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He couldn't stop looking at her hand. He didn't mean to keep staring, his eyes drawn to her slender fingers and, in particular, to the one where her wedding ring had once rested. He knew her finger was bare. He knew, understood even, and yet he still found himself glancing at it when they were together, guilt and longing welling simultaneously in his chest as he remembered how he had felt the night he slipped it onto her finger - and just why she wasn't wearing it now.
They had made progress these last few weeks. They had come together for their son, certainly, but there was no denying that what remained between them - their love - was still as strong as ever. It was there in the little glances and touches, in the way she let him hold her that night in the pawn shop. It wasn't enough to erase all the hurt, he knew, but it was as much a start as he could hope to have and infinitely more than he deserved.
Because of that, he tried not to wish that he could see his band on her finger again, that small sign that he was still hers and she his, and tried to focus on proving it to her instead.
Even if he did manage to slip up sometimes, his eyes wandering to her fingers as his heart wished.
"Rumple?" Belle asked beside him, the hint of worry in her voice pulling him from his thoughts.
"Hm?" He raised his eyes from her hand to find her looking at him oddly and he realized she must have called for him more than once.
The corner of her mouth twitched in what was almost a smile and he found his gaze dropping there of its own accord. It had been so long since he had seen her smile... At all, much less at him. She should be smiling always, not standing with her brow furrowed and her shoulders tense as they tittered about his shop in search of answers about what had happened to their son. He should have protected her - protected them both.
"Did you find it?" she asked with a little tilt of her head as she gestured to the book he was supposed to be looking through.
It took a moment for him to realize what she meant.
"Oh! Y-Yes. Sorry," he muttered, taking a small step back so she could see the text. He thought she would pull it toward her, but she slipped into the small space he left between himself and the counter instead. He froze behind her, gulping hard at the feel of her pressed against him.
"It's... It's an ancient magic. A bit complicated to cast, but I should be able to do it," he explained, his mind going over the instructions in his head just as Belle read them for herself.
"You really think it can undo what that realm did to age him?" she asked, a bit distracted as her eyes continued to scan the text.
He wasn't lying when he told her "Yes," but he left out the caveat that could affect his success.
It was useless though, he knew. Belle, of course, read every word of the text before her (even the footnotes written in an ancient script) and he knew she'd reached it when she gasped loudly.
"Rum- What does this mean, if the caster 'survives?'" She whirled around, her finger pressed accusingly to the portion of the instructions he had tried to avoid telling her.
He considered skirting the truth, as he so often did. But with the trust between them already so fractured he couldn't bear to risk that she might find out later and be upset with him.
So he sighed, his fingers itching to reach for her but delving into his pockets instead as he admitted, "All magic comes with a price, Belle, you know that. To reclaim lost time... that requires the greatest price of all. No harm will come to our son; I swear to you. The spell will return him to his true form. But what happens to me..." He shrugged.
"You... You would do that? Risk your life?" she asked, her eyes wide.
"Of course," he said immediately. "To bring our son back to you, I would risk everything."
She frowned, the space between her brows furrowing as she considered his words. "But... Rumple if something happens to you..."
He nodded. He knew what was at stake. After everything he had done in an effort not to lose his son, he may very well lose himself in an attempt to bring him back. But it didn't matter. Not really.
"If something happens to me, then so be it. I will bring him back to you, Belle. I will bring our son home," he vowed.
Their Gideon.
Taken from them and forced to grow without ever knowing how very much his parents loved him. The Black Fairy had been a formidable opponent, twisting their son with darkness, but she was no match for the light of True Love. For Belle's goodness and bravery. Rumplestiltskin had never been prouder of anyone than he was of Belle and her determination to save their son. It hadn't been easy, and even now Gideon was only cautiously open to their guidance, but he understood what had happened to him and had agreed to have things set right.
Rumplestiltskin hadn't done much of value in his long life, but his family was one thing he had gotten right. His wife and son were everything to him. If he had to sacrifice himself so they got the second chance they deserved, then so be it.
Belle, however, was looking at him like she couldn't quite decide whether to cry or yell at him. Tears were forming in her blue eyes, and he felt that small sting of panic well in his chest at the sight of them.
"Belle, sweetheart, it will be fi- " he started to say, hoping to reassure her.
But he never managed to finish because Belle's mouth suddenly crashed against his, turning the rest of his words into a low groan as he felt her lips against his once more.
Oh, how long had it been since he had kissed her? How long since the taste of her flooded his tongue and her arms wrapped around his neck to hold him close? It was if he had been stranded in a desert for weeks and suddenly had water pressed to his lips. He didn't think, didn't hesitate, merely reacted in that hasty, fumbling way of a man who was desperate not to miss a single moment of the miracle happening in front of him.
His hands splayed around her waist, fisting into the fabric of her coat when she tilted her head and deepened the kiss. He didn't press her, didn't dare demand more than she was willing to give, but he could feel his body trembling as she parted his lips with her tongue, delving inside to trace over his own. She tasted exquisite, his Belle, like tea and honey and home. It was the familiarity of it all, the almost homesick way in which his heart clenched, that had him leaning forward to chase her, his arms crushing her to him as he kissed her back with an almost reckless abandon.
There was a split moment where she paused and he faltered, worried that he'd overstepped that invisible boundary that had formed between them. He was just pulling back when she let out the most beautiful little groan and tugged him back to her, one of her hands trying to sink into his hair. Without the long strands there to bury between, her nails scraped his scalp instead, sending jolts of pleasure like small lightning bolts clear down to his toes.
He was holding her too tightly - much too tightly - and yet he couldn't let go, couldn't bear to allow even an inch of space between them. When their months finally parted, it was only so he could drag a ragged breath into his spent lungs, his lips finding purchase against her neck instead. She tilted her head back to encourage him to find that spot below her ear that she loved, and he pulled her soft skin between his lips and reveled in the way the smell of her surrounded him there, her warmth pressed against him and making him feel whole for the first time in weeks.
He trailed kisses from her ear to her jaw and then lower, his teeth joining his foray above her collarbone. It was her small yelp when he he nipped at her that broke through his haze and had him scrambling to let her go, the realization of what he was doing hitting him like a freight train.
"I-I'm sorry. I'm so s-sorry, Belle, I didn't mean..." he hurried to say.
She had a hand pressed to his chest now, though how it had gotten there and he had managed to miss the way she tried to push him away, he didn't know. Gods, he was reprehensible. Of course she couldn't really want this from him. The kiss had been a mistake and he had gone and made an even larger blunder by taking advantage.
But... She didn't appear upset. In fact, her hand was only against him long enough to set some space between them before she let him go and started tugging her coat from her shoulders, tossing the thick wool onto the counter beside her. And then she was grabbing his tie and yanking him forward again.
Her mouth was insistent against his, and despite himself he felt his body melt against her. When she swiveled them slightly so she could lean against the counter he followed without a second thought, trapping her between the glass and his chest.
"Belle," he mumbled between kisses, a small part of his brain still trying to convince him that he should let her go.
Indeed, it was being overrun slightly by the way her hands had already shoved his jacket from his shoulders. He didn't know where the fabric went, only that her fingers were now unfastening the buttons of his waistcoat and Gods did he want to feel her fingers against his bare skin.
His hands didn't know where to go. They fluttered aimlessly around her sides, wishing they could sink into her hair or divest her of some of her clothing so he could feel her, but he was still so taken aback by what was happening - and, really, that it was happening at all - that he didn't quite know how far he was allowed to go.
His body decided for him at the first touch of her fingertips against his chest. She'd managed to remove his waistcoat during his fumbling and undone the buttons of his shirt, pulling the material free of his trousers so she could part it and slip her hands beneath the fabric. She was so warm; so warm and soft and his body flamed against her touch. Suddenly, his right hand was grabbing her thigh and lifting it against his hips, his left finally burying itself within her silken curls as he ground his hips against her. He was already thick and hard within his trousers, almost embarrassingly close to bursting as she shifted against him.
"Belle, please... I..." he stuttered, not knowing exactly what he wanted to ask, only knowing that he didn't want to take anything she wasn't willing to give.
Belle, bless her, nuzzled against his neck, her mouth curved in a smile.
"Please, Rumple," she whispered lowly, her breath ghosting over his skin as her fingers squeezed the back of his neck.
He growled against her temple before he finally gave in completely, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was softer than the others; full of wonder and gratitude and, above all, love. Her blue eyes were wide and dark when he met them again, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen, and he'd never seen anything so beautiful as his wife at that moment, adoration somehow still shining from her as she met him gaze.
And then her hands dropped to his belt and every coherent thought flew from his mind as he let out a choked noise that was something between excitement and protest. Protest, because there was no way he would last if she so much as touched him right at that moment and he would be dammed if he left her unsatisfied after waiting so long to have her again.
He guided her arms around his neck instead and shivered when her fingers began to play with the ends of his hair as she waited, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she watched him. His own gaze couldn't decide where to settle, flickering as it was over every detail as he looked his fill. The ivory column of her neck, the soft sweep of her cleavage beneath her blouse, the steady rise and fall of her chest, the way her cheek dimpled as her mouth lifted.
He kissed the corner of her mouth as his hands went to the hem of her blouse. At his hesitant look, she nodded and lifted her arms, and he drew the material over her head slowly, enjoying each new inch of her skin as it was revealed. But the gentle curve of her breasts outlined in blue lace, beautiful as the sight was, wasn't what made him gasp; rather, it was the gold chain resting against her skin. A gold chain which held her wedding ring against her heart, the small diamond shimmering in the shop light.
He froze at the sight of it, his fingers still clasped around her blouse as his jaw dropped.
Her wedding ring.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blush tinge her cheeks and the almost nervous way she nibbled on her lip.
"You... You still have it," he whispered with a disbelieving little shake of his head, his wide eyes lifting to meet hers.
She gave him a sad smile and twirled the gold band between her fingers.
"I didn't feel like I deserved to wear it," she admitted quietly. "But I couldn't bear to part with it either."
He could feel his eyes stinging as she spoke, at the regret and pain so clear in her voice. He brought his hands up to cup her cheeks, his thumbs brushing against her skin as he urged her to meet his eyes.
"Belle, having you as my wife has been the biggest and greatest honor of my life. Nothing will ever change that," he promised.
"I've made so many mistakes, Rumple..."
"So have I," he reminded her. "None of it has changed the way I feel about you. I love you, Belle. Always."
She was quiet for a moment, watching him, her blue eyes shining with tears of her own as she considered his words. He kissed them away when they spilled over her cheeks, then pressed the softest of kisses to her mouth - so like the one they had shared those many years ago beside his spinning wheel.
"You have me forever, dearie," he vowed with a smile.
He hadn't realized the weight that had been pressed against his chest until she answered his smile with one of her own. It lifted from him, freeing him, when he loosened the clasp of the chain and dropped her ring into his palm. And, with a racing heart, he slipped it back into place on her finger, the gold band glinting back at him with all the hope he ever needed.
"I love you, too, Rumple," she said, sealing her promise with another kiss.
He swallowed the little squeal she made when he lifted her up and set her on the counter before him, settling himself between her legs. Her giggle turned into a moan when his hands dropped to push her skirt up her thighs, his hands splayed over her legs as she started to squirm.
There was no hesitancy now, not after the reassurance that he was still hers, however battered and worn their relationship had become over these past few weeks. She loved him; that was all that mattered. She loved him, and by the gods he was going to worship her like she was one of them, to make her feel as cherished as she was to him.
His hands glided over her skin with certainty, seeking all those small places that made her shiver and cry out with pleasure. When his fingers brushed against the treasure between her legs, he buried his face in the crook of her neck so he could feel every vibration from her throat as she moaned. And when she screamed his name into the empty shop, her nails digging into his shoulders, he felt her release as if it were his own.
Her breathy, "Rumple, please..." positively broke him, and though they were a mess of tangled limbs as he tried to free himself from his trousers without either of them wanting to let go of the other, they managed somehow.
Sliding into her was like coming home. Her heat welcomed him, enveloped him, centered him in a place full of love and warmth that felt like salvation in the darkness. His first thrust set them both alight, groaning against each other as sweat beaded along their brows. He had his nose buried in her hair as she cradled him to her, the two of them clinging to each other as they moved in hasty sync, their pleasure building as they ascended that peak, and in the end he lasted long enough to feel Belle clench around him before he emptied himself inside her, her inner walls milking him for all he was worth.
They didn't move for a long time afterwards despite their being in the center of his still-open shop, both half naked, disheveled and breathless. There was no where in the world he would rather be than in Belle's arms, her heart pounding against his chest in time with his and his eyes watching the way the moonlight danced over their intertwined hands, making their wedding rings sparkle like Belle's eyes when she told him she loved him.
"We'll find another way," she said quietly as she kissed the top of his head.
"Hm?" he hummed lazily.
"To bring him back," she clarified. "We'll find another way. I can't lose you, Rumple."
And though in his heart he knew there was only one way to bring their son back, Rumplestiltskin nodded, his eyes on her ring as he lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her delicate fingers.