Killian has to chaperone the high school Christmas dance, and he asks Emma if she will accompany him.
double coverage.
He bought her a corsage.
She fingers the holly berries tucked neatly against a single red rose as they drive to the school, Christmas music playing lightly on the car radio, fighting back a smile and the burning in her eyes because she went to prom – she did the high school dance thing – but she was six months pregnant and Neal had been late and drunk and this is –
– this is nice.
He is nice.
(And funny and charming and kind of dirty-minded, now that she thinks about it, but she likes it – likes every piece of him and sometimes she thinks she might even love him and it should scare her more than this, right? It should be scary.)
(But it's not.)
"Are you sure Henry is okay with my bringing you?" He glances over at her from the corner of his eye as they turn into the school parking lot, passing crowds of teenagers running back and forth in poorly made formal wear. He scowls, and she laughs. "I don't want him to – "
"Be embarrassed by his lame mom at a school dance?" Killian shrugs like he can't quite argue with her and she flicks him in the shoulder. "I caught him sneaking out a blanket and some snacks in a backpack, so I sincerely doubt my dear son will even make it to the dance."
The car jerks to a stop as he puts it in park (the man and his vintage vehicles, honestly) and he shifts in his seat, letting the engine run and the music linger in the little bubble around them as he reaches for the end of her hair. He loops a strand lightly around his fingers and tugs, smiling when she leans forward and meets his lips.
He tastes like the hot chocolate she made him while she was getting ready – sweetness and spice and everything nice.
(She definitely loves him.)
"Well then I owe him great thanks."
Her grin spreads a bit wider, even if he talks like he's from another freaking century.
-/-
She's right about Henry. He doesn't show at the dance and she smirks a bit to herself because the kid is too much like her for her own damned good. But he is smart and kind and she doesn't worry (much) about what sort of adventures he is up to with the pretty red head he was supposed to take to this thing.
(The text message 'Lily and I decided to bail and hit up the wharfs for some debauchery – just kidding, maybe. Have a good time tonight and don't get Killian fired from his job.' quickly followed by 'I'll be safe, I promise. I love you, mom.' certainly helped ease the ache in her breast bone when she saw him clatter down the stairs in a hoodie instead of his dress shirt, backpack over his shoulder.)
She, however, is scarred for life by the things she's seen from the general high school population. She's sure it wasn't like this when she was in high school – the way they grind their bodies up against one another in some weird sort of tribal sacrifice dance. But then again, she got pregnant in high school, so maybe it's not so different.
"And you teach these kids?"
Killian's face pinches together as he scans the crowded gym, the reds from the mood lighting above casting his face half in shadow. He sips at the punch cup in his hand and slides a bit closer to her side, arm wrapping around her shoulders when a pack of boys stray too close, their beady little eyes lingering on the hem of her dress line.
"Aye, and I do think this is the last time I volunteer for a school dance." He finishes his drink and places it on the snack table they are supposed to be monitoring. "Would you like to get a breath of fresh air?"
She's come to learn that when his eyebrow arches high on his forehead, she will definitely like the results of whatever he is thinking.
Plus, the music (if she hears Fireball one more time, she might explode) is starting to give her a headache.
"Hell yes."
-/-
Apparently fresh air means his classroom, because she finds herself leaning on his desk ten minutes later, his door carefully clicked shut. She hears him flick the lock and she definitelylikes whatever was going on in that brilliant mind of is, tilting her head as he slowly walks over to her, letting her eyes linger on the way he looks in a white, fitted button down and red tie.
(His hair is still a mess, chaotic like he's just rolled out of bed – like her fingers have spent the evening running through it or gripping on to it for dear life.)
"Your tie matches my dress." She says quietly, liking the way the darkness and shadow wrap around them. Everything feels still and peaceful, and the way he's gazing at her is doing weird (amazing) things to her stomach.
He rubs his thumb along the collar of her dress, her breath hitching when he grazes the skin at the tops of her breasts.
"Hmm, so it does." He shifts a bit closer to her, forcing her back further against the desk until she's leaning her full body weight on to it. There's a sign over his shoulder that reads 'T.E.A.M.W.O.R.K, The ability to work together toward a common vision' and she's never been more on board in her life.
"Did you know, Swan," his hand grips at her hip as his nose bumps against hers. "That you are supposed to kiss beneath the mistletoe?"
She tilts her head back to look at the ceiling, and sure enough, there hanging neatly from the ceiling tiles that have seen better days, is a small bundle of mistletoe with holly berries that suspiciously match the ones around her wrist.
"Well," She licks her lips and grins at the sound he makes. "I sure hope this was all prearranged and you haven't had mistletoe hanging over your desk all week, because that sounds like a felony waiting to happen and I've seen the way those girls look at you and some of the – "
He cuts her off with his mouth on hers, stealing her breath and pulling her closer. She closes her eyes and falls into him, gripping his face between her palms and letting him guide the pace, a moan catching in her throat when he lifts up on her hips and slides her back on his desk, pens and pencils and a stack of papers crashing to the floor.
"This some sort of weird fantasy of yours?" His mouth is under her ear and he is definitely showing signs of 'P.E.R.S.E.R.V.E.R.A.N.C.E, Seeing a job through' when his teeth nip at her earring, tugging lightly.
"Would you rather go back to the auditorium, love?"
She snickers and grips his hair between her fingers, messing it up further and guiding his mouth to hers.
"No." She replies simply, and his smile tastes delicious on her lips. She loses track of time as he kisses her senseless, her leg wrapping around the back of his knee and pulling him flush against her. They keep it slow and steady and neither make a move to take it further regardless of the way heat is coiling low in her belly and how she can feel the way he wants her pressed against the inside of her thigh. She is mindful of the fact that this is a school, his workplace, her son's school – and getting caught doing the dirty on his desk would probably not be kosher.
(There is a perfectly comfortable bed with soft flannel sheets at his house that she intends on reacquainting herself with later.)
She thumbs at the scar on his cheek when he pulls away, resting her forehead against his and exhaling a shaky breath. The way he makes her feel is something she's still not quite used to, and she hopes she never is.
"Emma, I think – " He swallows hard and her heart beats faster in her chest because she can feel the significance in the air, a heavy sort of giddy feeling that shakes at her bones. "No, in fact I'm certain that I – "
"I love you." She cuts him off and it's such a relief to finally say it – that bursting feeling that's been tugging at her ever since she woke up and he was standing in the kitchen humming under his breath while Henry rattled on about Lily and he had been making pancakes for god's sake – pressing a kiss to her head while passing her a plate and she – she loves him. "I love you a lot."
His hand cups her face, fingers trailing over her cheekbone. "Emma, I love you so – "
"Wait, did you say you volunteered to chaperone?" He blinks at her blankly, mouth setting into a line of consternation at her complete destruction of his declaration. "I thought you said you had to do this."
He scratches behind his ear and shuffles back and forth between her legs. "Well, you've told me of your high school experience, and it may seem a bit silly, but I just thought it would be nice if you attended a proper dance." A smirk curls his lips. "Complete with sneak away snogging."
The warmth in her chest spreads – the burning behind her eyes back. She crushes him to her with her fingers wrapped around that stupid tie and if she thought his smile tasted good, it's nothing compared to his laugh.
"I love you." She sighs and he steps back, helping her down from the desk and stepping over the school supply carnage. He presses a kiss to her hand and guides her to the door, that damned eyebrow telling her he has some things in mind, and she's inclined to believe she will enjoy them.
"I love you as well, you bloody stubborn woman."
-/-
(He remembers halfway down the hallway that he left the mistletoe hanging up, and he jogs back to the room to take it down before Monday morning classes. She snickers all the way home until he promptly shuts her up.)
(She was right about the eyebrow.)