Fic: Breaking Point (1/2)
Title: Breaking Point (1/2)
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Rating: Teen/R for this chapter; NC-17 overall
Genre: Romance, Humor, PWP
Characters/Pairings: Mr. Gold/Belle, Ruby, Mary Margaret
Spoilers: I suppose for 1.12 Skin Deep
Summary: Belle and Gold are living together as a couple, and they're happy. Except for the fact that he is treating her like some delicate, fragile little flower not to be touched in "that" way. After lots of UST, Belle decides to do something about it
A/N: Based off (yet another) prompt from the OUAT Kink Meme: Belle has been discovered and has been out of the asylum for months now and she and Gold are a couple and living together. Everything is going good except for one thing: Nothing sexual has happened yet. He is treating her like some delicate, fragile little flower not to be touched in "that" way. After lots of ust Belle decides to do something about it. She starts to tease and seduce Mr. Gold until he just can't take it anymore and he has to have her RIGHT NOW.
There was no way I was leaving that one unfulfilled. I will post the whole thing there when I'm done proofing pt2.
A/N 2: The songs used are (briefly) 'King Of Anything' by Sara Barielles, and 'You'll Be Mine' by The Pierces.
---
Belle smoothed her tunic down over her jeans, and pulled on her boots: their floors were always horribly cold first thing in the morning, even in the middle of summer. Unfortunately, her slippers had mysteriously disappeared a few weeks back.
She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew where they went: she was pretty sure a certain Scottish bastard had stolen them after discovering how warm and cosy they were to wear in the middle of a particularly cold night. Luckily for Gold, Belle found the mental image of him wearing her fluffy shoes funny enough to let it go.
She went downstairs from her room into the kitchen, and was unsurprised to find him already showered and fully dressed at the table, reading the Mirror.
He was a morning person. Which fit well, because so was she. He was always right there, in the kitchen, with a mug of tea and the newspaper, in one of his impeccable suits, no matter how early she got up.
"Good morning, Belle. Did you sleep well?" he asked, without looking up.
She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "Mm, okay." she replied, squeezing him in her arms.
'You'd know,' she thought, 'if you let me move out of the guest room.'
She held on, breathing in the fresh, clean smell of his shampoo and the deeper, muskier scent of his skin. She could feel his heart start to beat a little harder, a little faster, and he brought a hand up to hold the two looped over the front of his chest.
She was practically nuzzling into his neck, and all he did was hold her hand.
It was infuriating.
---
She did this every morning.
She came down, chirpy and bright, and hugged him from behind. And usually, when he reached up to grasp her hand, she let go, and they went about their business.
But today, she was holding on a little longer, and he could feel her warmth seeping into his skin, inhale the scent of rose petals wafting from her hair.
Every morning he wished he could be like any other lover, and reach around to pull her into his lap; to kiss her long and hard and make her as breathless and undone as she deserved to be, as he dreamed her almost every night.
But that wasn't how he was going to go about this. He chided himself for his thoughts: Belle was a girl still recovering from God-knew-what, from Regina's 'care', from the transition between the Realms and Storybrooke. And even if she wasn't, she was still Belle. The girl he'd cast out for being innocent, for saying she loved him, for being too good to be true.
Gold had never been a man bent on self-flagellation. But he knew that Belle deserved much better than him, and had convinced himself quite successfully that, by keeping her at arms length, she'd eventually get bored and find someone better for her.
Pure, perfect girls didn't deserve to be trapped with monsters.
But she'd never thought of him as a monster, and that wasn't the look she was giving him now. The look she was giving him now was heated, lustful and loving all at once.
Then she broke away, and sank into her seat next to him as if nothing had happened.
It was frustrating, but there was nothing he could do.
---
"Maybe he's gay." Ruby, never one to sugar-coat things, leaned over the counter and looked sympathetically at her friend.
"He's not gay." Belle laughed, and took another long sip of her coffee, "Trust me."
"I don't know," Mary Margaret pitched in, doubtfully, "I've lived here my whole life and never heard of him going on a date, let alone having a girlfriend."
"Guys!" Belle silenced her friends, "Just trust me, I live with the man."
"Well that's exactly my point," Ruby caught Granny frowning at her from the door to the kitchen, and started earnestly scrubbing the countertop, "He's a guy who doesn't seem to have gotten any action in at least a quarter century, living with a gorgeous woman who's totally into him, and he hasn't tried anything. It's weird."
"I think it's romantic." Mary Margaret smiled at Belle; "He's not pushing anything, letting you set the pace."
"I can't set the pace if he's not willing to follow."
"Who says?" Ruby straightened up, her Female Empowerment face in full force, "Come on, if he's not willing to get things moving, maybe it's time to take matters into your own dainty little hands."
"Oh come on," Belle laughed, "I wouldn't even know where to start."
Ruby raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "Belle, you work at the library five days a week. This might be Storybrooke but even we have Harlequin romances."
Mary Margaret was nodding, enthusiastically, "Yeah, they're at the back behind the gardening section, but you need the red ones, not the blue, because… never mind." She trailed off at Ruby's surprised stare, and took a long drink of her hot chocolate to hide her embarrassment.
"While that's information we will so be discussing later," Ruby smirked at Mary Margaret, who refused to look at her, "I think you have some reading to do."
Belle nodded, paid for her coffee, and headed quickly for the library.
---
That evening, when Gold got home from his shop, he could hear singing coming from the back. A divine smell - some kind of pasta sauce, he guessed - was wafting through the house.
He had to laugh when he got to the kitchen and found Belle, leaning over the stove, singing loudly along to the radio.
"Who died and made you KING OF ANYTHING?" she sang, hitting maybe every third note, dancing around.
"Very tuneful, love." He smirked, and expected her face to slip into an annoyed frown and perhaps a dishcloth to collide with his arm.
Instead, she just grinned at him, and came around the table to greet him.
The table cloth had obscured his view of anything below her waist: the clingy red dress she'd put on was a far cry from her conservative jeans and tunic this morning, and showed almost every inch of her long, toned legs.
He felt his mouth go dry, and covered his surprise with a wider smile, "What're you cooking?"
"Dinner." she answered, and took his hands in hers, "Come on, dance with me."
He laughed, "I can't, love." He gestured to his cane, and hoped she'd drop the idea.
"Nonsense," she had that determined look that made him nervous, "Come on, we can go very slowly," she breathed this last as she pulled him closer to her, putting his hand on her waist and the other in her own, her lips now very close to his ear. "Now, just sway with me," a slower song had come on the radio, something hypnotic and romantic.
We could watch the black birds cross the skies
We could count the leaves left on the trees
We could count the teardrops in our eyes
One two three yeah one two three
Gods, she was so close. To help him keep his balance, she'd pulled them so close together that he could feel her breasts pressing against his chest, feel her heartbeat racing through that thin, clingy dress.
Now you know now you know
How I feel and I won't back down
They swayed around the kitchen for what seemed like an eternity, as he lost himself in the feeling of her in his arms, so soft and warm and alive.
But there are so many things to doubt
One two three count one two three
Her eyes were deep and blue, and for a long second they stared into his with a look so deep, so warm and dark, that he wanted to just stay that way forever.
His hand had strayed down a little from its safe position on her waist, and he was now cupping the curve of her hip in his hand. 'It would be so easy,' he thought, 'to just lean down and kiss her.'
'To hoist her up by her hips; to lay her bare and have my way with her, right there on the kitchen table.'
Her smile widened, and for just a moment he was ready to do just that, his control stretched to its limits.
Drop of blood and now you're taken
For all time
With a kiss you will awaken
And you'll be mine
And then, the song ended, and she leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips - the greatest concession he'd allowed himself from his No-Touching-Belle rule in the months since she'd moved in - and broke away, "I need to keep cooking."
She spun away from him, and he swore he heard her giggle as she went back to stirring the sauce.
---
Belle had fun at dinner.
The meal was simple, just spaghetti and tomato sauce, but she didn't really notice the taste.
She was too busy leaning forward as they talked, giving him the best view possible down the deep V-neck of her dress without looking like she was trying too hard.
She'd been a little nervous when she'd tried it on at Ruby's: it was so much more revealing than anything she usually wore, and she was afraid of his reaction.
That had changed when he'd stopped dead at the sight of her.
Oh, Mr Gold was definitely not gay.
She inched over in her seat a little, just so that their legs were brushing under the table. She didn't look at him as she did it, the picture of innocence twirling her spaghetti, but she noticed the way he swallowed, hard, and went tense all over.
"So, how was work?" she asked, conversationally, hiding her smirk.
"Fairly predictable," he replied, his voice a little lower and huskier than usual. The new tone, mixed with that Scottish accent she'd always loved, affected her more than she'd care to admit. "How about you, dear?"
"Oh," she genuinely blushed, thinking of how she'd spent her day; "It was very… interesting."
"Oh?" that got his attention, and he looked up from his food, where his eyes had been carefully focused since he'd caught himself staring down the front of her dress, "In what way?"
"Well, the A/C broke again, and it was so hot today," she sighed, "I had to hide in the back where it was cooler."
"Yes, it was very warm."
"I think I need to go shopping soon: all my clothes are too heavy. I had to borrow this dress from Ruby, what do you think?" By this point, she knew she was just being cruel, but he didn't seem to mind too much. She stood up and put her hands on her hips, "Is it too big? Ruby's taller than I am."
She watched his eyes flick from her face down over her body, lingering in all the right places.
He cleared his throat, "No, it looks… perfect." His expression turned to something almost distressingly dark and carnal, like he was a beast about to devour her.
She shivered, and sat back down. She'd hoped to prompt him into action: she hadn't expected his reaction to affect her so much.
"Thanks." She beamed, "I hope it's cooler tomorrow. I had to come home early to change clothes - this is the first day I've been here that the shortage of hot water has been a good thing. Coming home today and having a long, cold shower was just heaven."
Now she was just stealing passages out of those romance novels her friends had recommended. They seemed to be having the desired effect, though. She stretched out a hand and placed it on his forearm, smiling up at him.
"I bet it was." He was smiling back, and it was almost a smirk. They'd leaned in, so their faces were so close she could feel his breath on her skin.
"Even now," she continued, low and breathy, going in for the kill, "I'm a little too warm in here. This house is usually so cold but lately…" she sighed, and they stayed that way for a moment, just staring at each other.
"What are you doing?" he asked, matching her tone.
"You're so cold all the time, Gold," she looked into his eyes, "You need to let me warm you up."
She saw the moment he broke; the second his control snapped. He grabbed her, one hand threading into her hair as he hauled her against him, his mouth crashing against hers.
She moaned in response, her own hands coming to grip the sides of his head, holding on for dear life.
He kissed her harder than ever before, with such passion she felt her bones melt, her skin suddenly too hot and tight. He allowed no room for her to reciprocate: he plundered her mouth, tongue sweeping into every corner, every crevice, battling her own tongue into submission.
He stood and dragged her with him, unwilling to let her go for a second, and gasped as he pressed her against the table, his weight holding her in position.
'Well,' she thought, 'I guess it worked.'
---
Having essentially said fuck it to all notion of control, Gold allowed himself everything he'd been denying them both for the last six months.
The hand that wasn't looped in the curls of her hair roamed down over her body, exploring those delectable curves that were so beautifully flaunted in that tiny dress. He rubbed her breast through the material until she gasped against his mouth, and he swallowed it down as his reward. He ran a hand down over the swell of her ass and held her even closer against him, aligning every inch of her body with his.
He finally broke their kiss, surfacing for breath, and looked down at her face. Her eyes were dazed, her lips red and swollen from his kisses, and he allowed himself a wicked smirk of satisfaction at his work.
He thought for a moment about indulging his earlier fantasy of fucking her on the table, of stripping that dress right off of her and laying her out like the most delicious meal he'd ever seen, ready to be devoured.
But then it would be over far too quickly.
Her eyes had fluttered open, and she saw the evil smile that had taken over his face. She looked a little frightened, but the way she shivered and bucked into him told a different story.
She'd been torturing him all evening: now, it was time for a little payback.
Part Two