"I hate your mothering. I'm not your kid."

Valjean's concentration was suddenly broken by the bedridden man a few feet away. "I'm not forcing you to stay. You may leave and die a humiliating death trying to get yourself all the way across Paris in the street. Your pride would be wounded, wouldn't you think? What people think of poor Javert then?"

Javert's glare could've burned straight through Valjean's thick skull.

Valjean chuckled throatily. "Would you like to take a walk? It's quite nice tonight. The forecast calls for light drizzle and warm temperatures."

"It's April." Javert replied in a humdrum tone.

"Yes… well, nice weather should always be enjoyed. Come." Valjean beckoned warmly, holding out his hand for Javert to promptly take. With a mocking, almost teasing glare, Javert complied with his role.

"Where shall we walk to?" Valjean prompted, suddenly excited. Pulling on his coat and putting his phone in his pocket, Javert pondered this question.

"To the bridge. And I do not want any interference from the likes of you." Javert replied curtly.

Valjean glared, rolling his eyes inwardly. "I think not. Is the park alright? I have some spare bread… maybe we could feed ducks."

When Valjean saw Javert's expression, he immediately disregarded that suggestion. "How about a bite to eat and a drink?" he offered.

Javert considered this offer for a short second and rose out of bed without any more questions. "Anything except broth sounds great to me."

XXX

They walked in silence on the way to Javert's favorite café. When they were finished there, the two hailed a cab to an address that Valjean did not recognize.

"Where is this place? And what did you say it was called?"

Javert rolled his eyes very obviously. "It's downtown, mother. And it's called Le trou béant."

"The gaping-"Valjean abruptly shut his mouth, his face reddening. "I had no idea you were… what?"

"Quite, my friend. In fact, I just left a relationship due to the fact that most gay men are whores who can't keep their mouths closed to any offer or dick away when they should."

Valjean nodded. "I've heard of the place, but never actually been. I am quite the étrange myself."

Javert scoffed. "How many have you had?"

"Three."

"Names?"

"Andre, Lyle, and Travaris."

"Like those French men, do we Valjean?"

"You would know. And I'd prefer you call me Jean."

"I've never dated a French man. I've never been in a car with one, going to a gay bar with one either, till now. There's always a first."