Marital Bliss? Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time nor any of the show's characters.

A/N: Hello! Thanks to all who reviewed!

Sorry for the wait! I meant for this to come out around the holidays (Ergo, the chapter's title), but got some severe writer's block! I hope that it can at least be like a last drop of holiday goodness, akin to the sweetness of a final Christmas cookie. With that being said, I hope you had a Happy Holidays, no matter what you celebrated!

That finale was…something. On one hand, I loved the extra backstory for Killian (I can't wait to really work on what I'm going to do about that in Marital Bliss), I thought the resolution with Killian sacrificing himself was heartbreaking, and I am beyond excited for the Underworld! On the other hand… wow Rumple. Fucking WOW! Talk about the shocker of the season. I both like this move, as it gives Rumple a chance to rid himself of the Darkness by his own volition once and for all, and detest it for basically killing Rumbelle for me. I'm sorry, but after failing to inform Belle about his misdeeds again, I just can't see Rumbelle working out in any healthy way. He's just lied to her one too many times, and, my friend who used to be my favorite person to talk about all things OUaT with who was also a hardcore Rumbelle shipper left the fandom. Rumple's still my third favorite character just off of his entertainment factor alone, but if the writers expect me to believe that he's deserving of a happy ending, they're going to have to do a lot in order to make it so.

As for my thoughts on 5A as a whole, it was a mixed bag. While I loved all things Captain Swan, I feel like it also came at the cost of giving Emma more time with other people in her circle. Henry, Zelena, and maybe Regina were the only two people who I felt had the right amount of screen time with her, and it left Snowing high and dry in a season where they barely had anything to do anyways. I don't even really care for Snow or Charming one way or the other, but that could've easily been alleviated with some more development, which I really hop we get in 5B. I felt Arthur, who had enormous potential, ended up being severely lackluster, and a few episodes suffered for it. As stated before, I have very mixed feelings about Rumple's development this season, and pissed that it cost me one of my Once Buddies (Thankfully we're still friends IRL, and after this posting, I'm actually going to go visit her!). I liked the return of Mulan and Ruby, and I am totally ready for the highly speculated ship, Mulan Rouge. Merida was an interesting character, but I feel like she got a bit too much screen time for a character who, let's be honest, is only meant to stick around for 5A, and the time could've better been used towards things like seeing Dark Emma and Snowing or showing a more flowing progression from Killian to Dark Hook. I'm also upset that Grumpy, one of my favorite side characters, after giving an impassioned speech about wanting to go on adventures again and feel important, contributed so little to the overall story (Though I loved his scene with Belle, and now joyously ship Grumpy Beauty). Those are my thoughts in a nutshell, if you cared at all, and you're more than free to ask me to elaborate in the comments. I just ask that you try to keep spoilers for 5B out of the discussion. I'm trying my best to avoid them unless they're cast or creator interviews.

To my Mystery Guest reviewer, I completely get it! I'm just glad to have you responding in such thought-provoking ways. I think it's also possible that Regina knew about the hat's rule before she even reached out to Jefferson, and was playing dumb as Jefferson explained the rules as to not get his attention.

So, before we start up (Sorry for the lengthy Author's Note), I'd like to give some credit to two great writers and their respective works. When I was first looking through Tumblr's Golden Hook tag, I found these works, and their premises are what inspired "Marital Bliss'" creation. At fist, I didn't credit them because I felt that while the premise was borrowed, the execution was different enough that it didn't really need to be mentioned. Recently, though, I've had a change of heart (I can promise you that no confrontation took place concerning this fic), and wanted to recommend these two wonderful stories. Both of them are available on AO3, so to my peeps, sorry, but you're going to have to do some travelling. XD I'm the only Golden Hook writer on that site so far! The first story is "He Asked for Comfort," and it's by Crysania. It's the first one I came across, and it's a much darker turn on the lives of Killian and Rumple's cursed married life, with a couple of other changes to canon as well. There is some beautiful language in this story, and some of Rumple's dialogue is hilarious! The other one is called "Fool's Gold," by Akaiba. This story is a bit more of an after-the-fact with how it takes their marriage, wherein it takes place after the curse, but Killian falls over the town line, regaining his cursed self. I love the emotions in this story. The weight of Rumple's choices is really felt by the reader in a way I can only hope to one day achieve with "Marital Bliss."

Both of these stories are simply incredible, and for fans of "Marital Bliss," it could be fun to see where some of my inspiration came from! So, please check them out. If you're on AO3, they should both be in my bookmarks.

Well, I think I bored you enough with this long-ass intro, so let's jump in without further adieu!

Enjoy!

Season's Greetings

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"Miles! I think this wreath looks crooked! Could you come in here and check?"

"One sec, Rob! Just gotta put this pie in the oven, and I'm there!"

Rumple was almost surprised that his husband was able to hear him at all. The space between them was occupied by the sounds of loud Christmas carols playing on a radio in the den. Right now, it was "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree." Low and behold, though, a response did in fact touch Rumple's ears.

I guess that's what happens when your husband works on a ship.

Rumple tried to fiddle with the piece of décor a bit more, but unfortunately, it proved to be just a hair's length out of reach. Even on his toes, weighted on his cane, he was just barely able to touch it. The wreath's mounting victory was beginning to irk the cursed imp to the point where he seriously debated taking his cane and whacking at the pine circle as if it were a piñata, and caused him to fail to hear the footsteps of the house's other occupant as he approached him.

"Looks fine to me," Miles commented. Rumple stiffened, and in shock, turned around and cowered directly into his husband's chest. Miles snickered. "Caught you off guard, didn't I?" Rumple looked at himself, at their position. His hands were balled into fists with pieces of Miles' shirt wrapped in between his fingers. His forehead was pressed against the man's upper torso. Miles' left arm had wrapped itself around his back instinctively. Standing like this, he looked closer to a child than a grown man.

How did this happen?

Rumple's face turned red as a beet. He pushed Miles away in an attempt to save face, or at least as well as he could, considering Miles was still holding him. A smirk graced the cursed pirate's face, and he glared at the expression. "Not. Funny," he sniped sharply.

"You're right. Hil-a-ri-ous," Miles teased, placing emphasis on every syllable of his last word. Rumple tried once again to separate them, but Miles' grip once again held him in place. "Ah, ah, ah," Miles discouraged before his eyes signaled upwards. Rumple's followed, and this time, he let the oncoming groan freely escape him.

Directly above them sat a slender, yet unmistakably present piece of mistletoe.

Not again!

Miles did this every year. The night before Christmas, all through the house, while not a creature was stirring, his husband was setting up mistletoe plants in the spots they most often stood together. Even Robert found it a bit exasperating at times, and he was actually in love with the guy!

Disgruntled though resigned, Rumple quickly placed a peck on the other man's lips, one so tiny and quick that it hardly felt by its recipients. "Nice try," Miles said. "Now how about a real kiss?"

"You just got it," Rumple joked in a matter-of-fact fashion. Miles rolled his eyes, but removed his arm from Rumple's backside.

"Fine, but you know that's not the last you're going to see of this little plant, love. Not by a long shot. And I might not be so inclined to hold meself back when Emma and Mary Margaret are here." Miles showed off his pearly white teeth in another smirk.

Rumple shuddered despite himself. No matter how good it was for his cause, he still abhorred the idea of he and Miles kissing in public, let alone in front of the Savior of all people.

Rumple was originally taken aback when Miles first brought up the idea of inviting Emma and her roommate to join them for Christmas dinner, but naturally, he readily agreed to the proposal. Apparently, after Rumple dropped Miles off following their lunch date the other day, Miles had taken it upon himself to visit the sheriff's office to offer her season's greetings. A conversation ensued, where from what Miles told him, Emma discussed her frustrations about Mary Margaret's rather complicated love life; day after day, she had to put up with hearing the schoolteacher stress about anything that could serve to cover up her relationship drama with one David Nolan. Miles offered her a possible reprieve: have the two of them over for dinner, and allow conventional etiquette rules to work their charm and keep woman quiet for the evening. Even if it didn't work, Emma would have Miles to hang around with. Rumple was certain that the blonde probably had more than a few reservations about spending the evening with him, but she obviously found enough solace in Miles' and Mary Margaret's presences to brush it off. That was fine by him, of course. Any excuse to be around to the Savior was welcomed, her feelings be damned. In truth, Rumple didn't expect Emma and her roommate to stay much longer than for dinner, and maybe a Christmas movie if they all had enough to drink. That, he had prepared for as well with a bottle of regular wine for his guests and some nonalcoholic wine for himself. Still, conversation was conversation, and with the influence of Miles and enough alcohol on his side, who knew what secrets Emma would spill.

Unfortunately, that very same alcohol-induced advantage had a funny way of turning against him when it came to his husband.

"Be on your best behavior, Miles," Rumple commanded sternly.

"I can promise you that, my love, but I shall warn you: when that endeavor involves you and Christmas, I find that you give me far too much credit as to what my best behavior entails." Miles lessened the space between them again, planting a sensual kiss on his lover's cheek.

Rumple groaned openly again. Christmas was normally an enjoyable time for Robert, but nothing could be further from the truth for Rumple. This would be their first real holiday together, and the blond simply didn't know how it would go over. The past few ones had passed by quietly enough. Halloween had Miles out for drinks with friends while Rumple enjoyed his first night alone since he was released from the curse's grasp with a good book and countless swigs of brandy to get the taste of his husband out of his mouth. Thanksgiving was nothing more than a relaxed feast for them, though Rumple had his work cut out for him convincing Miles not to make a grilled swordfish in lieu of a turkey.

Today, though, was a big holiday, one that couldn't be ignored or brushed aside quite so easily.

At this point, Rumple's fears of Miles asking for sex were more or less vanquished, but Christmas time was still made for a very romantic setting all the same. While Miles, at his husband's request, usually refrained from most public displays of affection, he became much less reliable under the influence of alcohol, something he readily indulged in during the holidays. Any combination of the holiday spirit and rum could set him off, and Rumple wasn't looking forward to it to put it bluntly.

Suddenly, that promise of mistletoe became very frightening. This was the second piece that the blond had encountered today, and he knew from experience that there were at least three more of them lying around.

Thus far, much to Rumple's contentment, Miles occupied most of Christmas Eve cooking, leaving Rumple to his own devices within the house's confines. Not wanting a repeat if the last time he was snowed in, this time, Rumple planned accordingly, and packed a few magical texts in advance. He cozied himself up in his basement office while Miles toiled away in the kitchen above him, only taking pauses to taste test some of his husband's food. As for Christmas Day, one of their gifts to each other was a morning of sleeping in, and Miles insisted after making them brunch that he wanted to work with his recipes a bit more before the company arrived.

Speaking of…

Ding-dong.

The doorbell's ring echoed through the corridor Rumple and Miles occupied.

"Just a second," Miles called out. He and Rumple stared at each other. Rumple's eyes formed and held onto a glare.

"Best behavior," the cursed imp mouthed out quietly, but not quite noiselessly.

"Fine," Miles returned in a matching voice, sprinkled with a tone of good-natured exasperation. He turned away from Rumple, the ambiguous state of the wreath beside them now completely forgotten as the couple looked at the door. Miles opened up the front door, and a wide grin stretched on his face.

"Swan! Mary Margaret! Merry Christmas!" The man moved out of the way so that the roommates could enter the house. As Emma and Mary Margaret came inside and joyously returned Miles' sentiments, Rumple couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow. For someone who he doubted really wanted to be a guest in his home, Mary Margaret unquestionably went all out in her attempts at courtesy. In her arms was a bowl of fresh fruit as well as a box of what the blond could only assume were assorted confections. Emma's hands were just as full, with a big green box with a red ribbon and bow taking up most to all of her free space.

"Let me take that from you," Miles said, relieving the schoolteacher of the food in her hands, and heading into the kitchen.

"A pleasure, as always, to see you Miss Swan, Miss Blanchard. Merry Christmas." Rumple took Emma's package, putting it inside the den, before putting their coats in the closet. The roommates returned the sentiment with varying degrees of excitement. Mary Margaret tensed up when Rumple approached her, and instinctively reached for her phone, as of she was expecting to see something on the dimmed screen.

I can see why Emma wanted a break from this.

Emma, by contrast, looked at him coolly and unwaveringly. Rumple simply kept up a pleasant smile as their eyes met.

"Nice house," she commented.

"Thank you," he answered. "It's so wonderful to finally have you two over." A pregnant pause loomed over the three, this time to the tune of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," before a voice once again reached out beyond the den's loud music.

"Rob," Miles called from the other room, "can you help me bring dinner out?"

"Be right there," Rumple returned. "If you two would like, please make your way to the dining room. Everything should be out in a moment." True to his word, within minutes, Rumple and Miles had the entire feast out and ready for the group's dining experience.

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Miles had outdone himself this year.

The dining room table was laid out with all manner of dishes, stretching from mashed potatoes and creamed spinach all the way to glazed ham. It wasn't much of a shocker for Rumple. From his point of view, Miles' cooking was easily the most bearable part of his life since the two of them entered this unwitting arrangement. . Back when he abhorred every waking moment of the cursed pirate's presence throughout his day, the food the man provided was the only good thing about coming come from the privacy of his shop. Every morsel of food on his plate was succulent and perfectly prepared.

Not bad for a one-handed fisherman.

Thankfully, despite completing the shopping before the decision to invite two more guests was made, it was quickly apparent that there was more than enough food to go around. Miles had a habit of always making too much food around the holidays anyways. It was nice to know that that very habit was about to pay off.

"Everything smells wonderful," Mary Margaret said. Rumple looked over at her as she exuberantly smiled at the company before her. The schoolteacher certainly looked stressed, but definitely less so than when she first came in.

I can say a lot about Miles, but I can't deny he's not a bad planner.

Everybody started readily filling their plates, passing around dish after dish until everyone was satisfied with what they got.

Then came the quiet.

The far-too-long-lasting-for-anyone's-comfort quiet.

Rumple was sure had he not been here, Miles, Emma, and Mary Margaret would've all gotten on fine, and had a lively dinner. However, the fact remained that he was there, and boy, did it show!

This may end up being a very long night.

Rumple was good at manipulation, but social situations proved to be his Kryptonite. In this realm, he had no advantages, and apart from one person, wasn't very well liked.

The room wasn't noiseless, but it wasn't exactly strident with sound either. Only the clanking of silver forks and knives against porcelain plates could be heard. It was like taking a test in a classroom; it had just enough noise to indicate that there were others there, but those few sounds of crackling pencils and rustling sheets could hardly alleviate the tenseness in the room. Rumple could see the growing look of dissatisfaction on his husband's face as they ate, practically hearing the man's thoughts. Said dissatisfaction finally culminated in the younger man speaking out.

"So, Swan," Miles said, breaking the silence. "There's something I'm a bit curious about."

"What's that," the blonde asked.

"You told me a while back about a superpower of yours. You said that you could tell when people were deceiving you. How does such a power work?"

Rumple hushed a snort. He had learned of Emma's superpower early on. He had actually been the one behind it. Back in their world, when Snow White summoned him to aid in a test of Regina's potential for redemption, he instantly saw the young princess' pregnancy. Knowing before he was ever asked that Snow's child would be the Savior, he cast a spell that would make the unborn baby's job a bit…simpler. A blessing of nearly flawless lie detection was both the perfect tool to give the Savior both general information and a coy introduction to her otherworldly origins.

Emma pondered Miles' question. "When I talk to someone, I can just read them, and tell if they're lying or not," Emma replied. "It's everything; their face, their eyes, how they speak. It just all comes together, and when something's up, something inside me just clicks."

"When did you first discover you had such an ability?"

"I was a kid. One of my foster families told me they were looking into adopting me. I could tell something was wrong, but they kept dismissing it." Emma sighed. "About a week later, I found out I was right," she finished in a grumble.

"Swan," Miles said, taking a tone of sobriety with his blonde friend.

"It's fine," Emma dismissed, her tone showing a level of disbelief in even her own words. She looked down at her food. It looked and smelled great, but suddenly, she wasn't very hungry anymore.

Everyone got uneasy for a moment, leading to another elongated pause that finally ended when a previously quiet guest decided to speak. With Emma and Miles both clearly having trouble making conversation after such a depressing confession, and Rumple offering up nothing to fill the silence in the air, Mary Margaret seemed to take it upon herself to bring up a topic.

"Are you two going to Granny's New Year's party?"

Oh no!

While Robert and Miles didn't really put in much of an effort to ever celebrate the beginning of the New Year, a lot of that reason was because the couple was never invited anywhere. Many of the townspeople liked Miles, but, as an invitation for him meant an invitation for his far less adored husband by proxy, they tended to keep the couple outside of their plans. It was honestly fine, albeit guilt-inducing for Robert. It wasn't like he'd rather spend the meaningless holiday with anyone else anyways. Rumple had resolved from the moment he received the verbalized invitation form Ruby to not disclose the information to his husband. Now though, thanks to the schoolteacher, those plans had just gone down the drain if Miles' expectant look was anything to go by.

My lady, feel lucky that you birthed the Savior, lest my mercy be not so great.

"A-ah, yes," Rumple spoke, doing his best to play dumb. "I'm sorry. It must've slipped my mind. The young Miss Lucas invited me yesterday."

"Want to go," Miles asked, shrugging.

Rumple was all but ready to say no, but in the face of three sets of eyes, one of whose being the Savior's, the task was easier said than done. Besides, if Mary Margaret was going, it was all but an inevitability that she would bring along her dear friend Emma. Even with the prospect of having to deal with his new "friend" Ruby, the benefits of the decision could hardly be ignored.

"Why not," he finally answered, smiling at Miles.

Look on the bright side Rumple. At least it won't be yet another night alone with nothing but him.

…

Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be far worse?

"Should be fun," Miles said excitedly. "We hardly ever do anything for New Years. A rather senseless holiday if you ask me, but hey, a night out's a night out."

Mary Margaret's efforts appeared to be the final key needed to get conversations flowing. From then on, everyone got involved in the dinnertime discussions, and the topics varied greatly, covering everything from funny work incidents to news stories to favorite Christmas traditions.

In contrast to the weather outside, the ice had finally been broken.

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A reprieve from conversation as she and her other companions brought their dishes to the Gold family's kitchen gave Emma a chance to reflect on her evening thus far, one she truly appreciated.

The night had been a lucky one for the blonde sheriff so far, a fact that she wouldn't deny. Thanks to Miles' generosity, she managed to escape another night alone with her neurotic roommate and actually managed to make the schoolteacher forget that David Nolan even existed for an hour!

More than relaxed though by her friend's mannerisms, Emma had found herself surprised at how Rumple and Miles interacted. Perhaps it was just the settings that she had seen them in together thus far, but the couple had never seemed as…intimate as they looked tonight. This evening, they joked around, smiled at each other, and even told a story or two together. Of course Emma knew that they had a strong connection, but this was the first time she really had a chance to see it in action. This was closer to the couple she believed the two would be like when Miles first described their relationship to her.

And she liked it. The Mr. Gold she saw right now was much more like the man who she felt Miles deserved in his life; someone to make him happy.

That didn't, however, mean that she wanted to talk to the pawnbroker by any means. So far, she had done a spectacular job of avoiding directly speaking with the man, either by allowing one of her friends the chance to respond in her place or just by directing her responses to any of his inquiries towards their whole group. Unfortunately for Emma, for as lucky as her night had seemed to be thus far, it appeared as though her luck had just run out when Miles and Mary Margaret stood up.

"Dessert time," Miles called out. "Hope your appetites are still plentiful!"

"I better help you," Mary Margaret suggested. Emma started to get up, but Miles stopped her with an outstretched arm.

"You two sit tight," Miles hollered as he and the schoolteacher disappeared into the adjacent hallway. "We'll be right back!" Emma heard a bump come from the kitchen very soon after her friends left the dining room.

Looks like the wine's getting to Miles.

As the sounds from the kitchen quieted, so did the realization of just where she was come to her.

Oh, great. Alone with him now.

At least while Miles and Mary Margaret had been around, there were other people to talk to. Emma had been able to, for the most part, ignore her friend's husband in favor of her other companions without much difficulty. Now, though, it was just them alone, forced by the very social convention that saved Emma's night to talk.

Emma was pretty sure Rumple shared at least the same stratosphere of her shock, because he had yet to say anything to her, despite the unsure look on his face telling her that he had every intention of doing so. Upon examining the man's mannerisms, Emma started to see just how co-dependent he could be when he was on his own in situations like this. She got the feeling that unless she was dealing with someone like Miles who he shared a deep relationship with or one of his clients who he could easily intimidate, this was how he was when it came to actually interacting with people on a casual level.

Something tells me small talk isn't this guy's specialty.

"How's your son," Rumple inquired, looking over at Emma. Emma blinked, taking a second to register the question.

"He's…fine," she answered, looking down at the table and biting her lip.

"You see him at all during the holiday?" Emma eyed him, but he just smiled at her, perhaps out of nerves.

"Yeah. We had lunch at Granny's yesterday."

"Did you get him anything for Christmas?"

"A journal with a snake on it." Even as she said it, the sheriff was careful not to use one specific word to describe the emblem that decorated her son's gift: cobra.

It'll probably upset the kid if Gold finds out about Operation Cobra.

Emma knew Gold had heard a word or two about she and Henry's little operation while engaged in their group chat the night of the fire. Henry didn't elaborate on it when Miles pressed, but Emma had no doubt that if anyone would remember it, it would be the man in front of her. The very man who she was all too aware would do anything to get what he wanted, up to and including involving her son when it wasn't called for.

"Funny you should say that," said man retorted.

Emma furrowed her eyebrows and made eye contact with the wizard. "Why?"

"I happened to be in the bookshop last week, and saw Henry purchase the exact same thing. How funny would it have been had he given you the exact same present?"

"He actually did," the blonde admitted slowly, thinking back to the other day when she received the diary. Emma's eyes perked up, as if she just had a realization. "No wonder the guy at the bookstore was laughing when I paid for it," the woman muttered. Rumple chuckled, and Emma's eyes narrowed suspiciously in response. "You're in a good mood."

"Come, Miss Swan. You have to admit that's adorable."

Okay, it was.

"He's a cute kid," she shrugged.

"You two seem to get on very well. Sometimes, when I'm driving, I see the two of you talking on the playground."

Emma grew uneasy quickly at Rumple's mention of that. Henry's castle was a special place for she and Henry. When they were hanging out on that sandy playground, they seemed to connect on a deeper level. There, she felt like the last ten years hadn't happened and they had been mother and son the whole time. They shared secrets, and stories, and jokes. Henry would go on about Operation Cobra and who everyone in the tow was or hours. Emma swore one time, he was listing people off by their stores on Main Street, stretching all the way from Granny's to Any Given Sundae! Emma, digressed, but the point was still the same: that place was special to her. The idea that someone else, barring Mary Margaret, knew about the general transpirations of that place, let alone Gold of all people, made Emma apprehensive to say the very least.

"You should be glad that you and your boy have a place like that," Rumple continued. As Emma noted his words, a recollection resurfaced in her mind: Gold had also had a child at one point. She hardly had the chance to ask more about him since she learned of his existence, but she wouldn't deny that it was something she wanted to learn more about. Not to mention, if Emma was being honest with herself, what better time was there to ask about memories like those than during Christmas?

"Your son, what was his name?" Her companion blinked, mirroring Emma's action from before. He stared at her for a few more seconds before answering.

"Oliver," Rumple said.

"What was he like?"

"Other than the greatest son a man could ask for? He was wide-eyed and curious, like most boys his age. He was brave and clever and just a little bit frank, not unlike your Henry, though he never ran away or stole credit cards." Emma furrowed her brow at him at the mention of Henry's misdeeds, but Rumple continued. "I wanted to give him everything I ever could." Rumple's eyes darkened. "But I failed. He and his mother died in a car accident, the same one that my limp stems from. Some drunk decided that his inebriated control of the road was more important than the safety of my family." Rumple's tone was sharp, and his hands curled into fists. Emma's eyes widened. It was the closest the pawnbroker had ever come to showing true anger to her, though it didn't last long. Gold must've remembered where he was, because with a shake of his head and a deep breath, he was himself again. "But that's the past, and I've made my peace with it, at least as best as I could."

"I don't think I ever could if something like that happened to Henry," Emma confessed.

"It's daunting," Rumple acknowledged truthfully. "I don't think I ever would've gotten by without Miles."

"He's a pretty great man." Emma could've sworn she saw Rumple's eyes narrow for a second before he responded.

"He sure is."

And just like that, Miles, alongside Mary Margaret, returned, each with armfuls of pastries and fruit, and just as instantly, she and the now less mysterious pawnbroker's thought-provoking conversation was over.

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Despite the evening's shaky beginnings, it had not been a fruitless endeavor, that much was certain as far as Rumple was concerned. His and Emma's discussion had forged what he believed was some loose form of camaraderie. Rumple was confident that a certain level of trust had been restored to him after bonding over their love for their children.

That boy's quite the tool.

Unfortunately for Rumple, at one point during his and Emma's talk, things had gotten too real, and he had to shake his head just to bring himself back to reality. He knew the story of Oliver's past wasn't real, but anytime he thought, even about Baelfire's fake story, he just imagined every possibility where his search would end in the discovery of a grave marked with his son's name. Rumple had to constantly remind himself that there was still hope of rescuing his boy, and that he, against all odds, Evil Queens, and Captains, would find him.

Much to Rumple's chagrin, Emma had only helped herself to one glass of wine over the course of the long dinner. Not even Mary Margaret gave the bottle more than one small pour. No, the only one who readily engaged themselves in the bottle time and time again was, of course, Miles. The man continued to fill and refill his cup just as quickly as he drowned it down. Because of that, his eyes grew glossier, his speech more slurred, and consequently, his stories more embarrassing, and at the moment, they happened to be in the midst of a doozy.

"By the end of the night, I was stuck watching half of The King's Speech with a full bladder 'cause this one," Miles said, playfully nudging Rumple, "fell asleep while holding onto me arm!" Miles burst out laughing, and Emma and Mary Margaret couldn't contain their snickers. Rumple glowered, but held himself back.

"Okay, Miles. I think that's enough storytelling for one night," he beseeched, attempting to play the situation cool as he moved the other man's alcohol-ridden glass away from him. Rumple looked up towards his other two dining companions. "How about we go into the other room? We have A Miracle on 34th Street." The two, much to Rumple's relief, nodded, and Rumple and a graceless Miles began to lead the way into the den. The comfortable living room's entryway was but an inch away from the wizard's face when suddenly, he felt a pulling sensation from the back of his shirt collar. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head around, only to see Miles' hand on his shirt and his body approaching Rumple's from the front. Rumple got worried. There was something in Miles smile that was just…sinister. He looked at the younger man, clearly confused. The two women who the couple was previously leading into the room watched from a distance, viewing the scene as it played out.

"Is something wrong," Rumple wondered aloud.

Miles raised a flawless brow. "You tell me." His piercing blue eyes headed upwards towards the ceiling.

Rumple voiced his confusion in a faint "what," but upon looking up, the sound died in his throat.

"Mistletoe," Emma commented. A smirk crossed her face as she leaned across the nearest wall, and her roommate blushed.

"Pucker up," Miles smugly suggested before leaning his face towards Rumple's. Rumple couldn't get a word in edgewise before their lips pressed against one another. The pawnbroker whined into the smooch just as fiercely as he strength he put into returning it. Just the kiss itself would've been bad enough, but no.

It had one of those kisses.

This was one of the very kisses that brought Rumple to his wit's end, and left his body in a horrible state of perplexity over how to react to them. They were from Hook, yes, but they were also so good. Too good to deny. His body reacted faster than his mind, and immediately, he was returning the gesture, tact and grace being damned in the process. While this was happening, Rumple's knees threatened to buckle beneath him, and the blond was convinced his cane was his sole saving grace from that fate.

Rumple counted seven seconds exactly before Miles released his lips.

"Now that's a kiss," Miles teased, a triumphant smirk upon his face with a wink added for good measure. Rumple put up an upset front, but Miles clearly wasn't buying it. The cursed imp didn't settle on whether to attribute that to either Miles' intuition or the wine in his belly. Either way, he was flustered by it, and said flustering led to an inconspicuous patch of heat settling in on his cheeks. He looked down, but was able to catch a glance of the unknowing mother and daughter getting quite the eyefuls as he did so.

If their faces were anything to go by, Rumple had a sneaking suspicion they weren't going to forget that moment anytime soon.

Rumple sat on the armchair next to the couch. The sofa only had enough room for three people, and the moment that kiss ended, he decided he was not going to be one of them. Miles didn't seem to be disheartened by that fact, clearly satisfied by their brush under the mistletoe.

The moment I get my magic back, that plant dies.

The group enjoyed the movie in relative peace, only stirring for refills on drinks, all of which were from Miles, and bathroom breaks. When it was finally over, Emma and Mary Margaret at last felt it was a fitting time to take their leave.

"These are from us," Rumple said, handing each of their guests a medium sized box covered by red wrapping paper. The two roommates opened up their presents, delighted to see hot cocoa and mug sets.

"Merry Christmas, Swan," Miles loudly cheered as Rumple gave her back her coat.

"Merry Christmas, Miles," Emma returned, stifling a laugh as she pat her inebriated friend on the shoulder.

"Emma," Rumple said, stepping forward with an outstretched hand as Miles bit their other guest farewell. "Merry Christmas." Emma looked at the hand, but unlike when they were first left alone, her eyes looked…softer.

"Merry Christmas," she answered genuinely. She met his hand with her own as they locked eyes and shook. After a less sincere goodbye, the two roommates were off, and Rumple and Miles were once again left on their own to finish off the remaining hours of the holiday together.

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Hours passed. The couple watched another holiday movie, during which, after a bit of begging, Rumple was persuaded to rejoin his pleading husband on the sofa to relax together. After being entranced by the lull of the film's credits music, Rumple rested in Miles's arms, and for a moment, the two did nothing but admire their simple, yet elegant tree. It was composed of a basic stretch of lights on every level of the tree, with a gold-colored star adorning the treetop.

"Beautiful tree," Rumple commented.

"Beautiful man to watch it with," Miles returned. For as drunk as the man obviously was, he held himself together well enough for the moment. "I think this was a great Christmas."

Rumple couldn't help but agree. "Me too, though I'm convinced you just liked it because you got to show off your cooking to our guests."

"Untrue," Miles argued. Rumple was sure his husband knew that his accusation was made in jest, but as Miles pulled them both upwards so that they were sitting upright, he had to wonder just what was going through his dear husband's mind. Hands and Miles' stub met in the space between their bodies. "It was great because I got to spend it with you."

Rumple knew what was coming. Headed his was another heartfelt anecdote from the man before him. Rumple didn't like how undeniably genuine they were, and worse, how he was starting to empathize with Miles over them.

Not going to happen, dearie.

"Spare me a sappy speech," he jokingly pleaded. "Between the ones you gave me on your birthday, and the one you gave me last week, I'm surprised my cheeks haven't been permanently shaded the color of a tomato."

Miles snorted. "Fine," he shrugged. "But that very sparing is your present."

"I think not!"

If I'm to live under this curse, I might as well get something out of it.

"You sure," Miles coyly said in a singsong tone.

"Not. Going. To. Happen," Rumple snipped.

Miles burst out into a fit of laughter and pulled Rumple in right next to him. "I love you Rob. You're hysterical." Miles allowed the giggles to slowly fade away while Rumple battled the urge to pull away from his not even subtly drunk husband as his neck stayed cradled under the younger man's arm.

I'm not sure which smells worse: His underarm or the wine on his lips.

"Alright, alright," the cursed pirate breathed, settling down as the last of his giggles left his lungs. "Here's your present," he said, taking a small notepad out of his jacket pocket using his free hand.

Rumple took the notepad that was barely bigger than the height of his hand into his possession. On the cover, written in a black Sharpie, were the words, 'Happy Holidays, Rob!'

"Open it," Miles demanded boisterously. Rumple was tempted to cover his ears, but the present in his hand made him dismiss the idea. He opened the book, and looked at the largely printed words that made up the first page.

'One Free Half-Hour Foot Rub.'

"Miles," Rumple beckoned. "What is this?" He looked back to meet Miles' eyes that seemed to be what should be a rare cross between excited and smug, but Rumple knew it to be far too common for the younger man.

"A coupon book."

Rumple raised an eyebrow. "A coupon book, huh?"

"Yeah," Miles responded excitedly. "I read about them online! They're supposed to be fun. There's a bunch of chores and activities in there. You pick out what you want me to do, give me the coupon, and I do it. See, I made a bunch of them!" Rumple sifted through the notebook, and looked through the different coupons. A few of them were a bit on the clichéd side like, 'One Night of Dish Duty,' 'One Free Load of Laundry,' and the coveted 'One Free Victory in a Fight.' Some, however, were a bit more creative and useful, like 'One Free Dusting of the Pawnshop,' 'Rob Gets to Pick out Dinner,' and 'One Night of Peace and Quiet.' There were even duplicates of most of them, what Rumple assumed was an attempt at filling up the notebook easier. Despite its simplicity, Rumple couldn't stop himself from liking it. Miles clearly put some work into it, thinking of all the different tasks he would put into what looked like a 50-page notebook, and there was clearly a lot he was willing to do on Rumple's behalf.

It was a nice gift.

These may come in handy sometime.

It's definitely better than that "present," if it even deserves to be called that, that our guests left us with.

Yes, before they left, Emma and Mary Margaret had given them a present: a waffle iron. Rumple was baffled by its mere existence in their home, even hours after the two women left. Miles looked adequately content with the gift, but the cursed wizard had to hold back a ghastly expression from appearing on his face after unboxing it. The couple hardly ever ate breakfast, and on the odd occasion that they did, the result was much more appetizing than…waffles.

I think, after the curse ends, I'll let Hook keep this one.

The present reeked of Mary Margaret. Emma, as much as Rumple theorized she hated him, wouldn't gift them this travesty! And the blond was sure Miles wouldn't resist the urge to try it out, justifying the decision by reminding Rumple the importance of using presents.

I can just hear him saying it now. 'They took the time to get it for us. We at least owe it to them to try it.'

I guess I know what I'm having for breakfast for the next week.

In the face of such an oddity, Miles' gift soon became as good as gold.

"Thank you, Miles," Rumple said. He planted a soft kiss on his partner's lips, all the while cautious as to keep his lips tightly shut as to avoid any tomfoolery. Miles, however, was having none of that, and pushed his tongue into the entryway of Rumple's mouth. Rumple reluctantly accepted the invitation, and became further distressed by the actions that followed.

Not those kisses again.

Miles was on him, and he was on him hard. Every stroke of the tongue made Rumple both whine in disdain and shudder in delight at the same time. The taste of alcohol on Miles' tongue was strong, strong enough that a light burning sensation spread into Rumple's mouth. In seconds, their chests were pulled together with their arms secured behind each other's backs, the blond's present now a forgotten slice of onion in the sandwich that was their embrace. Miles moaned into their kisses. "Oh Rob," he loudly moaned during a break for air. "I love you." More kissing. "So much." Another kiss. "God, how did I end up married to the most amazing man alive?"

"You didn't," Rumple retorted between a kiss. "You got married to me."

"One in the same, love." A moan that sounded more like a neighing horse escaped the younger man's lips. "Let's stay here forever. Never leave the house again. Just you and me."

"I think the rum has, at last, consumed the final remnants of your brain cells."

"Swan could bring us pizza!"

"Eh. I'd get bored of you soon enough."

Miles broke the kiss and looked at Rumple with an expression of mock hurt. "Bored of me? Well I never! Fine, I don't want you for that long anyways." The younger man put up a pout and dramatically twisted his head to the side.

"You can't reject me like that," Rumple said, playing along.

"And you can!" Miles' façade fell apart. "Bit of a double standard, love. But whatever, come here!" Before Rumple had a chance to react, his husband once again pulled him in tight, this time thankfully in a hug.

I swear, if he kisses me one more time, I'm going to get drunk off the residuals!

"Do you like your present," the cursed pirate inquired.

"Yes," Rumple answered honestly.

"Good, because I know what you can give me." Miles broke the hug.

Rumple rolled his eyes. "Has it occurred to you that I already got you a present?"

"Yeah," Miles shrugged. "But I want something else too."

"Aren't you greedy?"

"You tell me."

"Yes. Yes you are." Miles winked at him, and Rumple sighed. He decided to stop himself there, knowing they could very well argue about it all night. "Well, might as well let me know. What is it that you want?"

"Join me."

"What do you mean?"

And then, Miles did just that.

"Chestnuts roasted on an open fire," he sang. "Jack Frost nipping at your nose."

Rumple groaned. He should've seen it coming honestly. For someone who liked hearing the sound of his own voice so much like Rumple and Robert did, a dislike of singing was so peculiar, yet it did exist. When Rumple was back with the spinsters all those centuries ago, they always had him sing carols to make the monotonous day of spinning a bit livelier. The songs they sang were repetitive, he didn't enjoy the vibrating feeling in his throat, and the spinsters, for all their joking about how they could join the opera, weren't particularly talented. The whole experience just turned Rumple off from the activity in general, to the point where when he finally ran a household, he worked in complete silence and glared at Milah anytime so much as one musical note left her lips. Robert's memories weren't much further off, something about an embarrassing concert when he was a child. He only put up with it occasionally on Miles' behalf. His husband simply loved hearing him hold a tune, and, in the interest of keeping his lover amused, Robert occasionally gave in when requested and performed a little number for him. Besides, more often than not, Miles was willing to join in, and even Rumple could attest to the fact that the man was quite the gifted musician as well.

"You know I can't stand singing."

"Yeah. I do," Miles admitted. "But I figured, if I jump in, maybe you'd be willing to. You liked the idea of me doing it three birthdays ago."

"That was until you dropped out, and forced me to finish half of 'Wanted Dead or Alive' all by myself."

Miles took Rumple's hand. "I promise, I won't leave you this time until you want me to. Please, babe, you've the voice of an angel. I just want to hear it on the night that we celebrate them. So, how about it? One song?"

Why did you have to say it like that?

"Fine," Rumple conceded, only a little sore at his defeat at the cursed pirate's hand. "Yuletide carols being sung by a choir and folks dressed up like Eskimos," he sang, with Miles immediately joining in. They sang through the entirety of "The Christmas Song," and through Miles' persuasion, "White Christmas," and a couple of others. It was only after finishing "Silent Night" did Rumple realize he was singing mostly on his own. A moment afterwards, the muscles resting beside the blond's arm suddenly felt far less tense, and a gentle snore made its way to his ears. Rumple looked at his partner.

Miles was asleep.

Rumple tried to wake him, but to no avail. He was simply too far-gone in his reveries to bother with the demands of reality.

How does this man pass out so quickly?

The blond decided that he would wait until the next day to show off the television he procured for their room. Miles' birthday may not have been as bad as Rumple predicted it was going to be, but one aspect he could honestly say he didn't care for in the slightest was being pressed into the couch for a good chunk of it. Should the curse last at least another year, Rumple didn't want a repeat of that experience.

Oh, Merlin. Please don't let that be the case.

In the meantime, he'd grab a blanket for his sleeping husband, and gravitate himself to the space beside him. As much as he loathed that accursed couch, he still found it all but impossible to sleep without Miles right next to him for the time being. Besides, leaving the room entirely would be simply too cold an action for Rumple to take and he was well aware of it. He hated the position, but for now, it was the most suitable option available. As he crept onto the sofa, underneath the plush blanket's warmth, he felt Miles pull him in closer rubbing his shoulders with his hand and stub. Despite himself, despite everything that told him how wrong it was, Rumple smiled at him in an appreciating manner, and whispered one final thing to a set of deaf ears before joining the man next to him in the joys of sleep.

"Good night, Miles. Merry Christmas."

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A/N: This was a fun chapter to put together. At first, it was just supposed to be Rumple and Miles alone, but one morning the idea of bringing in Emma and Mary Margaret came to mind, and since I wanted to do a scene where Emma has dinner at the Golden Hook house, it ended up working out perfectly!

While I was writing this, I realized, it's been about nine months since I posted Chapter 1 of Marital Bliss! Wow! If you had told me one year ago that I would actually start writing fanfiction again, and that I would be THIS successful with keeping it going, I'd have laughed your ass all the way to Storybrooke. Seriously though, thank you to all my readers, whether you've been here since the beginning or just joined the readership. I'm so thankful for all of you!

Again, love it, hate it, or anything in between, please review (Want to shoot for nine reviews for the nine-month anniversary?), AND, more importantly, be sure to also give a read, and certainly a review if you are so inclined, to "He Asked for Comfort," by Crysania, and "Fool's Gold," by Akaiba on AO3. They're both really good reads, and after inspiring me to write "Marital Bliss," they totally deserve at least a moment of your time.

Next time on Marital Bliss, Miles finally gets between Rumple's legs! See you soon!