"What?! That's ridiculous, sir! You can't honestly expect me to tutor him. If you can't make him learn, what the hell am I supposed to do?"
"Miss Swan," Mr. Gold began, sneering at her from his desk. "Mr. Jones has made no secret of his distaste for me and you are one of the most able students I have ever taught. Unfortunately I cannot just fail him, without giving him the chance to make up his grades."
"But what about my own study?" Emma answered, trying every method she knew to get out of this, already realizing that it was a lost cause. "I can't just…"
"You'll have enough extra credit to cruise your way through Senior Year, Miss. Swan," he finalized, eyes flashing. "I suggest you take it."
Emma walked out of the room incredibly grumpy. She went to her next class feeling like she had this great weight over her head. Reluctantly, she'd agreed. Which meant that first thing this afternoon, she was meant to meet Jones in the library.
And she was dreading it.
She knew his type. The bad boy with a bad attitude who didn't care about college or common morality, just fucking his way through every cheerleader he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on.
And now she had the misfortune of teaching him.
He was already waiting there when she arrived, which was the first surprise of the day. The next was when he had the prescribed textbooks open, a pen tucked in between his lips, and a brow furrowed in concentration.
"You can read?"
Emma hadn't meant to sound so sarcastic, but she did, and it was kind of, very, rude.
"Yes, Princess, alert the media," Killian answered without looking up from his book.
"Well, you obviously know why I'm here," Emma began, giving Killian a once over. He was a ruggedly handsome figure – his hair mussed artfully – his sleeves rolled up, showing off his muscles. But she was not affected by him. Not at all.
"Gold doesn't want anyone ruining his reputation as the best teacher as the school," Jones answered, finally looking up. "Are you going to sit down?"
"Do you even need my help, or just a kick in the pants?" Emma retorted, sitting – more like – slumping into her seat across from him.
"I just need your presence, love," he answered, giving her a flirtatious wink. "It's motivation enough."
"Flirt with me again, Jones and I will have you in detention for the rest of semester."
"You don't have that kind of power, Swan," Jones quirked his brow. "Just like you don't have the means to make me work hard. All my energy is directed towards the field."
"Yes, the world knows that," Emma answered, rolling her eyes. Meaning everything on the field. Running, throwing, thrusting…
"But I'll give it a shot," Killian shrugged, returning to his textbook. But Emma caught sight of the late college application sticking out from beneath his books. With a raised brow, she murmured, "Aha."
And gathering her own books, they proceeded to work in silence.
Two Weeks Later
"Hey Swan."
Emma was jerked out of her stupor in the back of the library. She was close to falling asleep and he just ruined it.
"This had better be important, Jones," Emma groaned, rolling her head to try and get the crick out of her neck, only to feel two hands on her shoulder, lightly digging in. It took a moment for Emma to realize he was giving her a massage.
"Are you trying to butter me up for something?" Emma asked, looking up at him stonily. "It's not going to work."
"Not at all, lovely Swan," he answered, his blue eyes sparkling mischievously. "It just seems my essay got me an A minus and that is all thanks to you."
"I doubt my nagging really helped…" It was really hard to talk when his hands were working magic on the tense knots that were her shoulder.
"Just your riveting companionship," he answered with a shit-eating grin. "By the way, I believe David and Mary Margaret are having dinner tonight. Want to gatecrash?"
"WHAT?!"
Killian jumped away from her and the librarian eyed her beadily from across the large expanse.
"Sorry!" Emma whispered to the librarian, before spinning to Killian and hissing angrily, "What?!"
"Your best friend, uptight, nerdy, prudent, Mary Margaret, has been asked to dinner by my mate, David ."
"I don't believe you," Emma answered stubbornly. "She'd never agree to that."
"Just like you'd never agree to dinner with me, Swan," he answered with a wide grin. "So I'll pick you up at six?"
He was walking away before she even had a chance to blink.
"That was not a yes, Jones!"
"Wear something sexy," he answered in a carrying whisper before slipping out the door.
Emma groaned in frustration before her head hit the table.
"I'll assume your underwear is a lot sexier than that, Swan," Killian said, folding his arms over his chest as he watched Emma descend the stairs. She'd thrown her hair back into a ponytail, but other than that, looked as though she was prepared for a night on the couch, binge-watching Criminal Minds.
If he hadn't dragged her away, she probably would have.
"I love this," he said when she didn't answer, fingers tugging at the bottom of her jumper.
"Hands off the merchandise, Jones," she snapped. "You better have me back by eight – I've got Criminal Minds to watch."
Spot on, Jones, he cheered himself as he pulled open her door.
Emma eyed him carefully as she slipped into her seat before closing it and heading around to the driver's side.
Emma wasn't keen on talking to him, fiddling instead with the loose threads on her jumper. The car was empty of sound aside from them soft lull of acoustic music from the radio. He might have been able to deal with the silence, that is, if it was comfortable. But instead, it was strained and terribly forced. So after a few minutes, he began, "We're going to Granny's. In case you were wondering."
"Okay," she answered, eyes looking out the window as the world went past. Killian was struck by how beautiful she actually was in simplicity. He wasn't sure if he'd ever noticed just how green her eyes were. Or that when she was uncomfortable, she fidgeted.
She was uncomfortable.
"Do you want me to take you home, Swan?" He asked, a little unsure. Perhaps this hadn't been a good idea. He really had just wanted to take her to dinner as a thank you but he'd been expecting a little bit more of her usual snark and sarcasm. He wasn't quite sure who the girl next to him was, but it wasn't the girl he'd come to know.
"No," she answered rather quickly, and Killian's brow furrowed.
"Did...something happen at home, Emma?"
"No..." Emma trailed off before turning to face him. "You don't think less of me? Because of where I live?"
"Not at all," Killian answered in surprise. "You do realise I live about five blocks away."
Emma's eyes widened in surprise. "You do?"
"Yep. Me and my brother," he said, turning the corner, "and before you question the car, it's the one thing my mother left behind for us, so I couldn't sell it. But I'm happy to live in the dodgy part of town - especially now that I know you live around the corner."
He was glad when he caught her smiling.
"They're holding hands," Killian murmured, being the one who had a semi-clear view of the couple.
"That's disgusting," Emma answered, shivering before throwing a fry into her mouth.
"And why is that, Swan?" Killian probed, turning back to her, "Are you so opposed to your best friend dating? Or is it because he's friends with me."
"Neither," Emma answered, with a grin, "I just think their life is their life, and we shouldn't be intruding."
"Intruding!" He mocked, a hand going to his heart in fake shock. "How dare you think this of me, Emma Swan?! Who's to say it wasn't just me trying to trick you into a date?"
"It was definitely you doing that," Emma answered knowingly and he sighed melodramatically.
"And I was trying to be subtle."
"That has never been your strong suit, Jones," Emma laughed.
"Ice cream?"
"Are you trying to make me fat?" Emma asked, smiling despite herself. She was actually having fun and it was unusual for her.
"You'd need to eat an elephant to be fat, Swan," he grinned, turning the corner on the way home to stop by their local ice-cream store. "Let me guess," he continued as he turned off the engine. "You're a vanilla lover."
"Rocky Road," Emma answered with a grin. "And a lot of it."
They entered the establishment, leaving moments later with two waffle cones piled high with rocky road.
"This tastes like a creation of the gods, Emma," Killian groaned. A groan that did not create a warm feeling in the pit of her stomache. Not at all.
They sat outside for a little, but in silence. Emma however, did notice the not-so-subtle glances he was shooting her way. And rather than making her feel uncomfortable, instead, she felt happy. This felt more like a date than a thank you. And she was loving it.
By the time Killian was dropping her home, it was just past eight, but she didn't hold it against him. Instead, she breathed out with a smile on her face when they arrived, waiting for Killian to kick her out. But he didn't say anything, and she hated awkward silences, so she broke it with an, "I had a nice time tonight."
"Me too," Killian smiled, "Better get back to Criminal Minds, eh?"
"Yeah," Emma grinned, making to get out. That was, until she realised she didn't want this night to end…
"Want to watch a few episodes?"
Killian didn't take a long to put his car into park and answer with a wide grin. "Love to."
School on Monday was a strange occurrence. Not for any other reason than Killian and her were on speaking terms. Lunch was at a table of mixed groups which was so strange considering se normally picked a tree and napped beside Mary Margaret.
Instead, Killian was trying to get her to eat whatever disgusting pasta was on the end of his fork in a vomit-inducing display of affectionate camaraderie.
"We aren't dating, Jones," she reminded him.
"I know," he answered, still holding it up to her face. "But if you haven't eaten fettucine, you haven't lived."
Emma knew he wouldn't stop, so, she took a bite. A bite, mind you, making sure that the rest fell into Killian's unsuspecting lap.
It wasn't bad to be honest. Emma didn't cook for herself that often. Granny, who she worked for, always made sure she had food. And for that Emma was thankful it meant she had more time to study.
"That's amazing!" Emma moaned, as she swallowed. "God, you are cooking for me everyday!"
She missed Mary Margaret and David's smirks.
"As the lady wishes," Killian said finally, "Once you've bought me a new pair of pants."
Killian: Hello my beautiful Swan
Emma: Bit late for texting, Jones. Go to bed.
Killian: But I'm having so much fun! Did you know that Robin supplies all the alcohol at his parties? Free booze! Come join.
Emma considered it, taking one glance at her flannel-dressed, sock-wearing, bra-less self and gave a weary sigh.
Emma: Be there in ten.
When Emma eventually did rock up to Robin's party, she heard it from a block away. Luckily, it was David who opened the door, sending her in the direction of the pool where Killian was lounging. Unsurprisingly, he had two cheerleaders hanging over him.
Emma hated the feeling that dwelt in the pit of her stomach at the sight.
But Killian saw her immediately, his face giving her a lopsided smile as he got unsteadily to his feet. The two brunettes on either side of him were affronted by his movement, but he didn't care. When he arrived before Emma, he pulled her into him in a surprisingly suave move.
"You're looking particularly beautiful tonight, my Swan."
"And you're seeming particularly intoxicated tonight, dear Jones," Emma chuckled, pulling away from him. "So, what are we doing?"
"Want a drink?"
"Sure," Emma grinned, following him to the bar, getting a very good view of his ass as they went. She wasn't feeling so bad about it now. Not after she'd seen him lick his lips at the sight of her décolletage. Oh yeah. She was working it tonight.
With a vodka raspberry in her hand, and her dress off revealing a bright red bikini, Emma and Killian were sitting on the side of the pool, feet dangling in the blue water, laughing and joking and:
"Let's dance!"
"I…don't dance," Emma answered, as Killian stood up, his hand outreached. Emma smirked, ignoring his offer and instead, sliding easily into the water. It was only then that she offered her hand, continuing, "I do, however, swim."
"Thankfully, I do too," Killian answered, slipping into the pool beside her and wrapping his hands around her waist. She was flush against him in a split second, his hard chest touching her sensitive areas making her feel all kinds of deliciousness in the pit of her stomach.
"Are we dancing in the pool?" Emma murmured.
"There's music isn't there?" Killian breathed, his breath upon her face. He smelt of rum and she…
She wanted to kiss him.
It hit her like a freight train. And maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the proximity, maybe it was the fact that he cuddled very well whilst watching TV.
Or perhaps it was because their dancing was simply grinding and they were wearing very little.
Killian's hands travelled down her body, beneath the water to rest upon her waist. But the way he was rubbing small circles into her stomach was distracting her drastically. It was inevitable. She was going to kiss him.
Unless…
"I want to kiss you, Swan."
"What's stopping you?"
Nothing, apparently. Because in that moment, Killian Jones kissed her. And it wasn't one of those pecks you got from nervous freshman behind the bleachers, this was impassioned. His lips were like fiery coals and she was burning.
His tongue battled hers for dominance and she loved it – fighting him back. Gripping his hair in her hands, she pulled, biting down on his lip, feeling all the arousal fill her as she heard him groan.
"I want you, Emma," he groaned, fingers tracing up her body, curving around her breast. "God, I want you."
Her legs were entwined with his, so she could easily feel him growing against her thigh. She rubbed against him, grinding herself on his leg as she tried to gain some relief from the weeks of sexual tension.
"How do you want me, Jones?" she whispered, teeth nibbling on his ear, as he pulled at her erect nipple through the thin fabric. She was so glad that they were alone, otherwise things could get very awkward very fast.
But they were alone.
And they were about to have sex.
In a pool.
Inebriated.
"You're drunk," Emma breathed before Killian could answer, too distracted by her neck to speak. "We can't…"
She wanted to, but he was so intoxicated. She wouldn't take advantage of him.
"You don't want this?" he murmured into her neck.
"I want it…" Emma groaned, pulling away through the water. "When you're sober. I want you to pick me when you know what you're doing."
"I know exactly what I'm doing, Swan," Killian answered, his eyebrow quirking. "And you want it."
She got out of the pool before anything else could happen, watching the darkness in Killian's eyes consume him as he gazed at her wet body. She grabbed a towel from a pile and hurried towards her dress, carrying her heels in her hand as she headed towards the loud music.
"Emma," Killian was calling from behind her. "Emma please, wait."
His hand was pulling her arm back and she took that opportunity to cut him off, hand colliding with the side of his face.
"Don't," she hissed again, before leaving him there, nursing the side of his face in confusion.
Emma was avoiding him. She hadn't texted him, she hadn't Facebooked him, she hadn't even sent him a stupid snapchat and he was at his wits end.
Slipping his phone out, he added another message to the list.
Killian – We still on for study?
Emma – sick.
Killian – You can't keep avoiding me like this Swan.
Emma – I'm sick. Do your maths.
His eyes widened in surprise. She knew he had maths now? That was weird.
Nevertheless, he did it anyway, thinking perhaps, she was telling the truth. And resolving to make everything up to her with some homemade chicken soup.
The second she opened the door, Killian felt his smile drop. Her face was red and puffy, nose rubbed raw and hair a mess. Emma Swan looked like someone had dropped a thousand germs into her morning coffee.
"You should be studying," she murmured, her face frowning.
"Don't frown," he replied, sliding between her and the doorframe, "You look like a prune. I brought soup and bread and hot chocolate."
"I do have my own hot chocolate," Emma answered, coughing racking her body afterwards.
"You have a very good couch, in front of the TV," Killian answered, shooing her towards it. "Go. I'll bring you food."
Putting the soup in a bowl he eventually found, he brought it to her, feeling remarkably content as she sidled over to make room for him. He handed her the soup which she gratefully took with a small, "thank you."
"And I'm sorry," he continued, leaning back into the sofa. "For the party. It won't happen again."
"Oh…okay."
He couldn't help but do a little dance inside as he heard her disappointment. And as she started up Criminal Minds, he openly grinned. He was still in the game.
"No…no…Neal. Stop. Please…stop…"
"Emma, shh, Emma, it's Killian. You're okay, you're safe."
It was dark and Emma wasn't quite sure where she was until she smelt him. It was Killian, for sure. He was all warmth and the sea. Why did he always smell of the sea? How did he even have time to go to the beach?
She stilled, realising that his arms were around her, trying to comfort her. They'd fallen asleep together. When, she didn't know. But it was nice.
"Emma?"
"Hey," she whispered softly, looking up at him with a soft smile.
"Are you okay, love?" Killian enquired with a furrowed brow. "You were crying out…"
Hands pushing her down. Weight. Grunting. Darkness.
"No," Emma whispered, pulling away and taking her blanket with her. "You need to go."
"Emma?"
"Please," Emma pleaded, looking up at him as tears came back into her eyes. "Just…"
"He hurt you didn't he. Neal."
Emma's eyes fell to the floor before she left, walking across the apartment towards her bed, where she literally collapsed. It was empty, but she didn't know if she wanted comfort. She didn't know if she wanted him to stay or leave. To hold her or leave her be…
"I'm sorry," Killian breathed, coming to the end of her bed. "I'll go."
"No."
She shot up as Killian reached for the light switch to turn it off. "Don't…"
They were silent for a moment, just trying to read each other.
He turned the light off and came to the bed slowly, as though approaching a wild animal.
"I don't bite," Emma whispered, trying to smile.
"Neither do I," Killian answered with his devilish smirk. "But if you let me into your bed, I do become quite the cuddle-monster."
"Is that what I should call you from now on?" Emma laughed as he slipped under the duvet. She followed him quickly, glad of the warmth. "The cuddle monster."
"Only if you want a cuddle attack," he replied.
"Okay Cuddle-monster."
When Emma awoke the next morning, she felt arms around her, holding her close and safe and she didn't run. With a split second, she knew it was Killian, and because of that, she was okay.
Killian stirred as she awoke, his face burrowed into her hair, nuzzling at her neck and ticking her.
"Killian," she chuckled, as his nose rubbed into her neck. "Killian, I want to sleep."
"Mmm," he murmured, "You snore."
"I'm sick, what did you expect?" Emma answered, wanting to turn over and face him, but not wanting to share her germs with him.
"A bit more grace, dear Swan," he whispered, tugging her closer. "I have to go to school."
"No," Emma grumbled folding her hand over his, "You're too comfy."
"Alas, that's not a reasonable enough excuse to give at Home Room."
Emma finally relented, letting go of his hand with a loud sigh. "Fine," she exaggerated, rolling off the bed and immediately pulling her hair into a messy bun to avoid awkward bed-hair comments.
Mind you, looking back at Killian, his bed hair would have made any woman swoon. He noticed, wiggling his eyebrows at her with a smirk.
"Oh – go to school."
He was back at two o'clock. Ice-cream in tow and a shitload of books to work through. Emma didn't open the door for him, but when he jiggled the handle a bit, it swung open.
The sound of her snoring met his ears and he found himself smiling at her body, curled up on top of the quilt, mouth wide open and arms splayed onto what he now termed his side of the bed.
Despite the fact that he'd only slept in it once.
And she probably wouldn't let him do it again.
Dumping his stuff by the couch, he ventured towards Emma's sleeping form and crawled onto the bed with her, waking her up as he did.
She made a disgruntled noise as she awoke, coughing lightly and peeking an eye open to find him staring at her with a grin.
"Hey cuddle-monster," she whispered, yawning. "Back from school already?"
"Couldn't keep me away if you tried," he answered with a warm smile, hand coming to rest on her waist.
"You didn't have to." Her brow was furrowing. She was pulling away.
So he held on tighter.
"I want to."
Emma looked at him with such fear and hope in her eyes and that was the most confusing of all.
He snuggled closer to her, whispering, "May I kiss you, Swan?"
Her brow furrowed, but she didn't speak. And so, cautiously, he drew closer, his lips brushing hers lightly, sparking with static, before she pulled away. Not fearful, but embarrassed.
"My breath is disgusting," Emma whispered.
And then she sprinted.
Why the hell did he want to kiss her? Who did he think he was? Stupid, Killian with his handsome face and gorgeous body. With his charm and his hugs. God, she liked him.
You liked Neal too.
"Killian's different," she told herself adamantly as she pulled her toothbrush out and proceeded to brush the feral taste of air out of her mouth. By the time she exited the bathroom, Killian had set himself up on the coffee table, his pen darting across the page in his round cursive that she had come to love.
"You want a drink?"
"Water's fine," Killian answered, looking up at her, "I brought ice cream for later."
Emma smiled. He really was different. It was strange, to actually feel that someone cared. But she was on edge. Because the other night, when they'd kissed, it was more than she could have dreamed of. And she could kiss him again…
"Gold said you don't have to tutor me anymore," Killian said as Emma came to sit down next to him, pulling the blanket off the couch and over her shoulders.
She read and he worked in silence, arms brushing and comforting.
But after a while, Emma snapped her book shut, and turned to face Killian, directing towards him, "Do you like me?"
"Of course I like you, Swan. I wouldn't have spent the last month at your side if I didn't like you."
"Then…you'll kiss me?"
Killian looked up from his work then, a playful smile upon his face. "I will, will I?"
"If you want to…"
But then he was kissing her. His lips molded against hers perfectly, shaping and teasing. And then his tongue was tasting her lips and tangling with her tongue and Emma had never felt more at peace than in that moment.
And when they pulled apart, it was just to breathe. Emma rested her forehead against Killian's and whispered, "I like you."
"I like you too, Swan," Killian grinned, his fingers coming up to brush her cheek tenderly.
This was going to be quite an adventure.