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Once Upon A Time	By : Madame_Lazla Category: +1 through F > Beauty and the Beast (Disney) > Beauty and the Beast (Disney) Views: 11063 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, nor do I own any of the characters in it. I only own the pervertedness. In conjunction, this is a work of pleasure - I make no money from it

Chapter List
- 11
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- 13
Once Upon A Time…There Was A Wondrous Ball
A/N: The clothing in this chapter is very different from the garb the characters wear in the final scene of the movie – this is for the sake of originality and because I reckon that rich, fancy people should have more than one formal ensemble. ^^
“So I’m thinking about going back home,” Gaston added nonchalantly, chewing on a bit of dried deer as he squinted at the pages of the heavy volume in front of him. At the very least, he would have seemed nonchalant if his posture was not so rigid and his voice slightly stilted.
Adam twitched, head snapping up and blinking long enough to splutter a graceful: “Huh?”
Gaston did not look up from the tome he was staring at, “I think I’m good enough to go home soon.”
Adam blinked some more. “When were you thinking of - ?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh,” the blond tried schooling his expressions, failing and subsequently taking interest in his reading. Plato. A favourite, but not his absolute; no, he kept that book far enough away since he and Gaston had argued about it. He was not going to get rid of it, but he did not want another disagreement. Gaston had stopped touching him since then. He no longer complained about Mrs Potts and her mothering and didn’t walk around shirtless when he could get away with it. He hardly spoke and had the most bizarre expression on his face. Stranger still was how he been spending the last few weeks reading in the library.
“I didn’t know you could read,” Adam watched the hunter start slightly from his place near the door. The candlelight cast shadows on the man’s coal-black locks and the brown band that tied them up.
Gaston did not look up from his book before snapping, “Don’t assume I’m an idiot because I have better things to do with my life than stare at paper.”
Adam cringed. This was not how he was hoping their first encounter since Belle’s book would go. “I didn’t mean it like that, chérie.”
The other man turned his head slightly, using his peripheral vision to size Adam up. “Whatever,” he shrugged and went back to reading.
Adam found a chair and sat opposite him, staring at him hard. The man looked strange, pensive as he turned the pages. It was very unlike Gaston. It terrified the prince.
“Where did you learn to read so well?” Adam hesitantly after a few awkward minutes of staring.
Gaston rolled his eyes and emphatically turned a page. “I’m not just great looks, you know.”
Adam swallowed hard. “I know,” he said softly.
Gaston sighed loudly and continued reading. Adam shifted about uncomfortably, leaning over the table and grabbing the nearest book.
Gaston said nothing. He hardly acknowledged Adam’s existence. But for the 4 hours they sat together, not once did he chase Adam away.
Adam allowed his eyes to flicker upwards. Through ash-blonde eyelashes he surveyed the raven-head. Surely an encyclopaedia was not that interesting. And was he thinking? The look did not become him.
Is this not what he wanted? Adam had spent near a year harping on about wanting Gaston out of his life – now he was getting his wish. Shouldn’t that in itself brighten his mood? He was getting rid of a pompous, arrogant, psychopathic tyrant without getting his hands dirty. His body would heal completely and his days could be spent in peaceful contemplation without babysitting anyone. He would forget about this unsightly attraction and move on with his life.
This is exactly what he wanted.
***
Two days later and Adam was miserable. Missing the psychopath should not be this hard. The castle was too quiet and the prince’s faithful servants were getting increasingly agitated at his pestering for attention. More than once he had to be detained by Cogsworth and Lumière to stop him from bounding into town and kidnapping the hunter. Meanwhile, Gaston must have been receiving a 12-star welcome, wenches abound and beer fountains as far as the eye can see. Just the thought of those loose, filthy women touching the mere air around what Adam now shamelessly considered his… it was enough to make him murderous.
Which is why, after two of the longest days in his existence, he couldn’t contain the whoop of pure elation when he saw the demented black stallion galloping in the general direction of his abode. The long, charcoal hair that rippled as the horse moved ever closer inspired Adam to launch himself over the balcony to get downstairs faster. He made do with sprinting down the hallways and sliding down the banister. Yanking the door open, he could barely hide the grin that formed when he was met with the figure in front of him.
“Back so soon?”
“The idiots! The tyrants! The scumbags! How DARE they!?!” Gaston brushed past Adam, ranting as he stomped up the stairs. Adam signed for someone to attend to the horse before following his houseguest.
“Please, make yourself at home,” Adam muttered, mildly entertained. He would normally have a fit at the audacity of the oaf – would even insist that the hunter leave for home at once. Now, the prince wanted nothing more than to bolt the door shut and keep the man with him forever.
Gaston was in the library, pacing as he ranted. Adam took the seat nearest to him, letting his eyes wonder over the body he never thought he’d see again. Even if the expressive face was flushed with what seemed to be rage.
“Who do they think they are!? They’ve tangoed with the wrong man! No one does this to Gaston and lives!”
“So, how was home?”
Gaston stopped, not far off, glaring hard, “How do you THINK it went!? Horribly, terribly, horrifically! Gastronomically apocalyptic!”
Reading had certainly had an effect on Gaston’s vocabulary – it was a bit of a turn-on. Shoving that aside before he lost all composure and devoured the man, Adam frowned. “What happened?”
“I was tossed aside, that’s what happened!” Gaston’s deep voice all but spat, “Jeered! Rejected! Publicly humiliated! Why, it’s more than I can bear!” The large man collapsed into a chair near the prince, head bent and running his hands frustratedly through his hair. Adam watched this action with furrowed brows.
“But how is that possible? You’re a town hero!”
Gaston’s laugh was hollow, “The bastards thought I was dead, you believe that? What’s more, they were happy about it. They were better off without me! I ride into town and they act like I’m Satan or something! I was only trying to save them all!”
“By killing me?”
“Oh shut up,” Gaston snapped listlessly. He sighed deeply, cradling his skull. He sat motionless, almost as if he weren’t moving. Adam leaned forward, debating whether he should touch the downtrodden man.
“Gaston?”
“Le Fou wouldn’t even look me in the eye.”
Adam halted, shocked stiff. The once-proud voice sounded so small and vulnerable and Adam understood. Gaston had been a town legend – he was accustomed to unconditional praise and worship. Adam knew how Gaston thrived on adoration, how it was the only way he found worth in himself. It must have killed the man, banished from the only home he had ever known; rejected by the only friend who would ever have him.
Overpowered by the sudden need to comfort him, Adam lifted himself out of his chair and propped himself on his haunches before Gaston. The hunter had still not moved from his resigned stance, his breathing barely registering. Adam wrapped his arms around the lumped shoulders and pressed his cheek against the hollow one. He could feel the other stiffen, but the blond just tightened his grip. He turned his face sideways, nestling his nose into the small black tendrils that coiled around the hunter’s ear. He nuzzled until, at last, Gaston relaxed against him. He placed a lingering, chaste kiss on the man’s temple before pulling back.
“What do they know anyway? They’re hicks, the whole lot of them! They aren’t worthy of you!” Gaston still hadn’t lifted his head, but his posture was less rigid, and he seemed to be listening. Adam needed to cheer him up before the brute did something stupid, like cry. Gaston needed more than just a place to stay – he needed a home to belong to.
The boy has nowhere else to go and the place certainly is big enough…
But could he ask? What would the implications of that be? The pair had been swanning around each other for the longest time, but inviting him to live in the castle…that was another story. It would be making something uncomfortably concrete and, one day or another, Adam would force himself on Gaston and not stop. But he couldn’t just toss the man asunder, which was about the time a wonderful idea found its way into Adam’s mind.
“Let’s have a ball.”
Gaston perked his head up, face scrunched and red-eyed, “Huh?”
Adam resisted the urge to roll his eyes, getting excited as the plan fleshed out in his conscious, “You’re rejected, homeless, alone and unwanted.”
“Do you have a deathwish!?”
“But you were destined for greater things, chérie! And what better way to realise your true potential than with a ball? Why haven’t I thought of this before; it’s a brilliant idea!”
Gaston cocked his head to the side, still quite confused, “Does every royal idiot in the world think a party can solve everything, or is it just you?”
“Gaston, my love, you are the idiot. Don’t you see? A ball would require guests, and guests of the right caliber come from far and wide. Think of it, chérie – foreign, rich dignitaries and royalties, all there for you.”
Gaston’s confusion cleared; his face the familiar level of haughtiness. “I charm them with my natural good looks and sharp wit – ”
“Sharp?”
“They’ll offer me big important positions in court and I’ll be far away from France living happily ever after!”
Adam sniggered, earning a sharp glare and sharp push from the other. “Think I’m funny, Beast? I’ll prove to you that no one laughs at Gaston!”
From his new position on the floor, he prince watched the hunter proudly stride out the library, nose sky-high. Gaston’s emotions oscillated at a ridiculous rate. But, at the very least, he was happy – just how Adam liked him.
***
The light from the chandeliers gave the reception hall a golden glow of warmth. The large windows, which lined the walls, showed a picturesque forest bathed in the white snow. There were bands and laughter and beautiful painted faces in bilious dresses and tailcoats of bright colours. It was a wondrous winter ball like no other.
Genuinely smiling at no one in particular, Adam let his eyes wander over the splendor that lay before him. To his left, he saw Cogsworth in a very engaging one-sided conversation with an ambassador. To his right, Lumière and Babette were dressed to the nines, twirling circles that made nearby couples envious. A porcelain-doll of a princess in a mock wedding dress was teaching Chip to dance. Even the dog had a blue ribbon around his neck, eagerly staring at the attractive dancing people with his tongue lolled to the side. They all deserved this, every single servant in the castle did – they had worked tirelessly to make this a success.
He felt a soft arm bump into his and smiled at Mrs Potts. Her nightcap was traded for a tight bun, her apron traded for a simple muslin overskirt of powder blue. She smiled up at him.
“Awful nice of you to give us the night off, Master.”
“If it weren’t for you all, none of this would have happened,” he used a gloved hand to gesture about him. The small English nursemaid him a once over, taking in his gold tights, pure white tailcoat with gold trimmings. His calf-length boots shone like a reflected surface and his hair was tied with the newest ribbon in his collection.
“My, but aren’t you looking the part. Trying to impress someone special?” she asked slyly, thin lips cocked to the side.
“Can’t possibly know what you mean,” Adam resisted the urge to blush. He had spent the evening dressing, wondering if Gaston would impressed. Not that he’d admit to it, but the prince had felt slightly insecure – he had to make sure that, out of all the good-looking men and women, Gaston had eyes only for him.
Mrs Potts only hummed her assent, nodding her head. Adam laid a hand out to her, handling her small soft hands with care as he led her to dance. They moved gracefully, idly chatting as they stepped in careful circles. They chuckled and chortled until Mrs Potts’ feet needed a rest and Adam led her to a recliner.
“Not as young as I used to be!” Mrs Potts fanned her face as she put her small feet up. Her face was flushed.
“Will you be alright?” Adam asked, afraid he may have overexerted her. She gazed at him over her spectacles, “I could ask the same of you, dear.”
“What do you…”
“He’s leaving, you know. Over the hills and far away,” Mrs Potts said, making Adam freeze, if only for a second.
He recovered fast though, “I know, Mrs Potts. That’s what the ball is for.”
“No you don’t know. You lose him now, you’ll lose him forever,” Mrs Potts jerked her head towards the door, “He belongs here and you know it.”
Adam followed her indication and felt the breath leave his very body. For, at the entrance of the hall, stood the most enchanting sight he had ever laid eyes on. A tall, powerful creature, thick black hair tied fashionably behind broad shoulders clothed in a black velvet overcoat with red trimming. The tights clinging to the delicious thighs were the colour of scarlet and the boots were thigh-high. Everything about Gaston spoke volumes of sensuous command and Adam was sure he was not the only person left panting with pure desire.
The cold eyes scanned over the room, his face as hardened and stoic as ever. It suddenly broke into one of the most charming smiles Adam had never seen as the hunter flitted from person to person.
***
Females simpered; males grinned foolishly and there was dancing. No one could get enough of Gaston and Gaston revelled in it. He was in his element – making people adore him. Doubtless he already had offers from other royal courts; many prospective lovers dying for a night, if not a lifetime, with him. It made Adam sick.
He spent a significant amount of time playing the gracious host, charming and networking effortlessly. However, his eyes watched every one of Gaston’s calculated moves, smiled at as many people and made sure he danced near Gaston. The prince knew he was being petty, but he couldn’t care less – at the very least he would make sure that Gaston went to a proper home.
A particularly zealous dance with a particularly zealous countess left Adam resting against the wall, catching his breath. He closed his eyes and focused on the hum of his blood in his ears, unable to immediately notice the owner of the hands that yanked him closer.
“Dance with me,” came the sinful tenor.
Adam’s eyes snapped open the same time a smile cocked his lips. He let the strong, stiff body pull him to the centre of the hall and wrap itself around it. The music changed, the tempo shifted to something quicker. Cobalt and ice locked, Adam welcoming the feeling of ice washing over him as they began to dance.
Their movements were fast and furious, clearing a circle around them as people gazed in awe. A tango between the devil and an angel, some whispered. Two beauteous creatures fit for kings, others gasped. But none of that mattered to Adam – he was far too caught up in Gaston, fighting for dominance whilst keeping his lust in check. Gaston gave a predatory smile and something in Adam clicked.
He was in love with Gaston. Mad, passionate, irate love for the man who had killed him, only to bring him back to life when he needed it most. It was he could do to stop himself from clinging tighter to the body and crashing his lips against the hunter’s. And for a moment, one crazy moment, it seemed as if Gaston felt the same.
The song ended, almost abruptly, and the spell was broken. Adam didn’t even realise he was out of breath until the light-headedness kicked in. The crowd applauded; inspired by the show they were given. A new piece was played and the floor was awash with skirts and boots in motion – the attention shifted from the two heaving, flushed men who were staring at each other as if they had never met before.
“What’s your name?” Gaston wheezed between words.
“Pardon?”
Gaston grabbed at the prince’s gloved hand, tugging him out the hall. Sounds from the ball spilled into the empty corridor, but at the very least they were alone. The blond felt the deepest and darkest of palpitations at this revelation, aware of how Gaston still held his hand. Very, painfully aware at how Gaston was looking at him.
“I never got your name, you know.”
Adam shifted his hands, surprised. It only occurred to him now: Gaston had called him Beast or addressed him directly, but never once had Adam actually told the man his name. It had never seemed important and the prince had naturally assumed the hunter knew. Asking this question now, at this point, seemed dreadfully intimate. Gaston noticed the unsteady hands and proceeded to lace his fingers between the blonde’s, his thumb rubbing the skin almost absentmindedly.
“It’s Adam.”
“Adam?”
The name sounded worse hanging off Gaston’s lips. Adam would have assumed that having Gaston use his first name would have been more sensual, but he found that he didn’t like Gaston using that name at all.
Gaston seemed to agree, for he gave a snort, “It’s a dumb name.”
“How romantic, really you know just what to say,” Adam retorted listlessly, “Just call me Beast then, you buffoon.”
“Does anyone else call you that?” Gaston ventured, bringing a hand to finger the golden curls gently.
“Beast? No, just you,” Adam leant to the touch, lips brushing against the wrist. He smelt like cologne, nulling his senses.
“Good.”
Pain shot up Adam’s spine as his back connected forcefully with the wall. He winced slightly, registering the hand linked with Gaston’s was forced above his head. Gaston was so close to him that Adam could spy every pore. The hunter’s lips lay gingerly on the prince’s cheek. The silence around them gave the situation a heady air.
“They want me to leave, you know. They all want me,” Gaston whispered, his breath a slither on Adam’s lips.
Just the thought of someone else having Gaston, dealing with his shortcomings and hubris, made Adam’s heart break, “Yes, I could tell.”
Gaston rubbed his nose against Adam’s, “I’m going to leave too, you know. I’m going to leave because you don’t want me here.”
“Gaston, I…”
“But what if I don’t want to leave? What if there’s something holding me back?” Gaston’s body flushed flat against Adam’s, his breath inching closer. A black robed arm snaked up towards the shoulder, bringing their chests closer. Adam hitched a breath, rolling his hips upwards and receiving a soft, lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth. When Gaston pulled away, his eyes were dark as coal, and yet so light, so vulnerable.
“I don’t want to leave,” he sounded so fragile. Adam brought his free hand to cradle the side of the hunter’s angular face, gently coaxing it closer to his, lips dying to touch…
“Adam?”
The pair froze, their mouths just sitting together gently. Ready to rip the head off the fool that would require his attention at so crucial a time, Adam turned his head, scowl in place.
The scowl dropped to a fish-mouthed gape. He stared for what like a lifetime, not believing his eyes.
“Belle?”

***
A/N: Dun dun duuuun! Yes, I turned this into a soapie! >.

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Once Upon A Time