Summary: The Evil Queen's curse is due to arrive any day, and Belle and Rumple find ways to distract themselves and each other.
A/N: A couple of you requested more domesticity and mentioned you couldn't imagine Regina successfully tricking Belle the way she did in canon. I thought this would be a fitting conclusion to this story.
Belle hung the last soggy shirt on the clothesline to dry and stepped back with a satisfied smile. Laundry was one of those endless chores—there was always more to do and she hadn't even started on her dresses—but at least Rumplestiltskin's shirts were finished.
Behind her, she felt the warm press of his hands encircling her waist and squeezing. Short, dark claws dug into her flesh, a delicate yet insistent pressure against her body. She was dressed in nothing but his nightshirt, the silk so fine the heat of the late summer sun kissed her buttocks and breasts through the thin material.
She crumbled, closing her eyes to sink against his body, hard and unyielding against her back. He nuzzled her neck, goosebumps scattering across her flesh with his sharp intake of breath. The clothespins in her hands dropped into the thick crush of grass beneath her feet, her limbs going liquid.
"And what is my maid doing, hanging laundry in nothing but one of my night garments?" Rumplestiltskin asked, rubbing his cheek against her hair.
"There was nothing else clean," she answered, her breath unsteady as his hands began to roam her body.
She jerked her chin toward the heaping baskets of soiled clothing. He was kneading her waist now, sliding lower to cup her hips, his languid movements causing an ache to blossom between her thighs. He'd been inside her mere hours ago, loving her while the first rays of the sun tickled the windows of her bedchamber, but she wanted him again. She always wanted him. "How did you know where to find me?"
"This is where the clotheslines are," he answered, rubbing the sensitive skin behind her ear with the cool point of his nose.
"It's where you moved them to," she corrected with a giggle. She wriggled her buttocks against his pelvis and he groaned, his hands straying from her hips to circle her belly just above her mound. "Rumplestiltskin, have you been watching me through the windows again?"
He hummed in her ear, ignoring the question. It had become a running joke between them, though they never admitted the truth. They both knew he watched her from his tower laboratory while she did her outdoor chores and anxiously scanned the road for her return whenever she went to town.
Every time she came through the doors of the great hall bearing food and straw, he would be sitting on the dais at his spinning wheel, pretending to be busy. But he couldn't hide the way his chest heaved from rushing down the winding stone staircase. As though he couldn't have simply snapped his fingers and saved himself the trouble of running!
His shy devotion made Belle happy and heartbroken at the same time. She adored the way he watched out for her, but the idea of leaving him for any reason was unthinkable. They belonged to each other now.
Following their argument over the laundry when they had rinsed the soap from their bodies and pleasured each other in the stream, they had fallen naturally into becoming lovers. That had been almost two months ago. The affection and care between them had grown, and under cover of darkness in each other's beds, during stolen hours of reading, and in the midst of quiet afternoon tea times, they shared their hearts and hopes. And Rumplestiltskin had told Belle of Baelfire, the lost son he was determined to reclaim in The Land Without Magic. He had even shown her a beautiful inked drawing on tattered parchment—the likeness of a boy with a shock of dark, unruly hair and large, sad eyes shaped like his father's.
He had placed his trust in her by confiding his secret and the tragic story of how Bae was lost, and Belle had vowed to do everything possible to help Rumplestiltskin find his son, to see this little family reunited. One day she hoped to become part of their family, too.
Soon they would depart for a strange new world, through the power of the dark curse Rumplestiltskin had created for the Evil Queen. The curse could arrive at any time and while they waited, Belle was determined to take Rumple's focus off all the things he couldn't control.
This silly game of cat and mouse had become one of their favorite escapes.
"I'm here to help with the laundry," he said. "As per our agreement."
She pretended to pout, giving a mournful sigh. "You're too late."
"Am I? Is the clothing dry and ready to be put away?" He reached around her shoulder to rub the edge of one of the shirts hanging on the line.
"Ah, no," she breathed, her composure deteriorating as he splayed his palm across her mound, already warm and aching for his touch. The thin fabric covering her body inched upward. "These things are still...damp."
Her head lolled back against his shoulder while his soft, firm lips began to trail down her neck, nipping her with his sharp teeth and licking her heated skin with the tip of his tongue.
"Damp, you say?" His voice was a husky burr in her ear and the fabric bunched in his fists moved higher, revealing her naked buttocks to the warm afternoon air. Hot, seeking fingers pressed between her thighs, spreading her essence. She parted her legs and sucked in a breath, welcoming the invasion. "Hmm, no, my sweet. I think these things are rather wet."
"Ohhh," she moaned, her arousal heightening with his words as he began to stroke her.
"Yes," he said, spreading her wetness with quick, eager fingers. "These things are positively dripping."
She moaned again, her head falling back to rest against his shoulder.
"Gods, Belle," he panted in her ear, his other hand reaching up to undo the small row of buttons on the nightshirt. "The way the sun shines through the windows in the tower, I can see your breasts. Perfect little peaches, begging to be sucked."
He rolled a nipple between his fingers, scraping the point with his nail until she keened.
"Rumple," she whimpered, bending her knees to arch backward for more. "Please."
"I could see your arse, too," he growled. "And the curls crowning your hot, sweet little pearl."
He teased and tormented her with his fingers, alternating between circling her clit and plunging in and out of her core, setting a rough cadence that had her gasping for breath. She shunted her hips back against his torso, the delicious bulge of his hardened cock pressing into her rear. Moans poured out of her mouth, the tight friction making her beg for release.
The tension spiraled higher, her body thrumming with heat, every nerve ending crying out for the completion he alone could give. A cool breeze made the soft grass between her curled toes sway, contrasting his hot breath against her neck and shoulder as he mouthed at her, wetting the fabric. The pads of his fingers scorched her skin, heat on slick, glorious heat. Magic, its scent rich and intoxicating, bled into their arousal until she was sagging against him.
His fingers continued their relentless thrusting, driving her to the peak. It was but a prelude to the pleasure she would feel when he was buried inside her, thick and hot, hugging her with his body the way he hugged her heart.
He flicked her clit and she collapsed, coming with a scream, his name on her lips while he hissed words of love and praise in her ear.
Belle was draped against his body, boneless and sated, and Rumplestiltskin held on, gripping her hips to keep her from sliding to the ground. His limbs stiffened, and for a moment he forgot all about the demands of his body.
I love you .
He'd never said those words to her out loud before. He'd thought them, certainly, imagined saying them, and he was reasonably sure she knew how he felt. Belle had said those words to him many times. But it wasn't the same as saying it himself.
Who could blame him? She'd been so gorgeous in her pleasure, with her lips parted and her skin flushed, he'd gotten carried away and blurted it out. The rational part of his brain knew there was nothing to fear in admitting what she already knew. Still, the darkness reared up, hating to be exposed to the light.
Her eyes were closed, chest heaving as she recovered from her high. Maybe she hadn't heard him.
He buried his nose in her hair again and inhaled. The smell of the new laundry soap she was using, a blend of cinnamon and oranges, drove him insane. By the gods, it was only soap. He scowled, disgusted with himself, and looked at his hand.
The evidence of her pleasure was sticky on his fingers and his blood rushed back to his groin. Growling, he licked her essence from his fingers. She straightened and turned in his arms, giving him a seductive smile that made his blood thunder in his ears.
Laughing, she spun out of reach and pulled a wet nightgown off the clothesline. Bouncing on her bare feet, she snapped the hem of the gown at him and darted away, evading his grasping hands and bounding across the lawn with a squeal. The tails of the pilfered shirt she wore flew behind her as she ran and he couldn't help but smile at her gleeful expression.
He jogged alongside her, an eyebrow raised, making it clear he was humoring her. He sped up then, chasing her down while she zigzagged among the trees and along the bank of the stream, her feet leaving prints in the thick grass. He caught her, as was the point of the exercise, an arm snaking around her waist and another grasping her wrist.
She pushed her head into his chest and tackled him. And like an idiot, he let her. When she had him flat on his back, she crawled up his body and planted her sharp little elbows in his chest. He grunted in complaint while she unbuttoned his shirt. Bossy little thing.
"This is why we should have stayed in bed," she announced.
"I'm not following."
Those bright blue eyes dancing, she pointed at the rest of the baskets of clothes still needing to be washed. "If we stayed in bed, we could be naked all the time and never have to wash any of these."
Faulty logic if he'd ever heard it, but his traitorous heart leaped into his throat. She raised his arms over his head and slipped his shirt off, tossing it away. To think that Belle, more bright and beautiful than a thousand stars, would want him in her bed.
"If I have to look at you naked all day, every day, I will never get any work done again, sweetheart." He tugged at the gaping neckline of the nightshirt she'd stolen to prove his point. It had slipped down enticingly, revealing the swells of her breasts.
She untangled her legs from his and sat up, scooting her delectable bottom forward until she straddled his waist. She plucked a blade of grass, rubbing it between two fingers. "You said you love me."
"Did I?" His voice had gone shrill and he covered his eyes while she tickled his naked ribcage with the blade of grass.
She pulled his hand away from his face and kissed his palm. "I heard it."
When it came to coaxing him to talk and examining feelings, Belle had no fear. Sharing the castle with her, he'd talked more in these past months than he had in a century. They spoke of everything and nothing. About the curse, about the darkness and Baelfire, tea, spinning, and books. Never had he dreamed of having so much to say to another living soul. Yet with Belle, words were somehow easy.
He tried to scowl, a vain attempt to distract himself from the way her bottom was rubbing against his poor groin. "Not certain how you heard anything the way you were screaming. I'm deaf in one ear from your cries of pleasure."
She worried her lower lip with her teeth, giving him a long, careful look. "Are you taking it back?"
"No," he said gruffly.
She beamed. "Good. A woman likes to hear the words, you know." She draped herself over him again so they were lying chest to chest. With tender care, she brushed his nose, forehead, and chin with her warm, moist mouth. Always avoiding his lips, careful not to break his curse while he still needed his power, an insurance policy for the myriad difficulties ahead. She understood without him needing to explain, and his heart tightened with gratitude.
Inching downward again, she pawed at his chest, teasing one of his nipples with the flat of her tongue while she pinched the other with her fingers. He gasped, his cock a hard ridge along the line of laces holding his trousers together. "Gods, woman, you've got me in such a state."
"Mmmm." She eased off his body and knelt down beside him in the grass to unfasten his trousers, letting his eager cock bounce free. In moments he was free of the constricting leather encasing his thighs. She cooed to his manhood, blowing on the head until he bucked his hips. She suckled him into her mouth then, drawing languid circles around the tip of his cock while he whimpered.
He dug into her hips with his claws, his desire spiraling out of control. "Belle," he whispered roughly, "I need to be inside you."
She caught her breath and nodded, the same urgency he felt reflected in her eyes. She pulled the nightshirt over her head and it sailed away, landing in the stream. Once more she straddled him, taking him into her body, enveloping him within her wet heat.
He moaned, mesmerized by the bounce of her breasts as she lifted and lowered herself on his cock, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Her hands gripped his, giving her leverage while she ground herself against him. Soon her pussy was quivering, telling him she was close. He flipped her onto her back and drove into her, pumping his hips and sheathing himself deep inside her, then pulling out to the tip, over and over, until she dug her nails into his shoulders and screamed.
He let himself fall, surrendering to the sweet clench of Belle around his cock and his heart, his seed flooding her body in pulsing bursts until he was panting and spent.
They reclined in the grass together, letting the sunshine warm their naked skin for a few minutes. Even here in the mountains of the Dark Hills, summer reigned for a few weeks of the year, making the grass lush and bathing the landscape in a golden shimmer. The sun ducked behind the clouds, casting them in shadow, and Belle shivered. He snapped his fingers, covering them both with her favorite blanket and cuddling her close. She kissed the hollow of his throat and he sighed.
This, only this, for a little while longer, then he would tell her.
All too soon, her head popped up again and she rested her chin against his chest, curiosity glowing in her eyes. "We're going on an adventure."
"Yes," he said, resigned. Adventure was an interesting choice of word, softening the gravity of the curse. But the tension that had ebbed out of him when they made love returned. A hundred unspoken questions rose between them, and he couldn't answer a single one. Much depended on Regina. "It could be as soon as tomorrow, Belle."
"Then we'll find Baelfire," she added with a hopeful smile. His Belle, always looking for the positives, however bleak the situation, however much pain she might be put through.
"That's the plan," he reminded himself. "The reason for the curse."
She dipped her head again, pressing her cheek to his. "If only there was another way so others wouldn't know the heartache of being ripped from those they love."
They'd been over this before, considered other paths. But in the end, without a magic bean to open a portal to another time and place, this was the only way to find Baelfire. And in 28 years' time, the Savior would rescue them all.
"Regina is adamant, sweetheart." He clenched his jaw, knowing the coming destruction was his fault as much as the Evil Queen's. "The path I set her on is not one she will be turned from."
"And what of us?" she asked softly.
His hands tightened on the blanket. The moment he'd anticipated and feared most had come. "She has agreed to let us stay together on one condition: you would be cursed to be my wife."
He turned his head away and stiffened beneath her, sucking in a nervous breath. Any moment she would pull away from him, make an excuse, tell him it was impossible, beg him to bargain with Regina for other arrangements.
Regina had been the one to propose the idea of he and Belle joining their lives in marriage, her blood-red lips thinned in a sneer while she offered to perform the ceremony herself. Damn the conniving bitch. Cold amusement had glinted in her eyes when he dealt for a way to keep Belle and him together, and he knew she expected Belle to balk at the circumstances. As did he. Being the maid-turned-lover of the Dark One was one thing, being shackled to Rumplestiltskin for eternity was another.
The charged silence became too much to bear and he looked at her, desperate for a response. She was smiling, her face wreathed with a joy he didn't deserve.
"Rumplestiltskin, nothing would make me happier than to be your wife—in any land. I love you."
He blew out the breath he'd been holding. Did she understand the cost of her choice? The ways Regina could punish her for doing the opposite of what was expected were endless. "The choice is yours, Belle. You should know there may be other factors beyond my control. Ugly truths that resurface, new realities twisted to make you hate me as you should."
She narrowed her eyes. "Are you trying to get me to reject your proposal?"
Color rushed into his cheeks. "Well, I…"
Bossy and perceptive.
He fell silent, never imagining he could have everything he desired, even through the power of a loophole. Comfort, wealth, Belle as his wife, the fledgling hope of reuniting with his son. Forgiveness for his many sins.
She pushed a frizzy bit of hair off his forehead. "There's nothing you can do to make me stop loving you, Rumple."
He doubted the truth of her statement but decided against pressing the point. The future would be what they made of it. He was a greedy, selfish man and would accept the love she was offering him and hope for the best. Whether he could make her happy in return remained to be seen.
"You're mad to want me, sweetheart. But I love you for it. And for a thousand other reasons." He touched a finger to her nose. "Do you have any questions for me? I cannot promise answers, but I will try."
"Right now, only one." Her voice had gone low and husky and she licked her lips. The searing heat in her gaze as she stared at his mouth threatened to light him on fire.
She leaned closer, her warm, sweet breath fanning his face dangerously close to his lips. "In this new land, will we be able to kiss each othereverywhere ?"
He couldn't help a strangled moan. Gods, she was going to kill him before the curse was even cast. "I see no reason why...I mean...yes."
The breeze ruffled her hair, blowing soft strands against his cheek while she ran her tongue around the outer rim of his ear. "Excellent news," she purred. "Until then, I believe I'll need a demonstration of how well you kiss me everywhere else."
He didn't need a second invitation.
The End