#forestiyari

It’s a kind and innocent question, one born out of pure curiosity. But it makes Emma tense as the cold sensation of dread and understanding hits her suddenly. She looks sharply to her right, where her husband had grown uncharacteristically quiet as the conversation had moved into the territory they now found themselves in.

Killian runs his tongue along his bottom lip, eyes intently staring into his own wine glass. Emma can see he’s trying to form his words carefully, his hook gently starting to brush back and forth over her knee where he’s had it resting. When he finally looks up, that small self-deprecating smile of his firmly in place, there’s an accepted sadness in his eyes that shoots right to Emma’s heart.

“I wish I could say either way,” He pauses to drain the rest of his wine, furrowing his brow as he swallows. “Alas,” Killian gives a small shake of his head as he leans forward to deposit the glass on the table before making to stand up. “There’s nothing to elaborate on in that regard.” He steps behind Emma’s chair, pausing a moment to place his hand on her shoulder and rest a kiss atop her head. She closes her eyes, reaching up to squeeze his fingers.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he finishes quietly, heading out of the kitchen.

Emma looks over her shoulder to watch him move down the hallway in the direction of the bathroom. It’s not until the soft click of the door closing behind Killian follows that the tense silence around where she remains sitting with her parents is broken.

“Oh Emma, I am so sorry.” Emma turns back to find her mother looking regretful. “I didn’t mean-”

With a shake of her head, Emma leans forward to place her wine down besides Killian’s empty glass. “It’s okay, mom.” When Snow shakes her head to refute, Emma holds up her hand. “Really, you couldn’t have known.” She offers her a smile, albeit a small and sad one, before glancing to the floor as she rises to her feet. She jerks her thumb over her shoulder. “I should probably go…”

Snow nods quickly, standing as well. “Yes, yes, go check on him.”

From where he’s remained sitting, scowling slightly following the unpleasant revelation, David nods as well. “And if he needs anything…”

Emma smiles more fully as the rest goes unspoken. “Thanks.” She turns and follows the same path her husband had gone down. Coming to a stop at the closed bathroom, she presses herself up against it and quietly listens for a moment.

When only silence follows, she gives the wood a light knock. “Babe, it’s me. Can I come in?”

“Aye, of course.” Killian replies instantly from the other side, his voice as soft as hers.

Emma grabs the knob, twisting and pushing the door open just enough for her to slip inside and ease it closed behind her. Killian is seated on the edge of the tub, watching her with a raw expression. Regret and embarrassment are heavy in his blue-eyed gaze.

“I’ll apologize to your parents…” He says helplessly, attention dropping to the floor. His thumb brushes over the bottoms of his rings, a habit of his when he’s nervous or agitated.

She steps over to him, stopping between his legs and brushing her fingers through his hair. He looks up to her sadly. “Killian, you have nothing to apologize for. It’s nobody’s fault, just…” She shrugs and shoulder and frowns. “A bad topic… which I probably should’ve realized. In fact, this whole day, with the party...” She glances up sharply, the self-focused anger from before rising up.

His hand is instantly on her hip, squeezing reassuringly. “Hey,” His soft, yet firm, tone brings her attention back down to his. “As you’ve just said, this is nobody’s fault.” A brief look of disgust flashes over his face. “At least not the fault of anyone here.” He pauses, catching his own darkening thoughts. He closes his eyes, pulling in a deep breath. His thumb rubs on a continuous loop over the fabric of her shirt bunched at her hip.

When she sees blue again, there’s a calmness Emma had only come to see in him since they’d grown close. “My past is what it is, for good or bad.” Killian licks at his lips and tilts his head. “And regardless of any of that, it all pales in comparison to my right now.” The affection she sees looking back at her makes her feel like she’s on fire in the best way possible. “What I have here, with you, and your mum and dad, and Henry…” He shrugs a shoulder. “That’s what matters.”

“Doesn’t mean the past doesn’t suck to remember,” Emma argues. “And that you don’t feel sad about it, which also sucks.”

“Aye, well…” Killian shrugs again, pushing himself up and wrapping his arms around her. She does the same to him, standing up on her tiptoes and burying her face against his neck. “I’ve grown quite used to the feeling.”

Emma squeezes him tightly. “But you shouldn’t have to.” She whispers fiercely, protectively, wanting nothing more in the world in that moment than to erase all the pain that has plagued this man who would, and had, moved heaven and earth to erase hers.

----

And he didn’t have to, Emma realizes one Saturday morning when she finds herself inexplicably awake far earlier than is normally acceptable for a weekend...or ever. It’s been a week since her brother’s birthday party, and the uncomfortable turn the evening had taken, and she finds she hasn’t been able to let the thing go.

Because Killian shouldn’t have to carry the burden of his sucky past, especially when it’s a part of his past he had next to no say in. She almost smacks herself in the forehead for it taking her a damn week to realize she can erase the pain. Or at the very least, give him a memory for once that can overwrite a lifetime of nothingness. If Killian can move heaven and earth to bring her unending happiness, Emma Swan sure as hell can do the same for him.

Throwing back the comforter, Emma glances wildly around the room for her haphazardly discarded pajama pants from the night before. She finally sees them folded on the dresser she shares with Killian and it only increases her desire to do right by her man. Because of course he had wordlessly picked them up and neatly tucked them away that morning before he’d headed off before the sun was even up to tend to the Jolly Roger. Because that’s what Killian Jones does. He takes care of her.

Emma is determined to take care right back. She quickly moves to the dresser and hastily throws the cotton pants on before throwing open her bedroom door and making a beeline down the hallway to her son’s room. She doesn’t even second guess herself as she yanks open his door just as dramatically as she had her own and flings herself down onto his bed.

“I wanna throw Hook a birthday party,” Her voice is practically booming in the early morning quiet.

Henry jerks and groans at the interruption to his sleep, blinking owlishly at her from behind a mop of too-long hair. “Wha-?” He mumbles in confusion.

Emma brushes the hair back from his eyes. “Killian. He’s never had a birthday party before. Never had much of a birthday at all. And I wanna fix that.”

Pushing himself up on his elbows, Henry turns his head to squint towards the clock. “What time is it?”

“Time we give our pirate a party he deserves.”

Another groan echoes deep from within her teenager as he finally realizes just how early it still is. “Mom!” He flops back against the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s not even eight-thirty!” He peeks one eye open to glare at her suspiciously. “Were you and Hook up drinking rum again last night?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “No.” Then she frowns and shakes her head. “Okay, yes, maybe a little.” At Henry’s third groan, she swats at his shoulder. “But I’m not drunk. I promise. I’m just-”

“Disgustingly in love with Captain Hook and hate how unfair his life has been and feel the need to fix it right now despite it being ass-o’clock on a Saturday morning?” Henry offers, hiding a wide yawn behind his hand. Emma quirks an eyebrow at his sass and his choice of phrasing. He merely shrugs in response. Deflating a little, Emma realizes maybe she is getting a little too far ahead of herself. Maybe it is too early on a Saturday to be thinking about a birthday party for a pirate who truthfully doesn’t like a lot of focus thrown his way and maybe…

“Ugh, fine!” Henry sighs loudly, sitting up again. “Operation Bottle Bash… I’m in. Just… please stop looking like grandma when people insult the idea of hope, okay?”

Straightening, Emma grins and nods. “Deal, kid.” Then she frowns. “Bottle Bash?”

Henry snorts. “‘Operation Pirate Birthday’ might give it away, mom.”

She squints at him and then nods in acquiescence, an eye roll thrown in for good measure.

“Can I go back to sleep now?” Henry questions pleadingly, turning the Charming mopey face on her this time.

Emma sighs and nods again. “Yeah, okay. Sorry for waking you up like this, kid.” She leans in and places a kiss to his forehead. “I just really like him, ya know?”

The teen turns on his side away from Emma. “Because the marriage and uncomfortable couch makeouts while I’m home haven’t given that away.” He mumbles into his pillow.

Swatting at the back of his head lightly, Emma gets up and makes her leave, making sure to close his door once more. Once in the hallway, with her desire to do something for Killian momentarily sated, she suddenly feels the earliness of the day creeping back up and decides Henry has the right idea about getting a little more sleep in. She returns to her own bed, not even bothering with undressing this time, and tucks the covers snuggly around her shoulders.

She’s just about asleep when the sound of pounding feet precedes the sudden bouncing of her bed. Emma flips over, staring wide-eyed at her son as he flops down next to her.

“I can’t get back to sleep, so you owe me cartoons and poptarts while the breakfast sheriff isn’t home.”

The Charming pout is back in full force on his maturing face and it’s Emma’s turn to groan. She buries her head into his hair and sighs. “Yeah, fine.” She relents, earning a cheer from her son. She manages to pull back in time just as he springs up and out of the bed, the kitchen his new destination. “But I get dibs on the last brown cinnamon sugar!” She calls after him, throwing back the comforter once again.

----

Considering their man of honor is a centuries old former villain who has never had a party in celebration of him in his life, it’s surprisingly easy for them to put together something that Emma is certain he will love. It helps that she knows him just as well as he knows her. He’s really not that hard to please - the people he cares about, good rum, good food, entertainment worthy of a pirate captain such as he is. That all comes together really well, especially when people actively start volunteering to help out. It pleases Emma to no end that, despite what he may still believe from time to time, Killian is loved by the people of Storybrooke.

The hard part, it turns out, is keeping the whole thing as quietly under wraps as they can from Mr. Perceptive himself. It was obvious from the get go that the whole thing needed to be a surprise. That, for it to be right, Killian had to not suspect a thing. Because if he did, the whole ‘still believes he’s not worthy’ thing would come into play and Killian would go to great lengths to put a stop to it. Because to him, it wasn’t necessary. Emma needed him to not know what was coming so she could really show him just how much he mattered and how necessary the whole thing was.

Only, Killian Jones always seems to know what is coming. Especially when it comes to his Emma.

“I know you’re up to something, Swan.”

She minimizes the ‘rum party drinks’ search tab she is perusing, glancing over the top of her glasses and the screen of her laptop, which is resting atop her bent legs, to find her pirate leaning casually in the doorway to their bedroom.

Emma blinks innocently. “Is that so?”

Smirking, fingers fiddling with the end of his hook, Killian nods. “Aye.” He pushes off the doorframe and slowly starts to make his way towards her. “I know you’ve got this whole town in a frenzy. Everyone has a task, as is only expected of an operation put forth by that precocious offspring of yours.” He lowers himself onto the bed, pinning her with his hooked-arm against the mattress. “Everyone but your own husband.”

She hums curiously at his observation.

Killian hums back in a playful mock. “You don’t need to do this, Emma.” He cuts right to the chase, one eyebrow quirked as his expression turns serious. “I told you this,” He reaches up and brushes a wild strand of hair that’s fallen from the messy bun she’s thrown it up into behind her ear. “Is all I need.”

Taking his hand in her own, Emma presses a kiss to his palm. “And maybe I need to do this for you?” She watches his lip quirk up slightly on the left side. “Will you let me keep doing this for you?”

He stares at her intently before lifting both eyebrows and shaking his head. “If I must.” He teases on a sigh, which causes her to laugh breathily. She accepts the kiss he leans in to give her a moment later.

But then pulls back as another important question comes to her.

“And you’ll still act surprised when it happens?”

Killian wrinkles his nose as something seems to occur to him. “When is it even happening? You already know I honestly couldn’t tell you-”

She puts a hand to his lips. “Answer my question, pirate.” Her own eyebrow jerks up slightly.

“Aye.” He mumbles with an eye roll. “I’ll feign surprise for the sake of this mad hamlet.” At her satisfied grin, Killian gives her his own ‘answer me’ stare. “But I reiterate, how can you know where to begin?”

Emma shrugs. “Is that important?”

A quiet moment passes between them as Killian searches her expression for something. He finds the earnestness he’s looking for and tilts his head to the side in acquiescence. “I suppose not.”

“Good.”

He nods, looking out the large window that faces the harbor. He squints in thought after a moment. “One more tiny question, if I may?” His blue eyes find her green and she raises the eyebrow once more. “Miniscule, really.”

Emma can already sense something behind his words. “Yeah?”

Scooting up the bed, moving more onto the mattress, Killian presses his forehead to hers. He braces himself with his hand on the headboard over her head so he can lightly tap his hook on the corner of the laptop still resting on her thighs. “Is this important?” He whispers huskily.

Biting at her bottom lip with a grin, Emma shrugs nonchalantly. “I suppose not.”

“Good.” Killian growls before gently shoving the laptop sideways onto the bed beside her and crushing his lips against hers.

-----

“He’s having a really good time. Looks really happy.”

Emma flinches as her mom’s voice breaks her from her observation of her husband. She glances from where her attention’s been focused on Killian on the other side of their living room to the woman now casually taking up a seat next to her at the kitchen table.

“Considering he’s probably ninety percent rum at this point…” Emma joked and Snow snorted into her glass of wine.

“I mean it, Emma.” Her mother gives her a serious look. “You took an unfortunate moment and turned it into all of this,” She gestured around them and the party that was in full swing. “And gave hope to something Killian always considered a lost cause. You’ve given him a good memory in place of only bad ones.”

Blushing, Emma shakes her head, waving a hand while she sips from the cup of ‘grog’ she’s holding in the other. “He’d do the same for me.”

“Yes, he would.” Snow replies matter-of-factly, without hesitation.

It causes Emma to grin outright.

“He’s not the only one who’s happy,” Snow lowers her voice and reaches out to give Emma’s knee a squeeze. “And that makes me happy.”

Emma nods in response. “Me too, mom. Very happy.”

“Who’s happy?”

Both women glance up to find a pirate swaggering his way over to them. Emma feels like her face is gonna split in two, her grin now making her cheeks ache at the sight of Killian Jones, most feared pirate in any realm, smiling goofily down at her with a ridiculous party hat perched precariously atop a head of wild dark hair more disheveled than usual.

“Looks like you, babe.”

Killian beams and nods, than holds out a finger as the movement makes him stumble a little. “Aye, that I am....” He clumsily eases down onto his knees in front of her and shuffles his way until he’s swaying between her legs. “And you know why?”

“Why?” Emma toys with the ends of the hair hanging over his forehead.

Wrapping his good arm around her waist, Killian rubs his nose against her cheek. She thinks he meant to brush it against her own nose, but the gesture still makes her heart flutter nonetheless.

“Because my gorgeous, stubborn, beautiful, amazing Swan was determined to throw an old pirate bastard a birthday party,” He mumbles, placing a sloppy kiss to her jawline before pulling back. Emma reaches out to wrap her hand around the back of his neck to steady him as he does. “Even though we don’t know when the bloody hell he was even born.”

Emma sees Snow’s eyes go wide and gives a minute shake of her head to indicate ‘not right now.’

Oblivious to the exchange, Killian laughs. “Also, Dave is so hilariously drunk.”

“Just David?” Snow teases.

Killian turns and points at her. “I can handle my rum, mum.” He breaks out in a grin again. “That rhymed.” A groan follows as he squeezes his eyes shut. He flops down onto his butt, and drops his head against Emma’s stomach. “Bloody hell, I am so hilariously drunk.”

Emma smiles lovingly, even as she knows she’s now likely on pirate babysitting duty for the rest of the evening, and adjusts the hat on her husband’s head. “Guess I know how to throw a helluva party, huh?”

Killian pulls his head back to give her a loving smile of his own. “That you do.” He turns and presses a kiss to her jean-clad thigh. “Thank you, my love, for not giving up on this.” He rest his cheek where he’d just kissed and looks up to her again. “On me.”

For the first real time since that night at her parents house, Emma feels the weight of falling short of doing right by Killian lift off her shoulders. It may have taken her a little time to get to that right place, but she’d gotten there nonetheless. And the man smiling dopily up at her is definitely a memory she’ll carry around instead.

A giggle pulls Killian’s attention back to his surroundings and he looks over at his friends cuddled up in the corner of the sofa, Mary Margaret smiling as David kisses her neck and whispers something in her ear. Killian’s stomach drops, and he chances a glance at Emma in the opposite armchair. Her eyebrows are tugged down in a slight frown as she watches TV, but he thinks its more from concentration than irritation at their friends’ affectionate display.

If things were going as he wished, he’d be cuddled up with Emma, kissing her and whispering sweet nothings in her ear as they watched movies with their friends. But, with the ten feet of space between them, it most definitely was not. He looks back at David and Mary Margaret, jealous of their happiness as David puts his arm around her and smiles.

Killian’s phone vibrates beside him and his heart leaps at the sight of Emma’s name.

David needs to get better lines, how many movie nights have we heard him mutter “honey, you’re so beautiful”?

He looks up to see her rolling her eyes with a grin, and he grins back.

Why fix something that isn’t broken? Clearly the line is working for him ;)

Eww, you make it seem like my brother has game when clearly MM is the only woman it’s ever worked on

Killian sends back a couple of laughing emojis and smiles when he looks back up at her. Emma smiles back, a genuine smile this time, not just a grin. She looks away to type something else and he feels the vibration seconds later.

Can I come over to yours after?

Of course, love.

He always says yes, and yet every time she comes over and spends the night it gets harder to act like he’s just secretly fooling around with his best friend’s sister and nothing more. Because it is more, he just isn’t sure Emma is ready to handle that.

He was going to feign tiredness to leave as soon as the movie was over, but with Mary Margaret announcing that she was staying over at David’s he knew they wanted both he and Emma gone just as much as they wanted to leave. They all say goodnight and Emma tiredly shuffles out of the apartment with him until they’re in the hallway and she exhales, smirking as they quickly head into his apartment.

Emma’s lips are on his as soon as the door closes, and he instantly reacts, reaching for her hips and pulling her flush against him. His cheeks warm as she giggles, and he presses his forehead to hers, sighing into her lips at finally being able to hold her.

‘It’s becoming increasingly difficult to be in the same room as you and not touch you, love.’ Killian murmurs, coming down from the high of their brief but passionate kiss.

‘That’s part of what makes sneaking around so fun.’ Emma replies, but Killian feels himself deflate a little at her words.

It had been fun sneaking around in the beginning, after their hands touched passing round the pizza boxes at David’s one night and suddenly Emma was no longer David’s little sister to him. Emma had blushed at the noticeable electricity that passed between them in that moment, but there was a challenging twinkle in her eye that made him grin the entire night until she kissed him in the kitchen, a heated, messy kiss that ended far too quickly when they heard David approaching down the hall.

It had spiraled from there, with stolen kisses and heated glances while around their friends, leading to Emma sneaking into his apartment afterwards to continue what they had started. They hadn’t labelled what was going on, and Killian wondered if it was simply a friends with benefits situation for Emma until she had told him Mary Margaret thought she had a boyfriend.

‘Well I wasn’t going to tell her it’s you.’ Emma had said, which had him continually questioning whether she did actually consider him her boyfriend. One that no one knows about and never goes on a date with outside of his apartment, but still, the sentiment would be nice.

Two months had passed since things between them changed, and he was restlessly itching to define their relationship and tell their friends. Emma, on the other hand, was determined to keep things between them a vague secret.

‘So, I was thinking about coming over here for Christmas, if that’s okay?’ Emma asks him, sliding off her boots and sauntering over to the couch, throwing him a look over her shoulder.

‘You’re not spending it with David?’ Killian asks, clenching his jaw at the noticeable waver in his voice. He kicks off his own shoes and joins her, smiling when she immediately spreads a blanket across their laps and cuddles into his side.

‘He’s going with Mary Margaret to visit her parents. Usually David and I go home to visit Ruth, but she passed away earlier this year. I just thought, seeing as you don’t have family out here in America to spend Christmas with, we could be together.’ Emma replies, and he is relieved to hear a waver in her voice too.

‘Aye, love. I’d like that very much.’ Killian says softly, kissing the top of her head and she hums happily.

‘Can I share something with you?’ He adds a moment later, and Emma lifts her head from his shoulder to look at him.

‘Of course.’ Emma replies, a soft and encouraging smile on her lips.

‘I don’t really have any family, not even back in England. My mother died when I was young, and my father left not long after that. I had my brother Liam though. We were close, but sadly he passed away last year. Truthfully, it’s part of the reason I decided to move out here. There was nothing there for me anymore, so I wanted a fresh start.’ Killian wonders if the tips of his ears have gone red, already feeling his cheeks warm. He doesn’t share easily, particularly things about his family, but Emma has a way of making him want to open up.

‘I’m sorry, Killian. It must have been hard losing your brother.’ Emma murmurs, gently running her hand through his hair. The gesture soothed him and calmed his resurfacing grief and he impulsively leaned forward to kiss her. It was soft and sweet, so different to their usual heated, passionate kisses. Usually, if their kisses were on the softer side, Emma would nibble or tug at his lips, but this time she didn’t, and he was grateful for her gentleness in the moment.

Killian soon feels Emma begin to fall asleep and he gently picks her up and carries her to his bed. She mumbles something but is asleep before he can get her to change into the pyjamas she leaves in his bottom drawer. He changes into his own pyjama pants and climbs into bed beside Emma, scooping her into his arms with a sigh.

He had met Emma eight months ago, when his new neighbour David invited him over for beer and a quick lesson on American football. Emma had invited herself into her brother’s apartment, mumbling and cursing over her latest bail bonds target as she grabbed a beer and joined them. She had smirked when he offered his hand for her to shake, tilting her head as she heard his accent. Killian had found her fascinating from the moment they met, but once David had told him she was his sister, he found himself biting back the many flirtatious comments that were on the tip of his tongue every time Emma was around.

He had soon learned about Emma’s past, her time in the system and various foster homes until David’s mother adopted her. He had also heard about Emma’s checkered past when it came to relationships, with David making several bitter comments about Emma’s first boyfriend and how he had been no good for her. Killian often overheard Emma and Mary Margaret discussing her dalliances with other men, the names Graham and Walsh frequently being mentioned by Mary Margaret and Emma swiftly ending the conversation. It was clear that Emma wasn’t particularly fond of opening up either, and he found that she appreciated him not pushing for personal details.

Killian had most certainly been attracted to Emma from the moment they met, but he had not expected to end up falling asleep with her in his arms several nights of the week. He kisses her cheek and turns the lamp off, wondering when he’ll work up the courage to tell her how he truly feels.

‘So, I know eggnog is the traditional holiday drink, but I thought we’d both prefer rum.’ Emma says with a smile when he opens his door on Christmas morning to find her with a bottle of rum in one hand and a wrapped gift in the other. David was already with Mary Margaret and her parents two hours out of Boston, and Killian could sense that Emma was far less tense than usual. He wondered if sneaking around made her anxious too, even if she claimed if was fun and made things more exciting.

He takes the rum and sets up a couple of drinks in the kitchen while Emma puts the gift under the tree next to the box that contained hers.

‘You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.’ Emma calls from the living room, and Killian shakes his head with a soft smile.

‘Of course I did, love.’ Killian replies as he brings through their drinks. There’s a beautiful patch of red on both of her cheeks as she sits on his couch under the blanket, looking over at his tree, and more specifically the gift underneath it.

‘Besides, you got me one.’ He adds teasingly, and Emma raises an eyebrow.

‘Well, I got David something because he’s my brother, and Mary Margaret is practically my sister in law. I couldn’t not get you something.’ Emma shrugs, as if he was an extra friend she had to consider and not the man she had been seeing for the past two months. He didn’t take it personally though; Emma often acts aloof when it comes to acknowledging her feelings.

‘Would you like to open it now?’ Killian asks, but Emma shakes her head and shuffles further into the couch.

‘Later, after we eat. That’s what we used to do with Ruth.’ Emma explains softly. Killian nods, joining her on the couch and putting his arm around her as she grabs the remote to look for a movie on TV.

‘Do you think David is going to propose to Mary Margaret today?’ He wonders as Emma settles on A Christmas Carol.

‘Why? What do you know?’ Emma immediately questions and Killian laughs, kissing her cheek affectionately and watching her soften a little at the gesture.

‘Nothing. It’s just that they’re off to a romantic small town for the holidays, and I’m sure you know better than I do but David seems rather sentimental at Christmas, and with how much he loves Mary Margaret, it just makes sense.’ Killian tells her, watching her expression and she mulls over his words.

‘Well, if he does, will you be my date to their wedding?’ Emma asks, and he chuckles, despite desperately trying to figure out if she’s joking or not.

‘Aye, Swan. The best man and maid of honour make quite the pair.’

‘That’s rather presumptuous of you.’

‘You’re David’s sister and I his best friend, I think it’s safe to assume we’d take those roles.’

‘You never know, David might be really close with Steve from down the hall.’

‘And if he was, you’d probably be over there instead of here, but fortunately for you David invited me over for beer all those months ago.’

Emma kisses him then, and he’s surprised to feel that it’s another slow and gentle one like several nights ago. She had showered before coming over, the fragrant scent of her shampoo intoxicating as her hair brushes against him. Her skin also smelled like vanilla and Killian finds this time its him turning the kiss more passionate as she wraps herself around his senses.

‘I love you.’

Killian freezes, realizing that he didn’t say the words, he heard them.

‘Oh god, I’m sorry I-’ Emma fumbles, pulling away from him in embarrassment. He catches her wrist and she looks back, cheeks red and eyes glazed with tears, ready to run. Killian gently tugs her back to him, pleased that Emma concedes easily. It tells him she doesn’t want to run, it’s just her instinct to and he understands that. She buries herself back under the blanket and avoids his gaze, which also tells him she meant it and it wasn’t just a slip of the tongue in the moment.

‘I love you, too.’ Killian tells her softly, curling her hair behind her ear as he tries to ignore the somersaults of his stomach.

‘Killian, you don’t have to-’

‘Emma, I love you.’ She gets it that time, her eyes wide as she looks up with an expression of hope. Emma smiles and rests her forehead against his with a light laugh.

‘I’ve been pretending this was just casual, but you made that rather hard.’ She says humorously, and Killian hums in agreement.

‘Truthfully, I’ve been concealing my feelings for you since the moment I met you. David was my first friend here in America, and I thought it wrong to pursue his sister, particularly one he was so protective of. But I don’t want this to be a secret, Emma. You mean more to me than just someone I’m sneaking around with, and I’d like to be able to be with you around our friends and go on dates.’ The words tumble from his mouth with ease now that the hardest part is over, but he still looks over her expression for a hint of hesitance or regret.

‘I do too. It’s stupid, but I didn’t want to tell David and Mary Margaret because I know that they want this for me, so they’d make a big deal about it, and then there would be all this pressure and I didn’t want that. I really wanted this to work between us, and I’m just glad I got to fall in love with you without thinking too much about what would happen.’ Hearing her say those words again makes Killian grin and he can’t help but kiss her again.

The kiss is somewhere in between the heated passion of their early encounters and the gentle softness of their more intimate moments, and to Killian, its perfect.

Eventually, Emma slides down the couch and rests her head in his lap as she curls under the blanket to watch TV again. It all feels so normal and domestic, like they say they love each other every day.

They laugh over Christmas movies and kiss and embrace, murmuring words of love that make them both smile bashfully. Once they’ve eaten Killian’s well-prepared Christmas dinner (that Emma complimented him on without a hint of teasing, which made his chest tighten with happiness) they return to the couch, only this time Emma’s eyes continually gravitate towards the gifts under the tree.

‘Go ahead, Swan.’ Killian chuckles, nodding towards the tree. Emma blushes but eagerly retrieves the two presents, handing hers to Killian to open first.

‘My wrapping skills are non-existent, I know.’ Emma snorts, eyeing the gift with embarrassment.

‘It’s the thought that counts.’ Killian replies, raising an eyebrow with a smile. He tears a hole in the paper and rips from there, unraveling it to find a book. He turns it over to the front cover and his heart leaps. It was a vintage copy of Peter Pan, with beautiful gold lettering on the old cloth binding.

‘I found it in a vintage bookstore a couple of hours away. You had mentioned about liking the story as a kid, so I thought an old copy would be cool.’ Emma explains, and Killian hears the undertone of self doubt.

‘Emma, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much.’ He says softly, brushing the front cover with his fingers delicately as he looks up at her. He sees it then, the love in her eyes when she looks at him and it makes his stomach swoop.

‘You like it?’ She asks nervously, and he reaches for her hand.

‘I love it, and you.’ Killian replies happily. Emma smiles and he blinks away tears before turning to her gift. He wishes she had gone first now, his gift not nearly as sentimental as hers. Emma unties the bow wrapped around the box and lifts the lid, her eyebrows rising in surprise. She unfolds the jacket and looks it over and he freezes when her face hardens.

‘You wear your red leather jacket a lot, so I thought you’d like a red wool one for the winter.’ Killian says quietly, wondering what was wrong. Emma holds it close to her chest and he notices that she’s crying.

‘Emma, what is it?’

‘It’s stupid.’ She laughs lightly, which eases his concern a little, but he remains confused.

‘I sort of think of my jacket as armour. I bought it when I was going through a rough patch in my life and it represents protecting myself, putting up walls and toughing up. I know that sounds ridiculous, but after years in the system with not a lot of personal stuff, I tend to get sentimental about even small things. Anyway, this jacket is like a softer, warmer version of mine, and I don’t know, to me it feels like a new beginning, one of letting my guard down and letting people in, you in. God, this actually sounds insane when I say it out loud.’ Emma scoffs, but Killian gently moves the box and jacket off her lap and puts his arms around her.

‘Not at all, love. That makes perfect sense.’ He murmurs, kissing the top of her head lightly.

‘Well, thank you, I really love it.’ Emma sighs, shuffling to get closer to him. He knows there’s a lot to unpack in what Emma shared, a lot of which he suspects Emma won’t delve deeper into for a while, but he’s very much in this relationship for the long haul and ready for whenever she decides to share more of her past with him.

They spend the rest of the night finishing off the rum and reminiscing over their close calls with getting caught by David and Mary Margaret (Killian vividly recalls the moment they were fooling around and David barged in, causing Emma to dive behind the couch and he to quickly rearrange his clothes). They agree to tell their friends, although with one condition; if the two return home engaged, they keep it a secret for at least another week, and if not, they tell them tomorrow. Killian has a strong suspicion that they will need to sneak around for another week, but he thinks he can handle that.

Their friends return with big smiles and a ring on Mary Margaret’s finger.

Emma gently brushes her hand with his as she passes him a glass of champagne when they celebrate. He catches her eye and smiles, silently agreeing to keep the secret a little while longer.

‘So, I take it you guys finally told each other how you feel.’ Mary Margaret says softly, and he turns to see Mary Margaret and David watching them with matching grins.