“So you’re lesbians? How do you have sex?”
Eponine gave the fuckboy at the bar such a toxic glare that Cosette could see his face go white, even through the dim lights. “None of your fucking business. Go to hell before I send you there myself.”
“I was just–”
“I said, fuck off.”
Eponine clenched her fist on top of the bar, showing off her collection of spiked rings and knuckle tattoos. Her face was murderous. The fuckboy took one last look, then turned and slunk off without a word, tail between his legs, too intimidated to stay and try to make amends. Cosette looked at Eponine in awe and appreciation.
“I never get tired of watching you scare away creepers.”
“Funny, I never get tired of you watching me.” Eponine squeezed Cosette’s hand sweetly, belying the terrifying power within her, and pecked her lightly on the cheek. “Now. How about another drink? I think we deserve it.”
—
It had been a fun night out, fuckboy aside (and that hadn’t even come as much of a surprise; Cosette and Eponine run into them everywhere they go), but Cosette’s still pensive tonight as she lies beside her gently-snoring girlfriend. Eponine had been so upset earlier. Sure, she’d contained it well, but Cosette could tell that she’d have punched that boy if he hadn’t run off when he did. Usually she doesn’t get that angry when boys hit on them, so there must have been something different about the situation. What could it be? Cosette loves Eponine so much; she wants to make sure she’s okay now, and not still angsting over something that was in no way her fault.
Carefully, she turns the events of the night over in her mind. They’d been having fun, drinking happily at the bar with their friends and watching Enjolras turn a hilarious shade of red as Courfeyrac kept feeding him margaritas (Cosette might not experience Asian glow, but she can’t doubt its existence, judging from her brother’s every reaction to alcohol), and then that damned boy had come up. He hadn’t even said anything strange, just teased them about sex, and– oh. Cosette feels her chest get cold. That’s it.
“Eponine,” she says. “Eponine, c’mon.” She nudges her girlfriend’s shoulder lightly, then harder, as Eponine refuses to stir. “Eponine, sweetheart, wake up!”
“Fuck off,” mumbles Eponine, but finally does sit up and look at Cosette with sleep-bleared eyes. “The fuck’s your problem?” she wants to know. “I was dreaming about punching Montparnasse in the face.”
“Sorry.” Cosette leans up against Eponine, rubbing her back and kissing her shoulder until she starts looking less grumpy, and finally turns for a proper kiss of her own.
“What’s up, then?”
“I, um.” Cosette had been so determined to have it out with Eponine right now, but now that she has the chance, she can feel her throat closing up. “Well. Um, Eponine…”
Eponine must notice that something’s wrong, because she leans in even closer and starts to pet Cosette’s hair in that way she does. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, little bird. What’s wrong?”
Cosette closes her eyes tight. She has to do this, has to make things better. She can’t hold Eponine down like this, not when she loves her so much. She’d do anything for Eponine, hasn’t she always said that? So this shouldn’t be a problem, even if it makes her feel sick to her stomach. It shouldn’t even be an issue. She’ll just close her eyes and do it for love.
“Eponine,” she says. “Do you wanna have sex?”
“What?” Eponine’s voice is sharp with surprise. She shifts on the bed to take Cosette into her arms. “Darling, you’re sex-repulsed. Why the hell would you want that?”
I don’t, Cosette wants to say. But that’s the easy way out. Eponine will understand, and they’ll just take things the way they have been, and Eponine will remain unfulfilled and unhappy. Eponine, unhappy— that’s the stuff of Cosette’s nightmares. So she allows herself one shudder, and turns her head for a kiss.
“Because you’re sexy.”
Eponine ducks away from Cosette’s lips and drops her hand, as if afraid to touch her. Ordinarily, Cosette would be hurt by that, but right now, she can’t help but feel relieved. Every minute that they’re not having sex is a good one for her. Selfishly, she doesn’t pursue another kiss, and instead drops her head against Eponine’s shoulder.
“Seriously. You, uh… you turn me on. Let’s do it.”
“No.” Now Eponine’s voice is fierce. “Cosette, I’m not going to have sex with you. I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but it’s not happening. I’m not taking advantage of you. Who the fuck do you think I am?”
When she puts it that way, it does sound bad. But Cosette’s on a mission, and she knows what she wants (or at least, what she could want).
“I do want it,” she says.
“You don’t. Why would you? What’s going on?”
What is Cosette even supposed to say to that? Damn it, this isn’t supposed to be difficult. Sex is meant to be nothing more than a biological mechanism for reproduction; why is it so hard to talk about? She takes a second to gather her thoughts, then swallows.
“Okay. So, I noticed you were pretty upset tonight at the bar after that guy asked us about sex. And I know you’re not ace, and I am, and it’s gotta be hard for you, and I love you and I want to make you happy, so if you want, we can, we can…” Cosette has to swallow a lump of bitterness that rises unbidden in her throat before she can go on. “Eponine, if you want to, let’s have sex.”
Eponine stops breathing. Cosette can feel it. Very slowly, she brings her hand up to pet Cosette’s hair once again. “I think you have the wrong idea,” she says. “I don’t want to have sex with you, Cosette. I never did.”
“But…”
“Yes, you’re beautiful, and yes, I can’t help but be attracted to you. But I would never want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I love you so much, little bird. Why would I need sex? Just being with you is more than enough.”
Something in Cosette’s chest gets a little warmer. She’s beginning to thaw out again. But still…
“Why were you so upset, then? You’re usually not that pissed when guys talk to us.”
“I was worried about you. I know you can handle yourself, but I didn’t know whether you would be upset to talk about sex when you weren’t expecting it. That asshole could have made you uncomfortable, and that’s not okay.”
“So… you weren’t mad because we don’t have sex?”
“God, no. Oh, Cosette, is that what you were thinking?”
Cosette ducks her head to rub her nose against the fabric of Eponine’s flannel. Originally, it was one of hers, but now it smells like Eponine’s cinnamon-apple body wash, and it’s comforting. “I didn’t think so,” she says. “But then that happened, and you were so upset, and I started doubting myself and I couldn’t stop thinking…”
“You poor thing.” Eponine shifts and pulls her onto her lap. She might be the smaller one in the relationship, but right now, her arms are Cosette’s castle, strong enough to keep the negative thoughts at bay. “Cosette, I mean it. You’re so precious to me, and our relationship is perfect as it is, no sex needed. I would never be upset about that. I mean, we have our own type of intimacy, we have love, we have friendship within out love, we have a drawer full of vibrators we can use whenever we start feeling that type of way— what else could we possibly need?”
Cosette can’t help but laugh at this last part, although it’s a little weak and sniffly. There are tears in her eyes that she can’t blink away. “You mean it?”
“I promise.”
“I love you.” The tears are flowing now, but Cosette couldn’t care less. She presses a watery kiss to Eponine’s lips. “God, Eponine, I love you. I love you so much.”
“And I love you, angel.”
Cosette kisses her again, and they lose themselves in the sweetness for what could be minutes or hours, just drinking in each other’s company, unhurried, unpressed, and gentle. There’s no expectation of anything else, just kissing and soft endearments for their own sake, and Cosette doesn’t think she’s ever known a peace so perfect.
“Sorry I got insecure,” she says after awhile, though, because she feels like she should address it, if just to clear her own head. “You know I’m proud of who I am, and I wouldn’t want to be any other way, but sometimes, I worry.”
“And that’s valid.” Eponine smiles teasingly, drawing on Cosette’s propensity to bless any and all things with validation, and boops her on the nose. “But you know, I’m always here, and I’ll always reassure you, because this is true— I wouldn’t want you to be any other way, either.”
How did Cosette ever get so lucky? She has no idea. Eponine is truly one of the best things that’s ever happened to her. She wraps her arms around her and tucks her head against the crook of her neck, just breathing her in, basking in the warmth and comfort that her presence provides. Tonight might have started off badly, but it’s perfect now.
“I love you so much,” she says. “I hope you never get tired of hearing that.”
“Don’t worry.” Eponine touches a kiss to her forehead, blessing, promise, and adoration all at once. It feels like everything good in this world. “I never will.”
