Based on a prompt on disney-kink-meme on livejournal.
A basket hangs from Belle's arm, filled with goodies from the kitchen that Mrs. Potts had convinced her to take. The older woman is often trying to persuade Maurice to come live in the castle so he can taste the kitchen staff's cooking when it's still hot and fresh but he insists that he can't leave his home. Besides, he often tells the housekeeper, the newlyweds need privacy away from him.
Belle misses her father dreadfully but she has to agree with him. Adam is doting and would honor her request if she asked for her father to live with them but she knows he would resent it for the same reasons that she would. In the months since their marriage, Belle has learned just how pleasurable it is to spontaneously but passionately make love in places like the library and the dining room (after the staff has been dismissed for the day of course). That wouldn't be as easy with her father there.
Her carriage had only taken her to the edge of the village before Belle had disembarked, preferring to make the rest of the journey on foot. It's emotional as she walks through the village, recalling mornings spent chatting with the other villagers, and morning spent being mocked for being who she is. It's later in the evening, later than she would normally be out, but Belle had news that she wished to share with her father that couldn't wait.
"That beast not keeping you locked in the kitchen like a good woman should be?"
Belle startles, nearly losing her grip on the basket as she turns. The color of her face drains as she sees the man leaning casually against the tavern, as if she hadn't seen him fall to his death nearly a year previous. It's hard to make him out but she'd recognize that voice anywhere.
His lips twist in cynical amusement, his arms dropping from where they were crossed over his chest as he straightens up. "You look like you've seen a ghost, sweetheart. Didn't expect me to survive that fall, did you? I barely did. No thanks to you or your husband."
Letting out the breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Belle tries to think of a response. He was right. She had thought that he had died and with that, that she would never have to so much as see his face again. Now she's forced to interact with him. It's almost subconscious, walking forward to speak to him without shouting. Perhaps it's just the shock of wanting to find out if he's real.
Some parts of her are screaming inside her head, telling her to run, to get to safety. The other part of her is aware of the dagger in her boot and the fact that hopefully Gaston realizes that Adam would tear him limb from limb if he ever hurt her. She wants to think that those two things are protection enough from him.
"Cat got your tongue? Or are you just going to stand there staring. Nothing wrong with that. I do have gorgeous features."
Those words force a laugh from her although she knows that Gaston isn't trying to be funny. He genuinely believes that he's a gift to the women of France, specifically her. "You were right the first time. I was surprised to see you here. How did you survive?" Belle can't help her curiosity although she wonders if that subject is really the best to broach with him.
Gaston shakes his head and she stops when she realizes that she's completely off the path now. The light from the street doesn't illuminate much with them so far away and the sun is too far down to cast more than a dim glow upon them. Dagger. Adam. She repeats the words in her mind, forcing away the images of Gaston trying to stab Adam in the back. A year ago she never would've imagined Gaston capable of that.
"Let's not talk about how you two left me to die. Let's talk about your new marriage. I heard that you lived there for four months before the wedding took place. Tell me, did you give him what you always denied me even before he signed his life away to you? Did you let him fuck you while talking about how you were too good for the men of the village?"
The color immediately returns to Belle's face this time, irritation filling her. To hear him talk about her and Adam's life so crudely angers her. "For your information, no. Unlike you, Gaston, Adam has a sense of decency. We waited until our wedding night."
Gaston laughs at her ire which just makes more flare up inside of her. It's a silly thing to get so upset over but it's not only the words. It's everything that he's ever done to her that she's never been able to stop before. It's what he tried to do to Adam, to her father. It's every word against women that he ever uttered to her.
"Your wedding night. How romantic. Were there roses?" The way the muscular man says it makes Belle think about the rose that almost caused Adam's death. She wonders if he said it that way on purpose or if it was just a coincidence. Before she can think to ask, he continues. "He acted like an animal before he transformed back into a man. Did he fuck you like one too?"
A year ago Belle would've blushed, told him off for using such language in front of her. The thought flits through her mind that Gaston has never gone so far before. He's implied so many things, has told her that he would force her into marriage if he had to, even alluded to forcing her into more. But he's never been so downright crude with her. Perhaps he had still considered her naïve and innocent, the way that all girls should be to him.
"That's none of your business," Belle snaps, taking a step back when Gaston steps forward, her heart thudding in her ears as she realizes that he's manipulated them, forced her to take tiny steps until her back is facing the tavern. The step just sends her further back into darkness. "You know nothing about him or us. Some men care about the women in their lives, about their marriage and their wife and their vows. Don't think I don't know how many women you've already had and would've continued to have even if I'd married you."
It's hard to see in the dim light of the alley but Belle thinks that Gaston looks surprised by that. How could he, she wonders. It had been one of the girls from the village who'd told her, mostly in a way to keep Gaston to herself. As if Belle had ever wanted him.
"If I don't know you after knowing you since we were children then you certainly don't know me," Gaston bites out, almost angrily. It's angry in the way that he'd been angry at Adam, never at her and she takes another few steps back. He simply follows her, his face twisted into a sneer that still can't mar his conventionally attractive features. Belle might not like them herself but she understands why others do. "What about that beast? Do you spread your legs enough to keep him satisfied? Does he not need to go to anybody else?"
"Don't talk about him that way, about my marriage. He's a good man and he respects me and no! He doesn't need to go to anybody else. I do keep him satisfied thank you!" The words are out before Belle can think about their meaning, before she can think to call them back.
Gaston looks strangely smug over that, moving forward until her back hits the wall he was leaning against previously. She wonders if he can hear the way that her heart is beating in overtime and suddenly she realizes that a dagger from her boot isn't going to help her. She knows that she has to try and she abruptly drops the basket, attempting to reach down for the blade. Before she can even move, Gaston has her wrists, pinning them above her head.
It pulls at her bodice, shifts the fabric and she thinks of the many times that Adam has done this. She loves when he's just on the other side of rough, pushing her down, holding onto her and making love to her desperately. She knows that Adam would never hurt her. She knows that she can't think the same thing about Gaston.
With her arms above her head, Belle realizes that she's gotten herself into a situation she's not sure she can get out of. She had never feared Gaston in this way before. Perhaps she had thought that he wouldn't do something to jeopardize her agreement to marriage when she was still alone. Perhaps she had thought he was a better man than one to try to stab somebody in the back. Whatever it is, she fears him now.
Now he presses his body closer to hers. She can feel his body heat against her own and her eyes slide down of their own accord. His muscles ripple underneath his shirt that's too tight and his chest heaves with the heavier breaths that he's taking following her admission. The fabric presses against her own chest as he leans in closer and she can smell alcohol on his breath.
"Is that so, little beauty? How about you share that with me?"
"How about I don't? You have plenty of women in the village to harass, Gaston. Please. I was just going to my father's. I'm thankful that you survived the fall now let me go."
Gaston laughs abruptly but doesn't let go of her wrists. His face is close to her, close enough that she can imagine what it would be like if he decided to kiss her. She wouldn't have much of a choice, she knows, if he did decide to. Even without the feeling, she knows that Gaston's kiss would be nothing like Adam's kisses. Even in Adam's roughest moments with her, his lips are always gentle. Gaston's lips look dry, chapped and up closer, it's obvious that Gaston has had more than just a little to drink tonight.
"You're thankful? You're thankful I survived?" Gaston asks and he's so close to her now that she can see the individual hairs on the curve of his chin, on the slopes of his cheeks. Belle's trying not to think of all that he could do to her in this alley but the thoughts invade her mind anyway. Would she be able to call for help? Would anybody come? Perhaps Gaston has women back here often and if she's only screaming… "You're a liar, Belle and I don't appreciate that. All I want is a little sample of what you always denied me."
Belle's trembling now, thinking of the news that she had to tell her father and she forces herself to be calm. Mrs. Potts had told her that too much excitement wasn't good for her, although she'd laughed because she was sure that Adam would be thrilled when he was told. Belle had wanted to tell her father first, though, after Mrs. Potts anyway. She wants to tell Adam in a special way.
Noticing the way that she's shivering, Gaston shakes his head, his hold on her wrists tightening until they're nearly painful. She jerks as she feels the way that his knee presses against hers, sliding slowly between her thighs, threatening to touch her most intimate place. "What, little beauty? Is this not what you had in mind when you walked through town after dark? Were you running away from your husband? Need a real man?"
The words are meant to rile her. He knows full well that she's not leaving Adam but they spark the fear that's already there. The fear ignites into terror borne from the dark and his words and now his touches. Before she can think about what to do, she's struggling against him. The threat is too real for her to plan an attack well enough to actually get out of his hold or even cause him any injury. It only results in the brush of his knee against her and then she can't stop the tears from coming.
"Don't, Gaston. Please. I don't know what you have to prove but don't do this. Adam wouldn't rest until you paid for it and- and-" Belle can scarcely go on, looking down at the ground instead of up at Gaston's face. The hold on her wrists is fluctuating, loosening and then tightening as she talks and so she continues, hoping she's getting through to him. "I'm pregnant. You don't want to marry me anymore anyway. Don't force me. Please."
Her hands are dropped so abruptly that she doesn't even realize he's let go until he's nearly a foot away from her. She stares at him in the darkness, still horrified at the thought of him raping her but comforted by the distance between them. She can't see his face from his distance so it doesn't completely make her feel better.
"You think I plan on raping you?"
Trying to compose herself, Belle reaches up to brush the tears from her cheeks, swallowing thickly because having to admit that she was pregnant to him had taken a lot out of her. Mrs. Potts is the only one who knows and she had specifically planned on her father and Adam finding out next. It felt like even without forcing her, he had drawn a secret from her that she hadn't at all wanted to give because of her fear. "Isn't that what you were doing getting so close to me?"
Gaston steps closer again and now she can see the absolute disgust on his masculine features. "I don't need to rape women, Belle. I intimidate, I manipulate, I lie and I cheat but Gaston doesn't force women. I get plenty of women falling at my feet themselves."
It takes a few moments for Belle to process this, to comprehend the fact that Gaston looks almost offended. "But you were… The way you were talking to me…"
"If I had wanted you I would've taken you before. I don't want a woman screaming in anything but ecstasy when I fuck her," Gaston says and he huffs out a frustrated breath, shaking his head. Belle wants to reach down for the dagger, in case he comes at her again but she's still too shaken up to believe she could use it as a weapon. "You're something else, Belle. That animal can have you."
Belle thinks that she should be relieved by those words although the way that they're said, exhausted disgust almost, makes her wonder if she really is. She moves forward a few steps and reaches down slowly, careful to keep him in her eyesight, picking up the basket she had dropped earlier. She feels like she should apologize, but for what, she's not sure.
Her moment of indecision takes too long. The moment passes and he moves past her, leaning against the tavern and pulling a small bottle from his pocket to take a swig. Belle knows that she's been dismissed and so she heads towards the entrance of the alley, ready to be back in the light and protection of the streets after this encounter.
"I hope your baby doesn't come out with fur and a tail."
Belle turns around to face Gaston again at the words. She lets out a breath, closes her eyes and then opens them. "Goodbye and good luck in the world to you too, Gaston."
With those parting words, she heads off, knowing she has to get to her father's house and back before it's too late and Adam comes searching for her. She doesn't know whether she'll tell him about the encounter. She doesn't want Adam to think he has to seek revenge and besides, it left her uncomfortable. Perhaps she'll think about it for a while. It would do her well to think about it herself, she decides.
And anyway, she has much happier news she has to tell her husband first.
