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Greatly Exaggerated by Lady_of_the_Refrigerator
Fandoms: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
21 Mar 2024
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Summary
Valjean meant to toss the rose he carried into the rushing waters below but he could not—his fingers would not part with it, no matter how many times he moved to let it go. There was a metaphor in that, he thought, but he was not yet ready to examine it closely.
The sensation of Javert’s presence wrapped around Valjean like the wind as he walked—it did not cradle nor comfort but chilled him through and through, like the cold metal of a shackle clasped around his ankle, trailing a heavy chain. He had long imagined the man’s gaze on him even when it was not, but perhaps now it would follow him forever, no longer bound by the restrictions of flesh and blood.
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“Then your instincts are as sharp as ever. That should be a comfort.”
Valjean cut his eyes up sharply to meet Javert’s. “It wasn’t. After I heard what had become of you, I thought I had gone mad to still feel you there.”
Javert’s jaw clenched.
“I suppose I should have expected you to find out about my supposed fate with time. It did not occur to me it would spur such a reaction in you as I have witnessed today. For that, I apologize. I could have saved you the confusion of it if I had anticipated the necessity of bringing you into my confidence.”
“It was not only confusion, Javert. If you had any idea what my life has been while I believed you were no longer somewhere out in the world, as steadfast and tenacious as ever…” He shook his head. “I mourned you.”
Javert blinked, a dull surprise that bordered on disbelief written in the furrow of his brows. “You may have been the only one who did.”
“That can’t be true.”
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It was Javert, of course, that Valjean noticed first when he came back to himself, Javert resting breathless in his lap as he gazed up at him in something like punch-drunk wonder. Sweat plastered Javert’s hair to his forehead and Valjean pushed it back with both hands, bending to take Javert’s mouth, letting out a quiet moan at finding the taste of himself there.Javert, it seemed, expected Valjean to recoil from it, but Valjean simply could not abide the thought of accepting the pleasure Javert had given him and shying away from the reality that followed. He clutched at Javert and pulled him even closer, drinking down the hedonistic noises that escaped from Javert’s throat, possibly beyond the other man’s control.
“Kneel up, please,” Valjean said, quiet, “I wish to see to you.