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Emma Swan had, more or less, kissed Captain Hook twice now.
But neither of those kisses had been anything like this one.
This wasn’t their first kiss from deep within the wet heat of Neverland’s jungles: fierce and ravenous, driven by lust and hunger, the need for escapism, and the competitive desire to challenge one another. To prove him wrong, to best him, to wipe that cocky smirk off of his insufferably beautiful mouth with her own, only for it to have left them both reeling and staggered and short of breath. A challenge she may have won a little too well, as it wasn’t long after their “dalliance” (as he’d so infuriatingly called it) that the pirate was all but spilling his heart out all over her (and her damn parents who had been right there) within the cursed confines of the Echo Cave, altering the course of their already rocky relationship forever.
But God damn, had it been a good kiss. One she had never stopped thinking about, as hard as she’d tried to.
Nor was it the impassioned kisses she’d shared with him- or, rather, the man he used to be, not more than a day (or, rather, several years) ago, where she was nothing more than his distractingly beautiful bar wench and he her dreaded pirate of legend whom she had been tasked with distracting. A task that had been very easy to carry out, as she’d had the drunken fool wrapped around her finger as soon as he’d laid his hungry eyes on her. His kisses, while sloppy with alcohol-induced desire, had been eager and passionate in a different kind of way. She had been nothing more than a temptingly exotic stranger to him: a passing ship set to entertain the dastardly seafarer for the night, sharing in his heat and rum and eager attention. A night cut short thanks to the jealous fist of his current self.
…Who was the man she had found herself kissing now.
And this kiss… was something else entirely.
Just like with the first two instances, Emma had been the one to initiate it. Slow but without hesitance, she‘d lowered her eyes and shifted in her chair towards him, utterly overcome with appreciation and affection that had nowhere to go but his lips.
Scarcely able to believe what was happening and remaining perfectly still so as not to scare her away or burst the perfect bubble forming around them, Killian had tentatively and automatically met her advance in kind, his hand lifting to gently hold the side of her head as his mouth came to life and melded softly into hers. Losing himself into the kiss, into the woman that could make or break him and already had done a thousand times over. She could change her mind in an instant and destroy him where he sat, so he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to soak up as much of this perfect kiss and the perfect person he was kissing as he possibly could.
His kisses had always been magnetic and otherworldly to a head-spinning degree- and, oh, did her head spin, but the feeling of this one: the newness, the unfamiliarity, the unbidden feeling behind it awoke something in Emma. It was slow, and tender, and a little unsure at first as they each drank in that impossibly sweet moment that seemed to stop time altogether. And it was incredible.
But as quickly and as suddenly as it had begun, it became more passionate. As confidence and bravery grew, so did their shared desire.
Lips became hungrier as heat flared between them and their equal need for each other: for that security, that comfort, that taste. Heads moved in search of new angles, new ways to deepen the kiss and re-discover each other’s mouths. Hands changed positions: hers grasping the back of his head to thread through thick black hair and send shivers down his spine as his cupped the warm skin of her cheek to increase the unsteady thrum of her heart.
She had never stopped kissing someone so much just to smile at them before.
A smile he had cautiously returned, overcome by the soft shyness of her expression and the warmth lingering within the intoxicatingly close proximity of their faces. Uncertain eyes found each other for a split second before returning to the other’s lips, where they met once again for more.
-
After several more minutes of getting lost, Emma found the strength to pull back just a little, brushing her nose against Killian’s who’d reluctantly released his lips from hers with a thick, shuddering exhale. The two remained still for a moment, his hand caressing the side of her jaw where his thumb continued to stroke the dimple in her chin and tease her bottom lip, sending a chill down the curve of her back where his hooked arm had come to rest and hold her to him.
They were both a little out of breath after stealing each other’s: thick, heated air filling the minimal distance between them as they remained close, neither wanting to pull away.
It was Killian who spoke first, the warm hint of amusement present in his rough, breathless voice.
“No one shows gratitude quite like you, love.”
His words finally caused her to move back in her seat enough to smile at him fully enough to regret it a little, prompting him to release his hand from her face and rest it back onto the table, agitated fingers dancing in clear desperation to keep touching her. His other wrist lowered down her back slightly to relinquish her just a little, but not entirely. Not yet.
Weirdly, it was far less nerve-wracking being entirely within his space with none left between them and losing herself in his kiss (as opposed to being far away enough to look at him) where there was less chance for intense eye contact or unspoken words being said out loud.
Still, she would give him this. After everything they had been through- just during the past few days alone, no less, she could at least be a little braver and a little more honest with him. (And with herself, maybe.) God knows he deserved it.
“You should know by now that that was more than just a ‘thank you’ kiss, Killian.” She said softly as a coy, knowing smile crossed her blushing cheeks and shone through her deep grey-green eyes that reminded him of a storm at sea. How he longed to dive into them and never resurface.
The way she uttered his name- his real name drove him utterly insane, yet soothed him at the same time. Much like how she made him feel every bloody day. The sound had never been sweeter, had never belonged to a mouth quite like it belonged in hers. To hear her finally refer to him as such meant more than words could ever say, and she had uttered it twice now.
His own eyes, impossibly blue in the soft fluorescent light, widened just a fraction at those words, sparkling with hope and vulnerability that she still wasn’t quite ready to embrace yet.
And, thankfully, he sensed that, too, and didn’t say anything else- as much as he wanted to ask her to be more specific. He knew by now just to take what he could get when it came to Emma and the fortified walls kept in place to guard her heart. A heart he hoped he was getting closer and closer to each and every day- although he certainly felt pretty damn close to it right now.
After her gaze had drifted idly to her hand resting on the table (close enough to his to feel the faintest electrical spark between their fingers) as she soaked in the thick, heavy silence, Emma raised her eyes to re-find his, already staring at her as always. Capturing her there and keeping her, before glancing down to her lips once more, idly licking his own as he stared, shameless and wanting as ever. Her cheeks flushed at the sudden contact and unfairly sexy sight, overcome by him (and the effect he had on her) as usual. Both by his ridiculously beautiful physical features, and the way he looked at hers. It made her ache everywhere.
Throwing her own apprehension to the wind for a moment, Emma lifted her hand to rest it against his cheek and lazily stroke at his stubble with her thumb, her expression soft with concentration as she studied his perfect face, watching his lips part ever so slightly to allow his hitching breath the chance to escape in response to the touch he constantly yearned for.
“God, you’re handsome.”
There had been no stopping the whispered words that came spilling out of her mouth without permission, but she didn’t even have the heart to regret them or cringe at herself. Because he was. Impossibly so. And he should know that she thought so. That she’d always thought so.
Even though she knew that he knew how attractive he was (he loved to remind them every chance he got, the bastard), her compliment still seemed to hit him. Hook’s eyes tightened with wonder and barely unrestrained fondness as he reached up for her hand and grasped it, gently pulling it off of his face in order to press featherlight kisses against her knuckles, making her shudder.
“And you, Emma,” he began, his voice intense and barely more than breath that tickled already tingling skin and made her swallow in preparation - because she already knows that this is going to be a lot, “are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had the honour of looking at.”
Yep. A lot. Too much.
“Pulling my eyes away from you is one of the hardest parts of my every day, because they wish for nothing more than to take you in bit by bit and never, ever stop.”
Emma knew his response was going to be intense , but there was still no stopping the heated blush from filling her face and making her feel dizzy as she absorbed the words just spoken to her through a thick, husky voice belonging to someone who already, annoyingly, held so much power over her. Knowing that he’d had a love before her made them even more insane, and the realisation that he might.. prefer her was flattering and overwhelming beyond measure . She looked away, a soft bout of laughter huffing out of her tight, closed-mouth smile as she spoke. He just couldn’t help himself, could he?
“Wow, way to one-up me.”
Her amused words elicited a soft chuckle to escape his own grin, and she was surprised and impressed to not see a single trace of embarrassment on his face when she managed to glance at him again. She couldn’t imagine saying anything like that to someone without immediately wanting to die afterwards. His unwavering confidence was unrivalled, as always. And, a ridiculous turn-on. As always.
“Sorry, love. It’s just who I am.” He replied, a glint of that characteristic cheekiness present in his eyes while his voice maintained its smooth tenderness. “Thank you for what you said, though. It means a lot to me.”
As he was still holding her hand (and had been idly stroking it with his thumb the entire time), he brought it to his lips once more, kissing her fingers now. It was so intimate and so casual and felt so good, Emma once again became a little overcome.
She surprised herself with how happy she was to let him keep being so openly affectionate with her (and wasn’t one bit surprised that he was taking what he could get now that she was finally giving it, now that she had given him the opening to be so affectionate with her), but she was enjoying it far too much to keep herself from thinking too hard about the implications. She just watched, quietly, enjoying the sensations the actions spread throughout her entire body, warming every inch despite the chill of the night air.
“Yeah, well,” she said, voice soft and sincere, “you mean a lot to me.”
After a beat of silence and emotion-heavy eye contact, Killian’s open mouth was upon hers once more, his hand releasing hers in order to once again take hold of her face and secure her to his lips.
The surprise of the sudden heat and wet softness was enough to push a moan from her mouth into his, and he responded in kind with a low, pleased sounding rumble as he opened his just as she did and closed it against her upper lip, grazing the sensitive flesh with his teeth and causing her breath to catch. He was such a ridiculously good kisser, it wasn’t fair.
(Or was it, since she was the one lucky enough to be kissing him, knowing full well (and maybe with a hint of pride) that he didn’t want to do this with anyone else??)
Every movement, every taste, every touch, every breath had her head reeling and her heart racing. He was passionate, yet gentle, capturing and recapturing her lips with an impossibly sweet softness that made her entire body ignite. She met him in kind, increasing the heat by pulling at the collar of his jacket to bring his body even closer and gently biting and tugging his bottom lip, making him pause to exhale before continuing eagerly.
His hand moved to hold the back of her head in order to gently and deliberately thread his ringed fingers through her hair, making her gasp in delight. Her own hand reached behind him to do the same, and she felt him smile against her mouth in response. She dared to brush her tongue against his, and he very eagerly complied with a low groan as they both hungrily deepened the kiss even more. Keeping the other close and secure as their heads and lips continued to move in perfect sync, heads equally hazy and both bodies on fire.
Soon they had to come up for air again: air that was rapidly being stolen by the other as both chests felt like they could burst with the pressure being put on their lungs and hearts.
“I could do this all night.”
Killian’s words were impossibly tender against her slightly parted lips, eliciting a soft chuckle to push through them.
And then, she felt afraid.
Because so could she.
And that was the problem.
Emma could very happily keep doing this – and more - all night and even longer into the days beyond. But she was waking up and it was suddenly becoming too real, too wonderful, too much, and she was falling faster and faster and faster with no clear means of escape.
She didn’t want to escape. If anything, he had been her escape. And that was terrifying.
No one should have that much power over her. Not yet. Not now. Not like this.
“I know,” she replied, her own voice as gentle and as quiet as his had been. She heard and felt his breathing hitch just a little as he smiled: a smile that was too close for her to see properly, but could picture perfectly in her head. It made her wince.
Finding what little strength she had, Emma braced herself and pulled away, even though everything in her tried to resist. “We probably shouldn’t, though.”
Her eyes were struggling to look into his as she said this, but his were, of course, glued to her.
“Why not?”
Now she was able to meet his gaze, and immediately regretted it. She needed to get through this without hurting him. Without hurting both of them.
“Because someone could come out and see us!” She exclaimed, managing a tight smile as she gestured towards the diner’s entrance. It wasn’t the biggest reason they had to stop, but it was certainly one of them. They would be in perfect view of anyone who stepped outside right now. “What if it’s David?”
”Fair point.” He replied, managing a reluctant smile and a small, forced chuckle, his eyes once again darting down to her lips before dropping into the empty space between them. It was clear he was still reeling from the kiss, but was slowly regaining control of his breathing.
His heart, however, was another matter entirely.
Oceanic eyes met hers once more, and even that was enough to fill her with desire and very nearly push her over the edge she was trying so desperately not to fall off of.
”I certainly wouldn’t want to suffer your father’s wrath should he walk out that door and find his precious daughter having her wicked way with his favourite pirate.”
Those words had her huff out an air of amusement which he echoed, but she could sense the hint of annoyance and reluctance in his tone. A tone that softened considerably into his next sentence.
”Especially on such a perfect evening.”
He took hold of her hand to kiss it once more, chivalrous and sweet as ever, his eyes never leaving hers as he did so. She could only stare, unblinking as she watched, mouth slightly agape before she found her voice.
“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head a little and frowning to refocus, her own laboured breath still yet to settle and her heart still refusing to slow down. “..Exactly.”
He was irresistible, and he knew it. And she would resist if it killed her.
“So,” he started, languidly stroking the surface of her knuckles with his thumb and managing to lower his voice even more, “why don’t we take this.. somewhere else, then? Away from prying eyes and invasive parents, hm?”
Emma’s entire chest seemed to tighten until her heart stopped. She froze as panic began to set in.
She knew he was going to make that suggestion, and once again needed to sway them both away from it without making things too difficult or awkward. One of his favourite pastimes, she’d long since noticed.
As tempting as that sounded (and, God, was it tempting), she knew she needed to be the strong one here. Which sucked, but he wasn’t going to make this any easier unless she made it even harder.
“We shouldn’t,” she said, smiling but serious. An impossible tease, as always. Giving him hope for possession of her heart while she had long held ownership over his (whether she wanted it or not), but pulling it away at the last second. Just out of reach, but so close he could feel it.
Could feel and taste it on his lips and his tongue that still tingled and burned in her wake, as if hers were still against his. From her warmth that he wished to be engulfed in for the rest of his life.
Stringing him along wasn’t her intention, it never had been. She’d never asked the stupid man to fall for her, nor had she forced him to. It had been beyond their control (especially his), and there was truly no helping it now.
But, something had changed. For the first time, Emma had decided that she wanted Hook to love her. At the very least, she wanted him to want her. What had once been an inconvenience, an irritation, a painful and annoyingly guilty reminder had suddenly become a source of joy, of excitement, of hope. Hope that, maybe, she would soon be ready to meet him with the same passion and enthusiasm and softness that he readily extended to her.
Hope that she would feel strong enough to embrace and accept her ever-growing feelings in turn.
That was, until her fears raised their ugly heads to remind her how unlucky the men she’d been with before had been. To remind her why she couldn’t afford to get so close to someone now. No matter how special that someone was becoming.
This encounter had been dangerous enough. Every single second she remained in his presence was dangerous enough. And it was then that she realised she was doomed and that she wasn’t going to stop giving into the danger any time soon, not when the longing in her heart was waging brutal war with the sensibility in her head and was straight-up refusing to back down.
It was too much, he was too much, and she needed a break. At least from being alone with him where the danger was ever more dangerous and he was even more tempting.
“We should go back inside, re-join the others.” She said, trying to keep her tone light and casual, and could tell from the frown shadowing the Sea Captain’s falling face that that was the last thing he wanted to do. “There’s still celebrating to do, isn’t there?”
“I thought that’s what we were doing out here,” Killian returned, indignant and confused but still keeping his tone light and almost pleading.
Emma rose to her feet, smiling at him. Her legs felt like jelly, but she managed to keep her balance fairly well all things considered. “Well, I gotta keep up appearances. They’re probably wondering where I am.”
More lame excuses, but hopefully believable enough to get him on his feet too, at least.
“I suppose you are the Saviour,” he stated with a small smile, unfocused eyes focusing on the empty glass he was holding. He had already accepted the fact that he’d have to share what little piece of her he had with everyone else, but he hadn’t really been planning to do so right after such a heart-stoppingly wonderful kiss. The ghost of her lips were still haunting his, and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act otherwise for the rest of the evening. He didn’t particularly want to head inside, but he also didn’t want to be anywhere she wasn’t. Especially not now.
And he was hoping she felt the same, as she seemed so insistent for him to join her. That hope would be the death of him, and he knew it, but she just kept giving him so much to hope for, he couldn’t help himself.
She pointed down at him with a smirk. “Yeah, and I’m afraid you’re also a Saviour tonight. So, come on, Killian. At least let me buy you a drink or something.”
He sighed, chewed his bottom lip for a moment, then stood with a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How can I say no to that?”
It was a smile Emma had grown to know well, and she didn’t want him to still be wearing it when they went inside. She remained still and contemplative for a moment as she studied his face, then dampened her lips and swiftly moved in, capturing his in a brief yet sweet kiss. When she pulled back, her eyes were bright and her smile adorably playful, reminding him just how well and truly doomed he was.
“...or that,” he murmured with a pointed sigh, but was unable to stop the genuine smile from cursing his own features. He leaned in for another, and she allowed her weak moment to continue by kissing him again.
It was funny. In these moments of weakness (and as embarrassingly weak as they were) ... she had never felt so strong.
Breaking the kiss, she chuckled against the hungry mouth that was reaching for hers yet again, foreheads and noses pressing together as taste lingered on tongues and hot sparks flew between, urging them closer.
Needing to put a stop to it before it continued (because God knows they both wanted it to), Emma mentally prepared herself to step back, but was interrupted by the sound of the door opening, accompanied by her mother’s voice.
“Emma? Are you still—“
Eyes narrowing as she tossed Hook a quick ‘I-told-you-so’ look, Emma turned on her heel to see Snow standing in the entrance, seemingly frozen in place and looking just as awkward and uncomfortable as she felt.
“Out here? Yeah,” came her daughter’s breathless reply. “What’s up?”
“I just.. came out to say that..” She cleared her throat, not that it did much to save her. “David’s buying another round before we head home, if you’re interested.” Her already softened voice broke a little, so she swallowed and gave her head a quick shake, clearly embarrassed to have walked in on what was clearly a private moment. “I’m.. sorry, am I.. interrupting something..?”
“Nope. We were just heading in,” Emma said quickly, feeling her cheeks reheat for an entirely different reason than before. This warmth was far less pleasurable.
She didn’t need to see Killian to know he was equally as tense as she was, but probably more out of annoyance from being interrupted as opposed to the juvenile sense of embarrassment from getting caught by one’s mother that she was experiencing. It was something she had never experienced before, and she was not a fan.
Managing to force a convincingly amused smile despite the tension taut in her face muscles, she said, “I was.. actually going to get the next round.”
“Oh. Great! I’m sure your dad will appreciate that,” Snow said with an equally awkward grin as Emma looked back at Hook, shooting him a small apologetic smile which made him visibly relax, just a little. Funnily enough, just looking at him had the same effect on her, too.
Biting her lip, she turned to head towards the steps leading into the neon-lit entrance her mother was already walking back into, her head still abuzz and her stomach still aflutter from the kiss’s aftermath. She was almost tempted to reach back for his hand for that extra squeeze of security and reassurance, but resisted. He was close behind, as always, and that was all that mattered.
Re-entering the diner and melting into the casual, warm reality that awaited was easier than Emma had thought, even though she now knew to prepare for a potential interrogation from her nosiest parent at some point. She met said parent’s eye from where she was sitting back in the booth’s edge, next to David who was cradling baby Neal in his arms and looking up with a smile.
Emma returned her father’s smile and stepped over to them, Hook in tow. As always.
“I see you managed to convince him to join us,” David commented with a smirk in the pirate’s direction, who awkwardly smiled back.
Oh yeah. That’s what she’d been doing.
Well.. it had certainly worked.
“What can I say? I’m pretty persuasive.” She shot Killian a smirk that mirrored her father’s, but held a hidden softness reserved only for him.
“That you are,” he returned in a tone slightly too gentle and tempting for her to cope with right now.
Before she started blushing, Emma turned back towards her family, seeing the open storybook still laying on the table in front of a smiling Henry who was sitting across from his grandparents and... baby uncle (God, that would never not be weird). She noticed his glass was empty, reminding her that she’d promised a certain Pirate Captain (and her mother..) a certain something.
“I heard you were getting the next round, but I’d be happy too since you’ve kind of got your hands full,” she said, amusement evident in her voice as she gestured to her infant brother. David certainly didn’t argue.
She went to the counter and got herself and Hook a glass of rum each, plus a coke refill for Henry. They sat with the Charmings and enjoyed easy, casual conversation with them for a short while. Snow would occasionally cast Emma a curiously knowing look, especially when she noticed her shyly gaze towards the leather-clad Captain by her side every now and then: especially when he was looking at her first, which he usually was.
He was always looking at her.
Soon, Emma was holding Neal as Hook sat at the counter to speak with the woman they’d brought back from the past. Every now and then the two would catch each other’s eye (usually because one would start absentmindedly staring first) and share a brief, sometimes shy, sometimes heated smile. Sometimes it was just enough. Sometimes it was too much. Through it all, Emma managed to keep her focus and remain present, but her heart was in a completely different realm.
Her parents finished their drinks so she was relinquished of big sister duties until tomorrow. Henry hugged her goodbye as he left with them back to the loft, allowing Emma to finally re-join her (her?) pirate, and the very uncomfortable looking newcomer he was doing his best to explain everything to.
Her hand brushed his shoulder as she approached his stool, the contact shooting electricity up to the elbow she casually leaned across the countertop. Hook looked back at her with such barely contained joy she felt her chest constrict, so she flashed him a quick smile before sliding easily into the conversation.
It was still dangerous. She still didn’t fully know what the looks and the kisses and the touches and the feelings meant, and the lingering darkness of doubt and fear still shadowed her every breath. Her every breath that he continued to steal just by being in her presence, reminding her of the kiss that still felt like a dream. The kiss that wasn’t going to leave her thoughts or give her heart (or her hormones) a break any time soon.
Otherwise, things felt.. okay. They’d succeeded, and things were back to normal. Well, as normal as they could be in fairytale capital Storybrooke. As normal as they could be while she was stuck in this weird, hazy, confusing, complicated state with the beautiful man who would soak up every ounce of her attention and affection if he could and who’s lips continued to haunt the back of her every thought.
They were both managing fairly well, all things considered. All confusing thoughts and overwhelming feelings and haunting heated kisses considered.
And then Regina walked in, causing the poor girl to panic.
And then, of course, things started to go wrong in ways Emma never could have expected or predicted, filling her with unexpected guilt and only further confirming her need to put her heart on hold.
They would just have to wait. No matter how difficult that was going to be.