Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or Once Upon A Time, they belong to Adam Horowitz and Eddy Kitsis. Nor do I own the sorority/fraternity houses names referred to in here, they belong to ABC Greek's creators whose name I am too lazy to look up right now.
Notes: aaaand still one more to go.
as soon as we learned the snow queen's name on the show, her name was changed on here - sorry, Liz, it was cool while it lasted. welcome cool aunt ingrid.
thanks as always to my wonderful amazing ninja beta cee who instead of being productive reads my crap and yells at me :):):):):)):):)
Ruby's head popped up between Elsa and Emma's seats at the front, hand imperiously pointing right ahead of them. "Is that it?"
"Yeah - right there."
"That one?" she insisted, and Emma fought back a groan. Ruby automatically turned into an over sugared five year old kid once you gave her the slightest bit of adventure, and after spending the last three hours holed up in a car with her friends she appeared quite ready for it.
Elsa craned her neck to glance at her exasperatedly. "Do you see anything else around? Yes, that one."
Silence fell inside the vehicle as the group stared up ahead, reactions going from impressed to awed. Emma considered the considerably-sized home, buried deep within the bluffs and surrounded by nothing but trees and wildlife. It had strong, clear lines that contrasted with the serene backdrop of the lush greenery around it. Emma studied the huge French doors leading to the outer deck, considering that Elsa's aunt hadn't really minded about her privacy considering the hidden spot in which the house was located.
All in all, a pretty sweet place to chill at.
It appeared her comrades agreed, from their slaw-jacked faces.
"Wow," Aurora murmured, skipping out of the car and shading her eyes with her hand as she looked up, whistling under her breath.
"What she said," Ruby agreed, following her until Emma warned her not to try to get out of carrying out her stupidly heavy baggage.
Finding the front door open, the girls pulled their bags out of the trunk of the car and made their way through the house towards the back deck. There, the stunning view of the woods was spread out before them, just barely lit by small torches that dotted the dock and pathways that led down to the driveway. The entire back of the house was flanked with brick patios and decks, and where Emma thought she could hear voices. She cursed under her breath, knowing that Jones and the rest of the KTs wouldn't let them live it down for getting there before them.
To her surprise - and silent relief - a pretty redhead with a beaming smile appeared out of nowhere, flinging herself against Elsa in a flutter of long, swishy blue skirts and long braids.
"Elsa!"
"And that might be my sister," Elsa pointed out, rolling her eyes good-naturedly at Anna's enthusiasm. She hugged her back fiercely enough, though, Emma noticed fondly, as she inspected the two sisters with a smile.
When they pulled apart, Anna still held her older sister's hands in hers, shaking them excitedly. "I missed you."
"It hasn't been that long, Anna."
The girl just grinned impishly, pinching her cheek. "I'll take that as 'I don't want to embarrass myself in front of my new friends', thank you." With that, she turned towards them with another dazzling smile which Emma found herself momentarily blinded by. "Hi, I'm Anna."
They all exchanged handshakes and hugs - Anna was the overly friendly type, she noticed amusedly as she kind of crushed herself against Mulan as she gushed over her hair, to the girl's unease, - and Emma was about to ask where should they leave their bags when someone familiar walked right into their petit comité, distractedly reading something on his phone.
"Hey Anna, where did you leave - oh," Kristoff stopped, sounding confused as he realized Anna was, indeed, not alone. He smiled broadly, but soon looked around in confusion as he noticed they were down in numbers. "Are the boys here already?"
Looking at him, Emma could kid herself into thinking the last two years hadn't passed and she was knocking on the Kappa Tau Gamma's door, with Kristoff on the other side inviting her in. Sandy-haired and easy-grinned, Kristoff carried himself with a sort of confidence and charm that pretty much everybody felt pulled towards. She couldn't help but smile at the memories of him joking quietly with her about this and that, letting her join in his brothers' poker nights - and consequently making them all lose their money and cheeseritos - and giving her and Killian aspirins in the morning after extremely rowdy parties.
(And condoms. She had no idea why, but at some point in the night he'd always slip one into Killian or her pocket. It had been embarrassing to no end at first, but then she'd come to appreciate it and seeing it as something rather... sweet.)
"We got here first because we're that awesome," Mary Margaret said smugly, crossing her arms over her chest. Kristoff considered her, trying to hide a grin of his own.
"Did they really bait you into a Fast and Furious competition?"
Emma swore under her breath.
Dammit. She should have known.
She looked at her sister from the corner of her eye, shuffling her foot on the deck trying to look inconspicuous. "...Maybe."
Kristoff chortled, delighted. "I'm so proud of them," he commented, shaking his head and still chuckling. He then opened his arms and imperiously commanded, "Come to my arms, ducklings."
"Ducklings?" Mulan asked. Mary Margaret smothered a giggle with one hand as the rest threw themselves at him, trying to reach in his hug - which was a feat in itself. Six girls against one guy. Not bad.
He gave them a look. "Come on, I remember when you were tiny and adorable and made my pledges all weak in the knees. You're my ducklings."
Emma raised an eyebrow, bemused. She'd have never guessed he'd call her group of sisters that, though he and the rest of his house were versed enough in given names and clever - and ridiculous - nicknames to whoever they crossed paths with, so it really shouldn't surprise her in the least.
Suddenly, an errant thought crossed her mind.
"Wait - is that the secret nickname they gave us that they never wanted to share?"
The rest of the group gasped, outraged. Kristoff looked apologetic, whereas Elsa and Anna mostly appeared both delighted and shocked at this new development. "Not even Philip spilled!" Aurora exclaimed, agitated. They all stared back at the former Kappa Tau inquisitively, who put a hand over his mouth in mock apology.
"Oops?"
Emma laughed, hugging his side and patting his back. It was good to see him again. "Thank you, Kristoff."
"I live to please."
Ruby tossed a strand of her over her shoulder, huffing loudly. "Well, they will never know our nickname for them."
They all 'ooh'ed in unison, agreeing silently on not voicing it just in case after confirming firsthand what a bigmouth Kristoff could really be. "They never looked overly interested in learning it, to be honest," Mulan commented airily, but Kristoff interrupted them with a snort.
"Oh, believe me - they were."
The girls exchanged a knowing look at that new bit of information, storing it for the future, as Ruby rubbed her hands conspiratorially. "This is gonna be fun."
After that very enlightening conversation, the two siblings proceeded to show them around the house and Kristoff offered to help them with their bags (which Ruby took advantage of). Anna almost danced on her feet as she pointed at the spacious living room with all kinds of paintings and gorgeous sculptures adorning the crème-colored walls, the kitchen and finally one by one organized them around the several rooms. Apparently, counting on how many of them would be staying the two following nights, they had come up with a room arrangement where each of the couples would be sharing a room, leaving Elsa and Emma together and the Kappa Taus to fight over a bed in one small bedroom and the couches in the living room. As Anna led them to Elsa's room, Emma and her friend shared a pained look, knowing that they'd forgotten their earplugs in what surely would be a house full of sexually active youngsters paired off in private rooms.
Lovely.
After retrieving their bags, everybody split up to unpack, leaving Emma no option but to follow Elsa to theirs. The blonde girl opened the door and waved inside with a flourish of her hand. "Here we are."
Emma smirked. "Let me guess - it's all blue."
"Very funny," Elsa drawled. Emma put a hand over her eyes, dramatically bumping into whatever she ran into around her to drive her point across.
"My eyes!"
Elsa finally joined in her laughter, slapping her hand away from her face. "Loser."
"Hey, I'm not the one obsessed with blue."
"Do you want me to kick you out from my extremely blue bedroom? You can always share with the KTs on the couch," she menaced, hands going over her hips. Before she could fall to her knees pleading for mercy - she wouldn't put it past her to actually go through with her threat and Emma was not about to risk it either way, - a head popped by the door.
"Can we swap instead? I wouldn't mind to share with Elsa."
Jefferson waggled his eyebrows comically, wincing when August slapped the back of his neck. They were soon followed by the rest of their brothers and David, who was an old friend of Kristoff's and hadn't wanted to miss the opportunity to visit. At the non-stop grins they were sending the two girls, Elsa hid herself behind Emma, linking her arms around her waist.
"Please, Emma, save me from them."
Emma distinctly heard Jefferson's quiet "ouch" at that, spying him putting a hand over his heart with a pained expression, but it was soon forgotten as Kristoff's boisterous voice resounded in the hall.
"Pledges!"
The boys' voices sounded as one, claiming all in perfect unison, "Captain!"
Emma and Elsa rolled their eyes as they witnessed the group flee their positions to throw themselves at their former president, leaving a pouting Jones behind. "How many times have I tried to make you losers call me that?"
"You haven't got that much authority, I guess," Kristoff replied haughtily in-between claps to the back and one-armed hugs, to which Killian just smirked.
"My teacher mustn't have been that good."
Kristoff scoffed. "Or you weren't that good of a student. What's your major these days?"
"Bible Studies," Killian answered without missing a beat, and ignored the answering groans and chortles around him. His former big brother laughed, though, coming over to put an arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair with the other, the scene looking extraordinarily familiar and alien all at once to Emma's eyes.
"Come on," he said as he led them to the living room. "I wanna hear everything that's been going on since I left."
"Everything?" Killian said incredulously as they disappeared down the hall. Elsa rolled her eyes and said something about going to fetch some sheets from a wardrobe in the attic where her aunt insisted on keeping them. Emma waved her off, focused already on unpacking. She startled when Anna, who had showed up after Kristoff earlier, offered to help her, and they both finished the job rather quickly, making small conversation. She was rather unique, Emma thought to herself as she listened to her talk non-stop at such a fast pace it was almost impossible to follow her train of thoughts at times. Anna almost trampled herself in her haste to tell her about practically everything that came up: from how she met Kristoff (they ran into each other at the sauna at the community center) to what her favorite food was (sandwiches). It was rather refreshing, if Emma said so herself.
Her companion's chirping voice was overpowered at that moment by obnoxiously loud guffawing coming from the window, and they both stuck out their heads to find Kristoff and Killian almost on the ground in hysterics. Probably reminiscing old times at the house, if Emma had to bet on anything.
"They're really close, huh?"
Emma turned to find Anna cocking her head to the side as she contemplated the two brothers with a pensive expression on her face. "Yeah. Big - little brother stuff, I guess," she finally said, and Anna nodded, smiling lightly. Emma pushed aside from the window, going back to close the now empty bag and hiding it under the bed, where Elsa had directed her earlier to put it. Anna ran to her side to help her, even if there was no need.
"Where is your little sister?"
Emma smiled sadly, thinking of poor Tamara, who had had to stay back because of some group project. "She's visiting on Sunday, couldn't come today I'm afraid."
"Oh. Well, Sunday then." Her pout quickly morphed into yet another brilliant smile, to Emma's neverending amazement. "You wanna see the rest of the house?"
Emma shrugged, thinking that, for all intents and purposes, there was nothing better to do at the time unless she wanted to join the rest of her friends and the Kappa Taus outside. Which meant facing Killian. Which she wasn't sure she was ready for yet.
She'd stick with Anna for now, thank you.
"Sure." She followed her down the hall, looking up at the family portrait that hung on the wall. "Thanks again for inviting us," she added as an afterthought, but Anna just snorted, waving a hand dismissively over her shoulder.
"It's nothing. Big house - what else would you fill it with but partying college students?"
"Right," Emma laughed lightly. "So. Your sister tells me you two are like bread and butter huh."
"Yeah. I'm missing her terribly while she's down there with you people." She turned to look at her closely, and for a moment the chipper, bubbly girl she had been with for the last hour disappeared, leaving just a concerned, loving girl. A sister. "She is having a great time there, isn't she?"
"I hope so. There's little to bore her."
(There really wasn't. It's college, after all - if social life didn't keep you occupied, then school would.)
Anna nodded sagely, agreeing with her sentiment. "Yeah, I supposed so. College life can be as dramatic as any soap opera, let's be real."
They shared a knowing smile, and Emma let her lead her around the house: the rest of the rooms - her sisters had mostly left their bags on the beds and their phones around, running off to join the boys on the outer deck, - the spacious kitchen and the impressively huge table where they'd supposedly be eating together, the living room - perfectly equipped to date with a huge screen propped up against the wall where Anna promised they could watch anything they wanted and could they please marathon the Harry Potter saga? - the basement, attic and practically every other nook and cranny that she could possibly think of.
Needless to say, Anna knew the place alright.
Once they reached the last room in the second floor, where the house owner's room was, Emma stopped in her tracks, momentarily blinded. It was like she had stepped into an incredibly white cave: the walls were a pearly white, glowing softly, and everything - from the comforter to the curtains - followed the color pattern, giving it a simmering gleam that made her eye twitch involuntarily.
Emma's jaw dropped. "So I guess this is from where Elsa gets it, huh?"
"Gets what?" Anna inquired confusedly, looking around her. Emma signaled at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, waving at the rest of the room with a tilt of her head.
"The décor thing."
Anna snickered, leaning against the window and enveloping herself in the silky material of the curtain, resembling a strange silver burrito. "They both have always had a thing for that, I guess."
"Huh." Emma walked cautiously to the bedside table, picking up whatever caught her attention - a silver brush, a soft yellow ribbon fashioned in wristbands hanging from the lamp, and most importantly a rather magnificent mirror with silver engravings that hung propped to the side. It gave Emma a weird feeling, thinking that whoever slept there would be reflected on it as she laid on the bed, as if she were being spied on constantly.
She had never been a big fan of mirrors.
She pointed a finger at it questioningly. "How does she even get some sleep with this though? Doesn't it creep her out?"
"There's a little curtain thing to cover it." Her hand automatically flew to her throat at the voice, and she whirled around as Killian stepped behind her, smirking. Anna giggled, leaving her improvised cape behind and looking at him curiously.
"How do you know?"
He shrugged, nonplussed. "I asked the same the first time we visited here."
Emma lifted an eyebrow. "You slept here?"
"Nah - in Elsa's room," he said with a shake of his head. Anna blew out her breath in relief, dramatically putting a hand on her forehead.
"Thank God it wasn't in mine."
Making a faint amused sound under his throat, he reached out to tug on one of her braids. "I wouldn't be so relieved - Jeff did. And there's a rumor going around, something about him drooling all over your pillow sheet..."
The way the color drained from the poor girl's face was almost comical. Her lips curled into a disgusted grimace, horror coloring her features, and she was fleeing the room with a distressed "What? Ew," in her wake that Emma couldn't help but laugh at.
She was inclined to think that someone would be making a trip to the attic soon to search for clean pillowcases.
She crossed her arms over her chest and turned to give Killian a cursory glance. "That was mean."
"But oh so fun," he argued, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. She just rolled her eyes at him and walked to the window where Anna had been previously at, peering outside - a view of the path that went deep into the woods.
She barked out a laugh as she noticed a crystal charm sitting at the window pane, swinging merrily when she accidentally touched it and clinking softly. "Seriously though, this looks like something out from a Swarovski ad."
"Right?" Killian followed her until he was leaning against the opposite window frame, lips curled into a grin. "We spent our first night here making up stage names for mysterious aunt Ingrid, secret dance performer at high-profile clubs at night, cool aunt by day."
"Glittering Ingrid."
"Ingrid Sparkles."
"Mine's better."
He snorted. "You wish."
She slapped his arm, ignoring his reproachful yelp in answer. "We still beat you all getting here."
(Not that she was feeling smug as hell for that. Not at all.) (She should be annoyed by being so fessed up with their stupid competition but she couldn't help it.) (And he knew it, and used it to his advantage.) (Ugh.)
(She had won, whatever.) (Lalala.)
He gave her a scowl. "August insisted on stopping at Wendy's. I was afraid he'd jump out of the window if we didn't pull over."
"Aww, that's sweet," she cooed mockingly, pulling back from the window to stand in front of him, cocking her hip to the side and giving him a smile that oozed with satisfaction. "You still lost your bet."
He mimicked her, voice laced with sarcasm. "I don't remember betting on anything because someone chickened out."
"I did not."
"You so did."
"Guys!"
She jumped, suddenly rattled at their position. They had been standing face to face, and she hadn't even noticed, too caught up in her need to win their battle of wits (or unwits, depending on how you saw it). She gasped softly, putting some needed space between them, passing her slightly shaking hand through her hair and looking everywhere but at him. She made a gesture towards the door, silently urging him to follow her outside to see what their friends wanted. He complied, giving her a look but not saying anything, and she thanked her lucky stars for that.
It hadn't even been an hour in the house and the tension was already skyrocketing.
(She so wasn't gonna make it.)
They descended the stairs and entered the kitchen, where the rest of the group was reunited, each trying to be heard over the other, and Emma felt the childish urge to clap her hands over her ears. Instead, she put her fingers to her lips and whistled loudly, effectively shutting them all up and calling for their attention. She turned to Kristoff, who looked like the one who had some kind of idea of what to do or the reason why they were all huddled in there. He rubbed his hands together excitedly, eyes glinting.
As it seemed, his very bright idea for a plan for the evening consisted on them going on a walk through the woods, to the guys' enthusiasm (except for Victor, who'd rather stay in or so he claimed) and a mixed reaction from the girls.
Emma didn't even know why they were so opposed to the idea. What the hell did they think they'd do in a house in the middle of nowhere, surrounded just by trees?
Flapping a hand at Aurora's whimper about needing to change if they were doing this, Kristoff grinned. "I really hope you all brought appropriate footwear."
"You mean heels?" Ruby interjected rapidly, followed by a perfect chorus of groans around her. Kristoff just slung an arm over her shoulder, dropping a kiss to her head fondly, which stopped her grumbling about, seriously, not owning anything but heels.
"Right. So - let's do this! Go, go, go!"
"So what kind of animals are out here?" Mary Margaret asked, sounding intrigued as they traipsed through the forest. The terrain wasn't exactly ideal, mind you - she had had to help Aurora twice already, as she wasn't really versed in walking through greenery related activities, - but their spirits were high, joking and enjoying being away from the almost claustrophobic feeling of campus.
Anna shrugged. "Probably wolves."
"Maybe bears," Elsa continued.
Kristoff flashed a grin. "And monkeys."
"Oh my!" Killian interjected, and Emma turned to look at him, unimpressed, shaking her head at his grin.
"Very funny."
They kept walking, and Anna came to join Emma and Ruby as they did, encouraging them to pick some of the berries that grew on the bushes they passed. Emma was wary at first, not really sure it was safe enough - the Hunger Games had made a number on her, clearly, - until Ruby shut her up by popping one into her mouth and Emma got to taste it.
(Let's just say the moaning that ensued would be later aptly labelled as pornstar worthy.)
Wariness all but forgotten, she fashioned a tiny basket with her scarf, where the girls put the berries they weren't currently eating. They also played with them, throwing at each others' mouths and trying to catch them in flight, which of course entailed half of the fruit on the ground. Emma heard a flap of wings over her head, and caught a glimpse of an owl perched on a high brand, cooing and looking at them. Elsa stood beside her, following her gaze, and dropped her voice conspiratorially.
"Anna swears once she saw a unicorn when she was little."
Anna groaned, hiding her face behind her hands. "I was young and naive."
"You also said the snowman we'd built talked," Elsa remarked, suppressing a grin.
"Even younger," Anna argued. Kristoff laughed a little at that, which turned into a wince as his girlfriend slapped him on the chest.
"She has a wild imagination. You could be a writer," Philip, bless his heart, offered warmly, and Killian rolled his eyes, pointing at August, who'd fallen behind talking in hushed whispers with Mulan as they inspected something on the ground.
"Join Booth's club, then."
Fortunately, August didn't hear a thing, too immersed as he was. They let it go, even though Anna pointed out that she did have creative ideas which she'd love to share in case anybody was willing to listen and offer her a chance to write a memoir, or a children's book, or whatever. Emma was already drifting into her own thoughts when Mary Margaret piped in.
"Well, Emma insisted on her being able to control the lights."
Emma gasped, embarrassed and outraged for being called out on that. "I swear, they went off when I wanted and it came back right when I mentioned it!"
(It had been freaky as hell and she had still not recovered.) (She had been tipsy and she swore it had happened, and what girl wouldn't love to have powers, right?)
Killian shushed her. "Don't be too fast to laugh at that - whenever Swan and I have traipsed in some kind of wood, something freaky happened. It's like trouble follows her around." He gestured at her with his hand, and Emma blinked, astounded at the way they were ganging on her.
"Hey now…" she muttered, running her hands through her hair in irritation, but Mary Margaret went on as if she hadn't heard her.
"It's true. Remember the time we had to run from that pack of dogs?"
"And Ruby tried the 'puppy puppy good puppy' approach and it backfired spectacularly?"
"That one."
David joined in after cackling up merrily. "Another time we got lost and ended up sleeping under a tree."
She shot them all a glance that would probably murder lesser men as they kept talking about her like she wasn't even there, but all Killian did was grin shamelessly at her.
"It wasn't that horrible," she muttered reproachfully, and swayed her hips as she walked briskly ahead of them, huffing and ignoring their protests. Killian kept up with her, though, tapping her on the arm to catch her attention.
"Nah. But admit it - you're a troublemaker," he stated simply, his eyes glowing in the twilight.
She shrugged his hand off, purposely stepping away from him even if he still followed her, undeterred. "I'm not. I just attract problems."
"Are you saying that something will happen on this trip?" he gestured around the trees, branches intertwining over their heads where they could glimpse birds and even some errand squirrel here and there jumping from one to the other, the echo of their movements and chirping in the background.
She made a face. "Probably."
The rest of their friends had caught up with them, eavesdropping on their conversation. Philip looked from one to the other with a raised eyebrow. "Are we talking about… random animal jumping at our jugulars, or an axe murdered finishing us off?"
"There's no way to tell," Kristoff supplied, giving one of his signature 'don't know don't care' looks that he'd always been so fond of. Ruby snorted.
"That's reassuring."
Elsa made a noise at the back of her throat, caught between a laugh and a whimper. "Maybe nothing will happen right now, but in the weekend? A big group of young people alone in a house? We're bound to have something."
Anna frowned. "What do you mean?"
Mulan - who had abandoned her earlier CSI-like investigation of a random leaf with August behind - cocked an eyebrow at her. "Come on. Drama is pretty much implied at every college trip or party."
Victor pumped a hand in the air, as if that was everything he'd ever signed for when he heard about their trip. Emma didn't think the guy's thoughts were that far-etched, to be perfectly honest. "Mark my words: a fight. Some unexpected development or sexual tension. Maybe sex."
Emma snorted derisively."Have you actually seen the sleeping arrangements? Of course there will be sex."
She was rewarded with a dirty look from him. "I meant the kind of unexpected sex." As he finished speaking, he gave the most unsubtle glance she'd ever seen in her entire life, staring first at her and then turning excruciatingly slowly to focus on Killian. Emma felt terribly tempted to throw her phone at his face. Instead she just grumbled, annoyed.
"Shut up."
"Just you wait," he sing-songed, stepping away from her to avoid her slapping him.
(He knew her so well.)
Killian, for his part, had started walking away, approaching one of the nearby trees to use for leverage as he rearranged his shoe, wincing. He must have stepped on something. Sneering at Victor over his shoulder, he started, "You're so full of - AHHHH!" Something flew from one of the lowest branches and fell over him, and as if on cue, they all screamed along with him, even if no one really knew what had happened. Emma ran to his side along with David, worriedly touching his arm, and Killian jumped away, shaking himself hysterically. A furry brown relatively tiny body scrambled away, and at the snapping twigs under its paws the girls screamed again, hugging each other as if that was the best protocol to follow when attacked by tiny forest creatures.
All except Mulan, who was staring at them as if they'd personally offended her.
"It's a squirrel. A squirrel," she repeated, emphasizing the word as if she couldn't believe they all shared a house together. Emma, for her part, went to put a comforting hand on Killian's shoulder, and noticed belatedly that it was shaking. She was about to tell him that it was okay - really, a squirrel, no big deal, it wasn't like it was a rat or anything, - until she realized he was laughing, leaning his forehead against the bark of the tree as he tried to muffle his giggling.
He looked at her, and she thought he murmured something about trouble magnet, but she couldn't be sure. She helped him up as the rest went to fuss over him - and interrogate him about the squirrel, which led to a ridiculous discussion about the fatal side effects a squirrel bite could entail.
They ended up naming the errant animal a R.O.U.S. after someone mentioned the Princess Bride.
After they decided it was probably the best course of action to go back to the house to get cleaned up before dinner, Emma found herself walking beside Killian. She studied him from the corner of her eye, until she caught a glimpse of red on his sleeve. She grabbed his arm, halting him and making him almost trip, but he didn't say a thing as she brought his hand up to her face to inspect it closely. There was an ugly cut on his palm, but from the rests of dirt and the smell she guessed it had been as he tried to pull away from the tree, shaking off the squirrel from him.
As she went to try to clean it up with her handkerchief, he tried to cradle it against his chest protectively almost on impulse. "It's fine."
She sighed long sufferingly as she pulled out a water bottle from the bag she'd insisted on bringing along. "Could you please stop acting like a baby and let me check it out?"
He looked like he was going to protest, but instead clamped his mouth shut and finally opted to wink down at her. "I love it when you boss me around."
She didn't even fight an eyeroll. "Very funny." She wet the cloth and wrapped it gingerly around his hand, hoping that it'd keep until they got to the house and he could dress it properly. Satisfied with her work, she looked up to address him when she saw another red smudge on his neck. Her fingers acted on her own accord, touching it gingerly until the pads of her fingers were tinted in red. "Are you bleeding?"
"What?" He touched his neck, confused, and his own fingers ended up like hers, crimson and sticky. She was deeply focused on hers, realizing finally that it wasn't, in fact, blood, when he explained. "That must've been the berry Philip threw at me earlier and I couldn't find."
Why wasn't she even the least bit surprised about them having a berries war until they ended up stuffed under their clothes? Right: it was typical idiot behavior. And nobody had claimed that these guys weren't idiots, after all.
She shook her head, hiding a grin and bringing her hands to her face, noticing the strong smell the berry juice left on them, even if her skin wouldn't get rid of a sticky sensation. She smiled appreciatively.
"It does add a nice forest-y touch to your scent," she commented with a sly grin, wiggling her fingers at him. She hadn't prepared herself for him to clamp her hand in his stained fingers, a new smudge juice now printed on her wrist. Emma breathed out slowly, hyper aware of his body, inches away from hers, solid and warm at her back. Always just one step away, she thought, with a rush of combined thrill and anxiety that warmed her skin, making her fingers itch to reach out.
He locked eyes with hers, and brought her hand to his nose and inhaled deeply. "Why, thank you. I'll make sure to scrub myself in the shower with raspberries from now on."
She could feel her entire body flush at the way he looked at her, his words going through her, until she freed her hand from his grasp, murmuring an excuse about them getting behind and not wanting to be left without any food once they arrived. He followed her without a word, the crunching sound of their feet on the leaf-covered ground almost eerie as their soundtrack.
Even though she was pretty sure the hammering of her heart was deafening enough.
By nine o'clock, everybody had successfully freshened up, changed clothes and properly cleaned up wounds in Killian's case. They had decided to have dinner outside, seeing as it wasn't cold and there was far more room than in the kitchen or living room. Aurora and Mary Margaret had devised a rather meticulous schedule for everybody to follow during the weekend in which they had assigned shifts to cook and clean up the kitchen, to nobody's surprise; they had always been organised - not to say fair - that way. To say that dinner was not a quiet affair would be an understatement, but they somehow managed not to cause too much of a commotion as they passed dishes around and wine and beer disappeared in a steady flow. Conversation was easy and light, and for a while Emma felt herself relax, just enjoying the company and pleasant hum that the familiarity that being with her friends brought her. She craned her neck up to gaze at the nightsky, amazed at how different it was to look at from there, in the middle of nowhere, instead of from home where the lights from both the town and campus didn't really give much of an option to stargaze.
All in all, she was glad she'd come. Even if mixing wine and beer during her meal had probably not been her wisest move.
She had no idea what time it was when Elsa's head fell against her shoulder, startling her. Her friend had been leaning against her for a while now, huddling closer as if to chase off the cold (which was hilarious, because Elsa was never cold, the girl could walk around wearing nothing but a tank top in the middle of a blizzard and she wouldn't even notice) but this time Emma looked at her, taking notice of the tired expression on her face.
"Elsa, you're falling asleep."
"I'm not," she slurred, and Emma rolled her eyes.
"You're practically on top of me."
"And that counts as first base, you know," Victor pronounced solemnly.
Emma and Elsa both rolled her eyes at him, more out of habit than anything else. "I just get really sleepy when I drink wine," Elsa explained, gesturing towards the empty bottle that the both of them had drained sitting in front of their finished pasta. Emma patted her blonde head warmly, hiding a smile at the defeat in her voice.
"Well, let's make sure you don't drink any tomorrow, okay? It's been a long day."
She gave her a soft shove, until Elsa made a displeased sound at the back of her throat and finally caved in, standing from her seat. She picked up her dirty plate, rubbing her free hand over her eyes and giving her a pleading look. "Don't make fun of me while I'm asleep."
"Not making any promises!" Kristoff said, putting up his hands in front of him before Emma could say anything. She gave them the stink eye, ignoring their high fives and fist bumps and ridiculous comebacks, and instead gripped Elsa's hand in hers warmly.
"Nah. I won't let them."
Elsa smiled back, sleepy and more than a little tipsy, and gripped her hand back before letting go and getting inside the house. "Thank you Emma. You're the best. I'll wait for you in bed."
"I'm enjoying every second of this, let me tell you." There was a loud slapping sound and Victor's pained 'ow', and the night resumed its flow of conversation and general merriment, if not aided by the alcohol consumed. At some point, Philip went back into the house to retrieve a guitar that his brothers had convinced him to bring for the weekend, under the promise that they'd probably have singalongs around a fire. Emma didn't see a fire - not yet, if they were lucky, at least, - but she didn't voice her protests, seeing as they all followed Philip's leading voice. Ruby jumped from her seat to settle herself on her lap, and Emma sighed defeatedly, until she too was singing along to anything and everything that the KT played - from an overheard Wonderwall to the Power Ranger theme song.
"That'll probably keep the beasts away," Mulan commented as they finished their rendition to Party in the USA. Emma fought back a snort to no avail.
"Kappa Taus: The beast whisperers."
Philip put a hand over the neck of the guitar, staring closely at them. "Is that your nickname for us?"
The girls looked at each other and promptly burst into a fit of delighted giggles. Ruby and Emma almost toppled to the floor as their chair shook uncontrollably, they were laughing so hard. From the corner of her watering eyes, she spied Killian and August scowling at Kristoff. Aurora pointed her finger at Philip, trying to talk over their laughing.
"You were right! They don't know and it's killing them!"
August scrunched up his nose, crossing his arms over his chest, resembling for all purposes a bluffing 5 year-old kid. "We don't care. And you don't know our nickname for you!"
Ruby lifted a finger, calling for their attention. "Actually, we do." At the uneasy glance that they shared, Emma snickered again, and followed it by making a distinctive quacking noise. Her sisters followed her lead, until Victor had to go over their side of the table and clamp his hand over Ruby's lips so she'd stop. At Ruby's outraged protests, he kissed her, and even if she grumbled something about him being an idiotic caveman, it worked its charm, their collective quacking now silenced.
On the other side of the table, Killian was shaking his head at his former president. "Really, Kristoff?"
"They're masters of persuasion!" he tried, only prompting a new round of giggles from the girls.
Needless to say, their nagging about the secret nickname went on for hours until they agreed on playing to find out. Emma should have known by now that she shouldn't let herself be goaded into any kind of competition with these guys, but just by the tilt of Killian's head or the way he smirked at her made her resolve fly out of the proverbial window.
At four AM, they were all on their way to drunk lane, tears streaming down their faces with laughter and having found out each and every one of the name they'd been baptized with behind their backs since the day they had set foot on campus.
Heads up to whoever had come up with 'hookers' for the Kappa Taus. That one got her good.
After a quick clean-up of their dinner leftovers, they moved to the west side of the deck, where there was, to Emma's surprise, a swimming pool (Anna hadn't mentioned that, but seeing as she got pretty distracted as she started talking, Emma wasn't complaining about it). Aurora quickly shucked off her boots, dipping her toe under the surface and promptly seating on the edge after claiming it was rather warm, with her swinging feet now underwater. They all huddled around, chucking what was left of their drinks as they went, and Emma frowned at her cup, morosely quoting to herself Jack Sparrow's why's the rum always gone.
Instead of pouting at her empty cup, she probably should have been paying attention to the whisper exchanged between the KTs. Alas, in her mind, beer was way more important than whatever those idiots could come up with.
"So, Zeta Beta Zetas… we need scientific proof about something," Jefferson started conversationally.
The girls frowned in unison, staring confusedly at them. "About what?"
She knew she should have guessed beforehand that all the teasing would end up like that, though. August, Jefferson and Philip tackling Aurora and Mulan, whereas Kristoff took Anna by the hand and David embraced Mary Margaret by the waist, their last words before throwing them to the water being, "If ducklings can swim!"
Emma's heart missed a beat when she found herself still at the edge of the pool, and not, you know, inside with the rest of them. Especially when she counted and there was someone missing.
It definitely stopped beating at the warm breath tickling her neck the next second. "Swans definitely do."
She craned her neck to look at him, the glint in his eyes unmistakable as he closed the space between them. "If I'm going down, you're going down with me," she breathed, the space between them crackling with the tension that was becoming ridiculously hard to ignore. She took a deep breath, and noticed he did as well.
She wished she could say she didn't scream as she felt his hands going to her hips, or that her arms didn't immediately locked around his neck to drag him with her - not that he even tried to pry himself away from her, mind you. They fell and the shock of the cold water on her skin made her gasp, Killian's arm still enveloping her, the heat of his body clashing with the cold gripping her. She broke the surface panting heavily, moving wet clumps of hair from her face and ready to lash out at this idiot and his stupidity and everything he represented, and as she whirled around to start her tirade, she froze - and not just from the cold.
There were few things that could render her speechless, that she knew of.
A wet Killian Jones, sadly, was one of them.
And from the way his gaze was searing through her, she'd say she had the same effect on him.
"Maybe not a duckling or a swan, but a bloody mermaid? That, you are," he said softly.
If it were anyone else, such a declaration might have made her roll her eyes or snicker at such a ridiculously cliché line, but instead it sent a thrill of warmth through her. But she couldn't really find a way to let him know that his words - and pretty much everything he did, really, - affected her in such a way.
Emma was someone who relied on actions instead of words. So she did what she did best: she acted.
She jumped at him, her hands going to his shoulders as she attempted to keep him underwater, grinning madly at his protests. After all, he had called her a mermaid.
Donning a borrowed shirt and pajama pants from Anna and trying to dry her hair with a too-small towel she had found in the bathroom where at least five people have been huddled in trying to brush their teeth at the same time, Emma faced the door to Elsa's room. She cautiously opened it, trying with all her might to be quiet in order not to wake her roommate, seeing at it was extraordinarily late - or maybe early in the morning would be more appropriate.
What she hadn't expected was to find her friend laying on the bed playing on her phone, already dressed for the day. "What are you doing?"
Elsa gave her a look, locking her phone and stuffing it into her pocket. "I woke up earlier - you guys definitely know how to make an entrance."
Emma tried to protest, but to be fair, their entrance had been indeed memorable - and probably noisy as hell. But in her defense, try to convince Jefferson to drop Mulan as he carried her around and offering her as a human sacrifice to whoever he crashed into.
Subtlety? Zero.
"I'm sorry." Emma muttered, covering her forehead with one hand. Elsa jumped to her feet, going to her to put a hand on her shoulder.
"Don't worry about it, I slept like the dead before that."
That made her smile, throwing a hungry look at the unmade bed, full of promises of dreamless sleep and peace for the next couple of hours at the very least. "Well, I guess it's my turn now."
"And you have the entire bed for you. Some may consider this a gift."
"You got the same perks, sister."
Elsa grinned, well-rested and beaming. "True." She walked over to their shared wardrobe, rummaging through it for a moment to pick up her coat. "I'm gonna drive to town and buy some stuff for later and maybe watch a movie in my aunt's bureau. I'll see you when you have some sleep, okay?"
Emma waved her hand at her, not really listening but too focused on how warm the sheets were as she slipped into bed, pulling the comforter over her and almost moaning in delight. "Cool. Goodnight."
Who cared if it was morning already and some idiotic bird was singing like its life depended on it, really.
She definitely missed Elsa's choked laugh as she slipped from the room, quietly closing the door behind her. "Sweet dreams."
What she didn't miss, though, was the sound of the door opening and someone's footsteps coming increasingly closer, or the prickling feeling of being observed what felt like seconds later. She opened one bleary eye as she turned on her side to look up at the intruder.
"What are you doing in my bed?" Killian inquired, giving her his best what the fuck, Swan look.
Emma didn't so much as twitch. "Excuse me? This is my bed."
"This has been my bedroom since I first came here for Kristoff's parties last year."
She was still clearly half asleep, or she'd have reminded him that she'd been assigned that bed for the weekend and he could kindly fuck off. Instead, she just yawned. "Well, not tonight. Bye Jones." She pulled the comforter over her head until it was dark again and there was no way for her to deal with those too-blue-for-this-early eyes of his.
...the same comforter that was pried away from her hands, her protests dying in her throat when she saw him giving her an incredulous look. "Seriously? You're gonna let me sleep on the floor with August and Philip?"
"It's not my fault!" She huffed, appalled. Great, she was mostly 85% awake now and was able to form some sort of coherent speech - which included arguing with Killian fucking Jones, who was actively trying to steal her bed.
She didn't know if she enjoyed the fact that he looked quite agitated himself. "I didn't say it was!"
"I just - don't think it's a good idea if... you know," she said, feeling defensive - like she always did around him. Even when she'd done nothing wrong, which she hadn't; so there was no reason for her to feel guilty.
Her tone brought him to a halt, hand curling into a fist and lips thinning as he stared at the floor. "I'm not gonna try to jump you, Swan."
"I didn't say you were," she protested weakly, rubbing nervously at her neck. When she peeked back up at him, he looked like he was torn between fleeing, laughing or calling for medical help.
To her relief, he just sighed, awkwardly shuffling on his feet. She could guarantee she was his vivid reflection but instead of standing she had bent on herself, balled up and trying to cover as much of herself with the sheets.
"You're right though. I - I'll just leave," he said, hand already turning the handle and ready to go.
"Wait." She froze, afraid and angry at herself because what the hell was she even doing. When he turned to look at her, cocking an eyebrow in question, she lamely waved at the bed. "The bed's big enough. We don't need to..."
"We're not cuddling, Swan. It's just sleeping together. Like - real sleeping. On the same bed. No funny business," he stammered, sort of gently, like he was addressing a tiny, scared child.
It may have been the indecision in his voice, or the way he kept wringing his hands behind him - yet she knew he was, - or how his foot was already backing down as if he knew he'd be rejected.
She had no idea what was the good call to make in such a situation. She had no clue what she was supposed to do.
Oh, fuck it. She had never been good at making decisions, anyway.
Instead of, like, 'making it official' by saying something or verbally acquainting to it, she just pulled back the covers, as a silent invitation. She was more than a little startled when, instead of walking over to her, he started walking around the bed.
"Where are you going?"
She noticed for the first time that he was wearing those striped pajamas he favored, - the ones his friends had given him as a joke two Christmases ago so he'd 'stop showing off that ass around', - as he threw her a glance when he left his phone on his bedside table. "I don't want to find myself on the floor after you've pushed me so you can stay on the left side, Swan. I know you favor that one."
After that, he practically dove onto the mattress. It bounced and creaked too loudly for Emma's purpose, flashes of their friends' teasing if they heard making her cringe and regret her decision already, but then she could feel him laying there, just inches from her, carefully keeping to the right side.
She didn't dare move a muscle, too afraid, the anticipation crackling in the air. She tried to tell herself it'd be fine - it had to be, right? Right? - but then Victor's words from before about unexpected sex and whatever else he'd said came back full force, and she fought back a whine.
But this wouldn't be unexpected sex right? I mean, this would be the least surprising sex ever in the history of sexcapades, Jesus. They were sharing a bed, how unexpected would that be? Unexpected sex would be something like them locked up in a narrow closet and getting it on, or at the pool or some beautiful undiscovered lake somewhere near there, or on the kitchen counter while the rest of the group were sleeping and why the hell was she thinking about this, she desperately thought as she clenched her thighs together. She was going to murder Victor.
"Just for the record I wasn't planning on borrowing 'your' bed, but Jeff and I were supposed to share the one in the next room but he has barricaded himself in there and won't let me in," he added all of a sudden, bringing her back to the present - thank God, - and snapping out of his statuesque pose on the bed.
"What a jerk," she supplied.
"I know."
Every inch of skin on her body suddenly felt like she had been lying out in the sun for too long. Her breathing evened out after she started counting in her head - sheep, ticks of the clock, she had no idea at this point, - yet the tension around them kept getting far more charged that she could have even imagined.
"So."
"So."
"Nothing weird here. At all." He sounded like he was trying not to laugh again. She shoved at him instead of scolding him; the words seemed like too much effort at the moment.
"Not awkward."
"Definitely."
The unspoken hummed loudly between them, and Emma was almost tempted to ask him exactly what it was that they were trying so desperately not to say, to keep to themselves, but she was suddenly afraid to hear the answer.
Or admit it herself.
(She was such a coward - and wasn't that what had gotten them here in the first place?)
"We should probably try to sleep."
"As long as you don't snore."
"I don't snore," she protested indignantly.
This wasn't going at all how she'd planned to spend her first night in that house. She hadn't signed for a talkative fratboy as her bed companion - especially one whose scent practically assaulted her, or whose eyes shone dimly even after draping the blue curtains (of course they were blue) over the window, leaving them in cloaked darkness.
"It's not snoring. It's like… you make this weird sound sometimes. Like clucking your tongue against the roof of your mouth."
"I do not."
(She did not.) (Ruby would have said something if she did.) (She so did not.)
"Yeah, you do."
"Well, you talk in your sleep." she retorted with a huff. He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, and she smirked in response.
"Not too much."
"Once you tried to punch me."
"I apologized for that."
"Well, just try not to wake me up ranting about the LOST finale this time."
"You're so whiny," he claimed, loud with frustration, trailing off abruptly when she snagged his wrist and pulled him a little bit too close to properly shove at him, almost sending him stumbling a little into her chest.
"Look who's talking."
Her voice cracked all of a sudden when the situation sank in, both lying side by side in the darkness. She prayed not to look too caught up in the moment, or too vulnerable, heartbreakingly broken and still drunk off her blonde head. (Look at her, looking for excuses for her behavior in a shared bed with the guy she had feelings for, who probably had feelings for her, both of whom had no idea what to do.)
(The answer was pretty simple.)
(Definitely not sleep.)
(Talk.)
"Did you see that cowhide carpet out there?" His voice was merely a whisper, his warm breath caressing her face after he had begged for her to crawl under the sheet with him to 'set a proper mood' for storytelling. "Kristoff told us legend says its rightful owner still roams around these woods, searching for it to be complete… and take vengeance on those who took it in the first place. Or whoever is using it, stepping on it as if it's nothing." He paused, "You can still hear her sad, sorrowful mooing in the night…"
"You're making that up." Emma muttered, shoving at his arm and trying not to sound too amused.
"I'm not."
"Can you read that poster?" She pointed at the corner of the room, where a large poster with a design she didn't recognize decorated the wall. Killian huffed, appalled.
"Of course I can."
"Then read it," she urged, but he shook his head, tightening the sheet around himself.
"No."
She barked out a laugh, grinning triumphantly. "I knew it! You are nearsighted."
His arm was instantly poking her side, and she fought a squeal because of course he went for the tickling spot. "It's not that. I mean it's in French."
Emma frowned, looking back at the poster and reading the words once more. "Oh," she conceded lamely.
"Yeah. It says something about a Da Vinci collection in the Louvre and I won't butcher it up because I can admit I do not speak French."
Emma bit on her lip in order not to laugh. They made fun of his accent alright, so it was no wonder he didn't want to try another one for them to pick up on. "Elsa does speak it. Maybe that's why she has it."
There was a pause, as they both tasted the unfamiliar words on their tongues, silent and loud. She turned on her side to properly look at him. "What language do you think bilingual people dream in?"
He sighed, long and thoughtful. Shrugging slowly, he looked at her with a barely-seen grin. "In dreams, I don't believe you dream in words."
"You have pianist hands."
He shoved it until it was practically on her face, wiggling his fingers playfully. "And no pianist talent. Bad combo."
She slapped it away, ignoring the tingling in her own as their skin brushed. "You're ridiculous."
"But with such pretty, pianist hands."
She muffled her laugh in their very shared, very blue pillow.
"Ow!" She winced, stopping from moving her head and trying not to whine. Killian jumped.
"What?"
"Your arm is on my hair."
With a muttered curse, he moved cautiously, almost afraid, freeing her tangled curls. Instead of shoving them away, he gathered them with a care that caught her by surprised them, rearranging them over the pillow so they didn't get in their way or in her face. "Sorry."
She was so caught up in the almost reverent way he had touched it, her voice came out unsteady. She coughed, masking her unease, or whatever it was she was feeling. "It's okay - it's a mess after it got all wet because someone threw me into the pool," she said dryly. He grinned in response.
"It's not a mess. It's pretty."
"It's got a million knots now and it'll be curly in the morning." She looked gloomily at a curl that had fallen over her eyes, and she tugged on it, annoyed. She hoped Glittering Ingrid kept some conditioner in here or she'd be so screwed.
"Come on, Swan - you can pull off every damn hairdo ever." She sensed that he wasn't going to let this go, so she grudgingly shuffled on the bed until she was face to face with him, gritting her teeth and glaring at him. "Don't you dare."
Spoiler alert: he dared.
"Ponytail Swan days," he practically sang, still looking far too smug for his own good.
Emma groaned. "Stop."
"I'm actually complimenting you here."
"Shut up." It was almost systematic, instructing him to shut it once he tried to say anything nice about her.
He raised an eyebrow, considering her words and looking momentarily wistful. "You looked beautiful, come on."
"Should I talk about your hair back then?" she replied, unapologetic. She inched closer, nesting the frozen tip of her nose on his collarbone.
At that, he scowled. "You play dirty."
"Always do."
"I'll tickle you."
Her whimper was actual Academy Award winning material. "Let's talk literally about anything else…"
They attempted to play clapping games. Attempt being the key word here, seeing as both of them had learned different versions of Eenie Meanie Sassaleeny and had no clue which one was the right one and had no way on agreeing which one to play. The only thing they finally agreed on was on said game being stupid. It was a start.
After that plan failed, they went on with guessing movie songs, which started out well enough until Killian called her out on her being tone deaf. She was so outraged she almost fell from the bed as she shoved him and flapped her hands in the air, all waving arms and grand gestures.
The end of the game came too abruptly when it was Emma's turn to hum another one.
"Too easy. It's your song."
She stared at him, perplexed. "What?"
"Hercules - "I Won't Say I'm in Love', right?" He looked at her confusedly, as if it was A Thing that everybody knew, duh.
Emma's smile felt tight on her lips. "Why would you say that?"
"You've always loved it, right?"
She pursed her lips, stubbornly refusing to break eye contact. "Oh. Right."
Trying to mask her unease, she reminded him that it was his turn, and soon forgot about how he had picked up on that tiny detail and how it may or may not have been a jab at her current emotional distress. How could she, when he started singing 'He's A Tramp' and pointing at himself.
Idiot.
"Are you cold?" he asked after a while. She creased his brows, confused.
"No. Why?"
He shrugged. "You keep sniffing."
Oops. "Oh. Sorry."
"Runny nose?"
She tried to wave away his concern, covering her face as if it was nothing. (Which, incidentally, it was.) "No, no."
She should have known, though, that he wouldn't let it go. "What is it?"
"It's just - you smell," she blurted, unable to help herself, and feeling a blush creep up her chest. God. Killian froze, staring at her. Don't back track, Emma ordered herself sternly, stay firm. Lock your jaw. Hold eye contact. Oh my God, I just told him he smelled, what is wrong with me.
With a rueful smile, he shook his head as if she had hit him. "Wow. Straight for the kill."
"I didn't mean it in a bad way," she backpedalled quickly, and bit her tongue because seriously Emma just shut up already what are you even doing. First you tell him he smells and now you tell him he smells good. I mean - what?
His features softened, even with a touch of self-confidence that she was so used to see on him. Smug bastard. "Enjoying the raspberry touch, huh?"
There he was.
She rolled her eyes - and her body, pulling away so she didn't have to face him (and he didn't see how red she was getting, would she ever stop blushing). "Forget it."
She squealed as his hands, cold as fuck, touched her hips, angling her towards him. "No, don't worry Swan, I'll make it even easier for you, here." He brought her closer to him, until her head was practically tucked under his chin, having a rather close-up of that chest hair of his. "Just don't bite me," he warned with a snort.
Gulping as quietly as she could, she inched closer, silently amused at the way the goosebumps rising on the skin on his collarbone as she approached, inhaling, long and hard.
Berries. Right.
Emma took a deep breath and leaned against his arm, waiting until her heart calmed enough so that she could open her mouth without it leaping out.
Apparently satisfied, he pulled back to put some much-needed space between them. She was already settling on her side of the bed when she realized his arm was still snaked around her, and it wasn't really letting go, but he was the one inching closer now.
"Quid pro quo time," he said, and before she could really come to terms with what he meant, his nose was nosing at her neck, and she had to fight every urge she had of gasping out - or gripping that jet black hair of his so he wouldn't move from there until he ravished her. "No raspberries on you," he declared, nose still fixed to the sensitive skin under her ear.
"Nope. Just chlorine, I guess." She tried for a smile, knowing it would probably come out more like a grimace. She was not that great with proportional body language when she was nervous. One of her biggest flaws, if she said so herself.
Blue eyes peeked up at her from under dark lashes and he blinked at her in disbelief before a timid grin tugged at his mouth. Her eyes flickered to his lips and she resisted the urge to tug on his bottom lip with her teeth (she knew he loved it), run her tongue against it and taste him.
But she didn't.
Neither did he.
Instead, they stayed there, in that limbo of what ifs, excruciatingly aware of the other's every move and overthinking every word unsaid and inhale of breath, fear of ruining the moment with the unknown.
He broke it, of course. For all he claimed he was a patient man, he had never been too subtle when it was her he was dealing with.
"It's killing me not to touch you right now."
Eyes fixed upon hers, she read nothing but honesty in him, and it was so hard to keep a straight face after such a declaration.
She didn't say anything, even though she was trembling all over, her brain telling her not to move while her body screamed for her to go over and take him in her arms. Instead, her arm curled under the pillow, hugging it closer to her, and her lips curled when she saw him doing the same, their actions completely symmetrical, until the tips of their fingers brushed under the pillow.
She didn't know why, but the fact that it was hidden - that she couldn't properly see it, - made it easier to bear, this tension, this trepidation that wouldn't let go and she couldn't find in herself to break. And just like that, with the minimal contact they could possibly had in such close quarters, who knew what time later, she finally managed to doze off.
Eventually, - and by that she meant later in the morning, when someone's loud singing in the shower from the bathroom was proof enough that the rest of the house was awake, - she became aware that he was nudging her with his foot. At first, as she tried to come to her bearings and take in her surroundings, she thought he was trying to wake her, but the steady breathing at the back of her neck was slow, peaceful. She lay awake in the sunlight as he slept, taking in his arm curled around her tightly and his body pressed up against hers as though she was a talisman he couldn't bear to be without, wondering how she could have possibly thought she was over him.
At a particularly loud crash coming from the kitchen, though, he made a quiet, throaty sound, and she lay still, not really knowing what to say. She could imagine him, finding them curled up together even when they'd fallen asleep on opposite sides of the bed, one of his arms at her hip keeping her flat against his chest. The way he was trying to quietly slip away - the warmth of his skin on hers leaving her bereft and cold, - as if afraid she was still asleep and she wouldn't notice. Once he had withdrawn completely from her, she turned to look over her shoulder at him, and at his apologetic expression, she tentatively smiled at him.
He shrugged, slowly grinning back. "See? Impossible."
The rest of the day was a blur made up of loud college students, pranks, endless laughter and outdoor fun. They went on another expedition through the woods, with no straight-to-their-neck flying squirrels this time, and ended up having lunch near a stream that Anna took them to. It was pretty idyllic, Emma considered as she ate her sandwich - carefully wrapped in blue napkins, courtesy of Elsa of course - but overall was something she hadn't done in, like, forever. She was content to lay on the ground with her sisters, drinking in the sunshine and warm air while the boys played with a frisbee David had brought with him.
As she laid there, she tried not to notice the way she could feel Killian's eyes raking over her, and if she let her shirt ride up over her belly, muttering an excuse about getting an early tan, she wouldn't admit it.
She also wouldn't share with Ruby, when she asked her why was she smiling, that she kept thinking about how Killian had made her laugh throughout the morning by mooing when she stepped on the cowhide carpet.
The walk back was uneventful, and after a lot of awwing and staring, Emma concluded that Kristoff and Anna ranked as one of the most disgustingly cute couples she had ever met in her life, and that was saying something - especially from someone who lived with Mary Margaret. It was weird, at first, to reconcile the idea she'd had of Kristoff from his days on campus when she had met him back in freshman year and seeing him now, carrying Anna around on piggyback rides and cracking up 'that's what she said' jokes with the boys the next second. He had an air about him, more mature, more centered, but without losing that aura that had granted him the presidency of the most laid back house on campus back home.
(Home. Even if being here for the weekend had been a breath of fresh air - quite literally - she still felt that pang of longing.)
(Lost girls valued the little things, and home was one of them.)
After dinner, when she came out of the shower after waiting patiently for her turn, she found half of the group perched on the stone bench by the firepit, roasting marshmallows. They greeted her when she showed up at the door, waving merrily and, in Victor's case, gesturing obscenely with his stick. What else was new.
She sat down at Elsa's side, taking hers to pick up a marshmallow and pop it in her mouth, moaning softly. She frowned as she saw the way Elsa kept pouting, throwing wary glances at the fire.
August must have noticed it too as he sat right in front them, and gave her a sidelong glance. "What's got your panties in a twist?"
"Nothing."
Anna sniggered, bumping her shoulder with her sister. "She prefers the cold. She's weird that way."
"Shut up," Elsa snapped, blushing furiously. Noticing the way everybody stared at her, she threw her hand in the air dramatically. "I don't know, okay? It's just a thing, I guess."
They all made themselves scarce after that, not really wanting to upset her - having witnessed an angry Elsa back at campus had been enough that one time, they didn't need a second performance, - and when Anna joined Emma as she went in search of napkins for their sticky fingers, she murmured quietly, "Like I said: weird."
As the night progressed, she felt her eyes wandering in Killian's direction at every turn she could - which could be considered creepy, she guessed, but seeing as how he was being as subtle as a punch to the gut when he stared back at her, she really didn't think so. Elsa kept elbowing her and nudging her in his direction, being her own kind of sparkly blue subtle self, but Emma just elbowed her back, giving her a silent warning to quit it.
(Spoiler: she didn't.)
Instead, she asked Aurora to hit play on the stereo until music filled the outer deck, and, to Emma's dismay, she jumped to her feet and dragged her along with her. Emma fought to stay sitting, gripping her cup like her life depended on it, but Ruby and Mulan joined Elsa's crusade, struggling with her until they almost toppled to the ground. Once Emma got free, she blinked, astounded, when she found almost everybody jumping and swaying to the beat. Philip span Anna around as Kristoff got his arms slung over Victor and Killian's shoulder, singing to the chorus. David and Mary Margaret could have been waltzing for all that it seemed, staring into each other's eyes as if they held the answer to the universe, and the rest…
The rest had gone wild.
She shrugged and, finishing her drink in one gulp, joined them.
If someone asked her how she ended up palm to palm and swaying around the fire with Killian an hour later, spinning in circles around each other, drawing nearer and nearer until his hands were at her hips and she couldn't tell if the heat that coursed through her was from the firepit or his body, she couldn't tell. She snorted to herself at how sparks literally flew around them, the music fading out as the only sound she focused on was his laugh and his labored breath as they kept spinning around and around. She was dizzy - from the heat or the dancing or just him, she didn't know. Time slowed down, and she couldn't tell left from right, right from wrong. She met his eyes, the raw longing and hunger in them as he stared back. Firelight fell behind his head like some sort of halo, and for a moment she'd swear she heard angels singing from the speakers as she stood there, transfixed, ogling him.
And falling for him all over again.
(Not like she hadn't known that, but still. Having those life-changing realizations in such a romcom scenario was always a plus.)
He offered to accompany her to her room - where Elsa had already fled earlier, as Emma and a couple of them cleaned their mess after their impromptu night dance party - joking quietly about it being the Hunger Games for him that night fighting over the most comfortable couch in the living room. She didn't mention that he wouldn't have a chance to do so, seeing as he had preferred to walk with her instead.
Their footsteps were slow and steady as they neared their destination, and Emma's hands played with the hem of her shirt the closer they got.
"So. This is my room," she finally said, leaning with her back against the door and staring up at him. The corner of his lips curled as he considered the door, making a show of inspecting it closely.
"It appears it is."
She bit her lip, looking down at her feet and God wasn't she the post-date blushing fanning herself poster girl. "Thank you for walking me down two halls and a set of stairs."
He dipped his head in a little bow. "It was the gentlemanly thing to do."
Laughing softly, she found the courage to stare right at him, taking in the way his hair fell over his forehead and the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he gulped. With another ridiculous bow of his and his good form crap, he stepped back, and smiled softly at her. "Good night, Swan."
She saw him walk away, giving her one last glance over his shoulder, almost boyish. Her own farewell all but forgotten, she found herself frozen in place, because, despite being exhausted, she didn't want him to go. What she really, really wanted was to spend the night with him again - no offense to Elsa as a bed partner or anything, but, yeah, girl's got needs, - and play silly games and try to pronounce French words and tell him about that horrible teacher of hers and hear about his Astronomy class and wake up with him cradling her with the steady sound of his heartbeat under her cheek.
"Wait," she found herself saying. "What if the evil cow ghost shows up?"
He stopped and looked back at her, cocking an eyebrow. "I'm sure you'll handle yourself."
She pulled away from the door, approaching him with slow and measured steps. "What if it goes after you and I'm not there to protect you?"
"I'll scream until you come to my aid." He had started walking back to her, until both of them were face to face, close enough to touch.
Not knowing what else to say - what were they even talking about, her brain had almost spazzed out, she just wanted to make the night longer - she shrugged, nodding to herself. "Okay."
His jaw did that thing - that muscle on his cheek jumping as it always did when he was nervous or upset. "You could always give me a token of your favor, as princesses did to their knights before battle."
She grinned, biting back a laugh at the hopeful look in his eyes. "If it goes after me, you do realize I'll be the knight and you'll be the princess."
"As long as there is a token, I don't care about labels."
The air sizzled between them, an unspoken challenge hanging in the open.
She had always loved challenges.
"Come here," she commanded. He inched even closer, and, on a whim, she took off a hairband she always wore on her wrist. It was plain and black and nothing fancy, but it'd do. She took his hand and pulled it over his fingers until it sat on his wrist. "There."
She looked up from his arm to find him staring at her, so fiercely she was afraid she'd automatically combust. He gave her a lopsided grin, even though the intensity with which he kept looking at her didn't leave his eyes. "I feel incredibly braver now. Thank you."
Butterflies flared in her stomach and a slow smile worked its way over her face, tilting her lips and crinkling her eyes. "What about me?"
He cocked his head to the side. "What about you?"
"Where's my token?"
There was a second in which she thought that it had been all in her head - that he really didn't want to, as if she wasn't being obvious enough, as if he would leave her there, hanging and heartbroken over the most ridiculous plea for a kiss she'd ever heard of in her entire life.
Thankfully, Killian had never been one to leave her. He was more of the 'come back for her' type, and she had never loved him more than then for that.
She closed her eyes and forgot about everything that wasn't the heat of his mouth and the gentle pressure of his hands as he took her in his arms, kissing her for the first time since the start of the school year. It felt like their first kiss all over again, - and maybe it was. She was a Brand New Emma Swan, and he was… Killian. Her Killian. The one who kissed her like she was an enigma that he would never get tired of trying solving, the one who held her against him, with an unspoken promise not to let her down.
She tipped her head back in silent encouragement for him to deepen the kiss, and he eagerly complied. They ended up pressed against the wall, her fingers tangled in his hair as his arms circled her waist.
As first-second kisses went, it was fucking A+.
He was still smiling when they broke apart, and she pulled back to gulp back some air, laughing breathlessly. He squeezed her hips playfully, breathing against the top of her head, ruffling the hair by her ear.
"That should do," he said, in that low voice he used sometimes when they were talking late at night on the phone back when they were together, or the night before hiding under the covers, or to whisper sweet nothings in her hair after making love. The voice that made her go weak in the knees and wish to grab a handful of his shirt and crash his lips to hers.
"I hope so." They didn't even think about it, really - it just felt like instinct, for him to lean down, for her to tilt her face up and kiss again. "Good night."
He smiled softly at her, brushing a curl out of her face with utter care. "Good night."
Still reeling from their shared moment and biting her lip - and secretly tasting him on her tongue - she span on her heel, walking back to the room. She hadn't even taken two steps when she whirled around almost unconsciously. "What if evil cow ghost's powers are way more powerful because it's a full moon and…"
And he was already there, cutting her off with another kiss and squeezing her cheeks between his palms and crowding her up against the wall beside Elsa's room - oh God, what if she was listening, she was never going to hear the end of this - but she really didn't care as long as he slanted his mouth over his. She was left breathless when he pulled away, squinting up at him, trying to see his face in the darkened corridor, the only light coming through the night sky from the window shining in her eyes and turning him into shadow.
He pulled reluctantly back from her, nipping at her lip one last time and at her protesting whimper she could practically taste his smile, breathed from his mouth to hers. She tugged on the charms hanging from his neck to keep him from leaving, and they stayed there, swaying to some silent music that only the two of them could hear, made of second chances and hopeful smiles. He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her chin, the way in which he mapped her face with his eyes almost reverent. It made her feel bare, precious - venerated.
With a reluctant sigh, he stepped away from her, even if his hand was still encasing hers, fingers entangled. The cold metal of his ring seared through her skin. "The couch is waiting for me." He brought her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over her knuckles, eyes focused on hers. "See you tomorrow."
She didn't trust her ability to form any coherent speech after such a whirling of events - and a pretty heavy makeout session. She nodded, even though her fingers didn't really want to let go from his, keeping him anchored by her side. "Right. Tomorrow."
As she saw him how, she thought about how she had learned to read kisses. Passionate, hot, lustful clashes of mouths that screamed of I need you. Soft, languid ones that whispered of promises and heartful confessions. Sweet, short pecks that read simple love ya.
This one simply said good night, and tasted of hope and marshmallows.
(Elsa totally heard, and they spent the next hour talking in hushed whispers under the comforter, giggling like schoolgirls and gossiping.)
(When she changed back into her PJs, she found a condom inside her back pocket.) (Fucking Kristoff.)
...so. there. are we cool? (the frozen puns are literally the worst thing that's ever happened to me i s2g)
ps: this entire thing was written while i cried playing both gone girl and interstellar's scores. make sure you check those out (gone girl's "technically missing" krfbskjabksjabljdf). also some heavy taylow swift because hello 1989.