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Jean Valjean wakes to the salty breeze of the ocean and soft crashing of the nearby waves wafting into their room.
Stretching carefully and realizing that his body feels like an old man has spend all his time yesterday playing with his grandchildren at the beach.
He moans discreetly, when a few muscles complain of his movements, yet lets his hand trace the other side of the bed, until his fingertips find warm skin.
A smile and a soft sigh escape him, while he listens to Javert's breathing, still deeply asleep.
His back and hips are sore, and his legs could use a couple of days rest, but his wish to be closer to Javert wins out.
Jean Valjean rolls onto his side carefully and rests his forehead against the expanse of Javert's back.
He smells enticing and Jean Valjean breaths in deep, tracing the edge of the thin blanket against his hipbone.
His eyes are still closed, because the sun is already bright enough to hurt, but his fingertips trace up over the planes of Javert's side and back.
He knows it is sun-tanned and muscular, yet not as hairy as his chest and Jean Valjean gives into the urge to taste his skin with his lips.
His lips caress the warm skin of his back, while is hand finds its way to his chest, the short hair there tingling and soft.
As all his senses are focusing on Javert, the pain in his own body becomes a distant ache.
Some part of Jean Valjean is aware, that Javert has come awake, but most of him cherishes these quiet, stolen moments to much to let him know.
His calloused fingertip finds his nipple and swirls around the tiny nub, while his other hand reaches over his head and glides against Javert's exposed neck and into his hairline.
Jean Valjean darts his tongue out without conscious thought, when goosebumps bloom on Javert's skin, and licks into the groove of his lower back.
A sudden urge to taste that soft moan on his lips, makes him bolder and he lets his sensitive tongue glide against the outline of Javert's spine, making the younger man shiver against him.
When his lips reach the groove between Javert's shoulder blades and his nose traces against the nape of his neck, his bearded jaw is gripped by strong fingers.
Jean Valjean's eyes fly open momentarily, but fall shut once more, when Javert's body turns into his and their lips meet.
This time it is his own body which shivers and his fingers in Javert's hair tighten almost painfully, but he is barely aware of any discomfort.
Javert's kiss is precise and thorough, and Jean Valjean's hand finishes tracing his torso and finds purchase against his trim waist.
His hand moves on its own accord to outline his hipbone and caress the subtle give of his belly, as soon as Javert has firmly turned on his back.
Jean Valjean pushes himself up and over him, while Javert's hand against his jaw moves affectionately to lay against the back of his neck.
Javert's kiss remains tender and unhurried and Jean Valjean doesn't know what to feel with all this love blooming in his chest.
But he registers, that his hip aches, laying on his side like this and if he keeps his arm as his support much longer his shoulder joint will cry out in protest.
He can feel Javert's body move, and a pained groan escapes his lips, when Javert's strong tight slips between his legs and presses sensually against his groin.
Before anything else can register, Javert has switched his free hand against his neck and brought his overstretched arm back against his body, his own arm a firm support against his back.
Jean Valjean relents gratefully and gives Javert most of his weight, and is rewarded with Javert's hand curling against his buttocks, nestling Jean Valjean's tight securely against his own groin.
Other than Jean Valjean, Javert is fully hard, throbbing and hot, but still mostly focused on Jean Valjean's comfort, molding his body into an almost painless position.
Jean Valjean knows Javert's body just as well and it is only a minuscule movement of his hand to let his fingertips grace the sensitive head.
Both of them moan in unison, and while Javert finally sweeps his velvet tongue into his mouth, Jean Valjean grips him firmly in his calloused palm.
It won't take long for this partner to spend himself, Jean Valjean is certain, and even so he himself isn't hard, the pressure of Javert's tight in his groin feels exquisite.
There is pleasure radiating through him, when Javert moans helplessly into his mouth, and he lets his forehead fall against Javert's chest, when the need to breath becomes unbearable.
He feels Javert's hand fist into his hair, anchoring him as much as holding on, and falls into the alluring rhythm of their movements.
His tongue darts out again, his thoughts only on Javert's pleasure and when he takes his nipple into his mouth, Javert cries out, almost bucking him off and comes between them.
Jean Valjean feels his orgasm almost in his own body and whimpers, when he presses his own soft length against Javert's hard tight.
It is times like this, when he yearns to be young and potent and able to love Javert as deeply then as he does now.
It is futile and Javert would call him and old fool with so much tenderness in his eyes, that it would break Jean Valjean's heart.
But while Javert comes slowly back to earth, his own body hurts somewhere deep inside, without his own release.
Javert however, has always been a man of purpose and Jean Valjean isn't even surprised, when Javert rolls him onto his back, as soon as his limbs are coordinated enough to do so.
Jean Valjean looks up at him and opens his mouth to try to articulate his feelings, but Javert's hand is already between his legs and his touch brings tears to Jean Valjean's eyes.
The hand massaging his soft penis is warm and unhurried, and Jean Valjean closes his eyes, when Javert's fingertips trace between his sacs and fondle them tenderly.
His lips against his forehead make him shed those tears and Javert kisses their traces down his face with love, while the palm of his hand sweeps against his gland over and over.
Jean Valjean feels his body relaxing, feels the strain of his muscles as finally, finally his own release is crashing through his body, like a wave on shore.
Javert's name is on his lips and he begs him not to let him go with what little voice he has left, when that exquisite pleasure pain zings through him.
His body is still convulsing and the skin of his penis is tender, when Javert turns him once more on the side he had woken up on.
This time his body curls around him, his arms holding his shivering frame against his warm chest, and Javert maneuvers him further on his front.
The question of what purpose Javert has in mind, wipes clean from Jean Valjean's thoughts, when his sensitive head makes contact with the cool bed linen and a second orgasm drowns him.
There is only a deep satisfaction in his mind, when he wakes a second time that day, Javert's warmth and strength around him, his breath even against his nape.
The exhaustion still in his limps, all he wants to look forward to today, is more time in bed with the love of his life.
Cosette and Marius will find ways to entertain their children, he tells himself, even though he knows it it a selfish thing to do on a family vacation.
All he wants from this peaceful summer day is to stay in bed and listen to the ocean with Javert beside him.
His mind made up, he turns to Javert and kisses his jaw repeatedly. Soft pecks against light stubble.
Javert turns his face into the pillow and yawns, while Jean Valjean turns in his arms and continues to pepper him with kisses.
He is happy and almost giddy, trying not to annoy Javert is not high on his list of priorities today.
The younger man finally grumbles and his hand closes securely against Jean Valjean's throat, tilting his head back and shutting him up with an almost bruising kiss.
Jean Valjean hums happily into his kiss and manoeuvres his arms around Javert's middle, lacing his fingers together in the small of Javert's back.
They will get hungry for food at some point and Javert will surely not be content with spending all day in bed, Jean Valjean reasons with himself.
But then Javert's fingers weave into his har, holding his face in his competent hands to kiss him deeper, and his thoughts disappear on the soft breeze of the ocean.
Jean Valjean resolves not to wish for a better future or a different past and focuses resolutely on the here and now.
By the sea, with his love in his arms, he is for the first time in his life contented with growing old.