Jehan Prouvarie

my headcanon for Enjolras’ first name is Georg because “average person starts 1 revolution a year” factoid actualy just statistical error. average person starts 0 revolutions per year. Georg Enjolras, who lives in cafe & starts over 10,000 revolutions each day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted.

"They don’t count." Jehan laughed. "I’ll have you speaking holiday italian by the time we get to italy. Fluently by the end of the week. I’ve been told I’m a great teacher."

"I never was a very good student, but I’ll do my best," Grantaire promised as they made their way to the front of the line. "But, hey, at least I’ll have it made if we go to a restaurant."

"We'll have to be able to afford a meal out first." Jehan chuckled. "Unless we worked in one."

"Do you really think I’d be so cruel as to tease you so?" Jehan whispered softly as he stroked Grantaire’s hair. "I love and value you too much to do such a thing. Take me and I’ll be yours as you’ll be mine. We’ll kiss beneath the stars in a drunken haze of love and affection."

"Never cruel, never," Grantaire whispered, overwhelmed. He raised a shaking hand to dash away tears. "Jehan…" He levered himself to a sitting position and threw his arms around him, burying his face in his neck and touching a hesitant but tender skin to the flesh there. "That sounds perfect," he breathed.

"Let's go to bed R." Jehan whispered softly as he gripped Grantaire's hand and kissed it softly. "It's more comfortable to cuddle there than folding in on ourselves here." 

Combeferre offered a sympathetic smile before carefully working the material completely off of the poet’s shoulder. “Just breathe, I know it’s not comfortable..”

"I’d be concerned if you didn’t understand with you training to be a doctor and all." Jehan muttered. Glaring at the wall.

Combeferre offered a sympathetic smile, “it’s okay.. You’ve done well…” He set the linen aside and stood, deciding to fetch the alcohol for the poet.

"Clearly not. I missed." Jehan grumbled as he made a grab for the alcohol.

Jean tightened his grip on his brothers thigh in warning before tonguing the tip of his cock.

Jehan moaned, and opened his legs. “Feels good.”

He wrapped his lips around the head of his cock sucking lightly as he moaned around him.

"Mush." Jean muttered softly as he kissed across his brothers jaw.

Jehan giggled at the other. “Love you.”

"I know." He whispered nipping at Jehan's jaw.

"Well you’re beautiful and you’re amazing and a creative lover." She she smirked.

"Is that it?" Jehan pouted.

"No but we’d be here all night if I got to explain them all."

"Do we have any other plans?"

"That’s what you think." She laughed and pulled herself close to him. "Now I’m not complaining because it is great but that’s not the only reason."

"Then do enlighten me my love." He whispered as he wrapped his arms tightly around Bailey.

"Well you’re beautiful and you’re amazing and a creative lover." She she smirked.

"Is that it?" Jehan pouted.

"I don’t think you do." She smirked clearly wanting round two.

"Do I need to prove it again my darling? Light of my life. Apple of my eye. Dimaond in my sky." He sang as he pulled Bailey into the street and spun her round.

"Maybe when we get home." She smirked and turned with him. "That was amazing."

"I aim to please my love. We’ve covered this." Jehan chuckled.

"And you do such a very good job." She smiled kissing him again.

"It’s the only reason you date me." He joked.

"That’s what you think." She laughed and pulled herself close to him. "Now I’m not complaining because it is great but that’s not the only reason."

"Then do enlighten me my love." He whispered as he wrapped his arms tightly around Bailey.

Jean hummed around his cock. Letting his hands slowly move up Jehan’s thighs.

Jehan moaned loudly. “God darling, feels so amazing.”

Jean tightened his grip on his brothers thigh in warning before tonguing the tip of his cock.

"Please." Jehan whispered. Raising his arms over his head so Combeferre could pull the shirt off him. "I want you to control this. To control me. Please." He purred arching off the bed slightly.

"Of course, whatever you need, love," Combeferre promised, slipping his shirt off and setting it aside before drawing his hands down the poet’s bare chest and across his belly. He pulled back and started to unbutton his own shirt.

Jehan practically purred as Combeferre ran his hands over his chest, bringing his own arms down by his side. Pushing himself up on his elbows so he could watch 'Ferre unbutton his own shirt, before sitting up properly to push the shirt off Combeferre's shoulders and kissing his chest.

"They’d hardly just be for Courf’. They’d be for us." Jehan whispered softly as he kissed R’s temple. "Courf’ would just happen to know about the undoubtedly glorious sex we’d be having and be poking fun instead of sitting in the corner jealous for the rest of his life. Because I’d have you and you’d have me."

Grantaire made a soft sound as Jehan kissed him, looking up with watery eyes. He hoped he didn’t sound half as desperate as he felt as he whispered, “Please say it’s not all hypothetical… You having me, and me having you…” He turned his face into his friend’s lap to hide his face. “God, I want that.”

"Do you really think I'd be so cruel as to tease you so?" Jehan whispered softly as he stroked Grantaire's hair. "I love and value you too much to do such a thing. Take me and I'll be yours as you'll be mine. We'll kiss beneath the stars in a drunken haze of love and affection."

Grantaire grinned at him as he waited for their turn, heart racing. Part of him could hardly believe it, that he was really about to escape everything, his parents, even the country, and start over somewhere else. “Do you speak Italian?” he asked suddenly.

"Abbastanza bene per sopravvivere? Probabilmente. Beh speriamo." Jehan said quickly. "I started to learn because of poetry. Ah to have a poets heart."

"I’ll take that as a yes," Grantaire laughed. "Impressive. Could you teach me? Even a little, enough to get by? I’m afraid I don’t know any. I mean, assuming spaghetti and calzone don’t count."

"They don't count." Jehan laughed. "I'll have you speaking holiday italian by the time we get to italy. Fluently by the end of the week. I've been told I'm a great teacher."