Chapter Text
As the child of a fortuneteller, Javert did not put much stock in fate, and he found the concept of luck alarming. Even when something good happened to him, there was always a price. It wasn't that he believed in karma, exactly, but in his experience, wanting something badly enough usually had disastrous consequences in some other area of life.
Javert's recent experiences with Valjean were more than sufficient proof for him that bad always followed good. If asked, he would have admitted to believing that his wish for the reporters camped in front of their house to go away might trigger an unintended cataclysm. So he was shocked yet somehow not surprised when they reached the hotel to retrieve his car, only to find a crowd of hysterical people outside, carrying handmade political banners that had nothing to do with The Forlorn.
"What the hell!" muttered Gorbeau. "Stay in the garage. I'll find out what's going on and send you an email."
But before she could do so, Javert already knew, for he had turned on his car radio. "Once again, for those of you just joining us, Senator Lamarque is dead," intoned the news.
"Wasn't Senator Lamarque going to be the next president?" asked Cosette.
"Only if he won the election," Javert said grimly. But Cosette was very likely right. Lamarque, a former general and military hero turned champion of the poor, was loved for various reasons by people with a wide range of political beliefs. Javert had never concerned himself much with politicians -- some of them were devoted to the welfare of the state, some only to their own advancement, and it was his responsibility to obey their laws whether the laws made sense to him or not -- but he knew that Lamarque's death would cause ripples that affected everyone.
Looks like you won't make the late news after all, Gorbeau emailed him. I've got to get home and get on the phone. Seems like that jackass Enjolras is trying to put together an actors' tribute to Lamarque. I have to keep the show's name out of it.
Fuck, but luck was fickle. Lamarque was dead, but there was not a single reporter in front of the house when Javert arrived home with Cosette.
Valjean hadn't been happy that Cosette had insisted on leaving with Javert instead of with him, but he understood that arguing would only further convince Cosette that he was trying to take her away from Javert. Thus, Valjean had been the first to arrive home, where Javert and Cosette found him pacing in the kitchen, meddling with Toussaint's attempts to bake cookies. "You fix," she pleaded with Javert, gesturing at Valjean. Javert wondered what Valjean thought would happen to Toussaint if he disappeared or even dismissed her -- one more thing they were going to need to have a talk about, eventually.
For that evening, however, it was enough to behave for a little while as if everything was already back to normal, even if "normal" meant that instead of a story at bedtime, Valjean told Cosette about Lamarque's accomplishments in welfare reform and what it might mean for the country that he was dead. Cosette was only half-listening. She wanted to know about Javert's parents. She'd known that they were both dead, but of course she hadn't known how or where they died.
So he told her. Valjean listened silently as Cosette asked questions about why Javert hadn't ever visited his father in prison and whether he was sorry now. "If Papa went back to prison, you'd take me to see him, wouldn't you?"
Valjean made an indecipherable noise. "Your Papa isn't going back to prison," Javert assured Cosette. "But if he ever did, which he will not, then yes. I would."
"See?" Cosette said to Valjean as if they'd discussed this. "Dad wouldn't try to take me away from you."
"I shouldn't have done that even for a little while," Valjean agreed fervently. "I'm sorry. I'll keep saying it until you both believe me."
Javert expected Cosette to press the issue further, but instead she said, "I want to come to your trailer after school when you're both there."
Valjean and Javert exchanged a glance. "It might interfere with your schoolwork..." began Valjean.
"I'll get that done. I did when they let me be on the show. I want to see Gavroche. Did you know he's adopted, too? He had parents who were criminals, like Dad."
It was a revelation to Javert, and apparently to Valjean, that Cosette was aware of such things. "I suppose she is old enough to go out with friends after school," Valjean said reluctantly.
"And I don't need Toussaint to stay home with --"
"Yes, you do,"Javert interrupted firmly. For a moment he thought Cosette would argue, but she only glanced from him to Valjean, then nodded.
With Cosette so much in his own corner and the world so unexpectedly changed, Javert found that his fury at Valjean had drained away. By the time Cosette finally went to sleep, he didn't have the energy for the lengthy rant he'd been reciting in his head with the intention of delivering it to Valjean as soon as they were alone. He didn't have much energy for talking at all, so once Cosette was finally asleep, after their repeated reassurances that they would both be there in the morning, Javert went to unload the dishwasher that Toussaint had run earlier.
Valjean found him in the kitchen and crept up behind him, sliding his arms around Javert's waist. "I'm sorry," he said for the fifteenth time since they'd been home. "I didn't mean to make you think I was abandoning you. You have to believe me. I thought I was protecting you and Cosette. Every stupid thing I did was because I love you, and I will swear on anything you like that I'll never do it again."
Javert repressed a shudder. He understood now why people claimed that their lovers made them go weak in the knees; he thought his own would give out. He wanted nothing more than to let Valjean take his weight and hold him, preferably for hours.
Of course, merely recognizing that desire made him tense instead. "Are you going to keep giving me the silent treatment?" Valjean asked softly, mouth so close to Javert's ear that it tickled.
"I'm not giving you the silent treatment." Javert huffed out a breath. "Or if I am, it's only so I won't say 'I told you so' a hundred times."
He felt Valjean's shake of laughter, and the voice that replied was relieved. "Is that all? I deserve so much worse. You can say 'I told you so' as many times as you want."
"No one likes to be told 'I told you so,'" snorted Javert.
"You did tell me so. I was afraid you were going to tell me I might as well go back to the retreat because no way were you letting me stay with you."
"You seem determined that we not stay together. Are you disappointed that I didn't take your offer to protect my honor and leave?"
"Oh God." Valjean's arms had tightened around his waist, and Javert felt his breathing stutter. "Please tell me you're joking."
Javert left him suspended in agony for a few moments -- it was what Valjean deserved -- before he finally replied, "I'm joking. You can't go back to the retreat. There's no way I'm telling..." He had to hesitate to take a breath. "...telling my daughter that she has to leave her home again, not after we just got her settled." Turning, he gave Valjean what he hoped was a defiant look.
Valjean grinned a bit, looking at his own feet. "I didn't mean with Cosette. I thought you were going to tell just me to get out."
"And have her wake up calling for her father?"
"You're her father." It was Valjean's turn to blow out a breath. "She made that very clear today -- she went running to you."
Javert was shaking his head. "Only because you were shaking up her world. And forcing her to face things, on top of --" He gestured in the direction of the car and by extension the studio. "The whole production going topsy turvy."
"I don't think she really cares about the production. If we told her we were both going to work in a tiny theater in Manitoba, I doubt it would bother her very much, as long as we were all going there together." Valjean rubbed a hand over his face again. "She thought what you thought, that I was trying to take her away from you. I was a complete idiot."
Nodding, Javert crossed his arms across his chest. "I told you so." But he couldn't keep his lips from twitching, and Valjean broke into a grin. "You're right -- that felt good."
"I didn't think you'd ever admit I was right about anything." Valjean kept grinning. "Did you really talk to Simplice about our love life? I thought you didn't want me to go around telling people you have a ten inch cock."
Though he could not keep a small smirk from twisting his mouth, Javert tried to look stern. "I don't have a ten inch cock. Nine and a quarter, maybe."
With a bark of laughter, Valjean slid his arms low around Javert's hips so that he could shuffle him toward the bedroom. "And you're much too honorable ever to tell a lie." Javert let himself be propelled down the hall and through the doorway, even though either Cosette or Toussaint could have appeared and seen them pushing their hips together. "So can I do this?" inquired Valjean, pressing Javert back toward the bed.
Javert tried to look as if this were a great imposition instead of the only thing he wanted in the world right at that moment. "I suppose," he said, considering. "If you promise not to be an idiot about the fact that I'm not mad at you. Not more mad, I mean."
"I'll try not to be an idiot." Settling with him on the bed, Valjean slid an arm around Javert's waist, snuggling beneath his chin. "Am I allowed to ask why you aren't more mad?"
Javert had been asking himself that very question. He was inclined to believe that it was mostly relief. "I'm just glad it's all out in the open. Your past, our present. It's about time our daughter knew about -- well -- everything appropriate for someone her age to know."
"Our daughter knew things someone her age probably shouldn't have known before we told her," snorted Valjean, rubbing his nose against Javert's chest. "I love that you're calling her our daughter."
"After the way I've behaved since the news broke, no one in their right mind would ever try to take her away from me." He felt scarily confident about this, that he had frightened not just Valjean but Marius, Fantine, Gorbeau, the nun, and everyone else with whom he'd been in contact.
Valjean was peering up at him with an echo of that fear. "You really never thought it might be better for everyone if you took her and ran? Got her away from me? The court would probably take your side."
"Do you honestly think she'd want that? Or that I would?" He'd meant to pretend to smack Valjean upside the head, but only succeeded in ruffling Valjean's hair. "Idiot," he muttered to make up for it.
"She wouldn't want that. She doesn't want to have to choose between us, though I'm not positive any more that she'd choose me." Valjean squeezed his waist again. "But I've never been completely sure about you, till today."
It didn't sound as if Valjean was joking, so Javert shifted to look at him, though this required dislodging the arm comfortably around Javert's waist. "What part of not sure about me? That I'd stay with you or that I'd stay with the both of you?" When Valjean shrugged and refused to meet his eyes, Javert slid two fingers under his chin. "Are you sure now?"
Valjean glanced up before he lowered his mouth to kiss Javert's palm. "If you're here now...yes. I mean, I can't believe anything worse is going to come up. I don't have any more ruinous secrets from my past. You don't have any that I should know, do you?"
Javert couldn't help letting out a relieved chuckle, wriggling against Valjean as what Valjean's tongue was doing to his hand communicated itself to his groin. "I think everyone thinks mine's a publicist's invention for TV -- prison guard with absent parents. It sounds like a sob story some agent made up."
"Not any more," Valjean grinned, licking his hand. He knew full well what he was doing to Javert's dick. "They know we knew each other in prison. They'll probably say I turned you gay in prison."
"If you hadn't hated my guts for being a guard," retorted Javert, sliding his fingers through Valjean's hair again before he'd quite realized what he was doing. "If you'd even been looking."
"You were one of the decent guards, I didn't hate your guts, and I couldn't help looking," replied Valjean earnestly. Javert felt his cheeks flush. Back when he'd worked in the prison, he'd still been trying to convince himself that even if he couldn't stop being gay -- men could never really change that way -- then maybe he could be celibate and avoid entanglements. Valjean had made that impossible even to imagine. Javert tried to wriggle against him again, to encourage him to go back to what his mouth had been doing, and Valjean obliged him. "I'll never stop looking now. We should celebrate. In the usual way!"
Valjean's tongue moved across Javert's skin in a way that left no doubt what he meant, making Javert smile once more. "Romantic dinner and wine?" he asked, fluttering a hand behind Valjean's back.
"Oh -- are you hungry?" sputtered Valjean, looking sincerely disconcerted. "I know you didn't get much dinner. I thought, since Cosette's already asleep..."
Javert could not help smirking. "No, I'm not hungry. Unless you count an appetite for the things you do to me in bed."
A growl emerged from Valjean's throat. "Oh, you're getting all those things!" When Valjean made noises like that, Javert was never even sure he'd get his clothes off before he exploded, but Valjean had already reached out to start undoing his shirt buttons. "Let me. I screwed up enough today, I'm going to do this right."
"How do you plan to do that?" Javert tried to keep the same casual tone he'd used when he suggested dinner and wine, but he was enjoying being undressed and let it show as Valjean's fingers slid through his chest hair, pushing his shirt open.
"Depends on your mood. I know sometimes you like me submissive and babbling how much I want you..."
Javert couldn't hold back a moan as Valjean's fingers slid beneath his waistband. "Sometimes I like you growly and toppy," he pointed out.
With a loud growl, Valjean began to pull his pants off. "Exactly. Sometimes the best thing to do is to make you come so hard you forget to be grouchy."
Breathing faster, Javert added, "Or to make me come so hard I forget my own name."
"That's all right, I'm sure I'll be yelling it. You just better not forget mine." Valjean rose on his knees to take off his own shirt, taking his time, showing off. "The way I never forgot yours."
"I haven't forgotten anything about you." Seeing Valjean getting ready to fuck him, after getting him so worked up, had the strange effect of loosening Javert's tongue. "That goofy smile of yours, or the way you can never shut up after we have sex, or the way your voice catches just a little when you tell me you love me..."
Half-naked, Valjean paused, thumbs caught in the waistband of his own pants as he pushed them down. "Fuck, JV, who knew you were such a fucking romantic?"
"Such language, when you're supposed to be the romantic one." Javert tried not to look too pleased with himself. "I've been saving up."
"As long as you're not acting." The rest of Valjean's clothes went flying across the room. "You're good enough that you could be. Good thing I know you better than that."
"You know me better than anyone." As Valjean crawled naked up the bed, Javert wrapped his legs around him. Had he changed, or was this how it was meant to be all along? "You knew I wanted you before I was admitting it even to myself. And with Cosette. I didn't know I was lonely until --" Fuck, what was wrong with his tongue? Javert stopped talking, knowing that he had already said too much.
Even when fumbling with lube, Valjean could manage to look sappy. "I'm honored that you've let me know you. I'm honored that for some reason you decided you could trust me. I'm going to beat myself up forever for how stupid I was today, but I have other things to do now..."
A slick finger rubbed behind Javert's balls, making Javert's eyes roll back in his head. "Don't beat yourself up, just keep doing that!" Finally, Valjean was licking the head of his cock, making further conversation unnecessary as his fingers teased Javert's asshole, sliding in and out, stretching him. Javert could feel himself melting against the mattress.
But of course Valjean wasn't done talking. "When I say forever, I mean forever," he informed Javert between licks.
"Fine. I'm not going anywhere forever, so can we argue about it later?"
Valjean's hand replaced his mouth on Javert's cock. When Javert looked down, he was surprised to see him blushing. "You made it official with Cosette," Valjean said, already sounding breathless and needy, though Javert hadn't touched him. "Would you make it official with me?"
Was the lack of oxygen to his brain making Javert hallucinate, or was Valjean asking him to -- ? Javert's heart hammered in his chest. Maybe he'd misunderstood -- Valjean did, after all, have a religious background that might make him ridicule what Javert thought he meant, even if there were lots of places where it was legal now. Hands shaking, Javert cleared his throat. "I just said I'd stay forever. If that isn't a good enough answer, you'd better tell me exactly what the question is."
Nodding, Valjean bit down on his own lip, which was trembling too. He took a breath. "I should've known you'd want it formal. JV, please make me the happiest man in the world. Will you marry me?"
Even if he'd wanted to take time to think about what it would mean, Javert was already nodding with him, so breathless and lightheaded that he couldn't muster the strength to fight what he wanted with everything in him. "Yes. Told you I want forever."
A moment later what air remained in his lungs was knocked out as Valjean dove over him, kissing him. "I want that more than I've ever wanted anything. I never dreamed I'd have a chance, even all these months..." Oh fuck, Valjean was about to start blubbering again. "You aren't just saying yes so we can get on with the fucking and argue about it later, are you?"
"You really are an idiot. I'm saying yes because I want to marry you!"
"God, I've tried to imagine you saying that, but I never could." Valjean sniffled, though he was grinning like a fool. "I am an idiot. But I'm your idiot." He slid down in the bed, giving Javert's cock another passionate kiss, fingers trembling as they returned to their previous task.
Javert could only shake his head. "You're a complete idiot. You should have known I'd say yes." His fingers slid through Valjean's hair once more, making furrows in it. "Now you're going to have to do more than imagine it."
"I'll do it any way you want -- church, City Hall, anything, as long as we do it." Valjean shifted up again as he spoke, gazing at Javert, sliding slick fingers over his own cock. "And have a honeymoon somewhere romantic."
He finally had to stop speaking to concentrate, lining himself up, making sure Javert was ready before pressing inside. Javert bracketed his legs around him. "Somewhere we can do this on a private beach," panted Javert. He'd been thinking about it since their hiatus vacation.
Valjean slid in and out, groaning. "Somewhere with no photographers. Oh God, you say the sexiest things!" Javert squeezed around him. He would never be able to talk during sex as much as Valjean. "You inspire me and I want to make you come everywhere!"
Arched against him, cock pressed against his belly, Javert gasped, "This is pretty inspiring right now."
A moment later Valjean's fingers closed around him. "You do feel inspired! Inspired....hot...oh fuck!" Javert could only groan as Valjean thrust, hand moving on him. "If you could see how hot you look when you're inspired!"
"Not as hot as -- fuck -- just fuck me!" begged Javert, and for once Valjean obeyed him, changing the angle and tempo until Javert was howling nonsense, clutching at Valjean, convulsing against him, spurting all over his hand. Valjean moaned loudly, thrusting as Javert emptied his balls.
"I love it so much when you -- " A growl that turned into a grunt, then Valjean was coming inside him, making noise that weren't quite words. When next he could speak, Valjean gasped, "Love you, love you so much!"
"Yeah, me too." Valjean collapsed over Javert, sweat dripping onto him, and Javert felt himself grinning. Christ, but it was good not to have secrets and lies between themselves or anyone else, even if the world outside was falling apart as usual. "I have for a long time."
Valjean was still breathless, face against Javert's shoulder. "Careful," he panted. "From you, that's practically babbling."
"I've put up with it enough from you. I'm entitled." Javert let his fingers trail down Valjean's back. He felt possessive and greedy, like he deserved, for a change, to have everything he wanted. "And you had better never try to leave again."
"JV, I just asked you to marry me. Does that sound like I'm thinking about leaving?"
"Could've been the sex talking."
Valjean managed to raise his head. "You know how much I love you. Don't I babble it even when you don't want to hear it?"
"You always babble." Javert lifted his head so that he could kiss Valjean. "But I always want to hear that."
"Yeah, I know." Grinning against his lips, Valjean slid out of him. "Going to remind you of that the next time you complain that I talk too much." With a soft grunt, he dropped himself onto the mattress at Javert's side. "But I'm still going to keep saying it."
Pressing his lips together, Javert realized that he had probably made a tactical mistake, but he couldn't bring himself to complain. "Fine, but I reserve the right to complain about anything else. Especially in the morning."
"You usually do," Valjean chuckled, groping over the side of the bed for tissues. "I don't know why it took you so long to tell me you told me so." He wiped off Javert's belly and his own while speaking. "You know I was already beating myself up about it. I think I was pretending that if I never let Cosette find out, it would make it less my history. Except if it hadn't been my history, I wouldn't have met you."
"So as bad as it was, you wouldn't change it?" Javert thought about what Valjean had always imagined it would mean to have everything out in the open. "Cosette doesn't care. She said so."
Despite the tissues, Valjean's fingers were still sticky as he slid an arm around Javert's middle. "They could still write me off the show. Both of us, for that matter. I doubt right now they want to kill the goose that gives them golden ratings, but that might change in a few months." He gave a rueful chuckle. "Think Fantine will fight for our jobs the way we fought for hers?"
Fantine might still be a diva with a temper, but Javert thought that she would keep fighting for Valjean, if it came to that. "She probably would. If not, we'll find something else." He recalled his earlier misery when he had seen two roads before him, one with Valjean and one without -- he who had never in his life believed in anything but one straight path -- and he knew that he would always choose the path with Valjean, no matter what it meant giving up. "I've got some put by. We won't starve and we won't have to steal. We can always move into a smaller place."
"There are probably more valuable things I could be doing for the world than acting, anyway. Teaching, if anyone would hire me. Or helping ex-cons find jobs and places to live. Someone's going to have to take up where Lamarque left off."
"Maybe you can get the church to expand that retreat. Did you happen to mention your sexual orientation while you were there? They're sure to find out now. I hope the church people won't make trouble for Cosette over that."
"I made sure it was the kind of place that wouldn't before I ever enrolled her. They're Vincentian -- they're all about social justice. They might even help us get jobs if we get axed." With a rather unmanly giggle, Valjean squeezed his arm. "Or we could get jobs as waiters, or, I don't know, strippers."
"No husband of mine is stripping in front of a bunch of drunk men on the down-low," growled Javert. "No lonely single men are going to ogle your ass but me." He gave that ass a pinch to make his point.
Nodding, Valjean giggled again. "My ass is taken. You can keep taking it any time you want..." The suggestive wriggle was undercut by a yawn.
Javert felt like purring in satisfaction as Valjean burrowed against him. He stroked his side, loving the feel of him. "I'll hold you to that. Apparently I have a voracious sexual appetite."
"You can hold me any time you want, too. Even in public, now that everyone knows." With another yawn and stretch, Valjean tugged up the covers. "I'm going to keep you. Cosette won't let you leave either. You're ours now."
In the midst of the deepest contentment he had ever known, a frightening thought occurred to Javert. "You know that when we tell her, she'll want to help plan the wedding."
He felt as much as heard Valjean's groan of bemusement. "We'll have to wear purple ties or something. Probably with aliens on them."
"And serve pizza and rainbow ice cream." When Javert tried to picture this, he saw it as a snapshot through a window, with himself smiling in the way he hadn't known he could smile until he'd seen all those photos of himself and Valjean. Even now it made him break into a grin.
Valjean was gazing at him adoringly. "It'll be perfect, then. And we'll all belong to each other. I mean, I'm sure Cosette will meet someone else someday and break our hearts, but we'll still have each other."
"Forever," agreed Javert, fighting off a yawn of his own.
"Like two wings of the same spirit. Like finding the secret of life." Javert knew that he was forever fated to fall asleep listening to Valjean babbling. Fortunately, that suited him fine. He let his eyes close while Valjean's voice went on, "Like seeing the face of God. There's nothing better in the world than being in love."