"I don't need your help! Let go!"
And wasn't that Eponine all over? He grabbed her by the waist and dragged her back behind the mic line to stop the noise. "Stop being so stubborn!" They collided with a mic stand and almost went over. She ripped the batteries out and threw them at his chest.
"Stop being such an oblivious, high-handed asshole!"
"That doesn't even make sense!" He shouted back before he noticed the tears in her eyes. "Eponine?"
Her sniffling and hiccups were the only sound in the room. He took a slow step towards her. "Eponine? What's wrong?"
She squared her shoulders like she was facing a firing squad. "Can we talk?"
"Oh, I love it when a plan comes together!" Courfeyrac gleefully pounded on Combeferre's shoulders as the distraught pair left for the patio. It was better than he'd dreamed. Enjolras even tried to take Eponine's elbow, which was a clear win for Team Eponine. Her shaking him off was irrelevant; she'd confess, he'd confess, and he'd be planning a bachelor party by Christmas. It took Combeferre slapping the back of his head to break through his internal screaming.
"'You love it when a plan comes together.' You're quoting the A-Team?" Combeferre smacked him again.
"Ow! What the hell? That worked perfectly," Courf whined, rubbing the back of his head. "Okay, yeah, I'm more Face than Hannibal. You can be Hannibal, if you want." He dodged Combeferre's hand again.
"You moron," Alain said. "We're going to be scraping Enjolras off the sidewalk."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "No! They'll be fine. This will work. This will totally work."
Grantaire slammed his bottle down on the table. "You're both right," he said. "It'll be ugly, but it will be over." Across from them, he flipped out his mobile phone and started typing furiously. Courf leaned over to see, only to be pushed back by Grantaire's index finger on his forehead. "No. Boundaries. We've talked about this."
Grumpy, Courf sat back with folded arms. "You weren't talking about boundaries when you helped me with Captain Apollo and Xena."
"Boundaries with me," he said. "That was for the public good."
"That's very civic-minded of you." Combeferre mused.
"Alright, it was for my good, too. If Daphne will allow herself to be caught, then let Apollo have her and the rest of us can take our laurels." Grantaire hit the send button with a decisive finality.
Courf bounced in his chair. "Are you texting that hot mail room clerk? He likes the theater and Vietnamese food. He will definitely say yes."
Soft breezes. Fairy lights. Faint jazz from the main room. The patio behind the Corinthe was charming, romantic, and very, very occupied. A pair of teenagers were making out against the brick wall, oblivious to the Enjolras and Eponine's entrance. Eponine turned to leave, planning a quiet retreat to the back hallway. Enjolras, however, must have reached some sort of internal limit on his patience. He shouted at the boys to get their attention and scowled fiercely when they jumped apart. Eponine stared as he ordered them out, snarling about breaking curfew and local drinking ordinances.
The two boys ran back inside. After a few beers, they told their friends about the lunatic who chased them off the patio. They spent 20 minutes debating whether he was an off-duty cop or an avenging angel but they both agreed he was gorgeous.
Outside, Enjolras slammed the door behind them, flipped the 'Private Party' sign on the door, and shoved a chair against it for good measure. He huffed and crossed his arms. Eponine doubled over laughing. She could suddenly see the absurdity of the situation - Enjolras cock-blocking teenagers so she could ruin their friendship in private. He was looking concerned at her hysterics, so she tried to calm down a little. "Their faces," she wheezed in explanation. "They were so terrified. You could have just asked." She stood up, wiping her eyes.
"Maybe it was overkill." He scratched the back of his neck then sighed deeply. "What's going on, Epona? And not just tonight - I haven't seen you in days and we've barely exchanged more than 3 words in the past two weeks." Eponine winced as he continued. "Then we sing that stupid song and it felt - it felt almost normal. It felt-" He trailed off, unable to find the right word. It felt right, she wanted to scream. It felt like home. Sweet, perfect Enjolras wasn't psychic, however, so he still looked confused as he gave up and continued. "Then you're pulling away and crying. I don't understand any of it." He took a step towards her and reached for her hand. She flinched back, because if he touched her she knew she would fall apart. Gabriel's face fell at the movement. "That. That right there."
The pain on his face confirmed her worst fears. Her pathetic attempt at self-preservation hadn't gone unnoticed or unfelt. If there was one thing in the world Gabriel needed, it was his friends. That support was essential to all his causes, his dreams, and maybe his soul. Even small rejections like these could hurt him. What he didn't understand was that it hurt her, too, so she had to suck it up and explain.
Her chest ached and her blood felt like acid, but she could do this. It would be better this way. If she could just get the words out maybe they would stop choking her and she could just move on. Move on better than with Marius and Montparnasse. It would be horrible and awkward for a while, but she certainly wasn't the first idiot to fall for untouchable Gabriel Enjolras. She could do this. "I'm sorry, Enjolras," she began. "I'm so sorry for how I've been-"
He cut her off by lunging forward and grabbing her shoulders. "Don't apologize, just tell me. Please, please tell me." Desperation cracked his voice and her planned speech flew out of her head. He raised a hand and wiped the tear stains on her face. She sucked in a trembling breath at his finger tips gliding over her cheeks and into her hair. His voice was almost gone as he whispered, "You're my best friend and I think I'm losing you."
Enjolras was so close that they were breathing the same air and Eponine imagined she could taste the soft sigh that left his mouth. But it was her imagination, wasn't it? Her imagination was running away with her all over again. "You're not losing me," she said softly. She gently pulled his hand from her hair. "You're not, but I don't think we want the same things."
Gabriel felt the floor drop three inches as Eponine said those words and placed a gentle kiss on the back of his hand. I don't think we want the same things. What could be so different between them? All he wanted was her - her laughter and her incessant teasing. The hugs she gave him for no reason and the sharp punches to his shoulder that were usually for a very good reason, though there had been a few he hadn't deserved. We don't want the same things. He wanted her impatience and her hard-won confidence. He wanted her conversation; she could talk for ages and he would listen, fascinated, until she suddenly turned and asked his opinion on something else entirely.
Eponine dropped his hands and stepped back, leaving him holding empty air. The loss startled him and he realized that he wanted, he needed her hands in his. He needed to touch her hair and feel her fingers thread through his own. He needed the warmth of her breath against his face, her lips against his cheek. He needed to know the taste of her mouth, at least once before he died.
A flash of heat lit up his chest and belly. He was stunned by the thought of kissing her. Before he could fully process that feeling, she turned away. The tension between them spiked as she took some steadying breaths and folded her hand in front of her. He had the sudden premonition her next words would change everything.
"Eponine, please," he said. His throat felt tight. He couldn't breath. "Please, wait."
"I care about you, Gabriel." She smiled even as her eyes teared. "I care about you a lot more than I'm supposed to and it needs to stop."
"What?" Panic must have been making him stupid, because they were speaking the same language and he didn't understand her words at all. It sounded like she was a million miles away and underwater on a horrible cell phone connection. Even through his current tunnel vision he could tell she was crying and smiling at the same time. She had never looked more beautiful. Why he hadn't seen how beautiful and perfect she was until this moment? He had never felt like more of an idiotic child.
"It's been weeks now, since that party at Marius and Cosette's apartment. I've been trying to ignore it but I can't take it anymore." Abruptly, she paused and tilted her head to the side. "Are you feeling okay? You look pale." She placed a hand on his wrist and felt his pulse. "Shit, you're tachycardic and I think you're hyperventilating." She bit her lip and her eyebrows drew together in dismay. "I didn't think it would upset you that much."
She didn't think it would upset him? She was - well, he still didn't understand what exactly she was trying to do but it definitely was bad based on her face and tone. Yes, it was upsetting him a lot, especially with how she was chewing on her bottom lip right now. Eponine wrapped an arm around his waist - he thought he might pass out at that moment - and pulled him to sit next to her on a bench.
"Put your head between your knees," she ordered, pushing him down. "This doesn't have to be weird. I'll be over it soon. I just need some perspective. Some distance." He tried to sit up and explain he might die without her, but she shoved his head down ruthlessly before he could get a word out. "I know this isn't the first time this has happened to you and I doubt it will be the last. We can be adults."
Enjolras moaned. "You don't understand." There was a desperate, clawing tightness in his chest and the words she was saying didn't help at all. The friendship, affection, and longing were overwhelming. Eponine, however, was maddeningly calm in the face of his panic, so he gave up. He gave up entirely and let her rub his back and murmur sweet-sounding platitudes that were complete nonsense. Without her, nothing would ever 'okay' again. Enjolras closed his eyes and lines of Jehan's poetry drifted through his mind. Sly smiles between Musichetta, Joly, and Bossuet. Pontmercy's eyes lighting up as he talked about Cosette. 'What was right seemed wrong, and what was wrong seemed right.'
Eponine's fingers trailed up the nape of his neck and into his hair. He shivered at the sensation. "We'll still be friends," she said. "I will always be there for you. Marius and I are perfectly fine now."
"Oh, God," he whispered. "Eponine." He was in love. He was in love and he was having a heart attack and, by the way, she still wasn't making sense. I care about you a lot more than I'm supposed to.
She helped him sit up, checking his forehead for a temperature. "Don't make me get Joly," she said with a sad little smile. "He'll want to get you an x-ray or something." She tenderly brushed a few of his curls back and then settled her palm along his jaw.
Her hand felt cool and she was so close against his side. Being in her arms felt like home. He reached up to her hand and pressed kiss to the palm. She blinked a few times, confused, but she didn't pull away this time. Enjolras gave into temptation utterly, running a thumb along her lips. They were soft as silk and he felt her shiver in response.
She leaned into his touch. Everything clicked into place. It was ridiculous.
"Eponine, I think we're talking at cross purposes here." His fingers traced up to tangle in her hair and Eponine's eyes fluttered shut. He whispered against her lips, "I'm falling in love with you." He kissed her.
For Eponine, the heat and tension had been building exponentially since he traced her mouth with his finger tips. She was drunk, intoxicated off the potential energy between them. When Gabriel finally pressed his mouth over hers she fell into the kiss without fully realizing it. It was an easy slide over the edge of a waterfall. Eponine fisted her hands into his shirt and pulled him closer. One sweet, gentle kiss blended into another, and another. He opened his mouth to gasp for air with his forehead pressed against hers.
"I didn't know," he whispered. "I had no idea. I didn't know I could feel this." His words tickled her skin, making her smile. What a pair of fools they were. No wonder Courfeyrac had resorted to such ridiculous measures. Enjolras played with her hair while they leaned against each other. He tugged a lock of hair to get her attention. "And you? You feel the same, right?"
The touch of uncertainty in his voice pulled her heart to her throat. She leaned back but his eyes were downcast. "Yes." She lifted his chin so he would met her gaze. "Yes. I do." His grin was blinding. With a laugh, he hauled her into his lap sideways. Her hands were pressed to his chest, feeling his pounding heart. Into her hair he mumbled, "Thank God," over and over.
She inhaled the scent of his skin and kissed his high cheekbones, his jawline. His sigh turned into a whimper when she kissed the angle of his jaw and breathed across his ear. Spurred by his reaction and deeply curious, she ghosted her lips over the curve of his ear to draw out another gasp. His hands spasmed on her waist, pressing her closer. Enjolras was trembling beneath her and it was delicious. Eponine dug her fingernails into his shoulders through the thin, crisp cotton of his dress shirt. She bit his ear lobe lightly. Completely drugged by the soft moan of this bright, beautiful boy, she finally let go and whispered, "I love you."
Maybe that was a step too far, because Gabriel's hands flew into her hair and he tugged back down into a bruising kiss. She opened her mouth and let him steal her breath. There was no finesse, but passion and instinct were enough as his tongue slipped past her lips. He explored her eagerly. Enjolras licked across her teeth, the roof of her mouth. Their tongues met, bringing a fresh wave of desire. She threaded her fingers through his hair - no one had the right to hair that soft and thick. Her nails scratched his scalp as she tugged a fistful of the curls and his answering groan satisfied something primal. She wanted to straddle his lap and press him backwards on the bench. Maybe she could drag him up to the table and pull him on top of her to feel his warm weight.
As enticing as those images were, it was too fast for the both of them. She gently pressed her palm to his chest to get a little distance, and he responded immediately. She was touched by how quickly his grip loosened and his kisses slowed. She suddenly knew she'd never have a lover as sensitive and in tune with her own desires. He pulled back into one last kiss, soft and chaste, before looking up at her with dazed, dilated eyes.
Watching him come down from that high was its own kind of joy. He was clearly in awe, but didn't become shy, like she expected, or smug, like she feared. Instead, the same quiet joy lit his eyes. He kissed her nose.
Eponine slid off his lap. She folded their hand together and pull him up to his feet. "Maybe we should get out of here? Get some coffee and talk?"
He smiled, tugging her towards the door. "I'd like that."
AN: The end! That's all I've got. Thanks for reading this exercise in pure, unadulterated fluff. Concrit is very, very welcome. Cheers!