Re: Beauty and the Beast 2/2
anonymous
November 9 2011, 01:30:33 UTC
She waited until she saw him in the square next, smoking yet another cigar with Lefou. "Those things are horrid," she said by way of greeting. "You'll taste of nothing but ashes if you keep up the habit."
Lefou was too slow to follow, but one of Gaston's eyebrows drew up, and he dismissed Lefou with a supercilious wave. "Belle, Belle," he said, and let the cigar fall. "You never settle for ordinary, do you?"
He was easy, really. She gave him a coy smile. "Why do you think I chose you?"
Gaston winked, and preened.
She said, "My father's going out of town tonight - to the maker's faire." She pushed the book into his hands, watched his eyebrows nearly disappear into his hair at the scandalous image on the cover. "I trust you can read. Pages 341 to 345. If you want to be my Huntsman, come to the front door after sundown."
He came. Belle felt strange admitting him in, a shiver running along her shoulders as his massive silhouette filled the doorway. He closed the door behind him, looking at her all the while. She was grateful he hadn't spoken - the Huntsman in the book never did - but the click of the latch seemed to loose something in him, and he all but lunged for her.
"Wait," she said, twisting her shoulder loose from his grasp. "Just - I need you to know, that this is just this once, and then we never talk about it again. Agreed?"
He inclined his head, considering, then gave a nod.
And then the game began in earnest, and she didn't stop him as he grabbed her up and hauled her toward him, his mouth hot on hers and his skin aflame where he placed her hands. He bit at her lip, shoved his hand beneath her blouse and rolled a nipple with his thumb, and oh, she felt herself going, her body finally responding as she needed it to. "Yes," she groaned, and "more," and she protested not at all when he swung her up into his arms and pushed her up against a wall, pinning her with his body.
This, this, her body cried, and she gleefully gave herself over to its hunger and the attentions of her Huntsman.
+
Some months later...
"Belle! Just the woman I was hoping to see!"
Gaston's toothy smile threatened to overwhelm his jaw. Belle only needed a glance to tell her what he'd come for, and then she went right back to perusing the stack of new arrivals at the bookshop. Still, it never hurt to be polite. "Yes, Gaston?"
She saw the movement of his elbow out of the corner of her eye, and imagined him stroking his chin. It was what he did when he was trying to seem thoughtful. "I see you're reading again."
"What a calculated observation," she replied, plucking up a book in order to read its description.
"You know, Belle," he said, as though she hadn't said anything at all, "I like to read. Books. Every now and then, of course, not all the time - think of how poor that would be for my fine physique."
"I'm not interested, Gaston," she said. And when he began to wheedle, she simply repeated that she was not interested, and then ignored him and approached the counter with her purchases. He couldn't continue to beseech her without appearing a right fool in front of the proprietor, but that didn't stop him from following her outside.
"Belle," he said, and she replied, "No."
And when he said, "But," she turned to him in a whirl of her skirts and said, "It was one night, Gaston. End of story. Thank you, and goodbye."
She showed him her back and walked, never once glancing over her shoulder, and sighed. She dearly hoped he would get over this obsession soon. It was becoming annoying.
...How do I even begin? This...this was PERFECT. LIKE, SO BEAUTIFULLY PERFECT I DON'T EVEN. So wonderfully in character and so utterly perfectly suited to the prompt and just wonderfully written. Thank you thank you thank you! Now I can finally get this idea out of my head. <3 THANK YOU~~~~~!
Lefou was too slow to follow, but one of Gaston's eyebrows drew up, and he dismissed Lefou with a supercilious wave. "Belle, Belle," he said, and let the cigar fall. "You never settle for ordinary, do you?"
He was easy, really. She gave him a coy smile. "Why do you think I chose you?"
Gaston winked, and preened.
She said, "My father's going out of town tonight - to the maker's faire." She pushed the book into his hands, watched his eyebrows nearly disappear into his hair at the scandalous image on the cover. "I trust you can read. Pages 341 to 345. If you want to be my Huntsman, come to the front door after sundown."
He came. Belle felt strange admitting him in, a shiver running along her shoulders as his massive silhouette filled the doorway. He closed the door behind him, looking at her all the while. She was grateful he hadn't spoken - the Huntsman in the book never did - but the click of the latch seemed to loose something in him, and he all but lunged for her.
"Wait," she said, twisting her shoulder loose from his grasp. "Just - I need you to know, that this is just this once, and then we never talk about it again. Agreed?"
He inclined his head, considering, then gave a nod.
And then the game began in earnest, and she didn't stop him as he grabbed her up and hauled her toward him, his mouth hot on hers and his skin aflame where he placed her hands. He bit at her lip, shoved his hand beneath her blouse and rolled a nipple with his thumb, and oh, she felt herself going, her body finally responding as she needed it to. "Yes," she groaned, and "more," and she protested not at all when he swung her up into his arms and pushed her up against a wall, pinning her with his body.
This, this, her body cried, and she gleefully gave herself over to its hunger and the attentions of her Huntsman.
+
Some months later...
"Belle! Just the woman I was hoping to see!"
Gaston's toothy smile threatened to overwhelm his jaw. Belle only needed a glance to tell her what he'd come for, and then she went right back to perusing the stack of new arrivals at the bookshop. Still, it never hurt to be polite. "Yes, Gaston?"
She saw the movement of his elbow out of the corner of her eye, and imagined him stroking his chin. It was what he did when he was trying to seem thoughtful. "I see you're reading again."
"What a calculated observation," she replied, plucking up a book in order to read its description.
"You know, Belle," he said, as though she hadn't said anything at all, "I like to read. Books. Every now and then, of course, not all the time - think of how poor that would be for my fine physique."
"I'm not interested, Gaston," she said. And when he began to wheedle, she simply repeated that she was not interested, and then ignored him and approached the counter with her purchases. He couldn't continue to beseech her without appearing a right fool in front of the proprietor, but that didn't stop him from following her outside.
"Belle," he said, and she replied, "No."
And when he said, "But," she turned to him in a whirl of her skirts and said, "It was one night, Gaston. End of story. Thank you, and goodbye."
She showed him her back and walked, never once glancing over her shoulder, and sighed. She dearly hoped he would get over this obsession soon. It was becoming annoying.
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