Beefcake and the Beast

“No one’s as slick as Gaston~!” The tavern sang in perfect harmony.

“No one likes dick like Gaston,” LeFou added under his breath.

I shot him a glare from across the tavern, silently screaming at him to stay quiet.

The Harlots linked arms and spun in circles around me. “No one’s as quick as Gaston~!” I winced at their obvious need for singing lessons. Or clothe gag for a quick fix.

“No one needs to get a wife like Gaston!” My mother slammed open the tavern door, silencing the singers.

I straightened my collar. “Hello mother,”

She hobbled up to me and pinched my ear, bringing me down to her level. “You’re twenty-three, Gaston! Far too young to still be single.”

“And you’re far too old to still be alive,” I muttered as I eyed her leathery wrinkles.

“Have you picked out a suitable wife?”

I wrestled my ear free, soothing it as I answered. “Yes, actually.”

“Who?”

“Well, you know that girl who doesn’t have any interest to marry someone? It’s her.”

“Belle? You can’t marry her! She’s too strange.”

I snapped my fingers. “Oh darn. That is such a shame because I was really feeling the feelings of… sexual attraction to women with her and all that…” I glanced away, “stuff that straight men such as I do feel… yes.” I lied as LeFou face palmed in the corner of the room. Nonetheless, I continued. “I simply cannot marry another!”

“What about these girls?” My mother gestured to the three Harlots with stuffed bras and yellow smiles.

With a cheeky scoff, I remarked. “These hoes? No way! I mean, just look at what they’re wearing! That dress is so 16th century. I won’t marry someone so tacky.”

One of them gawked at me and tugged anxiously as the ruffles of her dress. LeFou gave me a warning look. Like those dresses didn't cross the line first.

“Since when do you know about women’s fashion?” My mother taunted.

I gulped. “I don’t, it’s just—“

Suddenly—perhaps to save me from my misery—the tavern doors busted wide open, with Belle’s father, panting in the sun’s blinding light. “It’s horrible!” He gasped.

“What is it, Maurice?” My mother asked.

“It’s Belle! There’s a beast! *wheeze* He took her captive and locked her in a tower! *wheeze* Gaston! You must save her!”

“Well, I don’t know if that’s really necessary—“ I began.

“Of course he will save her!” My mother cheered. “But!” She waves a finger at Maurice. “In return, you must promise her hand in marriage to my Gaston!”

“I—I don’t know. Belle doesn’t want to get married…”

“Then I guess she doesn’t want to be saved either!”

Maurice bit his lip before saying. “Fine. If you can save my daughter, you have my blessing.”

My mother clapped her hands together with joy. “Perfect! Belle will become your wife after all, Gaston!”

Between my clenched teeth I agreed. “Great.”

My feet shuffled through the snow and I gripped my arm so tight my perfect nails drew blood. “‘Go rescue the girl’, they said. ‘Go marry the girl’, they said.” I kicked a tree trunk. Snow avalanched down, nearly burying me. “‘Go get hypothermia and die just trying to stay in the closet’, is what they should have said!”

I popped my head out from the snow pile and crawled forward. By the time I reached the crumbling castle, my skin had turned blue and my teeth were moving faster than my mother when she heard the word ‘scandal’. I knocked twice on the oak door because manners, people!

No answer.

Okay, fuck manners, I just wanna get this over with. I stomped inside, letting the packed snow fall off my feet into silhouettes of my shoes on the wooden floor. “Belle?” My voice echoed across the empty castle.

As I continued to move forward, my footsteps rang across the room. That is, my footsteps and the faint sound of claws drawing across the floor. I stopped. So did the claws.

Sweat thickened on my forehead. My breath became heavy as I felt the weight of a new pair of eyes watching me from the shadows. “Hello?” I called out. “Is anyone…” I slowly turned around. “There—“

Shivers of imaginary ice froze my blood as I stared at a seven foot tall monster of a man. Unruly hair jetted out from every inch of this body. His clothes puffed out from the patted masses of his fur. “So… you’re the… Beast.” I squeaked.

He remained silent. I could only hear the quiet rhythm of his breathing. “It’s a… nice castle you got here.”

No reply.

“Look, I’m just here for the girl you have imprisoned. Once I get her, we’ll be on our way and never bother you ever again. And doesn’t that seem fun? Not having to deal with people?? And being able to stay here… alone in your…” I glanced around. “Charming home?”

“You cannot take her,” he bellowed as he took a step forward—obviously invading my personal bubble.

“So, I have this whole thing on personal space so if you can just take a step back—“

“You can only take her place.”

I snorted. “You mean never go back to that homophobic, unfashionable village? Yeah, sign me the fuck up.”

Belle wasted no time in running the fuck out of the castle—and who could blame her, the place was the embodiment of human misery with its lifeless color scheme—but just before she did, she gave me on final look and asked me. “Gaston, are you sure about this? The food is bland and the sheets aren’t even a thousand count.”

“I’ll be fi—wait a minute, this place is a castle! How are the sheets not a thousand? What are we?! Animals?!” I exclaimed.

“Yes,” the Beast grimaced.

“Poor choice of words. My bad.”

“Just for that, here’s your room.” The Beast swung open a door laced with chains.

“Besides, how bad can this place be—” I gasped. “Ew! What color are those curtains!”

“Brown.”

“Eck! That is not brown, that is the definition of disgusting.”

Belle put a hand on my shoulder. “Have fun.” Then she darted away.

I clapped my hands twice. “Alright, Beastie, we certainly have our work cut out for us.”

“We?”

An hour later, I was calling the shots and a weird group of furniture followed me, completing them. “Alright, I want a new rug, new windows…” I smelled dinner. “Ugh, and a new chef.”

A table grumbled. “You try cooking without thumbs.”

“You try eating your food with taste buds,” I remarked. “Oh right, you can’t!”

The Beast snorted. “What are you laughing at, Beastie.That mess you call ‘fur’ is next.”

His jaws gaped out. “What? What’s wrong with my fur?”

I lightly touched it, feeling years of oils harass my soft skin. I know this is 1790s France, but there are still standards. “What isn’t wrong with it? Ms. Potts can you please draw a bath?” I gave him another once over. “On second thought, make that two.”

I handed the Beast a towel as he exited the bath and averted my eyes. “All of the staff are preparing dinner. I’m here to prepare you.”

“Huh?”

“To get dressed. I’m here to help you get dressed.”

“I can dress myself,” the Beast grumbled.

“Yes, but not in style.” I held up a maroon waistcoat and a devious smile.

He sneered and thundered towards me. “Watch your tongue. I am still in charge here.”

“You say that with your lips, but eyes scream the truth…” I sauntered up into his personal space and whispered. “You love the maroon coat and curtains.”

“Why aren’t you afraid of me? Everyone is.”

“Hun, please, there’s nothing scarier than this disaster of a castle before I started fixing it. Now, take the clothes and get dressed.”

Without another word, he took the coat and threw it on. I ruffled my hands through his fur. “Now what are we going to do with this?”

“Nothing.”

“Braiding it is!”

I rested my hands on the Beast’s shoulders as he stood in front of a full length mirror. His eyes locked onto his reflection, mesmerized by his new appearance. A perfectly fitted maroon waistcoat with a tight shirt beneath told the innocent observer there was a seriously buff body underneath those hunks of hair. To manage the unmanageable locks he called ‘facial hair’ that would have—without a doubt—either winded up in the food or with food in it, I twisted it into a french braid. His blue eyes shone out from all the mud-colored fur. “Wow,” he breathed.

“I know. I know. I’m a miracle worker.” I sighed. “I’ve wanted to do something like this for so long. I should have been a hairdresser, not a hunter.” I smiled and rubbed his shoulders. “You look really handsome. Now, come on. Let’s go eat.”

After dinner, I decided to take a small stroll to help digest the first edible food I’ve had since I arrived here. Probably shouldn’t have been in the ‘forbidden’ West Wing. But then again, they probably shouldn’t have called it ‘forbidden’, tempting me like that. I mean, that’s practically a written invitation.

And let me tell you, there were too many shiny things in that wing to not not touch. Especially that rose in a crystal case.

“Woah,” I breathed as I caressed its cover. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s not for touching,” the Beast growled from the shadows. “Get away from it. Now!”

I backed off. “Alright fine. No need to get your underwear in a twist about it.”

He growled at me and continued to march closer. “Relax, Beastie. No harm, no foul.”

His body loomed over me, his furs rustling with every breath. His lips were ajar, and his bared teeth glistened in the candle lights. “H-hey,” my voice quivered and my body leapt back. “Why don’t you calm down a little…”

“Do you know what you could have done?! You could have ruined everything!”

His claws extended from his paws. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up like even they were trying to run away from the Beast. So I did. I bolted into the forest and I didn’t look back.

My frosted breath spilled out in front of me as I charged my way past the crooked tree branches. “Jesus, what’s a guy gotta do to get a horse around here?”

Just as I thought the worst was behind me, my ears twitched at the sound of a wolf’s howl. “On second thought, can I get a gun instead of a horse?”

Their bushy tails flew behind their darting bodies, weaving in and out of their familiar territory. Oh, how the hunter has become the hunted.

Acting on instinct, I grabbed the nearest branch and whacked the first thing with eyes I saw. It was a rabbit. Damn. The poor thing was a bloody mess now. And the smell of blood only made the wolves more agitated.

The first one lunged at me. Quickly, I stabbed it in the neck and barrel rolled away. Another snapped its jaws and I jammed a rock in them. A third came from nowhere, sinking its teeth in my calf. I yelped and tried to wedge it off with the branch. Shockingly, it didn’t work. I glanced as the blood stained snow as a shadow leapt over it. It was… the Beast.

His claws ripped into the wolf's tender flesh. He tore one into shreds and threw its mangled body at a pine tree. The pack moved in sync now, all attacking him at once. One latched onto his shoulder, tearing through the waistcoat, as the Beast tried to shrug it off. “Run!” He bellowed at me.

I gritted my teeth. “No fucking way!”

I sprinted towards the rabbit and ripped it in half, letting the guts and blood spray. Waving in front of the growling wolves’ noses, I taunted. “You want it?!” I chucked it over a rotting log. “Then fetch!”

The pack dashed off towards the rabbit carcass, I grabbed the Beast’s claw and yanked him back towards the castle. “Let’s go, lesbians! Let’s go!” I screamed.

We caught our breath in the ballroom covered in dust and haunted by the spiders of webs past. “Ah ha. Ahaha!” I broke down into a fit of laughter. “That was a close one, wasn’t it?”

The Beast glared at me.

“Alright, maybe still a little too early for jokes. But not for first aid.” My eyes fixed on the blood oozing from his shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you fixed it.” I offered him my hand.

Cautiously, the Beast took my hand in his and followed me.

The next night, I sat on the steps of one of the ballroom’s twin staircases and stared at the empty, glossy floor. A cruel darkness rested over the once luminous room. The bandages on my leg itched, but I refused to scratch. I sighed as the Beast took a seat beside me. “This is depressing,” I announced. “This place was made for dancing, not collecting dust.”

“It’s hard to throw extravagant parties when everyone hates you.”

I stood. “Well, good news, now everyone minus one hates you.” I extended my hand. “And this one would like to dance.”

“No,” he stated. “Absolutely not.”

With a smirk, I said. “I think you mean, absolutely yes!” I grabbed his claws and tugged him to his feet.

One by one, the candles on the walls flickered to life as Lumiere—not one to miss a romantic opportunity—raced to lit them.

“It’s impossible to dance with this bulky body,” the Beast told me. “Plus, we’re injured. It’s not a good idea.”

“Injured, but not dead,” I corrected as gentle piano music filled the void of silence. “Besides, even being a ghost wouldn’t stop me.” I smiled at him. “So it shouldn’t stop you.”

He opened his mouth again, but I spoke in his turn. “Ah! No excuses. Just follow my lead.”

I pressed his body close to mine. His fur tickled my skin as I flung my head back and laughed. And out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Beast smile.

Sweet music notes lifted our heavy spirits, drowning out our past sorrows. Making us forget about curses or the disapproving world we both lived in. Nothing outside this perfect little castle existed.

I rested my head against his chest.

I think this was the first time I’ve ever… felt truly at peace.

Or in love.

Slowly, the song came to an end and we were left with nothing else to do but stare into each other’s eyes. I smiled, and I think he blushed under his fur. Carefully, I raised up on my tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss on his fluffy cheek.

In the background, there was a soft gasp as I stepped down and gold sparkles swirled around him. Suddenly, the big, hairy Beast I had come to love was watered down to a muscular man the same height as myself with a slimmer body that was much easier to hug. So I did. “Damn,” I whispered in his ear. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more perfect.”

It took Belle one week to collapse from guilt and return to the castle with a fresh basket of rolls. Then, it took her three double takes to make extra sure it was the same castle. I had really done my work. She handed me the basket. “So, you seem to be fitting in here. Meanwhile, they’re going crazy back in the village without you. After all, their main hobby was singing about how great you were.”

I removed the cucumbers from my me-time and gazed up at the too-smart-for-her-own-good town girl. “This place is a dream. I love it here.”

She spotted the transferred Beast in the rose garden, tending a new bush. “I’d imagine you love the ‘Beast’ even more.”

“Yes, I do—wait, how did you know I was gay?”

“Honey, it was quite clear you were over compensating for something. I just thought it was a small dick.”

“Thank you for that unnecessary detail.”

She shrugged. “Hey, it’s in the silence where the weirdest conspiracies speak. So, what are you gonna do about the rest of the town? They’re all waiting for you to return with a story about how you bested the Beast.”

“A story, huh? Well, I don’t want them to come for me. So, tell them I died.” I glanced at my Beast. “Because I’m certainly in heaven.”