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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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Upon A Time…Gaston Went Too Far
Even before the curse, Adam had had a special place in his heart for beauty. He was a practicing heterosexual, but there was so much to appreciate in a broad chest, an angular jaw and large, expressive hands. Beautiful men were not on Adam’s sexual agenda, but he was certainly fond of their air and company.
What the young prince had not expected was to be aware of his stirrings for Gaston.
Gaston, Gaston, Gaston, Gaston…it excited Adam how easily the name came to his lips. His mind could conjure up an image of the man faster than a heartbeat and, more often than not, the blond found himself swooning slightly at the other man’s voice.
They never did talk about that day they spent in each other’s oppressive warmth that last day of summer. The very minute they disentangled themselves at the call of the luncheon bell; they had pretended nothing had changed. No one knew of what had happened and no one had dared look lower than each man’s waist.
But something had changed in the air between them. Gaston had continued his on-going attempts at murder, certainly, but Adam no longer felt the need to fear for his life. Adam’s battles with Gaston became more like two lion cubs in playful banter. Every object thrown at him seemed to be deliberately off course; every punch served only to bruise. In return, Adam had made sure to choose only the bluntest weapons and his incisions were no more than superficial cuts. By the time it was hunting season, both gentlemen’s wounds had healed and Gaston was fitter than a fiddle. One could go as far as saying he was in a better shape than he had ever been.
Adam looked up from his book when the tingling on the back of his neck had gotten too much. He met a familiar set of piercing eyes and welcomed the fluid sensation he always felt around them. The tall, dark man sitting on the other end of the table gave a small smirk and pulled something out from behind his chair. The tip of the arrow just gently touched the bridge of his nose.
Adam rolled his eyes. He had gone 20 minutes ignoring the insistent stare of his companion – a new personal record. He should have known better than to cave and stare back. Gaston’s little way of requesting a fight had become staring at Adam until Adam made eye contact which, the blond discovered on many occasions, seemed to be confirmation. He would follow the former Beast everywhere, eagerly jumping into action when Adam did so much as glance in his general direction. Gaston’s insatiable appetite for brawling was getting rather tiresome and quite annoying. Moreover, the brunette had recently taken to enthusiastic wrestling and Adam could not be sure if he could muster whatever restraint he had left.
He placed a hand on the base of the crossbow, gently pushing it out of his face before turning a page. He was met by a disgruntled whine and a sharp kick that threatened the delicate balance of his tilted chair. He opted for his best irritation technique and ignored Gaston.
Three, two, one…
“There is no way on EARTH that book is more interesting than Gaston!”
“Gaston, chérie, when are you leaving?” he drawled, eyes never leaving the page although he wasn’t genuinely reading. He heard the clicking of the crossbow being put away and dared a glance.
Gaston crossed his deer-hide gloves over his clothed chest. That was the part of summer Adam missed the most – the growing cold played Hell with the other man’s weakened immune system. By order of Mrs Potts, he was no longer allowed to wander the castle barely dressed like that wonderful time Adam intercepted him leaving one of the guest bathrooms. The fight provided Adam with sufficient glimpses and brushes against what seemed to be a rather sizeable…
Another kick to his chair brought him out of his licentious thoughts.
“You would kick a man out in the fall? You would let him freeze to death in the coldest seasons? Why Beast, you do have a spine.”
“I helped you out – don’t make me help you out. Get lost,” came the exasperated reply. Adam just wanted a lazy autumn day; reading Belle’s book in the library. He was rather content with not doing anything with any tall, dark and handsome man.
Gaston’s eyes narrowed and he set his lips into a thin line – he never did take rejection well. A well placed kick against the table and he was storming off to do something mindless elsewhere. Adam felt slightly guilty, but only slightly: the man was like a spoilt child and Adam would not be at his every beck and call. Not all the time, anyways.
***
All Adam had wanted was one day off. Just one afternoon to himself without having to babysit an extremely immature and outrageously handsome nemesis. Was that too much to ask for?
Apparently so, because he hadn’t seen the muscle-bound toddler in close to a week.
He couldn’t find the man anywhere; even the blonde’s attempts of making as much noise as possible seemed to fall on deaf ears. He had initially thought of it as a shift in strategy and had respected the larger man for it, but there was no possible reality in which Gaston’s attention span could last so long. Adam had started to wonder if Gaston had actually taken his advice and left, but Cogsworth, Lumière, and several cleaning staff noted seeing and – being forced – to deal with him.
Adam knew that this was some childish retort – a kind of passive-aggressive punishment for not wanting to entertain the raven-head. Adam also knew that he should not cater to such stroppy behaviour and that Gaston would get bored and lonely eventually. This did not stop Adam himself, however, from being especially bored and lonely. There was not much to do other than hole up in the library, and the stifling silence offered Adam too many opportunities to think and brood.
And so, with bruised pride and a reluctant stride, the fifth morning saw Prince Adam on his way to the West Wing. He was going to wake Gaston up and demand that he not be such a little girl about the situation – one day did not mean a week and if he could just get back to pretending to kill Adam and sticking to him all the time it would be much appreciated. And, should the imbecile be missing in action, Adam was determined to wait there until he showed up.
So intent was he that he almost ran over the plump little man promptly rounding the corner. Cogsworth made an entertaining show of tripping out the way, flushing deeply as the blond offered him a hand up.
“God, Cogsworth, just where are you going?” Adam asked with a raised eyebrow. Both eyebrows flew into his hairline, however, when he saw how somewhat nervous his companion looked.
“Cogsworth, what’s going on?” he asked slowly and suspiciously, his hand moving to grab the man’s forearm. Cogsworth visibly paled and focused his eyes on the floor.
“N-nothing at all, Master! Nothing at all!”
“Then why were you running like that?”
A nervous chuckle which ended in choking, “N-no reason… I TOLD THEM NOT TO I REALLY DID, BUT DO THEY LISTEN TO ME? NO, NO ONE EVER LISTENS TO ME!”
“Whoa, Cogsworth, breathe!” Adam’s voice didn’t quite match his narrowed eyes and tightened grip. He was worried about Cogsworth’s state of panic, but the prince knew the man’s knack for knowing what made him tick. “Am I going to get angry?”
Cogsworth’s pencil moustache drooped, “Maybe…”
“Is this about Gaston?”
Cogsworth’s pupils dilated and he flailed about as much as he could, “HE’S TURNED THEM AGAINST ME! THE MAN IS PURE POISON! WHY!? WHY OH WHY IS EVIL SO HARD TO KILL!? HE’LL TURN ON US ONE DAY AND KILL US IN OUR BEDS!”
Adam sighed, remembering some of the few times he saw Gaston terrorising the rotund man, “What did he do this time?”
Cogsworth looked ready to faint, pinching his thin lips.
“Cogsworth…”
He looked like he was about to faint, his face turning a tinge purple from trying restraint. Adam was getting much too impatient with the other man’s bumbling – he’d deal with him once he’d dealt with Gaston. He let go of his hold on his frantic friend and continued on his way to the West Wing.
As Adam opened the double doors, he was greeted with a sight unlike he had ever seen. The West Wing was…clean. Everything had been arranged and fixed; the broken tables and chairs had been replaced, the carpet refitted and the peeling wallpaper had been reapplied. The dusty curtains had been replaced with lighter, brighter ones and the room no longer smelt musty. Everything looked brighter, bluer…it was extremely confusing.
“Oh, Master, you are up early,” Babette commented cheerily, pacing a vase of red roses on the table that had once housed a single enchanted flower.
“Babette…what…I mean…”
“It’s a lovely change, non? The dark pompous monsieur ordered it,” she gazed about her contemplatively, “He isn’t as dumb as I thought. Still rather stupid, though.”
Gaston had done this? Changed the most important room in his house without asking him? Even if he was living in it as a temporary measure, the West Wing was the most personal part of the castle – Adam’s dark past, his first fight with Belle, the final fight with Gaston and his last night as a monster had all happened here. And, with a foppish flick of the wrist, the fiend had removed it all as if he had the authority to do so.
Adam felt the indignation boil over his body, slowly clouding his vision. His eyes glared over every crevice until he noticed it.
“Where it the bed?”
Babbette looked up from a part of window she had been dusting, “Oh, monsieur requested that we move him to another room now that he was better. He said you wouldn’t mind.”
The Beast took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, “Did he say which room he wanted?”
“But of course,” Babette gave a little smile.
“He requested the Madame’s old room.”

***
Chérie: Dear (or baby)
Non: no
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Once Upon A Time