Archive of Our Own

Jehan had been wearing long sleeves for as long as any of his friends could remember. Enjolras had never noticed until the little poet moved in with him. Even when it was incredibly hot in their apartment (as they had large windows and insufficient window coverings), Jehan kept his oversized sweaters on. Enjolras wasn’t sure what it meant, but he thought Combeferre had some idea of what was going on.

“Does he ever take his sweater off? Even when you guys are home?” Combeferre had asked.

“I’ve never seen him without one. Why? Do you know anything about it?” Enjolras told him.

“Well, I just really hope what I think might be happening, isn’t happening,” Combeferre said with a sigh, looking at Jehan from across the room. Enjolras didn’t know what to say, so he just let the conversation end there.

A few days later though, Enjolras received some answers. He had just finished class and came home to start working on the essay his history professor had just assigned. When he came in, he was immediately hit with a wave of heat. The late afternoon sun was shining brightly through the large west-facing windows, lighting up the living room. Jehan was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor, books and papers spread out around him and a notebook balanced on one knee. His sweater sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. Enjolras quietly walked around him, and when he came into Jehan’s view, Jehan gave a surprised start, which sent his notebook flying several feet from him where it landed under the sofa.

“Oh, Sacha, you scared me. I didn’t hear you come in,” Jehan said nervously as he quickly tugged down his sleeves, but it was too late. Enjolras had seen. He sat down on the floor in front of Jehan and took one of the smaller man’s hands in his own. He gently pushed up his sleeve.

“Don’t...” Jehan said quietly. His free hand was partially covering his face.

“Oh Jehan...” Enjolras said as gently as he could. 

Jehan’s thin, pale forearm was littered with scars of varying size, shape, and color. Some were thin and white, others thick. pink, and raised. They crisscrossed over his arm like the lacing of a corset. There were a few scars that were small and round, like they might have been cigarette burns, and in other places it looked as if Jehan had simply scratched through his skin with his own fingernails.

A tear slipped down Jehan’s cheek which he quickly wiped away with his sleeve, hoping Enjolras hadn’t seen, but he had.

“How long has this been going on?” Enjolras asked, lightly running his thumb over one of the more raised scars.

“Since I was about twelve or thirteen,” Jehan said meekly, his voice barely audible.

“Why?” Enjolras asked, looking up at Jehan’s downcast eyes.

“Sometimes everything just gets to be too much, you know? Everyone has different ways of coping with life. I mean, Grantaire drinks, you smoke too much, and I...” Jehan trailed off with a small sniffle.

“When was the last time you did this?” Enjolras asked.

“About two years ago,” Jehan said, still not making eye contact.

“That’s good. You don’t need to be hurting yourself like this,” Enjolras said.

“I’ve really been wanting to lately though. Things have been really tough,” Jehan almost whispered.

“Hey, it’s all gonna be okay.” Enjolras said, lifting Jehan’s chin and forcing him to make eye contact. “Do you understand? You can get through this. You’re stronger than you think you are.” 

“I just don’t know what to do, Sacha,” Jehan’s stormy gray eyes were filled with tears.

“If you ever feel like hurting yourself again, I want you to come and find me. You can always talk to me. You know that, right? I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” Enjolras said, tucking a lock of hair behind Jehan’s ear. He was usually terrible at comforting people, but Jehan always had a talent for bringing out a softer side of him.

“Promise?” Jehan whimpered.

“I promise, absolutely,” Enjolras said with a small smile, lightly brushing his thumb over Jehan’s cheek and wiping away a tear.

“I love you, Sacha. You’re a good friend,” Jehan said softly.

“I love you too, kid,” Enjolras replied, pulling Jehan into a hug. “You’ll get through this, I promise. You’re a fucking warrior deep down.” He pressed a kiss to Jehan’s brow, and held him as the poet shook and cried in his embrace.

Enjolras softly traced patterns over Jehan’s back and made soothing sounds. Jehan’s hands were fisted in Enjolras’ shirt.

“Is there anything I can do for you now?” Enjolras asked, pulled back slightly from Jehan. “Do you want me to make you a cup of tea, or something?”

“Please,” Jehan said. When Enjolras stood up, Jehan hugged his knees to his chest and softly rocked back and forth.

Enjolras went to the kitchen and put the kettle on, taking out two mugs and two bags of Jehan’s favorite chamomile tea. While he waited for the water, he went back to Jehan and knelt down beside him.

“Hey, why don’t we move you up to the sofa?” Enjolras said, lightly placing his hand on Jehan’s back. “Come on, I’ll carry you.”

Jehan let go of his knees and stretched out his arms, hooking them around Enjolras’ neck. Enjolras scooped the little man up off the floor and carried him across the room, setting him gently on the sofa, where he curled up into a little ball.

“Now that I know what you’ve been trying to hide, do you want to take your sweater off? It’s still really hot in here. You’ll be more comfortable,” Enjolras asked.

“I guess so,” Jehan said, but he made no motion to remove his sweater.

“Here...” Enjolras said, softly positioning Jehan so he could get the hem of his sweater. He gently pulled the sweater over Jehan’s head. Enjolras tossed the sweater onto the chair across from the sofa, and smoothed down Jehan’s hair. The kettle whistled, and Enjolras pressed a quick kiss to the top of Jehan’s head, before going to the kitchen to make their tea.

He came back into the living room and sat down next to Jehan, handing him a mug of tea. Jehan crossed his legs and held the mug in his lap, watching the tea steep. Enjolras set his own tea on the small table beside the sofa, and then proceeded to untie the ribbon holding Jehan’s hair in a braid. He gently ran his fingers through Jehan’s dirty blond hair, loosening the plait.

Jehan took a few sips of his tea, and then reached across Enjolras to set it on the table. He wrapped his arms around Enjolras’ waist and buried his face in his neck. Enjolras twisted locks of Jehan’s hair around his fingers, and Jehan hummed against his neck contentedly.

“I know you’ll get through this. You’ll come out the other side, and you’ll be a stronger person. And I’m here for you. I’m always here for you. We all are. Don’t ever forget that,” Enjolras whispered softly. Jehan pulled back slightly, and looked at Enjolras tentatively.

Enjolras ran his fingers along Jehan’s jaw, and Jehan leaned into the touch, letting his eyes slip closed. Enjolras slowly leaned in, and lightly pressed his lips to the corner of Jehan’s mouth in a whisper of a kiss. Jehan gave a small smile and blushed slightly. He looked up into Enjolras’ eyes, and Enjolras observed that Jehan’s tears were gone.

Enjolras kissed along Jehan’s jaw, and bowed his head, pressing kisses to Jehan’s neck.

“Is this okay?” Enjolras asked, before continuing any further.

“It’s wonderful,” Jehan said, tilting his head so Enjolras could continue kissing his neck.

Enjolras straightened up again and cupped Jehan’s face in his hand and gently brushed his lips against Jehan’s, before pulling back almost immediately. Jehan responded eagerly, pressing his lips against Enjolras’ in a more proper kiss. He kissed him again, and again, and before Enjolras knew it, Jehan was pushing him back down onto the sofa and straddling him, his hands tangled in Enjolras’ blond curls. Enjolras ran his hands up and down Jehan’s back, feelings the bumps of Jehan’s spine and slotting his fingers between his ribs. 

It seemed as though Jehan had lost weight.

“Why have we never done this before?” Jehan whispered against Enjolras’ lips.

“I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t think you’d be into it. I mean, Courfeyrac...” Enjolras said.

“What about him? It’s not like we’re together or anything. And you and me. We’re just friends. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Sometimes people just need to kiss. And feel close to someone. And you’re here. So I’ll kiss you,” Jehan said, punctuating each sentence with a kiss. Enjolras smiled against Jehan’s lips.

Jehan tucked his face into Enjolras’ neck and lightly kissed the smooth skin. Enjolras tangled his hand in Jehan’s hair, and Jehan hummed as he relaxed against Enjolras. The sun was beginning to sink down below the horizon.

“Sacha?” Jehan murmured, his voice tentative.

“Hmm?”

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight? I just really don’t want to be alone,” Jehan asked.

“Of course you can. You can anytime you want,” Enjolras said, tracing soothing circles across Jehan’s back.

“I’m sleepy. But I still have so much work to do...” Jehan mewled.

“You can do it tomorrow. Come on, let’s go to bed,” Enjolras said. He sat up, still holding onto Jehan. The little poet wrapped his legs around Enjolras’ waist, and his arms around his neck. Enjolras stood up, carefully lifting Jehan. He carried him down the hall and into his room, setting him down gently on the red duvet. Enjolras crawled onto the bed next to Jehan, slipping off his shoes. Jehan pulled him in for another kiss, and set to work unbuttoning Enjolras’ flannel shirt. He threw the shirt on the floor next to the bed and pulled Enjolras’ undershirt over his head, delighting in the feel of bare skin under his hands.

Enjolras moved to unbutton Jehan’s plum purple jeans, and he pulled them down as Jehan wiggled out of them. Enjolras rested his hand on Jehan’s sharply protruding hip bone, and pushed up the mustard yellow tank top Jehan was wearing, brushing his fingers over the sensitive skin of Jehan’s stomach. Enjolras smiled at the small gasp that he elicited from Jehan.

Jehan reached down to unbutton Enjolras’ jeans and slip them off, tossing them onto the floor with the rest of their clothes. Enjolras moved down and pushed Jehan’s shirt up farther so he could cover Jehan’s stomach in light butterfly kisses, flicking his tongue over Jehan’s navel piercing.

“Sacha?” Jehan said softly.

“Hmm?” Enjolras hummed against Jehan’s skin.

“I don’t want to have sex. Not tonight. I just don’t really feel up to it,” Jehan said hesitantly.

“That’s perfectly okay. I just want you to feel good,” Enjolras said, moving back up to kiss Jehan on the cheek.

“Maybe another time?” Jehan asked.

“Whatever you want, kid,” Enjolras said with a smile. He pulled the duvet up over them and wrapped his arms around Jehan, as the smaller man snuggled in close, burying his face in Enjolras neck, their legs tangled together. Enjolras ran his hand down Jehan’s arm and frowned as he noticed he could almost completely encircle Jehan’s upper arm with his fingers.

“I love you, Sacha,” Jehan mumbled against Enjolras’ skin as he hugged him tighter.

“I love you too, Jehan,” Enjolras said, breathing in the floral scent of Jehan’s hair as he kissed the top of his head. Jehan hummed contentedly, and it wasn’t long before they were both lulled to sleep, listening to the beating of each other’s hearts.