Fic: "Honest Men" (Les Misérables; Valjean/Javert)
Title: Honest Men
Fandom: Les Misérables (2012)
Pairing: Valjean/Javert
Rating: Explicit
Summary: "We will do this my way, and nobody will be hurt." (Or: Javert finally gets what he wants.)
Word count: ~ 3250
Content info: Post-canon established-relationship AU; awkward first-time sex; PWP; a bit of size kink
Notes: A combination of two kinkmeme prompts: "It's been a while since Valjean fished Javert out of the Seine, they've gone from enemies to friends and now (tentatively) to lovers. The first time they have sex is incredibly super awkward because neither of them want to top the other, Valjean because he's afraid of hurting Javert with his strength, Javert because he knows the kind of things that went on in the dark in Toulon and he doesn't want to bring back bad memories for Valjean." And: "Javert is verywellendowed and Valjean is...shocked. And probably embarrassed. But into it." Because these two prompts obviously go together, at least if you're me.
Basically, 3250 words of awkward, fluffy first-time smut. I have no excuse. What is my life. AO3 version here.
They had made it into Valjean's bedroom, pausing now and then to trade kisses, stroking each other's faces and arms with trembling hands. Nervousness had battled with anticipation, compounded by the days that had passed since their first, clumsy kiss -- days brimming with tension, unspoken questions and promises passing between them every time they laid eyes on each other. And yet each of them had been reluctant to take the first step, as if still fearing, after everything that had happened since that fateful night in June, that the other would turn him away.
But tonight, it had come to a head. Months had passed since the fall of the barricade; Valjean's daughter was married now, there was no one there to question or disapprove; yet they'd hardly dared look at each other over dinner, even as their feet kept touching under the table. Some glasses of fine wine -- a rare indulgence -- and their hands had started touching too, brushing as if by accident at first, then tentatively meeting, clasping, holding.
At some point one of them, or possibly both, had found the courage to lean in, and the kiss had been even better than the first one -- headier, hotter, deeper. They had both got to their feet, still kissing, the remains of the dinner forgotten on the table.
And now they were lying on Valjean's bed, mouth against eager mouth, their hands roaming over each other's bodies, fumbling with each other's clothing. Javert had just worked open Valjean's waistcoat and was trying to wrestle it off him, when Valjean stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Javert," he said, his voice hesitant. "I'm not..."
Javert's hand stilled. "You are not?" he repeated dully, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He himself was hard, his skin flushed with arousal, his heart beating -- he had waited so long for this, longer than he cared to think about -- and now, if Valjean did not want this after all, if the kisses and the touches were just another act of misguided kindness...
"Javert," Valjean said again, clutching at his shoulders. "I am -- I do not know how to go about this."
At that, he relaxed, a long sigh escaping him. He pulled Valjean closer and kissed him again. "Surely you know the theory?" he murmured. "As I do." He pulled back a little, his lips twisting into a smile. "Though I am afraid I have no more experience than you."
Valjean smiled back at him, obviously relieved. "I am glad to hear it," he said. His smile grew somewhat crooked. "Perhaps it is a selfish thought, but I do enjoy the notion of being your first. I confess I have wondered about what sort of men you might have known in your life."
"Policemen and criminals." The slightly possessive tone in Valjean's voice had made Javert's groin throb; his fingers worked on Valjean's shirt buttons with increasing speed. "None of them capable of tempting me into sin." He stopped, feeling his face grow hot. "That is, if it is indeed a sin -- I do not know if you believe --"
Valjean leaned in and kissed him. "Love is never a sin," he said, his voice full of conviction. Javert's throat thickened at the words. "If we both want this, if we both please each other, then what is the harm?" He met Javert's eyes and smiled. "Do not look so surprised. I have had occasion to contemplate this lately."
"Ah, well." Now it was Javert's turn to smile back; he too was relieved. "You are a strange being, Jean Valjean," he muttered. "I have never known a man like you -- perhaps that is why..."
As Valjean's mouth found his again, Javert marvelled at how each kiss seemed better than the last. Surely it should not be possible. He pulled away at length, with some difficulty, and tugged at Valjean's shirt. "We should perhaps get rid of our clothing," he suggested. "I believe it will make things easier."
They set about divesting each other of waistcoats and shirts, managing to do so without pausing for more than a few kisses. When they were bare to their waists, Javert lay down on his back and tugged Valjean with him. They were both hard; he could feel it through the fabric of their trousers. He bucked his hips up against Valjean's with an impatient groan. "The trousers, too."
Valjean's hands started to work on Javert's buttons, but then stilled. "Javert, I..." He bit his lip, worry in his eyes. "I think you will have to be in charge here."
"In charge?" Javert raised his head. "Do you mean --"
"I don't want to hurt you," Valjean said hurriedly. "I would never do so willingly, but I am still strong, and... I'm sure it can be pleasant, but it also seems like something that could easily be painful. I don't know if I would be able to control myself."
Javert sat up, looking into Valjean's eyes as steadily as he could. "What sort of delicate flower do you take me for?" he demanded. "Do you think I would be so easy to manhandle, to pin down or fling about?" He had, in fact, been harbouring certain fantasies of such a nature, but the wiser part of his brain told him this was not the best time to share them. "Besides, I trust you." He started to unfasten Valjean's trousers. "You have never been a danger to me." His hand found Valjean's hot flesh, and for a moment he forgot what he was going to say, before finding his bearings again. "As I have been to you." He pulled down Valjean's trousers decisively. Once off, they rejoined the rest of their discarded clothing.
"If I didn't trust you we wouldn't be here now," said Valjean, sounding slightly short of breath. "Here, let me..." He fumbled with Javert's buttons and pulled down his trousers in turn. Javert lifted his hips so that Valjean could pull his trousers off and put them away. When he turned back to Javert, who was now lying on his back with his legs parted, his eyes widened.
"Javert," he choked. "You are..."
Javert's arousal was pounding between his legs. His skin felt as if it were on fire. Much as he enjoyed the awestruck look on Valjean's face, he was eager to continue what they had begun. "Please," he said, spreading his thighs a little wider. "If you are going to tell me I am beautiful or something equally absurd, do save that for later and let us get on with this instead."
Valjean shook his head, still looking stricken. "No, that was not what -- although, if you wish..." He shook his head again. "Javert, you are immense."
"Pardon?" Javert followed Valjean's gaze. His face grew hotter than ever. "Oh, you mean..."
"I have never seen anything like it," Valjean breathed, reaching out a hand to touch Javert's erect cock. It gave a jump as his fingers touched it, and Javert bit back a moan. "So hard and huge, and all because of this -- because of you and me, here, like this..."
"Indeed." Javert's breath was coming rapidly, Valjean's words going straight into his blood and to his groin. He had never given much thought to his own size, never having had any reason to do so; the subject of Valjean's cock, on the other hand, had occupied quite a bit of space in his mind and still did. He looked at it hungrily, wondering, not for the first time, what it would feel like inside him. If only Valjean would not fret so over causing him pain...
As Valjean's hand closed around his length and Javert bit back another moan, inspiration suddenly struck. Smiling to himself, he sat up. "You must believe me when I say I would never want to cause you pain," he said, reaching out to touch Valjean's cheek.
Valjean tore his gaze away from Javert's groin. His eyes were somewhat dazed. "What?"
"As I said." He glanced at Valjean's hand, which was large and warm and curled around Javert's cock. "I believe it might be painful to you if I were to, ah, be in charge, as you called it."
"I could take it," Valjean insisted, though Javert thought there was something like doubt in his voice. "If you want to -- I'd much rather go through some discomfort than --"
Javert leaned forward and brushed his lips against Valjean's. "You said it yourself," he murmured. "'Javert, you are immense.' Those were your words. Would it really not be better if you took me instead?"
Valjean frowned at this. "Are you saying I am not --"
"Oh, for Heaven's sake, man!" Javert threw his hands in the air, his sorely-tested patience threatening to leave him. "If you are only half as eager as I, do stop quarrelling so that we can get on with this before the sun rises."
Valjean was still frowning, but he nodded. He let go of Javert's cock reluctantly, and leaned in for another kiss. "Tell me what you want me to do, then."
Javert thought for a moment, before the solution came to him. "Lie down on your back," he instructed.
Valjean did so, looking up at him expectantly. Though the night was upon them, the lamp in the far corner provided more than enough light for Javert to see the scars on his chest. He ran a tentative hand over them, before rising from the bed. "Wait here."
Walking through the apartment naked, with his ostensibly immense erection jutting out in front of him, Javert felt more than a little ridiculous. He made it to the kitchen without incident, to his great relief -- surely this would have been the worst time for Valjean's landlady to pay an unexpected visit -- and finding what he'd come for, he hurried back to the bedroom as fast as he could, promising himself that next time he would make sure everything they needed was safely in the bedroom before they reached the stage of nudity.
Valjean raised his head as Javert entered the room. "What is that?"
"Olive oil," Javert said, showing him the bottle. "Surely you don't mind?"
"I think I can afford it," Valjean said, lips quirking. "Are you going to..."
He did not finish the sentence; his eyes were back to scanning Javert's naked form, lingering at his groin. Javert climbed onto the bed and straddled Valjean's thighs. He could not stop himself from reaching out to touch Valjean's hard cock, his own satisfied sigh mingling with Valjean's moan. "You are quite immense yourself," he murmured appreciatively, running his hand down the length.
Valjean made a nervous sound. "Javert, are you sure --"
"Not too immense," Javert interrupted him. He leaned forward and planted both his hands on Valjean's chest. "We will do this my way, and nobody will be hurt."
Valjean looked doubtful, but nodded, as he had earlier. Javert bent his head and kissed the middle of Valjean's chest, between the nipples, where an old scar wrinkled the skin. "Trust me," he muttered, pulling back.
His hands were shaking somewhat when he opened the bottle and poured oil into his hand. Some of it dripped down onto the sheets. "Sorry," Javert mumbled, trying to scoop it up. Valjean just shook his head. "Go on," he said intently.
Despite his eagerness, Javert could not quite bring himself to look Valjean in the eye as he reached between his own legs and felt his way along the cleft. It was nothing to be ashamed of, he reminded himself as he slid an oily finger into the opening, following it with another: every successful operation necessitated a certain amount of preparation. If he had never tried this on his own, surely tonight's encounter would have proved even more challenging, and they had already wasted enough time. Yet he kept his eyes downcast as he stretched himself, until Valjean made a strangled sound and reached for his cock again. "Javert..."
Javert forced himself to look up and meet his gaze. "Is this shocking to you?" he choked out as he worked himself open. "Do you doubt you are my first?"
"Not shocking," Valjean said. His eyes were large and dark with desire, his mouth slightly open. "And I don't. Doubt you. You never lie." He wet his lips. "To see you like that... To think you have prepared yourself for this, taught yourself to --"
"Enough," Javert interrupted him, pulling out his fingers. "Next time, those will be your fingers in me." He loved the way Valjean's breath hitched. "We will try everything."
"Yes." Valjean's hand stroked Javert's cock with gentle, loving motions. "Everything."
Javert moved a little so that he could get Valjean's cock between his thighs. Valjean's hand on his own cock made it difficult to see, so he motioned for Valjean to remove it. Then he poured some more oil into his hand and rubbed it on Valjean's cock, which he continued to hold in a firm grip as he lowered himself slowly.
It bumped against him, sliding a bit upwards -- too far. Javert gritted his teeth and steered it downwards. When it pressed against his opening, he let it go, bracing himself with his hands on Valjean's chest and raising his eyes to Valjean's. Valjean was still watching him with a dazed look on his face. "Javert," he said, a pleading tone in his voice which Javert had never heard before.
"Yes." Slowly, slowly, he sank down on the hard length. It slid upwards, further, further, so different and so much more than his fingers -- immense, was that the word? He moaned, wriggling a little, and it slid even further, hitting something inside him which made him cry out.
"Javert!" Valjean's voice was worried, his eyed wide. Javert managed to shake his head. His hands stroked Valjean's chest reassuringly. "It doesn't hurt," he panted. "It feels good, so good... It's not like anything I imagined."
Valjean let out a long sigh. "Likewise," he murmured. "You're so hot, Javert. So tight..." His hips gave a sudden jerk upward, and he looked at Javert apologetically. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," said Javert, feeling confident and bold. He moved his hips in turn, relishing the feeling of Valjean inside him, trying to find that spot again. Valjean's hand wrapped around his cock once more, and Javert placed his own hand over it. "Move with me," he murmured as their joined hands started working his erection. "Let me feel you."
"Anything." Valjean's hand clutched about his cock, squeezing it with a force that made Javert whimper. "God. To think that we are here, like this... That I'm inside you like this..." Javert ground down on him, and Valjean threw his head back. "Tell me I'm not hurting you," he moaned. "Tell me this is what you want."
"If I did not want it this would not be possible," Javert panted. "Gravity. Even you cannot defy it, Jean Valjean. God..." Each thrust downwards, each buck of Valjean's hips upwards, each squeeze of Valjean's hand sent jolts of lightning through him. "You're so good inside me," he babbled. "So good and hard and huge, hnnngh, better than I dreamed, you are so..."
"Immense?" Valjean suggested with a breathless laugh. His free hand was clutching at Javert's thigh; his chest was heaving; his cheeks were flushed: he looked gloriously, unsaintly debauched.
"Immense. Yes." Javert's breath was coming in gulps, the intense, aching pleasure almost too much to take. "Tell me this is what you want," he demanded in turn, feeling his orgasm mounting, not quite certain what he was saying and not caring. "Me. Like this... Yours."
"Yes, Javert," Valjean gasped, his hands so strong and firm on Javert's flesh, his cock so big and hard inside Javert's body. "I want you like this, so much..."
At those words, Javert could not hold back anymore. He cried out, spending himself all over their hands and Valjean's stomach, his body shaking and jerking so hard he thought he would fall off -- and then he felt Valjean's strong hand on his thigh, steadying him. Gasping for air, he removed their tangled hands from his cock, still bracing himself on Valjean's chest with his free arm. He licked his lips and looked up to find Valjean watching him, his eyes darker than ever, his mouth curved in the most beautiful smile Javert had ever seen. "God, Javert," he breathed. "That was..."
"Not so fast." Javert smiled back, aware that Valjean was still hard inside his relaxed body. "You haven't finished yet."
Valjean's face coloured, though he was still smiling. "Is it that important?"
"A ridiculous question." Javert raised himself up somewhat, so that Valjean almost slid out of him, but not quite. "What if you were in my position? Would you leave me to it?"
"I wouldn't. But, ah..." Valjean's breath came out of him in a groan as Javert lowered himself again, faster and harder than before. "Oh God, Javert, stop, no, I'm going to, no, don't stop --"
"You are going to," Javert told him, driving down on him again. "You are going spend yourself inside me and love it, it's going to be the most wonderful thing you ever..."
Both of Valjean's hands were now clutching Javert's thighs, their bodies straining to meet each other. Javert groaned, feeling himself start to harden again -- could it be possible, he dimly wondered, at his age? -- and then Valjean's hips gave a final, violent jerk; he cried out; his hands gripped Javert's thighs hard enough to bruise; his whole body shook. Javert sank down on him for the last time, allowing himself to slump in satisfaction, savouring the feeling of warm wetness and Valjean's softening flesh inside him.
For a minute, neither of them moved. Valjean's hands were still on his thighs; Javert's hands were still on Valjean's chest. Their eyes were closed, their breathing loud and deep.
Then Valjean's hands moved to Javert's waist. "Come down," he said, a smile in his voice. "Or do you want me to lift you off?"
"Save that for later." With a sigh, he slid off Valjean and crawled to lie next to him. His body was aching in the best of ways; he felt triumphant and satisfied and at ease. "Now," he said, stretching like a cat and pillowing his head on Valjean's shoulder. "That was not so horrible a thing, was it?"
Valjean huffed a laugh. "I should think not. But, my dear," he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to Javert's temple, "it was all thanks to you. You did end up the one in charge, after all."
"For once," Javert muttered. "Oh, do not look at me like that. We both know I am yours to command. Happily so." Again, he was not quite sure what he was saying; again, he did not care. Sleep was stealing over him, like a soft blanket over his contented limbs. Valjean's arms were around him, warm and strong. He snaked an arm over Valjean's chest in turn and wriggled closer.
"Do remember to put the oil back in the kitchen," he yawned, "or we shall have to answer awkward questions from your housekeeper."
"If she does not discover the state of my sheets first," Valjean murmured, kissing his hair. "She may be suspicious no matter what."
Javert yawned again. "I do not care. We are honest men."
He fell asleep like that, warm and contented, with the feeling of Valjean's smile against his ear.
This entry was originally posted at http://miss-morland.dreamwidth.org/99796.html. You may comment there, if you like.
Fandom: Les Misérables (2012)
Pairing: Valjean/Javert
Rating: Explicit
Summary: "We will do this my way, and nobody will be hurt." (Or: Javert finally gets what he wants.)
Word count: ~ 3250
Content info: Post-canon established-relationship AU; awkward first-time sex; PWP; a bit of size kink
Notes: A combination of two kinkmeme prompts: "It's been a while since Valjean fished Javert out of the Seine, they've gone from enemies to friends and now (tentatively) to lovers. The first time they have sex is incredibly super awkward because neither of them want to top the other, Valjean because he's afraid of hurting Javert with his strength, Javert because he knows the kind of things that went on in the dark in Toulon and he doesn't want to bring back bad memories for Valjean." And: "Javert is verywellendowed and Valjean is...shocked. And probably embarrassed. But into it." Because these two prompts obviously go together, at least if you're me.
Basically, 3250 words of awkward, fluffy first-time smut. I have no excuse. What is my life. AO3 version here.
They had made it into Valjean's bedroom, pausing now and then to trade kisses, stroking each other's faces and arms with trembling hands. Nervousness had battled with anticipation, compounded by the days that had passed since their first, clumsy kiss -- days brimming with tension, unspoken questions and promises passing between them every time they laid eyes on each other. And yet each of them had been reluctant to take the first step, as if still fearing, after everything that had happened since that fateful night in June, that the other would turn him away.
But tonight, it had come to a head. Months had passed since the fall of the barricade; Valjean's daughter was married now, there was no one there to question or disapprove; yet they'd hardly dared look at each other over dinner, even as their feet kept touching under the table. Some glasses of fine wine -- a rare indulgence -- and their hands had started touching too, brushing as if by accident at first, then tentatively meeting, clasping, holding.
At some point one of them, or possibly both, had found the courage to lean in, and the kiss had been even better than the first one -- headier, hotter, deeper. They had both got to their feet, still kissing, the remains of the dinner forgotten on the table.
And now they were lying on Valjean's bed, mouth against eager mouth, their hands roaming over each other's bodies, fumbling with each other's clothing. Javert had just worked open Valjean's waistcoat and was trying to wrestle it off him, when Valjean stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Javert," he said, his voice hesitant. "I'm not..."
Javert's hand stilled. "You are not?" he repeated dully, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He himself was hard, his skin flushed with arousal, his heart beating -- he had waited so long for this, longer than he cared to think about -- and now, if Valjean did not want this after all, if the kisses and the touches were just another act of misguided kindness...
"Javert," Valjean said again, clutching at his shoulders. "I am -- I do not know how to go about this."
At that, he relaxed, a long sigh escaping him. He pulled Valjean closer and kissed him again. "Surely you know the theory?" he murmured. "As I do." He pulled back a little, his lips twisting into a smile. "Though I am afraid I have no more experience than you."
Valjean smiled back at him, obviously relieved. "I am glad to hear it," he said. His smile grew somewhat crooked. "Perhaps it is a selfish thought, but I do enjoy the notion of being your first. I confess I have wondered about what sort of men you might have known in your life."
"Policemen and criminals." The slightly possessive tone in Valjean's voice had made Javert's groin throb; his fingers worked on Valjean's shirt buttons with increasing speed. "None of them capable of tempting me into sin." He stopped, feeling his face grow hot. "That is, if it is indeed a sin -- I do not know if you believe --"
Valjean leaned in and kissed him. "Love is never a sin," he said, his voice full of conviction. Javert's throat thickened at the words. "If we both want this, if we both please each other, then what is the harm?" He met Javert's eyes and smiled. "Do not look so surprised. I have had occasion to contemplate this lately."
"Ah, well." Now it was Javert's turn to smile back; he too was relieved. "You are a strange being, Jean Valjean," he muttered. "I have never known a man like you -- perhaps that is why..."
As Valjean's mouth found his again, Javert marvelled at how each kiss seemed better than the last. Surely it should not be possible. He pulled away at length, with some difficulty, and tugged at Valjean's shirt. "We should perhaps get rid of our clothing," he suggested. "I believe it will make things easier."
They set about divesting each other of waistcoats and shirts, managing to do so without pausing for more than a few kisses. When they were bare to their waists, Javert lay down on his back and tugged Valjean with him. They were both hard; he could feel it through the fabric of their trousers. He bucked his hips up against Valjean's with an impatient groan. "The trousers, too."
Valjean's hands started to work on Javert's buttons, but then stilled. "Javert, I..." He bit his lip, worry in his eyes. "I think you will have to be in charge here."
"In charge?" Javert raised his head. "Do you mean --"
"I don't want to hurt you," Valjean said hurriedly. "I would never do so willingly, but I am still strong, and... I'm sure it can be pleasant, but it also seems like something that could easily be painful. I don't know if I would be able to control myself."
Javert sat up, looking into Valjean's eyes as steadily as he could. "What sort of delicate flower do you take me for?" he demanded. "Do you think I would be so easy to manhandle, to pin down or fling about?" He had, in fact, been harbouring certain fantasies of such a nature, but the wiser part of his brain told him this was not the best time to share them. "Besides, I trust you." He started to unfasten Valjean's trousers. "You have never been a danger to me." His hand found Valjean's hot flesh, and for a moment he forgot what he was going to say, before finding his bearings again. "As I have been to you." He pulled down Valjean's trousers decisively. Once off, they rejoined the rest of their discarded clothing.
"If I didn't trust you we wouldn't be here now," said Valjean, sounding slightly short of breath. "Here, let me..." He fumbled with Javert's buttons and pulled down his trousers in turn. Javert lifted his hips so that Valjean could pull his trousers off and put them away. When he turned back to Javert, who was now lying on his back with his legs parted, his eyes widened.
"Javert," he choked. "You are..."
Javert's arousal was pounding between his legs. His skin felt as if it were on fire. Much as he enjoyed the awestruck look on Valjean's face, he was eager to continue what they had begun. "Please," he said, spreading his thighs a little wider. "If you are going to tell me I am beautiful or something equally absurd, do save that for later and let us get on with this instead."
Valjean shook his head, still looking stricken. "No, that was not what -- although, if you wish..." He shook his head again. "Javert, you are immense."
"Pardon?" Javert followed Valjean's gaze. His face grew hotter than ever. "Oh, you mean..."
"I have never seen anything like it," Valjean breathed, reaching out a hand to touch Javert's erect cock. It gave a jump as his fingers touched it, and Javert bit back a moan. "So hard and huge, and all because of this -- because of you and me, here, like this..."
"Indeed." Javert's breath was coming rapidly, Valjean's words going straight into his blood and to his groin. He had never given much thought to his own size, never having had any reason to do so; the subject of Valjean's cock, on the other hand, had occupied quite a bit of space in his mind and still did. He looked at it hungrily, wondering, not for the first time, what it would feel like inside him. If only Valjean would not fret so over causing him pain...
As Valjean's hand closed around his length and Javert bit back another moan, inspiration suddenly struck. Smiling to himself, he sat up. "You must believe me when I say I would never want to cause you pain," he said, reaching out to touch Valjean's cheek.
Valjean tore his gaze away from Javert's groin. His eyes were somewhat dazed. "What?"
"As I said." He glanced at Valjean's hand, which was large and warm and curled around Javert's cock. "I believe it might be painful to you if I were to, ah, be in charge, as you called it."
"I could take it," Valjean insisted, though Javert thought there was something like doubt in his voice. "If you want to -- I'd much rather go through some discomfort than --"
Javert leaned forward and brushed his lips against Valjean's. "You said it yourself," he murmured. "'Javert, you are immense.' Those were your words. Would it really not be better if you took me instead?"
Valjean frowned at this. "Are you saying I am not --"
"Oh, for Heaven's sake, man!" Javert threw his hands in the air, his sorely-tested patience threatening to leave him. "If you are only half as eager as I, do stop quarrelling so that we can get on with this before the sun rises."
Valjean was still frowning, but he nodded. He let go of Javert's cock reluctantly, and leaned in for another kiss. "Tell me what you want me to do, then."
Javert thought for a moment, before the solution came to him. "Lie down on your back," he instructed.
Valjean did so, looking up at him expectantly. Though the night was upon them, the lamp in the far corner provided more than enough light for Javert to see the scars on his chest. He ran a tentative hand over them, before rising from the bed. "Wait here."
Walking through the apartment naked, with his ostensibly immense erection jutting out in front of him, Javert felt more than a little ridiculous. He made it to the kitchen without incident, to his great relief -- surely this would have been the worst time for Valjean's landlady to pay an unexpected visit -- and finding what he'd come for, he hurried back to the bedroom as fast as he could, promising himself that next time he would make sure everything they needed was safely in the bedroom before they reached the stage of nudity.
Valjean raised his head as Javert entered the room. "What is that?"
"Olive oil," Javert said, showing him the bottle. "Surely you don't mind?"
"I think I can afford it," Valjean said, lips quirking. "Are you going to..."
He did not finish the sentence; his eyes were back to scanning Javert's naked form, lingering at his groin. Javert climbed onto the bed and straddled Valjean's thighs. He could not stop himself from reaching out to touch Valjean's hard cock, his own satisfied sigh mingling with Valjean's moan. "You are quite immense yourself," he murmured appreciatively, running his hand down the length.
Valjean made a nervous sound. "Javert, are you sure --"
"Not too immense," Javert interrupted him. He leaned forward and planted both his hands on Valjean's chest. "We will do this my way, and nobody will be hurt."
Valjean looked doubtful, but nodded, as he had earlier. Javert bent his head and kissed the middle of Valjean's chest, between the nipples, where an old scar wrinkled the skin. "Trust me," he muttered, pulling back.
His hands were shaking somewhat when he opened the bottle and poured oil into his hand. Some of it dripped down onto the sheets. "Sorry," Javert mumbled, trying to scoop it up. Valjean just shook his head. "Go on," he said intently.
Despite his eagerness, Javert could not quite bring himself to look Valjean in the eye as he reached between his own legs and felt his way along the cleft. It was nothing to be ashamed of, he reminded himself as he slid an oily finger into the opening, following it with another: every successful operation necessitated a certain amount of preparation. If he had never tried this on his own, surely tonight's encounter would have proved even more challenging, and they had already wasted enough time. Yet he kept his eyes downcast as he stretched himself, until Valjean made a strangled sound and reached for his cock again. "Javert..."
Javert forced himself to look up and meet his gaze. "Is this shocking to you?" he choked out as he worked himself open. "Do you doubt you are my first?"
"Not shocking," Valjean said. His eyes were large and dark with desire, his mouth slightly open. "And I don't. Doubt you. You never lie." He wet his lips. "To see you like that... To think you have prepared yourself for this, taught yourself to --"
"Enough," Javert interrupted him, pulling out his fingers. "Next time, those will be your fingers in me." He loved the way Valjean's breath hitched. "We will try everything."
"Yes." Valjean's hand stroked Javert's cock with gentle, loving motions. "Everything."
Javert moved a little so that he could get Valjean's cock between his thighs. Valjean's hand on his own cock made it difficult to see, so he motioned for Valjean to remove it. Then he poured some more oil into his hand and rubbed it on Valjean's cock, which he continued to hold in a firm grip as he lowered himself slowly.
It bumped against him, sliding a bit upwards -- too far. Javert gritted his teeth and steered it downwards. When it pressed against his opening, he let it go, bracing himself with his hands on Valjean's chest and raising his eyes to Valjean's. Valjean was still watching him with a dazed look on his face. "Javert," he said, a pleading tone in his voice which Javert had never heard before.
"Yes." Slowly, slowly, he sank down on the hard length. It slid upwards, further, further, so different and so much more than his fingers -- immense, was that the word? He moaned, wriggling a little, and it slid even further, hitting something inside him which made him cry out.
"Javert!" Valjean's voice was worried, his eyed wide. Javert managed to shake his head. His hands stroked Valjean's chest reassuringly. "It doesn't hurt," he panted. "It feels good, so good... It's not like anything I imagined."
Valjean let out a long sigh. "Likewise," he murmured. "You're so hot, Javert. So tight..." His hips gave a sudden jerk upward, and he looked at Javert apologetically. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," said Javert, feeling confident and bold. He moved his hips in turn, relishing the feeling of Valjean inside him, trying to find that spot again. Valjean's hand wrapped around his cock once more, and Javert placed his own hand over it. "Move with me," he murmured as their joined hands started working his erection. "Let me feel you."
"Anything." Valjean's hand clutched about his cock, squeezing it with a force that made Javert whimper. "God. To think that we are here, like this... That I'm inside you like this..." Javert ground down on him, and Valjean threw his head back. "Tell me I'm not hurting you," he moaned. "Tell me this is what you want."
"If I did not want it this would not be possible," Javert panted. "Gravity. Even you cannot defy it, Jean Valjean. God..." Each thrust downwards, each buck of Valjean's hips upwards, each squeeze of Valjean's hand sent jolts of lightning through him. "You're so good inside me," he babbled. "So good and hard and huge, hnnngh, better than I dreamed, you are so..."
"Immense?" Valjean suggested with a breathless laugh. His free hand was clutching at Javert's thigh; his chest was heaving; his cheeks were flushed: he looked gloriously, unsaintly debauched.
"Immense. Yes." Javert's breath was coming in gulps, the intense, aching pleasure almost too much to take. "Tell me this is what you want," he demanded in turn, feeling his orgasm mounting, not quite certain what he was saying and not caring. "Me. Like this... Yours."
"Yes, Javert," Valjean gasped, his hands so strong and firm on Javert's flesh, his cock so big and hard inside Javert's body. "I want you like this, so much..."
At those words, Javert could not hold back anymore. He cried out, spending himself all over their hands and Valjean's stomach, his body shaking and jerking so hard he thought he would fall off -- and then he felt Valjean's strong hand on his thigh, steadying him. Gasping for air, he removed their tangled hands from his cock, still bracing himself on Valjean's chest with his free arm. He licked his lips and looked up to find Valjean watching him, his eyes darker than ever, his mouth curved in the most beautiful smile Javert had ever seen. "God, Javert," he breathed. "That was..."
"Not so fast." Javert smiled back, aware that Valjean was still hard inside his relaxed body. "You haven't finished yet."
Valjean's face coloured, though he was still smiling. "Is it that important?"
"A ridiculous question." Javert raised himself up somewhat, so that Valjean almost slid out of him, but not quite. "What if you were in my position? Would you leave me to it?"
"I wouldn't. But, ah..." Valjean's breath came out of him in a groan as Javert lowered himself again, faster and harder than before. "Oh God, Javert, stop, no, I'm going to, no, don't stop --"
"You are going to," Javert told him, driving down on him again. "You are going spend yourself inside me and love it, it's going to be the most wonderful thing you ever..."
Both of Valjean's hands were now clutching Javert's thighs, their bodies straining to meet each other. Javert groaned, feeling himself start to harden again -- could it be possible, he dimly wondered, at his age? -- and then Valjean's hips gave a final, violent jerk; he cried out; his hands gripped Javert's thighs hard enough to bruise; his whole body shook. Javert sank down on him for the last time, allowing himself to slump in satisfaction, savouring the feeling of warm wetness and Valjean's softening flesh inside him.
For a minute, neither of them moved. Valjean's hands were still on his thighs; Javert's hands were still on Valjean's chest. Their eyes were closed, their breathing loud and deep.
Then Valjean's hands moved to Javert's waist. "Come down," he said, a smile in his voice. "Or do you want me to lift you off?"
"Save that for later." With a sigh, he slid off Valjean and crawled to lie next to him. His body was aching in the best of ways; he felt triumphant and satisfied and at ease. "Now," he said, stretching like a cat and pillowing his head on Valjean's shoulder. "That was not so horrible a thing, was it?"
Valjean huffed a laugh. "I should think not. But, my dear," he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to Javert's temple, "it was all thanks to you. You did end up the one in charge, after all."
"For once," Javert muttered. "Oh, do not look at me like that. We both know I am yours to command. Happily so." Again, he was not quite sure what he was saying; again, he did not care. Sleep was stealing over him, like a soft blanket over his contented limbs. Valjean's arms were around him, warm and strong. He snaked an arm over Valjean's chest in turn and wriggled closer.
"Do remember to put the oil back in the kitchen," he yawned, "or we shall have to answer awkward questions from your housekeeper."
"If she does not discover the state of my sheets first," Valjean murmured, kissing his hair. "She may be suspicious no matter what."
Javert yawned again. "I do not care. We are honest men."
He fell asleep like that, warm and contented, with the feeling of Valjean's smile against his ear.
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