Author's note: Just a little teacher/student AU. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Um, no.

School Hard

It was both his favorite and least favorite class of the week.

Only two years post doctorate, Killian knew how lucky he was to be teaching a class at this level at all. Most new professors got stuck with intro level courses, with classes far too large to manage. But he'd been hired specifically for his knowledge of the subject matter, his predecessor having retired after forty long years in academia. It was a plum job, and Killian knew it.

So he loved entering this class three times a week, prepared to expound on the realities of living in Medieval Britain and Ireland. He liked to think that his nationality had given him a leg up in the application process, as an Englishman born and raised. His brother thought he was mad to move to the States just to teach, but he liked it. And Americans certainly were entertaining.

The only drawback to this class was Emma Swan.

As he entered the classroom, his heart sped up just a fraction as he searched for her sparkling green eyes. He repressed a twinge of disappointment when he saw that she wasn't in her usual seat yet. He must be early.

It was awful. And reckless. And stupid. And jeopardized his entire career, but he couldn't seem to help himself. There was just something about her that he was helpless to resist.

It had started innocently enough. Emma was intelligent, fiercely intelligent. He'd noticed that the very first week of class. She asked good questions, often stopping him in mid lecture, just to get clarification on a point he was making. She challenged him, her voice usually quiet but determined, not intimidated by his fancy degrees. As the weeks past, she began remaining behind after class, trying to argue some point with him. It was stimulating, intellectually speaking. There weren't many people her age who cared about things like sanitation in medieval London.

Which was saying a lot considering he was only about seven years older than her. She was a 22 year old junior, who'd taken a year off after high school to work. He only knew that because she kept dropping hints about herself during their conversations. It took him a while to figure out that she was flirting with him, which had left him stunned.

It wasn't like he didn't have eyes. He wasn't blind. Emma was a gorgeous girl, all long blonde hair, high cheekbones, lush curves and those green eyes. But it was highly inappropriate. He'd managed to ignore the intense physical pull she had on him, trying to keep their relationship strictly educational.

Which would have worked if they didn't both have tempers under their cool demeanors. Stupidly, he'd offered to move their latest discussion to his office when they lingered too long in the classroom. Back and forth they went on the merits of Eleanor of Aquitaine's rebellion against her husband, Henry II, each argument more impassioned than the next. They were shouting, faces flushed, getting closer and closer to each other until Emma grabbed the lapels of his blazer and yanked him to her, covering his mouth with hers in a heated kiss.

Killian had been screwed from that moment.

She was sweet with a touch of cinnamon and he'd never tasted anything so perfect in his entire life. He wasn't a novice by any stretch, but to get to where he was he'd had to work hard, largely ignoring the more carnal pleasures. All of his control seemed to go out the window with this one golden haired siren. She'd seduced him almost effortlessly and good god, did she feel amazing.

They hadn't stopped. For weeks now, she discreetly turned up at his house after giving her flatmate some bullshit excuse about studying at the library. Since he was new, he didn't live that close to the heart of town where most of the staff did. They carried on their liaison with gusto, ignoring the danger. Killian was half afraid he was falling in love with her, but he didn't dare say so. Being with her was intense mentally and physically; he kept waiting for the connection to burn out, but it hadn't yet.

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Now he was ansty waiting for her to arrive. They hadn't been together in over a week; midterms were upon them and Emma had to study. Killian hadn't realized how much he'd come to need her presence until she wasn't there. His hand was a poor substitute for her willing body and his brain missed sparring with her.

What would he do once the semester was over and she inevitably moved on? That was something he preferred not to think about.

"Hi, Doctor Jones."

Killian looked up, and his breath caught in his throat. Good lord, she was trying to kill him. He swallowed as he took in her appearance, trying not to let anything in his stance betray them. Emma stood in front of him dressed in a crisp white shirt, top three buttons undone, and the shadow of her red bra clearly visible. Her plaid skirt was short—too short—leaving her long legs exposed. What the hell was she thinking dressing up like that for class?

Knowing he had to say something before people started staring—or staring more since every male (and a couple of the girls) in the room had their eyes locked on Emma's ass, making jealousy curl in his gut—he cleared his throat. "Hello, Miss Swan."

"I found that article you asked for." She handed him some photocopied pages, their fingers brushing. An electric shock went through him; it was the first time they'd touched since she left his house nine days ago.

Killian cocked his brow at her, wondering what she was up to. "Of course," he said. "I shall delight in reading it."

She grinned at him and headed for her usual seat, ignoring the stares of her fellow students. She pulled her things out of her bag and waited, looking at Killian intently.

He made a show of retrieving his notes, sliding the stapled pages in between. He glanced at the clock, they still had a few minutes before class was scheduled to begin. Killian flipped through the pages, seeking to see if Emma had left him a message. He found it in her untidy scrawl, halfway down a blank page in the middle. Like your present, Professor?

His eyes flickered to hers; she was looking at him mischievously, her pen between her teeth. She really was trying to kill him. He nodded almost imperceptibly, hoping his face wouldn't betray him. Emma got out her phone; a few seconds later his buzzed in his pocket. He got it out and laid it next to his notes on the lectern, out of sight. Discreetly, he unlocked it and read her text. Are you going to unwrap it?

Killian gritted his teeth, tapping out a reply. You're playing a dangerous game, love. Looking away from his phone, he called the class to order and introduced his lecture.

He tried to ignore his phone, he really did. But the temptation was too much when he saw the screen flash out of the corner of his eye. Still talking about the origin's of the Peasant's Revolt, he glanced down. You don't know the half of it. Unbidden, his eyes returned to Emma, who uncrossed and recrossed her legs. It took all of his willpower not to groan.

She wasn't wearing any knickers.

Are you trying to get me fired?

Emma looked at her phone and frowned. Is that what you think?

Killian instantly felt bad. But his cock was aching and stiff, his skin was hot and his foot was tapping lightly on the floor so that he could maintain some semblance of reality and not throw her over the nearby desk right that second. Combined with his recent enforced celibacy, his temper was a bit short.

Sorry, love. Of course not.

Emma smiled at that, sitting up straighter. It didn't help him much, but he appreciated it all the same. Somehow he managed to continue his lecture, thankful for the tall lectern that hid his arousal. Gradually, he calmed down a bit; it didn't seem like anyone was the wiser. Except Emma, who winked at him. He tapped out one final message before sliding the phone into his pocket. My office. After class.

Emma grinned wickedly when she saw it and felt a surge of pride go through him. She could likely have anyone she wanted, but she wanted him.

As soon as class ended, Killian gathered his things and headed out. He wanted to get to his office before Emma did. She paused to talk to one of her friends, giving him a healthy head start. Good girl, he thought as he crossed campus at a brisk walk.

His office was in the basement of one of the older buildings, cramped as befitting his status. Only tenured professors got the nice offices. It was another reminder of why his liaison with Emma was so dangerous, but he couldn't bring himself to care in that moment. After the semester was over, they wouldn't have anything to worry about, he would no longer be her teacher. They just had to remain discreet until then, assuming of course, she still wanted him.

Killian threw his briefcase into one of the only two chairs in the room and leaned against his desk to wait. He didn't have to wait long; he was only there a few minutes when he heard a knock on the door.

"Enter."

The door opened and Emma stepped through it. She closed it behind her and flipped the lock. "You wanted to see me, Doctor Jones?" she asked innocently, looking up at him through her lashes.

"I was told I had a present, Miss Swan," he replied, licking his lips. "Would you know anything about that?"

She looked down over her provocative outfit. "I thought it would be obvious."

"You are bloody well trying to torture me, lass." He took a step toward her, crowding her against the door in the narrow space. "Showing up to class like this."

Emma shrugged. "I missed you." She dropped her bag on the floor and popped another button on her shirt. "But if you don't want..."

Killian growled low in his throat and moved to press her against the door, looming over her, nose in her hair. "Bloody hell, love. I missed you too." Unable to resist any longer, he lowered his head and kissed her, their mouths melding together in a familiar dance. Emma moaned softly, her hands sliding up under his arms and pulling him flush against her. Killian's hands were everywhere at once, as if he were trying to memorize the feel of her body all over again. She was so soft, her curves fitting perfectly against him, skin burning for his touch.

"I was going crazy," Emma panted, when they finally broke for air. "Seeing you and not being able to touch you."

Killian circled her waist, his hands kneading her ass, fabric bunching. "I know, darling. I know." He kissed down the column of her throat, wet sloppy kisses, teeth scraping over her racing pulse, not hard enough to leave a mark, although he desperately wanted to. Emma mewled, clutching at his blazer, which she quickly moved to divest him of.

"Shh," he admonished. "This may be the basement, but I'm not the only one with an office down here."

"Sorry." Emma cradled his face in her hands, bringing his lips back to hers. "I'll be good. I just need you."

Killian smirked, his right hand sliding down under her skirt and up between her legs. He touched her bare mound, fingers gliding over slick folds. "Were you like this all through class?"

Emma nodded, trying to roll her hips into his touch. "I'm always like this in class."

He nipped at her earlobe. "The intellectual stimulation makes you hot?"

"It's only you," Emma said breathlessly. "Just you." She inhaled sharply as he slid two fingers inside her dripping cunt, spreading her legs to give him better access. "Oh god, yes." He captured her lips again, kissing her passionately, one hand in her blonde tresses. His long fingers moved in and out of her rapidly, thumb rubbing her clit; he was thrilled at the way she held him, rubbed her body against him, her movements fluid and free. He couldn't wait to get her home and sprawled out in his bed as he licked every inch of her delectable flesh.

"Come on, love. I want to feel you."

Emma's head fell back against the door with a soft thump, her face contorted in pleasure as the orgasm crashed into her. Her body trembled in his hold as she rode his fingers, lip caught between her teeth to stifle her cry. Her muscles squeezed his fingers tightly, making him wish it were his cock instead. He needed her with a desire that bordered on madness.

"I need you, Emma," Killian whispered along her skin, his nose edging her open shirt, lips kissing the swells of her breasts. Emma groaned, still shaking, her trembling hands fisted in his shirt.

"The desk," she panted. "Fuck me on the desk."

It was Killian's turn to groan. How many times had he imagined taking her on his desk? Just shoving all of his precious work aside and fucking her senseless? Now she was asking him to. He pressed a fiery kiss to her lips before picking her up bodily and depositing her on top of the desk. He kicked his chair back as far as it would go to give them enough room. Then he was kissing her, stepping between her spread legs, hands unbuttoning her shirt. She matched him, stripping his shirt off his body, nearly tearing it in the process.

"God, you are so soft, love," Killian said, hands sliding over her ribs, palming her heavy breasts. Her nipples were hard points jutting through the silk of her bra; she whispered his name when he touched them. He could spend hours just touching her, listening to the needy sounds she made. But his cock was straining in his pants, pressing hard against the zipper.

Emma yanked on his belt; it came free in her hand. It fell to the floor with a clatter, but Killian was too far gone to care. He slid his hands up over Emma's thighs, pushing the too short skirt up around her waist. Emma jerked his pants open with hurried movements; Killian could feel the desperation in her touch, the need she had for him to fill her. Killian groaned when she touched him at last, her small hands running over his length over and over.

"Oh fuck," he breathed, his forehead falling to her shoulder. He watched as she stroked him, hips rocking into her touch, the movement causing his pants to slid down his hips. "Don't stop. Jesus."

"Later," Emma said, bringing his eyes to hers. "I need you inside me, Killian."

She looked utterly wrecked, hair disheveled, lips kiss bruised, eyes glazed over with lust. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. How could he say no? He reached for the nearby drawer and dug for the small square of foil, thankful he'd remembered. Emma helped him roll on the condom, then he brought his hands to her hips and jerked her to the edge of the desk. She let out an almost gleeful yelp, legs sliding up over his hips. Killian spread her wide, wanting to see himself sliding into her. She guided him to her heat, hissing in pleasure as he slowly sheathed himself inside her.

Killian bit back a moan, fighting the urge to take and have, wanting to savor the feeling of her tight wet walls wrapped around him. He would never get over how good she felt, how he seemed to fit perfectly. Killian kissed her deeply, hips moving slowly, until he'd almost completely left her, then sliding in just as slowly. It wasn't enough for either of them, but he wanted this to last as long as it could. They'd gone too long without this, the feeling of being one, their bodies in sync, undulating together until they saw stars.

"More," Emma demanded, tightening her legs around him. "Please."

"Not yet. God, I missed this." He continued to fuck her slowly, hands sliding over her thighs and hips, hissing when her nails dug into his back.

"Killian," she whined, tugging on his hair. "I need you."

Growling, Killian jerked his hips into hers, hard. Emma cried out, the pleasure evident on her gorgeous face. She was loud, too loud, but Killian kept going, skin slapping against skin as he took her with rough deep strokes. "Is this what you wanted?" He didn't know where this side of him came from, but Emma almost always brought it out in him, the nearly feral desire to possess her, to brand her as his. "Is it?"

"Yes!" Emma replied in a strangled whisper. She kept her arms locked around his neck and leaned back, letting him use her body however he saw fit. His release was coiling tighter in his gut; he wanted Emma there with him. He thumbed the hard nub of her clit quickly, relishing Emma's gasp. She dragged his mouth to hers, kissing him to muffle her scream. Walls gripping him, his hips jerked once, twice, then he was there too, awash in pleasure, holding her tightly as he rode out his orgasm.

They collapsed into each other at almost the same instant, harsh rasping pants filling the room. Killian tried to listen, to try and tell if anyone heard them, but it was impossible. He couldn't hear anything except Emma's heart racing and her breathing against his neck. "You alright there, love?" he asked, still breathless. He stroked her clothed back, her shirt damp with sweat.

He could feel her lips curve into a smile. "Yeah. You?"

"Never better."

"So the desk sex is a winner, huh?" she laughed.

"Indeed." Killian raised his head, fingers brushing some hair away from her face. "You know I have a desk at home, right?"

"Are you suggesting we christen that one too?"

"Perhaps."

Emma smiled and placed a gentle kiss to his lips. "I would love to."

Later, after they finally made their way to his bed, Emma handed him a small box.

"What's this?"

"I told you. A present."

"But I thought I already unwrapped my present, darling?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yes, I was the present, we had lots of sweaty sex. But there's also this. Are you gonna open it or what?"

Intrigued, Killian tore at the wrapping. Inside the box was a key. "I'm assuming this goes to something?"

"You know for a smart person you can be really dumb."

"What's it to, love?"

Emma fidgeted a little; Killian could have sworn she was embarrassed. "I got an apartment. By myself. I don't officially move in until after the semester, but since Ruby is going on that exchange thing our old place is too big for just me. I thought maybe...we could spend the night there. You know, occasionally."

Killian blinked. "You're giving me a key to your new place?"

She gave him a droll stare. "That's what I just said."

"Emma...this is...wow."

"Is that a good wow?"

He grinned at her. "Yes, love, it is." He kissed her soundly, happiness squeezing his heart.

"And after this semester, we won't have to hide anymore. I don't know about you, but that part sucks."

"Indeed it does." Still he paused. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Emma plucked at the sheet nervously. "I like you, Killian. A lot. More than I've...well, in a pretty long time. I'd like to see where this goes. Don't you?"

"Emma, I'd love nothing better. Thank you for this." He made a mental note to get her a key for his place first thing in the morning.

(They wound up spending more time at his place than hers. After graduation, she moved in. Killian got tenure. Emma worked as a paralegal until she could finish law school. They were very happy.)