AN: Smut ahead! Warning!
"Mhmm… Rum?" She draws back slightly and he follows her, not ready for the kiss to be broken yet.
"Yes, my sweet Belle?" He mutters, running his hand over her hair gently and marveling at her beauty.
"There will be plenty of time for this at home." She reminds him and his heart jumps at the words. Home. She's coming home with him. He is home. No more separation. "But I have to finish some stuff up here before I can come back with you. Is Jefferson waiting?"
"No." A little dazed at the reality of it all, he shakes his head. "No, I drove here myself."
"Alright." Belle touches his face gently, beaming at him. "Then let me do some laundry and clean up the studio, yeah? Then we can get something to eat and go home and talk."
"Talk?" He answers a little sadly and Belle untangles herself with him, laughing slightly.
"Yes, about ground rules and things. It's just a load or two, it'll be quick." She reassures him.
"Fine." He sighs heavily, like it's a great pain. "Laundry it is then. Our relationship can wait."
"Oh, I don't know about that." Belle's eyes are sparkling. "I can think of a couple things to do while we wait."
"Belle French." He says with open admiration as she gathers up the used towels and mats.
"I was going to massage your knee." She says with faux innocent. "Mr. Gold, what a dirty mind you have!"
"Wait and see." He mutters and makes to follow her.
"Shoes! Off!"
"Seriously?"
"Yes." She glares until he groans and kicks his loafers off, standing in his stripped socks.
"Happy?" He demands and she shakes her head, stretching up on her tiptoes, pecking his lips.
"Now I am." She whispers and he doesn't even care that he looks like a lovesick puppy as he follows her back deeper into the studio.
"We have to talk." Belle mummers and he groans loudly, pulling himself away from her lips.
"Alright then, talk, and quickly." He orders. "I've wanted to kiss you in every room of this house, amongst other things, and I'd like to get to it."
"Is that why we started here?" Belle looks around at the library fondly and he smiles, kissing her neck.
"All those quiet nights reading and playing chess, just out of reach, do you know how crazy you were driving me?" He mutters and she laughs, tightening her arms around his neck.
"Probably as crazy as I was driving myself." She replies. "That's why I don't want you to overreact to my next words."
"What?" He asks, drawing back warily.
"I'm going to move out."
"What?"
"I said don't overreact!" She chides and he keeps his arms locked in an iron grip around her, fighting the urge to panic.
"Why do you want to move out?" He manages to get the words out in a reasonably calm tone.
"Because now we're together." She suddenly ducks her head shyly. "We are together, right?"
"Yes." He kisses her cheek, then when he's not satisfied, kissing her again. "Yes, yes, yes. Sweetheart, of course we are."
"Ok." Her cheeks are red. "And that's why I need to have somewhere that's my space. If we fight or get angry or need to be apart, for a little bit, I think it would be smart. I don't want to rush into this, I don't want to ruin it."
"You being here doesn't ruin that." He cradles her close and sighs in contentment. "You being here makes it perfect."
"We've been together for oh, two hours, and I'm already living with you?" She points out dryly and he nods happily.
"Belle, I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay here, with me, with Bae. You don't need some apartment for 'space' because you won't need to use it. We've lived together for months now, why would we regress?" He's using all of his charm and wits on her and beams in triumph when it works and she snuggles her head into his chest.
"I'm still going to look for apartments." She informs him after a pause and he suppresses a groan.
"Why?"
"Because I'm not going to be some sugar baby that mooches money off of you and lives rent free and gets nice clothes." She says firmly and he snorts in laughter at her terminology.
"You are not that." He informs her, kissing her nose. "You are my Belle, my darling Belle."
"Exactly." Her face softens slightly and she runs her fingers through his hair. "And would you like me half as much if I was in it for your money? I need my own space besides, for my own sanity. To know that I can do it, on my own, without my boyfriend paying the way."
"Boyfriend." He cringes at the verbiage. "I hate that word. Suitor. Paramour. Hopeless devotee. All better than boyfriend."
"You're ridiculous." Belle grins and kisses him deeply. "I'll still be here, most of the time. I like being with you, I don't see any reason to pack my things and run, but I'll just start looking, ok?"
"Fine." He relents unhappily. "But I won't have you settling for some death trap in Brooklyn. Or god forbid, Queens. I won't. So you can look, but it has to be for a good one."
"A good one that I can afford." She corrects and he nods eagerly. Belle laughs and kisses him and he greedily winds his fingers in her hair, because no such apartment will exist if he has a say in things.
Dating Belle is heaven. Even though he hates the terms dating and boyfriend or girlfriend, he will gladly refer to him and Belle that way. Though not much changes in their everyday, therapy is now interspersed with kisses and giggles, days at work and at the studio are now spent sending flirty text messages that make Mary Margaret snort with laughter when she gets a glance of them, and evenings at home, cooking for each other before retiring to the library. The biggest difference is now, Belle tucks herself into his side wherever he goes, nose in a book or her e-reader, and he's never felt so happy.
People notice, at work and elsewhere, that the beastly Mr. Gold is much more tame. He even smiles occasionally, and Belle laughs when he comes home one night to recount the sheer terror on his receptionist Ashley's face when he asked about the little baby girl she'd had. Belle had scolded him for his quip about stealing the baby, but he'd thought it fitting.
He leaves work a little earlier now, eager to get home and to his Belle. A couple times they've gone out for supper, holding hands and sitting in tables tucked in corners, but for the most part they stay home, in their own world, safe and sound from the chaos outside. Belle is his haven, with her laughter and love. He has never ever felt the way that he does with her.
"Darling." He pauses in the kitchen, leaning on the counter and watching as she stretches up and reaches for the spices.
"Yes?" She glances over her shoulder and smiles, looking at the recipe pulled up on her tablet with a frown.
"Stop, for two seconds." He orders and she goes back down on her flat feet, tilting her head curiously.
"I was going to make us shrimp scampi." She explains and he chuckles, kissing her head.
"Let's go out." He requests. "Let's go somewhere. You want Italian food? Del Posto. Let's go."
"Are you mad?" She stares at him, gaping. "One, reservations. Two, my outfit. Three, madness."
"Do you really think I haven't thought all of those things through?" He smiles at her and kisses her forehead. "I'll get us a table. I took the liberty of sending Mary Margaret out to pick out an outfit for you. I believe it's on my bed."
"You did what?" Belle is eyeing him skeptically and he maintains an innocent smile. "You planned this, didn't you?"
"Planned a date night for myself and my woman? I didn't think you'd protest." He comments and Belle looks ready to argue the point, then pauses.
"Wait. Mary Margaret picked me up an outfit?" She frowns slightly. "What does that entail?"
"I don't know." He says honestly. "I told her that I wanted to take you on a proper date and to shop accordingly. There's a box and large white bag, something about pearls?"
"What?" Belle frowns and then heads for his bedroom. He follows at a slower gait, though he's eager to see what Mary Margaret has done with his credit card and a free afternoon. Belle is staring at the two bags and a box on his bed with apprehension.
"Well, don't make me wait. I'd love to see." He says evenly from the doorway. Biting her lip, Belle slowly reaches into the larger of two bags and pulls out a beautiful white dress that will likely fall to right around her knees, with a cinched waist and lace sleeves.
"This is… Amazing." Belle runs her hands over the fabric in reverence. "This is Lela Rose."
"Very pretty." He comments, the name meaningless to him and Belle looks at him, aghast, then shakes her head and grabs the shoe box, popping it open. Sky-high nude Louboutins are nestled carefully amongst tissue paper and Belle's jaw drops as she pulls one out, inspecting it in awe.
"These are… Too much." She says distantly and his lips draw up in a smirk at the image of Belle in such shoes.
"They are not." He picks up the other shoe and inspects it. "You've walked in far higher heels dearie."
"This all costs too much! Plus dinner, I can't." She says firmly, putting the dress on the bed but cradling the heels.
"Think of this as a bonus. A gift, for dealing with the monster." He tries and she frowns, kissing him.
"You are not a monster." She mutters. "You are mine."
"What's in the last bag?" He asks, after kissing her. She frowns slightly and peeks inside, then goes bright red.
"Out." She orders, giving him a shove. "Out, out, out."
"What?" He frowns at her, carefully stepping backwards. "Are you kicking me out of my own bedroom?"
"Yes. Out." Belle gives him a firm jab to the chest.
"Belle." He says incredulously. Still blushing furiously, she forces him over the threshold and shuts the door. He stares at it in astonishment and when he hears the lock click, fishes his phone out of his pocket.
"Hello sir." Mary Margaret answers cheerfully.
"What did you do?" He demands and there's a careful pause.
"In reference to?" She asks and he sighs.
"What did you buy Belle?" He clarifies. "I saw the dress and the shoes and then she looked in the other bag and now I'm outside of my own bedroom. What was in that damn bag?"
"Oh." Mary Margaret's tone turns amused. "Have you ever heard of La Perla, Mr. Gold?"
"No." He says, recalling that name on the bag.
"Google it." She orders and before he can protest, she laughs. "And then thank me later. Have a good date!" She hangs up without remorse and he leans against the wall, grumbling but typing in the name nonetheless. A second later, when a rather expensive lingerie site pops onscreen, he decides that his plucky assistant is getting a raise.
Belle relinquishes his bedroom back to him when she's mostly dressed, heels dangling from her fingers. He eyes the empty white bag still left on his bed hungrily and wonders if waiting through dinner is worth it at all, but gets himself dressed, choosing dark shades to contrast with his vision in white. When she emerges from her bathroom, her hair has been pulled into a curly side pony, her makeup natural and effortless.
"Stunning." He comments lowly, taking her and spinning her. Even in the heels, she still doesn't clear him.
"Thank you." She whispers and he knows it's for more than the compliment. Instead, he kisses her cheek and leads her towards the car. He delights in the wonder in her eyes as he guides her into the restaurant; her surprise at the respect the wait staff gives them. He picks a good wine for them and Belle watches as her glass is filled, startled.
"Do you like it?" He asks, watching as she takes a sip.
"I think Ruby would have my head if she knew what I was drinking." She laughs and he chuckles with her. "It's amazing. This is amazing."
"Drink up." He says, smiling as she quirks an eyebrow.
"Trying to get me drunk, Mr. Gold? Hoping for something to happen after this date?" She teases and he reaches across the table, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles.
"That you are even in my life is more than I ever could've hoped for." He says honestly and Belle goes pink, ducking her head in delight. They order appetizers and their meal, sharing bites while they laugh. Belle guides the conversation and he is happy to sit back and listen to her stories about Ruby and yoga and her life as a whole. He's just happy to have her.
For dessert he orders them maceconia di frutta, remembering Belle's love all of things sweet. She gasps and moans at the first bite and he debates ordering the whole thing to go. When it's finally cleared away and she's got a little wine left while he nurses a whiskey, she glances at her stomach.
"No yoga in the world is going to work this off." She laments. "That was the best meal I've ever had. And to think I was going to make us some overcooked shrimp scampi."
"It would've been amazing." He assures her and Belle laughs, swirling her wine absentmindedly.
"Not like this." She says quietly then glances up at him. "You know, you don't have to do this. I would be perfectly content at home. I don't need the dresses and shoes and fancy wine."
"And that, my love, is exactly why you deserve them." He stands and offers her his hand. "Shall we?"
"How in the world did I get so lucky?" Belle questions, tucking herself in his side as they head for the door.
"As I recall, you steadfastly refused to be intimidated by me." He chuckles and Belle smiles, turning her head up to brush his neck with a kiss.
"You're not that scary once you're out of the suit and into the yoga clothes." She reminds him and he sighs heavily.
"Seems you know my weakness, Miss French."
"Seems I do." She whispers, then kisses him and slips her hand into his. "Take me home, Mr. Gold."
The car ride seems both too slow and too fast, Belle's hand on his knee like that awful night, but she's smiling and humming. His hands are trembling, nervous and scared, but also giddy with anticipation. All he wants to do is hold her, because she has the uncanny knack for making everything in the world melt away, until it's just them.
"Tomorrow I intend to sleep the morning away." Belle declares boldly, once they walk in the front door and he pauses to turn on the security system. He snorts in amusement.
"You'll be up before the sun dearie, your body doesn't know how not to be." He reminds her.
"And how exactly do you know about my body?" She's wrapped him in a hug from behind, squeezing just slightly. Her breath tickles his ear and he shivers, turning carefully to face her.
"Because I have worshipped it from the day I met you." He says quietly and Belle raises any eyebrow.
"Is that so?"
"All those tops with the missing panels?" He informs her and she grins. "Torture, Belle, exquisite torture."
"Come on then." She takes his hand and pulls him to his bedroom carefully. "There's more to be seen."
"Belle." He mutters and she shushes him with a kiss, then several more, until he hardly realizes that she's drawn him to his bed. She pushes him down to sit and he does as told, watching her in awe. Shyly, she reaches for the zipper of her dress, lowering it before tugging the dress off.
His heart stops in shock. Belle is wearing a bra and panties of lace in the palest blue, contrasting with her eyes spectacularly. She stands in her heels, peeking out at him from under her eyelashes. He can do nothing but stare at her in astonishment, from her long legs and round butt, to her flat stomach and small, perfect breasts. She pulls her hair from its pony and shakes it out.
"Well?" Her voice isn't timid but he catches the note of fear that he's going to dismiss her. Speechless, because that's the last thing he would ever do, he beckons her closer.
"You are… A vision." He says softly, drawing her into the bed and kissing her softly. "A goddess." Another kiss. "A queen. Stunning. Beautiful. Amazing. Gorgeous. Absolutely everything I could have hoped for. Dreamed for. More than I deserve, surely." Each statement is punctuated with a kiss.
"You know, there is quickly going to come a day where I won't be able to bring myself to leave your side." She informs him and the beast inside, dormant for most of the night, roars to life.
"Good." He says roughly then flips her onto her back and kissing her deeply. "Belle, my darling, are you sure?"
"Yes." She whispers fiercely, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling, just slightly. He kisses her again then kisses her cheek before moving to her earlobe. He takes his sweet time moving down her body, because Belle makes the most wonderful sounds as he kisses every inch of her fair skin, and he wants time to calm the nerves suddenly arising.
"Belle." He pauses when he reaches her hipbones, looking up at her for one last affirmation.
"Please." She moans and he carefully removes her panties, digging his nails into her hips before he can stop himself. Belle jerks beneath him and he looks at her in alarm, wondering if he's hurt her, but she's panting now and he holds back a smile. His sweet Belle doesn't mind a little pain on the road to pleasure. He makes a careful mental note of that before he nips at one hip and then lowers his face between her legs.
Belle squirms and writhes, hips bucking wildly as he teases her carefully, but he holds her down firmly. He's dreamt of this for months and he's taking his damn time to savor every moment of it. He commits everything to memory, how she tastes, how his name sounds when she's moaning it, how if he flicks his tongue just so, she'll gasp. He can feel her get closer and closer, until with some gentle pressure, she comes undone.
"Belle." He groans, feeling just how wet she is. Suddenly, she's yanking him by the hair back up to her face and she kisses him, hard, hands going to the tie around his throat.
"Off, all of it, get it off, now." She growls and he works on the tie while Belle does the buttons on the shirt beneath. Once the top half is discarded far across the room, Belle works on his pants. Every brush, even accidental, on the fabric over his crotch causes him to gasp. Belle's mouth twists up into a smile when she realizes what she's doing to him.
"You are a force of nature." He mutters, when Belle finally manages to rid him of his pants. Her bra goes flying moments after.
"And you are incredible. Absolutely incredible." She whispers, kissing him before snaking her hand between them and grabbing him firmly. He restrains himself from whimpering, but when Belle begins to stroke him, slowly, he can't help but to gulp for air.
"Belle." He whispers, as she rolls him over so he's on his back. "Belle, do you need a… You know?"
"No." Belle's face splits into a huge smile and she rests her forehead against his. "I'm on birth control, no worries. No babies."
"Oh, good." He says, a little vaguely, because the idea of Belle having his children proves to be a distracting thought. Then she's kissing him again and all he can focus on is how soft and supple she is in his hands, how he can palm her breasts so perfectly, how delicious the ache in his stomach feels. Belle teases him with kisses until it's all he can do but grab her tightly and take his turn begging. "Belle. Please. Belle. I need you."
"I need you more." She whispers back and he buries his face in her neck, because the words make him feel like crying, and Belle lowering herself onto him is the kind of bliss he never expected. She's moaning in his ear about his size, about good he feels, but he can hardly pay attention. He's got Belle and the world seems to slow to that fact and that alone.
"Belle. Belle. Belle." He whispers her name over and over again, thrusting, clasping her close to him. She can't be close enough, not when every inch of her that touches him is like a soothing balm, making him feel younger, happier, better. She is a drug and he is her addict, and he will fight until the end of time rather than give her up for anything.
"Yes, please, yes, yes, god Rum, please." She bites his earlobe and he moans, holding her. He's close, but he doesn't want this to end. Until Belle gives his hair a little tug and with a shudder, he lets it all go. Belle rides him until he's spent and collapses back onto the pillows. She stays where she is, tracing patterns on his chest as he gently strokes her sides.
"Do you know what you mean to me?" He asks her softly and she looks at him, blue eyes slowly clearing. She smiles slowly.
"I'm beginning to think I mean quite a lot, considering the amount of money now crumpled on your floor." She remarks and he spares a glance at the clothes and shrugs.
"Mrs. Potts knows how to clean such things. You mean everything Belle, everything." He says eagerly.
"I know." She whispers, leaning down to kiss his forehead before carefully moving to lie next to him.
"You're not moving out." He says sleepily, pulling her into his arms and sighing in contentment at their positions.
"I'm getting a little apartment. For emergencies." She says it very unconvincingly and he smiles, closing his eyes.
"Emergencies, yes. All the emergencies we will be having. I said I'm never letting you go." He reminds her.
"And you never break a deal." Belle kisses his temple and snuggles closer, tucking the blankets around herself.
"No, never."
"Then make me a deal that things will always be like this."
"Deal." He holds her tightly. "Goodnight, my beautiful Belle."
"Goodnight Rum."
AN: Oh, do you like? Reviews are where you can tell me, hint, hint, hint...