When Cosette was a child, she would secretly listen to the stories that Madame Thénardier would tell Éponine and Azelma. Madame Thénardier preferred stories where girls were rescued by handsome strangers, and would tell those, ignoring her pretty daughters pleas for stories about battles and war heroes. Cosette would creep outside the bedroom door, pressing her ear against the wood for as long as she dared. Sometimes she'd get caught and often received a beating for her crimes.
But at night she'd nurse her bruises and fall asleep, dreaming of princes and fairies and magic.
She'd never thought that a prince would fall for her. And she was right.
When they met again, many years later, Éponine was no longer pretty. Although she, like Cosette, had not quite reached twenty, she had the appearance of someone twice her age. But every time she grinned, showing her yellowed and incomplete set of teeth, her face would glow and happiness would provide the illusion of beauty.
If anyone were to ever see them together— although no one ever did— they would no doubt be struck by the obvious physical differences between the pair. But when they met, cloaked by the night, their goals couldn't be more similar.
Éponine snuck into the house shortly after Jean Valjean had retired to bed. Creeping through windows was not a new or difficult task. Her bare feet padded softly on the floor as she pushed Cosette's bedroom door open.
"You're late," the moon silhouetted Cosette's form from where she sat on the bed. Éponine pounced onto the bed and toyed with the other girl's lace sleeve.
Éponine shrugged off the playful accusation. "I got here as fast as I could, I'd never want you to wait longer than you must, you know."
Cosette smiled and placed her soft hands on top of the gamine's fidgeting fingers. "I'm just pleased to see you. It's been a while."
"Five nights, eh?" Éponine grinned wolfishly. "Been a bit lonely with just your fingers for company, m'dear?"
Cosette's eyes widened in the dark and Éponine chuckled.
"Only joking, I swear," she corrected herself. "'Sides, I'll make up for it tonight."
"No," Cosette reprimanded, running her fingers lightly across Éponine's grimy jawline. "You did everything last time. It's my turn to make you happy."
Éponine raised an eyebrow, letting her hands sneak under Cosette's nightgown and rubbed roughly at the heat between her legs.
"Are you sure about that?" She asked roughly, slipping a finger inside the other girl. She bared her teeth as Cosette let out a brief whimper.
To Éponine's surprised delight, Cosette pushed her off and onto the bed. Pulling her nightgown over her head, she straddled Éponine with her naked form.
"I only object 'cause I'm still wearing clothes," Éponine told Cosette's breasts.
"Take them off," Cosette breathed with flushed cheeks.
Éponine shrugged off her sparse coverings, letting them drop to the floor. When she was naked, Cosette lay on top of her, kissing her hard on the lips. Éponine groaned and began to rub herself on Cosette's sweet thigh. Cosette slipped her tongue into Éponine's mouth and pulled the girl's hand to her breasts. Éponine rolled her thumb across Cosette's nipples, giving them both a firm squeeze. Unable to contain her lust, Cosette gasped and both girls froze.
"Shh," Éponine whispered in the dark. They waited in silence, Éponine poised to roll from under Cosette and hide beneath the bed. But there was no knock at the door, no indication that Cosette's father knew about the welcome intruder.
"It's fine," Cosette resumed her attack on Éponine's mouth.
After a moment, she began to slide to the end of bed, stroking Éponine's sex with her fingertips. She met the street girl's eyes and Éponine nodded. Without a word, Cosette plunged her tongue between Éponine's thighs.
Éponine hissed as Cosette's tongue flicked at her cunny. Cosette smiled when Éponine's hands tugged at her unbound hair.
"Oh, you little bird," Éponine whispered as Cosette fucked her with her tongue. "Oh, it's you who makes me fly."
Cosette withdrew her tongue and kissed Éponine's groin. "Then shall we see if I can make you sing like a bird, too?"
She began to kiss Éponine, her lips warm and slick from spending time between her legs. She reached down and let her fingers continue the work; first one, then two, letting them slide in and out of Éponine's entrance.
Éponine could feel pleasure creep up from her cunt and to her belly. She sucked at Cosette's collarbone, and the dark haired girl giggled with delight.
"I have decided," Éponine panted out, "that you should move your pretty fingers faster."
Cosette complied eagerly, pushing her fingers faster, sweat beading her brow. Éponine could feel her desire pool and she clenched her teeth. She pressed her lips against Cosette's with renewed force, moaning as loud as she dared. Just when she was going to suggest a third finger, the build up swept her up and pulled her under. She bit Cosette hard on the shoulder as her body shook with pleasure.
The girl withdrew and clambered off Éponine, thrilled by her lover's gratification. Eponine drew Cosette into her arms with a small sob.
"Oh my lark, oh my sweet little bird."
The two girls clung to each other, naked and happy, with only the walls to hide their secrets.