This chapter is Beiste's point of view. It is the third-longest chapter of the fic, clocking in at 4,105 words. It contains the only graphic dubious consent scene of the fic, and it starts with an AU version of episodes 3x05 "The First Time" (with references to a few season 2 episodes and to Beiste's earlier life – the time prior to her introduction on Glee). The chapter ends sometime prior to 3x10 "Yes/No".

Also, please note, for the sake of my fic, Beiste is not trans. I will consider her someone who feels like she is a girl/woman deep down, because her character has had many quotes to support that in seasons 2 and 3. I fully support trans characters in general, but I had ideas for this fic for a long time, long before season 6 aired, and I'd always planned on including Beiste as a woman in the fic. I will, however, be including the trans character of Unique in a significant way later on, and her being transgender is very relevant to certain scenes, so just know that the fic will have some trans representation, even if none of the four ace characters are transgender. One of the aces may be non-binary though… you'll have to keep reading to see. Anyway… here goes. Enjoy chapter 3.

Chapter 3: Having a Love Life Can Be Overrated

Last year, when Shannon had found out that the boys on her football team had been imagining her in lingerie as a way to "cool off" when making out with their girlfriends, she had been so hurt. She'd been honest when she told Will, a few hours after that, that she wasn't gay. People might think she looked like a stereotypical butch lesbian, and maybe she acted like one too, given her intense love of football and other sports… but the truth was, she had never felt attracted to a woman. Not even once. All the stereotypes could go to heck, as far as she was concerned.

For quite a few of her forty years on the planet, Shannon hadn't really thought much about her status as a single woman, and hadn't tried very hard at dating. Regardless, three years ago when she'd first joined Facebook, without even a second thought she had checked the 'interested in men' box. Ever since she was a little girl, when she'd leave her sister alone with some Barbie dolls and instead find some neighborhood boys to play with, she had loved boys. She'd felt comfortable around them. She had a lot of interests in common with them. However, she didn't want to be one of them. She remembered how much she'd wanted them to respect that she was a normal girl. She'd always desired that they understand how she would never be able to relate to the conversation turning into how much one wanted to see a girl naked, because she wasn't a boy the way they all were. Shannon didn't always get everything she'd wanted. One particularly painful memory that stuck with her was how they'd laughed when she left her house in a dress. She'd been on her way to attend her aunt's wedding. But at least those boys had always been nicer to her than girls ever were.

Growing up, her sister was the only girl who was ever nice to Shannon. Lori was only a year older than her. It was true that Lori had always been overweight, as everyone in the Beiste family seemed genetically inclined to be, but regardless Lori was so much prettier than Shannon – at least, in Shannon's own biased opinion – and somehow Lori always had managed to weigh about fifteen pounds less than Shannon. Lori had Sally, a female best friend, and Shannon was sometimes jealous of the fact that Lori fit in so much more naturally with her fellow girls at school. During Lori's senior year of high school, Lori was asked to the homecoming dance, and that boy with whom she attended the event – Johnny – ended up becoming her boyfriend for the majority of the year.

Shannon had found herself wishing, desperately, that one day, a boy would consider her beautiful in the same way Lori had been considered beautiful by Johnny. But that never happened. Shannon was never asked out. Sometimes, Shannon would be told by her guy friends that they had forgotten she was a girl at all. It never felt like a compliment – especially not when all of the people who weren't her friends so easily remembered her female status, and proceed to bully her every day in a gendered way. They'd call her a cow, a fuckin' dyke, and many other much more creatively cruel phrases, such as the alliterative 'bitch the size of a building'. Shannon would spend every night dreaming of the day when just one person wouldn't act personally offended by how fat she was, or maybe by some miracle wouldn't even find her ugly at all.

Her parents always had comforted her, telling her stories about one day, when she was all grown up, with a husband and children. She'd let herself believe that in her future she would actually get to experience those rites of passage in her life. For as far back as she could remember there was a part of Shannon that longed for a guy who might find her attractive, or at the very least, wouldn't care about looks. A part of Shannon who wanted all of those stories her parents had told her to finally come true.

However, decades passed by, and before she knew it Shannon Beiste was forty years old, and much less attractive than she'd been in her twenties. As she grew older, remaining single year after year, she realized she had been stupid to even dare to keep dreaming of that guy. An unknown but likely quite high number of teenage boys in Ohio had giggled and gossiped over the obvious truth that Coach Beiste was a woman no man would ever fantasize about being with.

"I've never been kissed, Will! It's the simplest thing: a kiss. It's the doorway to everything else: promise, hope, a future with someone! What does that say about me?"

A year had passed since the horrifying incident with her players' non-fantasies, and now the still never-been-kissed Shannon was admitting to a high school boy that she kind of had a crush on a certain a recruiter for Ohio State. She tried to explain that there was no way in a million years he'd be interested in her, and therefore the crush didn't matter, but Artie had asked, so she had decided to tell him the truth. And honestly? Wanting guys to like her had proved to be a difficult habit to break out of.

Shannon could barely admit to herself that a large part of the reason she cried over Blaine and Rachel's performance of "Tonight" every single time they rehearsed was that it made her imagine all of the 'what ifs'. What if Cooter Menkins, when he had said, "You're a hell of a coach, Coach," had purposely made her feel all fluttery inside with that compliment? What if, when he'd mentioned that he had an Applebee's gift certificate last week, what he had actually wanted was to use it to take her out on a real date? What if he would've been just as nervous as she would've been? What if her feelings for him weren't so one-sided? What if, like the lyrics of the showtune, he was dreaming of her too and a miracle really was about to happen?

A couple of days later, on Wednesday, Cooter interrupted her dumbbell workout routine with flowers that weren't for a graveyard and to actually ask her out on 'a real honest-to-God sit down date', where he wanted her to dress up like a lady while he'd dress up like a gentleman. At that moment, her heart shattered, because she was so sure this man she had grown so fond of was just like the countless awful people she'd met in her life. He must have been screwing with her, the way even Will and Sue – people who she knew now had the capability to be surprisingly kind – had screwed with her when Shannon had first been hired. Tears welled in her eyes and her voice cracked a bit as she tried to ask him why he was doing something so cruel. He insisted he was being sincere, and requested an explanation for why she couldn't believe it was a genuine, kind proposal. Cooter then left her with the flowers, pushed himself up off the bench, and insisted that Friday, after the game, they really would go on a date.

Shannon spent all day Thursday, and Friday before the game, stressing over her impending date with Cooter Menkins. Of all of the men to ask her out! He was such a funny and kind guy. He was charming and could have any woman he wanted. Why would he possibly be interested in her?

She'd only ever been on two dates in her life. The first one had been legitimately traumatic. It had been a few days before her high school graduation, and as one last senior prank before most of the kids never saw each other again, a couple of boys had dared this friend of theirs to ask her out. She'd had such high hopes for that first date. She'd put on a dress, borrowed her mother's diamond earrings, and got picked up at her house for dinner and a movie. But then the guy – his name was George – had refused to pay for her dinner, saying she'd "ordered enough food for an army", and giggling a little as he said it. She tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, and hope maybe he wasn't laughing at her. She'd pulled out some cash from her purse, and proceeded to let him drive her to the cinema. However, as soon as they got their seats, George had said he was going to quickly stop in the restroom.

He never returned.

Shannon was so embarrassed. She sat through the whole movie alone, and then called her mother from a payphone in the lobby, lying and saying George's car had broken down and he was going to catch a ride home with a friend. She barely managed to hold back her tears as she sat in the passenger's seat beside her mother, and as soon as she was back in her house, she ran into her bedroom and proceeded to sob into her pillow. She only found out days later – on graduation day, a day that was supposed to be full of only happy memories and celebration – that it hadn't simply been a date abandoning her, but rather a childish dare with multiple other kids involved, a cruel prank played entirely at her expense.

Luckily, the adult world was somewhat nicer to Shannon. Instead of being asked out by guys who weren't interested, for the most part men ignored her. She was asked out by a woman once, who she quickly turned down without much of a thought, feeling an odd combination of flattered to be genuinely wanted by someone, and also offended that she was that 'obviously' a lesbian in even an actual lesbian's eyes. Was this why not a single guy had ever sincerely asked her out? She knew she was quite a specific 'type', but she'd never thought she sent out "women only" type vibes!

Her second date ever ended up being when she'd showed up at an Ohioans Over 30 speed dating event – the guy had ended up being interested in her, genuinely, but only as a wrestling partner, not as a romantic partner, she realized. It wasn't as terrible as it could've been, she supposed, but it was clear they were looking for very different things in a relationship, and she'd been quite disappointed to find that despite having attempted to date two different people in her life, and despite being 33 years old at that point, she still had never experienced a kiss.

It had been eight years now since that fiasco, and she was trying to be as optimistic as possible about what her evening with Cooter would entail. He'd already brought her flowers when he was asking her out, which was the most romantic thing a guy had ever done for her. The evening was bound to be romantic too! Plus, thinking long-term, they at least had a passion for football in common. They'd already successfully had quite a few conversations! Maybe, if she was extraordinarily lucky, Cooter would be the first guy she'd go on a second date with! She tried not to get too ahead of herself, and waited, a bit impatiently, for Friday night to arrive.

It was only on Friday morning that she remembered their planned date on this particular Friday night was going to be a problem.

After the game, Shannon approached Cooter, nervously.

"Hey," she said casually, hiding most of her apprehension. "So, I know you wanted to go on a date tonight, but as I think I mentioned once, I'm a co-director for the school's musical this year, and the first performance is tonight. So unless you wanted to go to that as our date, we probab-"

Cooter cut her off. "That sounds perfect. I would love to be your date to the opening night of that play. What was it again? West Side Story?"

Shannon blushed, literally tickled pink that he wouldn't mind a high school musical being their first date. She nodded in order to confirm that was indeed the name of the play, and he reached out and took her hand, not seeming to care at all that she hadn't even changed out of her coach uniform.

They headed straight toward the auditorium.

With their hands still holding onto each other's, Shannon beamed, proud to be recognized in this moment by a few parents, students, and faculty in the audience. People she'd met would see that she wasn't a lonely old spinster but rather did, clearly, have some kind of a love life. Emma nudged Will when she noticed Shannon, and the happy couple took in the sight of their friend on a date, and shot her a smile. Shannon didn't even notice them, so consumed with her own excitement and happiness. She just hoped Cooter would enjoy the musical, and that maybe she could avoid shedding any embarrassing tears when she heard Blaine and Rachel sing that one particular duet.

At the end of the night, Shannon was relieved that her date had found her emotional investment in the music and plot endearing; she was so grateful to not be criticized for crying. She was actually in good company with her tears – the conclusion of the musical was so heartbreaking, there was hardly a dry eye in the house.

Cooter waited patiently for Shannon as she congratulated all of the student performers. The two of them lingered back at the school until most of the other cars had left the parking lot, passing the time by talking about how impressed they were with the amateur production, and then, in the moonlight, Cooter reached out and touched Shannon's face, and then gently pressed his lips against hers. Shannon found her eyes glistening with fresh tears all over again, but unlike the ones she'd shed at the end of the show, these were accompanied by a lightness in her chest. A pure and true happiness.

Shannon was surprised by how quickly her relationship with Cooter progressed, but she couldn't have been more thrilled. Three weeks after that first date, she had lost count of how many evenings they spent either at his place or hers, of how many meals they'd shared, of even how many times they'd chastely kissed before parting ways at night.

She didn't want to consider themselves 'boyfriend and girlfriend' officially, because those seemed like such childish terms, and she felt at least a decade too old for them. Maybe some other forty-one-year-old women were fine with the term. Some of her co-workers at McKinley, such as Emma and Will who were both in their thirties, seemed fine with that nomenclature. But Shannon felt so awkward with the terminology. She couldn't possibly be someone's 'girlfriend', or call Cooter something that implied 'boy'! It felt off, somehow; wrong. At the same time, she couldn't help but feel young all over again when in Cooter's presence.

She intellectually knew the next step would be an evening in bed together, a 'first time' which was something girls tended to go through, rather than women, but Shannon tried not to think much about that particular inevitability, focusing instead on enjoying each moment as it happened in the present. She let Cooter set the pace, since he was so much more experienced than her. But then the time for that next step arrived when Shannon was not expecting it. She couldn't ignore the reality of it any longer.

They were sitting on Cooter's couch on a late Saturday afternoon, the college football game they'd been watching having just concluded, when Cooter shut off the television with the remote and then turned toward Shannon.

"Let's make love," he said softly, seductively – cutting right to the chase. His fingers grazed hers lightly.

Shannon's eyes went wide. Cooter didn't notice her reaction, though, as at that moment his eyes were fixated somewhere lower on her person. Was he really taking in the sight of her tits? Or maybe – imagining her pants off? What was he doing? Shannon barely had time to internally panic. Before she knew it, he was taking her hand in his and guiding her up off the couch, away from the living room, and into the bedroom on the other side of his one-floor house.

"I know you don't think you are, but you're so darn sexy," Cooter commented, glancing up and down her body, which was clothed casually. He sat down on the bed in front of her while she stood, a few feet away. "It's gonna be my honor," he added in his slightly southern drawl, "to be the only man who'll ever get to see you in the nude." He briefly shot her a smile that seemed kind, loving, and maybe… a tad prideful?

Shannon felt uncomfortable as he said the words, and as she saw that smile. In the nude!? She wasn't ready for this. But she realized he had a point. The only man. It was true. He would be the only one. No one else ever had, nor ever would, want to see her naked body. She felt like she should feel lucky to be wanted in this fashion. In a way, she even felt obligatedto make this man happy, because he was the only man she'd ever encountered in her entire life who actually seemed to want to be with her, her obese body not deterring him in the least.

Slowly, sounding as if genuinely confused, he asked, "What are you still waiting for?"

She realized she'd been standing still in front of him, just thinking, for a moment or two too long. He wasn't angry; he was simply impatient for her to undress. It crossed her mind that this all felt a bit unfair, as he was still fully clothed, and she hadn't even been asked if she wanted this – to have sex right now. But then, milliseconds later, she was pushing the thoughts of things feeling unfair out of her mind, focusing instead on how of course it was natural for him to just assume she would want it. She'd never intended to lead him on, but wouldn't that be what backing out now would mean? She had explicitly told him she was so happy to finally be in her first ever romantic relationship of her life. This is what people in romantic relationships do.

"Sorry," she mumbled, and then she pulled her shirt up over her head - quickly getting it over with, like ripping off a band-aid. The action revealed her simple, completely unsexy white bra, and she stood there, waiting for his reaction. She realized her sports watch was still awkwardly on her wrist and quickly went to remove it. Her nervousness turned to relief as she saw his lips curve into a smile. She tried to convince herself this would be a positive experience. She gently placed the watch down on the ground next to her shirt. People enjoyed sex. This was going to happen, and it she tried to focus on the idea that this was going to be a good thing.

"Come here," he said strongly, his voice full of excitement and anticipation. She took a few steps toward him and he stood up off of the bed and grabbed her to pull her the rest of the way. He started kissing her passionately while feeling around her back, his fingers landing on the white strap as his tongue entered her mouth in a way it never had in the past. She felt a bit overwhelmed, and she wasn't sure how to react. So she just kept kissing him back, pushing her tongue around in his mouth, hoping she was doing it right, noticing as her bra fell off of her body, and then noticing as one of Cooter's hands began to cup, and massage, her tit. It felt… odd. She wouldn't call it bad, not really, but it wasn't good either. It was just… very different than anything she had ever experienced.

He pulled away for a moment, allowing for them both to catch their breaths, although the real reason for the break seemed to be so that he could rip his own clothes off. Cooter didn't stop with his shirt the way Shannon had. But he did start there, pulling it up off of his head with no hesitation and revealing all of his chest hair, some of which Shannon was surprised to realize was on him at all. Within moments he then also kicked off his shoes, roughly pulled off his socks, stripped down to his underwear, and then… wow. Shannon saw his erect cock, and it seemed so enormous to her. He was clearly in the moment. Her body didn't "cool him off" the way the thought of her had done for her football kids.

She found herself vaguely wishing his clothes were still on his body. She forced a smile, not wanting to be rude, not wanting him to know how confused she was feeling right now. He wanted to have sex with her. This was happening. She should enjoy this.

Cooter pulled her closer toward him, onto the bed, and began to kiss her passionately again, his hands fumbling a little as he felt around her curves, attempting to find a button and zipper at the front of her pants. She felt embarrassed as she realized he wasn't expecting her to be wearing pants with an elastic waistband. Soon enough he realized the truth and began to pull her pants off, just the same, not commenting on it, for which Shannon was grateful. She helped take them the rest of the way down, over her feet. Things were happening so quickly, and as he kissed her nipples, she realized she was beginning to feel aroused, blood rushing toward her genitals. Shannon wasn't surprised that he seemed to know what to do to her body, but somehow she felt disconnected from all of it. He started fingering her, doing things she'd only ever done to herself, but he didn't do quite enough for her to climax before he stopped and looked at her.

"Are you ready?" he asked, and Shannon was pretty sure she knew what he meant.

She hesitated. "Um… well, do you have a prophylactic?" she asked.

Cooter seemed confused for a moment. "A what?" Then he chuckled. "Oh, a condom. Of course sweetheart." He leaned over and reached into his bedside table and pulled one out. Before unwrapping it, he kissed her mouth again, and her tit one last time. Then he opened the package and slipped it onto his cock.

The experience of intercourse wasn't so bad, Shannon thought. Cooter didn't injure her, or anything. And he'd seemed really into it! As long as it wasn't going to be ending in a pregnancy, something she had long since been sure she didn't want, she could live with occasionally having sex with Cooter. She hoped it wouldn't be too often, though. The concept of closing one's eyes and thinking of England started to come to the forefront of her mind. And the hype – the idea that sex was something wonderful and irresistible? Shannon found it hard to believe that any women liked this. It was so much better to just pleasure herself. What was the big deal about sex?

She lay next to Cooter in bed, the sweat on their bare bodies dampening the sheets, the used condom now in the trash.

"Honey, that was worth the wait," he said with conviction.

She hadn't felt like they'd waited at all.

"I love you," he told her, for the first time, and Shannon realized it was true what people say – men fall in love after having sex. And this man? Cooter Menkins? He was now in love with her! She had never thought a man would ever be in love with her. She had never thought she'd get to experience that in her life. Tears started to well up in her eyes.

"Sweetheart, what's the matter?" he asked with concern.

She pulled her arm out from under the covers and wiped away the moisture on her eyelashes.

"Nothing. I… love you too," she said, softly. She wasn't sure she meant it, but she hoped he believed her.