A/N: My submission for The Great Rumbelle Blow Off. Written the day before, so it probably sucks. No pun intended.
He was going to kill Geppetto. He paid that man good money for the upkeep of the old Victorian Mansion that served as his law office building. Rumford Gold knew that it could be difficult work for a man of Geppetto's age, but how bloody difficult was it to make sure that the most important part of the building still managed to work when there was a bloody power outage. Didn't he have backup generators for this sort of thing?
He sighed and felt his whole body rattle as his head thunked against the old-fashioned wooden wall of the elevator. It had been his decision to have it installed in the historic house— a man could only get around so well on one and a half working legs and a cane— and the four levels plus basement of the house could be hell on his ankle. It wasn't an outrageous idea. Now, however, he was starting to question his decision.
Storybrooke was known for its rather impressive storms this time of year, the costal currents making their atmosphere go haywire for a few months until the summer sun decided to clear everything up, and yet he could not recall there being a storm this awful. It was a struggle for him to keep his car on the straight and narrow on the drive in, so strong were the winds. Most of his employees were soaked to the skin by the time they made their way in front of an office fireplace, attempting to salvage a presentable look of their business attire. Gold could recall his intern Mary Margaret looking the worst of the bunch, her small frame and short hair turning her into the likeness of a small woodland creature once the water and wind were through with her.
It wasn't until the rain was coming down sideways and the trees were nearly bent in half that he finally decided to send his employees home, deeming that the storm would only get worse and that it wouldn't be safe for them to drive in such conditions.
That didn't mean, however, that he had planned on stopping work early. Of course, it was the one time that his workaholic nature managed to fail him. He ended his day at five o'clock on the dot and was shocked to find that he hadn't been alone in the house as he had thought. His secretary, Belle French, was packing up her things and turning out lights as he closed the door to his office. Clearly he wasn't the only one dedicated to their work.
He couldn't find it in himself to make a snide or sarcastic comment, not that he would anyway. It was rumored around the office that he had a soft spot for his secretary, and the rumor was indeed correct. Most of the time. When he didn't have a soft spot for the beautiful woman, it was mainly due to the fact that he had a hard one. A very hard one. But not now.
Now, he could see the lightening flash over them both and feel the thunder shake the old house and only managed to raise an eyebrow at her in question. She merely quirked her lips in a smile as if to say "Eh, did you really expect anything different?" Gold shook his head and gestured toward the elevator with his cane, holding his other arm out for her to take.
And that was how he got himself into this bloody mess. Well, themselves, as it were. He could make out Belle's shape as she got settled onto the ground, curled into the back corner of the elevator and seemed to make herself comfortable. He supposed she had the right idea— they were going to be stuck here for awhile.
Stretching out his injured leg as he got to the floor, blessing the gods that he didn't make a fool out of himself as he did, he pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his overcoat.
"No service."
He hadn't realized that he had spoken out loud until he heard Belle sigh next to him and shuffle closer to him. It was by no means freezing in the elevator, but it was colder than was strictly comfortable. She curled up next to him, tucking her arms inside of her jacket and resting her head against the outside of his shoulder. Nothing untoward, just a simple gesture of comfort and good faith.
Gold felt himself relax and settle back with her, the two of them staring quietly into the near blackness ahead of them. He noticed that she was taking the whole thing remarkably well. Perhaps five minutes passed before she finally spoke.
"It wouldn't matter anyway."
"Hmm."
He had been lost inside his head, thinking of how fortunate he was to be stuck in an elevator with her and not someone worse, like David Nolan. He almost shuddered at so horrific a thought the he had missed what she had said.
"It wouldn't matter. If you had cell service?" She hadn't turned to look at him, not finding it necessary in the minimal light, but he could hear the "duh" tone of her voice. He kept from poking her in the side as he replied.
"Oh?" He inflected jest as well as sarcasm into his voice as best he could. "And why's that, dearie?"
She giggled before answering. "Don't you read the post-it notes that I give you?"
"Only the ones shaped like teacups. The rest of them just aren't interesting enough to warrant my time."
She bolted up, letting out a near squawk of indignation. Belle turned to look at him, making out his shape in the low light as best as she could, and actually poked him dead center in his chest. Great minds think alike, he supposed with an internal smile.
"That is completely unfair." She enunciated the words clearly, hoping that they might manage to resonate in his mind. "All of the post-it notes that I leave for you are important! I'm your secretary for god's sake, you should learn. To. Read. Them." Each of her final four words were punctuated by another poke, the final one landing right above his heart. Gold wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh at her indignation or sigh and smile at how adorable she looked. He chose the former, considering it to be the safer response.
"Sorry, dearie. I guess you'll just have to exclusively buy teacup post-its, then." He smirked, and she stuck her tongue out at him in response before turning and laying her head back down on his shoulder. He couldn't help but notice that she was a bit closer this time, the top of her head nearing his collarbone. He smiled in the dark, taking comfort that she couldn't see him. He was quiet for a moment, before realizing that she had never answered his initial query.
"Post-it note shape aside, why is it that my lack of cellular service isn't relevant to our current situation?"
He felt her hand slide from her knee to rest against the side of his, not quite touching, but providing a warmth that he couldn't help but take comfort from.
"Geppetto is out of town." Gold raised his eyebrows in surprise. He really would have to start reading his post-it notes. "He went to Boston to go see his son at the University. He and Leroy are the only ones who would know how to get us out, even if there was power." He leaned forward a hair, words poised on his lips before she cut him off. "And before you ask, Leroy won't be of any help to us now. If we're having an 'end of the world' storm, chances are high that he's already three or four glasses in at Granny's. And I don't know about you, but I don't want a drunk Leroy operating large machinery that currently contains us. Or any machinery, come to think of it." Belle's voice grew quieter as the words trailed off into silence, both of them relaxed in quiet contemplation. They could hear the storm raging outside and Gold knew that they were thinking the same thing.
They were stuck in here.
**R+B**
Gold wasn't sure how long they sat silently in the dark, but he could feel her body slowly sinking into his as the seconds ticked by. He could guess perhaps half an hour had went by since one of them had spoken, and he could only assume that she had fallen asleep. He was tempted to bring his hand up to run through her hair, thinking that he would never get another opportunity. Gold had only managed to gather his courage, his hand halfway up when he was startled by the break in the silence.
"Truth or dare?"
To this day, he still would never know how he kept himself from jumping at the sound of her voice. It took him a moment to process what she had said, and by the time he did, he couldn't keep himself from laughing.
"Seriously?"
He could hear Belle smile as she replied.
"Yes, seriously." His laughter continued the her childish emphasis in her reply. "What else would you have us do?"
He knew what else they could do. He knew plenty of other what elses they could do. Pulling himself out of his fantasies before he could get completely sucked in, he decided to take the bait.
"Alright, you've got me. I'll play. What do I have to lose?" She laughed at his final words and he couldn't help but feel like he just signed a contract with the devil. He was quick to add. "Anything discussed inside of this elevator is to be kept between us. Is that understood?" He was stern as he spoke, but she knew he still found the whole thing funny. She always knew with him.
Belle poked him on the thigh, muttering "killjoy" under her breath, but she didn't ask him anything further. He quickly grew impatient with the silence, finally releasing a tense "Well?" into the void.
"Well what? I'm waiting on you." She sassed him back, not a trace of fear in her voice. "You still have to pick— truth or dare?"
He took a moment to think it over. There were a limited amount of what he would qualify as 'good' dares that could be completed under the current circumstances, but there wasn't much that he would be uncomfortable telling her, either. He trusted her. She could, however, dare him to do something once they got out of the elevator, something that may or may not involve David Nolan. He wasn't willing to take that risk. Alright then.
"Truth."
And so it began.
**R+B**
"If you could have a dragon, what color would it be?"
"Green and gold with glittery scales. Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"How many pairs of heels do you actually own?"
"Fourteen. Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"Did you really hire Emma Swan because you liked her name?"
"Among other reasons, but yes. Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
"I dare you to send Granny a love letter and sign it from Dr. Hopper."
"Archie would kill me if he ever found out!"
"Oh, well, that's the game. I know of your talent for handwriting mimicry. I'm choosing to use it for my own nefarious deeds. Take the dare or swap for a new, possibly worse, one."
"Ugh. Okay, fine, I accept. Truth or dare?"
"Dare."
"I dare you to have a staff Halloween party and for you to dress up as the dragon you previously described."
"I should've seen that payback coming. Fine. Set up someone decent to cater, at least. I won't have Granny overcharging again. Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"What's your guilty pleasure read, Miss Bookworm?"
"…"
"Well?"
"….wudv…"
"Sorry, dearie, I couldn't quite hear. What was that?"
"The erotic version of Jane Eyre, alright?"
"Yes, fine."
"Good. Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"What's your favorite thing about sex?"
**R+B**
It was like everything stopped around him. The dark of the elevator seemed to burst with light and he could feel himself burning, and not in the good way. He was just grateful that she couldn't see him blush. It had been ages since he had gotten laid. Years even, and it had never been particularly good. He'd thought about her, true. More times that he'd care to share, but there was a difference between a fantasy and an actual, physical act.
He sent his mind back years into the past to the last time he had lain with a woman. What was particularly enjoyable about it? Not much. He had to answer her, though, and as honestly as possible. Belle didn't seem bothered by the time that it took him to answer, waiting patiently at his side. After a few moments, he managed to breathe out something resembling an honest answer.
"I suppose just the act of being physically close with another person." Now that got a reaction out of her, though it wasn't necessarily the reaction he had anticipated. She laughed. Slightly mocking, but not in a mean way. A sort of charmed disbelief.
"Really? That's surprising. Most men I know would've answered that they love getting sucked off the most."
More of her soft, surprised chuckles echoed in the small space before fading once more into silence. He could feel it stretching out tangibly between the two of them, knew that he was only making it worse by not saying anything. But what could he say? How could he possibly say that he had never had a blowjob before? If she had laughed at his almost-honest answer, he could only imagine how long it would take her laughter to stop if he told her the entire truth. So, silent he remained, until she started to shift next to him. With a huff Belle finally turned around to face him again, although why she did it at this point he couldn't tell. He could hardly see anything— one of the emergency lights had gone out, taking with it a precious amount of light.
"Do you have some sort of issue with getting sucked off?" It was strange for him to hear her continue to speak in such blatantly crude tones, but he couldn't find it in his heart to mind it.
Her head tilted to look at him, angling just so that one of the remaining overhead lights glinted in her eye— he saw the confusion, the humor, but most importantly, he saw the jest and understanding. She wouldn't mock him for his confession. He was almost sure of it. Almost.
"I wouldn't know." He dropped his gaze from hers, despite knowing that she wouldn't be able to see his eyes anyway. They blended too well into the darkness and shadows.
"What do you mean? Wouldn't know what?" Her voice had gone quiet, and for once he found himself just wishing that she would bring up the elephant in the room and not beat around the bush to get to something. It was a trait he often found endearing to her personality, but now he just wanted her to connect the dots and see the picture on her own. He could feel his anger rising, almost out of nowhere, but couldn't help himself when his answer blurted out of him.
"I've never had someone on their knees in front of me, sucking me off, okay?" He tried not to notice how she shifted away from him as his voice grew tenser with each word. "I've barely had a woman willing to grab me down there with her hand, let alone touch it with her mouth." He had never really said the worlds aloud before, regardless if they were admitted to anyone else let alone himself, and he couldn't escape the sudden self-loathing that jumped up at the confession. He managed to choke out the bottom-line answer around his anger and emotional misery. "I've never had a fucking blowjob, alright?"
It was almost silent in the elevator, the only sounds the storm still raging havoc outside and Gold slowing down his breath. Belle hadn't realized that her questions would make him so agitated and couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment that she had ruined the easy conversation that they had had going.
She waited until his breathing finally evened out, when she could tell that he was about to say something, when her mouth finally disconnected from the rest of her body and she blurted it out.
"Well, then. Let's fix that, shall we?".
**R+B**
Rumford Gold had no idea how it happened. He didn't remember what he had said in response or if she moved first or if they both moved simultaneously or if some higher magical power within the storm shot down and moved them of its own accord. All he knew in that next moment was that his legs were spread out with his secretary settled down on her stomach between them, leaning forward on her elbows, her mouth deliciously close to his crotch, and her small fingers opening up his belt and reaching for his zipper.
His mind was a sudden flurry of thoughts and information. Was he wearing a decent pair of boxers? Holy hell, he was getting a blowjob. Had he remembered to wash thoroughly down there when he was in the shower that morning? Was he supposed to be moving? Helping her with his pants? Would that make him seem over-eager? He needed protocol, dammit! Or a bloody guidebook. She certainly didn't. Was he supposed to say something? Thank her, maybe? She was giving him his first blowjob after all. Bloody tits, he was getting his first blowjob. Don't blow your pants, don't blow your pants!
Gold couldn't keep track of his internal freak-out session and manage to keep focus of what Belle was doing at the same time, so he decided to focus on the more important of the two and hope that things would just work out as they were meant to. Hopefully she would understand if he managed to screw up or do something wrong.
"Oh fuck."
Belle slid the zipper down on his suit pants, reaching into the expensive material to his boxers and the hard length she could feel inside. Taking him out, she could feel him practically shaking under her. She was glad for something as sturdy as an elevator to be holding him up. She wasn't sure if he would have been able to stay upright if he had been in a chair or, heaven forbid, standing. The sight of him perfectly dressed to the nines, the exception being his rock hard cock sticking out, was almost more than Belle could take and she knew she'd be filing the image away for later fantasies. This was about him. Her own feelings, and hormones, be damned.
She pulled her knees underneath her so she would have something to keep her propped up off of the floor, as well as something to ease the angle of her neck. She wrapped her hand around him and stoked up and down once, twice, hearing his breath hitch, before leaning her head in and licking the underside of his cock from base to tip.
Belle could hear him muttering quiet curses under his breath and just make out the shape of his shaking hands from the corner of her eye. She licked him again, keeping her lips on his tip in a kiss, getting her first real taste of him. Wishing that the lighting was better so she could see his eyes, she lowered her mouth over him, taking him in for the first time. She would never forget the sound that escaped his lips when she did— a strangled combination of her name, god's, his curse word of choice (fuck, what else), and a guttural groan that was all animal and yet still somehow all him.
Gold couldn't quite believe what was happening. Of all of the wild fantasies he had conjured of himself and his secretary, he could quite honestly say that her going down on him in an elevator had never crossed his mind. Somehow, he couldn't find it in his heart to be bothered. He was in fucking heaven.
**R+B**
Rumford knew that he was a tiny man, with tiny feet, tiny hands, and a tiny— well, you get the picture. He was by no means minuscule, but he knew he was on the lower side of average. It had never really been a problem for him in his limited and far-gone sexual past. Growing up a scrappy boy in the streets of Glasgow taught him that despite his size he could still manage to perform well and win a fight … or any physical altercation as the case may be.
Any form of intimacy had long since passed him by, so he never gave much particular thought to his cock outside of his private fantasies of his secretary. Even those featured her much more than his own cock. But now, oh now he could honestly say that for the first time in his life he was glad that he wasn't massively well-endowed as most women claimed to desire.
Yes, he was smaller than the average man. But this meant that his little secretary could fit every single inch of him into her mouth and down her throat with relative ease. Her lower lip brushed the edge where his balls connected to his pelvis, providing a sensation like nothing he could ever have hope of adequately describing. Her hands were wrapped low around his hips and he could feel the tips of her fingernails just starting to dig into the edges of his ass through his pants.
His cock still in her mouth, she nuzzled her nose into his sparse pubic hair peaking out from his boxers, the nirvana of the situation completely wiping clear his mind of any embarrassing thoughts like if she minded the hair, if it was tickling her at all, or if she had been able to see the stray gray hairs that were starting to pop up down there amidst the dim emergency lighting of the elevator car.
He could feel the soft breeze of her inhaling and exhaling through her nose against his pelvic bone, the cooler temperature a sharp contrast to the warm heat of her mouth. He was amazed that Belle let him stay like that for so long, allowing him to get accustomed to the new sensation rather than just diving on top of him and wiping his mind clean of rational thought and having him come in just a few minutes. He was pleased with this decision; was it so wrong that he wanted to remember his first blowjob? Vividly remember, if he had his way.
Gold grounded himself enough to stop his shaking hands, bringing them up to card through her long hair, eased at the soft touch beneath his hands. He kept one hand locked around the base of her head, a gentle squeeze letting her know that he was alright.
"You can move." The words hardly made it past his throat, but she was able to glean enough information to know what he wanted.
She slid back, letting the cold air hit his wet skin, keeping just the tip of him still in her mouth, keeping him warm and safe. When she heard a gasp escape him, she plunged back down, relishing the feel of his hand tightening around her head.
He brought his free hand down to run along the side of her face, stroking feather light down her cheek. He ran the tips of his fingers over her lips where she was wrapped around him, the transition of her soft flesh to his own cock under his worn down fingertips amazed him, and he pulled her head back slightly so he could get a better feel for it.
Belle pulled back even more, maintaining a slow pace for his sake, but let just the tiniest bit of teeth scrap along his skin, her tongue playing with the little piece of flesh the hid just under his head. He let out a hiss, and Belle knew it was time to take it up a notch. Or twelve.
She set to work, keeping his trusts into her relatively shallow, allowing her greater speed and the opportunity for her tongue to get well acquainted with him, not just her lips and mouth.
Her tongue circled around him as her head bobbed, and he knew that he would've come on the spot if he had been able to see better. She surprised him yet again when she brought her hand up to slide down his balls, tracing the line that divided the two and that he had no idea would be so sensitive. Part of him was tempted to ask, to beg, for her to put her mouth down there for him, but the other part couldn't bear the idea that she might stop sucking him down for even a second. She might even decide to stop completely and, while he was by no means forcing her, he would really, really appreciate it if she wouldn't stop just now. Or ever.
Gold felt his existence nearly crawl out of his skin and into hers when he felt her tongue slide up and down the slight slit on the tip of his cock, the tip of her tongue pressing a teasing amount of pressure into it. He couldn't help himself and let out what, upon reflection, he was sure to be a rather feminine moan, but at this moment he just could. Not. Care.
She felt so good around him. So hot in her throat and tight in her lips and soft under her tongue and he was in her. And it was perfect. Time faded around him completely, as did his location. Neither noticed the regular lights slowly flicker back on, one by one, or the sudden whirring sound of electricity returning to the old mansion.
Belle picked up her pace, her fingers giving his balls an almost too hard squeeze and Gold's eyes flew completely open, finally taking notice of the light. Looking down, he could clearly see his secretary, his Belle, with her head between his thighs and his cock shoved between her lips, completely buried in her mouth. Her eyes were wide and bright looking up at him. She smiled around his cock as she winked at him and sucked him in tighter, practically swallowing him down whole.
It was more than enough to send him off.
They both heard his shout echo off the cramped walls and Belle hoped that it was a sound that she would hear again soon. Gold couldn't believe that a sound of such pure rapture could come from him.
He couldn't take his eyes off of her as he came, watching her eyes grow even brighter and his seed flew into her mouth.
As he came down from his high, Rumford Gold was certain that if he hadn't already had a heart attack, that the sight of her swallowing his come and licking the little remainder from her lips was enough to send him into cardiac arrest.
Belle sat up, leaning back and resting her butt on her heels. She looked rather satisfied with herself and Rum couldn't say that he blamed her. If he had been the sole reason that another human being had just found jesus, he'd feel pretty smug about it, too.
He knew that they should talk, that he should ask her if she wanted coffee or dinner or to come back home with him so he could tie her to his bed and fuck her for the rest of eternity. But he just didn't have it in him. He felt completely drained. Drained in such a beautiful, perfect way.
Belle took his moment of recovery to be the responsible one, taking full inventory of the lights and electricity. The elevator hadn't begun moving yet, but it seemed as though everything was in working order.
Gold managed to pick himself up off of the floor without making an ass of himself, the pain in his ankle the farthest thing from his mind, and tucked himself back into his pants with a private, satisfied smile.
He was sure that the look he gave Belle was one similar to a dog who had just been neutered and was still hopped up on meds, but he knew that she would understand.
Rum could see her mouth pull up in her own smile and, just as she was about to speak, the elevator started to move, startling them both.
Before either could quite figure out what had happened, the elevator car reached the first floor with a ding and the doors opened up.
Belle spun around when she saw Rum stiffen, his eyes going dark and his mouth pressed into a thin line.
She didn't know if she wanted to laugh, cry, or run, so she chose the final option of stunned silence. She rather thought that Rum said it well enough for the both of them.
"David Fucking Nolan."