A/N: I am now in the process of writing two stories at a time. The other story is a Harry Potter story, so if anyone is interested, look it up. It is called "Camping With Malfoy". One of those Draco joins the trio stories and a Draco has a younger squib brother story as well. Sorry for self-promoting, especially to those who don't care for Harry Potter stories. Anyway, here's another chapter of Engagement Periods. Enjoy. I own nothing.

-Zie

Chapter 8

The next three days were uneventful. Jehan and Courfeyrac went back home, after borrowing a cot from Combeferre so Jehan could sleep in the same room with his fiancée without sharing a bed. Combeferre came by before he left and the three men sat together on the sofa, saying nothing for half an hour.

The next morning, Combeferre called from Florida, saying that they landed and everything was good on their end. Before Jehan could reply, Courfeyrac pulled the phone away and spoke to Combeferre. "Hey, 'Ferre, you didn't tell them anything, right? 'Cause, Gavroche is like a brother to me. I don't want him to think differently about me."

The brunette could hear Combeferre addressing someone on his end, possibly Eponine, before all background noise came to a sudden stop. "Sorry about that. Had to excuse myself from the others. Don't worry. I didn't say anything. You let me know when or what you want to tell them."

"Not now. Just not now." Now Courfeyrac was beginning to cry. Jehan struggled to take the phone back.

Finally settling to put the phone on speaker, both men heard the end of Combeferre's sentence. "… seriously. Everything will be fine."

Looking at each other, Jehan and Courfeyrac spoke in unison. "Can you repeat that?"

Sitting in a men's' room stall in a Florida airport, Combeferre rolled his eyes. "I said I'll keep it quiet. I'll try to call every other day or so. Just tell me when you're ready."

Back in Paris, Jehan took custody of Courfeyrac's cell and, thanking the medical student for his time, hung up and grinned at his fiancée.

~oOo~

The most that happened those three days was a lot of gentle touching and hugging. Nothing very interesting happened; besides Joly screaming at Jehan, Enjolras, Grantaire, Combeferre, and even Courfeyrac for eating buttercream frosting from the same bowl ("That's disgusting! Is that all you are having for breakfast? Do you have any idea how sick you can get? Combeferre, you're going on an international flight tonight! You could make everyone on that flight sick!")

On the fourth morning, however, Courfeyrac woke up from a wonderful dream. He and Jehan were in the same bed, cuddling and kissing. For three days and three nights, every time the young man closed his eyes, he saw the stranger from the alley. This was a very pleasant surprise, and when he opened his eyes he discovered his body thought so too.

Quickly turning to Jehan's cot to check that he was still sleeping, Courfeyrac raced to the bathroom. After locking the door, the brunette dropped his pants and examined his erection. He looked just about ready to cum, with a little urging. It was painful and he knew he had to take care of it, but how? He didn't want to take a cold shower in case the running water woke Jehan, and he couldn't masturbate with his eyes opened. If he closed his eyes, he would only see that man; if he responded to the rape, he would surely respond to memories and he just can't do that.

He must have made some type of noise because Jehan was suddenly banging on the door. "Valentin? Sweetheart? Are you okay? Please unlock the door."

Ashamed and humiliated, Courfeyrac wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door a crack. "Jehan, I … I'm sorry. I-I need some help with … something." Stepping back, he let the poet in and, swallowing thickly, dropped the towel. Jehan's silence terrified him. "I'm sorry to bother you with this. Really, I am. I just … woke up and it was there. It won't go away."

Jehan picked up the towel and gave it to his mortified fiancée. "It's alright love. It happens to everyone. Nothing to get upset about. I understand. Now let's get you into bed, shall we?" Jehan led Courfeyrac to the bed by his hand.

Once both men were seated on the bed, Courfeyrac still refused to meet the poet's eye. "Jehan, I swear. I … I wasn't dreaming about … about him …"

"Oh, Valentin, darling. It's okay …"

"No, Jehan, really. I was dreaming about you!" Courfeyrac blurted the last part out and blushed twice as much. "We were just … in bed … only cuddling and … kissing. Nothing else. It was nice."

Jehan took Courfeyrac's hand and smiled. "Oh, mon cher, I've dreamed about the same thing. About having you sleeping safe in my arms. You should have said something. I mean, have you been thinking about this a lot?"

The brunette leaned his head against the poet's shoulder, still looking at his boner. "Since we got home. I didn't know how to ask, though."

Jehan grinned and gently pulled his fiancée closer. "Val, would you like me to stay in bed with you?"

Courfeyrac beamed into Jehan's neck. "I'd love that, Jehan. But … first, can you … erm … help me … with …"

Adjusting himself, Jehan held his fiancée's eyes, which were filled with trust, and slowly slid his hand down. With his palm hovering over Courfeyrac's throbbing cock, the poet spoke softly. "Are you sure?"

In response, Courfeyrac placed his hand over Jehan's and guided it to his erection. The brunette snuggled into the poet and encouraged him to stroke his length. Softly rubbing Courfeyrac's shoulder, Jehan used his other hand to massage the brunette's penis. Knowing his fiancée would not want this drawn out, the poet brushed the sensitive tip with his thumb. In less than a moment, Courfeyrac came with a loud gasp.

Tearing up, Courfeyrac stuttered apologies to Jehan. Waving off the brunette's words, Jehan took the towel into the bathroom and began to wash his hands, before noticing his own arousal. Closing the door, the poet quickly took care of himself, while biting his lip in order to remain silent.

Finishing up, Jehan washed his hands and ran a clean wash cloth under the faucet. Tossing Courfeyrac's pants over his shoulder, he left the bathroom and rejoined Courfeyrac on their bed. Using the wash cloth to clean the cum from the brunette's stomach, the poet whispered words of comfort to his fiancée. Once Courfeyrac was dressed, Jehan pulled his sheet and pillow from the cot and curled up with the older student. "It's about two in the morning so we should get some rest. Are you comfortable?"

Courfeyrac studied their positions on the bed, before squirming closer to Jehan and pulling the poet's arm over his own shoulder and snuggling into the other's side. The brunette then sighed in content. "This is perfect, sweetheart. Thank you."

As his fiancée drifted off in his loving embrace, Jehan realized that for the first time all week, Courfeyrac addressed him with a term of endearment.

~oOo~

For the first time in four nights, Courfeyrac slept for a full seven hours. He would have slept longer, if his stomach had not woken him up. He hasn't had much of an appetite these past few days; with urging from Jehan, he ate breakfast and either lunch or dinner every day. His last meal was a late lunch, over 12 hours ago. Turning, the brunette noticed Jehan was still asleep. Not wanting to disturb him, Courfeyrac slowly crawled out of bed and headed to the kitchen.

Standing in front of the fridge, Courfeyrac looked around the kitchen. He opened the cabinet where they kept the cereal before walking to the window, positive he heard something. Seeing nothing, he walked to the door and looked through the peep hole, then checked that the door was properly locked.

Taking deep breathes; the brunette opened the fridge and settled on pulling out eggs, cheese, peppers, and milk. He was pretty damn hungry and planned to make omelets for Jehan and himself. Heating up a pan, Courfeyrac mixed together the eggs, milk, and sliced peppers. It didn't look like enough. Fishing out another pan, the brunette tossed some sausages on to cook. Pouring half the egg mixture onto the other pan, he waited until the eggy juices stopped running before adding cheese and folding it in half. Once the first omelet was done, Courfeyrac moved it onto a plate and, after covering it with a lid, got to work on the second omelet. Just as he moved the other egg to the other plate and the sausages to yet another plate, Jehan called for him from the bedroom.

~oOo~

When Jehan first woke up alone in bed, he assumed that he was back on the cot. Then, after looking around some more, he thought Courfeyrac was in the bathroom. But that was empty too. Did we go too fast? Was he really ready for this? Did I scare him off? These thoughts did not help Jehan. In a blind panic, the poet began screaming for his fiancée. "Valentin! Valentin, where are you? Valentin!"

Then, from the kitchen, Courfeyrac's beautiful voice, laced with alarm. "In the kitchen making breakfast!"

Sighing in relief, Jehan raced into the kitchen to find the brunette standing over the stove. The wonderful scent of sausages and peppers filled the room, and Jehan cleared his throat before stepping beside Courfeyrac. "Omelets?"

The brunette smiled shyly at the poet. "Yep. I got hungry. Sorry I scared you, love."

The poet waved off the apology. "It's fine. I over reacted. So is breakfast ready?"

Courfeyrac nodded, pleased that everything was almost back to normal. "Do you want some orange juice?"

"Sure, you?" the poet replied, pulling out the juice and two glasses.

Again, the brunette nodded and picked up two of the three plates. Gesturing to the living room, Courfeyrac lead the way to the sofa and put the plates on the coffee table, before going back for the other plate. "I got it." Jehan said, passing him the cups of juice before turning around.

The poet returned with the sausages, along with some knives and forks. The two men then settled on the sofa and surfed the channels, while eating breakfast, like any other Saturday morning.