Beauty and the Beast: Human Again (PG-13)
Summary: In which Belle and the (former) Beast discuss responsibilities, kissing, and knowing what you want.
Notes: Originally, this was going to be a straightforward Belle/Beast springkink story. Then I started thinking about what it must be like to be in a different body after so many years, and the fact that Disney's version of the story implies (intentionally or not) that the prince hadn't even hit puberty yet when he was transformed. (Sadly, the result no longer really fit the prompt. Oh well.) All thanks to thesilentpoet and sylverice2 for beta-reading.
HUMAN AGAIN
*
After returning to his human form, it was the simple things that kept delighting the former Beast. Drinking out of glasses, not oversized mugs. Hunting with bow and arrow, not with claws and raw strength. Eating without either getting food all over himself, or feeling like he was going to drop the fork and spoon any second.
He felt a bit guilty that reading didn't make the list. The library was a legacy, not a personal collection. But Belle made up for it: after the first few days, when neither of them was willing to let the other one out of their sight for more than a minute, she retreated to the library, and began the apparent attempt to read every single book in it. It was rather reassuring, actually. Whenever he didn't know where she was, he looked in the library, and found her.
He didn't have the chance to go looking as often as he would've liked. He was, after all, a prince, with all the responsibilities that implied. He spent half his time with notifications, and negotiations, and the stubborn slowness of little men with little quills and not-at-all little piles of papers, as they tried to work out how to re-create the rest of what the sorceress had taken when she had ripped away his human form. He loved Belle, a great looming occasionally terrifying love, and he was going to marry her. But mostly that wedding got buried as still another responsibility in the pile.
"Can I hide in here?"
Belle looked up from whatever book she was reading, with a wry grin. "You can try. But they know about this place."
"Who's 'they'?" He settled in on the floor by her feet, resting his head against her knee.
"A lot of people," Belle said, with a ripple of laughter in her voice. "I'm supposed to get fitted for all sorts of gowns, which mostly involves me standing still so I won't get stuck with pins, while everyone talks around me. I'm learning how to run the household --"
"I thought Mrs. Potts did that?"
"She does," Belle assured him. She was absently running her fingers through his hair, and she tugged at it gently as if to scold him for his confusion. "But I'm supposed to give her orders, and it's a lot more work than just keeping house for my father. Especially my father."
"Mmm." He hadn't seen the house in question, but from what he'd seen of Maurice, the man simply wouldn't notice if Belle burned supper or failed to sweep the steps. He could well believe that keeping house for such a man was a much simpler task than running an entire castle.
"And then I'm supposed to make all sorts of decisions about the wedding, so you won't have to. But that means answering questions that I've never even thought about, and..." She hesitated, shook her head, and blew out her breath in a huff.
"I thought girls dreamed about weddings."
"I dreamed about going out and exploring the world. Attending university in Paris, perhaps."
"Then you should."
"I'm not going away again," Belle said, with a sharper tug at his hair.
"You'd come back," he said, and nuzzled at her.
To his surprise, she jumped, and a laugh escaped her. "I'm sorry," she said immediately. "It's just that -- "
"Yes. Well." It wasn't even exactly habit. The Beast had been too large to nuzzle at people, and too desperate to cling to what little remained of his dignity to make the attempt in any case. He shifted up to sit on the couch next to her, more like a human. "I'm sorry too. I hadn't thought --"
Belle waited until he'd given up trying to find words for what he hadn't thought, and then said gently, "How long were you a Beast?"
"I'm not sure," he said, looking down at his hands -- human hands, with no fur or claws. "It wasn't long enough that I should have forgotten everything. And being able to do some things is wonderful. It's just that other things..."
"I noticed," Belle said dryly.
"No! Well, that too." He tried very hard not to turn red at the memory of some of those days. "It's..." He rubbed the back of his head, and for the first time found himself missing being the Beast. Nobody expected the Beast to be able to say these things, not even himself. Especially not himself. "It's, well...other things."
"You just said that."
"It's..." This was Belle. He should just be able to tell her. "When I was turned back, I kissed you."
Belle made an encouraging noise.
"And it was wonderful! But I'm not sure how to do it again. At least I knew the Beast's instincts. These instincts --" He waved one hand down at himself to indicated his human body. "-- I don't."
"People have managed wedding nights before," Belle said, remarkably calmly. To his relief, he could see she was blushing as well.
It wasn't so much the wedding night, as the day-to-day business of being married, and being in love, and showing it without nuzzling her like a bea - like a dog. But now that she had mentioned the wedding night, the thought loomed up in his mind. "I'm tired of being awkward," he grumbled.
That made her laugh again, which wasn't exactly what he'd wanted, but he'd settle for it. "I haven't found any book that talks about that kind of thing in detail. But if you want practice kissing..."
"Belle?"
She looked down at her hands, then up at him -- not through her lashes or flirtatious, but with a rueful smile. "It was easy when you turned back. I didn't have to think. It was just...you were there, and alive, and you."
"Belle..."
"And this time --" She waved one hand vaguely toward the door. "This time there's time to think about it, and people watching, and --"
"Practice," he said, a little desperately, then when she looked back at him again, "We should practice."
"All right," she said, closed up the book that had still been sitting open on her lap, and set it aside. Then she looked up at him, and he realized that she expected him to take the lead.
He had a moment of utter panic, then took a deep breath. This was what he'd wanted, after all -- the chance to practice, the chance to learn about this human body. Belle knew that.
The first kiss wasn't a success. Neither of them were sure how to angle their heads, or how much pressure was too much. They bumped noses rather hard, and he wound up accidentally biting Belle's lip. The second kiss was better, and the third one -- the third one reminded him of that kiss after he'd turned back, Belle's lips soft and sweet and kissing him back.
Then she broke it off, shaking. The panic returned, then flattened into a different sort of worry as he realized she was giggling. "Belle?"
"I'm sorry," she said, not really succeeding in an attempt to look solemn again. "It's just so different."
"Different from what?"
"From before." She kissed the tip of his nose, which only added to his confusion, especially when he realized she was blushing. "I thought about it, before I left. About kissing you. It's just very different."
He reached up and felt at his jaw thoughtfully. No fangs, no fur...he'd never thought about kissing her, not as the Beast. He'd thought about other things, once or twice -- about things that might happen if Belle chose to stay, private things between the two of them -- but those weren't the kind of things you admitted. Were they? Before he could lose his nerve, he asked, "Just about kissing?"
Belle's eyes dropped, then raised again to look back at him. She had thought about him like that, he realized, with a swooping, giddy sort of feeling in his belly. Maybe she hadn't known the details, but she'd wondered. He took her hand in one of his, and kissed her fingers. "What did you imagine?" he whispered.
She turned her hand in his, and pulled him forward gently so she could kiss him again --
Thock thock thock.
Damn. They'd found him. "Belle?"
"I'll tell you later," she said, letting go.
He glanced at the door, then over at the shelves. If there was a book there about more than kissing, Belle would be able to find it. "I'll look forward to it," he said, and headed for the door. He paused just before opening it to look back. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Belle said, and turned back to the shelves.
He opened the door and slipped out to meet his doom.
He got quite the lecture on how he had work to do, and shouldn't just sneak off, and pay attention! He nodded every so often, and tried to look dutifully attentive, and didn't let himself think about whether Belle had found a book that was about more than just kissing.
And perhaps, before the wedding night...perhaps he'd lock his door, and take the time to figure out his own body, before he had to figure out hers. Kissing had been complicated enough. He didn't want to leave this to just stumbling through.
-end-
Notes: Originally, this was going to be a straightforward Belle/Beast springkink story. Then I started thinking about what it must be like to be in a different body after so many years, and the fact that Disney's version of the story implies (intentionally or not) that the prince hadn't even hit puberty yet when he was transformed. (Sadly, the result no longer really fit the prompt. Oh well.) All thanks to thesilentpoet and sylverice2 for beta-reading.
HUMAN AGAIN
*
After returning to his human form, it was the simple things that kept delighting the former Beast. Drinking out of glasses, not oversized mugs. Hunting with bow and arrow, not with claws and raw strength. Eating without either getting food all over himself, or feeling like he was going to drop the fork and spoon any second.
He felt a bit guilty that reading didn't make the list. The library was a legacy, not a personal collection. But Belle made up for it: after the first few days, when neither of them was willing to let the other one out of their sight for more than a minute, she retreated to the library, and began the apparent attempt to read every single book in it. It was rather reassuring, actually. Whenever he didn't know where she was, he looked in the library, and found her.
He didn't have the chance to go looking as often as he would've liked. He was, after all, a prince, with all the responsibilities that implied. He spent half his time with notifications, and negotiations, and the stubborn slowness of little men with little quills and not-at-all little piles of papers, as they tried to work out how to re-create the rest of what the sorceress had taken when she had ripped away his human form. He loved Belle, a great looming occasionally terrifying love, and he was going to marry her. But mostly that wedding got buried as still another responsibility in the pile.
"Can I hide in here?"
Belle looked up from whatever book she was reading, with a wry grin. "You can try. But they know about this place."
"Who's 'they'?" He settled in on the floor by her feet, resting his head against her knee.
"A lot of people," Belle said, with a ripple of laughter in her voice. "I'm supposed to get fitted for all sorts of gowns, which mostly involves me standing still so I won't get stuck with pins, while everyone talks around me. I'm learning how to run the household --"
"I thought Mrs. Potts did that?"
"She does," Belle assured him. She was absently running her fingers through his hair, and she tugged at it gently as if to scold him for his confusion. "But I'm supposed to give her orders, and it's a lot more work than just keeping house for my father. Especially my father."
"Mmm." He hadn't seen the house in question, but from what he'd seen of Maurice, the man simply wouldn't notice if Belle burned supper or failed to sweep the steps. He could well believe that keeping house for such a man was a much simpler task than running an entire castle.
"And then I'm supposed to make all sorts of decisions about the wedding, so you won't have to. But that means answering questions that I've never even thought about, and..." She hesitated, shook her head, and blew out her breath in a huff.
"I thought girls dreamed about weddings."
"I dreamed about going out and exploring the world. Attending university in Paris, perhaps."
"Then you should."
"I'm not going away again," Belle said, with a sharper tug at his hair.
"You'd come back," he said, and nuzzled at her.
To his surprise, she jumped, and a laugh escaped her. "I'm sorry," she said immediately. "It's just that -- "
"Yes. Well." It wasn't even exactly habit. The Beast had been too large to nuzzle at people, and too desperate to cling to what little remained of his dignity to make the attempt in any case. He shifted up to sit on the couch next to her, more like a human. "I'm sorry too. I hadn't thought --"
Belle waited until he'd given up trying to find words for what he hadn't thought, and then said gently, "How long were you a Beast?"
"I'm not sure," he said, looking down at his hands -- human hands, with no fur or claws. "It wasn't long enough that I should have forgotten everything. And being able to do some things is wonderful. It's just that other things..."
"I noticed," Belle said dryly.
"No! Well, that too." He tried very hard not to turn red at the memory of some of those days. "It's..." He rubbed the back of his head, and for the first time found himself missing being the Beast. Nobody expected the Beast to be able to say these things, not even himself. Especially not himself. "It's, well...other things."
"You just said that."
"It's..." This was Belle. He should just be able to tell her. "When I was turned back, I kissed you."
Belle made an encouraging noise.
"And it was wonderful! But I'm not sure how to do it again. At least I knew the Beast's instincts. These instincts --" He waved one hand down at himself to indicated his human body. "-- I don't."
"People have managed wedding nights before," Belle said, remarkably calmly. To his relief, he could see she was blushing as well.
It wasn't so much the wedding night, as the day-to-day business of being married, and being in love, and showing it without nuzzling her like a bea - like a dog. But now that she had mentioned the wedding night, the thought loomed up in his mind. "I'm tired of being awkward," he grumbled.
That made her laugh again, which wasn't exactly what he'd wanted, but he'd settle for it. "I haven't found any book that talks about that kind of thing in detail. But if you want practice kissing..."
"Belle?"
She looked down at her hands, then up at him -- not through her lashes or flirtatious, but with a rueful smile. "It was easy when you turned back. I didn't have to think. It was just...you were there, and alive, and you."
"Belle..."
"And this time --" She waved one hand vaguely toward the door. "This time there's time to think about it, and people watching, and --"
"Practice," he said, a little desperately, then when she looked back at him again, "We should practice."
"All right," she said, closed up the book that had still been sitting open on her lap, and set it aside. Then she looked up at him, and he realized that she expected him to take the lead.
He had a moment of utter panic, then took a deep breath. This was what he'd wanted, after all -- the chance to practice, the chance to learn about this human body. Belle knew that.
The first kiss wasn't a success. Neither of them were sure how to angle their heads, or how much pressure was too much. They bumped noses rather hard, and he wound up accidentally biting Belle's lip. The second kiss was better, and the third one -- the third one reminded him of that kiss after he'd turned back, Belle's lips soft and sweet and kissing him back.
Then she broke it off, shaking. The panic returned, then flattened into a different sort of worry as he realized she was giggling. "Belle?"
"I'm sorry," she said, not really succeeding in an attempt to look solemn again. "It's just so different."
"Different from what?"
"From before." She kissed the tip of his nose, which only added to his confusion, especially when he realized she was blushing. "I thought about it, before I left. About kissing you. It's just very different."
He reached up and felt at his jaw thoughtfully. No fangs, no fur...he'd never thought about kissing her, not as the Beast. He'd thought about other things, once or twice -- about things that might happen if Belle chose to stay, private things between the two of them -- but those weren't the kind of things you admitted. Were they? Before he could lose his nerve, he asked, "Just about kissing?"
Belle's eyes dropped, then raised again to look back at him. She had thought about him like that, he realized, with a swooping, giddy sort of feeling in his belly. Maybe she hadn't known the details, but she'd wondered. He took her hand in one of his, and kissed her fingers. "What did you imagine?" he whispered.
She turned her hand in his, and pulled him forward gently so she could kiss him again --
Thock thock thock.
Damn. They'd found him. "Belle?"
"I'll tell you later," she said, letting go.
He glanced at the door, then over at the shelves. If there was a book there about more than kissing, Belle would be able to find it. "I'll look forward to it," he said, and headed for the door. He paused just before opening it to look back. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Belle said, and turned back to the shelves.
He opened the door and slipped out to meet his doom.
He got quite the lecture on how he had work to do, and shouldn't just sneak off, and pay attention! He nodded every so often, and tried to look dutifully attentive, and didn't let himself think about whether Belle had found a book that was about more than just kissing.
And perhaps, before the wedding night...perhaps he'd lock his door, and take the time to figure out his own body, before he had to figure out hers. Kissing had been complicated enough. He didn't want to leave this to just stumbling through.
-end-