Title: Secret Meetings, part two
Summary: Though still innocent, Marius and Cosette are human, and not quite as well behaved as their relatives believe
Rating: Heavy PG-13, light R

Cosette and Marius were intoxicated with their freedom to see each other. Cosette came by every afternoon, and sometimes in the morning, and they would spend the day together, with Marius' grandfather and Cosette's father, and occasionally other visitors. They would all four sit together and chat, planning the wedding, and rejoicing in the presence of all these other people. They were gloriously happy.

Well, that was what Cosette and Marius would tell anyone. But that was not how they really felt. They did not enjoy spending all their time surrounded by other people, and most certainly did not enjoy Grandfather's endless doting on Cosette, which prevented them from having any time alone. If Monsieur Fauchelevent ever left her side, Marius' Grandfather took advantage of the fact that she was unchaperoned to complement her profusely. Marius, who would have appreciated to have taken advantage of this time, was increasingly bothered by that. Marius and Cosette were practically starving for some time alone.

One day in early January, the house was full. Several of the employees helping with the wedding were there, and they were tasting food and discussing music and flowers. The volume in the room was increased, and Cosette thanked chaos for their freedom to talk.

"Do you know what I miss?" she whispered to Marius, sitting beside her on the couch.

"What do you miss?"

"Being able to talk to you," she admitted. "I suppose we should just be thankful for all the good fortune that has rained on our shoulders these past few months, but honestly… I can't say two words to you without feeling like someone is listening. My father is always there, your grandfather is always there… I see you for hours every day and yet I miss you. We used to be able to talk all the time, about anything."

"Oh, Cosette! I'm so glad you mentioned that! I didn't want to say it for I did not want to sound like I was complaining, but it's so true. We-"

And they were interrupted. For the rest of the afternoon, they could not exchange any private conversation.

The next day, now that Cosette knew she and Marius were in agreement, they exchanged many frustrated glances.

"We can't speak freely in front of everyone," she hissed to him as they walked into the dining room to look at something grandfather wanted to show them.

The flirtatious, light-as-air, pure as snow love that they had shared in the previous spring had matured some. Neither was entirely sure what they were feeling, but they knew they were not content to simply brush their fingers together anymore.

Later, when Cosette and her father were leaving, Marius reached to kiss her hand- the most he felt allowed in front of everyone. But when he clasped her hand, he felt something there. Subtly, he curled his fingers around the small, folded paper in Cosette's hand, and discreetly put it in his pocket.

He went upstairs to his bedroom and unfolded the paper, and found a note:

My love,

I had an idea last night, after I went home. If we both want to talk freely, why don't we just do what we did last spring? Now that's you're healthy, we can meet at night again. Come to my apartment at eleven o'clock, and stand under the streetlamp, so I can see you. I'll come out, and then we can be together without all the witnesses.

Yours,

Cosette

Marius' first thought was that this was the perfect solution- they could be free to be together, and would not be watched over!

But then he thought of how wrong it was; they were not the same couple they had been back in the rue plumet, and where would they go? Cosette did not have a garden, there was not one nearby. He would go to her tonight at eleven, and then tell her that they could not continue this. He would only come so that she did not think he forgot about her, or so he would not be rude. But we would leave quickly. He would be honorable, and would not meet her this way.

At nine-thirty, after most of the house was already retired to bed, Marius was having doubts about his brilliantly moral decision. He was in his bedroom, writing his thoughts down, and debating who wrong it would be after all. I am marrying her in a matter of weeks, he reasoned. It's not like we'll break any important rules. Just small ones. We'll just be walking and talking- honestly, that's hardly a crime.

But it's still wrong, he knew. And who knows what could happen now that you're alone. She doesn't know what she's asking.

However, when he was walking under the streetlamp at two minutes to eleven, and he saw her silhouette in the window, he felt warmth spread through his soul, quite the opposite of the icy dark weather outside. His will to give her a quick scolding for having a wrongful idea evaporated. He waved, and she disappeared. The door to the building opened a minute later, Cosette pulling gloves over her hands, a hood over her head, her cape over her shoulders.

"Good evening darling," he said, taking her hands and brushing his lips to hers. "How is my wife tonight?"

"She is content," Cosette said, with a flirtatious smile, going up on her toes to kiss him again. "But would be better if she was actually your wife, not just waiting."

"I completely agree," he said. Then, he slipped off one of her gloves and one of his own, so they could properly hold hands. He slipped their entwined hands into the pocket of his overcoat so their skin would not be bitten by the cold.

They walked through Paris for awhile, Marius conscious of Cosette's proximity, the smell of her perfume, the feel of her hand in his and the presence of the back of her hand against his leg, the heat of which he could feel through several layers of clothing. He and Cosette spent hours walking in a large circle in her neighborhood, where a few people were still out, and talking privately, away from the nosy ears of their families.

Up until that night, Marius had only had a few hours alone with Cosette since the rue plumet, in total. At his grandfather's Christmas party, he had been her only escort, and they'd managed to catch several moments alone. Here and there on several days they'd had time to exchange a few words or maybe even a quick kiss, but no time like they'd spent in their garden.

After one in the morning, they returned to Cosette's doorstep.

"Goodnight," he said, stepping close to her and kissing her rather lingeringly on her lips.

"Goodnight," she said, leaning into him, and continuing the kiss for just a moment, before she turned and went inside.

See, nothing happened! he told himself. And nothing will happen when you go back tonight, he said the next day.

They went through the same routine. Cosette came outside, they went for a walk, their hands clasped together. But this time, they stopped and sat at a bench for a few minutes, their knees pressed together, his arms around her waist, their words hushed and hurried, as if they did not have the rest of their lives to spend together. They returned to that bench every time after that. A few nights later, their talking progressed to kisses.

When they kissed, it felt different than the times they'd kissed before. Previously, all they'd shared were short pecks, nothing more. Neither had any idea what to do with their lips, because they had next to no experience. When their kisses grew longer, softer, and more intimate, both were secretly afraid that they were doing something wrong. Was this the way people were supposed to kiss? Cosette worried Marius would think she was bad at it, he worried she would think him disappointing.

Cosette's heart was racing, and she felt the heat of his hands through the silk of her dress, resting on her hips. His lips moved against her own, and she tilted her head, and moved further towards him, the smell of his skin and the taste of him making her hands shake, and she felt something she was not familiar with: desire. It was a feeling red and hot and new, the novelty of it almost as thrilling as the feeling itself.

It suddenly struck her that Marius was a man, and she was a woman. she almost laughed- how stupid it was to suddenly realize your fiancé was a man! But it was true. She had never really thought of it before. Marius was Marius. But now he was another entity all together, someone foreign to her, someone intoxicating. She was with her husband, or her almost-husband, and she loved him, and she was kissing the man she loved in the middle of the night on a bench in Paris and she never wanted to stop.

His hands drifted, stroking her hair, her neck, her cheeks, her waist, before engulfing her and pulling her closer, at precisely the moment when she moved in, hooking her hands through his thick, dark locks.

When she was pressed against his chest, not a breath between them, he broke their kiss, and looked into her eyes. His gaze contained what it usually did; the love and adoration upon seeing her that made her feel beautiful, safe, cared for, and home. When he looked at her, she knew she was in love with the right person, and had no doubts about her future with him. But there was something else there, too. His eyes had a hungry look to them, matching how she was feeling at the time, and it made her heart race.

"Cosette, if I could marry you right this moment, I would," he declared. "If the next month until the wedding does not go quickly, I think I'll go mad."

She blushed, knowing what he was referring to- the same desire that had suddenly plagued them both. She said nothing in response; the color on her cheeks was answer enough.

They sat on the bench for a long time, before Marius took her hand. "Come. I'll take you home."

They met like that every night for two weeks. Cosette's father did not suspect, except for inquiring why she was so tired lately. She declared it to be stress about the wedding. In truth, there was a lot to be done, but grandfather and the people he hired for the preparations were handling most of it. But Valjean nevertheless believed her, as he always did.

She thought he would notice her lips being red, bruised from kissing, or note her dreamier demeanor, her mind almost constantly on other things. She thought he would notice how her eyes would darken at the sight of Marius, and how her cheeks would too, and how she was much shorter of breath around him than she once was.

Marius was returning home to the Marais later and later, and he and Cosette spent more and more time saying goodbye outside her building, and even more time sitting on their bench.

"I don't want to go inside yet," she said against Marius' lips, leaning back on the wall beside the door to the building, Marius pressed against her.

"Don't," he begged. "Stay here with me."

He pressed her jealously to him, and all was quiet for a few minutes, the only sound being their lips moving against each other, and the rustle of the silk of her skirts as they swished.

"I really should go inside," she said, but made no move to leave. Finally, Marius stepped away from her.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said. "I'll tell my grandfather you're coming after lunch, so you can sleep late."

"Thank you," she said. He reached for her hand and kissed her fingers.

"Three weeks," he said, bringing the back of her hand to his cheek. She closed her eyes in bliss.

"Then I'm finally yours," she said. "And you're mine."

"It's actually less than three weeks," he mused. "It's after three in the morning; so just twenty days."

She smiled at him. "Goodnight. Sleep well, my love."

"See you tomorrow."

When Cosette got into her bed, she was exhausted, but had so many thoughts in her head that she could not sleep just yet. She used to think that, in coming to see Marius every day, having him kiss her hand and keep their fingers entwined, she had truly known love and everything that came with it. She'd been wrong. That was love, it was true, but she knew more now.

It seemed like when she looked at him, everything in her begged for his touch, and she longed to be in his arms. She was no longer content to just look at him, and exchange a sweet smile. She wanted their life to happen now. Spending their nights together, private, intimate conversations, sleeping entwined, she wanted to know everything about him and wanted him to know all of her. She craved him in a way she had never imagined before.

She was almost embarrassed about it, but in the dark, with no one around but him, she could not bring herself to feel ashamed. It was not possible that his touch was wrong, not when she wanted it so, not when it was Marius, who did everything right. She doubted he had every broken a rule in his life, he was an angel. And he took such good care of her that he would never let her break a rule. So nothing they could be doing together would be wrong; he would not allow it. Moreover, she was almost his wife. As soon as she was Madame Pontmercy, no one would care what she and Marius did together, and it would not be their business anyway.

Cosette did not feel the freezing air of the February night. It was the first night of the month that they would marry, and therefore the last stretch they had to go through. Though snow and ice were all around them, neither felt the chill. On their bench in the abandoned park a few blocks from her apartment, Marius pulled the ribbons and combs from her hair, until it tumbled around her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. Despite their passionate meetings, that was the furthest he'd gone in terms of undressing her. His lips were against her jaw and her ear, and they whispered things to her as the two lay back.

His overcoat was unbuttoned, and it covered both of them like a blanket as they lay back on the bench. Cosette was only somewhat aware then of what would happen if someone saw them; she would be in so much trouble. But she could not imagine being discovered. They seemed so completely, utterly alone. And in the end, they were as near husband and wife as two people could be without actually being married.

Though his weight was not on her, their bodies were pressed together all the way to their legs, and she could feel him against her, and felt something that she'd never felt before, between them and against her, pressing through her skirts. She turned red, and, noticing her reaction in the moonlight, so did he. He looked away in embarrassment, and tried to move away from her, but she held him to her.

She's not afraid, he thought. She pressed herself back against him in a way that was not entirely modest, succumbing to her feelings.

On the way back to Cosette's apartment, they stopped in a tiny crook of an alleyway.

Through their clothes- always through their clothes- Marius could feel the shapes of her body, her waist and her breasts, pressed against him so close. Cosette had all but lost her modesty with him. She thought of the way the girls in proper society acted. They used their modesty as a hook, enticed men with it, and lied with it. Cosette loved Marius, why should she lie about it? It was not as though anyone but him would ever know about this.

"I... I..." she began, loving the feeling of their bodies together, not knowing what she was feeling. "I... I don't know how to say it."

"I want you," he said, following his own line of thought.

"Yes," she said. "That's it. This is what desire is, isn't it?"

"I believe so, but I've never felt like this before," he said breathlessly. "Not until these nights with you. I couldn't even imagine what this would feel like. Cosette, after these meetings, when I see you sitting three meters away from me in my grandfather's parlor, I just want to take you in my arms, away from everyone else and make love to you-"

"We will share a room when we are married, yes?" she asked. There was barely a breath between their faces, their foreheads touching, Marius' hand laced in Cosette's still loose hair. "I can spend every night, every morning with you then."

"I wish..." he said, uselessly.

"I know."

"I wish there was somewhere we could go," he said. "Isn't there a place? Anywhere? Somewhere private?"

Cosette did not think of the repercussions- anything Marius suggested must be right, must be good, even if it was not something her father would necessarily approve of.

"The rue plumet? There's the garden, but there's also the house..."

He pondered for a minute, but then sighed and moved several paces away from her. "No. I'm sorry I suggested it- that's wrong. We can last two weeks, if we've lasted this long already."

She turned red, but knew he was right. Regretfully, she said goodbye to him in the early hours of February 2nd.

"I'm falling asleep," Cosette protested that afternoon, telling the truth. "And not feeling well. Must we go?"

"There's still so much to do!" grandfather had exclaimed a few minutes earlier. He needed Cosette's father to be there to finish the financial arrangements for the young couple, and then wanted Cosette to stay and sample food for the reception.

"I trust it will taste fine," she said politely, but subtly told Marius and her father she was not feeling way.

"You don't have a fever, do you?" Marius asked, worried that the cold from the evening before had made her sick.

"No, just a headache," she said. Cosette hated to seem ungrateful or unpleasant, so she did not tell grandfather. But she did not want to have to wait and eat all the food, and then go to the bank and sit and wait while her father discussed business.

"I have to do it, dear," her father said. "How bad do you feel?"

"I just want to lie down," she said quietly.

"Let us get going!" Grandfather said, coat already on. Even at ninety-two, he moved faster than the rest of them! "Come! Let's move!"

Valjean bit his lip. Cosette did not look well; she was pale, as she often was when her head ached.

"Monsieur Pontmercy," he began, "Will you escort Cosette home? You'll need to meet us at the bank, but your grandfather and I have business to clear up before your signatures are needed."

"Of course," he said, and draped Cosette's cape over her shoulders.

"Are we leaving?" Grandfather asked rudely.

Cosette smiled gratefully at her father.

"Excuse me, Monsieur Gillenormond. My daughter is ill-disposed, and won't be able to sample the food today."

"I trust your judgment," she said to him. She knew grandfather had a taste for sweets and good food enough to supply for the whole party.

Valjean bid goodbye to his daughter and Monsieur Pontmercy. He had found that he'd begun to trust the young man, trust him absolutely with Cosette. He actually was able to smile very fondly at the young man, who was brushing Cosette's cheek with his thumb affectionately.

As the fiacre approached Cosette's house, Marius felt guilt bubbling inside him. they'd been deceiving her father this whole time.

He got out, and told the driver to wait, and then helped Cosette out.

"Do you need anything?" he asked as they approached her door.

"No," she said. "I'll just take a nap. Toussaint will take good care of me."

"Alright then. Feel better, darling," he said.

"I promise," she said as he brushed his lips to the top of her head. "Shall I see you tonight?"

"Y- no," he said. "Cosette, your father trusts me with you. We've been deceiving him. I won't say we were really doing anything wrong- whatever happens, we're marrying in two weeks anyway- but he believes we are not meeting, and believes you to be in your bed every night and not with me, at some God-forsaken park acting like sinners."

She flinched at the harshness of his words. He saw this, and put a hand on her elbow gently.

"I adore you. But I don't want to be someone your father can't trust with you. And after yesterday, I don't know that I even trust myself with you."

"I understand," she said, nodding. "Well. The countdown begins, then, doesn't it?"

"It does," he said, looking drawn. She laughed.

"We're acting like we've been separated for life, not like we get to see each other every day for the two weeks leading up to our wedding."

"You're right," he said, smiling. "We should be more grateful. We weren't very grateful, were we?"

"Not at all," she said. "Still. I'm not exactly sorry. We did not break any important rules," she said, thinking of the one major rule they left unbroken.

"I don't know if your father would say the same," he said, but his eyes were humorous. "I should go to the bank. But I hope you feel better fast," he bid, kissing her quickly, chastely.

"See you tomorrow, then."

When she was upstairs, Cosette thought that she was not at all sorry. Despite the fact that it was wrong, she knew that she'd do it over again. She'd been able to get a taste for what they would be like as lovers, before their wedding night, and digest it, get used to that part of their relationship.

Fear was virtually impossible to her now. She fell asleep, and dreamt that Marius was holding her, kissing her, touching her, and woke up anxious for February 16 in a way she never would have been if they had not been meeting.

PLEASE review this! Like, honestly... if you read this, let me know what you think! I know it's sexual, and different from my other chapters... but really!