prompt: I'm the drama teacher and you're the only who can actually act help me demonstrate this love scene to my students.

can't get you off my mind

Emma Swan has been living with Killian Jones since she moved to the city.

She's known him for about ten years. Their relationship has always been a little awkward, push and pull, will-they-won't-they style. Her friends all tell her that one day she'll see the light about him, that she'll realize she's been in love with him since freshman year, Acting 101, but she won't admit it's true.

Killian Jones is a nit-picky, arrogant, snarky bastard who just so happens to smell fantastic and dress like a freaking model.

He always has women over, anyway, so if she ever did fall for him, which is never happening, it would be unrequited.

As she peruses the script she's been having her students read through over breakfast one morning, she frowns, nibbling at her lower lip as she glances up.

He's sitting at the kitchen counter, studying the newspaper with his ridiculously messy hair and his spoon half-raised between the bowl of Fruit Loops and his mouth.

She'd probably never admit that he's the most attractive in the mornings. Nope, not ever.

Or that he wears plaid really, incredibly well. Or that he sings like a freaking rock star and needs to play at huge venues and-

And he's her roommate and her friend and he's ridiculous and she can't.

"Hey Killian?" He hums, but doesn't look up at her. Emma takes a breath. "Do you think you could come in and help me with something today in class?"

That makes him look up. He swallows his spoonful and shrugs. "What is it you need help with?"

"Just a scene," she says without further explanation. She smiles. "And it wouldn't take very long. The class that I'd need you for is right away this morning, so-"

He narrows his eyes a little and nods. "Well, alright. Might I see the script?"

Emma hesitates and she feels her face warming up as she tries to just tell him what it is. "Uh, yeah, sure." She goes and sets the script down by his newspaper before rushing off to her bedroom so she can occupy herself with finishing getting ready for the day.

When she goes back out into the kitchen, where he's still sitting.

He smirks at her, all teeth and cocked eyebrow, a ridiculous pairing. "A love scene?"

She gives him a look, folding her arms to her chest. "You're the only actor I know at the moment and these students need to understand what it looks like when it's done professionally."

He hums, eyes flitting over the words on the page. "Well, I humbly accept your offer, Swan." He sets the script down and approaches her, getting uncomfortably close. "I'd best brush my teeth before we go."

Emma bites her tongue and sighs as he goes off for the bathroom they share.

So maybe she has feelings for him. Kissing him won't be the end of it for her. Will it?

/

By the time Emma gets to work, Killian has informed her in a hundred different ways that he's a little more than excited about their kiss. She shakes it off as him being his standard flirtatious, stupid, dumb self and goes about her business of organizing things before class starts.

She smiles as the students start filing in and begins resting the script sides on their desks. It's a small class and she's very lucky to have even gotten this position as teacher at the college in the city.

Killian sits at her desk, his legs folded on the wood while he reclines back in her chair. She shoots him a look, slumping her shoulders, as she returns to him.

"Killian, this is my classroom, you play by my rules. Feet on the floor."

He grumbles at her and does as she tells him. "Should've known you'd be one of those."

Emma sighs and checks her phone for the time. "Okay. Class starts now, so why don't you act like an actual adult for just an hour?"

Now it's his turn to give her a look.

She smirks as she turns to the happily chattering class. "Good morning, guys."

"Morning," they chorus back.

She claps her hands together. "Okay, so this morning, I thought since we're starting to learn about stage kissing and love scenes, I'd bring in my good friend, Killian." Emma gestures to him and he grins wide, waving at the class. "He's an actor as well. We went to school together, actually, and I asked him if he'd be willing to help us out."

Emma smiles warmly before holding up her sides. "Let's first discuss what we've been learning about stage kissing, then we'll read through these lines and Killian and I will show you how it's done."

The class moves forward and she tries to keep the butterflies from her belly whenever she happens to glance over at Killian. He's listening attentively, his expression quite serious and involved as the conversation in her classroom evolves. It reminds her quite a bit of when they were in college themselves.

When it comes time to perform, Killian jumps up out of her chair with a big grin on his face and his sides in his hand. She takes a breath as he draws even closer to her.

"Do you know your lines?" she asks. "Because we probably shouldn't use them."

"I know my lines." He quirks an eyebrow, then leans in, as if no one else is around, lowering his voice dangerously. "But do you?"

Emma swallows, feeling her belly flop at the way he stares at her. She hates that this is happening right now, in the middle of class. Why couldn't he save the attitude for the apartment?

"I have them down."

"Good." Killian plucks her papers from her hands and then settles them back on her desk before rejoining her.

Emma takes a breath. It takes all that's in her to steady herself. "Okay, so… I have the first line." He nods.

"Go ahead, then," he says. Emma bobs her head and she watches him for a second as she puts herself into her character.

She watches as he transforms himself into his character as well, something she always loved watching while they were in school. He's a brilliant actor, so it's no surprise to her that he's been fairly successful at landing roles in plays and movies here. She's so proud of him, too, because he's worked his whole life at becoming an actor.

"Did you really save his life?" she asks.

Killian raises an eyebrow at her, daring her almost. "That surprise you?"

"Well, you and David aren't exactly… how do you say it, mates?" A light chuckle falls over her classroom as she tries out his accent.

He stays with her, though, looking off to the side before meeting her eyes as he speaks. "Doesn't mean I leave your father to perish on this island."

"Thank you."

Killian takes a gentle step toward her and she feels the butterflies again, this time a stuttering in her chest accompanying them.

Oh, no, she really brought this onto herself, didn't she? She definitely should have just had her students try it out and showed a YouTube video instead of having a real life example.

He reaches up with his right hand and scratches at his ear before pulling his forefinger to his lips, giving them a playful tap as his eyebrows raise in suggestion.

"Well, perhaps gratitude is in order now."

Emma smiles a little, turning her anxiousness into eagerness within a heartbeat of a second. She nods. "Yeah, that's what the thank you was for."

"Oh, is that all your father's life is worth to you?" Killian steps even closer, so close she can smell his cologne.

He's magnetic when he's acting, and she knows he doesn't have to dig far for this dashing rapscallion of a character he's doling out. He smiles coyly, teasing and taunting her.

She's almost wishing now that she didn't pick a script that matched him nearly to a tee, because it'll be hard to distinguish whom she's kissing in a few moments.

"Please." Emma snorts, "You couldn't handle it."

He grins, leaning in as he taunts her straight back. "Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it." He places emphasis on his it and she searches his eyes for a moment, hesitating, deciding in her character's mind, before reaching in and tugging him by the lapels of his stupid leather jacket.

She crushes her lips to his and slides her hand up into his hair, the sensation almost completely overwhelming when he emits a little groan. His hand finds her hair and they anchor to each other, moving and keeping the kiss going even when it probably should technically be done and over. His tongue is in her mouth and her knees are starting to wobble, the knot tightening in her belly as a shot of need runs down her spine.

This wasn't a good idea. This was a terrible idea. Shit.

She finally breaks it when she feels like she's probably going to combust and staggers back, gripping his collar tight. Their foreheads touch and their breathing is intensely labored. "That was…"

"A one time thing."

When she steps back from him, she finds his cheeks flushed and his eyes have broken out of character.

Well, damn it all to hell. He felt it too.

The class is eerily silent for a moment before she turns to them with a smile. "So that's how it's done!"

Her students clap enthusiastically for them and she tells them to check the syllabus for their homework assignment before dismissing them for the day.

It doesn't take very long for him to start acting like a brooding puppy, his facial expression full of a sense of disbelief, almost, as she goes to grab her things to take him back to their apartment. She slumps her shoulders at him.

"Killian, it was just a kiss." Emma tells him. "We were acting."

He pulls on a smile. "Aye. I suppose so." There's a pause and she feels a clenching in her gut, pulling her back to the moment when his lips had been on hers.

"We should go. I have a meeting in an hour and a half."

He nods and they don't speak until they get back to the apartment, and it's only to tell each other they'll see each other later.

/

For two weeks, it's misery.

She can't escape him, and they keep having near-collisions within the apartment even more than what feels like is humanly possible. Sitting up with him while she grades papers is almost as worse as the kiss was. He's stupidly attractive, sitting there watching baseball with his lazy clothes on, his hair a wild mess from the nap he'd taken after work.

They talk less, but somehow more at the same time now that they've kissed. His eyes do a lot of the talking, always so yearning and full. He teases her less, but he does still joke around when they're with friends.

She finds just about everything he does now to be unfairly attractive, and she curses herself always for seeing him like this.

And it's even worse when she walks in on him in the bathroom in the full on nude. It takes her a few long hours of soothing classical music and a long walk around the city to feel even a little up to talking to anyone again, much less coming back to the apartment so they can both wear their shame on their sleeves.

It's not until Emma comes back home from a long day at school, watching her students perform love scenes and critiquing their techniques, her memories really always flashing back to Killian and his dumb lips, that things finally change.

She drives home thinking about him and the way she'd felt kissing him. She hasn't felt like that in a long time, and judging by the way he always stares at her now, it's probably safe to say it's the same feeling for him. That, and he hasn't had a girl over since they kissed.

She enters the apartment and immediately, she's overwhelmed by the smell of food. She furrows her brow. "What's going on here?"

Killian's standing in their kitchen with an apron on and a smile on his face. "Ah! You're back."

She narrows her eyes at him. "What's going on? You never cook."

Her roommate gives her a little look, but then comes over to her. "We're having dinner."

"Why?" she asks, drawing the word out with frustration.

Killian shrugs. "Because."

And now it's an argument, because they kissed and everything between them is laced with deeper meaning.

"Because why?"

Killian gives her a stern look. "Swan, I'm just trying to be nice and cook us a meal."

She hums cautiously. "You never cook, and when you do it's a disaster. My point still stands."

He grits his teeth, making his jaw lock a little. "Dammit, Emma," Killian takes a deep breath, steeling himself. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about our kiss since it happened."

Emma's jaw falls open and she blinks at him. "Wha-"

He takes a few steps closer to her and her heart stammers in her chest while her stomach ties up. His eyes carry the vulnerability she'd seen in him after their kiss, so big and blue. "Emma, that kiss wasn't acting, was it?"

She swallows as he gets into the bubble that he'd been in before the kiss and blinks up at him. She doesn't know what to say.

"Because it wasn't for me," he whispers. "And I have a sneaking suspicion it wasn't for you either."

Emma stares at him as she soaks in the noises of the apartment. There's water boiling and he has the TV on some sports channel. It's home for them, and it hasn't felt like home since the kiss, because there have been walls up for both of them.

"I'm afraid," she admits quietly. "I don't want this to end our friendship."

"It won't," Killian promises. She sees his honesty in his eyes and she clings to it like a lifeline. "Because you are my very best friend and I don't think that will ever change."

He leans in toward her and she pushes up on her toes, moving to press their foreheads together as her hands grab at the back of his neck. Her eyes squeeze tightly shut. "It wasn't just acting for me either."

"Good," he breathes against her lips, "good."