
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/824300.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Once_Upon_a_Time_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Belle/Rumpelstiltskin_|_Mr._Gold
  Character:
      Belle_(Once_Upon_a_Time), Belle_|_Lacey, Rumpelstiltskin_|_Mr._Gold, Red
      Riding_Hood_|_Ruby
  Additional Tags:
      Golden_Lace
  Series:
      Part 10 of play_on,_give_me_excess
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-31 Words: 2120
****** Back Room ******
by whereismygarden
Summary
     Lacey and Gold's arrangement is taking on the flavor of an affair,
     very slowly, and neither of them know it. Lacey!Belle and cursed
     Gold, in Storybrooke.
Notes
     Have I mentioned that Lacey is underage in this series yet? Take heed
     if that bothers you.
See the end of the work for more notes
Lacey thought the white comb was pretty, upon further inspection. It had four
long teeth, carved delicately and shallowly with vines, and the handle was wide
and flat, crowned with roses on one side and thorns on the other. The pearly
sheen was attractive without being too glittery, she decided, and the second
day she had it in her possession, she wore it to school.
                She was too conscious of it perched there, tucked into her
curls rather unobtrusively, reaching up to check it every other moment. It felt
like a sign that read ‘I’m fucking Gold,’ as if she had his fingers buried in
her hair instead of shell, though she knew, rationally, that no one would
recognize it. She was the only person who wandered his shelves often enough to
have a general idea of what was kept there. No one even mentioned it, and she
went from feeling obvious to a little insulted that even Ashley, with her eye
for all things cosmetic, decorative, and feminine, had not noticed it.
                She walked from school to Gold’s shop as usual, and placed the
comb carefully on the counter.
                “I think I’ll keep it,” she said nonchalantly. He looked up
from his work: he never looked at her until she said something.
                “Fine,” he said, taking off the glasses he wore to repair
things and setting them to the side. “Your neck’s doing better.” Lacey touched
the thin scrapes and nodded.
                “Almost faded,” she agreed. “How much?” He frowned, glancing
down at the comb.
                “Twenty,” he judged. She sighed. She shouldn’t smoke as much,
anyway. Now she would have to ration for a while, if she really wanted it.
                “Here,” she said, pushing over the crumpled bills, and he
tucked them into the register and noted the sale in his ledger. “Why don’t you
have a computer?”
                “I don’t need one,” he said simply. She leaned on the edge of
the counter, but apparently his goodwill didn’t stretch so far, because he
prodded her hip with stiff fingers. “Get off my counter.” She straightened and
walked around to the other side, running her fingers through his hair. “That’s
not the best idea,” he said. She tugged gently.
                “Come on, why not?” she teased, and nosed along his ear.
“You’re the one who stuck your fingers inside me, right here.” She nipped his
earlobe, and he hissed sharply, gripping her wrist. “Come on, Gold, I’m dying
here.” He snickered at that, and kissed the inside of her wrist lightly.
                “The little death, eh?” She tried to glare, but he was so
pleased with his joke, and she felt blood thumping in her ears at his touch.
“Your hormones are just driving you insane, aren’t they?”
                “What, like you don’t have hormones?” He only pulled her so
that she was half-straddling him in his chair, and gripped her hips with his
hands.
                “I think that the biological drive is a little less consuming,”
he said slowly, and pressed his face against her breasts, running his left hand
up her side, under her shirt, and undid the clasp of her bra with ease. “But
let’s see what we can do about that.” Warm, weathered fingers brushed over her
breast, and she hitched in a breath when he rubbed a thumb over her nipple. He
lifted his face and looked smugly into her face. “You look a little flushed,
Lacey.” She moved so she was properly in his lap, and ground her hips into his.
He pushed her off. “No, none of that.” He tweaked her nipple sharply, sending a
little jolt to straight between her legs, and stood up from his chair, backing
her into the little room behind the actual shop.
                It was as crowded as the front, and under any other
circumstances, she would have been happy to simply poke around at all of it.
But the present circumstances were Gold’s hands under her shirt and at the
waist of her jeans, and most of her cognitive processes were dedicated to
understanding what he was intending. She had meant to tease him, but she had
found she didn’t mind him guiding her, sometimes. Last time she had been half-
stupid with painkillers and he’d been careful, of all things.
                “Lacey, sit down,” he said hoarsely, and actually let go of
her. There was something like a cross between a bench and a cot behind her, and
she sat. He turned away and limped towards one of the shelves, returning a
breath later with a silk pillow, which he tossed at her feet. “This might take
a few seconds,” he teased, gesturing to his cane.
                “Are you…sure?” she asked, suddenly uncomfortable now that she
did see his intention. He gripped the edge of the cot and braced his cane hard
against the floor.
                “I’m going to all this trouble for you, am I not?” he said
shortly, finally managing to kneel on the pillow and taking hold of her thighs
again. She didn’t let him pull them apart, though, holding herself rigid.
                “I—“ she floundered for a word, an explanation. “I don’t—I
don’t know if you want to,” she faltered. Gold reached up and grabbed her chin,
pointing her face toward him. He looked curious and a little offended.
                “Oh, I want to,” he said, and his voice was thick, hungry, and
she shivered. “Why don’t you want me to?” She pressed the heel of her hand to
her forehead and fought for clarity.
                “No one’s ever—offered,” she said feebly. She wouldn’t want
Greg or any of her other flings to do this, though. She wasn’t even sure she
wanted Gold to, though his face was almost hungry and his fingers dug into her
legs like claws. He chuckled, and rubbed his face along her denim-clad thigh,
biting at her through the fabric.
                “Come on,” he said, in a moaning voice. “Lacey, please let me.”
She whimpered at the idea, of sitting back and letting him pleasure her, yet
part of her was rebelling at it: he was on his knees, but she was surrendering.
                “Okay,” she whispered, and let him unfasten her jeans and pull
them down her hips with a growl. A few tears pricked at her eyes, and she
squeezed them tight. He pulled down her underwear and yanked all of it to her
ankles, then pulled her thighs wide and buried his face between them.
                “Oh,” she said softly, as his tongue moved over her clit,
brushing at her in slow, soft patterns. “Oh.” He hummed at her words, and she
put her fingers through his hair, her other hand gripping his shoulder. “Yes,
there, God, yes,” she was panting already, sweat gathering at her temples and
neck. She tensed her legs, unable to stop them from trembling when he rubbed
his nose at her clit and lapped at the liquid flowing from her entrance. He
returned tongue and then lips to her swollen bundle of nerves, and she threw
her head back, taking heaving breaths in an attempt to not scream. “Yes,” she
groaned, feeling light-headed as waves of bliss rocked over her with every
movement of his tongue. Her hips jerked forward, and she cried out sharply,
feeling she would burn up if she didn’t come soon. The silky smooth feeling of
his mouth was different from the firmness of his fingers, and the slow softness
of it all was unbearable.
                Her toes curled, and she shifted her legs, biting down on her
hand as the waves finally crested, her vision going in a blur of sparks. She
gasped, leaning forwards, and her hand clenched around his hair. Her hips
thrust forward of their own accord, seeking out more friction, and she had
never come quite like this before: slow and hot and sliding, and effortless.
She’d only sat and he had done the rest.
                “Any regrets?” he asked lowly, stroking along her thigh. She
smiled blearily at him.
                “God, no. That felt incredible.” He struggled back to his feet,
looking unashamedly happy at her spread legs and clothes around her ankles.
                “You’re welcome,” he said, wiping his mouth on the blue pocket
square from his jacket. Lacey snorted: she knew this exchange.
                “I didn’t say thank you,” she fired back, and he only smiled
more. An odd silence settled over them, and she pulled her jeans back over her
hips, standing back up and avoiding his eyes. “I suppose I had better go,
then.”
                “Yeah, probably,” he agreed, and walked back to the counter,
where he pulled out a square of paper and wrapped her comb. “Here you are, Miss
French.” She tucked it into her purse and nodded, turning away and walking out
of the dark little shop and into the bright October sunlight.
                Ruby’s car was parked at the curb; her friend was smoking in
the driver’s seat, idly looking over her nails. Lacey climbed into the
passenger seat and propped her feet on the dashboard.
                “What are you doing here?” Ruby gave her a flat look.
                “I was looking for you. You’re not working till later tonight.
Where else would you be?” Lacey frowned at the other girl.
                “What do you mean?” She was feigning innocence: she did spend
an odd amount of time with the town pariah. She flipped on the radio, trying to
act as if she truly didn’t care. Ruby sighed.
                “I mean that you are always in Gold’s shop, and I think he has
some creepy thing for you.” Lacey tilted her head and gave Ruby her most
disbelieving look.
                “Really, Rubes? Gold?”
                “Whenever he’s near us in the street, he always looks at you.
Like he wants to fuck you, I might add.” Lacey opened the glovebox and took one
of Ruby’s cigarettes out of it, then fished her lighter from her bag.
                “He’s just my friend.” The other rolled her eyes.
                “Yeah, because God knows you’ve never fucked one of your
friends before.” Lacey sighed, unable to get as offended as she ought to over
Ruby’s comment, still in the warm and golden afterglow of orgasm.
                “Come on, you know I don’t have nearly as much sex as everyone
thinks.” Her friend narrowed her eyes suddenly, putting a red nail to her
crimson lips.
                “Oh my God,” she said, softly. Lacey took the lull to light her
cigarette and tuck her lighter away. “You’re not making a joke about it. You
make jokes about Greg all the damn time, and I know you’ve only banged him like
two or three times. You are totally doing Gold!” Her voice rose into a squeak.
“Don’t you dare lie to me, Lacey French, you were just in there fucking him!”
                “Oh, shut up,” she said, still not willing to argue, and
knowing her face was turning red. “Just drive, all right?” Ruby started the car
and managed to stall twice, she was so distracted.
                “Well, well, well, you finally found someone as batshit insane
as you,” she said, voice amused. Lacey exhaled a cloud of smoke, glad beyond
words that Ruby had not condemned her. Of course she wouldn’t, Ruby never
judged her for anything, but it was nice to share her part of the secret,
instead of holding it close and tight. “Huh. Is he any good?” Lacey laughed out
loud: Ruby through and through.
                “Mmm-hmm,” she pronounced. “Really good,” she added, just to
watch her friend squirm.
                “All right, never mind! I don’t want details about how you and
Gold get it on, you kinky little freak.” Ruby snorted, shaking her head a
little, and changed the radio station. “Now thisis music.” Lacey smiled and
tapped her fingers along with the drums as Ruby sang.
                “My secret friend, oh take me to the river, so we can swim
forever,” she grinned over at Lacey and finished, “break my deepest, break my
deepest promise.”
                “Cheery,” Lacey grumbled, sticking her head out the window for
fresh air.
                “Shut up, I’m ninety-five percent sure you just got laid, so I
don’t want to hear it. I am going on a date with Billy tonight, so I will
listen to what I want.”
                Lacey didn’t really mind, the song was nearly over, and she
wished Ruby all the best on her date, though dating was not her thing. Though
the idea of spending a few hours in Gold’s company was far less repellent than
the idea of doing so with Greg or one of his friends, she thought the few
minutes in the back room had told her more about herself and Gold than any date
could. She brushed her hand over the paper-wrapped comb and tossed the
cigarette out of the window, into a sewer drain.
End Notes
     Lyrics from the IAMX song "My Secret Friend."
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