#basil wrapping an arm around his head AFTER HES BEEN STABBED BY HIM. god its like even as being murdered his love cant quite be killed

[infizero]

whoever made the decision to change basil's death from him sitting at the table and slumping over to dorian falling upon him and them laying on the floor tangled together like a cruel parody of a lover's embrace. i want to say thank you thank you thank you

[emospritelet]

DH remix prompt 14 "why the hell didn't you tell me?"

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [AO3]

Last time, Gold sought some legal advice and Belle prepared for their next meeting by talking things over with Emma. They were both given good advice so that means they’re gonna be sensible about things, right?

Please send me a prompt from this list or this list to fuel the angst and smut

x

Belle managed to get through a day of college without any issues, and at three p.m. she headed back into her old neighbourhood, and to the diner where she worked. She explained that she had to leave at seven due to an appointment connected to her pregnancy, and the manager gave her a long, appraising look that made her sigh. She had already taken time off in the early days when morning sickness had been a problem. Ed wasn’t known for his tolerance of absenteeism, or his treatment of his waitresses, and she suspected he was close to firing her. Jasmine, one of the other waitresses, immediately offered to stay to cover the rest of her shift, which made him nod slowly and wander off to the kitchen, and Belle heaved a sigh of relief before thanking Jasmine profusely. The last thing she needed on top of everything else was to lose the one source of income she had. 

By the time she left the diner she was sticky with sweat and her feet ached. The rain had grown heavier again, so she ducked into a nearby deli to try and wait it out, and to purchase a few items that she had noticed Gold hadn’t picked up. He’d done pretty well with the groceries, from what she had seen, but she didn’t have any hot chocolate powder, or the thick yogurt that she liked, or peppermint tea to settle her stomach when the baby was kicking. She was sure that if she mentioned it, he would get her anything she wanted, but she didn’t want to ask anything more of him, and so she wandered the deli aisles, breathing in the comforting scent of fresh bagels and ground coffee as she made her choices with what remained of last week’s wages.

Purchases made and packed into a large paper bag, she was dismayed to find that the rain had only grown heavier. It was also further to the new apartment than she had appreciated, and she hurried along the sidewalks, head down and her umbrella keeping the worst of the rain from her. The wind was trying to get through her coat, and she shivered as icy fingers traced her cheeks and whipped around her legs. A truck passed at speed, veering too close to the sidewalk, ploughing through the deep puddles that were collecting and sending a sheet of water over her. Belle choked, stopped in her tracks by the shock of it. Cold water dripped down her face, and she spat, blinking furiously.

“You bastard!” she shouted, glaring after the truck as its red tail lights sped away from her.

She was drenched, her legs soaking and cold water seeping through the shoulders of her coat. It was pointless to keep using the umbrella, and so she furled it, tucking it under her arm and hugging the paper bag of groceries to her chest in case it started falling apart. Her boots squelched as she walked, water pooling underneath her feet inside them, and she winced at the unpleasant sensation. By the time she reached the apartment building she was drenched, and ready to burst into tears of anger and frustration. Marco, the concierge, immediately hurried to the door to meet her as she stumbled inside.

“Here, here, let me help you!” he exclaimed, picking up a packet of tea bags grown soggy with rainwater.

“I’m fine,” lied Belle. “What time is it?”

“Five past eight,” he said. “You sure you don’t need help? You look frozen! It’s not good for the little one, no?”

“Nothing a nice cup of tea won’t fix,” she said.

Marco smiled broadly, but she bit her lip as she remembered it was what her mother, dead for many years, had always said. Colette had been kind and gentle, with a ready smile and a warm embrace, and Belle wished she was there to tell her what to do.

“Here, let me at least call the elevator,” he said, and pushed the button for her, the doors sweeping open with a soft ping.

Belle leaned back against the wall with a sigh, letting the warmth wash over her as the elevator travelled upwards. It was past eight o’clock. Gold would be there. She wished she hadn’t agreed to meet again so soon. She wondered if there would ever be a time when she wasn’t looking like a young woman so completely out of her depth. She was willing to bet a truck hadn’t drenched him with water. It probably wouldn’t dare.

Sure enough, when the elevator opened its doors and she stepped out into the corridor, gripping the sodden groceries, he was standing outside her apartment door, looking as calm and immaculate as ever. It made her want to scream. His eyebrows climbed upwards at the sight of her, which only angered her more.

“What happened?” he asked.

“What does it look like?” she snapped, rummaging for her key. “This place is further from work than I thought, and I got drenched!”

“You should have called.”

“God, I’m so sorry you had to wait outside the apartment for all of five minutes!”

She opened the door, barging inside and stomping to the kitchen to deposit the disintegrating bag on the counter. She could hear the tap of his cane as he followed her.

“I simply meant that if you had called, I would have picked you up,” he said calmly.

Belle leaned on the counter, letting her head drop.

“Oh.”

Water was dripping from the ends of her hair, droplets splashing on the counter top, and she felt him step nearer, his closeness like an itch between her shoulder blades, a creeping tightness in her lower belly.

“Go and take a shower,” he said. “I’ll put the groceries away.”

“No, I can do it!” she insisted, pushing up again and turning to face him.

“Of course you can,” he said flatly. “But you’re soaked through and freezing, so it makes sense to go and take a hot shower, wouldn’t you agree?”

Her mouth worked. She wanted him to snap back at her, so she had an excuse to yell. More of an excuse than he had already given her, anyway. Why did he have to be so fucking reasonable? Damn him!

“Fine,” she said stiffly, and stomped off again, grabbing her robe and nightshirt from the bedroom and locking the bathroom door behind her.

She spent a long time in the shower, letting the hot water course over her, enjoying the heat that sank into her body. Once she was done, she wrapped her hair in a towel and began massaging cocoa butter into her skin, concentrating on her belly and breasts and finishing with long sweeps along her arms. Her reflection was blurred, the mirror covered in condensation, but she towel-dried her hair and brushed it out before pulling on the soft jersey nightshirt and wrapping herself in the robe. Battered sheepskin booties kept her feet snug, still warm and cosy despite their age. Not exactly her best look, but it wasn’t as though she was trying to seduce him, even if she could. She remembered the nights she had spent with Gold, when she had worn silk underwear edged with lace, and he had kissed every inch of her body as he took it off her. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Sighing to herself, she opened up the bathroom door. There was a savoury smell drifting from the kitchen, and her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since lunchtime. So. He’s cooked.

Gold glanced around as she entered the kitchen, stirring something in a pan. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, looking as though he belonged in the kitchen, a stark reminder that this was his apartment, not hers. She remembered the times he had cooked for her before at his home in Storybrooke, when he had served up dinner on that big old dining room table, and afterwards he had stretched her out and made her the dessert. She swallowed hard, shoving the memory away.

“Take a seat,” he said. “I guessed that you wouldn’t have eaten, so I thought I’d make dinner. You don’t mind?”

Belle shrugged, sitting down at the table. He had laid two places and set out glasses of water, and there was a bowl of dressed salad and a dish of grated parmesan in the middle of the table. She could smell fried garlic, tomatoes and pungent herbs, and wondered what he was making. It would be good, she had no doubt of that. Gold always made good food. The bastard.

She watched as he turned off the heat and began dishing up, bringing two large bowls to the table. Penne pasta with a rich, thick sauce made with onions, garlic and tomatoes, basil and oregano and pieces of italian sausage. Her mouth watered, and she scooped parmesan onto it and dug in, the tomatoes sweet and sharp, the sauce rich with olive oil and melting fat from the sausage. There was a spicy kick from some fresh chilli, and she speared pieces of pasta, loading them with sauce and shoving them into her mouth with unladylike enthusiasm. Gold ate more slowly, watching her as she sat back and added some salad to her bowl. It was a good match, the vinaigrette dressing a sharp contrast to the rich sauce. She took a drink of water, spearing a piece of sausage on her fork.

“So,” he said evenly. “You said the baby was due on the fifth of May.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you have a doctor?”

Belle wrinkled her nose.

“Not exactly,” she said. “There’s a clinic near my old apartment that provided free prenatal care.”

“I see.” His fork dug into the pasta, stabbing and piercing. “I’ll get you better care. When’s your next appointment?”

“Next week.”

“Let me make some calls.”

“Knock yourself out.”

If he was irritated by her offhand tone, he didn’t react. Belle loaded more pasta onto her fork, shoving it into her mouth and chewing. Gold glanced up at her, dark eyes weighing, measuring.

“What has the doctor said?” he asked. “Is the baby alright?”

She swallowed, putting down her fork and reaching for the water to take a sip.

“Yeah, the baby’s fine,” she said. “Developing as expected, no problems on that front.”

“You’ve had scans?” he pressed. “Ultrasounds?”

“Yes,” she said evenly. “They confirm the baby is fine, as I said. Totally human, which given its parentage was something of a surprise.”

He didn’t rise to that, and she poked at her food, feeling his eyes on her, as though he was judging her, and finding her wanting. It was making her irritable.

“And you?” he said. “You look thinner. Are you eating enough?”

“I spent months throwing up, and I study and work every hour I’m not sleeping,” she said shortly. “I try to take care of myself as much as I can, but it turns out growing a person is hard fucking work, okay?”

“I’m not sure how my words were taken as a criticism, but alright,” he said dryly, and she sighed, dropping her fork and running her hands over her face, her appetite gone.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve had a long day, I had the shittiest journey back here, and I’m pretty sure the diner manager is gonna fire me any day now.”

“You don’t need to work,” he said. “You certainly don’t need to work in a bloody diner, I told you that. If you need money I can give you money.”

“Yeah, well, I’d like to keep what’s left of my independence, if it’s all the same to you,” she muttered.

Gold put down his fork, sitting back and looking irritated.

“Do you have to be so bloody stubborn?” he demanded. “I’m trying to help you.”

“I know!” she snapped. “I know you are, and I know I need your help, but I don’t want to need your help, don’t you get that?”

“Well, what you want is not my concern,” he said, reaching for his water again. “What’s important here is what’s best for you, and for the child. Speaking of which, I want a paternity test.”

She felt her eyes widen.

“You want what?”

“I want a paternity test,” he repeated. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

Belle sat back, mouth open in outrage.

“You - you don’t believe me?”

“It’s not a question of whether I believe you,” he said coldly. “It’s simply the fact that I know nothing about your life since you left Storybrooke. For all I know you were fucking half of Boston.”

She wanted to slap his face, and so she pushed away from the table, storming through to the lounge and pacing back and forth. She heard the scrape of chair legs as he followed.

“Is this you refusing to do the test?” he asked, from over her shoulder, and she whirled to face him.

“Oh no, I’ll do the test,” she snapped. “And when it’s positive you can bloody well apologise to me!”

“For what?”

“For suggesting that I sleep around!” she said hotly. “Not that it’s any of your business! Why do you even care what I do?”

“I don’t,” he said coolly. “But if you’re going to claim this child is mine, I care that’s it not in fact the spawn of some musclebound beer-swilling moron.”

“Right, because that’s so the type I usually go for…”

Gold rolled his eyes.

“And more importantly, because my lawyer advised it,” he drawled. “So perhaps we can dispense with the emotional outbursts.”

“Fuck you, Gold.”

“Some other time, perhaps.” He looked at his fingernails. “My lawyer also advised that if we want to come to an arrangement, I needed to find out a little more about your life. Are you in a relationship?”

Belle folded her arms, raising her chin.

“I’m not telling you that,” she said, and his jaw tightened.

“May I ask why not?”

“Because you lost the right to ever question me about my private life when you broke up with me,” she snapped. “It’s none of your business who I date.”

“And if the person you’re seeing is a threat to my child, what then?”

“If they’re a threat to our child, they’re out of the picture,” she said flatly. “What about you? Is your life just an endless series of meaningless hook-ups with whatever Storybrooke has to offer? How can I be sure you’d take care of our child when it was your turn, huh? Not like you have actual human feelings, is it?”

His eyes gleamed, and she felt a traitorous lurch in her belly at the sight of it.

“Don’t think you can derail this conversation!” he said sharply. “I’m still waiting for an explanation as to how I’m only finding out I’m to be a father two months before the baby’s due!”

“That’s - that’s not—”

“Was there a problem?” he went on. “I know sometimes the - the signs aren’t always there, so was it that? Did you only find out recently, or something?”

“What, you think I was out partying and drinking shots and all of a sudden it was ‘whoops, my pants don’t fit’?” she asked sarcastically.

“Well, I’ve no fucking idea, because you didn’t tell me!” he snapped, his accent thickening with his anger. “How long have you known?”

Belle shifted awkwardly, and he took a step forward, his eyes darkening.

“How long?”

“Five months,” she muttered. Gold’s eyes widened in outrage.

“Five months?” He ran a hand over his face, his cheeks making a wet, clapping noise against his teeth. “Five fucking months?”

“And three days,” she added sulkily. 

“And I’m only finding out now?”

“Looks like it, huh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, anger making his voice rise. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Why do you think?” She put her hands on her hips. “Given how you broke up with me, you really have to ask that?”

He blinked rapidly, gesturing between them.

“Oh, so - so this was punishment, is that it?”

“No!” she insisted. “I wasn’t punishing you, I just - I didn’t know what to say!”

“How about ‘I’m pregnant with your child’?” he snapped, making his fingers dance in the air. “Five words, Belle! Five little words and I would have come fucking running!”

“How would I know that?” she asked, throwing up her hands. “Which of the terrible things you said to me would ever suggest you’d care?”

He snapped his mouth shut, nostrils flaring, chest heaving, and she knew she had scored a hit. She took a step closer, raising her chin.

“Go on,” she said. “What was it? Was it when you said you’d taken everything I had to offer? Was it when you told me I was - was too much effort for too little reward?”

“Stop that!” he hissed, his eyes flashing.

“Was it when you said that you’d prefer a gourmet meal but you’d take the fucking two-dollar take-out if I was offering it on a plate?” she spat. “Was that it?”

“Stop it!” 

“I won’t!” she shouted. “Do you have any idea how that feels? To have the person you love spit such - such venom at you? Do you have any idea how damaging that is?”

He glanced away, swallowing hard, and she nodded, sagging a little.

“You do know,” she whispered. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

He was silent, and she felt rage swell inside her, rage and hurt and frustration.

“How dare you!” she snapped. “Why did you do it?”

“You know why!” he growled.

His eyes were glinting darkly, his chest heaving, and she felt her mouth fall open, realisation hitting hard enough to make her gasp. Her mouth twisted, and she shook her head.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I know why. Because you’re a coward.”

His jaw tightened, his breath quickening.

“No,” he said, the word falling from his lips with soft menace. He was rattled, and it made her want to laugh in triumph. She took a step closer, raising her chin so that her eyes met his.

“Yes,” she whispered. “You’re a coward. You pushed me away because you started to feel something, am I right?”

He was almost close enough to touch, close enough that she could smell his cologne, that she could feel the heat from him. It was as though sparks filled the air, dancing between them, making her hair rise and her skin tingle. Gold leaned in, his lips drawing back over his teeth in a grimace.

“Don’t try to analyse me, dear,” he growled.

“Oh, I don’t need to,” she said. “I just need to remember everything I’ve read about useless, commitment-shy arseholes with intimacy issues!”

“I suppose I should be more like you, should I?” he demanded. “Just clinging to the first person to come along because you can’t bear to be alone?”

“You know nothing about my life!”

“And you know nothing about mine!”

His nose was almost brushing hers, and she could sense that he was trying to intimidate her, to make her back down. It only made her want to stand her ground. She stared up at him, watching his chest heave and feeling his cool breath against her lips. Her heart was thudding hard in her chest, her pulse throbbing all the way down between her legs, and she licked her lips, watching his eyes briefly follow the path of her tongue. She felt a surge of desire for him, a need to touch him, to taste him. To know whether all she had felt for him was real.

It only took her rising up on her toes, hand stroking over his shoulder, her lips brushing against his, and his mouth slammed against hers. His lips pushed hers apart, and she slipped her tongue into his mouth, letting out a moan as she tasted him. Gold let out a rumbling groan, one hand sinking into her damp curls as he pushed her back against the nearest wall. Her belly was pressing into him, and he jerked back almost immediately, their lips parting with a smacking sound, his breath hot against her mouth. Belle grabbed his face with both hands, pulling him back to her and kissing him hard, and he let his cane fall to the side, his hands sweeping over her hips and grasping her rear.

She raked her hands through his hair, the unfamiliar feel of short strands tickling her fingers. Her touch pulled a deep growl from him, a low, bass tone that rumbled through her body, and she slid her hands down over his chest, dropping to the belt of the robe at her waist. Tugging it open, she scrabbled at his belt with shaking hands, her kiss grown hard and desperate. Gold was cupping her face with both hands, fingers sinking into her hair and sending shivers through her as his tongue pushed into her mouth, and she got the belt open with a clinking sound, flicking open his fly and reaching in to feel the hard length of his cock, cradled in silk.

Gold groaned into her mouth, and Belle squeezed him, cheeks flushing as she remembered exactly how good it felt to have him inside her. His hands slid down her body, pushing beneath the hem of her nightshirt and shoving it up over her hips, and he reached between her legs, fingers stroking her and releasing a rush of fluid. She pulled her mouth from his, head thudding back against the wall, letting out a cry of pleasure as his thumb rubbed over her clit. Gold trailed his mouth down her neck, making shivers ripple through her as he bit down, and she moaned, squeezing his cock, feeling his tongue sweep over her skin as his fingers pushed deep inside her.

Gold sucked on her throat, his tongue swirling against the place where her pulse throbbed, hard and heavy. He could feel her clenching around his fingers as he rubbed at her, her flesh like wet silk, his body humming with the need to be inside her, to sink into her, to feel her come all around him. Her hands were shaking as she grasped his shoulders and pushed him back a little, his fingers slipping from her with a wet, sucking sound. He thought perhaps she wanted him to stop, and he pulled back, but then her mouth was on his neck, nipping at his skin, her hands scrabbling at his pants and underwear and pushing them down over his hips. 

This was a bad idea. This was a bad, stupid, terrible idea. This would solve absolutely nothing, and would probably make everything worse. He knew that, and he almost said so, almost pushed her away and stopped her, stopped himself. But then she grasped his cock in her hand and stroked him hard and ran her tongue up his throat, and he smothered that tiny voice at the back of his brain, that tiny shrieking voice that might have been what passed for a conscience. He smothered it and silenced it and pushed wet fingers through her hair as he kissed her thoroughly, tasting the sweetness of her one last time.

She pushed at him, and he stumbled, falling heavily to the thick rug, his head thumping against the floor and making him groan. There was a sharp lance of pain through his leg, and he closed his eyes, grimacing, but Belle had straddled him, heat and wetness pressing against him, and he opened his eyes as she took him in hand. The robe was open, the jersey nightshirt clinging to her rounded belly and the swell of her breasts, her dark, damp curls framing her face. She was utterly beautiful, and for a moment he was breathless, transfixed by the sight of her.

He stroked his hands up her pale thighs, and she rocked her hips, rubbing herself along his length, coating him with her juices, bathing him in her heat. Gold let out a groan at the feel of her, and she sank down onto him with a long, slow movement, taking him deep inside, scalding him. He threw his head back with a hoarse cry as he pushed his hips upwards, and she moaned in response, hands braced on his belly, gripping the silk of his shirt.

Being inside her was delicious, incredible, and he gripped her hips as she began to rock against him, her movements swift and hard and urgent. She rode him like she hated him, and he imagined she did after what he had done, but the feel of her was making him see stars, the heat and friction building in a tight ball of pleasure that was starting to swell and grow, waiting to burst. He could feel it rise up through his body, making his skin tingle and his cock grow rigid. Belle’s movements quickened, her body rubbing against him as her hips pumped, her head rolling back to expose the pale length of her throat, the curves of her breasts and belly pushing against the nightshirt. She was glorious. A goddess.

He was near his peak, he knew it, and he wanted to hold off, to remain inside her, to feel the pull of her against him as she chased her own pleasure. He wanted to feel her come all around him, and he could sense that she was close, her flesh clenching and fluttering, her muscles growing taut where her thighs gripped his sides. She whimpered, her pace quickening, and he felt her come hard, a cry bursting from her. The muscles of his lower belly bunched as his shoulders rose up off the floor, a groaning gasp coming from his lungs as stars burst in his vision, blinding him. He came with a shout, his cock pulsing and spurting inside her, wet flesh tugging at his, and he fell back against the rug with a thump, pleasure washing over him as her movements slowed and stopped.

Gold let his head thud against the floor, licking dry lips as his heart thumped hard in his chest. The pleasure was dissipating, draining out of him and leaving him somehow cold and hollow, and he tried to slow his breathing, to calm himself. Belle pulled up off him, not meeting his eyes, and he watched as she got to her feet and backed away, tugging her nightshirt down before stumbling to the bathroom.

Gold sighed heavily, running his hands over his face, his fingers still sticky, heady with the scent of her. His cane lay some distance off, so he crawled over to it and used it to push himself to his feet. He straightened his clothing, rolling his sleeves back down, fastening his cufflinks and pulling on his jacket again. Replacing his armour, his protective layers, his shield against the world. He had been a fool to ever let it go. He had been a fool to touch her.

He felt better when he was fully dressed, and zipped his fly, buckling his belt as he heard the toilet flush and water running in the sink. His skin was still tingling from his orgasm, from the thrill of being inside her, the taste of her in his mouth. Straightening the knot of his tie, he licked his lips as he tried to calm his heavy breathing, and looked around as the bathroom door opened.

Belle was a little flushed, her dark curls awry, the scent of herbal soap coming from her and the robe wrapped tight around her once more. There was a dark bruise on her pale neck where he had bitten her, and it made guilt gnaw at him, even as he felt the matching bite on his own neck, just above his collar. She wouldn’t look at him, and he cleared his throat, tugging his cuffs straight and gripping his cane hard.

“I’m - ah - I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Belle finally turned to face him, putting her fists on her hips.

“What, like I didn’t make the first move?” she said, her tone dry. “You think I have no will of my own, is that it? I suppose this was yet another encounter in which you got to call all the shots, right?”

“No, of course not, it’s just—”

“Get out.”

Gold blinked, the coldness of her voice like a punch in the gut.

“Look,” he said calmly. “I realise we have a lot to talk about—”

“We do,” she agreed. “I just don’t want to do it now. I’m tired, I’m angry, and frankly, you’re making it all worse. Get out.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from snapping at her.

“Very well,” he said, his voice cool. “But given that we still need to have a conversation, I really think—”

“You have doubts about the fact you’re the father,” she interrupted, her tone impatient. “It’s fine, I get it. So I’ll take the test. Just tell me where to go and when, and I’ll do it.”

“Alright,” he said, “But—”

“And when you get the results and you’re satisfied that this baby is yours, we can talk, okay?” she went on. “Until then, leave me the hell alone, I don’t have the energy to deal with you.”

Gold felt his fingers drumming on the cane handle, and squeezed them together to hide his irritation at her constant interruptions.

“Can I at least accompany you to the doctor’s appointment?” he asked stiffly.

“What, so I can listen to your snide comments about how much of a slut I might have been and how crappy my life is?” she said thinly. “No. Since you’re so unsure whether you actually have any responsibility here, let’s wait until we get the test results.”

She stomped over to the door, and wrenched it open.

“Go back to Storybrooke,” she said. “I’ll see you in a week.”

Gold felt his jaw tighten, but nodded curtly, grabbing his coat and pulling it on. She wouldn’t look at him, and so he took his time about it, tugging the coat straight and brushing imaginary lint from the shoulders before sauntering to the door. 

“I’ll call you,” he said evenly, and she nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

He stepped into the corridor, and the door slammed behind him, leaving him in cold silence, the scent of her pleasure still on his fingers and the taste of her kiss on his lips.