Hook and Emma + Strip Poker
When she gets the very vague, very strange text message from a blocked number – she knows in the back of her mind she should just go home. She knows it can't possibly end well. She's got a brand new bottle of wine and a stack of cheesy sci-fi movies and she is tired.
But her curiosity is piqued, damnit, and she is the Sherriff and it is an anonymous tip – she should atleast go check it out.
She sighs and turns down the side street that leads to The Rabbit Hole, frowning down at the text message in question.
Drunk and disorderly conduct at The Rabbit Hole.
She pushes open the door and is immediately greeted by a complete and total shit show. Her eyes widen as she takes in the scene, mouth gaping open.
Everyone in the bar is crowded around the center table where Ruby, Hook and David are seated – heads bent in concentration. The crowd around them is so dense she can only make out Hook's face, eyebrows drawn together low on his forehead. There is some murmuring and then Ruby lets out a jubilant shriek, standing and pointing a finger at Hook who groans, dropping his head to the table.
Emma pushes herself forward through the crowd and that's when she realizes Ruby is wearing Hook's massive leather jacket, her father is clothed only in his white tank top undershirt and Hook – jesus – is completely bare chested.
"Pants! Pants! Pants!" The crowd around them whoops and hollers and Emma realizes with slowly dawning horror that they are playing strip poker.
Hook stands with all the pomp and circumstance she's come to expect from him, pushing his chair back with dramatic flair. Her eyes drift down his strong chest and – jesus motherfucking christ, she knew this was a bad idea – down the path of dark hair that disappears into his far too-low slung pants. Her eyes linger on the sharp v of his hips as he reaches forward and grabs a bottle off the table, bare arms flexing and relaxing as his fingers close over the neck of the bottle. He throws it back, adam's apple bobbing as he takes several long pulls and then his fingers find the laces of his leathers.
Her heart beats in her chest as he slides his thumb between skin and leather. She licks her lips and tilts her head to the side – wondering if the skin there is damp, if it tastes like rum and salt and the sea –
A particularly loud screech from Ruby pulls her from her fascination and she jumps, shaking her head hard.
"Hey!" She screams it at the top of her lungs just as Hook pulls at one of the laces. The entire bar stills, going eerily silent – every face in the room snapping to her. "What the actual fuck is going on here?"
She studiously avoids looking at Hook, instead directing her focus to David who is still staring at Hook in -to be completely honest – a sickening combination of admiration and curiosity.
Ruby snickers and Emma raises both her eyebrows at her. Ruby gives her a knowing look.
"Research."
Her life. Her fucking life.
-/-
"It seems I underestimated the she-wolf." Hook grumbles. He teeters slightly to the side and she rolls her eyes, grabbing his elbow and righting him as they walk towards the docks. She has to hand it to Ruby – when the woman sets herself to a goal, she certainly follows through.
"No kidding." Hook sighs and leans into her, fingers twirling absentmindedly with her hair. She ignores the goosebumps that flare across her skin and instead shuffles his weight, pushing back slightly. "What made you decide to play strip poker in a crowded bar?"
He snickers in her ear and his breath is warm against the skin of her neck. "Why, Swan? Jealous?"
She bites the inside of her cheek and stops suddenly. Hook lets out a grunt and stumbles slightly, fingers clamping over her to hold himself steady.
"I'm not jealous."
He snorts. "Aye, keep telling yourself that, love." He raises both eyebrows high on his head. "I saw how you looked at me." He leans in close, nose grazing the side of her cheek and her eyelids flutter, breathing him in deep. Her fingers fold against his vest as his lips linger about hers.
If she just pushes up, just the slightest bit -
"I may be drunk as a bloody ox, but I can still read you like a book." He pulls back suddenly and she opens her eyes to find him giving her a wide and silly grin. Her lips twitch in response and he notices, eyes crinkling in amusement.
Stupid pirate.
She kicks him in the knee before he can get too cocky, sending his drunk ass flailing to the ground.
-/-
"Don't you want to stay, darling?"
She looks down at him on his bed, sprawled out face-first in the pillow, hand reaching out to her. He turns over with a dramatic sigh and grins, tongue doing something absolutely salacious.
"I'll take care of you." He practically purrs and her stomach clenches low down, the promise in his words striking true despite his ridiculously inebriated state. He arches a single eyebrow and then – hiccups.
He hiccups.
He looks horrified, heavily ringed fingers clamping over his mouth. She rolls her eyes and reaches for the blanket at the edge of his bed, tossing it over him.
"Go to sleep, Hook."
-/-
She can't get the image of him out of her head – the stretch and pull of his muscles, the way his hair dropped down low over his forehead, the light pattern of scars that flashed across his chest as he reached for the bottle.
Not letting herself overthink it, she climbs up the gangplank of the ship, bottle of rum tucked safely under her arm. She knocks once at the trapdoor the leads down into his quarters before swinging it open and carefully letting herself down. She feels warm fingers on her waist as he assists her, palm resting against the small of her back. She gives him a once-over, pleased to see that he's recovered from what she's sure was a bitch of a hangover.
He looks at the bottle in her hand curiously, both eyebrows arching up when she tosses him a pack of cards.
"Poker?"
-/-
She taps her fingers against her lips and he shifts in his seat, hand scratching roughly at the back of his head. It makes his hair stand up in a multitude of different directions and she grins.
"Are we playing with Ruby's rules?"
He blinks several times in quick succession and it's cute how hard he's trying to keep his eyes on her face. There are spots of color high on his cheek bones and this is definitely not what she expected from captain-freaking-innuendo.
"Aye, lass." He swallows hard. "You can take your garment back."
He picks up the shirt she lost in the first round with his hook and holds it out to her over the table, focusing on a spot just over her shoulder. She shakes her head and his eyes jump back to her – arm still outstretched.
"Ruby's rules say you can either take a piece of clothing back, or choose something to come off someone else. Correct?"
He blinks at her slowly and then suddenly, his whole demeanor changes. He drops his arm back to the table and understanding crosses his features – a slow and seductive smile working its way over his lips. She feels heat pool low in her stomach as he finally seems to get it, leaning back casually in his seat.
His eyes drift slowly from her eyes to her neck to her barely covered breasts. The lace is see-through and leaves little to the imagination (it's why she picked it for god's sake) and he makes an appreciative sound low in his throat as his gaze sweeps over her. She can feel her blush work its way from her cheekbones down her neck and he runs his tongue along his teeth.
"You know, love." His eyes slide languorously back up to hers. She shifts in her seat, clenching her thighs together when she sees how big his pupils are. "I always did wonder just how far that blush of yours spread to."
His eyes look pointedly down at her breasts and she smirks, feeling her bravado rise in the face of his challenge.
"Lose the shirt, pirate."
Hand and hook go to the hem of his shirt and he smirks. "As the lady commands."
-/-
She folds on a royal flush, laying her cards down face up. He stares at the cards with intensity for a few moments, blinking up to lock gazes with her – tongue peeking out and sliding along his lips. As she works her jeans slowly down her hips, warm fingers slide along her spine – his breath sudden and hot in her ear.
They don't make it to another round.
-/-
Ruby smirks as she serves them both pancakes the next morning, looking pointedly at the edge of a bruise peeking out of Emma's turtleneck.
She snickers. "You're welcome."