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Minds in the Gutter

Summary:

Post Seine: Valjean and Javert drink a bit too much and end up talking about Toulon. Then at some point Javert, being an oversharing drunk, starts talking about his own childhood and life; he detachedly and very matter-of-factly lists all the awful and shitty things that ever happened to him. Valjean gets to appreciate the fact that Javert never had it easy either and comforting ensues.

Notes:

For a prompt in the Valvert Gift Exchange
Beta’d by spock-and-the-221b-timelords, silverbird13, and lucrezianoin.
Hope you enjoy!

Work Text:

“Javert?” 

Valjean called as he walked in the door, his spirits still high from his dinner with his Cosette earlier that evening. Javert had managed to avoid going by some half-hearted excuse about ‘having to get some work done’.

“Christ!” He heard an annoyed voice groan, followed by a sharp thump. It came from the direction of the kitchen, and so Valjean quickly crossed the hall.As he stepped into the kitchen, he spotted the hunched figure of Inspector Javert sitting on the floor, nursing his knee. A half-empty wine bottle sat on the table above him, overseeing the scene.

Valjean expected him to have an annoyed expression on his face, or demand that he help him up, but he was surprised, however, to hear the booming laugh of the obviously intoxicated Inspector even as he remained on the floor.


“I didn’t hear you come in!” the younger man yelled through his laughter, attempting to push himself up off of the ground.

Valjean couldn’t stop himself from smiling adoringly at the other man, no matter how befuddled he was by his actions
“Let me help you, mon amour.”

“No, no. I am perfectly capable of getting myself up!”

“Mon cher, I believe you are impossibly drunk.”

There was little argument after that inescapable fact was stated, though it was difficult since Javert had burst into a fit of giggles before getting back onto his unsteady feet. Valjean sat him down at the kitchen table and took a seat beside him, noticing that his companion did not look as ‘out of it’ as he should given his previous predicament. 


“I thought you said you had work to accomplish,” Valjean inquired, moving his chair slightly closer to the other man. His hand found the inspector’s knee, softly examining the injury as best he could given their position.

“And I accomplished it… and then I thought - I would reward myself with a drink.” Javert slurred, moving to sit right next to Valjean, resting his head on his strong shoulder. “Or… a few drinksss.  Would you like a driiiink?” he continued, leaning closer to place soft kisses along Valjean’s neck.

The older man found it particularly difficult to think about anything other than the closeness of his partner, taking a few moments to revel in his warmth before answering that he did not desire a drink. Javert however, paid no attention even if he was to answer, concentrating all of his attention on suckling his partner’s neck as Valjean struggled to impart some wisdom.


“Javert…


“Hmm?” The other man’s chest rumbled with the sound, and the sensation coursed through Valjean’s body. It was beyond his control that his lips parted, and a soft breath escaped.

“You should really…get to bed…”

Valjean felt a low chuckle against his skin before Javert moved his lips away from the older man’s neck to grab the bottle of wine that was on the table in front of them.  Javert shook his head at his partner’s request, filling a glass for him. The liquid was a shocking, crimson red. The inspector himself drank straight from the bottle, and Valjean could not help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Fine. One drink. Then I am taking you to bed.”

“Oh really? Take me to bed?” He slurred seductively, running a strong hand up Valjean’s thigh, which caused him to let out a light groan. 

“…That is not what I meant.”

“Oh I am sure I know what you meant.” Javert smiled, continuing his movements on Valjean’s leg while as drank his wine.

Valjean knew he could not control himself if the movement continued. He grabbed the offending hand  and pushed it away.

Javert frowned. “Pleaaaaase?” he whined, trying to get his hands on his companion once again. “It is not my fault that you are so desirable when you sit there like that, pleaaase?”

“Javert…” He pleaded, putting down his empty glass and grabbing both of the other man’s hands in his own. “It is time for you to get to bed.”

Javert shook his head - a few strands of hair falling in his eyes - signalling that he was not about to be sent to bed like a child, even if he was acting similar to one.

“No? Then what do you propose we do , hm?” Valjean asked, tightening his grip on the inspector’s hands as he spoke. “Stay here and drink? Is that what you have been doing all night?” As he said this he met Javert’s usually cold, level gaze, smiling when he saw how full of complete adoration they were.

“Yes,” Javert nodded enthusiastically, paying no attention to the fact that Valjean was making sure that he kept his hands off of him,  simply leaning himself closer to the other man, and meeting their lips. Javert’s kiss was clumsy and wet, with too much tongue. Valjean took control of it, letting the other man’s hands go and bringing his own up to cup the side of the inspector’s unshaven face. Javert made a small noise of satisfaction in his throat.

After several moments they reluctantly broke apart, panting and leaning their foreheads against one another. “All right… I won’t force you to go to bed right now.”

Javert’s only response was to laugh triumphantly and pull Valjean closer to him, kissing him once again.

 

                                                                          ***


 

An hour later, the bottle of wine was completely empty, and both men lay dizzyingly drunk,  sprawled out on the sofa. Valjean was straddling Javert, their mouths sealed together as they lazily traced their hands along each other’s clothed forms, calling for the flesh underneath.

“You were right, this is much better than sleeping.” Valjean mumbled, catching his breath before softly kissing his partner once again.  Javert simply nodded in agreement, much too caught up in the attention that he was being lavished with at the moment to listen. Valjean’s hands stroked Javert’s cheeks, keeping their faces close.

“Mmm, Jean. You have such impossibly strong arms,” The younger man slurred as he gently caressed his lover’s biceps. Valjean let out a small chuckle at his words, pulling his lips off of Javert’s.  He was met with a disappointed whimper that was quickly replaced with one of pleasure as Valjean started to lightly nip at his earlobe.

“You have always been strong… even in Toulon. Did I ever tell you about how much I desired you then?”

Valjean didn’t reply, shaking his head as best as he could while he continued his movements on Javert’s skin, earning him a low groan.

“You were always so strong. Jean…You have no idea how infatuating you were,”

“Oh? I was, was I?” Valjean pulled his head up to look at Javert as he spoke. “You were not a sight I could pass up either, Inspector. No Hell could compare to Toulon, but knowing that I do not have to hide it from you, that you understand, makes me fear it no longer”

Javert smiled dreamily, bringing one of Valjean’s scarred wrists to his lips as he whispered against the marked skin. “I was born in prison,” He gulped mindlessly, finding that he was not nearly as afraid of speaking of his childhood at this very moment in time, as he had done the rest of his life, instead, there was only a strange feeling of relief, as though weight was dropping off his shoulders. “I was not an… easy child to handle. They were good to have kept me around at all, you know.”

“I’m sorry.” Valjean couldn’t think of much else to say in his current state. He lay his head down onto Javert’s chest, feeling the vibrations of his body as he continued, not wanting the other man to feel that he should stop on his accord. 

“I only lived there until I was maybe five, when my mother was released.  I rarely saw her while she was imprisoned” He stated, fingers running through Valjean’s grey hair. “…Once I tried to see my mother, though I was not permitted to. A guard caught me… of course, I was punished. Though that was to be expected.”

Valjean felt the man sigh beneath him, but couldn’t stop himself from wondering if Javert was well enough to be discussing this. “It was not so bad after my mother was released, I remember. I was a child living on the streets by then, but anything that could happen to me would be ultimately my own fault. Nothing could possibly be as awful as what I had gotten away from.” All Valjean could do was keep his eyes on Javert, not wanting to think about the horrors of his childhood.  At least, Valjean thought, he had known a family for a time, while Javert had only known a cold isolation.

“I traveled from place to place with my mother, she was a fortune teller, did you know? We never stayed anywhere for long, of course, fortune-telling being illegal… One time, I had been out walking alone, my mother was with a client, and other children started to throw sticks, food, anything that they could at me.  That event wasn’t an isolated one, either. They thought I was scum…because of how I looked, who my mother was.”

Valjean was momentarily speechless - He had always thought that Javert had experienced, if not an ideal youth, than at least a safe, bland one similar to his own.  After all, hadn’t the feared inspector had always been that way, even as a child? Though they were very much “together”, as one would say, Valjean had never known much about Javert’s past. If he would ask, the younger man would avoid any questions, and Valjean accepted that, figuring that the inspector did not feel the need to share every aspect of his life. He was, after all, a very private man, similar to Valjean himself.

Several moments passed before Valjean could collect his thoughts.

“Javert-” he started, leaning down to press a comforting kiss to his lover’s forehead. The other man opened his eyes, and slowly righted himself upon the sofa. Valjean got off of him, sitting down beside the younger man and wrapping his arm around him. Javert hesitantly leaned into the embrace, his head resting on Valjean’s shoulder as hands soothingly caressed his arm.

“You do not need to speak of this any longer.” He tightened his embrace around Javert, doing his best to help ease the pain of the past dredged up through the conversation, but at the movement Javert pulled himself away from Valjean, leaving an empty space between the two of them.

 ”Perhaps we should get some sleep” Javert mumbled, looking down at his hands.

Valjean did not make another move to touch him, seeing that for some odd reason Javert did not want to be near him. “Javert-I love you.”

He hoped that confession would be enough to comfort the man beside him.

Javert simply nodded, with a small smile present on his lips, then joined their hands as they got themselves up from the sofa and made their way to the bedroom.

They only bumped into the furtiture six times on the way before falling onto the bed and passinng out.

                                 

                                                                             ***

 

Valjean woke the next morning to Javert on top of him, snoring at an almost alarming rate. He chuckled, and then groaned at the fire burning in his head, like a furnace. Never again would he allow the younger man to talk him into drinking so much!

“Je-” Javert’s speech was cut off by a groan, rolling off of Valjean and laying his hand on his head. “It feels as though  a carpenter has taken residence inside my skull. My head must have grown two sizes at least? Do I look different to you?” he complained, looking over at the man beside him and letting out another groan.

“Good morning to you too, Javert,” he laughed, finding it hilarious that the younger man could describe his pain so well.

“Never allow me to drink again.” Javert muttered, completely covering his face with his hands as he spoke.

“But then you would not be so eager to kiss me.”

“I could never tire of kissing you.” Javert chuckled, removing his hands from his face, and leaning over to place a loving kiss on the older man’s lips. “I did not overly embarrass myself last night did I? I do not remember a single thing, not even finishing that blasted report… And why in God’s name does my knee hurt so much!?”

Valjean let out the smallest of laughs, the memories of last night’s discussion mixing with relief.

“You were very… affectionate.”

“As usual?” He teased, groaning again at the pain in his head. Every word sounded like a ferocious drumbeat passing through his ears, impossibly loud. “How was dinner with Cosette?”

“Good, good.” Valjean answered, rolling onto his side.

Maybe Valjean wouldn’t explain to Javert what he had detailed while intoxicated.  Perhaps one day, Javert could tell him on his own.

“Why did you not close the curtians?!”

Valjean was unable to contain his loud laugh as the watched the cowering Inspector Javert take refuge underneath his pillow.

 

 

END