checkingout | CLOSED

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Who: Emma and her stupid pirate
Where: Emma's room
When: Sometime after Emma comes back?
What: Stupid pirate steals stupid kisses. Cute ensues. That's the log guys. ETA: NSFW. Don't let stupid pirates steal stupid kisses.

( Killian had never been overly fond of sleep. he didn't get much in any avenue of his life. he always woke early, sailing and sleeping didn't often mix. and well, it didn't get easier with the addition of nightmares he can't escape — the horrible sensation of waking up alone, one he'd battled for centuries, and yet that lonely pang isn't any easier now than it was straight after Milah died. there was a reason he avoided sleep in Neverland, because it would have been an escape in that terrible, timeless place. being here hadn't been great on his sleeping tendencies, either, not until Emma invited herself into his bed.

really, considering waking to find her gone... that he'd fallen asleep and she'd disappeared, like if he'd been awake he could have stopped it. it wasn't a shock that he'd stopped sleeping after she slipped away, up until his injury gave him no choice in the matter. he's recovered plenty since, he's not dizzy or weak anymore, even if his wrist will need a lot more time to completely heal, if it ever does. that means his sleeping schedule could very easily fall apart again, or it could have.

he figured that his behavior when she disappeared might have convinced Emma that distance was smarter. and there is a bit more distance, now, though mostly she seems afraid she'll hurt him, even though he's quick to convince her she won't. teasing her that she never seemed bothered by him in pain when she caught him over the head with something hard hadn't gotten him anywhere. she's lingering close but not at the same time, and it stings a bit knowing she thinks he's going to break all over again, even if he can't really blame her.

perhaps a part of her had wanted the distance to last past when they slept, it just hadn't worked out that way. he would get in bed, but he hadn't really managed any sleep until she joined him. it'd been mostly on accident, because even if he won't admit it, every time he sleeps he's terrified it's going to happen again. every time he wakes he is afraid the bed will be empty. only having her really lessens that fear, and even when it happens days in a row, he still can't shake the fear.

he wakes suddenly these days, and for a moment that panic is there. and then there's a slight sigh of a breath curling at his ear, the blonde head using his shoulder as a pillow tucking a little closer, as if even in sleep she's trying to remind him she's there. it works, and his heart stops racing. she stays away when they get into bed for the sake of his injury, but when they wake they're always closer. he's not sure who moves when, just that it happens, and he's not complaining.

that Emma is still sleeping surprises him, she's a very light sleeper. he doesn't want to wake her, she needs rest; they all do. and yet he can't help himself, he needs to quiet the demons that had been sure when he looked she'd be gone. he ducks a few kisses to her hair, and then he gets bold, kissing the brow that is so often lined with worry and concern, the spot that dimples when she smiles and another that puckers when she's cross. he sees that one a lot more often lately. his hand is lost, she's resting on his good arm and the other barely feels anything, so his mouth is the only tool he has. he tries to be light, steal affection he's not sure she'd grant if she were awake. it abates the fear to a quiet crawl, and that's the most he can ask for. )

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[The only problem with testing her limits is not knowing where they actually are anymore. Most of the time, Emma is good with moving slow and not screwing this up by taking things too far. They have enough issues here without complicating their relationship before they're ready, and no one has to tell her that he's invested in this. If she wants to stop, all she has to do is say so. He'll hit the showers, no questions asked.

So yeah, she knows he'd go, but that's not what she wants. If she's honest, sometimes she doesn't know what she's waiting for. Perfect moments are usually few and far between, and in her life they're virtually nonexistent. If they keep waiting for the right time, it'll never happen.

It'll be like that date they almost never went on. Killian was right to argue that they couldn't put their lives on hold for disaster. Whether they're in the hotel or back home in Storybrooke, there's never any shortage of new threats. She's always had full control of this, but after everything she's been through, she's not sure that control is what she wants anymore. Right now, she just wants him closer.

There's just a hint of possessiveness in her touch, fingers skirting along the edge of his pants before she slips her hand flat to curve along the front, lips tilting up into a shameless smirk and her eyes flashing with interest when she feels where he's straining for her through the fabric. She's not teasing anymore, at least not in the way he's used to, and he should know it when she tugs one hand into his hair just hard enough to draw him in for another taste of his mouth, palming him through his pants before practiced fingers settle at his zipper with the intention of freeing him from the confines of his pants. He'll let her know if she's getting carried away, but her flushed, nearly bare body should've been his first clue. They don't do this, but they could.

She still has to say something about it, even as she's reaching for his good hand to guide it where she wants him now. He's good at following her lead, she doesn't think it's going to take much prompting.] Touch me.

( in general, he's the first to agree that they should take their moments. just because they're stuck in a gods forsaken place with so far no hint at escape, doesn't mean they should act as strangers. he's always got a good excuse for why they shouldn't regret when they fall together, and lately he hasn't even needed one. Emma comes to his bed or he finds her in hers and they don't need to justify why. if they need to wait for perfect peace to grow in their relationship, well, they might as well never start. there could always be a reason not to. he thinks the reasons they should outweigh the risk.

that applies to many things, yet even the pirate himself is a bit intimidated by the prospect of sex. not because he suspects it'd be bad; even kissing her can leave him aching, he doubts letting the sensation will be less if they go further, far from it. and yet he's terrified if they go too fast, what will happen after. hasn't it been their story, that he battles a bit closer and Emma lets him, for a moment. and then she gets frightened and pulls back. it's something he's learned to overcome, he keeps pushing and tries to reassure her and they get back to where they started sooner or later. sex, though, if it happened before she's ready to give it...

he's not sure that he could win her back after that. because sex is so much more than kissing when they say goodbye or holding her hand on the street or taking her on a date. he's not sure he could forgive himself if she pulled away with regret instead of confidence. he doesn't want to be that status quo she's so accustomed to. he wants to be better than that for her, and crossing a line in the heat of a moment before she's ready... well, that's absolutely not something that a man that loved her should do.

it's very difficult to remember all these things as she palms him through fabric. a groan that might have started as her name before it got tangled in her lips vibrates through both of them. she's never been quite so bold and yet he's not sure that means she's not teasing, necessarily. would have been very much like her to grin like the cat that got the canary to know how much he wanted her, and then succinctly send him off to shower, and yet instead she draws his palm down her body with a husky whisper of what she wants from him.

she's right that it doesn't take much prompting. he pulls a breath away, just for a moment, pale eyes skirting her features like he's trying her superpower on for size. if there was a hint of doubt, he'd know it. he sees nothing but desire. it might be a foolish idea, yet Emma rarely asks for things she doesn't want. so it doesn't take longer than seconds for him to sink past the last bit of fabric she has left to her name.

it's not as if it's really a surprise to find her aroused, but gods it's gorgeous to feel it. she's soft and wet silk under his fingers, and it's a delightful wonder to experience a part of her he's never been allowed before. he's hardly paying attention to the way she's trying to get him free of his trousers, committed only to kissing her as he traces slightly through her arousal, getting harder by the second as he does. his kisses get a little harder as he presses at the soft pulse of her arousal, wanting to feel her body shiver from it. ) Let me kiss you. ( it's whispered into her mouth, because he already is, so that means he wants to put his mouth somewhere else. she probably doesn't need to guess where. he doesn't need her to return the favor, but he's hungry for her to a point she's never enabled before. they'll both get release one way or another, even if his is from his own hand, but he hopes this is a limit she's willing to stretch because he wants to know what she tastes like. )

[Truthfully, she doesn't know what she's doing. None of this is planned; none of this was ever planned. Killian started off as a villain who she was trying to get away from, and just kept coming back. It didn't matter how many times she pushed him away or rolled her eyes at his persistence. He was there when she needed him and willing to wait until she started to want him around, too. Now when she thinks of her own happiness, it's a life that includes him in it. It's the home he brought her back to, the family she'd been separated from, the son she thinks of every day. She doesn't know how she would get through this without him, but she knows that so far, she hasn't had to. He's the one who thought he lost her, and while that's behind them, it's something he's still healing from.

It could be too soon, that thought might've very briefly crossed her mind. She doesn't want to screw this up any more than he does, but they've been moving forward. Back home, he told her that she was his happy ending and he was afraid of losing her. There are no guarantees that either one of them is going to end up happy, but they have plenty of time to figure out what all of this means to them. They'll never be happy in this place, but being with him is as close to it as she's going to get. Whenever they leave their room, they're only reminded of how miserable they are here. It's having him beside her that makes all of this a little more bearable, and if that means getting a late start at breakfast today, it's not the worst thing that could happen.

She could stay up here for hours just to hear him groan and stutter her name. A few seconds and the slow slide of his touch across her body and she nearly does the same thing, fingers working against his pants while she gasps against his mouth. They need this, they do. Destruction and violence don't seem to work here, so why not experiment with a form of release that doesn't involve taking their frustration out on inanimate objects? She can even guarantee a bruise or two, which might make this the healthiest option they have right now. Stress relief in the form of ignoring the rest of the world and focusing on each other.

Emma could use a million excuses to justify this, but the whole truth already exists in her eyes, dark with desire and a narrowing band of green. If she's supposed to act like she doesn't want it, she can't. She's through with giving in to her worst insecurities when it comes to him. He's had his opportunities to leave and used them to prove how willing he is to fight for her. She doesn't want him to feel like he's constantly fighting her on something they both want. This feels good, almost overwhelmingly so even with just a few careful fingers teasing her exactly like she asked.

It'd still be better if it was skin on skin, and her hands are working toward that exploration when he decides to take things a step further, his mouth growing insistent while writhes beneath him, seeking out more before he decides to let that take on a whole new meaning with what he asks for permission to do. It's not the way she thought a pirate would word it, and for that, Emma tilts her head just enough to break from his kiss, huffing a gentle breath against his lips.] You call that kissing?

[That's not what she calls it.

Still, she grins against his lips, lowering her head until her mouth is on his neck and she can distract him with a few actual kisses and the pull of her teeth. She's not always comfortable with what he's offering to do. Sometimes it's too intimate, or too awkward. There have been a few times it's been disappointing, but with the way her body shudders from the work of one very determined hand, she's betting that won't be the case with him. He's not like anyone else she's been with.]

Okay. . . kiss me. [If he needs to know she means it, she captures his lips in another languid kiss, licking into his mouth like they have all the time in the world. They do, but she still eases back and draws in a breath, fingers tracing patterns across his skin. If they are going down this road, they'll do it together - but she doesn't hate the idea of going first.]

( she's likely right to laugh. going down on her is a little bit more than kissing. it's an elegant way of putting something that is far more carnal, and suffice to say the pirate in him wouldn't call it that either. she always tends to draw out something in him that he hasn't been in centuries. he always claims to be a gentleman, he rarely bothers to really act like one. the phrasing suits... what he's asking to do, well, maybe not so much.

that breathless laugh, more like an exhale, is a painfully attractive little noise, now isn't it? the languid grin she gets in return is far more befitting the pirate. ) I'll start with kisses. ( what a gentleman! start with a few nice kisses... sucking and licking and tasting could come after.

she is doing a very bad job of distracting him with those kisses she splays over his skin. he mumbles a hopeless noise at the bite of her teeth, body pressing into hers a little more insistently, fingers pressing to match. no, her body language is not saying no... and neither does the whisper into another kiss. quite the opposite, actually. despite the boldness of the request (phrased sweetly or not), it was impossible to not think she'd refuse him. there's a distinct thrill up his spine at the permission. it's farther than they've ever gone, all of this is uncovered, uncertain ground... and if he's supposed to be thinking about if it's too soon, well, it's lost in the roar of how badly he wants her. hopefully she won't regret what she's allowing him when the heat of the moment surrounding it burns away.

his teeth catch at the swell of her lower lip, and it's very difficult to pull away from the patient sweetness of that kiss, the tempting curl of her tongue against his... yet he aches to taste another part of her, and now that she's given him explicit permission, well. he's not going to let the moment slip him by. he doesn't ask if she's sure, because Emma wouldn't have agreed to it if she wasn't. in fact, he's pretty certain asking her if she is sure after she's already given him permission will just end up with her taking it back again. Emma has a wonderful confidence in what she wants and what she likes, he's always admired that about her.

it hasn't translated to what she wants from him until just now, but he likes it just as much in his direction.

his hand slips to curl at her hip, a slightly wet grip from a few simple touches, and his dark head bows down her body to let his mouth travel down it. making up his promise already, a kiss to every inch of decadent skin, even though he has a clear trajectory. his teeth graze at her hipbone as he drags her underwear back, in a flash of pirate more than gentleman; maybe this will be easier for her if it's less a man that loves her and more a man that wants her desperately. (in the end, she's going to get both.) it takes them both to tug the fabric free and he only cares enough to get it off one leg, it's hooked carelessly at her knee and he can't be bothered to strip her completely. not when she's finally naked underneath him and she's bloody gorgeous — in a better moment he could just savor the way she looks, with the flush in her skin and the arousal in her eyes and her body.

today is not a better moment, because he thinks he might go a bit mad if he doesn't kiss her already. she might be feeling the same.

he draws her hip over his bad shoulder as he settles between her legs, and even in his impatience he manages a few kisses up the sensitive inner plane of her thigh. though his greediness might show in the lack of caution, the fact she might have a bit of a burn from the stubble on his face after this is over... oh, well. hopefully she'll forgive him. he runs a greedy palm over the flat of her stomach and the soft curve of her sex, teasing fingers tracing her like he'd forgotten what she felt like in the minute it's taken him to get here, eyes set on her face as he leans in to kiss her and gods, he might never come up again. the kiss is just for a moment, before his tongue is too determined to taste every inch of her he can find. )

[ He starts with kisses. Soft kisses, teasing kisses, something gentle coupled with the unintentional scrape of his stubble. Emma knows exactly what she's doing here, there's no need to ask again. She's aware of the intended path of his lips as they move down her body, and the careless way her underwear are left wrapped around one leg when he abandons his effort to remove them in order to continue his descent. It doesn't occur to her to be nervous about him seeing her like this, bare and wanting - aching - for the first time, but she's always had enough confidence to assume he'll like what he sees. The rest of it is harder for her to believe, because Emma has always been good enough to sleep with, but good enough to stick around for? Good enough to travel through worlds with? No one has ever done the things that Killian has for her. He's gone out of his way to make her feel like she's worth the trouble that chases after her like a shadow. A savior's shadow, maybe that's what it is.

They both know he rarely gets to follow her into anything good, and this hotel is just more of the same. This place has a way of making her feel useless, like nothing is ever going to happen no matter how hard she fights to get out. And maybe that's why it's become so important to stick close to Killian; to hover whether he likes it or not. They curl up in one of their beds and it helps, he seems better, more at peace here. There's nothing else here that she can influence in the slightest, but he draws her close and she holds on to him, and for a few hours at a time, she feels like she's helped someone.

It doesn't apply here or now, but when it does, it's something worth trying. This might be worth trying too, but that has nothing to do with the hotel or what might keep them together. If anything, this might make things worse.

Still, it's hard to imagine that this is anything but good when his lips brush the tender skin of her inner thighs, like he's afraid he might miss the opportunity to pull some reaction from her before he puts his mouth where he wants it. He teases with the knowledge of what he's about to do, where he wants to go, and for as long as he's been waiting for the opportunity to do this, she can't even claim that it isn't fair. How many times has she sent him into the shower instead of enjoying this the way she wanted to? She would grumble some kind of demand but that might say too much, and in reality it's probably only seconds that just happen to feel like forever before his fingers resume their path.

It's not that she never thought this would happen, more that she never wanted it to have to happen here. If nothing else, this has become their bed instead of her bed, and there's not much chance of interruption. The fact that the pirate's crawled halfway down it puts him in position for her to lift her leg over his shoulder, and if not for the way he's nuzzled between her thighs, she might be more careful with his bad shoulder. She can't seem to remember much of anything when he starts using his tongue, laving against a spot that earns the groan building in the back of her throat and the softened, heated focus of her eyes.

One hand slides into his hair just to be able to touch him, to have some kind of hold on him in all of this, not quite tugging, but curling into a grip that allows for the bite of her fingers against his scalp. It's a wordless demand for more, for anything and everything he's willing to give her. If she'd known it was going to feel like this she might've given in sooner. She's never seen Killian do anything without throwing his whole self into it, and those first few strokes of his tongue might be slow enough to savor her, but they're just enough to get her wondering exactly how much quiet she's supposed to be here.

Silence was never going to happen, and quiet's not even guaranteed. He's determined to take more and she's desperate for it, tension instantly tugging at her stomach while her eyes close for a second or two before she realizes just how badly she needs to watch him.]

( if she needs the confidence in helping someone, well, the savior has always been that for him. she may not see herself as the light he has followed from his own encroaching darkness to find shore, in fact he doubts she does; he doesn't remember confessions about happy endings and the fear he'll lose her because of what he's been, he has no idea he's put words to the things she makes him feel. he thinks it would terrify her, and honestly, maybe it did.

doesn't make it untrue, though. before her, he was a monster, without her, he goes back to being lost. having her near, being able to take her in his arms and fall asleep with the sallow comfort that they still have each other, for however long this place will grant them; it does help him. one of an infinite spread of ways Emma helps guide him to be better, just by being who she is.

he even thinks this is better, just because of everything between them. he's existed so long on empty sex that it holds little shine for him anymore. there's heat and spark between them, yes, but there's emotion too. he can't chase it out of his touch even if he wanted to, and honestly? the first time he gets to touch her, even being a greedy git, he doesn't want to. she'll get lust and love in equal measure, but luckily with his mouth busy and his tongue twirling around something quite far from words, she won't have to wrestle with that idea today.

he's not considering his bad arm, doesn't mind when one leg matches the first. and he's also not thinking about how they likely should attempt some modicum of reservation, mumbling a noise of approval at the hint of her nails against his scalp, pressing his mouth to her even more hungrily in reward. the vibration seems to echo through both of them, and he loves how she quivers under his touch, the soft noises she's making. it all just drives him harder, makes him want her even more. honestly, that shouldn't even be possible, and yet here they are.

for once, he's not aware of being spectated. for his heated glances before, no, now his eyes are closed, or very intent on his work. he thinks every inch of her is beautiful, down to the most intimate part of her, and well, he's going to relish his time here just in case he doesn't get another shot any time soon. he frees his hand from an unconsciously tight grip at her leg, crossing that final barrier and letting a few fingers sink inside of her, his own arousal nearly painful at the feeling of her tight and vibrantly hot around his fingers. they've never talked about it, but her body reads this is the first time she's had someone inside of her in some time, and he wants to make sure he's more impressive than the last. his fingers don't mean his tongue is going to stall, though. oh, certainly not.

hopefully she doesn't mind both. he said he'd start with kisses, not that he'd only stick to them. )

[That promise of kisses completely slips her mind when he gives her more, not just his tongue but his fingers too, her chest heaving upwards with another needy intake of air. It's been a while since anyone's done this for Emma, and years since it meant anything to her. Still, it's so easy to recognize the difference now, between what she's used to and what she has with him.

Killian sees himself as a villain, but she sees a man who deserves more than her usual uncertainty. She's never not wanted this, but it's a step that brings them closer than stolen kisses and letting him put his arm around her at breakfast. He used to take whatever he could get, whether that was a one-time kiss or a chance to invade her space when she was trying to sort out what Storybrooke needed from her. What he has now is someone who is completely with him in wanting this.

She can't pretend it's just sex, or a moment of weakness. It's not weakness that he brings out in her, it's strength. Sometimes it's for him, sometimes it's because of him, but he betters her in ways she never saw coming. There are plenty of things that she doesn't know how to say, things she used to be afraid to feel, bits and pieces of a broken heart that suddenly seem to function again. Isn't that what he said back in Storybrooke? If it's broken, that means it still works.

They're all a little bit broken here, but he finds ways to let her know he's with her. She's gotten used to waking up beside him, and she could get used to this too; to intimate moments that have her thinking about him instead of everything that's wrong here, watching while he pulls new sounds from her with dedication, tongue and fingers unrelenting in their effort to bring her pleasure.

If there's anything about this that's going to come back to bite her, it's how often she's going to relive this now that they've gone this far. It's not enough to have her moaning and writhing beneath him, fingers tugging into his hair when she realizes he likes it. He just keeps pushing his luck, taking her a little higher with the way he licks, sucks, and fills her with his touch, like he needs this to be memorable when it already is.

All Emma can do is give in, easing back so that her head is pressed against the mattress, one foot sliding against his shoulder until the arch of her heel is flat against his skin, toes clenching and her hips shifting to take more. Her spine curves to match the way her legs are bent around him, chasing sparks that are quickly roaring into a fire. He didn't even have to try this hard if he was trying to prove himself, she was already there.

She already knows it's not just lust that drives him. There's more than that there, and maybe she can handle that too, because that might be what makes this different. Nothing compares to being with someone who truly matters to her, who she trusts, and cares for, and feels herself drawn to even when she's at her worst. For a woman who spent so much time chasing after the wrong thing because it was easier than risking the hurt of a good thing, this might be exactly what she needed.

And if it's not, if it ends up being awkward or uncomfortable, then she'll brave that later for how overwhelmingly good this is in a place where everything else sucks.]

( truly, it's unfair how many sensations this draws out in him. it's maddening and overwhelming, and as desperately as he wants to memorize and savor each one, he's not sure it's possible. should he commit to the taste of her on his tongue, or the blessed sounds she makes — the slide of her skin on his, from her thighs pressed close to his ears or the flat of her foot running down his back. he'd appreciate that gorgeous bend of her spine if he had any mind to notice, instead he just appreciates how the curve brings her closer. he'd like to be aware of every last one, and instead they all twine into one perfect creation and it's impossible to really separate one from the next. not even if he might have liked to, and truly there's something to treasure in every part of this. maybe he'd have liked to.

he's too distracted in everything to remember that he's supposed to keep his bad hand off of her, and bandaged and all, it falls on smooth path of her stomach, and even though feeling isn't much returned yet (except for pain) he can feel the heat of her skin and the oddest tingle under his fingers. he can't press and he can't hold yet it's just another way to touch her and he hopes she won't deprive him of it.

for all his desires to be with her, and his certainty that she will be his happiness if he will ever find any, he'd honestly have thought it was a joke if she told him he made her better. no, that surely doesn't make any sense. Emma is the savior, a hero. he may have turned from villainy yet that doesn't erase the blood on his hands or the darkness in his heart. he can't make her better, it's a grim realization. a better man would let her go, knowing he isn't her true love. her meant to be. she might be his happiness, but is he really hers? sometimes he wonders. perhaps he'll always wonder.

he might not be her happy ending, he might not be her true love, but he loves her and he wants her and he would do anything for her. it might not be enough forever, yet it seems to be enough right now. if the way her body reacts is any indication.

Hook isn't too worried in the moment that this will ruin them, though such fears have held him back every moment until now. if she pulls away from him, well... it's not that he won't expect it. yet he hopes that they're at this moment because she's just as ready for it as he is. he desperately wants her to be. right now, all he can focus on is trying to find her release, and it seems to be a task he's very dedicated to. not quite selflessly, considering he strains against his trousers with how much this act turns him on, yet dedicated, certainly. it's true, there's very little in this place to look forward to or to find much joy in, and if he can give her this one thing, well, he'll be here all day if that's what it takes.

considering the way her noises escalate and her body quivers and tightens, it probably won't take all day. rather a shame, that...

she'll have to forgive his pace slowing, a little, as he feels her draw nearer to the edge. perhaps he should have eaten her out like a man deprived for centuries the entire time to truly sell that this was sex and not something that needed to alarm her, and yet he pads out his kiss with more luxuriating curls of his tongue, breath heavy as he tries to write his name into her like that might make her his. his fingers move inside of her and curve to explore, coaxing her farther and farther, wanting to feel the etching of her orgasm in every way he could possibly experience it.

...well, not every way, but. there's something quite remarkable about a woman breaking on his tongue, and he thinks it'll be even more remarkable with her. )

[ A man deprived for centuries might have been more familiar than the one who slows down to keep her wanting, to drag this out instead of rushing her to a peak that she already knows isn't far. Leave it to Killian to be too invested to rush her through it; if she had been expecting anything maybe she would have been expecting that. He never goes for the least he can do, and with her, he seems to go above and beyond.

She can barely breathe the way she's supposed to when she's nearly trembling under the heat of his tongue, breath catching and then coming out in deeper exhales. He can't have every way he'd want to feel this here, but that might be the one thing she still isn't ready for. The one thing that probably shouldn't happen in a hotel.

Then again, she thought this wouldn't happen either. She thought they'd get out of here in a few weeks and end up picking things up back in Storybrooke. There was never much of a plan for their relationship, only possibilities. If things went well, then they'd keep seeing each other. if he decided to stick around, maybe she'd let him closer. In her memories it all feels like it happened, but she can't say the same of his. He doesn't know what their relationship would have been like if they'd gone back, but Emma does.

She knows that it doesn't matter what world the two of them end up in, they always seem to find their way back to each other. There's some kind of comfort in knowing that, especially with how rarely everything else makes sense here. The hotel can try to separate them, but it won't matter. They have something they're both willing to fight for.

And if they think they're going to take him away from her, they've got another think coming. Emma's lost too much to add him to the list.

She's briefly aware of the touch of his bandaged hand, but that isn't the kind of thing she's going to be making demands about when she's already decorating his given name with enough swears to make her sound like as much of a pirate as he is. He can't use that hand to hold her down, and she can't keep herself still, rocking into the thrusts of his fingers and the swipe of his tongue. She's probably the one who should be more careful with him, but any kind of rational thought went out the window when Killian asked to kiss her, and the tension building inside her makes it all a lost cause.

She reaches for purchase where she can, clawing at the sheets, his hair, anything to give her something to hold on to. How long has it been since she's had an orgasm from someone else's touch? Two fingers and she feels full, nearly complete with the way he lets this build and makes it last. Her moans, her breath, his name, anything that falls from her lips is rough and ragged, skin too warm and damp with perspiration, her thighs flexing on either side of him when the tension builds to it's breaking point.

It's so much heat, warm and brilliant, waves of pleasure that send her crashing through her orgasm, shuddering beneath him while she calls out his name like that'll make this last. For a fairytale savior, a few moments of pure relief and just letting go are worth everything and thensome, and even when she eases her hold on his hair, she still gives him the quickest tug of a warning. That's all, maybe more than she can take.

And even with what she was expecting, better than that.]

( no, he doesn't remember all the things she does. for all they've talked about her experiencing during her time away, the things between them somehow didn't come up. he doesn't remember the way they drew closer after Rumpelstiltskin was removed from Storybrooke, he doesn't remember the valuable bits and pieces of herself she shared with him while Ingrid was threatening the town, he doesn't remember meeting to trade coffee and a kiss nearly every morning before he sets off to work on freeing faeries he doesn't remember trapping. this isn't exactly the path they're meant to take, according to her memories, but for all the horrors in this place, Emma is the one thing he thinks he's doing right here.

the truth about his hand unravelled quickly, and he's tried to be honest with her since. he makes missteps on occasion, not letting her in when she's trying, assuming she'll see the worst because sometimes, that's all he can see in himself. they've found an unlikely balance, they give each other some sort of comfort and reassurance that little else can give here. it's not an ideal place for them to get closer and yet in a way, they've always found their strength against adversity. it's just that this time, they don't have to face it alone.

his choice to draw her out longer, keep that flame burning instead of letting it sizzle to completion, earns him more reaction that he'd ever have expected out of Emma Swan. she is so determined to keep control, protect herself by keeping most of her reactions to herself. the rare times he really sees her weaknesses, it's generally due to being too overwhelmed to moderate them, though lately Emma has made the willful choice to let him see his weaknesses. if anything that just makes him more determined, giving her an ending but drawing it out to keep her at this beautiful state of passion. there's no way she's thinking about being trapped or the dangers of this place when she's carnally curved to his touch, the gasps and swears and mutters of his name a gorgeous song that he'll be thinking of frequently now that he's heard it. a part of him doesn't want it to be over, but that isn't quite possible. isn't possible for anyone, including a savior.

when she finally hits the edge, it's brilliant sensation, muscles twitching and the pulsing reward from his attentions under his mouth and tightening around his fingers. he makes a ragged sound because gods it's beautiful and honestly a little painful, because as much as he wants to make this about her and her pleasure, he wants her so badly he quite literally aches with it. she tugs at his hair, a wordless hint, and somehow he understands what it means without asking. they do have their moments of understanding, don't they.

he slides his fingers back slowly, crawls back up her body to rest on top of her, body pressing down against hers as his head lands just above her navel. his arms tuck around her without thinking, and it might have hurt if his attentions weren't scattered to everything else about this moment. his mouth is still hot as he kisses the skin underneath him, just wanting to hold onto her as she melts into the blankets. his eyes are shut, trying to will himself down and just enjoy a chance to hold her and be close to her. there's something about the afterglow, and he's missed being able to hold a woman he loves in the haze of completion. sure, only one of them has it, but they're halfway there. and the fact she gave him that freedom means a great deal. he's not asking for more.

he can be content with just this. )

[ Halfway there, and he doesn't have to ask for more. She never considered this being one-sided, but Emma steals a little time to come down from the high, sinking into the mattress with her hands coming up around him and her eyes closed. Breath comes out in soft, steady pants and her touch eases from the tug of her fingers through his hair to her hand stroking through it. She doesn't want to be the only one who gets off this morning, and her interest doesn't stem from any kind of obligation. If it did, she'd be planning her escape instead of wondering if she could push him over without hurting the hand he's slipped around her. It's surprisingly nice to be able to enjoy this with him, and while she's content with this, she's also looking forward to what comes next.

That's saying something in and of itself, because she rarely looks forward to what she has in mind right now. Though that's her past talking more than her present, since she's never done any of this with Killian. Most things are just different with him, and she's not afraid to recognize that. It'd be harder to admit it out loud, but when she can keep her thoughts to herself and still have him curled up on top of her, all of this feels manageable. It's probably just the orgasm talking, anyway.

It won't be until those thoughts come back later (when they're in a completely different situation) that Emma might get nervous again. Old habits are hard to shake, she can't help it.

If nothing else, he has to know that this isn't anything like what she's used to. They've both had enough casual sex to know that it doesn't end in two people holding each other. That's a level of intimacy she never thought she'd want again, but all of her nevers seem to have pirate exceptions now.]

That was a hell of a lot more than a kiss.

[It doesn't matter how overwhelmed she is by what she's feeling, Emma still finds it in her to giggle at how he framed that. A kiss. For all of the fairytale talk about the power of true love's kiss, there's probably something to be said for his version of it, too. She opens her eyes and lifts her head, propping herself up on one elbow just enough to look down at him, warmth and amusement and lingering want in her eyes. As far as she's concerned, they've gone too far to stop now. And it wouldn't be so bad to steal a page from his book and offer it up the same way he explained it to her, would it?]

Now roll over and let me kiss you.

[He's barely undressed, why didn't she notice until now? It seems unfair to Emma that she's the one completely naked in this scenario, but instead of reaching for anything to cover her, she'd rather even things out by getting the clothes he still sleeps in off of him. She's the one who cut back on that first, spending most nights curled up in his bed in a tank top and a pair of underwear. When it comes to her body, the savior has plenty of confidence.

Now that she's undressed, she might stay this way until it's time to head down for breakfast. He's already seen everything, right?

The proof is in how she feels right now. Nothing's changed outside of this room, but somehow, she feels a little lighter. She wants that for Killian, too. Wants to be the reason why he falls apart under her, wants him to feel like all of this was worth the wait. It was, in her opinion.

She'd like to get him there, too.]

( a lot of things seem more manageable after an orgasm, funny how that works. he wasn't trying to use oral sex to make her forget how unnerving it is to be taking a leap of faith emotionally after both of them have spent far too long alone. no, the idea was more to make her forget the stress of the hotel for a little while, and he hopes that he was at least successful for as long as it takes for her to come down from her orgasm. stolen cuddles can't be that alarming, can they? they've done this (with a great deal more clothes) before, more or less... though there's a wonderful intimacy to it now that he's resting on top of her, the taste of her on his tongue, feeling as she slowly climbs down from the high.

it's long enough that he's less aching with arousal. no longer blindly painful. Emma really doesn't need to worry about both of them getting off — whether she touches him or not, there's no doubt he'll fix his own problem when he makes it to the shower. and with the delightful chorus of noises and the decadent display of skin he has to aide his imagination, she'll truly be there in spirit. he'd rather hold her than wheedle for more. if going down on her was greedy than surely asking she return the favor is out of the question. there's something very comforting about her warm and pliant underneath him, fingers in his hair. the fingers that still have the ability to ambulate trace idle patterns into the skin of her shoulder, and he doesn't move until he feels her shifting underneath him.

his head lolls onto her stomach rather lazily to catch her eye. he's not sure he's ever heard Emma Swan giggle before, but now that he has he'll try. the grin he parries back is half boyish, half cad. ) An extended kiss. ( better? no? he chuckles at his own phrasing, because the laughter is due, kissing her stomach a few more times because he suspects this is the part where he's going to get his orders to head to the shower.

that's not what he gets.

a brow lifts — the pirate and his eyebrows, they seem to constantly be exercised — and he watches her for a moment, as if he's waiting for a punchline that never comes. a better man might protest, wonder if this is the best idea, slow and steady wins the race. apparently he's not that good. he eases the bad arm out from under her with the slightest of winces, before rolling off her and shifting high enough that he can bury fingers in her hair and draw her down for an actual kiss. oh, he knows that isn't what she means, but he wants to kiss her anyway. she tastes quite good, and he's willing to share. )

[An extended kiss is what he gives Emma when he pulls her close, letting her taste herself on his lips. She's sure he's heard her giggle before, but maybe it was in that stretch of time that he can't remember, because this isn't the happiest they've been. They had more peace at home, getting coffee in the mornings and walking to work together. It wasn't as intimate to share lunch at the station or meet up at Granny's for dinner, but those are the moments Emma would like to share with him now, preferably with her own place where he could stay the night and wake up beside her in her own bed. There's no reason why they can't have this back home, and now that they've taken that next step, she almost wonders what she was waiting for.

... For something better, if they could have had it. That perfect scenario where they were home and they had their lives back. But he's the one who likes to remind her that happily ever after is complicated, and while she doesn't see him as a villain anymore, she also doesn't expect the way out to fall into her lap anytime soon. Trapped here, the time they spend with each other is just about the only good thing they have left. It makes sense to cling to it, to keep him close. The kissing doesn't exactly fit with things that make sense, yet she's not too concerned. - Not when he's stealing the real thing and presumably ready for the extended version. Is that what they're going to call this now?

She could probably get used to it.]

Feels like you could use one of those. [Her smile was softer before, but it's wicked now, warmth in her eyes sharpening from relief to excitement. She's glad that he seemed to enjoy himself, there's just this matter of balancing things out now. Her clothes are scattered on either side of the bed, but his are still covering his body, and if he expects her to stay naked, it's time for the pirate to join in. Emma's all too happy to help, distracting him with actual kisses against his lips, his jaw, his neck; just about anywhere she can get them provided that she can pull his open shirt off of his shoulders and guide it down his arms. His bad hand always brings out her gentle side, and when the fabric is low enough on his arms for her to show caution, she does, letting him help her while her lips wander where she can feel the throb of his pulse.

Killian took his time, she's considering taking hers. She's also working toward taking him out of his pants.

There's more skin to roam, to mark, and while she didn't originally set out to claim him, she doubts he'd mind a few reminders he can cover up with his discarded shirt. She knows he's had more than enough bruises since arriving at the hotel, but going off of the numbers alone, what's a few more?]

( no, he doesn't remember those quiet moments they used to share. that doesn't mean he doesn't want them, though. he's a rather atrocious pirate, all things considered. Killian Jones has traveled worlds, sailed to many beautiful places, lived more than one life at this point. was it really so odd that he wanted something a little more secure? he'd lived so long with no roots and no connections. now all he wanted was to make those with the woman he loved. it was slow going, yet worth it. every step of the way. he wanted quiet meals and easy dates and walking her to work just as much as he wanted intimacy. call him greedy, but he wanted everything she had to offer.

which makes it easy to accept her offer of a kiss of her own. he tended towards calculating at the best and worst of times. as long as emotion didn't sink through his better sense, he was generally quite cautious. as it was now, it seemed he had no hope of being sensible, worrying that this might be too much, when he was so blinded by desire. Emma probably could have suggested trying to lop off his other hand and at the moment he might have let her. she wouldn't offer if she were not confident, would she? and that wicked quirk of her lips didn't seem to be a creature with a great deal of lingering doubts.

it was good that one of them still was capable of being careful. he'd have ripped his shirt straight off, and that wasn't wise when he only had a few in the hotel. not to mention the injured wrist that her touch carefully skated over. he was only half-heartedly attempting to assist, more interested in trying to to draw her back into his lap, terribly impractical when it came to taking his pants off. he might have forgotten he was even wearing them, if they weren't so dreadfully tight at the moment. leather was lovely up until he was aroused, and then it was downright beastly.

it wasn't the most comfortable of things to sleep in, it was just the man didn't actually have pajamas and sleeping naked next to Emma wouldn't have flown very far. perhaps that was bound to change after this. he certainly didn't see any need to wear a shirt any longer at the very least... she was welcome to do the same, he'd bear no complaint.

he tries to return the favor of all the roaming kisses, to the best of his ability. harder when she was so set on stripping him and exploring skin she hasn't seen before. it does seem fair to let her have a chance at it, when he greedily took advantage of exploring her body earlier, even if it only proves to set his frustration another level higher. Emma's exactly right that the pirate won't mind a mark or two, though he finds it a bit ironic. as if he needs a bit of purple to mark him as hers, when her name may as well be scrawled across his blacked old heart. )

If I didn't know better— ( his voice clips a bit at another graze of her teeth, his hand tucking into messy blonde as it always seems to. he can't keep his hand out of her hair, has never bothered to try. ) —I'd worry this was a hint you were missing breakfast.

( all the nips indicated some kind of hunger, but perhaps not for food. not that Emma would lack that, either. chances were good the pirate would go fetch her breakfast so she wouldn't have to leave bed for a little longer. if it meant Emma would be naked in his bed, he'd be happy to. )

[It's possible that they might be able to make some changes to their nightly routine going forward. What Emma wears to bed has shifted from jeans, boots, and layers to just enough to stay covered. Since he's not going to be wearing a shirt, she might claim one of his overnight and see where all of this takes them.

If leather's a bitch to sleep in, it's even worse to get him out of, and the way he tries to keep her close doesn't help. She can't be on his lap and take off his pants at the same time, no matter how eager he is to see if he can have it both ways. At least Hook gets a distracted laugh for whatever he's trying to get out of her, and the pull of her teeth to remind him just to let her do this. If things were different, maybe he'd have his way and she would be on top of him instead of peeling the leather off of him, but even if Emma was ready and willing to go for it, they don't have what they need to be safe. The risks they take here need to involve getting home, not giving in to impulse. There's a good chance she wants this as much as he does, but they have to be smart about it.

As smart as two people can be when they get one meal a day and they're currently missing breakfast. Somehow, she thinks they'll survive.]

Should we break for pancakes? [If he didn't know that was a joke, he should by the time her fingers wrap around his cock, exploring with her touch while her lips press to his good shoulder. She can want this and still be a little out of practice, the pad of her thumb brushing across the tip of his dick, letting him twitch and grow harder still in her hand. It's easy enough to start like that, just the swirl of her thumb and the stroke of her hand, but Emma's as greedy as he is when it comes to wanting more. He wants kisses? She's happy to take her turn crawling down the bed, but she's not nearly as interested in making this come off as something as simple as kissing. They've been doing that for months. It still does plenty to her heart when he leans in for a kiss, but it's not the same as wanting to take something that used to be empty and allowing it to be meaningful again.

This is different. It's something he's had to work toward, and for that alone, she'd like to think she might be able to make it worth it. He's waited long enough that Emma doesn't waste any more time, starting with the slow, wet tease of her tongue along his length, one hand sliding against his thigh while the other keeps him in her grip. She's aware of his reactions, knowing he's still healing from what he's been through, and that's at least one of the reasons why her eyes wander up to check on him, her tongue rolling steadily along the head of his cock in soft, slick strokes. If there's any benefit to letting her come first, it's that some of the urgency's gone. She's not going to rush through the first time they do this, even if she could make quick work of him here. He deserves a chance to unravel like she did, and that starts with her wetting her lips and easing them against him, parted enough that they drag against his cock when she takes him into her mouth.]

( if he likes the look of her in the undershirt she wears under whatever excessive layers she's fancying at the time, he'll certainly like the look of her in his shirt just a little bit more. there's not anything of his that Emma isn't welcome to, it's just that his clothing is far easier to share. his thoughts, well, that is still difficult very frequently. he's working on getting better at it, though. no secrets, anymore; a relationship not based on honesty is not a relationship at all.

he knows what her intentions are, he does, and yet he's hopeful to get more out of this. not necessarily penetration, either, even though his understanding of protection is far from hers. he is dementedly hard, and yet if he had a naked savior in his lap he's fairly sure he could hold out a bit longer. kiss more of her, enjoy this a little longer. as it is she laughs at him, a rather sexy laugh granted yet a bit of a a refusal all the same, fingers hooking to drag the leather free. he lifts his hips to help it free, shifting to rest his shoulders against the headboard, sitting up instead of laying back. oh, he could have, if he wanted to... but the fact that he knows what she wants out of him means he wants to watch her as she does it. laying back would make that harder. sitting up makes the process a little more difficult for her, and yet in the attempt to make this intimate instead of just release... watching her is a big part of that for him.

he hardly knows what pancakes are the moment she curls her fingers around his dick. if he's expected to be clever, she'll be disappointed. instead her name falls from him, two broken syllables; Em-ma. that's about as clever as he's going to get, rapt with her touch and she's barely even trying to set him off. all right, well, maybe he's worse off than he even allowed himself to realize... or might be that her touch effects him far more than his own does. he's just hopeless enough to think that's so, true love or no.

he almost doesn't know what to expect from her. if she wants to explore, if she's testing her own boundaries as well as his. there's a confidence in her actions that is incredibly familiar, and it's even more effortlessly sexy to him when her palm is curled around his cock. he's not vocal in bed, not that Emma knows that, but it's been a very long time since he's experienced what she's giving him. knowing it's her, knowing how he feels about her, just compounds everything in the most beautiful way.

his wrist still is healing, yes, yet his head seems better than it's been in weeks. he has a clarity and a focus now, that he hadn't had before. she doesn't need to worry over whether his body can take her attentions. it can, most certainly. his good hand digs in her hair, dragging it out of her face and over her shoulder as she licks and savors and gods, he's not sure how he waited this long. yes it was the right thing to do, but suddenly he's not sure how he's existed this long without sex. Emma might not realize she's inspiring a monster. once is never enough for a pirate. once was really never enough for Killian Jones, either.

for being a pirate, his vocabulary was generally not that dirty. so the curse he exhales, learned in her world (and maybe from the sheriff herself) and not his own, is perhaps a surprise, but if anything deserves a fuck, it's the way she feels with her mouth wrapped around his cock. his fingers tighten in her hair and he doesn't mean to pull, he just can't quite help it. his grip might be tight but it isn't leading; if he knows anything about Emma, it's that she wants to make her own path. and if he's honest, he wants to know how she'll take him, how she wants this to happen. any way she likes will suit him more than fine, considering how blessedly wonderful it feels to have her tongue pressed against him, her lips a welcome embrace. )

[That's a word he learned from her.

Pride kicks in at the thought of teaching him some of her bad habits, not just picking up bits and pieces of the pirate life from him. They've learned a few things from each other, and at this point it's hard to tell the good things from the bad. Most of the time it all blends together the way it's supposed to; the way two people in a relationship are supposed to influence each other. He's changed her whether he knows it or not, given her a reason to let someone into her heart again without the immediate fear that it'll all go to hell. It still can, and for all she knows, maybe it still will, but it won't be because he chose to cut and run. They've worked too hard for what they have now.

So she's not going to worry about how this might change their relationship, because the only way it's going to change anything is for the better. All they have is time to figure this out, and nowhere to run if some of her bolting instincts kick in. It's true that there's nothing good about being trapped here, that she would choose for him to be safe before she dragged him into anything like this, but with all of the darkness that surrounds them every day, giving in to one type of temptation might be enough to keep her from giving in to the rest of it. She can't run away from him anymore, and even if she could, she's in this by choice.

There's plenty to learn here, too, particularly when those soft lips slide over him and and his grip tightens in her hair. He doesn't have to be vocal in bed for her to know that he needs this, and not just the one time, either. There's the instinctive need to urge him deeper, slender fingers taking the rest of him with her touch. He's right to think that she wants to do this her own way, but her way involves seeing what he likes, what makes him pull on her hair, what gets him to close his eyes when they both know he wants to watch. Killian doesn't inspire the same treatment as a one night stand, there's nothing hurried or mechanical about the heat burning in her eyes while she has him at her mercy, no pre-determined path for the drag of her tongue while she slips him between her lips. They can make time to lay around and enjoy the afterglow later, first there's this matter of kissing the pirate that Emma needs to follow through on.

And she's blatantly committed to this, possibly even a little smug about it when she sees what she's capable of doing to him. Avoiding intimacy was great when she was coming off of heartbreak and too deep into denial to let anything happen between the two of them. Lately, she's found that her instincts tell her to do the opposite; to let him into her life, to keep him close, make sure he knows that he has a place there. Emma's not sure how far she's getting with that when there have been so many setbacks along the way. He's as bad as she is when it comes to their insecurities, but she's always known he wants her. It just seemed easier to discount that as empty attraction, as him being a pirate, than to think he wanted the role he has now. He fought his way into it, past every one of her defenses, and yeah - she likes that he's the defenseless one for a change.

She likes the sounds he's making while she's sucking him off, fingers reaching everywhere her mouth hasn't gotten to while she sets her pace. Slow enough to drag this out, quick enough for him to know that she's enjoying herself, too, using her tongue and her lips and the heat of her mouth. It's enough to get warmth racing through her veins again, and there's a confidence to be found in her movements when she feels the slight rock of his hips, unintentional and quickly restrained. If she's supposed to take that as anything less than encouragement, then he doesn't know her half as well as he thinks she does.

So when she hums her content, she does it right around his dick.]

( she's taught him a little more than just a few expletives, that's for certain. she's taught him how to get back toward a path that's straight instead of crooked. she reminds him to make the right choices, even though they're hard. she's shown him how to be good again, even though it's very true he's not exactly graceful at it yet. compared to that man she met under a pile of bodies and the one she left at the top of a beanstalk, he's changed a great deal, and all of those changes do have her as a motivation. not just to be with her, either; she'd told him once that he could be a part of something, that he could have a place, and he wants nothing more than that. he's working to earn it, and it was only later that he's learned that he wants more than just a place.

he wants a place with her. call him demanding, but he's willing to fight for what he wants. wait as long as he needs to. he's existed so long on his own and not wanting anything aside from a death satisfied by revenge. now he wants home, a place, someone that matters to him... all things that Emma has reminded him that he used to want a very long time ago.

it's true, he's not going to run. he's spent a lifetime running, and now he wants nothing more than to hold still and slow down. he's tried existing without her and he knows that's not a life he wants any longer. the hotel has only punctuated how true that is. so if this changes anything, they'll find an answer. they always do. their fears tend to be their highest hurdles yet Emma has reminded him they're worth making. if she can make those reminders to work when it's easier to give up, then he can too.

he hopes she's not going to regret this. gods, nothing about that look in her eye as she lets him sink sinfully deep in her mouth doesn't scream regret, now does it? no, she looks like she knows exactly what she's doing and even more she's devilishly pleased by how lost he is to her. ironic, really, because he's been showing her all the ways he's lost to Emma Swan for more than a year, now, and usually they seem to scare her more than anything. still, if she wants to be proud of this, bloody hell, she should be. he's done this before, to the point honestly getting head is a bit dull. yes, it feels nice, but it's more exciting to explore someone new. what he likes never changes, he preferred the thrill of earning orgasm from a woman. men tended to be easy to please, for women finding the right spots and the right speed and touches was always different, with every partner he's had. and Emma seems to be taking the same intent explorative quality to getting him off, when really she could have finished him just as easily with her palm if she'd wanted to.

no, she wants this, she works him with intention and passion, she finds a rhythm and sticks to it, when he makes a noise or his grip tightens at a particular touch — an unexpected graze of teeth or the way her tongue curls under his head, or the way she tightens her mouth around him just so for a fleeting moment — she makes sure to do it again. he's just as much a slave to her as he's always been but it's entirely more obvious now, with his hips lifting toward her attentions even as he tries to stay still, eyes falling closed in waves of sensation even though the last thing he wants is to miss a second.

she's going to ruin him. she wants to, perhaps, with that pleased hum around his dick, and his head bounces off the wall as his head falls back with a dark noise of approval. he doesn't notice the flicker of pain in the rush of everything else. his breathing is ragged as he tries to cling to whatever inch of control he has left. it's meagre and as much as he wants to pad this out forever, he knows it's impossible. ) Emma... ( he can't keep on like this, not with the combination of being so aroused after he was through with her and the intentionally gradual way she's worked him, not to mention; it's been quite some time since he's had sex, oral or otherwise. he doesn't count his own hand, because this is so much different than that.

he's greedy and wishes he could hold out longer, but he can't... and she deserves a bit of a warning before he breaks. )

[ It's taken a while for her to learn that she can be openly passionate about what they have now. This place doesn't inspire a lot of confidence, and Emma has already seen what it does to him when she disappears for a few days. They're starting to depend on each other, which might be a good thing if not for this place and how it twists everything good into something wrong and regrettable. They can't lean on each other without feeling weaker for it, without worrying about what might happen if they wake up alone one day. Everything they that they're given here just gets taken away, so maybe it won't be long until the two of them are separated again and it's for more than a few days.

They've been here for long enough that she's starting to wonder if she's ever going to get home again. Long enough that she's afraid her son is going to grow up without her and the town is going to lose their happy endings to Gold. There are things she still feels responsible for that she can't change from here, and maybe Hook is right - maybe he will lose his shot at a happy ending now that the two of them are trapped here, but the only thing they're guaranteed are the moments they have right now. They'll fight to be together, to get home, to find their footing as a couple someplace better than this, it's just that if they keep letting this place put in the distance for them, then they've lost everything already.

So she won't run if he doesn't. She won't let her fear get the better of her if he's there to hold on to. And no, she won't regret that the circumstances could have been better if what they're doing here lets them feel something more than the misery they've been dealing with lately. It's been one thing after another with her leaving, coming back to a man who lost control when she disappeared, trying to help him heal and making sure his hand doesn't get worse. There are times when he looks at her like he's expecting her to walk away, and she won't. She doesn't want to; what they're building is worth holding on to. It was worth it without this next step in their relationship, and while she's glad they're on the same page, this isn't as important as learning to trust him.

But now that she's done that, now that she does trust him, she's not afraid to let him see the spark in her eyes. Yes, she wants to ruin him, wants him as breathless as she was, as needy as she was, likes the slow slip of control when he lifts his hips and his head drops back against the wall. It doesn't matter if it's because of how long he's waited or what she's doing, it's still something new that she's able to give him, muffling a moan while her lips slide along his cock, nearly quirking upwards at his warning. She can feel the tension in his body while he starts to get closer even without him trying to let her know he's close, and if it should make her pull back, it doesn't. What it makes her is a little sloppy, and a little more determined, taking him a little deeper, a little quicker, sliding his cock over her tongue and keeping her rhythm whether he can handle it or not, mouth tugging around him just a little tighter while she works him toward the edge.

Emma appreciates the warning, she just doesn't care.]

( it's true, he looks at her like he expects her to walk her away. it's not entirely a learned fear from her tendencies to keep distance to protect herself, either, though he's certainly seen just about every angle of that too. he expects her to turn around because he's lived a lifetime of that. other than Milah, other than his brother, he's not had anyone in his life bother to stay. he told her once on a beanstalk that all orphans had that look about them, that he'd seen on too many faces in Neverland. that was true, but he knew the look because he'd been there before. no matter how far away he got from that boy that his father had left behind, he'd likely always exist. between Emma's uncertainties and the lingering reminder he hadn't been good enough, even before his path to villainy, what hopes did they really have?

he doesn't know. she has a confidence he still doesn't. he might spend a lifetime learning that Emma could care about him despite his flaws. it seemed fair enough, considering Emma might need a lifetime to know that he'd never leave her. that the way he felt about her meant for him, it was her or nothing; and he'd lived in loneliness and emptiness long enough that he'd fight for what they had. for him she was so much more than a happy ending or good sex or an incredibly attractive blonde (though she did happen to be all of those things). she was this masterful mix of so many things, a chance at life and love and meaning. those were things he'd let go of for centuries for revenge, up until she'd reminded him that he could be more than that.

perhaps he'll never be good. he doubts he can ever really remove himself from who he was once. who he'd become for revenge. those good parts of him left behind, though, Emma brought them out. made him feel more like Killian Jones than Captain Hook. that he savored that connection, that he'd fallen so fast and so hard, couldn't really be that much of a surprise, after he'd been drowned so long in black and dark.

it was a fair warning, he thought. he's imagined this a great deal, behavior more befitting a thirteen year old boy than a man of three hundred, yet none of his imaginations manage to do her reality justice. there's this steadfast determination in everything Emma does, this current of confidence when she's doing something well and she knows it. this certainly applies. he's seen her practically defiant in her determination to show him what she can do. in a way, it reminds him of that kiss in Neverland, you couldn't handle it—

she might be right, considering he breaks with a horribly embarrassing noise if he had any awareness of it. he might have been trying for her name, who bloody knows anymore. his hand clenches unbearably tight in her hair, he'd feel bad if he could think about anything but the blessed hit of release, a tightly wound knot in his gut spiraling out of his control, limbs tightening enough he feels he might nearly snap before luxurious cast of completion sits in after. it's possible he forgot to breathe for a bit in there because when he remembers he has to, they're ragged and heavy. like he's done a whole lot more than just have a woman suck him off. he's had this sensation before, only with Emma it's so much different, so much deeper, so much more... connotations he'd used to think meant something, before New York. now he can just reason it as very defined sexual chemistry and leave it at that. whatever it is that makes an orgasm feel like an enlightenment, he's not going to argue.

though when he can move, he's going to draw her up to kiss her again. hell, that was the bargain, right? a kiss. )

[He's not wrong to think things between them are different. Before New York, Emma never read into those things. They shared exactly one kiss because she was feeling good about herself and he happened to be there, not because she had any interest in building something beyond that.

It wasn't until he showed up in New York and reminded her of who she was that she knew how far he was willing to go to help her. And even then, Emma didn't know what it had taken for him to get back to her, what he'd given up to get through another portal and outrun a curse. It was always easier to write it off as him chasing a conquest than caring about her. He didn't like her for who she was, he liked her because she wasn't interested.

Even Emma Swan can admit when she's wrong, and she knows now that she was wrong about him. He didn't like the challenge, he liked her, and it was her own insecurities that made her miss it. They've grown in the past few months, showed each other pieces of themselves they used to lock away, but those memories are hers and hers alone. If he knew what she does, he might realize that Emma is starting to think it's more than very defined sexual chemistry at work. It's having someone in her life who accepts her, supports her, and wants more than sexual chemistry and a quick exit.

She used to look at other couples and think they'd achieved the impossible. Now it all feels possible, it's just not easy. With them, it's not going to be.

As embarrassing as his sex noise might be, it doesn't pull her from the moment until his hand loosens in her hair and she's slipping him out of her mouth, listening to him pant for breath while he pulls her up to the top of the bed. She didn't do anything more than suck him off, and if it earns that kind of reaction, she can't help wondering what he'll do when they're ready to take that next step toward something more. For now, she withholds a laugh when he greedily pulls her back into his arms. She's supposed to fight it. Post-sex cuddling has never been discussed, but considering how he goes in for a kiss and holds her close, Emma isn't going to fight it. They're already late for breakfast, what's a few more minutes?

Besides, the breakfast spread doesn't change from day to day. They know exactly what to expect down there, every person who they'll see. This is something new in a place where nothing changes, where everyone is miserable, where she spends the majority of her day wishing she was someplace else. It might be nice to take half an hour and pretend they're not trapped in this hell. She won't mention it if he won't.

And if he tries, she'll distract him with a few more kisses.]

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