AN: Baby ficlet for reallycoral. Because they need a vacation. Away from Storybrooke. The title is from Gilmore Girls and I have no shame. (2/3)
Emma sighed into Killian, her form relaxing into his as he pulled her body closer to his on the couch. When their lips met, it was like everything faded away—all the drama of Jekyll, Hyde, and the Evil Queen melted into the depths of the Underworld with each stolen breath. Even the soft rays of the sun outside were unbeknownst to them, the sparkling water of the beach outside diminishing with each breath they stole from each other.
Air becomes necessary though, no matter how badly she wants to keep her tongue entangled with his, no matter how badly she wants to breathe him in and nothing else. She rests her head against his, and she giggles. Emma Swan actually giggles.
"What, love? Can't handle it?" Killian pops the t, and to prove just how much she can handle it, Emma delves back into him again until he's groaning against her lips. His voice is husky when their foreheads are resting against each other again, and he chuckles, "Point taken." He pulls her closer with his hook, so that Emma settles into the couch and him, and her hand comes to rest on his chest, her head on his shoulder, her back happily supported by the couch, like a pair of teenagers in love.
For a second, both are content to just lay and be held. Today, no one will interrupt them. It's a stark contrast from the day Zeus sent him back home—to her. Now, their home is each other. It doesn't matter that Storybrooke is miles away and that their house—yes, their house—is waiting for them, other rooms waiting to be used and discovered all over again, until their life is a routine of banter and love and happiness.
Emma is tracing circles on Killian's chest, her fingers coming to a soft stop. Looking up at him, and beaming, she resembles the sun.
They'd picked Rhode Island because it was close. Emma could drive her "yellow contraption," as Killian called it, and it still provided beautiful scenery and an ocean, much to Killian's delight.
His eyebrows quirk up at her in the adorable way they do. "What's gotten you so happy, Swan?" Despite this, his voice sounded smug.
"I think you know." She winks at him, but her grin dissolves into something of pure awe when she sees his expression of love.
"Aye." His smile doesn't contain any remnants of self-deprecation, and the joy she feels at that has her turning and reaching up for him again, her hand finding his cheek before her lips find his mouth. He doesn't let her move far when she's done, his next question a soft mumble against her mouth: "And what do you want to do today, love?"
"I'm fine just staying right here," she says a little stubbornly.
"Shouldn't we go outside? We're on vacation, Swan. And though I didn't quite understand before, I think I'm right in saying we should go out and enjoy it instead of staying holed up in the hotel all day. Not that I'm not enjoying a certain lass's presence, right now."
His cheeky grin is what makes her concede. She gets up hesitantly, only after stealing a few more kisses from him. He shoos her away and she finally goes to the bathroom to change.
Killian's jaw drops at seeing this century's swim wear when she emerges a little teasingly from the bathroom, and this time it is Emma who has to urge Killian to change so that they can enjoy the beach, right in the back yard of their hotel.
After a day filled with the splash of waves and the shining sun and a picnic and each other, they wander the short distance back to their room. With the moon shining outside and a soft breeze coming in from the window, they lie wrapped in each other.
Killian's head is resting on Emma's stomach as she threads her fingers through his hair. She sighs before murmuring, "Maybe we shouldn't go back to Storybrooke as soon as we'd planned."
"You know I'd have no problem with that," he smiles. A soft silence passes, and then he asks, "And where to, love? Shall we stay here?"
Emma ponders a moment, wondering the best way they can spend their time together. "Well, we can go anywhere."
"Okay, Swan." Another amiable silence enters the room, and this time Emma reaches for his left arm, kisses his stump, smiling slightly at the thought of how his brace was discarded along with the rest of their clothes in the room. Killian's breath hitches as he continues, "You know I'll follow where you lead."
Love blossoms in her chest when she breathes out: "I know."