Gaston | ON HOLD

ELEVEN

"Is everything all right here?" Shoving past the drunk, Gaston placed a hand on LeFou's shoulder.

Of course Gaston was used to being the tallest man in the room, but it was evident by the look on the other man's face, that he was not used to being amongst the shortest.

It didn't matter though-- the man was too sauced at the moment to be intimidated.

Cocking his head to the side, the drunk cracked his neck and then his knuckles. It was supposed to make him look tough. Or so, that's probably what he thought. But to Gaston, it just looked ridiculous.

"Your little friend here, spilled his drink all over me," the man grunted, letting his arms settle across his chest.

"Yes, and I'm pretty sure he's already apologized for that," Gaston snapped.

"I don't want an apology," he hissed, his breath wreaking of stale cigarettes and whiskey.

Gaston had to take a step back as the man's foul odor enveloped him. "Then what is it you want?"

"To crack some skulls."

A cocky, lopsided grin tugged at Gaston's lips as he began rolling up his sleeves. It had been a while since he'd had a little fun. But suddenly Lefou stepped forward, sizing the man up.

"I can take care of this myself, Gaston."

He didn't even come close to standing head to toe with the drunk, head to stomach was more like it, but it was good enough for LeFou.

"You're crazy," the drunk shook his head. "Tryin' to start a fight with me?"

"Oh, I don't start fights," LeFou corrected the other man. "But you better believe, I finish them."

Gaston pinched the bridge of his nose as the other man violently came at LeFou. Surprisingly, his best friend was more than ready with a well-aimed kick to the groin, and the man went down. With pain and shock frozen on his face, Gaston hoped this would be the end of it. But as he turned towards the man's friends, he realized this would not be the case.

Chairs were thrown, furniture broken, people screamed as they frantically tried to get out of the way. The tinkling of glass could be heard smashing against the ground as tables were over turned. Without a doubt, the entire tavern had erupted in to a full scale barroom brawl.

Gaston got a few punches in before three of the man's friends surrounded him. As two of the goons held down his arms, the other threw punches at his gut. The hunter tried to catch his breath in between shots as he watched LeFou continue to be tossed around like a rag doll. Needless to say, the fight wasn't going very well.

"Gaston!" LeFou cried out as he was lifted and slid across the top of the polished mahogany. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"Losing," Gaston called back rolling his eyes. Wasn't it obvious?

He caught LeFou's gaze as another punch rolled off to the left, just above his kidneys.

"I can see that!" LeFou screamed, ducking from a punch that might have permanently relocated the position of his nose. "But what I'm trying to figure out, is why?"

Gaston gave LeFou a confused look, but suddenly the chubby man burst into song.

"No one fights like Gaston, douses lights like Gaston. In a wrestling match nobody bites like Gaston. For there's no one as burly and brawny--"

LeFou trailed off as Gaston looked down at his arms.

"As you see, I've got biceps to spare." The hunter smirked as he finished the rest of LeFou's song for him.

Suddenly he brought both arms forwards, the two morons sharing a look of disbelief moments before they were slammed into each other. As the third friend attempted to deliver another blow, the hunter easily caught the man's fist.

"My turn," Gaston growled, before easily overpowering the man.

With his fist caught in Gaston's grip, the third friend went down to his knees, whimpering and sniveling like the little girl he was. Or not. The hunter was sure even his Morgan would have put up more of a fight.

Snarling in disgust, he dropped the man's hand. He had better things to do with his time, like moving on to save LeFou.

A hard hitting punch took out guy number four, while number five was easily tossed halfway across the bar. The moron let out a shriek as the neon sign sparked from the impact of his body. Gaston watched with a cocky smile then turned to dispose of the sixth friend with a clap of his hands.

The idiot reached out to strike the hunter on the jaw, but with years of honed reflexes, the man didn't stand a chance. Gaston dodged the blow and with a laugh, the hunter plucked the moron's hand from the air. A wicked gleam shone in his eye as he rolled back the man's sleeve.

Moments later, the friends collected their wounded. The last guy cradled his arm to his chest as he walked out. A perfect purple imprint of Gaston's teeth, adorned his skin.

Clasping LeFou on the shoulder, Gaston smiled down at his friend. "I needed encouragement. Thank you LeFou."

The man's chubby little cheeks flamed with a deep shade of crimson. "Aw, it was nothing," he tried to wave it off.

As they got ready to leave, both men glanced about the trashed bar. "Any ideas where Tom might have gone?" LeFou asked.

"I saw him duck out the door towards the beginning of the fight," Gaston frowned. "Clearly the man is a coward," he stated. "I know Morgan just chalks it up to jealousy, but I'm seriously starting to have doubts concerning her partner."

LeFou nodded. "If it's all the same, I better go check on him anyways. I'll stay at his place tonight."

Gaston eyebrows knit together. "And why's that?" He asked.

"Because when you go home and explain to Morgan what's happened, I know she won't be happy."

"So?" Gaston shrugged.

With an all knowing smirk, LeFou shook his head.

"I know how this ends," he informed the large hunter. "When Morgan's not happy, your not happy. Then it turns into angry sex, followed by make up sex and after that it just becomes sex, sex, sex!"

Gaston chuckled, but he couldn't say the little man was wrong. "Alright," he agreed. "Maybe you're right."

"Maybe would be the understatement of the year," he countered. With a hand on his hip, LeFou sauntered out of the tavern. "Just make sure to wrap it before you tap it!" He hollared back.