AN: Hey! So law school is awful and so time consuming but here's the newest chapter! I'm trying really hard to not lose my mind, and writing this keeps me sane so yeah, I'm definitely trying to get these out as fast and as perfectly as I can. Thanks again for all your lovely support and I hope you like this flufflyflufffluff chapter filled with fluff and sexy stuff. -Steph

Chapter 7

2007

The Sunday morning light falls faintly on Emma's face, making her stir slowly out of sleep. Killian's arm is lazily draped around her middle, his body pressed against hers in the intimate twin sized dorm bed. It's January now, and barely three months have passed since they started seeing each other.

It's early, probably not even seven yet, and Emma takes a moment to look at Killian. She loves looking at him; she concluded that ages ago, and she particularly likes watching him when he sleeps. Not creepily or anything, she just finds herself looking at him from time to time, a small smile gracing her face as his chest rises up and down methodically, his features calm and content with no worry in the world. She nuzzles her face against his chest, hugging him closer and she thinks about how far they've come along since October. How fast and juvenile they were at first, but how wonderful it has been to fall into this pattern of, dare she say it, love.

They haven't said anything yet, but they know. Somehow along the way from October till now, they fell into this relationship without either of them realizing it. She vividly remembers the carnal and zealous relationship they started out with. It was needy, drunken, and hungry. Like coming home from a night out, almost at the point of passing out but still wired from the events that had happened, still drunk with the emotions felt, and still craving the touch of another. She remembers fooling around almost every night, each time pushing the envelope further. She remembers making out for hours, touching each other for the first time, and her legs shaking uncontrollably the first time he went down on her. She remembers his laugh as he kissed her and told her to relax, that everything was going to be okay.

She can pinpoint falling for him last week during Winter Break, when David and Mary Margaret had gone home. Emma had plans to stay because she had no home to go back to. Killian took her to his, instead, and they were intimate there for the first time. It was quick and hidden, and they were a little drunk from the Christmas punch being served at the party downstairs. He had pressed her up against the wall of his bedroom, hoisted up her skirt, and pushed her underwear to the side. Emma wishes she could say that it was amazing, but the moment was short-lived and kind of fleeting. They haven't tried again since. Emma knows it'll get better, though. Once they're actually on a bed and without fear of any family interruptions. She's positive.

"Swan, why in bloody hell are you awake?" Killian's groggy voice asks above her. She hears his voice reverberate from deep inside his chest.

"I can't sleep, the sun's in my eye." She nuzzles her face into his chest, her voice coming out small and muffled. She wants to tell him that she loves him, but the words can't seem to come out.

She loves him. She can't deny that she does, she can't lie to herself about it anymore. She loves the special grin that he reserves for her. It's wicked, sly, and mischievous. She loves the way his voice says her name so soft, pleading, and hopeful. She loves the way he makes her laugh and the way his eyes light up when she does. She loves how she feels like she can lose herself completely in his company and feel like she's found a place were she belongs. Right now, right here, in his arms she feels more at home than she ever has anywhere else. It terrifies her but excites her at the same time.

He shifts under her, rubbing his eyes and sloppily moving over her. He makes to the window and pulls the curtain shut, climbing into bed after doing so.

"Now go back to sleep, you insane woman." He grumbles, taking her spot in the bed as she scoots back towards the wall.

Every time Emma looks at him, she feels the words threatening to slip out. Should she just say it? Should she wait for him to say it first? God, she's so bad at this. She never felt this for Neal. Well, maybe she did, but never with this intensity. She's terrified. She should just say it.

"Emma, you're staring at me." He tells her, eyes closed and a smile creeping on his face.

She apologizes, not realizing that she had been looking at him all this time. Killian opens his eyes and looks at her quizzically. He notices her furrowed brow and her teeth biting down on her bottom lip.

"Love, are you alright?" he asks, propping his head up with his hand. Emma smiles at him and nods her head.

"I don't believe you." He says simply. Emma rolls her eyes at him and tugs at his shirt collar. She kisses him, a soft, simple kiss.

"I'm fine. I promise." She tells him earnestly as she pulls away. Killian cups her face with his hand, smiling at her with his mouth slightly open, his eyes locked on hers. He stares into her eyes for what seems like forever. There's so much love pouring out from his gaze that Emma just knows.

"I love you." she breathes, looking intently at him.

"I love you." He lets out a shaky breath and smiles at her, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She grins at him, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of her shoulders.

Killian pulls her in for a kiss slowly and tentatively. His hand cradles the back of her neck as he pulls her lower lip between his. Emma feels his hand shake behind her, but it stops when he lays her head down and starts kissing her deeply. Every time he breaks he tells her that he loves her and she tells him the same. She has never felt like this before and she wants the whole world to know how she feels. How she, Emma Swan, once a lost girl, has found her home in the very arms of another.

Killian moves methodically on her body, whatever happened in his room during break was nowhere to be found on this early Sunday morning. Every single nerve in Emma's body was waking up to his touch. She was waking up to his lips sucking lightly on her neck and to his hand ghosting around the thin fabric covering her breasts, fingers nimbly making their way arousing her deep down to her core. She feels his laughter against her collarbone after she moans rather loudly. He kisses his way back up through her neck, her jaw, and back to her mouth. Emma has been grinding against his leg for a while now, trying desperately to achieve some pressure against her center. Killian, sensing this, immediately thrusts up his knee in between her legs, his noticeable erection pressing against her hip. Emma's hand travels inside of his boxers and grabs a hold of him, making Killian audibly groan against her lips. He stills on top of her while she starts moving her hand up and down his length. He throws his head back, a slight smile forming on his parted mouth. Emma loves the friction between them, the electricity they share.

Killian begs her to stop, but she doesn't concede. Instead she sloppily and kind of ungracefully scoots further down the bed and replaces her hand with her mouth instead. A string of curses leaves Killian's lips, his hands digging into her hair guiding her mouth along his length. She keeps at it for a couple of more minutes until he pulls her back up to him and guides her face to his, index finger under her chin till her lips reach his.

Kissing her, he grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it off when their lips break for a split second. Shirt discarded and tossed to the other side of the room, Killian hugs her naked body against his, his face burrowed in her chest. He kisses her collarbone and lightly pulls her down to his side. Emma begs him to be inside her, she wants him, she needs him. Killian concedes and at once he's on top of her, moving inside her, filling her up exactly the way she needed.

Emma feels like she's going to burst from every single pore, pleasure is filling her up like it hadn't in months. He starts slow, moving in and out of her painfully slow and methodical. She wants more, she needs more, and she must have said that out loud because he grins at her and lets out a silent laugh and starts moving faster. He takes her legs and spreads them widely, moving in deeper. Emma feels like she might die from the way he's making her feel, it's almost an out of body experience. She feels her orgasm building inside of her and slips her hand between them, starting to rub her fingers against her clit.

Fuck, he tells her, that's so hot. He tells her that she feels incredible, that she's so tight, and every other string of curses and exclamations he could think of. Emma likes that he's vocal, she loves it actually. Once Killian decides to move at the same time he's lightly biting on her nipple, Emma feels her orgasm building even more, her breaths start getting shallow. He starts sucking on her neck and she's moaning and squirming beneath him. He nods into her neck, coaxing her release, moving harder and deeper into her until she finally screams out and stills underneath him. He comes a few seconds after that, still telling her how incredible it was, kissing her everywhere and anywhere his lips can reach.

2014

Emma can hardly believe how happy she has been in the past couple of months and she knows that the source of her happiness is Killian. She feels like a kid again, selfishly and immeasurably in love.

She's in love with Killian.

She has fallen for him just as fast and hard as she did almost nine years ago. And though she knows that she should feel guilty of sneaking around, guilty of being adulterous, guilty of being in love with a man that's not her husband, at the end of the day she simply doesn't. Emma had turned a blind eye to Walsh's late nights, secretive phone calls, nights spent sleeping in the office, and the constant presence of his campaign manager, Zelena, for months before Killian had come back into her life. Emma was not stupid and she certainly was not born yesterday. Emma knew there had to be a reason for Walsh to lose interest in her just as quickly as he had gained interest when they first met.

For months before, during, and after his reelection campaign, Emma strived to regain contact with her husband. She became desperate, desolate, and even thought about faking a pregnancy to regain the close relationship she had with Walsh once before. She spent her nights waiting up for him, homemade dinners left forgotten and cold on the stove. Emma tried everything, she looked into marriage counseling and she even spent an unspeakable amount of money on every sort of lingerie available, but nothing worked. Even when Walsh was at their apartment, Emma felt lonelier in his presence than whenever he was out. At benefits and parties regarding his work, Emma would spend hours getting ready only to be left unattended at the venue, Walsh nowhere to be found. Even during times where he was found, Walsh would sneak into his office always trying to get extra work done. Funny, Emma always thought, how Zelena would always be with him in the escapades in question.

Tired of him denying her "constant inquisition", (as he called the occasions whenever Emma brought up her discomfort with his constant disinterest), and tired of him denying her requests for a separation or divorce once she attempted to bring them up, Emma turned to her work, crying at the end of every day, drinking copious amounts of cheap chardonnay every night, and dinner at the Charmings' every week. Emma became incredibly depressed, rarely finding a reason to get out of bed every morning. Emma thought about trying to give her love to a pet, but the beta fish she bought died after two weeks. In her defense, she maintains that the fish was sick when she bought it for two dollars. In reality, she fed it every other day.

Around this time last year, Emma felt like dying. She felt like a bird with clipped wings, stuck in a cage and with no means to get out. But ever since Killian has come into her life, she has felt alive and wanted.

She loves him. She loves how she gets to see him almost every day, how he'll find an excuse to drop by her office and how she'll do the same to drop by his. She loves how he'll invite her over his place to cook for her, or attempt to anyways, and end up making love all night long. She loves how they are together, how well they fit.

Tonight there is a gathering at the Charmings', a housewarming party. Mary Margaret and David had moved out of their one bedroom apartment near Columbus Circle and had just finished moving into their new townhouse on Gramercy Park, a house that had been in Mary Margaret's family for generations and that her parents bequeathed her and David as a wedding present. This will be the first outing that Emma and Killian attend after they started fooling around. Naturally, they've kept their romantic endeavor to each other, but it's not stopping tonight from being a nerve-wracking experience.

They've been messaging each other all afternoon, with him telling her all he wishes he could do to her, trying to convince her to skip the party and go over to his place instead so they could make love all night. It had been a hectic couple of weeks at Royal Communications Media, Emma's department was getting ready to launch their marketing campaign for the latest dystopian teen movie that was coming out early next year and Killian's department was busy getting all the creative promotion together for the same movie. They mostly saw each other at work, and overlooking the rare shove into a broom closet inside of their respective offices and those unsuccessful attempts at physical interaction, they hadn't been together in over two weeks. Walsh had been in town as well to take a break from campaigning, and though he was rarely home as usual, Emma felt like she couldn't risk it.

Despite Killian's protests, Emma insisted and succeeded in having him attend the party. She might have bribed him with a promise to stay overnight at his place, something she never does, but that is beside the question. The invitation said to arrive at 7:30, but Emma gets there early to help set up. Killian arrives a little ways later, wearing fitting steel gray pants, matching steel gray jacket, and a crisp periwinkle shirt with a black tie. His hair is damp and swept back, his beard growing in nicely, beyond his usual stubble, and his eyes more piercing than ever. Emma feels her breath catch in her throat the moment he steps in the kitchen and hands her a bottle of scotch he brought as a gift. Their fingers graze each other's as he hands her the bottle, Emma tries to hide the jolt his touch provoked in her. He smiles at her and asks her how she is, as if he didn't know that all Emma wants to do is push him up against a wall and have her way with him.

She really thought he was going to be the troublesome one tonight, but it appears that she's the one who's going to have to keep her longing under control.

"I'm great. How are you? How's work treating you?" She hates that she has to fake idle conversation. She knows how work is treating him, the third installment of the dystopian movie is driving them both up a wall.

"I'm wonderful. Finding innovative creative ways to promote yet another post-apocalyptic movie is quite tiresome." Emma lets out a forced laugh, they've had this conversation before over Chinese takeout back at RCM's board rooms.

They look at each other, trying to hide the smiles that threaten to come out. They're both so bad at this it's a wonder they haven't been caught yet. Emma turns back to take out the crescent rolls out of the oven and place them in a basket.

"How's Walter? Is he here tonight?" Killian asks, a second attempt at conversation.

"You mean Walsh? No, he couldn't make it. He's really sorry though, campaigning has taken up most of his time." She answers, directing the second half of the sentence at Mary Margaret and David.

"Is he not in Manhattan tonight?" Mary Margaret asks concernedly.

"No, he's on his way to Ithaca and upstate, he has some rally's there this week." Emma responds, waving her hand dismissively at the question.

"How come you're not up there with him? Emma if you have to do your senator wife duties, you know we understand." David tells her sincerely. Two years ago Emma had done that very same campaign trail when Walsh was up for reelection.

"Are you kidding? I'm swamped with coming up with marketing plans for two movies, and a television show." She says between laughs, as if that's the most ridiculous thing she's heard all night.

"Come on, mate. You know Swan isn't one to stand in the sidelines to watch her husband kiss babies, give away washing machines to older folks, and secure votes in any way possible." Killian tells David, a little bit of an edge to his voice.

"Exactly." Emma concedes. "That's just not me."

People start to trickle into the party around eight and it begins to get so crowded that Emma finally feels like she's not in anyone's line of attention anymore. Killian and she have barely talked to each other all night. He's been occupied with David and some other men talking about work, sports, and HBO shows. You know, the usual. He steals glances at her whenever she's in the room though. His glances are so natural and so often you'd think it was a reflex that he has no control over. Emma loves every second of it, though. She loves that he can't help but to look at her.

Once she leaves the room and goes out to the empty balcony overlooking Gramercy Park, her phone vibrates against her hand and she sees that she's received a message from him. A wide, silly grin forms on her face when she reads it. He simply told her that he thought she looked absolutely stunning in the red dress she was wearing. He follows up the message with another one that states that he can't wait to take it off later tonight.

"What are you smiling about?" Mary Margaret chimes in questioningly, joining Emma in the balcony.

"It's nothing." Emma smiles at her, tucking her phone back into her pocket. Her dress has pockets, regardless of how good it looks on her; the pockets were definitely the main selling point for her.

"You seem happier, Em. Have you fixed things with Walsh?" Mary Margaret asks hopeful.

"Not at all. I'm highly thinking about divorcing him after his campaign is over." Emma snorts.

"Oh, my god. It's that serious? Why hadn't you told me? Are you going to be okay? You're not even going to try to work it out?" Mary Margaret is genuinely preoccupied for her friend. Mostly because of how nonchalantly Emma throws out the word 'divorce'.

"Mary Margaret, I'm done trying to work things out with him. I don't want to be with a person who makes me feel like I need to beg for attention, a person who makes me feel like whatever I do is just not enough for him to throw me some scrap of love my way. I'm done. I fell out of love with him and I don't plan on staying in this situation anymore." Emma tells her, fighting back tears threatening to fall down. Despite the fact that she's no longer in love with Walsh, the fact that he made her feel like she couldn't make the marriage work out will always stay with her as just another failed attempt at creating a bond with another person.

Mary Margaret squeezes Emma's hand and gives her a reassuring smile.

"It's going to be okay, Emma. I know it will. Just remember that believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a powerful thing. You'll get yours." She finishes by mentioning that she should probably go back to the party and walks back into her new home, leaving Emma in the balcony.

"Swan, what are you doing out here? It's absolutely freezing, you're going to catch your death." Killian says while entering the balcony. He shrugs off his suit jacket and places it around Emma's shoulder.

"I was just thinking." She tells him, hugging the jacket closer to her and murmuring her thanks.

"About what, love?" He asks, a small smile gracing his lips as he unconsciously fixes her long hair around the jacket's collar.

"Just something that Mary Margaret told me." She knows they probably shouldn't be standing as close to each other as they currently are.

"And what might that be?" he asks softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"That believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a powerful thing." Emma responds, bringing up her hand to cover his.

"Quite the optimistic lass, isn't she?"

"Absolutely, but she's right." She nods, burying her face in his hand and kissing the palm of it. They need to stop this, they're too out in the open, and anyone can see them.

"How so?" He's enthralled, positively mesmerized by every word she's saying. There's no one else in the world right now, only Emma.

"I just can't help but feel like everything is starting to look up." She answers, letting go of his hand and going over to lean over the railing.

"What do you mean?" He asks, standing next to her, his back against the railing.

"It's just that, ever since we started to do this," she motions between them, "I can't help but feel like I have a shot at true happiness." Killian raises his eyebrows, a cocky grin directed at her.

"Are you saying I'm your happy ending, Swan?" He's obviously having too much fun with this, the possibility of Emma wanting so much more with him.

"No, I'm just saying that you are the reason I'm getting a happy ending."

"So you're using me?" He teases, turning on the snarky Killian Jones persona. He has inched closer to her once again, all Emma wants to do is to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him.

"Not at all. You're saving me." Emma tells him seriously, trying to not give away her thoughts.

"I thought you said I was a pirate that stole your heart." He says quietly, almost whispering it into her ear.

"You're a hero, too." She answers, deciding to look intently at Gramercy Park so as to not be tempted to any of her thoughts regarding Killian.

They stay silent for a while, Killian's fingers ghosting around hers, never fully touching but enough to know that is his intention. Emma turns away from the view of the park and turns to look at him.

"What would your happy ending be?" She asks him, a playful smile forming at her lips. Killian knits his eyebrows incredulously, gives a hollow chuckle, and rubs the back of his neck with his hand.

"I would think that's quite obvious, love." He tells her finally, his gaze intensely locked on hers. "It's you." Emma's breath hitches in the back of her throat, and her heart feels like it dropped down to the bottom of her stomach. Without thinking, she leans over and, dragging his face towards hers, places her lips on his. He responds by pushing her towards a corner against the wall and kissing her deeply. They kiss for what it seems is an eternity. It's passionate and electric, like they've woken up from a dream state they did not know they were in.

"I love you, Emma Swan. I always have." Killian breathes once they break apart, gliding his nose against hers before kissing her once again.

"I love you too, Killian. I really, really, do." She tells him, grinning into the kiss.

Suddenly, they're forced to break apart by the sound of Mary Margaret dropping a cup of what was presumably filled with hot cocoa and followed by the uncharacteristic shocked exclamation of "holy shit."

Holy shit, indeed.