tushanshu | 006 ; [ video, open to action ]

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006 ; [ video, open to action ]

[So, it's April. Eponine has sobered up somewhat, gotten her wits about her, and realized she needed to actually go see Marius Pontmercy. And explain. And apologize for being a fool and asking him to kill her, for begging him to love her. It took what courage the girl had left for her to walk over to his suite, and when she knocked, the door swung inward revealing what she feared most. What he said he would not do.

An empty apartment.

You know how Eponine spent most of March on a bender?

She's... about to start it again.

When she finally appears in front of the camera this time, she has dark circles under her eyes, her skin sallow. She's nearly as skinny as she was when she first arrived, and there's a bottle of whiskey in her fist.

She speaks simply, without light in her eyes.]

Marius Pontmercy has gone home.

He has returned home where none of us shall be living, to perhaps June 7th, 1832. He will return to his beloved Cosette Fauchelevent. They shall be married.

[She takes a pull from the bottle.]

And he shall forget all about us.

About me.

[She closes the network connection.]

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[She tries to wrestle the bottle from him, but in the end, let's it go in favor of another bottle.]

I do not care! I do not care if you're fucked in the head! Will you not comfort me for one night? Tomorrow we will continue as if nothing happened. It's how it always is. I do not want a relationship. I want to feel anything but nothing and pain!

Jesus fucking Christ. [He mutters.

Costigan lifts his free hand to her neck, tilting her head up. Then he closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to hers, kissing her with all the built up passion of months alone. He leans into her from the awkward position, hungry for the affection she's practically begging him for and pressing out every voice in his mind that says what a bad idea this is.]

[For a moment, she worries that he will not, that he'll kick her out of his apartment right then and there. But he doesn't. Instead, he kisses her, and it feels... So unlike anything else. She kisses him back, setting down her bottle, reaching to his neck to pull him closer to her. So what if she's eighteen? For a girl in France, that makes her more than fully grown. And she kisses like it, too.]

[Costigan breaks their contact only long enough to set the opened bottle aside, on the table, before he returns his attention completely to her. Both hands then slip along either side of her neck, tilting her head to complement his perfectly. Her experience is clear, reinforcing the comments she's made before about selling herself and being with older men. That alone makes him reconsider for a brief second before her fingers on the back of his neck cast all such reservations aside.

He moves to sit on the couch beside her, one hand dropping to her waist to pull her closer and encourage her to continue. She wants to forget. So does he. Maybe this can be good for the both of them.]

[Eponine reacts automatically, pressing herself against him, even as their posture becomes awkward, arching and twisting. It's easy to kiss him, whiskey on both of their lips as she runs a hand through his hair, pulling him closer towards her.

Eponine has always been the sort of girl who knows that tomorrow is not promised. And tonight, tomorrow is the last thing she's thinking of.]

[A low moan escapes Costigan's lips as her fingers run through her hair. His eyes drift closed to absorb the comfort of this moment, of her touch. He's so tired of being alone. He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily against her neck as he takes a moment to catch his breath.

The hand on her waist slides around to the small of her back as he then leans forward, encouraging her to stretch out beneath him. His lips find hers again, lusting for her, not wanting to be aware from her for a minute. His hand along her jaw drops away from her to prop against the couch and facilitate their shift.

Again, he withdraws for a few seconds, whispering against her ear.] You're sure?

[Eponine grins into the hungry kisses, resting her head against his forehead when he takes a quick pause.

It's easy to shift under him, being as small as she is, and he helps her far more than others would have. As he pulls away, she leans up, trying to capture his lips again.

You're sure? The words send a strange surge through her. Of course she was sure. Why was he asking? Was it not implied with the way she kissed him? How she had asked? But if he wanted an answer, he would get it.]

Oui, m'sieur Costigan. I am sure.

[Costigan gave a nod. He shifted to rest a knee on either side of her on the small couch, withdrawing his hands as he sat up. Immediately he began tugging at his shirt, sliding it over his chest and head and then discarding it to the floor. The action revealed both the medallion he wore and his tattoos.

Then he was on top of her again, grinding against her, reveling the beauty she seemed so adamantly in denial of. One hand fell to her waist while the opposite arm curled around the back of her head, the elbow serving to help stabilize him while his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck to pull her into him.]

[She sat up just slightly when he pulled away, but before she could even formulate a thought as to why, his shirt was off, and Eponine was smiling through hazy eyes.

She kissed him, pressing her hips against his, one hand tracing the vague outline of the tattoo on his arm, then the clover above his heart. His skin was warm, his touch soft, despite the eagerness to it. Groaning into his lips, she parted hers, running her tongue along his bottom lip, her skirts tangling below him.]

[He moaned again at the feel of her fingers on his chest, the delicate touch something he had almost forgotten. His pants grew tighter as his tongue met hers, running along the edge and exploring the entrance to her mouth. Then it pushed forward, deeper, some small level of desperation apparent in the eagerness of it all. He never pushed, never forced, but it was obvious how much he wanted it.

His hand slid from her waist along her form to begin tugging at her skirt, pulling the layers up between and beside them until his fingertips felt the skin of her leg. They followed the path up to where her legs met, dipping beneath her garments to tease the skin there.]

[However bold he was, she responded in kind, sucking at his lips, his tongue, never wanting to let go of him, only wanting to be closer. Only for tonight, if that's what it was. But it was worth it.

Her breath hitched as his hands began to wander up her legs, her eyes sliding shut. Then, there was a moan when she felt his hand up against her, her own arousal already evident.]

[Costigan broke their lips as his hand moved fully against her, fingers sliding into her. He watched her closely as his fingers worked, slowly, then faster. He wanted to see her pleasure, wanted to know that he was the cause of it. He leaned down to kiss at her neck, sucking gently at the skin there as he continued, then he straightened just enough to watch her again, fingers working more quickly and eagerly.]

[Her breathing grew heavier as his fingers entered her, as she arched her hips against his ministrations. Eyes still shut, she moaned softly, biting down on her lip. He was good, experienced- far better than anyone she'd been with, come to think of it. It was always all about them. Never about her.

Her own hand snaked down towards his pants, feeling the bulge under the fabric and wasting no time in undoing his belt, even as she moaned below him.]

[Costigan pressed against her hand to encourage her as his own continued to work. He dropped his head down, peppering kisses along her jaw and her neck to her clavicle. He resumed his tender sucking of the soft skin there, keeping the pressure light to avoid leaving any marks.

Then he shifted down slightly, moving his lips to the skin of her chest as he groaned with pleasure, lifting his hips just enough away from her to give her hands all the access they needed.]

[She made fast work of his belt, unbuckling it before pushing it out of the way. With one hand, she started at the buttons, as the other continued to rub at him.

Shifting, she turned her head to allow him better access to her neck, to her chest. Kicking off her shoes, she grinded against his hand. No sooner had she done so, but she slid her own hand down the fabric of his pants, below his underthings to grasp at his hardened cock.]

[He groaned again at the feel of her fingers on him, of his inside of her, beating rapidly against her with his heightened excitement. His mouth lifted from her chest back to her lips, taking advantage of a new moan to slide his tongue along hers as before.

This was wrong. Some part of him knew it, in the back of his mind. This selfish and indulging sex solely for pleasure, for both of them to forget and lose themselves in each other. But it was hard to care with her beneath him, with her hand taking hold of him, with his mouth on hers. The scotch from her lips only made him more aroused, more desperate for her.]

We should- [Another kiss.] -go to the- [Another moan.] -bedroom.

[None of this was wrong to her. It was natural. It was what you did. If you were fond enough of someone, did you not sleep with them? It was a currency. I like you this much, so here I am. Her father had sold her virginity when she was twelve. Six years later, she still could fetch a decent price.

So, no. This wasn't wrong. This was something she'd wanted, and she was taking it.

She worked his cock in her hand, rubbing and stroking with the same rhythm as his fingers. She could feel pressure building at the base of her spine, heat pooling between her legs. This way, when he mentioned the bedroom, she nodded, breaking off the kiss.]

Yes. The bedroom. Anywhere. I am yours tonight.

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006 ; [ video, open to action ]

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action; cw R rating I guess??

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