Chapter Text
"....cinq...six...sept...huit..."
Javert's voice had taken on a warning, even menacing tone, and Valjean could not help smiling to himself as he heard the sounds of laughter and scurrying. Playing cache-cache had been Cosette's idea to get the children out from underfoot while the adults talked, but they had not even settled into their chairs before Fantine burst in to declare that Georges was not waiting the proper amount of time before coming to look for the others, and Javert had been recruited to enforce the rules.
Now even Marius was hiding somewhere in his own home while Valjean concealed himself between the curtains and wall next to the window in the library. He hoped that the curtains were long enough to cover his shoes. It was likely that Georges had cheated in the game just to force Javert to play with them. The children -- those whom Cosette had birthed, plus the two she and Marius had taken in when he discovered that they were sleeping in the street -- enjoyed nothing better than to be found and apprehended by Javert, who would often appear with a giggling, squirming child under each arm.
They rarely played the game in Valjean's home, which was much smaller and had few interesting places to hide. Invariably a child would open a drawer in his bedroom or a closet in the room they all had been told was Javert's, which made it necessary to keep up the appearance that Javert kept nightclothes in his own room and that Valjean did not keep anything naughty in the desk by the bed. He suspected it would be easier to explain away such items to Georges than to Marius, whose mortified reaction, when Cosette finally made clear to him the relationship between her father and Javert, had been, "But surely they are too old for such things!"
Indeed, thought Valjean with a sigh, they were getting too old for such things with the frequency and vigor of a few years before, but that did not stop him from wanting to touch Javert, to kiss him, to lean against him while he was reading, to curl up in his arms at night. Remembering the subject that Cosette had wished to discuss without the children present, he sighed again, asking himself how he could best satisfy the needs of everyone in his family, all of whom were precious to him.
"...vingt-cinq!" Now he could hear Javert's footsteps, which would be deceptively loud till they abruptly vanished. Javert could sneak up on the children more silently than a cat. Valjean did not expect to be the object of his pursuit in this game, so he was peering out the edge of the window at the garden, watching a bird among the flowers, not paying attention to the noises from the house, when a voice very near to him -- just on the other side of the curtain -- murmured, "You cannot hide from me, Jean Valjean."
A helpless smile pushed across his face. "I never could, chasseur. Though I have rarely tried." Indeed, Valjean's true name was as much a private endearment as chasseur, for Cosette's children did not know it. Valjean liked to think that if old Fauchelevent could look down from Heaven, he would be very happy to know of the generations that considered him a relation. "Now that you have caught me, will you carry me under your arm back to the parlor?"
"I'm tempted to do so but I don't wish to shock Marius. Again." They chuckled together softly on either side of the curtain. When Valjean pressed his hips forward, he could feel the sturdiness of Javert through the thick material. "That, for instance, is hardly behavior he would consider appropriate for a man your age."
"We could cut a hole in the curtain and pretend we were back at the wharf." Valjean's hand slid across the fabric, molding itself to the shape of Javert's thigh until it found the bulge that it was seeking. "I could get on my knees, and you could thrust your cock through the hole, and I could..."
The cock whose outlines he could barely feel through curtains and trousers twitched feebly against his fingers. "You are the most wicked of men," proclaimed Javert huskily. "I should carry you back and make an example of you."
"Surely you would not spank my bottom in front of the others? You would have to explain why your trousers have a lump in them." With a nearly silent giggle, Valjean gave the bulge another squeeze through the curtain. "Marius would ask us to leave his house and never come back instead of suggesting that we come live with them here."
Even with the fabric separating them, Valjean could feel Javert tense. "Is that what Cosette was talking to you about? And why they wanted to confer with us? I imagined they only wanted to tell us that they expect another baby."
"It seems they believe that we may be too old to be left on our own -- not right now, but in the future. We won't always be able to tend the garden or go to market for ourselves. Of course, that isn't what Cosette said. She only said that it made the children very sad to see us so seldom and that if one of us were to catch a bad cough as I did last winter, it would be much easier to care for us here without having to move us in the cold."
He felt Javert's hand press his own through the curtain. "She does make some sense." All at once Valjean wondered whether Javert had broached the subject with Cosette, for Javert had been terrified a few months past when Valjean had had a fever, though it had been gone in a few days.
"We won't be young and robust forever. And I think you would like to be closer to the children." Javert did not have to confess that he, too, had grown attached to the little imps, perhaps most of all when they came up with wildly creative explanations for why the rules were unfair and attempted to negotiate around them. "We wouldn't be a risk for them. The Thénardiers are long gone from Paris. I even think you would enjoy seeing more of Marius, now that he has devoted himself to working with the law."
"The thought of that man as a lawyer makes me shudder. He will try to make it legal to steal from the rich to give to the poor. I suppose that if he brings home more waifs who need a roof over their heads, you'll help him to feed them and expect me to help set them on the path to responsibility." But Valjean could hear the humor in Javert's tone. "If it would make you happy, mon cher, I would be willing. But I begin to wonder whether you're looking for a reason to push me out of your bed."
"You know perfectly well that I wouldn't consider coming here if I didn't believe we could continue to share a bed." Valjean wiggled his hips, making the curtain ripple between them. "The bedrooms in the north wing share a cabinet. No one would ever need to know where either of us slept."
"Except the maid," grumbled Javert. "Maybe it's because the children are getting old enough to ask questions that Cosette and Marius wish to change our situation." His hands slid up Valjean's arms, pressing the curtain fabric around him as if to demonstrate what a flimsy disguise it was to one who knew where to look.
"I hardly think we fool the maid when we visit, no matter how early you creep out of my room. Chasseur, I don't believe they would ask us to live here if they found our behavior offensive. They have always been content to overlook what must be apparent to anyone who visits our home, and they have never tried to shield the children from it. Will you think about it? I do worry about what would happen if one of us became very ill. I doubt that I could leave your side for long enough to fetch a doctor. And if something unexpected were to happen to either of us, we would need the family near.. I am certain that Marius would let you keep your beloved horse..."
Before Javert could reply, thumping footsteps could be heard, then a door swung open. "You are supposed to be looking for us!" cried Georges.
"I am looking. See, I have found your grandfather." Javert pushed the curtain to the side, revealing Valjean, who smiled at the boy and held his hands up in surrender. "I could not march him back to serve his penalty right away because he was praying." Slipping his hand into a pocket, Javert held up the rosary that had twice had to be restrung, but he refused to allow Valjean to give him a new one, just as Valjean refused to allow any object on his mantelpiece besides the Bishop's candlesticks.
Georges was not fooled. "I think you have been here all this time, talking about stupid adult things like the law!" With that, he turned and stomped out of the room, calling, "Uncle Javert is not even playing with us!"
"You see?" whispered Valjean. "You must spend more time with that boy and teach him proper respect for the law."
"On that subject, your entire family may be hopeless," muttered Javert.
Just then Cosette appeared in the doorway, since Georges had failed to close the door behind him. Seeing her silhouetted so, Valjean noticed what he had failed to see earlier, proving that Javert had lost none of his investigative skills, for Cosette indeed appeared to be expecting another child. He put a hand on his belly and tilted his head, asking a question which she answered with a wide smile and a nod. A grin of delight blossomed across his face as she stepped into the room.
"Surely Uncle Javert would not disobey the rules?" she asked coyly, then covered her eyes with a hand when she realized where they were standing. "Tell me my son did not find you kissing behind the curtains!"
"We were only talking, petit ange. Very respectably, on opposite sides of the curtain where Javert found me hiding -- those are the rules of jeu de cache-cache. What wicked things could we possibly do with the curtain between us?" When Cosette spread apart two of her fingers to peek at him, Valjean smiled at her again. "We were speaking about what you suggested."
"That you come live here with us? You have taken care of me for all my life, Papa, it is time that you let me take care of you. Uncle Javert, too. We owe you both so much."
"You are certain that Marius feels the same way?"
"I am entirely certain. You know how much he enjoys debating the law with you both -- he says it keeps his wits sharp. And since I promised always to tell you the truth, I will admit that we would be very glad of your presence when the children want attention. I know that you'll teach them about God and love just as you taught me." Her expression turned merry. "I expect that mon oncle will even try to impress upon them the necessity of obeying the rules."
Javert glanced from Valjean to Cosette. "Marius would let us occupy the north wing?" he asked.
"Certainly. None of us will bother you there. You could use the corner room as your own library, if you wished."
"We are happy to share our books. But your father is not a young man. He needs assistance keeping himself presentable." Valjean coughed quietly in protest, which did not deter Javert in the least. "He will not tolerate nurses or servants, only myself."
To her credit, Cosette did not even blink. "I understand," she said. "I'll have the doors removed between the cabinet and the bedrooms. That way you'll be able to reach him quickly if he should have trouble dressing or cleaning himself." At Valjean's splutter of outrage, she broke into a grin. "I shall explain to Marius that it embarrasses you to speak of such matters, so he should leave the arrangements to me." And with that, she darted out of the room.
"You are the most wicked of men," growled Valjean when she had gone. "You are the one who should have his bottom spanked. No -- I should have told her that you like to be groomed like a horse, or to hide your face behind a wall while a notorious criminal sucks your cock --"
"You would never dare." It was true that they were idle threats, but it had been worth murmuring the words just to watch Javert's face turn scarlet. "You would not want your daughter or her husband to know that we first came together in a game of find-the-treasure at the wharf in Montreuil. And that, even at your age, you still like to play cache-cache. In the bedroom. Naked."
"Chasseur, I fear they have long suspected." Grabbing the edge of the curtain, Valjean whirled it around them both, giving them a moment of privacy wrapped in the opaque material so that he could kiss Javert's mouth. "But they forgive us. They love me, and they love you. I believe we can --"
His words were interrupted by a high, shrill scream that made them try to leap apart, though the twisted tube of curtain nearly tore as they struggled to free themselves. "A mouse! I saw a mouse!" shrieked Jacques from the next room. "Get it out, take it away!"
"Our expertise in domestic matters is needed," said Javert solemnly, straightening his clothes.
"I don't know how they have survived without us here." Valjean nodded gravely in return, glancing down to be certain that he was presentable. "We shall have to make some effort to assist."
"When it comes to helping people to change for the better, I have never known you to fail, mon sauveteur. And we will be together."
"Always."
With mutual smiles, they headed for the doorway and the lively noises of their family beyond.