A/N Hi, welcome to my series of drabbles. It's my first attempt to writing fanfiction in three years so bare with me. I just got some ideas and decided to start writing again. English isn't my mother tongue, so if you find any spelling errors please let me know (be friendly ;))
I feel like writing different pairings so you might see the same people in different couples. The drabbles will be modern-au, set in different periods of the lives of Les Amis. I hope you like it.

We're starting this first one with some Courf/Jehan

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Les Mis.

Jehan sighed. This morning, sipping at a cup of tea in the Musain, he'd been so full of inspiration and now... nothing. He was sitting in the living room of the house he shared with his friends, Les Amis. Slowly he flipped trough the pages of his notebook reading his drabbles, trying to find something useful. He needed to write a poem for the final grade of his poetry class. It was due in two days and he hadn't written anything useful yet.
He read the drabbles he wrote this morning when he saw it. A little message in a handwriting that wasn't his.

Hey little poet,

I know you don't like me snooping around your notebook, but you were so busy writing in it this whole time I couldn't help but looking what kept you so busy.

Nice work!
x Courf

Jehan smiled, sliding over the letters with his fingers. Courfeyrac was his best friend, the center of Les Amis, the biggest flirt he knew and the guy he had a crush on ever since the day they met at the first day of college. He wondered for a brief moment when Courfeyrac could've written this, but then he remembered: He'd just written down the sentence that was going trough his mind ever since he got up, when he decided he wanted some more tea. He'd walked to the counter and after ordering he made some small talk with Eponine about her new boyfriend Montparnasse. They just talked for a couple of minutes, but that would've been enough for Courf to read some of his work and write the message.

He sighed again. Listening to the radio that played on the background he cached up on the song that was playing. He shut his notebook and turned up the volume.

I say a prayer with every heart beat
I fall in love whenever we meet
I'm asking you what you know about these things
How will I know if he's thinking of me

He sang along, dancing trough the room with his notebook in his hands. He knew who he was thinking of, his mind now far away from the poem he'd tried to write just a couple of minutes before.

If he loves me, if he loves me not
If he loves me, if he loves me not

How will I know (Don't trust your feelings)
How will I know
How will I know (Love can be deceiving)
How will I know
How will I know if he really loves me

The song ended, fading in to something Jehan didn't know. He was about to walk over to turn the volume back down when he suddenly heard a voice behind him. "Asking helps. I could know." Jehan turned around facing Courfeyrac who was leaning against the doorpost. "I... eh..." the poet stuttered as Courf got away from the door walking towards him. "So..." He was really close now. "Do you love me, or do you love me not?" After Courferacs question Jehan took a final step and closed the space between them, kissing the boy in front of him softly. He definitely loved him.

A/N: Yep, the song was How will I know from Whitney Houston.