Once Upon a Time 1. Alternative Treatments

**Title**: Alternative Treatments

**Summary**: Physical therapists were supposed to be big, hulking, obnoxious men not smiling brunettes with gorgeous legs and eyes so blue they practically glowed in the dark.

_A/N: This is purely Rumbelle smut, so if you're looking for plot, you've come to the wrong place_

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Physical therapists were supposed to be big, hulking, obnoxious men. Former jocks, who blew a knee out in college and then reluctantly channeled their dashed dreams into helping others.

They were _not_ supposed to be smiling brunettes with gorgeous legs and eyes so blue they practically glowed in the dark.

Mr. Gold's first time visiting the office of one Dr. French was completely and utterly against his will. After continuous begging, his son Baden had finally gotten him to agree to consult a doctor about his deteriorating knee. The old injury had been flaring up more than usual, making it impossible to walk without a crutch.

His mistake had been letting Baden set the appointment for him. Rather than a visit to the hospital, Bae had sent him to a private practice, which promised a 'gentler and more personalized' treatment. After the fourth offer from the receptionist of complementary homeopathic tea, he'd been ready to shove that gentle, personalized treatment right back where it came from.

That was before he'd met Belle French.

Instead of the painful poking and prodding he's gotten from past doctors, which usually left his entire leg sore for days, Belle had prepped his knee with a heating pad and examined it gently. There had been no awkward and clinical silence, as she'd asked him about his shop and even got him talking about Bae. She'd sent him off with a heating pad to wear at night, and a surprisingly ornate cane to help him manage on his bad days. It was by far the best treatment he'd ever received, and he would have been happy to be on his way, except for one thing.

Mr. Gold, the monster with the hardest heart and meanest attitude, was smitten.

Initially, he'd thought it was just a healthy response to a beautiful woman, but that quickly changed. After his second visit, he'd found himself still smiling at one of her jokes _hours_ later. The warm feeling in his stomach was impossible to shake for the rest of the day, and surprisingly he was less than inclined to try. After his fourth visit, he would more often than not catch himself day dreaming about the dimples in her cheeks and the smell of her hair - and then in his less innocent musings, about how it would feel to have her legs wrapped around his hips and her breathe on his neck.

It was easy to tell himself that his frequent visits to her office were only to make sure that he was in the best shape possible to keep up with the hardships of raising a teenager. But really, he knew his visits to Dr. French's office twice a month were becoming less and less about his knee, and more about stealing another half hour of smiles from her.

Today's visit would be his tenth in less than five months, and while his leg felt fine – actually better than it had in almost twenty years – he was counting down the hours until his appointment.

As usual, he refused the herbal tea that the damned receptionist nearly spilled on him in her nervousness, and patiently awaited his turn to be called back for his examination with Belle.

"Nick?" His head snapped up at her voice, and he offered her a rare smile as he climbed to his feet.

She had decided to tempt him today, wearing a flowing white sundress instead of her usual yoga pants and t-shirt ensemble. He swayed a bit unsteadily at the sight of her, but righted himself soon enough, hoping to pass it off as more knee problems.

Her smile was as radiant as ever as she called to him again, "Come on back."

He followed her to the exam room in the back, finding it difficult not be mesmerized by the swish of her skirt against the back of her thighs. She turned to let him walk in first, and his eyes shot up her face as quickly as possible. It wouldn't do to have her realize where his gaze all too often wandered. He knew she wouldn't appreciate an old cripple ogling her in her workplace. A compliment however, was well within his rights as a friendly patient.

"You certainly look lovely today Dr. French." He said, seating himself on the examination table.

"One of these days, you're going to start calling me Belle like the rest of my patients." She teased with a warm laugh. "But thank you, I had brunch with my father this morning, so I'm a little fancier than usual."

"Well it suits you dear." He repeated and took the blush that stained her cheeks as his reward.

"So, what have you done to yourself this time Nick?" She asked, flipping open his chart.

"Nothing too terrible," He responded, "Just overworked it yesterday and wanted to make sure everything was in order." He gestured to his knee.

"Well let's take a look, shall we?"

After rolling up the leg of his pants, Belle did a quick assessment, having him flex and relax the muscles and then running her fingers over the damaged tissue. This was always the best and worst part of his checkups. To have her hands on him, even in this methodical and removed way, was heaven. He could imagine the clinical brushes of her fingertips were fervent caresses and the look of concentration on her face was one of restrained passion.

These were lovely memories to take with him for later, but it was pure torture in the moment. Passionate caresses or not, it was still her fingers on his skin and her breath puffing on his leg, and it took every ounce of his self control to keep from hardening at her touch.

It didn't help that he could practically see down the front of her dainty little dress with her bent over like that. She was all creamy skin and soft curves, and so much more of her was available to his questing eyes than usual. When one brown curl escaped from behind her ear to tumble over her shoulder, he had to forcibly restrain his hand from tucking it back.

"It doesn't look too bad." She reported, her gaze still fixed on his knee. "If the pain gets worse then use the heating pad, and remember to do those stretches we talked about."

She looked up at him then, teasing him with the warning. She must have seen some of the heat in his eyes though because her expression was no longer professional detached for a moment. It became somehow more intense. He couldn't begin to interpret what it meant, but he was guessing it was somewhere between outrage and revulsion at his unwanted attention.

"Stretching, of course." He agreed, trying to bring them back to the safe topic of medicine.

He stood from the table and was nearly done rolling his pants back down when Belle took a bold step forward, just far enough to invade his personal space. His breath caught in his throat but he managed to look down at her with what he hoped was only friendly curiosity.

"Your knee looks fine Nick." She stated seriously. "Is that really the reason you came to see me?"

"Well, I-" He panicked, barely able to put two words together. "I wanted to make sure that the healing process was still on track." He managed to stammer out. Yes, good. That sounded like a convincing answer.

"Your knee has been in great shape for weeks now." She persisted. "I thought maybe you might be coming back because you wanted…" She trailed off, but her eyes stayed trained on his.

She knew. For a horrifying moment, he could feel nothing but the mortification of her discovery. That was until she took another small step forward, putting them nearly chest to chest. She seemed to be opening a door for him – the very door he'd been dreaming about for months. But surely not, he was only imagining things.

He cleared his throat and made sure not to shift his expression by even a fraction, lest she see the desperate hope in his eyes. He wouldn't be able to bear it if he confessed only to have her reject him.

Whatever Belle was looking for, she apparently didn't find it because she took a step back and broke their intense gaze. "I'm sorry, I'm being silly and incredibly unprofessional," She sniffed, chin down and embarrassed. "That you would actually think of me- that you would want– it was stupid." She scolded.

Gold was determined to get his hearing checked, but if he was wrong then let him be wrong. He leaned forward, closing the gap between them and pressing his lips to hers. He hoped the small gasp she made was one of pleasure, but didn't have much time to think on it before she was stepping forward again, sinking into the kiss.

It was a small kiss, slow and timid, but no less intense. It seemed to go on forever, and yet when they slowly pulled away, it was too soon for him.

He pressed his forehead to hers, drunk on her taste.

"Belle." He quietly breathed her name.

A smile stretched across her face, but she kept her eyes closed. She reached up and curled her fingers through his hair, and he couldn't help the quiet sigh that escaped him at that contact.

"Say it again." She sighed, leaning in close enough that he could feel the brush of her lips against his.

He made a small inquisitive noise against her mouth. Anything, he'd say anything she wanted if she just let him stay like this.

"My name." She answered his unspoken question with a nip at his bottom lip. "Please."

The last part came out almost as a whimper, which shot straight to his groin. Any chance to stop himself from hardening was gone after that.

"Belle." He groaned, pulling her closer and slanting his lips across hers again. She responded with equal fervor pressing closer and tugging on his hair. His fingers dug into her sides, almost hard enough to bruise, but she only sighed and tightened her grip as well.

He could feel himself losing control, but he dismissed that concern in favor of slipping his tongue past her lips to find out if she tasted anything like he'd imagined. She tasted even better. There was the fruity taste of what was surely one of the lollipops that she handed out to 'good' patients, but also something else that was entirely Belle.

The noises she was making were driving him crazy, but when her hands slid down his chest to rest at his belt he felt some semblance of control return to him.

With a great effort, he ended their embrace, grabbing hold of her arms to keep her in place.

"No, I'm - I'm doing this all wrong." He said.

Belle let out a breathy laugh as she tried to lean in for another kiss, "Believe me, you're doing it right."

"No, I mean," He searched for the right words when she looked no less confused. "This isn't how this is supposed to go. I'm supposed to ask you to dinner. Take you out properly." He explained. "We're supposed to talk about your favorite books and drink expensive wine."

"I actually more of a beer girl." She replied, still smiling.

"Well, uhm, I'm sure we can-"

"Nick, just stop." She interrupted with a laugh. "You know what I really like?" He raised an eyebrow in question. "You."

She tentatively ran her hands up his chest again, fiddling with his tie before pulling at the knot to loosen it.

"Every time you visit, I have to stop myself from touching you. All I want to do is kiss you." Her nimble fingers did away with his tie and moved on to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one. "I see the way you look at me, and I know you want me too." She brushed small kisses across his cheek and moved so she was practically whispering to him. His eyes fluttered shut as she gave his ear a soft bite. "But you won't ask, so I have to wear silly dresses and accost you on an exam table to get you to do something. Anything." She sought out his eyes again as she got his shirt open, her fingers hovering before him, asking permission.

Gold let his own hands slide from her arms to the bottom of her skirt, bunching the material into his fists. "You wore this for me?" His voice deepened with lust.

She bit her lip and nodded. On anyone else the expression would have seemed shy, but on her it was downright sultry.

"I want to go to dinner with you and drink overpriced wine with you, believe me." She laughed, her voice husky. "But for right now, can't we just skip a few formalities?" Her request seemed even more appealing as her hands met the bare flesh of his chest.

Their eyes stayed locked and a heavy moment hung between them. Then Belle's tongue swept across her lip and he was undone.

He pulled her hips forward pressing them directly against his and attacked her mouth with a new ferocity. This kiss was all tongues and teeth and grasping, the tentative passion of before gone, replaced by something fiercer and harder to control.

Belle was the one who turned them around, hopping up on the exam table herself, and pulling him to rest between her legs. He was hard as rock now, and even that small contact made him groan into her mouth.

When she pulled away suddenly and pushed him back, a sharp stab of disappointment ran through him. Surely she wouldn't stop now after she'd begged him to continue this. He was relieved when she only leaned around him towards the door to press the intercom button on the wall.

"Ashley," She spoke breathlessly, and he loved that he could make her sound that way. "Cancel my next appointment please, I'm trying an alternative treatment with Mr. Gold today." He leaned forward and bit her neck, causing her to let out an undignified squeak before turning the intercom to silent.

He continued his trail of kisses along her neck, and his brain cut out when she started to move her hips against his.

Suddenly there was too much space between them. His pants, her dress, the very air between their bodies was in the way.

One hand fisted in her skirt, drawing it up past her hips, while the other reached under it to skim his fingers against the edge of her panties. Her enthusiastic response was all the direction he needed to then slide his fingers under the lace to meet her slick heat. She cried out at his touch, and a second brush of his fingers had her bucking against his hand.

"Nick!" She clutched at him, begging for more. When he hooked one finger inside her, she all but screamed.

Her hands reached down, trying to undo his pants but she was too far gone to manage it. He tore his hands from her to struggle with his zipper and free himself, and then there was nothing between them, just skin on skin. He felt her wrap her perfect little fingers around him, guiding him, and they both groaned when he slid inside her.

He took a moment to kiss her tenderly, and appreciate the fact that this was actually happening. His beautiful little doctor actually wanted him. An impatient wiggle from her prompted him to move, pulling out and then plunging back in. He knew then that there was nothing as heavenly as this moment, right now. The ecstasy of being inside Belle, of hearing her call out his name was as close to perfect as he'd ever get. His thrusts became quicker, and his mind foggier. He was so close, but he needed her to finish, needed to feel her come and scream for him.

"Yes…" Her fingers had turned to claws on his back, and her legs were wrapped around him. "More!" She begged.

He snapped his hips forward, driving himself deeper, and she keened for him. Over and over, he pushed her towards that peak, sure that he would come apart from the pure rush of sensation. He felt it when she fell over the edge. Her walls grasped him tight and she bit into his shoulder to muffle her cries. He rocked against her, trying to draw it out as long has he could, but one, two more thrusts and he followed her over, biting back a groan.

When he could finally focus on something other than the white hot sensation of bliss, he lifted a hand to push her hair from her face, and watched her eyes open, still hazy with pleasure.

"I can't imagine a more _alternative treatment_ than that, dearie." He teased.

She laughed, and the sound was accompanied by a warm, glowing sensation in his chest. "I've probably done more harm to your knee than good today." She agreed.

"I guess I'll just have to make another appointment." He suggested.

"I guess you will." She leaned in for a last sweet kiss before hopping off the table and straightening her dress.

"In the meantime," Gold proposed, "I hear the Italian place on Maple Street serves the most expensive wine in town."

Belle's smiled, while writing something down in his chart. "How about you take me Friday night? After all, I still have to tell you what my favorite book is." She handed him a piece of paper, with what he presumed was her personal phone number on it.

"It's a date." He answered, taking the number and finding it impossible to keep a smile off his face.

"Yes, it is." She said, passing him his cane.

As he limped out of the office, strictly avoiding all eye contact with Ashley – they hadn't exactly been quiet - he thought about the different stretches he'd have to run through tonight to ease the now more pronounced pain in his knee. Maybe he could persuade Belle to come over to try a slightly more aerobic remedy. It was very important to keep your physical therapist informed when trying new treatments after all.


	2. Relief

**Title:** Relief

**A/N: _I originally wrote quite a bit more to be included in Alternative Treatments, but sadly some parts were edited out. But since I've got such nice people asking for more, here you go. __This is obviously set during the early days of their appointments, before exam room sex happens._ **

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Nicholas Gold had never considered himself a particularly passionate person. The only thing he ever felt very deeply about was his son, and that was to be expected since it was generally agreed upon in Storybrooke that there had never been a sweeter or more amiable child in the world than his Bae. It was impossible not to love him.

As far as just enjoying the day to day however, Gold was removed to say the least. He did take a small amount of amusement from frightening his tenants when they were late with rent, but that was simply business

However, the one thing Mr. Gold took real pleasure in were his visits to his new physical therapist, Dr. French. Being hopelessly in love with your doctor had its downsides, but normally he was content to admire her from behind the solid wall of their professional relationship.

Today however, had not been normal.

He'd actually had a good excuse to go in to see her this time, having slipped on a patch of ice – he swore Regina purposefully delayed having the streets sanded just to see him fall - and landed on his bad knee.

The problem was that his pain had spread not only to his knee, but also to his upper thigh, making Dr. French suspect a pulled muscle. He'd been more than a little uncomfortable when she had ordered him to strip off his pants rather than rolling them up like he usually did, but he understood she needed access to the damaged muscle. Things had taken a turn for the worse when she'd kneeled down in front of him, and he thanked whatever deity was up there that she was so focused on his leg that she couldn't see his eyes widen and then slam shut at her first touch.

As her hands had ghosted over his knee, he'd started listing the U.S presidents to keep his mind elsewhere as was his normal approach to these exams. He hadn't even made it to Lincoln before the exercise became useless as she started to massage the muscles in his thigh.

That was when he'd chanced a glance down at her, which had been the real mistake of the afternoon. All he could focus on were her brown curls brushing against the inside of his bare leg and her lush red lips, only inches away from where he wanted her most.

For the next seven minutes and sixteen seconds, he fought tooth and nail to keep his body from responding to her. When she finally finished and sent him off with painkillers and strict instructions to rest for the remainder of the day, he'd practically bolted out of the office.

Once back in the safety of his own home, the image of her kneeling before him in only his boxers refused to leave him alone.

Helping Bae with his homework was a short and temporary distraction, as was their dinner and his son's whimsical television show about wizards. But with Bae now asleep and his newest rental contract not keeping his mind occupied at all, he knew nothing short of a cold shower would get him to sleep tonight.

Blasting the water the freezing levels, he stepped under the icy spray and waited for it to do its work. After a few minutes useless minutes of shiver, it seemed even this unpleasant remedy was no match for Belle's allure. How was he supposed to fix this problem if not even a piercing cold shower could soothe his desire? Sighing, he switched to hot water, resigned to finish his shower and go to bed sexually frustrated as ever.

He hadn't intended for the warm water to feel like a caress as it hit his chest and dripped lower. Gold swallowed hard as the memory of Belle smiling up from between his legs surfaced in the front of his mind, making him now fully erect.

He wasn't sure when exactly when he'd taken himself in his fist, but his own touch proved to be exactly what he'd needed all day. Inhibitions tossed aside, soon he was pumping away under the hot spray to thoughts of his beautiful doctor.

This time, instead of a usual polite examination, her hands quested upwards, further and further until she was rubbing him through his boxers. She pulled his straining length out from beneath the fabric and gave him one of her brightest smiles, this one containing a hint of something darker and more devious in it.

One small lick of her luscious lips and she was taking him in her mouth, her perfect little tongue driving him mad as it swirled around his tip. Her angle changed as she took him deeper, and she finished the pull with a strong suck that had him thrusting into her mouth.

"Belle!" He whispered, his hand moving in fast strokes, the hot water dripping down his body only making the illusion more intense.

She moaned low in her throat, making her lips vibrate around him and sending shock waves down to his toes. Somewhere along the line she'd added a hand under her mouth, tugging on him in tandem with her soft sucks.

"Ahh," He gasped, focusing on his fantasy hard enough that he could almost believe his hand was hers. One last image of Belle's blue eyes looking up at him, her lips swollen as his cock thrust into her mouth, was enough to end him.

He groaned as he spilled himself into his hand, leaning against the shower wall, the waves of pleasure shaking him to his core. He rode the surges of pleasure out, and with a few more tugs he was spent.

When he finally came back to himself, he knew he'd crossed a line. How was he ever going to face Belle at their next appointment, much less let her run her hands over him again? Perhaps it was time to seek out another doctor – one at the hospital this time. One who didn't encourage lust filled thoughts and self-indulgent touches in the shower.

As he climbed into bed though, he knew he'd never leave Belle's practice. She was everything he'd ever wanted in a doctor and a woman, and in another few weeks he'd find himself right back in her office, wanting her desperately and pretending not to.


End file.

Once Upon a Time, Romance