(A/N: I've been on a writing spree recently, so sue me :/ This came of a conversation I had with my friend Lulu, and even if you don't know Les Mis...it's quite suggestive. XD)
Feuilly grinned, pulling Joly closer to him. The redhead looked inquisitively at him, green eyes very obviously confused, and he tried to say something that didn't quite sound like an actual word. He sort of stuttered, which Feuilly found amusing.
"Come here, cheri." he laughed, pulling him even closer. He lifted Joly's chin, completely overwhelming the hypochondriac's mouth with his own, and those green eyes widened when he felt a warm tongue slide into his mouth. He responded in kind, slowly following the motions, matching everything Feuilly did to avoid being outdone. This was certainly strange, he knew Feuilly was more experienced at this than he was, and he felt suddenly inadequate.
The orphan pulled away slowly, then gave him a simple smile. Again, Joly stuttered, speechless.
"How do you do that so well...?" Joly asked, pouting. "...you're amazing."
"Practice." Feuilly replied, shrugging. "I don't think it's that hard to do, really. It's really not hard to be good, but then again I'm used to it."
"You know Enjolras doesn't want you doing that anymore, right?" Joly asked, playing with the ratty, gray collar of Feuilly's jacket. "He doesn't think it's right for what we're doing...the insurrection, fighting for France..."
Again, Feuilly shrugged. "He can think what he wants. I'm not changing who I am because of him. It won't affect the revolution any, it's just...different. Name one other person in the Musain who's better than me at this."
"...I don't know, I wasn't aware anyone else could."
"Jehan can. He's astounding actually, I taught him most of what he knows. He learned the rest from some random man on the street."
"...a stranger?! Isn't that a bit dangerous, considering how pretty Jehan is? He looks female." Joly asked, concerned. Feuilly ruffled his hair, letting out a subconscious giggle.
"Jehan's more than capable of taking care of himself. Besides, it's not really frowned upon or anything around here."
Joly licked his lips, then stared up at the raven-haired boy. "...can you...do that again? That thing with the tongue...?"
With a nod and without another word, Feuilly repeated his previous actions. This time he slowed down the motions of his tongue to ensure that Joly experienced it better. The two boys' mouths remained locked together for some time, a minute at the least, and Feuilly pulled away once more.
"You're better at this than you think you are, Joly." He mused, tickling the other boy's chin and eliciting a giggle.
"But you're so much better! You're more adept with your tongue, Feuilly, I could never do that." Joly whined, folding his arms.
"Well, in order to be this experienced, you have to be practiced with your tongue. Otherwise it's...really awkward. There are certain ways to move your tongue that make it a lot better, like what I just did." Feuilly replied. "....do you want me to do it again?"
Joly shrugged. "It couldn't hurt."
For the third time Joly found himself with Feuilly's tongue in his mouth, but this time it didn't last long. The sound of a door slamming startled them, and they turned to see a tall, handsome blonde man staring at the door with a look of absolute shock and awe. Though his exterior was gorgeous, with his cerulean eyes, pale skin, smooth and perfect complexion, his attitude was not as glorious.
"Feuilly?! Joly?! What the hell are you two doing, you perverts?! Are you trying to turn this cafe into some kind of brothel? I am absolutely appalled at what you two consider to be more important than our cause! God, you two! And Feuilly, you are a lieutenant, you know better than-"
Feuilly laughed. "Enjolras, please. Don’t get your extremely loud, shiny vest in a bundle. I'm just trying to teach Joly how to speak Polish."
Enjolras put his hands on his hips. "...oh really?" he drawled, not sounding the least bit convinced.
"Yeah really. Go on, Joly, try it again." Feuilly laughed.
"...masz ladny tyleczek...?" Joly said, hesitantly.
"Nie, masz ladny tyleczek!" Feuilly replied, playfully punching Joly in the shoulder. "Haha, but seriously. You finally got that tongue thing down. Good for you!"
Joly blushed. "Only cause you taught me. Let's see if I don't end up spitting on someone while trying to talk to them in Polish..." He laughed, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
Enjolras rolled his eyes at the two. "Because speaking Polish is more important than liberating France. ...FRANCE. Not Poland, for Christ's sake! Why would you need to learn how to speak Polish?"
"...because it's my native language and I said so?" Feuilly replied, taking off his tattered gray hat and tossing it onto the table. "Besides, Joly showed interest. Cultural diversity. Don't I have the freedom to speak Polish?"
Defeated, Enjolras said nothing. That word, that concept, freedom, always got him. He walked out of the room without another word, shooting an odd glare at the two boys. After a few moments, Joly spoke again.
"Tak, tak! Powaznie! Chodzi mi o to!" Feuilly replied, folding his arms. "...no wiec...chcesz sie kochac?"
Joly grinned broadly. "…ale…jestem przeziebiony…umieriam…!”
“Nie sadze, Joly. Swietnie wygladasz.”
“Przepraszam nie chcialem! Jest ze mna duzo lepiej. Tak, tak chcialbym! Chce byc z toba! Ale …gdzie jedziemy?"
Feuilly looked around, looking thoughtful. His eyes fell on a table in the back room, and he smiled, pointing to it. “…tam. Na stole. Zaras. Caly dzien moze.”
Blushing, Joly put his hands on Feuilly’s shoulders and whispered, “O kochanie… sprawiasz ze sie rumienie. Jestem podekscytowany, Feuilly. Jestem podekscytowany i to jest twoja wina. Bryzdki.”
Once more, Feuilly pulled him close and took over his mouth. This time, it was definitely not to teach him Polish.
(A/N: So. ^^; If you want translations of what is said, I have them. XD But you might not like theeeeeem~)