It’s been eight weeks since their first date, just one night after their first kiss, and everything has been perfect. She’s never been so happy, day in and day out, and Killian has been a wonderful and respectful partner to her. The only problem is that they still haven’t told their friends, and he won’t stop humming.

“Did you know Michael Buble covered this song, Swan?” He asked her as he messed with a piece of tape, and she rolled her eyes.

It’s not as if they’re trying to keep it a secret. Both of them have been in relationships that have ended badly, and they agreed that it might be nice to keep things to themselves for the first little while, but they weren’t purposely not telling anyone. It’s just that no one has asked.

They all celebrated Thanksgiving together in the loft a few weeks ago and still no one noticed. It isn’t like Killian’s being shy with the way he flirts with her, and she certainly isn’t shy about returning it, but no one seems to give them a second glance. Perhaps that’s why they’ve gotten so comfortable with publicly and excessively flirting with each other and then sneaking off to bump uglies in his bedroom.

Perhaps that’s why hanging the mistletoe in the living room has led to Emma waiting for him in his room wearing nothing but her festive apron.

She sneaks across the hall into his room almost every night. Some nights it’s not for sex, but most nights it is. It’s just that he’s really good at it. She tries to brush from her mind the amount of practice he may or may not have had throughout his life, because she honestly doesn't care. Whatever it took for him to get like that is good enough for her.

She sees that her text has been read, then hears a slight commotion outside the door before it swings open much too quickly and she’s met with her grinning, already-slightly-hard boyfriend. She giggles. “That didn’t take long,” she says playfully.

“Well, when I get a distress call from a fair maiden, I’m on the spot.”

“I’m not distressed.”

“No? I thought you needed help with untying these…” he says, suggestively trailing his fingers along the bow tied at the front of the apron, just under her breasts. “Isn’t that what the photo you sent me was supposed to convey?”

She hums out a giggle again, tugging on the collar of his shirt and dragging him onto the bed on top of her. “I needed help hanging some more mistletoe,” she mumbles between kisses, “in here.”

“Over this?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the side of her breast exposed to the chilly air. “Or perhaps we should hang it a bit… lower…”

He trails his fingers down the front of the apron, tugging the bow undone and letting the ties fall to her side. “How low?” She asks breathlessly as he drags his mouth down, down, down.

He hums a throaty laugh into her skin and it makes her shiver. She lets her eyes slip closed as he drags his hand up her thigh, stopping to squeeze her ass firmly then moving swiftly to bury his head under the fabric of the apron and nip at her exposed flesh. She doesn’t hesitate to lift her knees, opening herself up to him easily and planting her heels on his back as he dives in with little preamble.

Did she mention that he’s good at this?

So good, in fact, that she has to grab his pillow and shove it over her own face to keep from shouting and alerting the others of their activities as he dives two fingers into her and curls them just right.

The only thing keeping the apron from falling off of her is the straps tied around her neck, and she’s about to tug them open so that she can remove it and see his dark hair between her legs, moving her hand from the pillow to behind her neck, when the door flies open.

“Killian, have you seen Em— ooooh, shit.” He stills under the apron. Emma stills under the pillow. She pushes it harder to her face in hopes that it suffocates her so that she doesn't have to face Ruby. “I see. I won’t tell her I saw you and… whoever this is,” she says pointedly, aggressively, and slams the door.

He hums in thought against her sensitive clit and she squeezes her thighs around his head. “Dammit, Killian,” she says exasperatedly. She expects him to stop and to pop his cocky face up from between her thighs, but he doesn't. She tosses the pillow aside so that she can look down at him, though he’s still hiding below the apron as he continues his ministrations against her. “You should,” she starts, but she can’t finish. Well, actually she can, and she likely will if he doesn't stop, but he really should stop, shouldn’t he?

He doesn't stop. He continues to curl his thick fingers against her just so, sucking and nipping at her clit until she’s putty in his hands. She presses her heels harder into his back to hold him in place, begging him not to move from exactly the spot that he’s in, then shoves the apron away so that she can grip his hair. “Fuck,” she breathes out. “Don’t sto—” He doesn’t stop until she’s seeing stars. Or maybe they’re silver bells. Whatever.

He laughs lightly as he crawls up her body, sucking on his fingers and licking his lips because he absolutely wants to drive her completely insane. When he reaches her head, he presses a soft kiss to her lips and runs his weakened left hand along the side of her face as best he can. “How the hell did she not know it was you?”

“Because I had my face shoved into a pillow to keep quiet.”

He laughs again, kissing her temple as he settles next to her and drapes his arm over the waist. “Well, it didn’t work very well in the end there.”

“I didn’t notice.”

“I’m sure the others did, love.”

She shrugs, snuggling into his side and biting against his collarbone. “Maybe we should go out there. Although I did lose my clothes, and I’m pretty sure Ruby’s probably waiting in my room.”

“You lost them, did you? Is that what’s happened here, you minx?” She giggles softly against his chest, the breath coming from her nose moving the hair just slightly. “Are you alright with them knowing?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah.”

~~~~

Ruby isn’t waiting in her room, so she’s able to safely get dressed and join the small party after applying a bit of concealer to the side of her neck. Killian isn’t there, but she assumes that he’ll be on his way.

“There you are, sweetie,” Mary Margaret says as she re-enters and is tugged into the kitchen. “Ruby and I need to talk to you.”

“Emma!” Ruby calls once she’s in the kitchen, and she rushes over to her friend and takes her hands. “You okay?”

“Fine, why?”

Ruby sighs and Mary Margaret runs a hand comfortingly up Emma’s arm. Emma smirks slightly but holds it together as Ruby says, “I don’t want you to freak out, but I just walked in on Killian and the girl he’s been boning. I’m so sorry.”

“Ruby—”

“We really didn’t want you to find out like this, Emma. We know you’ve had feelings for him and you’ve seemed so happy lately, but he’s been sleeping around with some woman. David and Will say they hear them almost every night.”

They both look so concerned for their friend, and Emma finds it sweet aside from the fact that they’re completely off base. “It’s alright,” she says with a soft smile.

“No it isn’t, it’s completely insensitive. That’s why we sent David in to talk to him.”

Emma laughs and shakes her head as she makes her way to the fridge for some eggnog. “I’m sure that’s not necessary.”

“We just want what’s best for you, Emma. Ruby told me about a few weeks ago when you almost kissed, and if the two of you didn’t work out, that’s fine, but he shouldn’t be rubbing it in your face.”

“I think I’m the one rubbing it in his face,” she deadpans, and Ruby scrunches her thick, perfect brows together in confusion.

“What, the fact that you’re single?”

She laughs, then hears David’s booming voice coming from down the hall as he makes his way towards the living area and she knows that he’s pissed.

“Would it kill you to take this seriously, Jones? This is my sister we’re talking about here.”

“Aye, mate, I’m well aware. I believe I’m taking things very seriously.”

“Then at least have the decency to be discreet!” He shouts.

“David,” Emma tries.

“No, Emma, I’m tired of Killian being a huge asshole to you and having no regard for how you might be feeling. It’s not a secret how you felt that night the last time we played that stupid game.”

“I know it isn’t.”

“So don’t you want him to quit flaunting his new fling when he knows you live across the hall?”

“David, I’m his new fling.”

His face falls. He goes from angry to irate in a matter of seconds as he absorbs Emma’s meaning, turning slowly towards her with his eyes the size of saucers then back around to Killian. “My sister?!”

“Mate—”

“Don’t you mate me! You think you can get away with defiling my sister? My best friend and my sister?!”

“David, honey, just calm down,” Mary Margaret says, making her way around the counter.

“My best friend and my sister!”

“David, he isn’t defiling me! We’ve been dating for two months!”

He freezes. He turns back towards her and she can see the red flush fading as he seems to relax. “Dating?”

“Yes, dating. Like, we’re in a relationship.”

He turns towards Killian again, who looks to Emma and grins. “Relationship?”

“Aye, mate.”

“My best friend and my sister…” he says, as if trying it on for size now, rather than using it as an excuse for second degree murder.

“Right. Dating.”

“You two are dating?” Ruby asks from behind her, and she spins around and smirks.

“Yep.”

“So earlier… when I busted into Killian’s room…”

“Yeah, thanks for that.”

“Oh my god…”

“You guys need to learn to keep it down, then, bloody hell,” Will says from the couch.

Christmas goes off without another hitch.

They try really, really hard to keep it down later on when they pick up where they left off, honest.

Some things just don’t always go to plan.

~~~~

Once her teeth are brushed, she’s able to shower the sweat and regret from her body, cranking the water as hot as it will go as memories from last night flood her mind. Most noteworthy would probably be the fact that she and Walsh broke up, although that was less than surprising and not at all upsetting. The more she thought about him, the more she knew that she was only with him because she felt like she had to be. She didn’t want to be his girlfriend because all of her relationships end badly.

So, when he came over expecting her to need him, and became upset when she didn’t, she knew it was time. She may not have gone at him the way that she did if she hadn’t been drunk and full of feelings of rejection, but what’s done is done.

More memories assault her as she thinks back to being rejected, how that felt, and the nature of why she was rejected. She and Killian were ordered behind the Iron Curtain, and while she suggested that they casually get the kiss over with, he felt entirely differently. I really don’t want to kiss you like this.

Of course, more memories come to her as she picks up her purple shampoo. Killian has always been sweet to her, and she’s always seen him as her brother’s best friend, but she has to face the fact that he is insanely good looking. He’s got those icy blue eyes that rival the color and depth of the ocean, contrasting with his dark hair and fair skin. The way he smirks, all the damn time, literally drives her insane, and whenever he does that stupid thing where he pinches his bottom lip between his right thumb and forefinger, she wonders what it would be like to bite down on it.

She may be attracted to Killian, but he’s always been her brother’s best friend. Sometimes she thinks of him as her friend, too. Like when he makes her coffee in the morning, exactly as she likes it. Or when he drives her to work when it’s raining so she doesn’t have to walk. Or when he goes on runs with her in the park, claiming that he wants to be there to keep her safe from killer waterfowl.

(That last one is a joke. He wants to be there to make fun of her in case another swan decides to attack her so that he can relive his favorite memory. He’s told her this several times.)

The truth is, he’s never been anything less than sweet to her, and to have him reject her drunken-self last night must’ve really done a number on her ego. And now, when she thinks back to what he said in the kitchen, she just feels as though he was taking pity on her because of how pathetic she was being. What I mean is, if I were to kiss you, I’d want it to be more special than it would have been behind the Iron Curtain.

Was he serious? Considering this was daring. Accepting that he was serious about this and genuinely wanted their first kiss to be special will be detrimental to Emma’s ability to pretend that she doesn’t find him insanely attractive. This takes her feelings beyond physical attraction and into crush territory. AKA, serious danger.

Imagine having a crush on your roommate? Yikes.

But a crush on your older brother’s best friend, who also happens to be your roommate? Double yikes.

As Emma makes her way back into her bedroom, the smell of bacon blitzes her again and she feels just how empty her stomach is now. Once she smells the cocoa and French toast, though, the grumbling coming from her can likely be heard throughout the loft.

“Swan?” Killian calls, confirming her theory that her hunger is evident to all. She hears his footsteps coming towards her as he calls to her again: “do you want some breakfast, love?”

Well, here we go. “Only if you’re making it right,” she grumbles with a roll to her eyes.

“Bacon extra crispy, French toast with cinnamon, but not too much, extra butter, cocoa with cinnamon and whipped cream. You think by now I don’t know your hangover food, Swan?”

She tightens her robe around her middle as she takes in the sight of him; black t-shirt and checked gray pajama pants hugging his muscles perfectly. She nods and offers him a small smile as she says, “so you know how to get me drunk and how to cure me the next day, huh?”

He smiles back at her, blue eyes twinkling impossibly. “Aye, that’s right, Swan. Now get dressed and get out here before this gets cold and all my hard work goes in the bin.”

“We don’t call it a bin here, Jones. Honestly, you’ve lived in American for how many hundreds of years now?”

He breathes out a scoff. “Just get dressed, woman. I won’t have you in a robe distracting me from my breakfast.”

She rolls her eyes but listens to him and steps back into her room. Her cheeks are hot and she knows she’s blushing, and hopefully she can blame it on the hot shower. She picks out a new pair of underwear and leggings and a clean sweatshirt, choosing not to utilize a boob prison today. Her boobs deserve the Sunday off.

When she gets out to the kitchen, the table is set and her plate is full of bacon and French toast, her favorite mug filled to the top with delicious, perfectly prepared cocoa. She grins, unable to stop the blush from hitting her cheeks again. “Looks great,” she says, not bothering to turn her attention to him as she makes her way to her usual seat across from hers.

“I hope so, it took me all damn morning. Honestly, you couldn’t have chosen a hangover food that’s easier to make? French toast has to be the most tedious breakfast.”

“And yet I seem to be eating it every Sunday now,” she says, finally looking in his direction and smirking.

“Aye, well, I figure it’s easier to fill you up with eggy bread now than it would be to listen to you complain for the rest of the day.”

Her face scrunches up as she takes a sip of her coffee. “Ugh, do you have to call it that? Again, you’ve lived here for centuries. Just call it French toast.”

He chuckles as he shoves a strip of crispy bacon in his mouth, choosing talking over manners as he says, “eight years, love. I’m really not that old, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” she says with a nod as she takes a bite of bacon herself. “But David’s an old man and you’re his friend. Also, the way you complain about your muscles being sore after you run just makes you sound like you’re 200.”

“Well, I can assure you I am not 200. I’m actually a few years younger than David, thank you very much.”

“Still older than me,” she says with a shrug. He breathes out a laugh and shakes his head, turning his attention back to his breakfast. Then, before she can stop him, she sees him scooping a spoon full of cubed watermelon onto her plate. “Hey, no healthy food allowed.”

“Healthy food is exactly what you need right now, Swan. What did you have for dinner besides the popcorn you threw all over the living room? You’re welcome, by the way, for vacuuming that up for you,” he says sarcastically and with a smirk playing at his lips.

“My hero,” she says with eyes rolling to the back of her head. She wonders briefly if rolling her eyes is a defense mechanism so that she doesn’t have to look at him when his face does that…

“It’s fresh, love. The best money can buy for my Swan. Eat up.” My Swan, she’s swooning.

“Where is everyone,” she wonders as she takes a bite of watermelon. And he’s right, it’s fresh as hell. Shit, it’s delicious.

“David went to church with Mary Margaret, Will hasn’t been home yet. I’m pretty sure Ruby slept on the couch, but she was gone when I woke up.”

“Where did Will go?”

“Home with Sabine.” His mouth is full, and it shouldn’t be hot, but it is.

“Whoa, really? I didn’t even notice they left last night.”

He smirks again, “I’d wager you didn’t notice much, love. You were completely obliterated. Five drinks was all it took, I suppose.”

“Hey,” she whines, “I’m pretty small! Five drinks is a lot, especially when you're the one making them. You put so much damn rum in them, I swear you were a pirate in a past life.”

He hums, “maybe I was. At any rate, you were absolutely smashed. Do you remember much?” Is he testing her memories? Does he wonder if she remembers everything that happened last night? Does he hope she doesn’t?

“Pretty sure I remember everything, although I suppose I wouldn’t know if I didn’t.”

“Ah, so you remember how desperately you wanted to kiss me then,” he says as she chokes on a sip of coffee.

She’s coughing so hard now that she can hardly respond. “I did not want to kiss you, I wanted to win the game.”

“Winning the game isn’t a real thing, Swan. The winner is the person who makes it to the end, who also happens to be the one to drink the most. I’d say based on how you seem to feel this morning, you don’t actually want to be the winner.”

“I’m very competitive,” she says. She wipes her mouth with her napkin and drops it to her now empty plate.

“Aye, love, I know,” he says with a chuckle as he does the same and stands, taking her plate from her and stacking it on top of his own.

“I guess I did kind of ruin the game, though, didn’t I? What with Walsh and everything,” she trails off, standing from the chair and making her way to where he was standing at the sink and lifting herself up onto the counter.

“The game didn’t matter at that point, Emma,” he surprises her again by using her name, which he really only does when he’s being serious. “I’m sorry.”

She draws her eyebrows together and says, “sorry? For what?”

“For everything,” he responds, tapping her legs out of the way so that he can open the dishwasher and place their dirty plates inside before he starts on the pans he used to make breakfast. “I shouldn’t have hit him. It was childish, but when he said that to you… I couldn’t stop myself. I could barely even see straight.”

Right. She knew Walsh had come over and embarrassed her, but she forgot all of the details until now. He called her a slut and before he could step out the door, David grabbed him and Killian swung his fist into Walsh’s jaw.

“It’s okay,” she nearly whispers. She allows herself to glace at his right hand and see the bruises that formed on his knuckles. “Did you ice it?”

“Aye,” he chuckles softly, “you practically forced me to. You were very adamant that I take care of my one good hand,” he says as he smirks up at her. She feels her chest and cheeks go red again.

“I did not say that.” Her voice comes out as weak and small as she feels.

“Oh, you did. Then you practically started crying,” he smirks again as she drops her head into her hands.

“No,” she groans. “This is mortifying. I’m so sorry, I’m sure I didn’t mean it.”

“You told me that you didn’t mean it in a bad way.” She lifts her head slightly and allows herself a glance at his left hand now. “I appreciate you looking out for me, Swan. I know you weren’t trying to be offensive. I didn’t mean to make you feel badly about it.”

“I wasn’t, I’m not. I’m sorry, Killian,” she raises her eyes to meet his, perhaps for the first time that morning.

He surprises her by meeting her gaze and smiling softly, his right hand coming up to pull hers away from her face and then touching her cheek so lightly that she thinks she may have made it up. Her breathing quickens as he says, “it’s alright, love. Thanks for looking out for me.”

Instead of choking over her own breath like she thinks she might, she says, “I don’t ever want to make you feel like I’m treating you differently, you know?”

“Aye,” he breathes out, his words barely over a whisper, his hand falling to hers atop her knee. “You never do.”

Just as she thinks he may close the gap between them and take her lips between his, the front door swings open and her older brother walks in, Mary Margaret following closely behind him.

Killian backs up so fast that Emma nearly loses her balance and falls off the counter, straight into the dishwasher. With a clang, Killian steps forward to steady her and hits his ankle against the door, hissing and cursing.

“Uh oh,” Emma says as she jumps down to his aid.

“Shit, I’m fine, it’s fine.” He groans lightly as he rubs his ankle, and it shouldn’t be hot, but it is. Dammit.

“Hey, you’re up. How was breakfa- are you okay?” David walks in to see Killian hunched over and Emma standing awkwardly, hands out as if she’s trying to will the pain away with magic or something.

“Fine mate. Just walked into the dishwasher.” Emma smiles lightly now, realizing how silly this whole situation was. Rather than focus on the fact that she was sure Killian was about to kiss her, she chooses to focus on how dumb they must look to David and Mary Margaret. She would much rather focus on that than on the fact that her crush, which she didn’t know she had until very recently, may actually be reciprocated.

~~~

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she groans into her pillow as she flops down face first into her bed.

“Me either, if I were you, I’d stop trying to fight it.” Emma lifts her head to glare at Ruby, who sits down on the other end of the bed and flops over as well.

“Of course, I’m fighting it. He’s David’s best friend! That’s insane. Not to mention the fact that he literally lives across the hall from me.”

“Definitely insane, but most likely worth it, girl. Honestly, I thought you guys were already… you know. I’m more surprised that you aren’t.”

“What could possibly make you think that?”

Ruby rolls her eyes and smirks, “Emma, come on. A blind man could see the way he looks at you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s completely in love with you. And you’re not so good at hiding it either, my friend. I’ve never seen someone blush as hard as you did last night.”

Emma sits up, unable to remain still. “So, what do I do?”

Ruby smirks again and says, “Killian,” waggling her eyebrows up and down and giggling. Emma groans again.

“No way! Besides, he’s still getting over Milah.”

“Please! It’s been almost a year since that happened! You don’t seriously think he’s still hung up over her, do you?”

“Well, yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him take a girl home, and he never sleeps out. Obviously, he still loves her and he isn’t over her. First heartbreak and all that.”

Ruby’s mouth is agape and her eyes bug out of her head. “Emma, seriously? Tell me you’re kidding right now. He hasn’t hooked up with anyone because he wants you, not because he can’t get over his ex!”

Emma ponders this briefly. It’s true, she hasn’t known him to be with anyone in months. She doesn’t think he has since she moved in nine months ago, but that couldn’t be right. Emma knew Killian as her brother’s friend before they became roommates, and she always thought of him as a lady’s man, even when he was with Milah. But Ruby’s theory, that he hasn’t been with anyone because he wants to be with her, is almost too much for her.

“Look, before last night, I had no idea I even felt this way. He’s always just been David’s hot friend. This is a lot.”

“Yeah,” she nods, “I know it is, but don’t you owe it to yourself? You’ve really been striking out lately.”

“Thank you so much for that reminder, friend.” She rolls her eyes again.

“I’m just saying, your first boyfriend died and that was tragic. Then it was Neal, and that was tragic in a completely different way. Now Walsh? The guy was a total douche!” She’s right. “Your track record is not good. I wanna see you happy, Emma. You’re my best friend and I want what’s best for you. And I just think… maybe that’s Killian.” Emma throws her head down into her pillow again and groans loudly. “Hey, come on. At least wait until I’m gone before you start picturing-” Emma hits her with a throw pillow. “I mean seriously, if you don’t I will. Even with one working hand I bet he could make a girl-”

“Ruby! Leave him alone!”

“Sorry, sorry! But seriously, how did that happen?”

“You're being insensitive,” Emma says accusatorily.

“I’m just curious, I know he told you. He’s barely told anyone what happened, but he told you, so there’s that.”

“There was an accident when he was in the Navy. Something to do with his Captain, I think. His arm and hand got tied up and crushed. Nerve damage.” Ruby cringes. It is a horrible story, and it must’ve been a horrible accident. Killian’s lucky to have a hand anymore, even it if it just for aesthetic purposes. His arm is so damaged it barely works, and Emma often finds herself wondering what his recovery process was like all those years ago- not that he ever talks about it. “Don’t let him know you know. I don’t even think he meant to tell me, I’m sure he wouldn’t want me going around telling people.”

“So, what you’re saying is, his love for you is so strong that-” Emma hits her with another throw pillow. “Alright, alright. I’m gonna go, okay? I’ve gotta get to work. I’m lucky I got out of the breakfast shift but now I have to do dinner.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks for the pep talk.”

“I expect a full report, got it?”

~~~

“Care for a movie tonight, Swan?”

Emma’s dragged from her thoughts as she pretends to scroll through her Instagram feed when she hears Killian’s voice from across the room. He’s standing near the curtain on the outside of the living room donning another black Henley and gray joggers. Of course the bastard was wearing gray sweatpants.

It’s absolutely pouring outside, and if she’s being honest with herself, there’s nothing she’d like more than to curl up on the couch and watch a good movie. Maybe have a good snuggle… She clears her throat and rolls her eyes. “Fine, as long as you make the popcorn.”

“Is that why you threw it all over the place last night? Because I didn’t make it? It must not have been very good.”

“I told you what happened, and it had nothing to do with you, Jones.”

“Actually, I don’t think you did say what happened,” he said as he made his way into the kitchen and took out his infamous air popper and some butter.

“Oh,” she stood from the couch and followed him, grabbing two glasses and filling them with ice. “Well, I was leaving Walsh a voicemail and the pipes made a sound, so I jumped. Not really that big of a deal. I didn’t even scream like he said I did,” she fibs.  

He chuckles and says, “I suppose he was behaving rather dramatically, wasn’t he?”

“That’s for sure,” she grumbles with an eye roll. She fills the glasses with water and adds lime to hers, then makes for a lemon to add to his when he stops her.

“I’ll just take a lime as well, Swan.”

“You hate lime, what do you mean?”

“Well, as one of my good friends has been reminding me constantly, they're really not that different. I suppose lime has grown on me, over time.”

“I’m your friend?”

“I didn’t mean you, Swan,” he deadpans.

She narrows her eyes and draws her brows close together. “Okay, weirdo. What are we gonna watch?”

He smiles as he takes the popcorn bowl with him into the living room and plops down on the couch. She places the glasses down on the coffee table and sits next to him so that he’s sitting on her left side, just as he always is.

“Don’t you want to watch Dirty Dancing?”

She’s stunned into silence. Of course this man, this perfect specimen of a human, would offer to watch her breakup movie with her without prompting. Of course he would think of that, even when she didn’t.

“Oh, um, I don’t know, I don’t really know if I need to.”

“No? Not even after Walsh?” He seems even closer now, and she wonders how it’s even possible for someone to smell as good as he does right now.

“I mean, that wasn’t really a breakup. I guess it was, but… I guess I’m not that upset about it.”

His voice is so soft and gentle. His hand touches her left knee and he smiles at her before saying, “that’s great, Swan. It would be a pity to see you upset over such an animal of a man.”

She’s still stunned, still silent as she nods back at him. Before she can stop and think, she thinks she’s leaning in closer to him and she thinks she doesn’t mind it, not one bit.

After some time, once he’s put on an episode of The Office and they’ve settled themselves into the couch and eaten their fair share of popcorn, she speaks up. “I guess I’m more upset about what he said to me than anything,” she nearly whispers.

He hums softly and she can see his throat moving as he does, and shit it’s sexy. “That was rather upsetting, although I suppose we already know how I was feeling about it, don’t we,” he says with a soft grin, his eyes crinkling; she literally almost combusts as she nods, completely breathless.

“Yeah, I guess so,” she breathes. She nearly feels her lashes fluttering as he moves impossibly closer. She can practically feel her lips buzzing with how much she wants him to close the space between them and take hers between his. There’s a coil heating in her belly as she looks as his stubble covered face and feels his fingers delicately touching her knee.

“You know during the game, when I said I didn’t want to kiss you like that?”

She can’t breathe, so she nods in response. Before she can think, she sees his eyes fluttering so that they're almost closed as he moves so close to her that if she moved at all they would be touching. Then she watches as he grins beautifully, then his face closes the gap before hers and he presses his lips to hers so delicately that she could barely feel it.

Her eyes close effortlessly and within seconds as he kisses her softly then draws away far too quickly. Her eyes fly open again and she looks at him as if to say what the hell, come back. He listens as he presses himself to her more firmly, pursing his lips into hers and reaching his hand up from her knee to her cheek. She breathes into him and reaches her own hand into the back of his hair, feeling the softness between her fingers and the heat growing hotter in her belly. She can feel his tongue softly swiping between her top and bottom lips, as if asking permission to kiss her more deeply, so she parts her lips ever so slightly in invitation. She feels him suck on her top lip lightly before he licks it softly and she nearly loses it. His hand laces it's way behind her ear and into her hair as she tugs on his lightly before she hears him groan into her mouth, igniting her from the inside out.

She bites down lightly on his bottom lip and feels him stir in his seat as he leans closer to her, pushing softly until she’s laying down on the couch and he’s on top of her and kissing down her neck. She thinks she hears the popcorn bowl hit the floor, spilling whatever was left, but she can’t be assed to care.  Her legs part as he fits himself between them, drawing their bodies even closer together, but somehow not close enough. She thinks he may have bruised her neck slightly, but she doesn’t care. She just keeps carding one hand through his soft hair as the other feels his muscles rippling through his shirt at his back, his chest, his triceps. He meets her mouth with his again and kisses her hard, as if he needs her like she needs him. She’s certain he does, based on the firmness she feels pressing against her upper thigh, and she’s tempted to rut her hips up towards his, but stops herself, reveling in his mouth on hers.

Moments later, they separate and their foreheads touch, his hand coming to her face and his thumb stroking her chin as he smiles breathlessly at her and she smiles breathlessly at him. His lashes flutter once more and he softly touches her cheek before drawing her to him once more, kissing her with a passion that she’s sure she’s never felt before.

When he finally pulls away, she’s gasping for breath, barely able to open her eyes. She thinks she may be dreaming, or dead, until he says, “I meant something more like that.”

She breathes out in a whoosh before saying, “holy shit,” embarrassment immediately taking over as she laughs lightly.

He laughs hard, and she can feel his chest vibrating against hers and she thinks it might be killing her. “Aye, my thoughts exactly.”

“I guess I can see why you rejected me, then,” she breathes out, reaching her hand to touch her own mouth, as if checking to see if it’s still there.

“I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings too much, love. I really wanted to kiss you, I have for a while, but I wanted you to remember it happening afterwards. I also didn’t really know if you were sober enough to actually consent last night,” he laughs. She pushes her forehead up to his and laughs with him some more.

“Probably not.” Who the hell thinks like that? Is that a symptom of adulthood? Emma thinks she should probably stop dating children if that’s the case.

He pecks her lips once more with his and she’s tempted to grab him and pull him back to her, but she doesn’t. Not this time.

“A while, huh?” she asks, and his brows raise as if he didn’t even realize he said that.

“Aye, I suppose so.” He lifts himself off of her and grabs a throw pillow before taking her hand in his and hoisting her back into a seated position herself. “I don’t really know if I should have done that. But I’ve wanted to kiss you basically since I met you and when you said you weren’t upset about Walsh… I guess I just…” He trails off and looks away from her, down at his hands.

“I wasn’t. I’m not. I was going to end it soon anyway.”

“Aye, you said that last night.”

“It’s true.” He looks back at her, finally, and smiles. It’s her favorite smile of his; the one where he grins with all of his teeth and his eyes scrunch up, but it softens after a second. It’s got to be the cutest and sexiest thing she’s ever seen. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Aye, of course,” he says, drawing his dark brows together as he does when he’s concerned, as if he’s worried about what she’s going to ask him.

“Why didn’t you bring anyone home last night? You said you wanted to, and that girl seemed more interested in you than in Will, but you didn’t go for it. How come?”

He’s quiet for a moment, glancing down from her eyes to the mess of popcorn on the floor, before he responds, “I didn’t really want to. I haven’t had a very keen interest in quite some time. I don’t know why I said that to you last night, honestly.”

She hums in response, then thinks back to what Ruby said. “So, when was the last time you… you know…” she trails off, realizing very quickly that this wasn’t really an appropriate line of questioning for her best friend whom she’s kissed one time.

“Such an interest in my sex life, aye Swan?” he smirks, finally looking at her again. She smiles back sheepishly, no doubt turning a very bright shade of pink. “It’s been a while, that’s for sure. One time with Milah just before you moved in, and then a drunken Halloween night with a girl dressed as Tinkerbell.”

She rolls her eyes at the thought of him hooking up with Tinkerbell and not knowing her actual name, then says, “you and Milah hooked up after she broke up with you?”

“Aye, a lapse in judgement, I suppose.”

She nods, understanding completely. There was a point after her breakup with Neal when she considered going back to him, although she luckily had a change of heart after a very loud conversation with Ruby.

“Can I tell you something, Emma,” he says so softly that it’s almost a whisper, but she can still hear the deep timbre of his voice.

“Yes,” she whispers back.

He’s breathing heavily, his forehead is close to hers and his hand is back on her knee. “I’ve had a massive crush on you since you moved in. Since we met, really, but I think when you moved in and I saw you crying on the couch while you sang along to the ending of Dirty Dancing, I was done for. And you're my best friend and I don’t wanna put any pressure on you, but I want you to know… how I feel.”

Emma hasn’t breathed for several moments, and this didn’t change anything. “I’ve had a crush on you since, like… last night, I think,” she says, smirking.

He laughs again and she sees an evil glint in his eyes before he wraps his right arm around her waist, pulling her up onto his lap and tickling her mercilessly as she laughs loudly, likely drawing attention from her roommates.

“You are absolutely wicked, Emma Nolan. Last night? Are you serious?” His fingers are still brushing lightly against her waist and she’s still giggling, actually giggling, for god’s sake. “Can I take you out for dinner, then?”

Killian got a new leather jacket in the mail and wouldn’t take it off. Like, he would not take it off. He keeps walking around in it saying stupid things like, “it really makes my hips pop,” and “I know it’s black, but it’s, like, a different kind of black. It brings out my eyes.” Emma is seriously about to lose it.  What makes matters worse is the fact that David and Will aren’t trying to stop him from acting as stupid as he is. They’re amping him up because they want to go out tonight, and it’s very un-fun going out with Killian when he’s down in the dumps about Milah. Still.

           Milah broke up with Killian months before Emma moved in. She had been cheated on by her long-term boyfriend Neal and needed a new place, and the only place with a room available happened to be her older brother’s loft, which happened to be filled with three grown men who act like children. Killian apparently took his breakup pretty hard, although she doubts he was as openly and embarrassingly emotional as she was. According to David, Milah was the one who got away. Evidently, she loved Kilian, but had to let him go. Her words, not Emma’s. Also evident was the fact that she very quickly moved into another’s man’s apartment after dumping his ass.

           So, while Emma had managed to get over Neal, she thinks rather successfully, Killian was still nursing that post-breakup hangover and hadn’t been out with the guys in several months. David usually doesn’t go out drinking, Emma assumes because he is in a long-term, committed relationship, so this is apparently momentous. Will is very excited to get out and get laid as he so eloquently put it. And now, with Killian’s new-found confidence thanks to a leather duster, he plans on getting laid as well.

           She has to admit, despite how obnoxious and childish he’s being, the black leather does work very well on him. His fair skin and dark hair compliment it, his muscular shoulders fit inside perfectly, and his ocean blue eyes truly do stand out.

           She immediately shakes that thought out of her head.

           Emma plans to stay home alone tonight; her current fling Walsh is working, and her best friend Ruby has a date. She could try and call Mary Margaret, David’s aforementioned girlfriend, but the two of them are more… daytime friends. Meaning, they get along great when they're doing adult things like having brunch or decorating the loft, but when it comes to Emma’s more childish side (read: drinking in excess) she sometimes feels as though Mary Margaret disapproves. Almost as if she’s the mom friend, but in a way that makes Emma feel like she could actually be her mother. This could be because she’s dating Emma’s older brother, or it could be because Mary Margaret has basically the purest soul of anyone Emma has ever met. Perhaps a combination of both.

           Honestly, Emma would totally go out with the guys tonight. But apparently that wouldn’t work in their favor.

           “I’m so down,” Emma exclaimed when Will announced their plans, jumping off the counter and imagining what outfit she would wear. She hasn’t been out in weeks and it wouldn’t kill her to act like a single lady for a night.

           “No way.” Killian practically jumped out of his own seat and stood directly in front of her, blocking her way to her bedroom. “You can’t come. I actually want to get laid tonight. You’d just get in the way.”

           “Excuse me!”

           “You would! Do you know how difficult it would be to get a woman to come home with me with you present? There’s no way you’re coming,” Killian says, rather rudely.

           “He’s right, Emma. It’d just make it harder for us guys if a lady was there,” Will added, shrugging and making the most insincerely apologetic face.

           “Maybe I can call Mary Margaret and see if she wants to hang out with you tonight?”

           So now she’s stuck at home. Emma spent the rest of the evening glaring at Killian before they left. She could also place equal blame on Will and David, but Killian is easier to glare at. Each time she looks over at him and narrowed her eyes, he shoots her a stupid, cocky grin and waggles his eyebrows.

           “Don’t wait up for us, Swan. Although, it may be difficult to sleep by the time we get home. We are right across the hall from one another, so if you think me and my lady friend are being too loud, well… just try and block it out.” Everything that Killian says to her is a joke, but that doesn’t make her glare any softer.

           “Shut up, Jones. You’d be lucky to get anyone to come home with you. Women will take one look at your stupid jacket and run for the hills,” she scoffs, pinching the fabric at his collar and dismissively flicking it away from her.

           “You said you liked my jacket!” His eyes grow twice their normal size and he feigns hurt, placing his right hand over his heart and gasping.

           “Just tell me you’re not actually going to wear it out tonight. It’s so long and flowy I feel like I could’ve worn it to prom.”

           “I’m sure it would look wonderful on you, love. But I think it will look better on my bedroom floor,” he says, another waggle in his thick brows. Emma glowers and groans.

           “You’re so stupid! Who says that?”

           “Oh, you love my sense of humor, Swan, don’t try and fight it,” he says in a low voice, leaning in closer to her and looking at her through his long lashes.

           “I’ve told you so many times to stop calling me that.” Emma rolls her eyes and turns around towards her bedroom, but his hand catches the crook of her elbow.

           “It’s funny. That’s one of the best things I’ve ever seen. Why wouldn’t you want me to continuously memorialize it?”

           “It’s not funny! I was attacked!”

           Killian chuckles and let’s go of her arm, a soft smile now decorating his face. “You’ll be alright here tonight, aye Swan? I didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcome.”

           Emma rolls her eyes again as she walks into her bedroom and Killian follows. “Yes, you did. And it’s fine, I get it. Wouldn’t want anyone to get in the way of Killian Jones’s great conquest,” she says sarcastically, waving jazz hands in front of his eyes.

           It was Killian’s turn to roll his eyes now, blue disappearing behind his lids as he scoffs and smirks. He shakes his head leaves his place in her threshold.

~~~

           Emma didn’t always like Killian. Okay, she doesn’t really like him that much now, but when she first moved in, she couldn’t stand him. He was completely cocky, which David explained was a symptom of his difficult breakup. Apparently, it was arduous for him to get over the love of his life without acting like an asshole. Emma’s not sure what Will’s excuse was; the youngest of the three, he seems to get into the most trouble. David’s the oldest of the group, and also the most mature. He takes on a caretaking role rather effortlessly, just as he always has with Emma.

           As she sits at home alone, she becomes so desperately bored that she considers organizing her closet. However, knowing that that would never happen, she chooses to put on a scary movie and make some popcorn.

           When it ends, she decides to call Walsh while she thinks he’s on his break. Lately, even though they’ve only been seeing each other casually for about a month, she’s been feeling as if he expects much more from her than she’s willing to give. It seems as if he wants a committed relationship, although he hasn’t come out and said it, and she’s been feeling pressure to act more like a girlfriend.

Of course, it’s only natural that the hot water pipes should clang loudly in this moment, causing her to scream and throw what’s left of her popcorn right as she finishes up her voicemail.  

           “Swan,” she hears from outside the door. “Swan?” Killian swings the door open with fervor; his brows twisted into a concerned arch. David and Will were behind him, along with one of the most beautiful women Emma has ever seen. She offhandedly wonders who she decided to go home with.

           “Hi,” she replies, reaching down to pick up some of the popcorn that went flying around her. “How was your night?”

           “It was great, Emma. I’d like you to meet Sabine,” Will cuts in and gestures towards the woman with a cheeky grin on his face. “Sabine, this is my totally platonic roommate, Emma.”

           “Nice to meet you,” Sabine says with a small wave and an oddly flirty smile. “This is a great place you guys have.”

           “Yeah, thanks.”

           “Killian tells me you created a great drinking game, and the vibe at the bar was totally off, so we thought we’d check it out. Mind if we play?” Emma finds it interesting that Will seems to think he brought Sabine home, but Sabine appears to be all over Killian. Killian starts towards Emma now, and miraculously takes off his stupid jacket before sitting on the arm of the chair she’s in, smirking. The asshole.

           “Sure, that’s fine. Everyone needs a drink and we need to find the dice and board though,” she turns her attention to Will. If he thinks she’s helping set this up, he’s got another thing coming. “I’ll take a rum and coke.”

           Killian’s looking down at her still, so she looks back at him and glares once again. “Can I help you with something?”

           “Aye,” he says softly, reaching his right hand towards her face. She thinks she almost feels her lashes fluttering at his soft touch, until she feels a slight pull of a few strands of hair at the top of her head.

           “Ow, what the hell?”

           “More popcorn, love. How’d that get there?” She rolls her eyes (yes, again), and takes the kernel from his hand, tempted to throw it at him.

           “I don’t know. Maybe I was saving it for later, and now you’ve just ruined my midnight snack.” Killian laughs- actually throws his head back and laughs, before raising his right arm over her shoulders and sliding himself into the chair she’s in, effectively squishing the both of them.

           “Again, what the hell,” she asks, her tone incredulous and hostile.

           “Not enough seats, love. Ruby’s on her way.”

           “How would you know that? And why wouldn’t I just share a seat with Ruby?”

           “We text from time to time, mostly about you,” he says, his brows switching places as he raises one and lowers the other.

           “Shup up, you idiot,” she says with an eye roll. Pretty soon, they’re going to get stuck up there. At least, she thinks that’s what Mary Margaret would tell her. Killian chuckles deeply in response and she thinks she feels him squeezing his arm tighter around her shoulder. She knows he put it there to annoy her, but she doesn’t particularly mind, what with her irrational scare a few minutes before. “So, what the hell are you doing home this early?”

           “It’s like Sabine said, Swan, the vibe at the bar was totally off,” he says sarcastically, clearly poking fun at Will’s new friend.

           “So off that you couldn’t get anyone to come home with you? With that jacket?” Emma feigns shock, putting her hands to her cheeks and raising her brows, painting herself with a concerned expression. “Sabine seems to think you guys make a great match.”

           “Wasn’t really interested, I suppose. She’s better suited for Will.”

           “Please,” she scoffs, “she’s hot as hell, and earlier you literally said, and I quote, ‘I actually want to get laid tonight.’” Her take on his accent is truly terrible.

           His response is minimal, simply a shrug of his right shoulder as he works his way out of the chair that he wedged the two of them into. “You know you aren’t getting that drink from Will. You want a lime?” She nods, looking at him incredulously. They’ve lived together for nine months and he still acts like he doesn’t know what she drinks. It’s not as if they don’t drink together nearly every weekend.

~~~

           The game started only once everyone finally got their shit together. It’s true, Emma did create an awesome drinking game. A poster board and Mary Margaret’s artistic abilities quickly allowed for the creation of a game somewhere in between Candy Land and Monopoly. Okay, not really, but the concept is similar. Emma’s game states that the player roles a die and moves their game piece the appropriate number of spaces, then completes the task in the square they land on. Many of the tasks are drinking related. The game was created while they were all drunk.

           Emma roles the die and moves five spaces, commanded to drink because she’s from out of state. Killian must drink as well, and so must Sabine. Killian roles next and drinks because he doesn’t have brown eyes. Emma and David drink here too. At some point, Ruby does show up and complains about her date with the doctor named Whale. Emma thinks that anyone named after an animal cannot be trusted. Then she stops herself, remembering the stupid name Killian gave her.

           The game goes on for many rounds, and each of them get drunker with each role of the die. Eventually, Sabine lands on Never Have I Ever, and the loser must finish their drink, while everyone also takes a sip for each finger they put down. Emma, Ruby, and David all have one finger left, and it’s Killian’s turn to call a rule. He stares her dead in the face and smirks, one brow raised higher than she even thought was possible.

           “Alright, never have I ever…” he pauses, moving his right hand up to pinch his bottom lip and jut his jaw forward, his tongue running along his lip. Fuck, Emma thinks. I must be drunk. “Never have I ever been attacked in a park by the local wildlife.”

           Emma freezes and glares in his direction while everyone else laughs. She was holding up her pointer finger, but she drops it and replaces it with her middle. Then, despite the fogginess in her brain, she picks up her glass and takes another swig of her third perfectly made rum and coke.

           Once she finishes what’s in her glass, it’s her turn to role, and she lands on the one square that only one other person has ever landed on: The Iron Curtain- player to your left.

           In her drunken state, Emma’s not sure how well she hid her horror. She does not want to go behind the Iron Curtain. Only once was this rule played out, and it was the night that sparked silence between Ruby and Will for two weeks afterwards.

           Ruby cheers and stands up excitedly, jumping for joy and spilling her wine in the process. David groans and says she doesn’t have to do this. Sabine looks at Will, clearly wondering what the hell is going on.

           Emma has to go behind the giant metal sliding door and kiss someone. Specifically, she has to kiss the person to her left.

           When she looks to her left, all she sees is a sea of blue covered by thick black brows. “No way,” he says.

           “It’s the rules!” Ruby has never looked more excited, and her wolfish grin is very off-putting.

           “No! I’m not kissing Killian!”

           “Well I’m not kissing you!”

           “Oh, come on, we’re all adults here! It’ll literally take a minute,” Ruby tries to reason unsuccessfully.

           “A minute? How long do you think we’re going to be kissing? I’m certainly not kissing my best friend’s sister for a full minute.” He looks over at her and shrugs.

           “That’s a great point, Killian,” David chimes in.

           “Nothing from you, pal,” Will pipes up. “The rules state that she must go behind the Iron Curtain with the person to her left. She should’ve sat next to Ruby and this whole thing could’ve been avoided.” His attempt at lightening the mood is truly upsetting.

           “Okay, fuck this. If it’s gonna get everyone off my back, I’ll go behind the stupid Iron Curtain with stupid Killian Jones. Let’s go, idiot.” She grabs his right hand and yanks, noticing that it isn’t all that difficult to get him to come with her. Behind her, everyone is whooping and chanting kiss kiss kiss! as they shut the sliding door behind them.

           Once they're behind the door, the chants become muffled and she’s finally able to comprehend what the hell she’s doing. She’s quite drunk, mainly because Killian is always very generous with the rum when he makes her drinks. She’s not so sure about him though.

           “We’re not actually doing this, are we Swan?”

           “You know, I made the game, and now I’m really mad at myself. Why did you have to sit on my left?”

           He scoffs, although she thinks she sees a smile in his eyes. “I always sit on your left, Swan. We literally always sit in the same seats when we play this.”

           She rolls her eyes once again. “It’s the rules, we have to just suck it up and do it.”

           “I don’t want to suck it up, Jesus. So crass.”

           “Why are you so against kissing me? Do you really think it’ll be that bad, Jones?” She’s raising her voice slightly, for which she blames the rum. “We’re both drunk, we can just do it and forget it happened tomorrow.”

           “I am not even close to being as drunk as you are right now, Swan. And did you forget that you have a boyfriend? Because I didn’t.”

           “I don’t have a boyfriend, Killian,” she scoffs, backing to the wall and sliding down into a sitting position. He cocks his head and turns his body so that he can copy what she did, sitting on her left side again.

           “Trouble in paradise, love?”

           “No… I don’t know. Walsh is fine, it’s just…” she trails off, not sure how to finish the statement. Things with Walsh are just that, fine. But lately, she can’t help the feeling that things between them just aren’t right.            “Fine doesn’t seem promising to me, Emma. Are you sure that’s enough?” She’s honestly caught off guard by the way he says her name. Not love, not Swan, Emma. As if he means what he says, and cares about her answer.

           “No,” she replies so softly she’s unsure if she even heard herself. “I think we want different things.” He hums in response, nodding his head slowly and bumping his shoulder into hers.

           “I’m not convinced kissing me would make that any better. Maybe we shouldn’t do this. I really don’t want to kiss you like this.” For some reason, Emma suddenly feels herself grappling with a strange sensation. I really don’t want to kiss you like this. A pit has formed in her stomach and it feels as though someone has reached in and grabbed her heart, squeezing as hard as they could. Rejection.

           Why on earth would Emma Nolan be upset that Killian Jones doesn’t want to kiss her? Hell, she doesn’t want to kiss him! So, what is it about these words that threaten to send her over the edge? These words that make her feel so much more sadness than she thought was possible?

           “It’s fine,” she breathes, refusing to lift her head in his direction.

           “Swan,” he says carefully. “Emma… What’s wrong, love?” She’s never heard his voice sound so smooth and velvety and caring. Part of her wants to lean into him and take comfort in his softness, but the other part of her continues to replay his words over in her head. I really don’t want to kiss you like this.

           Rude of him to assume that she’s too drunk and sloppy for a kiss, considering he’s the one who made her this way.

           “Stop calling me that,” she finally says dismissively, getting up too quickly and stumbling her way towards the door.

~~~

           “Emma?!” She hears the annoying voice before she sees the face it belongs to. Walsh is pounding on the door, and frankly, he’s the last person she wants to see right now.

           “Did you kiss?” Ruby asks her with her grin still plastered on her face, and Emma rolls her eyes. She sees David looking at her from the corner of her eye, then sees him get up and go towards the door.

           “Emma, are you alright? Oh, hey everyone,” Walsh says when the door finally opens and he sees the party of people in the loft. “Emma, I got your voicemail. Are you okay? You were screaming.”

           “Did you call Walsh while you were behind the curtain with Killian? Emma, that’s sneaky! But you can’t get out of this one!” Ruby’s brows waggle in a way that resembles Killian’s, and Emma’s eyes launch themselves into the back of her head with a roll.

           “What does that mean, behind the curtain? Are you okay?”

           “Walsh, I’m fine. We’re just playing a game. The pipes creaked while I was calling you and it startled me.” Emma’s mood is completely shot, and she isn’t even really sure why. Frankly, she’s pissed at herself for being upset right now.

           “Well, where’s Killian? I’d like to know what he was up to during this game.” She can hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice for whatever reason.

           “How should I know where he went,” She snaps. “I’m not his keeper, I don’t track his every move.”

           “Emma, calm down. Jesus. Do you know what it’s like to receive such a horrible message while I’m at work and then have to come over here and see everyone trashed out of their minds? Would it kill you to just chill out for a second rather than jumping down my throat for asking a simple question?”

           “Woah, mate,” she hears from behind Walsh. Killian has made his way out from behind the curtain and is wearing a look of astonishment on his face.

           “No one asked you, Jones.”

           “Shut up, Walsh,” Emma retorts. The room suddenly feels much quieter than it was just a few seconds ago. Will has turned the music down and everyone has stopped shout-talking.

           “Excuse me?”

           “I said shut up. Don’t talk to my friend like that. Don’t talk to me like that. I didn’t ask you to come over here. In fact, if you had given me a heads up, I would’ve told you not to come over here.”

           “Are you serious? You literally left me a voicemail as if you were in grave danger, and now you’re mad at me for checking on you?”

           “You checking on me isn’t the problem here! The problem is that you clearly don’t actually give a shit and you’re just here to keep up appearances!”

           “What does that even mean? That’s absurd.” He’s rolling his eyes this time, still standing close to the still-open door. David and Killian are both behind him, eyeing Emma carefully.

           “If you really cared about me potentially being in danger, you wouldn’t have come over here with a whole stick up your ass. And you certainly wouldn’t have gotten upset when you saw that I was fine!” Killian purses his lips and nods, and David shoots her a discreet grin.

           Walsh scoffs, backing towards the door some more. “You know what, I don’t need this.”

           “Good,” Emma retorts. “Neither do I. Go home, Walsh.”

           “Where do you think I’m going? Christ, I swear. Go have fun with Killian, I guess.”

           “Don’t bother coming back, and don’t call me! I don’t wanna hear from you!” She’s shouting at him, as if he’s too far away to hear her, even though he hasn’t crossed the threshold.

           “Why would I come back? It’s always been obvious that you don’t want me here, Emma! I don’t even know why I ever bothered! A slut like you could never settle down!”

           She feels like she’s been punched. What grounds could Walsh possibly have to call her a slut? In her entire adult life, she can count the number of guys she’s dated on one hand. Her six-year relationship took up a lot of her time, thank you very much.

           Emma may have felt like she was punched, but at least she wasn’t actually punched. At least she didn’t have Killian and David standing behind her, taking in her insult and rearing up to punch her in the face the second she turned towards them. At least she didn’t have David holding her in her place while Killian swung his right fist straight into her jaw.

           If she wasn’t so shocked by what just went down, she would’ve found it impressive to see Killian and David working together to beat up the guy who just insulted her character. Killian likely wouldn’t have been able to grab Walsh and hold him in place with his left hand while his right hand swung into his face, but with David there, he was able to deliver a firm hit that must’ve made Walsh dizzy.

           “Get the fuck out of our apartment,” Killian hisses, practically spitting in Walsh’s face while he holds his collar with his right hand. Then, Killian shoves Walsh to the ground outside the door and David slams it shut.

           “Alright, Swan?” Killian’s blue eyes are on her, along with everyone else’s. She nods and slowly turns around and walks back to the couch.

           “Emma…” Ruby starts, but she’s clearly not sure where to go from here. Neither is Emma. What the hell just happened?

           “I’m fine. I just- I need another drink,” she says pleadingly, eyes on Killian’s. His brows tighten together in concern, but he nods softly, making his way over towards the kitchen.

           Emma sits on the couch and draws her own brows together, trying to comprehend what just happened. Walsh busted in and started accusing her of making stuff up, or, at least, that’s how she interpreted things. She was already heated, so having him come at her like that must have just set her off. Did she really have to scream at him like that?

           Then she remembers what he said to her, what he called her. Emma has been dating a bit more lately, trying to get over Neal, but she certainly wouldn’t classify herself as a slut, and she definitely wouldn’t say she’s been sleeping around. Walsh just said that because he wanted a relationship and she didn’t… right?

           Then she thinks about what happened after he called her a slut. Everything happened so quickly that she’s not even sure if she remembers it correctly. As soon as Walsh said it, he turned around, as if he wanted to insult her and then promptly leave. However, Killian had just walked out from the other room, and David was the one who opened the door when he first arrived, so the two of them were waiting for him when he turned around. The second they saw his face, it seemed like the pounced. It was almost as if the two of them had rehearsed David holding Walsh in place and Killian hitting him square in the jaw. It wasn’t hard enough to knock him unconscious, but it was definitely a hard hit.

Then, Emma’s thinking about Killian’s knuckles and how they must be starting to ache, so she stands abruptly, stumbles a bit, and makes her way into the kitchen. She’s certain that at least David and Ruby are watching her, but she doesn’t care.

“I was on my way back out, love,” Killian says when she reaches the kitchen area. She nods, her eyebrows still screwed up in concern and confusion. “Would you like your drink here?” She nods again.

“Okay?” She’s looking him in the eye and then glancing down at his hand and pointing at it.

He chuckles softly, “are you asking if I’m okay, or are you saying okay to drinking out here?”

“You,” is all she can say back, eyes still fixed on his reddening knuckles. It’s as if she’s completely unable to focus on anything else.

“I’m fine, Swan. You should see the other guy,” he jokes with a cocky smile, but his eyes soften when her expression remains unchanged. She steps forward towards him, stumbles past his body, and heads towards the freezer, pulling out a box of popsicles. She thrusts the box towards him and nods her head. “Swan, really, I’m okay.”

“You need to ice it,” she says, pushing the box towards him again. She thinks this action through and ends up opening the box and taking one out before forcing him to take it from her. “You only have one good hand left, take care of it.”

His face falls slightly at the comment, and she immediately regrets saying it, but he takes the box from her anyway.

“I’m sorry,” she says, suddenly feeling a wave a guilt that’s likely to drown her, tears pricking her eyes. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head and walks towards her, steadying her wavering body with his arms and drawing her into an embrace. “It’s alright love, I’m not mad. Everything’s alright.”

She feels like crying, she thinks she is crying, in fact, but she can’t hardly focus on that anymore. Not when she’s also focused on the way Killian smells like the ocean and the way that the smell mixes with the scent of leather lingering on his tight black Henley. He’s squeezing her in a way that makes her almost forget the weirdly terrible turn the night took.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, although she’s not sure why.

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything. I’m sorry he was such a dick to you.”

She shakes her head against his chest and continues to breathe deeply, warding off tears without even meaning to.

Suddenly, as they stand there with him holding her so tenderly, her thoughts draw back to where they were only minutes ago, and she feels that familiar sensation in the pit of her stomach. She moves from him, his embrace loosening, and drunkenly looks up at him with sadness stuck in her eyes. “You didn’t want to kiss me,” she states.

He hums lightly, sighing and nodding his head. “Perhaps we can talk about that tomorrow.”

“No,” she says, “I want to talk now. I won’t want to talk tomorrow.” What she means is, she won’t have the balls to talk about it tomorrow, without excessive liquid courage.

“I didn’t want to kiss you,” he confirms. “I didn’t want to make you kiss me because I thought you would feel bad about it afterwards. What with Walsh and everything,” he trails off. He clearly thought that they were in a better place than they were.

“Walsh is gone,” she says without thinking. “He was gonna be gone soon anyway.”

“Aye, love, I know that now. But I also,” he cuts himself off, sighing and pulling on his bottom lip with his right hand in a way that threatens to drive her insane. His left arm is still slung over her shoulders, but they’ve separated a bit. “I didn’t want to kiss you because of some game you were playing while you were drunk.”

“Oh,” she says, considering this. Perhaps her suspicions about her being too drunk to be kissable were accurate.

“What I mean is, if I were to kiss you, I’d want it to be more special than it would have been behind the Iron Curtain.”

“Oh.”

“Emma?” Ruby rounds the corner before Emma can comprehend what Killian said. “Are you okay, honey? Why are you holding a popsicle?”

She looks down at the melty mess within the white packaging. Killian chuckles and tosses it in the trash, then moves to put the box back in the freezer. While he’s in there, searching for room even though it was just pulled out, she leaves the kitchen and heads straight for the bathroom.  

           She feels slightly better now that she’s walking and not being suffocated by Killian’s muscular chest and intoxicating scent. At the same time, however, she also feels cold and alone.

She notes that it’s now completely quiet in the living room, as if the party died the second Walsh walked in. She feels guilty about being the root of the problem tonight, but honestly can’t really spend much time thinking about it.

           Once she makes it to the bathroom, she gets her cleanser and removes her makeup, then puts on her moisturizer. Throughout her adult life, if there was one thing she was good at, it was drunkenly taking off her makeup and completing her skincare routine.

           Once she gets to bed, she finds her thoughts migrating back to Killian. She thinks about the way his face tightened and his arm muscles rippled when he swung and hit Walsh. She thinks about the way his kind eyes stared at her and only her afterwards, as if he needed to make sure she was okay. She thinks about the way he smelled and how his soft warm chest felt against her face while he held her.

           Then, she thinks about what he said. If I were to kiss you, I’d want it to be more special than it would have been behind the Iron Curtain. What the hell does that mean?

           She would genuinely be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t thought about how it would feel to kiss him. His lips are luscious, anyone would have to admit it. And he’s always doing that thing where he pinches them between his fingers or runs his tongue along the bottom one. If it was anyone else, someone she didn’t live with and someone who wasn’t her brother’s best friend, she probably would have jumped on the opportunity to sleep with him months ago.

But thinking that he’s physically attractive and actually having feelings for him are completely different things. And lately, despite her constant annoyance, she also has feelings of longing and happiness whenever she sees him. Him saying that he would want their shared moment to be special is only adding fuel to the fire of him being crush-worthy. Her feeling rejected by him saying he didn’t want to kiss her also made her feel foolish for ever thinking that she didn’t have a crush on him.

The lights are off and she’s under her blankets, but she hears her door creak open and sees light flooding in the crack. She’s sure Ruby went home by now, so she’s not sure who would be breaking into her room. Rather than dealing with it, she pretends to be asleep until the culprit leaves. Once they do and she hears the door close tight, she rolls over and looks to her bedside table to see that whoever it was left some Advil and cold water for her, and grins, knowing it must have been Killian who dropped it off.