Work Text:
She burrows, wheedles, her way deeper into the covers. Her nose is cold, so she presses it against Killian's warm, bare shoulder. His arms and chest are pockmarked with small scars from battles long past. She wants to run her fingers over every nick in his skin, skim over them with her lips, and learn all their stories. She sighs, contented, and nestles closer to him.
"Mmm?" His eyes, still so full of sleep, find hers. "Morning, love," he whispers against her lips.
"Hi," she whispers back. She closes the few centimeters between them with a kiss.
"How did you sleep?" The breath of his words dance across her lips, heavy with implication.
Her fingers find his hips where she starts tracing patterns against his skin. "Well enough. And you?"
Hook scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Well enough? Was that all? Sorry to disappoint you, then, Swan."
She pinches the skin on his stomach, blessedly bare and firm under her touch. "Oh, stop it," she scolds. "It was probably the best night I've had in a very long time. Does that help your ego any?"
"Some, thanks," he smiles his winning smile. "But now you've gone and ruined the moment, love."
Exasperated, Emma rolls onto her back, away from the frustrating and tempting pirate. "Oh, whatever."
"Stubborn woman," he complains, lacing his arm around her waist and pulling her back to him.
"You like it."
"Aye, lass, I do. However, there is a time and a place for such arguments, and that is not now," his tone is gentle but commanding. His lips meet her throat, teasing her skin with memories of the night before.
And there he is, his face hovering over hers, devilishly handsome in every right, and she wonders if this is what a happy ending feels like.