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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: 11066 -:- 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
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Once Upon A Time…Gaston Tried To Leave
“I’m coming with you!”
“No you aren’t,” Adam said softly, grabbing Belle’s hand before she reached for her old travelling cloak – the one he had met her in.
The brunette beauty fixed Adam with a pointed glare, “There is no way I am letting you go out there alone! What if something happens?”
“What if something’s already happened to Gaston? Think about it Belle: he’s all alone out there, freezing himself to an early grave and I’m supposed to shrug and say ‘Oh well’?”
“You’re not supposed to go careening into a god-forsaken blizzard on a one-man mission! I’m not as weak as I look and Papa leant me Phillipe – I could hel –”
“Last time I checked, I saved you from a pack of wolves with ease. I won’t even have to fight anything in this weather!”
“Last time you had fangs, advanced senses and – I don’t know – FUR? You’re fighting the weather as one of the weakest species on earth – you will DIE!”
Adam threw his hands up in irritation, “Wars have been fought with less fuss!”
“Wars that did not involve my husband!” Belle near shrieked, stamping her foot and bunching her fists. Her voice was thick with grief.
“Chérie, don’t be like this. I will come back.”
“Liar.”
“I mean it. Vien dans les bras. ”
“Adam, come back. Promise me you’ll come back.”
“We’ll come back. Je promis.”
***
He was not going to give in. He had all but caught hypothermia trying to save this moron first time around – damned if either of them died this time. Not when Gaston made him feel like this.
Not when they’d been so close.
He had not bothered with anything more than what he was wearing for fear that the time it took to get a coat would kill Gaston. He did not want to subject the horses to this bitter cold, and the stable boy was already fast asleep with the door key chained around his neck. Hence, the blizzard was greeted by a blonde, love-crazed maniac in silk and on foot. Gaston could not have gone too far, not with the fast descent of the storm – Adam was banking on it, or else he would turn to ice before he could embrace the hunter one last time.
But what fools would not do for love.
The prince could not remember saving Belle being such an operation, even when he had three wolves on each arm, eagerly trying to tear him to shreds. He could barely see past his eyelashes, and could definitely not spot anything past his nose; the cold covering his face in a sparkling layer of ice. His hair felt like weights, spiky with frost and swing pendulously about (his ribbon had been lost somewhere between the castle and the three steps he took after closing the door). Everything inside him had turned cold and he no longer felt his purple, iced and chapped hands.
With each weakening step, it vaguely occurred to him that he was on a suicide mission: alone and on foot looking for one lone man in an entire forest where all he could see was white fuzz. He had no idea where to look first, or even if Gaston was still alive.
Fighting the impeding depression, Adam tried calling for Gaston, but stopped around the second time. The roaring wind swallowed his voice before it even left his throat and his open mouth was filling with sharp, cold snow. He stooped to cough them out, feeling them snake into his chest like daggers.
He was going to die like this, wasn’t he? Looking for his mortal enemy in a snow storm to tell him he loves him. The dose of irony was lethal.
Adam fell to his knees, not caring that there was snow around. He could not feel his knees in any case. He was prepared to fall face first to the ground, unable to cheat death a second time, when he saw it.
A small light, blearily wavering through the thick white air, plain as day despite the fact that Adam had not seen anything else before this. Stranger still was the fact that Adam felt pulled to it, almost warmed by its mere presence. Suddenly, he didn’t want to die anymore and he tried hauling himself up several times, succeeding on his fifth attempt. His eyes were focused solely on this light as it came closer.
It must have been the cold, for he swore he saw someone, just as underdressed for winter as him, sitting against a tree. She was a beautiful woman, her blonde hair moving in an ethereal fashion, almost as if the gale were a mere breeze – her pointed crown lay immobile atop her head. She had a long face with a perfectly angled nose, oval shaped eyes and lips that boarded on purple. Her dress was big and made of a green quite unlike any he had seen before. She looked startlingly familiar.
She was seated near something, judging from her stance, for her arms were wrapped around it gently. When Adam finally made his way close enough, she turned her head to him and smiled the smile of a teacher whose student finally understood. And then she was gone, the light that radiated off her soul gone with her.
Adam blithered for a few seconds, accounting the experience to his mind’s whimsy. He stumbled forward, keen to see what she – if she truly had existed – had been protecting. He was a nose-length away before he realised the eyes he was staring intently into.
Cold and purple yet filled with relief and a joy beyond comparison, Adam clumsily smashed his mouth to the frozen face before him. It was like ice clunking against ice and Adam was sure he had missed the other’s lips, but he couldn’t be happier.
He didn’t even remember to feel the cold as he dragged Gaston’s half-responsive body back the way he came.
***
Adam entered the library in his undershirt and plain cotton tights, his hair wet and defrosted. He heard the crackling of the only fireplace in the room and felt himself move towards it. He was still cold and his body weighed a ton as he tried to walk, but he was no longer unnaturally purple, and that was an improvement.
His heart hammered in his chest, painfully elated and apprehensive and trying to pump oxygenated blood through his body all at once. Near that fireplace was Gaston: the man who had tried to kill him numerous times and succeeded once; the man with the haughty voice and foppish mannerisms; the man who needed rescuing every bleeding day. The man Adam loved.
How Adam longed to kiss him for real: to assure him that his heart belonged to the hunter alone, that Belle was no more than a favourite sister. He hungered to possess the other: body, mind and eternal soul. He had for a long time now, despite how he fought it. He’d lost his soul that last day of summer, if not before. Perhaps now was the time to tell him.
What Adam saw when he approached the fireplace, however, was not what he was expecting. Instead of a blanketed, semi-conscious and entirely apologetic Gaston, he was met with a fully-dressed hunter who was packing bags and donning boots.
“Gaston? What are you doing?”
“Pass me my cloak,” the hunter snapped, hand outstretched and looking away from Adam. He was forced, however, to look up when his request went unanswered. He did not even have the decency to look ashamed as he glared into confused, and rather hurt, eyes.
“What?”
What seemed like an eternity, soundtracked by the crackling flames, stretched between the two. The lack of communication placed them on different planes of existence: here was Adam, infatuated and seconds away from confessing; on the other hand, Gaston seemed like he couldn’t wait to rid himself of Adam.
“Fine, I’ll just get it my damn self,” the hunter sneered, reaching for the cloak which on an armchair to Adam’s side. His gloveless fingers had just brushed the material before a knee forcefully collided with his nose and he was sent collapsing to the floor. With a shaking hand fruitlessly trying to staunch the rampant blood flow, he peered up irately at the standing figure.
“WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PRO –”
“YOU ARE!”
The voice that ripped its way out of Adam’s very throat was not his. Indeed, it didn’t even sound human – something similar to an anguished roar. Gaston’s eyes widened, almost comically, hand still gingerly clutching his nose. He was stunned silent. At this point, Adam should have apologised; walked out dramatically and let the fool leave. But he couldn’t stop, now: his eyes had grown a steely edge, his body was tensed, his breathing was hollow and he was very aware of how prominent his fangs were in his mouth.
“You have been NOTHING but a thorn in my side for a year – A YEAR! A year of my life I WASTED, TRYING to make you happy! I have risked my life more times than I care to count for you; I have opened my home to you; I have let you get away with murder – MY MURDER – yet, how am I rewarded?! With you leaving me! AGAIN!”
“Like this isn’t what you want?!” Gaston used a nearby chair to haul himself up, pointing an accusatory finger at Adam when he was finally on his feet, “How many times have I had to hear “Belle this” and “Belle that” and “Chérie, get outta my life so I can mourn some more about my one-true-love BELLE”! I’m here, I’ve BEEN here, and all you think about is her! You’re pathetic! So go back to your darling wife before she gets too cold. I wish you two a very happy life!”
Adam had no come-back. He stood, shaking from anger and sorrow and bitter lust, watching Gaston’s attempts at packing with only one free hand. The other was covered in blood. His hand fumbled, uncharacteristically clumsy, and his bags fell out of his grasp as he tried to throw them over his free shoulder. Adam watched him until it became too unbearable. He crossed the distance between them, catching the hunter’s hand as it reached out – once again – for a sack. Adam felt the other freeze as, with his other hand, he jerked the strong face and threw the large hand off the broken nose. He glared into the blank eyes, fingers clawing along the hollowed cheeks. Leaning forward and tilting up, he rammed the full lips into his, if only for a second. They tasted like metal and stained his lips crimson.
“Chérie, don’t leave me,” he whispered against Gaston’s mouth.
“I’m not Belle,” came the silent reply.
“I know,” a slight peck, this one lingering a bit more.
“I’m not a woman.”
“I’ve noticed,” gently sucking on his top lip. He could feel the blood slide in this mouth and stick to the roof. His member swelled at this contact.
“I can’t compete,” his deep tenor had become breathless, husky as his clean hand found Adam’s hipbone.
“You won.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Adam raised the hand still clutching Gaston’s and brought it to his mouth. He let his tongue circle the tip of the hunter’s smallest finger, before engulfing it as if it were food. He sucked at the digit – ignoring the excited way Gaston gasped – wincing slightly at the thick blood that coated it. He soon got used to the taste as he allowed his mouth to trail down the hand, rubbing the other’s blood over his nose and mouth, lapping at the flesh.
“I think I know exactly what I’m saying, chérie.”
A growl was the only warning Adam was given before he was forced to the ground with a hand to his throat and lips hungrily attacking his. He yelped when the hunter’s teeth mercilessly found his bottom lip, his hips jerking upwards involuntarily. Gaston seemed to like this, moaning as he ground his erection against the prince’s. Something in Adam saw stars and his hands automatically clawed at Gaston’s buttocks, digging his nails into the flesh.
An admirably insistent tongue slithered into the small gap between Adam’s thoroughly bloodied lips, which Adam proceeded to happily suck deeper into his mouth. Gaston muffled his praises as their tongues battled for dominance in the fiercest kiss in French history. Their bodies were still writhing together when they pulled apart for air, licking and spreading and kissing their blood all over each other.
Gaston tugged forcefully at the prince’s hair, driving the pain away with a deep and lingering kiss. Adam’s head was then pulled to the side, Gaston trailing red lines across the blonde’s jaw until he felt the body stiffen under him. He gave an arrogant snort as he sucked and nipped at the spot that provided such a delicious reaction. Adam bucked harder as he whimpered like a puppy.
Adam felt the weight crushing itself on him change just before he felt the hand cup his manhood and squeeze it. He leant into the touch, needing more and was granted that wish when Gaston began rubbing his member over the fabric, kneading it with his palm. All the while, Gaston was still attacking that soft spot under Adam’s jaw. Gaston trailed his fingers upwards, slipping his hand into Adam’s tights.
“God, you’re so beautiful,” he moaned into the blonde’s neck before wrapping his trembling hand around Adam’s throbbing penis and pumping zealously.
It was too hot now, Adam reasoned as he panted and whimpered as Gaston’s thumb brushed over his head, rubbing the slit. His clothes were ill-fitted; foreign and uncomfortable. Gaston’s clothes were worse – they hid all the beauty that Adam wanted for so long.
Gaston was skilled with his hands at more than just hunting, bringing Adam close to the edge more than once, only to stop his movements before Adam came.
“You will get rid of Belle,” Gaston demanded, bouncing the blonde’s balls with his fingers.
Adam could only moan, his nails dragging down Gaston’s back and drawing blood.
“You will stop calling her – or ANYONE ELSE – chérie.”
Adam arched his back as Gaston pumped faster, his grip tighter. He came, warm and hard, in his tights.
“And…”
He could have screamed Gaston’s name had the hunter not claimed his lips again.
“You will spend the rest of your natural life bedding me like I’m going to disappear.”
***
“So... good,” Adam huffed out, watching those delicious lips envelope his flushed cock and purring when the hunter hollowed his cheeks and bobbed his head. Raven locks blocked his view of his lover giving him the ultimate service and he leant as forward as he could go in an attempt to move the lustrous hair, whelping in pain as his arms reached their limit. He wriggled his wrists, trying to get some blood flow past the linen binds that pinned him to the bedposts. Gaston slid the hand that wasn’t cupping Adam and shoved the prince back, never once stopping his actions as he did so. Slightly miffed, Adam made sure to buck his hips a little higher, breathlessly snickering as Gaston choked. The hunter halted long enough to send a hard glare, then he was back to sucking the life out of Adam.
It had come as a surprise how easily Gaston had managed to get them to Adam’s room, especially when their lips were permanently attached the whole way. The man did not even need to see where he was going as he carried Adam – who was still grinding with his legs on either side of the almost-running man – up many stairs and down many corridors to the Master suite. They wasted no time in destroying each other’s clothes. They pounced on the bed, getting their boot prints all over the place, possibly breaking the mattress beyond repair and breaking the bed’s right-hand curtain. Gaston ripped strips from the pillows – sending feathers everywhere – before kissing Adam as if there was no tomorrow. He had even welcomed the biting and painful marking of his thighs. Next thing he knew, he was bound to his own bed and his true love was eating him like something starved. Upon closer inspection, the bonds were not tight enough to restrain him – Gaston was giving him the option to stop.
This was completely worth the whole year.
For the second time that evening, Adam found release. He could taste dried blood and his seed when Gaston had drunk it all and plundered his mouth. It felt good.
What didn’t feel so good, was the sharp, searing agony that sprung up between his legs. Adam threw his head back, shrieking.
“WHAT IS THAT!?”
“You didn’t think you’d be having fun by yourself, did you?” Gaston nuzzled into Adam’s exposed neck, inhaling him. Adam’s eyes were wider than dinner plates.
“TAKE. IT. OUT! YOU’RE TEARING ME APART!” Surely there was some way to prepare him? Did he just have to…shove…it in?
”Tough, just deal,” nevertheless, Gaston placed butterfly kisses across Adam’s jawbone and rubbed small circles into his hipbones, “I’ve been holding back for too damn long.”
The pain intensified as Gaston slid further in, deeper and deeper until his balls were rested on Adam’s butt cheeks. Adam’s face was turning purple from the lack of air that was getting to his brain, his eyes still focused on the ceiling. And yet, he had not bothered to free himself from his binds.
He could feel Gaston take a ragged breath before the pain overtook him again. He sobbed and gasped, his face twisted in discomfort and his ears deaf to Gaston wanton moans and mumbles. Suddenly, he felt something warm spill into him. Allowing himself a glance, he burst out in shaky laughter.
“Already? What was that – two, three thrusts?”
Gaston’s already gobsmacked and flushed expression went redder and his brows furrowed. “Shut up. I planned that.”
“And here I thought you were going to kill me in style.”
“…It’s for lubricant. And you’re too tight”
“Mais oui, chérie. Bien sur,” Adam nodded in mock seriousness. Gaston sneered, grabbing for Adam’s softening member and pumping it, claiming his mouth in the tenderest kiss as was possible. Adam pressed himself closer to Gaston, taking shuddering breaths as the hunter worked his magick on his erect flesh. He felt Gaston stiffen and expand from inside, but this time felt better. Smoother.
How Gaston managed to hoist both Adam’s legs over his shoulders, he will never know. But when Gaston moved, this time was easier. The searing pain became a dull throbbing that was almost enjoyable. Gaston was moving delightfully slow, pulling himself out just until the head, before sliding back in, just as carefully. Gaston had entered him for a fifth time when he felt it. He arched his back and moaned. Gaston, still flushed and very glassy-eyed, smirked and shifted his angle, hitting that spot again. Adam forgot to breathe.
Gaston made sure to launch a full-scale attack on Adam’s prostrate, panting like he was on heat and moving faster as Adam began to moan and grunt in earnest. They were no longer moving slowly, Adam demanding more and harder as Gaston obliged – thoroughly.
Adam’s eyes rolled back as he matched each thrust, loving how full he was and how good Gaston was feeling. Gaston went deeper with every thrust, tearing into Adam in a way that made the prince howl shamelessly. He knew he was bleeding from how rough they were going but it provided more lubricant to his thoroughly wet hole and the metal in the air made him hornier.
Gaston’s thrusts were becoming sporadic, parts his hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat. Adam felt it too, the tightening of his balls and the mind-destroying euphoria that he could now associate with climaxing. The pleasure rose, higher and higher in a blinding light. The world crashed around him, spiralling as he cried for Gaston. Gaston lasted a few more thrusts before convulsing violently and collapsing onto Adam, allowing the other to lower his legs. He was going to hurt tomorrow.
“Don’t…ever…do this with anyone else,” the hunter gasped as he struggled to catch his breath.
Adam responded by angling his head and biting into Gaston’s neck, drawing blood. He felt the other man hiss as he grew inside Adam again.
And again, and again and again until the evening bid the lovers adieu.
***
A/N: I may need people to send me as much information about university in America as well as the football season for college (university) kids. I’ll dedicate the next story to you all!
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Once Upon A Time