Killian Jones wasn't one to bare his emotions on his sleeve. Even to Emma, the person he loved most, he kept his feelings hidden. It wasn't that he didn't trust her, or that he thought sharing his emotions with her would make her think of him as any less of a man because it wasn't. He knew that he could share anything with Emma. The pair had truly gone through hell and back, and there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her. No, instead it was because he didn't want to burden her.

Although Emma did her best to hide it from him he could see the toll that being the savior took on her, whether it was the sag of her shoulders or the worry lines on her face. And who was he to add to her burden? So instead, he kept his feelings to himself, buried so deep that no else would ever be able to find them. Especially Emma.

But this night in particular as he collapses onto their shared bed he can feel the weight of his doubts crushing him, pressing against his chest so hard he can barely breathe, and it nearly kills him. Emma had just returned from a girl's night out, crashing into their bedroom in a flurry of bright colors and alcohol as she recounts to him every one of Mary Margaret's drunken antics.

"Could you unzip me?"

"Of course, love." He comes to stand behind Emma, sweeping the hair from her shoulder with his right hand, then grabbing the zipper, but it refuses to budge. Hook grunts in frustration and tries again, but getting a grip on the bloody thing without using his left hand is a futile task. He may have grown used to the constraints of his hook, but not the inaptitude he still felt with it.

"It's okay, I got it." She says. She catches his eye in the mirror, smiling as she undoes the garment with ease. But her smile quickly fades as she takes in his sordid reflection. Her brow furrows, and she turns in his arms, placing her palm on his cheek. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yes, love. I'm fine." Hook smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. And both of them know that Emma is much too clever, and knows him much too well, to fall for that.

"No," She insists, "Something's bothering you. You can tell me." Killian sighs, removing her hand before placing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

"I don't want to worry you—"

"You won't." She says, softly. "If you don't want to talk about it that's okay, but I'm here for you. And I'll still be here whenever you're ready." Killian feels his heart swell at her words, even as a war wages itself in his mind. He can feel the walls he's so carefully erected threatening to collapse. Emma smiles at him then, squeezes his hand as she turns to leave, and as she does he realizes that he wants to let them down. He doesn't want to hide anymore, not from her.

"Swan, wait." His fingers turn white at the knuckles as he clenches his fist, attempting to calm his frazzled nerves. "I'm afraid… I'm afraid I'm not good enough for you."

"What?" She almost laughs, "Killian—"

"David was right." He begins again, his voice raw. "You deserve someone far better than me, Swan. Someone as good as you are because you deserve a prince. Not a pirate."

"Killian…" Emma crosses the room in an instant, wrapping her arms around him, and he hates it. He hates seeing the pain he's inflicted on her face, and he hates that she has to console him like he's some child when he should be the one protecting her. Hook swallows thickly as she takes his face in her hands; his red-rimmed eyes, wet with unshed tears, and her heart breaks as she realizes that he believes everything he said to be true.

"Killian, listen to me. I don't want anyone else. I want you." She says, tearfully. "And I don't care if you're a pirate or a pauper, none of that matters. You are the person that I want to spend the rest of my life with."

"And I'm sure you believe that to be true, love." He says, his voice betraying him in its waver, "But how can I ever be enough for you when I can't even hold you with both hands?" Emma says nothing for a moment, and all Hook can seem to hear is his heartbeat, loud and raucous in his chest. He can't bear to meet her gaze, too afraid to let her see the self-pity that has rooted itself deep inside him, so instead, he looks at the floor.

"Look." She says. He does, meeting his somber gaze in the mirror. He clenches his jaw at his reflection. His face is red, and wet with tears. Hardly a dashing hero.

"Do you want to know what I see?" Emma asks, squeezing his hand. "I see a man who is strong. A man that has had a dark past filled with pain and vengeance, but has overcome all of it. A man who has pushed himself up and out of the darkness and become a hero. A man who puts his family first. A man who is not just a caring husband and a caring lover, but a caring friend."

She rests her head on his shoulder, his hand gripping hers so hard it's painful. "And a man who one day is going to make a great father." She smiles. "I see the man that I love, and the man I couldn't live without because he is half of my heart. Killian, you are half of my heart. And don't you ever think that you don't deserve me, because you deserve everything." She finishes, tears falling from her eyes. His throat burns as she pulls him close to her, and this time as Emma's arms wrap around him he doesn't feel guilty, and he doesn't feel undeserving. He feels at home.

"I love you." He says, his face buried in her hair as he repeats the phrase over and over again. He's not sure how many minutes have passed when she finally pulls apart, but then her lips are on his, soft and yielding, as his fingers curl into her hair. She tastes of alcohol and a faint hint of cinnamon as his tongue invades her mouth, hearing her stifled moan until they're breaking apart for air. Emma holds his gaze as she steps out of her dress, letting the material pool forgotten at their feet before grabbing his hand in hers.

"Come to bed." She says, and Killian would be a mad man indeed to deny her. She places her palms on his chest, pushing him back until his knees hit the mattress, and then her lips are crushing against his once again. His hand trails down her back, resting at the curve of her ass, and she moans into his mouth as he pulls her against him. She runs her hand down his chest feeling the coarse hair against her palm as his hand slips up her rib cage and then to the swell of her breast. He pushes down her bra, rolling his thumb against the taut peak of her nipple and feels her shudder against him before she shakily stills his hand with her own. "Killian," She says, "Let me take care of you tonight."

He wants to protest. Demand that he take care of her first like he always does, like a gentleman, but the piece of him that still wants to fight is gone. So he lets her. She undoes the leather brace holding his hook in place, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time in case he decides to say no, but he won't. He trusts her completely. And as she removes it from his arm and raises his scarred wrist to her lips he doesn't hide the sudden lump he feels in his throat. Killian swallows thickly as she continues to shower him with an affection part of him still believes he doesn't deserve, trailing languid kisses down his chest until she reaches the waistband of his jeans. Her nimble fingers unbutton his pants, and he groans when they finally curl around his cock.

"Fuck, Swan." Then she does something that he doesn't quite expect, and it sends Killian reeling. She reaches up with her right hand, grasping his left arm right at the stump, the closest she can get to holding his hand, before she parts her swollen lips, taking him into her mouth. He gasps her name, a prayer to his lips, as hers part around him, descending on him slowly inch by inch until she's taken him to the hilt. His head falls back against the mattress, a stuttered moan escaping his mouth as his fingers tangle in her hair. She releases him from her mouth with a pop, gripping his shaft with nimble fingers as she strokes him. Emma looks up at him then, her eyes dark with lust.

"What do you want, Killian?"

"You, Swan. Just you." He says raggedly, crying out as she laves her tongue over his tip, and then her thumb, his flushed skin slick with his arousal. Then her lips are on him again, and she's reaching down, and down again until she's cupping his balls in her palm. "God, Emma." He rasps as she runs her thumb down the seam of his scrotum, and she hums, hearing his uneven moan.

Emma's eyes meet his, dark with desire as she hollows out her cheeks, her fingers tightening around him. His hair is clinging to his forehead, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin as he watches his cock disappear into her mouth. Killian's eyes flutter closed as he hits the back of her throat, feeling her swallow roughly around him. "Emma—" Killian warns, but she can see the way his brow has furrowed, and feel the way his fingers have tightened in her hair, his grip almost painful.

He's trembling beneath her fingers, and a strangled cry escapes his lips as he comes— hard. Emma takes it all, stroking him as he rides out his high. For a moment, the only sound in the room is of Killian's breathing as he loosens his fingers from her hair.

"Emma, love." He breathes. "That was—"

"I know." She smiles, and Killian laughs, pulling her up and into his arms. He presses his mouth against hers, tasting his own saltiness and sweat on her lips. Then she pulls back, her gaze tender as she traces his bottom lip with her thumb. "I love you."

"Aye, love." Killian smiles. "I don't doubt it." And for the first time in a while he truly doesn't. "I love you too."