full of champagne) were telling Valjean all about their upcoming trip to Disney World. The siblings were also bringing Azmela, who planned to move in after the trip, due to the fact that she was getting strange looks from both Montparnasse and her father.

Cosette and Marius were snuggling in the corner, stealing kisses from each other. Fantine was talking with Musichetta, and Jehan about what the poet should wear to his wedding. "You can borrow my wedding gown! Then we can curl your hair and weave some flowers in it!" Musichetta giggled.

Two months ago, she and Lucien Joly got married. In turn, their shared boyfriend, Antoine Lesgle legally changed his name to Bossuet Joly. The odd couple was very happy together and were expecting their first child (Bossuet's condom broke shortly after the honeymoon.) The men were now making out besides Cosette and Marius.

The thought of himself in a wedding gown was too much for Jehan. He immediately slipped into gay, something he only does when he is very drunk, accompanied by an exaggerated lisp and flamboyant hand movements. "Of course, darling! Uh! I just hope I fit into it. Do you think I have the figure, baby?" He turned to Courfeyrac, who was no longer behind him.

"Valentin? Sweety, where are you?" Scanning the café, the tipsy poet found him sitting on a bar stool, with a half dressed woman on his lap.

Immediately sobered by the sight, Jehan stormed across the silent café. The students and few remaining customers gawked silently as Jehan practically shoved the woman off his fiancée and pulled Courfeyrac to his feet. "Valentin Courfeyrac! What the hell are you doing?"

The man in question slurred in response. "Isn't obvious? Ya don't have t-time for me, sh-so I f-found someone else."

Looking around, Jehan couldn't help but lower his voice, desperate to keep the conversation private. "Courfeyrac, we are engaged! Tomorrow is Valentine's Day! How dare you! Is this about the other night?"

The other man bristled before shouting at full volume. "This isn't about who takes who! You're… you're… pathetic!" He finished weakly.

At this point Bahorel, Enjolras, and Valjean were making their way to the arguing couple, in case things got ugly. Jehan glanced over his shoulder and held up his hand, signaling for the men to hold their ground. "I'm pathetic. Really? I'm pathetic. Well, at least I'm not an insecure bastard that has to fuck anything with a hole! You think you got the shitty end of the deal? I'm engaged to a fucking slut!"

None of the students have ever heard Jehan shouting at anyone in such a way. By now, the girl Courfeyrac had been flirting with had fled the building, followed by all lingering customers, leaving the students and owners to witness the argument. The silence in the room was broken by a sharp slapping sound.

Bahorel, Enjolras, and Valjean jumped into action. The women and Gavroche gasped the second Courfeyrac's hand came in contact with Jehan's face. Again, the now shaking poet stopped the other men from fighting his battle. Courfeyrac was holding his hand; the sting in his right palm was enough to bring him to his senses. Struggle as he might, he could not tear his brown eyes from Jehan's sharp blue one's, eyes swimming with fear and pain along with other emotions.

Courfeyrac was snapped from his gaze when he felt a soft hand he recognized as Jehan's pressing something small into his still stinging palm. Looking down, he saw the diamond ring he had given the poet; the one Jehan hasn't taken off for three days. Courfeyrac looked back into the poet's now frozen blue eyes. "I'm done Courfeyrac. Just… go."

Backing away, Courfeyrac gawked at his… fiancée?... Boyfriend?... Poet?... What the hell was he to him now? When he didn't move, Valjean stepped forward. "He said get out."

Swallowing thickly, Courfeyrac shoved the engagement ring into his pocket and fled the café. Little did he know, a large shadow followed him.

A/N: Sorry if the fight wasn't so good. It was difficult because I was siding with Jehan and there was no excuse for Courfeyrac's behavior. Please review.