Hook and Emma + Handcuffs

He pulls at the cuffs, the muscles of his arms tensing and relaxing with the movement. He arches an eyebrow and she just smirks, running a finger across his collarbone. He looks so nice – trussed up like this. Chest bare, arms pulled back around the chair, leather pants already unlaced – just waiting for her to climb on, so to speak. He shifts slightly under her perusal and she grins when she notices the bulge in his pants.

"Really, love?" He shifts again with a sharp breath when she lets her robe slide off one shoulder – revealing the very lacey, very transparent, black negligee underneath.

She slides onto his lap, groaning slightly when he thrusts up, making contact with her center. He grins at the sound – dropping his head forward and scraping his teeth along the column of her throat. She grips his shoulders and shifts, smiling when his lips falter, desperate sound lodged in the back of his throat.

She drops her robe and he pants beneath her, pupils dilating as his gaze lingers on her chest. Her fingers thread through his hair and she tugs him forward, moaning when his lips close over her breast through the thin lace. She circles her hips and his arms strain against the cuffs.

"I thought you liked a, oh - " His nose pushes down the fabric and then his tongue is warm and wet on her sensitive skin. He nips lightly. " – a challenge."

-/-

She winces when he dabs gently at the deep cut around her right wrist, hissing through her teeth at the burn. His thumb rubs at the unmarked skin of her palm and she sighs lightly, ignoring the way her grimace pulls at her split lip.

Her week with the witch had been eventful.

"Sorry, love." He leans back as she opens her eyes, reaching for the small bowl of water on the desk behind him. The ship rocks quietly beneath them, the sound of pounding feet on the deck above them the only sound in his quiet quarters.

"Thank you." She whispers and he stills, looking at her with arched eyebrows. "For finding me."

A shadow passes over his face but he blinks it away quickly. He averts his gaze and reaches for her left wrist, giving the mirrored cut the same attention.

"I will always find you." He mutters.

Something in her stomach flips and she snorts, the famed words of her parents courtship echoing around her. His hand stills and he glances up at her, lips twisting into an even deeper frown (no doubt at the way she is losing it completely). She sighs and raises her fingers to his cheek, rubbing at the tired lines around his eyes. He looks exhausted.

"She bound you?" He questions and she watches as something breaks in his eyes.

She nods and tries to smile, but she's pretty sure all she manages is a pained baring of her teeth – judging by the way he winces.

"Cuffs." They both look down at her red and raw wrists. "Now I know how you felt all those times."

He drops the washcloth back into the bowl with a sigh, fingers dancing lightly over the bruise that encompasses half her cheek. His eyes follow. "Something tells me this was a bit different, lass."

She hums in agreement, letting her body tilt forward into his. She's so tired – the pain and the fear and the anxiety of the past week taking its toll. He stiffens when her forehead falls against his shoulder, but then his fingers come up to tangle in her hair.

"We need to dress your wounds." She doesn't respond, instead chooses to breathe him in. She noses against the skin of his neck and he lets out a shuddering sigh, fingers tightening fractionally. "Emma, you're hurt."

"I'm tired." She responds and on cue a wide yawn overcomes her. Her jaw cracks against the motion and the bruise on her face aches. "Please, can we just go to bed?"

He stills again, entire body turning to stone beneath her. His voice is a breathy whisper when he questions -

"We?"

And she knows they've never done this before, slept in the same bed without sex. And she doesn't know what they are, their friends with benefits situation spiraling way out of control months ago. But she does know he just traipsed about the entire realm looking for her, and she knows he rescued her - again.

She knows how she feels about him – deep and sure and terrifying.

So she lets her hand rest of the steady thrum of his heart, fingers curling over the edge of his vest, pulling herself further into him.

"Yes, you idiot. We."

-/-

"Well this certainly is a change of pace."

She glares at him from her side of the cruiser, attempting to cross her arms over her chest but meeting resistance by the hand that's cuffed to his. He grins and chuckles softly, tugging on the cuff so that she has to move closer to him.

"Relax, darling." He presses a kiss against her neck. "It's not like he saw anything."

She pushes away from him, swatting at him with her free hand. "Oh, is that why we are sitting in the back of this police cruiser, under arrest for public indecency? Because my father - "She narrows her eyes as he bites his lip, desperate in his attempt to hold back his grin. "Didn't see anything?"

His shoulders shake with suppressed laughter and Emma huffs, glancing out the window to see David stalking back and forth in a furious lap around the car.

This whole thing is so stupid. She is a grown woman – a grown woman who had been arrested for straddling her pirate boyfriend in a public park by her father.

"Your father isn't the sharpest tool in the shed, is he?" Hook's mouth is suddenly against her ear, his breath warm against the sensitive skin. She shivers despite herself. "Cuffing me to his daughter?" The metal of the cuffs clicks together as his warm fingers dance along her thigh. She lets her head fall back with a sigh – everything she was feeling before her father caught them up against a tree rushing back to her.

"Alone in the back of a dark car." His fingers dance higher and her eyes snap open. She swats his hand away.

"Are you joking right now?"

His grin is smug.