Behind the Cut

[personalmephistopheles]

Fandom: Les Miserables
Rating: E
Setting: Modern au
Characters: Bahorel, Feuilly
Primary Pairings: Bahorel/Feuilly
Word Count: 1509 

General Summary: Bahorel has a bad habit of interrupting Feuilly when he's trying to get things done, and over time, it's become a sort of game that they play, but eventually Feuilly's had quite enough. 

Author’s Note: I wrote this in early April 2013 for a friend who requested it.


It had almost become a sort of game between them. There weren’t really any rules to the game so much as it was just Bahorel pushing buttons and seeing just how far he could get before he got hit, or otherwise chastised into retreating. So when Feuilly heard the other man slip, as soundlessly as he was capable of being, into the flat, it was all he could do not to let an irritated sigh escape his lips before he returned to slicing vegetables. At least he wasn’t drunk this time - not with how quiet he had managed to be.

The game always began like that. Bahorel would attempt to get the jump on his flatmate - always unsuccessfully - and start in slowly, by his standards anyway, and then escalate things as far as he could before being told to fuck off. So when one of Bahorel’s hands slipped under his shirt to rest against the small of his back, Feuilly didn’t even flinch.

"'Evening." Bahorel’s breath was warm against the back of his ear, and his knife stuttered imperceptibly against a pepper.

"Bit past that," he replied mildly, his knife hand slipping easily back into its original rhythm despite a slight shiver traversing the length of his body as the hand under his shirt slid up his spine a little ways.


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