"I can't wait for the revolution to finally start so we will not have to go to these tedious meetings again," Courfeyrac complained. "Particularly not ones like there, Enjolras wouldn't even let me hold your hand. He said it distracted me too much."

Jehan couldn't help but smile. "Well, doesn't it?"

"Of course it does." He said, giving a flirtatious wink in Jehan's direction.

The poet's hand reached for Courfeyrac's and their fingers intertwined. "I am not sure if I want this revolution to start so soon, though. I have complete and utter faith in Enjolras and our friends, but I fear the people may not be ready yet. We should go out in the streets more," said Jehan.

Courfeyrac tightened his grip on Jehan's hand to express the unspoken. Neither of them wanted to die yet. They both wanted to believe in this revolution with all their hearts -and most of the time they did, but still the thought of dying had secretly entered their minds a few times. "I know, I was only joking."

Jehan was about to answer when all of a sudden someone passed him by and let their shoulders collide roughly.

This would not have been a problem for Jehan if it wasn't for the with hatred drenched remark the passerby chose to fling at their heads. This one didn't seem particularly fond of the idea of two young men sharing a bed.

"Pardon me, monsieur," said Jehan while he turned around to face the person who despised them so much. It was a man around the age of 35. He was quite short, and although his face wouldn't be considered ugly by normal standards, Jehan didn't find him good looking at all. He thought the man pretty evil looking, if he were being honest.

"I didn't think your use of words to be very nice. I would appreciate it if you kept those words to yourself next time." He didn't feel like more arguing, he had planned on an evening cuddling with Courfeyrac while he made him a crown of the flowers they had picked this afternoon, so he decided to let it go and turned around to walk away. He was pulled back, however, by Courfeyrac who hadn't moved.

"Come along, Courfeyrac. There's better things to spend our time on." Jehan gave his hand a nudge in an attempt to get him along.

It almost worked, the muscles in Courfeyrac's face already started to relax, but then the stranger felt the need to shout another insult. That was the wrong move, and Courfeyrac's hand let go of Jehan's to grab the short man by his throat and pressed him against the wall.

The man forcefully pushed his knee between Courfeyrac's ribs, but the grip on his throat didn't loosen. He tried punching and scratching Courfeyrac, but the grip on his throat didn't loosen. It was only when he hit his head against Courfeyrac's with a sickening sound that Courfeyrac let go. Fortunately Courfeyrac's wild curls softened the blow for him, but he still felt pretty dizzy.

Jehan thought that was more than enough harm for one evening and pulled the still slightly disoriented Courfeyrac away from the other man. "That's enough. Let's go home," he said as he turned to lead Courfeyrac home.

Just from the corner of his eye Jehan could see the other man moving, and it seemed to him he was going to attack Courfeyrac again. In the blink of an eye Jehan turned around to prepare for necessary defense.

When the stranger lunged forward to tackle Courfeyrac, his face had a very unpleasant meeting with Jehan's fist and he tumbled backwards, landing on the hard pavers of the street. This time it didn't look like he was going to be a danger to them again.

Jehan placed his -now slightly bruised from the blow- hand on the small of Courfeyrac's back and pushed him forward to get out of here as soon as possible.

"Maybe we should not go out in the streets more. Let's go to that grass field with those flowers you adore so much," Courfeyrac said, carefully taking Jehan's head again.

Jehan's anger almost didn't allow him to smile. "That sounds like a great idea for tomorrow."

By the time they were back at their flat, the cool evening air had done both of them good and their moods had lightened.

While Courfeyrac lightened some candles, Jehan made the sofa comfortable for both of them and they curled up on the couch together. When Jehan wrapped his arms around Courfeyrac's torso, the other flinched for a moment. "Are you all right?" he asked worriedly, loosening his grip.

Courfeyrac guided Jehan's arms around his torso again, he liked it when Jehan held him tight, the pain wasn't that bad. "Yes, it's a bruise, most likely." Jehan wasn't convinced, so Courfeyrac tried again. "It's nothing serious. Please don't get Combeferre or Joly to come over, your company is the only company I crave right now."

This answer seemed to please Jehan. "Whatever you say, mon amour." He buried his cheek in Courfeyrac's curls and enjoyed the scent of him while Courfeyrac grabbed Jehan's bruised hand, brought it to his lips and kissed the knuckles. "Will you still be able to braid flowers into your hair?"

Jehan smiled. "Pretty sure I will. And otherwise I'll just have to teach you so you'll finally do it right for once." When he received a playful nudge from his soul mate, he got an idea. "Wait here, I know what we need right now." He tucked Courfeyrac in before he left the room. "Don't fall asleep just yet!" then he disappeared into the bathroom.

When all preparations were finished, Courfeyrac had begun to slip away into the land of dreams.

Jehan nudged him and kissed his cheek. "Wake up, Courf. I've got something you will enjoy more than sleeping."

While getting up, Courfeyrac almost knocked over a candle. "More than sleeping? Are you sure?"

The poet grinned. "I am sure." he lead Courfeyrac to the bathroom.

It was lit by rose scented candles, and the bathtub was filled with steaming hot water, a couple of rose petals floating on the surface. "The way you enjoy it most." Jehan couldn't help but feel a bit proud he remembered that detail from a couple of weeks ago.

"The way I enjoy it most is with you in it with me." Courfeyrac grinned and leaned in for a deep kiss.

After a couple of seconds, Jehan broke away slowly. "You're welcome," he said. "Now go on, try it before it gets cold."

As they both undressed, Jehan couldn't help but stealing a glance at Courfeyrac's stomach, but the bruises didn't seem too bad and a wave of relief washed over him.

Once in the bathtub, Courfeyrac once again positioned himself in between Jehan's legs, his back against Jehan's stomach. They both had to draw their legs in a bit because the tub wasn't that big, but it didn't bother them. The water just about didn't burn their skins and it relaxed their muscles almost immediately.

As Courfeyrac rested his head on Jehan's chest, Jehan reached for some flowers and started braiding them into Courfeyrac's wet hair. They wouldn't stay in place though, most of them slid out again and continued to float on the surface of the water.

"Are you sure you can still braid flowers into my hair," asked Courfeyrac teasingly, "or do I have to teach you so you'll finally do it right for once ?"

Jehan gave a gentle tug at Courfeyrac's hair. "My hand isn't the problem: your hopeless curls are, especially when they're wet."

"Well then, give up on the curls and just cuddle with me for a while," Courfeyrac suggested. His eyes were closed, enjoying the touch of warm water and Jehan's skin.

"Hm." Jehan couldn't help but giving it another try and successfully fastened a flower in Courfeyrac's hair. "Now I'm prepared to cuddle." he said before wrapping his arms around his lover and resting his head on his shoulder.