Chapter Text
“The worst part is when you get The Fear,” Ruby explained. Belle nodded sagely, trying desperately to impress the older girl in front of her. First year of college, virginal and bookish, Belle couldn’t imagine why Ruby Lucas, of all glamorous, beautiful people had decided to take her under her wing, and out for a drink at the campus bar.
“What’s that?” she asked, when Ruby didn’t elaborate.
“That feeling when you wake up, and you have no idea what you drank, where you are, or who you’re in bed with,” Ruby smiled, and took a sip of her cocktail. “And you panic, because for just a hot second you can’t tell if you’ve ruined your life.”
Belle had never really known what Ruby was talking about that night. Soon after she had met George, and after George came Ariel, and after Ariel came Will. All calm, happy, steady relationships: no risk, no Fear. Belle rarely drank more than three glasses of wine in the evening, and had certainly never woken up anywhere she didn’t recognise.
That was until this morning. Now, Belle knew exactly what Ruby had meant by ‘The Fear’. She had no idea where she was, how she’d gotten there, or whether whatever she’d done was going to ruin her life. She squeezed her eyes shut. For a moment, she was certain there was something she didn’t want to remember, and whatever it was she fought back.
It was mid-morning, that much was certain, with the golden light peeping through the closed curtains. She wasn’t hungover, at least not badly, so whatever she drank it hadn’t been too much. The bed she had slept in was beautiful, soft and warm and covered in silk sheets. Tall windows with heavy ochre curtains lined two walls, and the ceiling was cream with slight gold accents, a swirled pattern that belonged to a different century.
Neal must have put her to bed after the night they’d had, Belle thought with a groan, her hand covering her face. They’d stayed up in the large front room, catching up on everything they’d missed since graduation, swapping war stories and cleaning out his father’s impressive liquor cabinet. She must have passed out, and Neal being the good guy he was wouldn’t have left her to get a cricked neck downstairs, right?
That didn’t explain why she was naked, though. She hadn’t realised it until she moved, but the silk slid sinuously against her bare skin. Neal wouldn’t have stripped her before putting her to bed. They were best friends, but they’d always been more like siblings than anything else. And Belle didn’t think she’d have been so uncomfortable in her dress to make the effort to take it off herself…
A noise from beside her - a soft exhale, like a sigh - startled her. She rolled onto her side, and couldn’t keep a small, shocked noise from escaping her lips as she started, and pressed a hand to her mouth.
She knew exactly whose bed she was in. And apparently, Mr Gold knew she was in it, too. Naked.
“Well,” he murmured, his voice low and soft with sleep, “Good morning to you too.”
“I… hey?” she stammered, racking her brain, trying to explain this nightmare. Not that the thought of being naked in bed with Neal’s gorgeous father was a nightmare. In fact, it had been something of a daydream of Belle’s ever since she’d given him a tour on parents’ day, when Neal had gotten tied up with work and begged Belle to entertain him for an hour. She’d been half in love with him for years, with his rolling Scottish brogue, his deep dark eyes, his impossibly sharp and clever mind and his dark sense of humour.
It could never happen - she was only 23, only just graduated, and he was her best friend’s father. It hadn’t stopped her from indulging in some filthy fantasies every now and then. How many times had she imagined running her hands through his hair, kissing him, finding out exactly what that silver tongue and those long fingers could do when set to work?
Her face flushed beat red, and she covered it with her hands so he wouldn’t see. She knewexactly what they could do. The memories flooded back, and played out behind her eyes. He’d shown her his capabilities, over and over again, just the night before. He’d brought her to completion five or six times with his mouth and his hands and his cock, and now she was properly awake, it was all there in glorious technicolour. The memory of his tongue between her legs sent an entirely inappropriate, unwanted shock of heat through her. A part of her mind in direct communication with her libido wondered if he was up for round two.
“You don’t remember,” Mr Gold nodded, and closed his eyes, rolling onto his back with another low sigh. “Well, I suppose it’s understandable. But I do remember, and what I remember is that I took advantage of my son’s best friend,” he swallowed hard, his eyes squeezed tight. “It would be best if you left now, I suppose.”
And as she truly began to wake, Belle’s memories woke with her: saying goodnight to Neal, finding her way to her room, and then… and then stopping. She hadn’t been that drunk. She’d heard someone moving around, the light clicking in the ensuite bathroom of the master bedroom. Not the guest bedroom, but Neal’s father’s.
She’d knocked on the door, to a room that wasn’t her’s. A light had appeared under the door. Footsteps; a cane tapping, and then the door opened and there he’d stood. How could she have forgotten that, even for a few sleepy moments? He’d stood there all rumpled in his pyjamas, his hair mussed and his eyes so warm and dark. He’d been heart-stoppingly beautiful, and she couldn’t remember why this was a bad idea.
They’d spoken for a few minutes. Then Belle had kissed him.
“I remember,” she breathed. “I do, I… God, I remember everything.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, immediately. “You were drunk and you said you wanted this and… and you’re so beautiful,” he shook his head. “Not that that’s an excuse. I should have stopped this. You’re Neal’s best friend, you’re half my age, it’s no excuse.”
“I saw your door…” she said, still working it through in her mind. He thought she was beautiful. She filed that away for later daydreams, should she make it out of this with her crush on him in tact. “I saw your light on, I knew you were awake, and I… I wanted to know what would happen. What… what it would be like.”
“What what would be like?” he asked, frowning. They hadn’t sat up, although Belle knew it would make talking easier. It was as if they both knew that would break whatever it was they’d created last night.
“Being with you,” she admitted. There was nowhere to hide from it now, no way to deny it. She’d come up to Storybrooke to see Neal, but not just to see Neal. “I’d imagined it for so long.”
His eyes widened, and for the first time Belle saw Abraham Gold at a loss for words. He blinked for a few seconds, unable to comprehend what he was hearing. She bit her lip, and waited for his thoughts to catch up with him.
“And, ah,” he stammered. She wanted to kiss him again, it was so sweet how he was speechless over her. He was always so imposing, so in control, and that in itself was sexy as hell, but it was this softer side - rare but so real, so pure and sweet - that had drawn her to him so strongly. It was that side she knew she could fall in love with. “Was it as good as you hoped?”
“It was better than I’d ever dreamed,” she breathed, wondering now - however foolishly, however stupidly - if there was time for more of the same. She might never get another chance, she thought. Such thinking had gotten her into this in the first place.
“R-really?” he looked doubtful. She nodded.
“Really. Five or six times better,” she winked, and his jaw dropped when he caught her meaning. She laughed, and he managed a small smile, eyes gleaming.
She leaned in, and brushed her lips against his, gently, tenderly, unable to resist. His mouth was warm and soft, and for a moment he just lay there, stunned, letting her kiss him. Then he was kissing her back, increasing the pressure and cupping her face with his hand, bearing her backward, onto her back, blanketing her body with his, and he was naked too, and hard, and his tongue was playing with hers and-
There were three sharp raps on the door. “Papa, you up yet? I can’t find Belle!”
Gold's eyes widened in panic, and he turned to Belle, his mouth agape. She thought quickly, her mind a panicked whorl herself, and suddenly remembered another piece of Ruby's sage wisdom: 'When in doubt, hide in the bathroom: it's the best place to cry, vomit, fuck a stranger, or avoid your problems'.
She gestured to the door to the ensuite. Gold nodded, his eyes still wide, and Belle darted for the door. She only just got it closed before she heard more knocking, and Gold's voice, muffled and mumbling as if half-asleep, "What, Neal?"
Belle pressed her ear to the door, and heard it open. Neal's voice came clearer now, "Belle's not in her room, I wondered if you remembered if she had plans? We were supposed to go to Granny's for breakfast but I can't find her, and her cellphone's still here."
"How should I know?" she heard Gold reply, grumpily. "She's not my guest."
"I... papa?" Neal's voice came louder, suspicious, and Belle remembered with a sinking stomach exactly how she'd gotten from the door to the bed the night before. Her clothes made a neat trail across the bedroom floor, and in her panic to get into the ensuite she hadn't thought to collect them. "Why are Belle's clothes on the floor?" Neal's voice was rising with a panic that, ironically, matched her own. She winced: she'd not thought about how he'd feel about this. She didn't want to lose her best friend over a one night stand, however magical it might have been. However much deeper she knew her own feelings ran than merely sexual. She knew Gold couldn't feel the same way, and last night changed nothing. She knew she was attractive, and she knew few men - lonely and single or otherwise - who would turn down a drunken offer of sex. What else was he going to do, when she had all but presented herself at his door in the middle of the night and thrown herself at him?
She hoped to God that Gold's silver tongue could get them out of this, the way it had - in a much more physical sense, the memory of which still made her tremble just thinking about it - gotten them into it. She couldn't lose her best friend, not now, not when so much was so uncertain. And she couldn't bear it if she damaged the vital relationship between father and son, either. She knew how much the Gold men meant to one another.
There was a pregnant pause. Belle pressed her ear to the door, desperate to hear what was happening. There was a rustling of sheets, and then she heard Gold’s voice.
“Well, there's your answer, son: your friend has terrible manners,” Gold sighed, as if annoyed. “I believe yesterday I offered to let her use my shower, she said something went wrong with the one off the hall. I suppose she must have decided to take me up on it this morning, and I didn't hear her as she crossed my room. I was dead to the world from about four am, I'm afraid: I didn’t get a great night’s sleep.”
“So she… got naked crossing the room to the bathroom?” Neal sounded doubtful. “That’s weird.”
“I'm sure I wouldn’t know,” Gold said. “She’s your friend, Neal. I barely know the girl.”
Belle ran to the sink, and turned on the faucet. She shoved her head under the stream of water, and then used a loofah to wet her arms and legs, to make it convincing, then wrapped herself in a huge fuzzy red towel.
“Neal!” she cried as she opened the door. “I thought I heard you!”
“You were… in my dad’s shower?” Neal asked, his face a picture of confusion. “But why are your clothes out here?”
“I fell asleep in my clothes last night,” Belle explained, trying to look shamefaced. “Honestly, I just wanted to be out of them - they stank! I’m so sorry, Mr Gold,” She ran to the clothes and gathered them in her arms, knowing she was flashing him a lot of cleavage and thigh in the process. She didn't have to pretend to be flustered by the whole awkward situation. “I wasn’t thinking, that was so rude of me!”
“It’s no matter, dearie,” Gold waved a hand, as if he didn’t care, as if she were a minor irritation at most. “Just try and be tidier next time, hmm?”
“I will,” she nodded. “I will! I’m so sorry.”
She ran out past the pair of them to her room, her face flaming and heart racing. She hoped Neal had bought it. She wished she hadn’t just blown her chance at an actual shower, since she really needed it.
There was more talking, and a request for a breakfast run to Granny’s, since apparently her and Neal's plans - how had she forgotten? - had sounded so good to his father. She heard Neal’s footsteps down the stairs, and then the front door opening and closing. They were alone again.
She crept back out of her room, still wrapped in the towel, and saw Gold on his threshold, watching her. He’d pulled on a pair of pyjama pants and his robe, but she could see a triangle of his bare chest where the robe parted. She wanted to follow the line of it with her tongue.
“I’m sorry,” she said, swallowing hard, trying to suppress such dangerous thinking. “I’m really sorry, but… well done for the quick thinking, I guess?”
“Indeed,” Gold’s face was unreadable, and Belle swallowed hard, wishing she knew what he was thinking. “I lied to my son,” he said, then. His voice was choked with guilt.
“You didn’t want to freak him out over nothing,” Belle said. “It’s understandable. And this was my… this is my fault. I didn’t want it to cause an issue between you. I'm sorry if I have.”
“Right,” he nodded, and swallowed hard. “Over nothing, right.”
“I mean, this is nothing, right?” she fiddled nervously with the bottom of the towel covering her.
“Right,” he nodded again, smiling, and she tried not to notice how that smile had slid like a mask over a different, far less easy expression. She had the strongest sense that he was unhappy, and not about having lied to Neal. Did he want this to be more than it was? Was it possible he was as attracted to her as she was to him? There was only one way to find out.
“How long will he be out?” she asked, stepping closer to him, crossing the landing in a few quick steps. She saw the way his eyes caught on her breasts, barely hidden by the towel clutched around her. She remembered just what they’d been about to do when Neal burst in.
“An hour, maybe?” Gold replied. “It’s fifteen minutes there and back, and Granny isn’t quick about her cooking.”
“Good,” Belle smiled. “Because I could really use a shower, and I can’t take one if Neal is here since he thinks I already did.”
“Well, ah,” Gold swallowed hard, and his hand came to fiddle with her towel just as hers did, his eyes not meeting hers. There was a smile tugging at his lips. “We can’t blow your cover, can we?”
“You can shower, though,” Belle reminded him, wondering if she was pushing too hard. This couldn’t become anything, much as it hurt her heart to admit it, but once again Ruby’s voice filtered through her memory: “Great oral doesn’t come around every day, you know.”
At the time, Ruby had been justifying sleeping with their TA three times, despite knowing the faculty were off limits and she was on thin-ice as it was. It seemed to apply just as well to this situation. Sex didn’t have to mean anything, did it? And this would probably be her last chance with the man of her dreams.
“I can,” Gold agreed, smiling as he caught on to her insinuation. “And who am I to deny a beautiful young woman the chance to get clean?”
Belle grinned, and took Gold’s hand in hers, letting her towel fall to the ground. His eyes raked over her naked body, pupils blown, and a glance down told her he very much enjoyed the view. He swallowed hard, and his voice came hoarse. “You should pick that up,” he said. She nodded: no need to repeat the same mistake again.
She folded the towel over one arm, and let go of Gold’s hand so she could sprint across his bedroom, and into the ensuite. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked, with a glance over her shoulder. She laughed, watching him move faster than any injured man should have been capable of to join her, shedding his clothes on the ensuite floor and closing the door. Gold plastered himself to her back, and reached in front of her to turn on the shower. “We have maybe twenty minutes,” he warned, his voice a low rumble against her neck, kissing it a moment later. “And then you’ll need to be quick getting dressed.”
“Deal.”