happy cs au week, guys! i didn't think i'd have this one done, but i do so yay! and for day three which is favourite tropes and if you talk to me at all on tumblr, you know i adore the neighbours!au / enemies to lovers!au, and i suppose this fic is a mix of the two. also, this fic is nearly over know, maybe two or three more chapters, we'll see how long it takes me to finish the story.

also, think of this chapter as a part two to chapter four (the previous one), as it continues to show what happened during emma's drunk incident.

sorry, that it's taken so long to update, so i hope you all like this one. feel free to come stop by my tumblr for the cs au week; captnklaroline.

- shauna! xo

Emma's enjoying how flustered he is, how his cheeks and the tops of his ears turn a bright red, it makes her smile, as she hums underneath her breath. It's a far cry from the arrogant bastard who flirts with her on a daily basis.

(Not that it's not appreciated, though, because boy does she appreciate him, and wow, admitting her attraction to Killian Jones? She must be drunk.)

Her hand travels down to his thigh, almost unnoticed by her. But apparently not by Killian, when he freezes slightly before relaxing underneath her touch. Her fingers tap against his clothed thigh, her fingernails scratching against him slightly, and smirking at the way the muscles in his thigh seem to clench.

(Seems she wasn't the only one unaffected by their close proximity.)

"Why did you come here?" he asks.

And it's that what gets her thinking, because why did she come here? Her apartment isn't too far away, that she couldn't make it. Even if she does admit that she's a teeny bit tipsy.

She doesn't think he minds, however. At least not with the way he's smiling up at her, that genuine flick of his lips, that she really wants to kiss, as he reaches up with his left arm to scratch that damn spot behind his ear that she finds all sorts of adorable.

(She really wants to kiss that spot, too.)

Her fingers freeze on the patterns she was drawing on his thigh, and her lips press together, as she wracks her alcohol-induced brain for some sort of excuse, that doesn't come close to admitting that she has the hots for him, because she totally does.

"Yours is closer than mine," she finally tells him, which isn't a lie, and she twists to look at him. "Mine seems forever away."

He smiles down at her knowingly, and she already knows her cheeks are red.

Emma's eyes turn back to the television screen, because she loves this program, no matter how hot he was. She registers when his arm stretches over the sofa at the back of her head, and she gulps loudly, praying that he can't hear it. God, she had it bad.

God, she had it bad.

She feels his eyes on her as she glares at the television screen, though, at this point, she honestly has no idea what is happening. Her eyes, however, suddenly feel heavy, and her eyelids begin to droop slightly. She shakes her head, a light sigh on her lips, because she doesn't want to let this opportunity pass her by, not for sleep, and not when she finally feels the courage to do what she's been wanting to do for a while.

(Maybe it was a little to do with the alcohol running through her veins.)

Emma suddenly turns towards him, her eyes wide and bright as they stare up at him, and she feels the sofa bounce beneath her, at the sudden movement, and it is leather, so the sound of creaking also follows.

Killian looks slightly shocked but he shakes it off, and raises an expectant eyebrow.

"Yes, love?" he asks, in that delicious accent of his that makes her want to jump him.

She licks her bottom lip and she smirks when his eyes flicker to the movement, and then his eyes return to hers carefully before she catches the movement of his throat as he gulps.

Her smirk widens.

Got you.

And so, she takes a chance.

"That's not the only reason," she tells him, her tone light, and serious, but all so purposefully seductive.

She had to give him some indication as to what she wanted, didn't she?

His eyebrows furrow, as those too blue eyes of his stared up at her in confusion.

(And screw it, she wants to kiss that spot too.)

"Then, what is?" he asks, and his tone is so adorably confused, that she knows what she has to do.

So instead of answering him, she surges forward and locks her lips with his in a searing kiss, blocking him from speaking once again.

(Well, she did like to render him speechless.)

She feels him freeze, as she moves forward, until she's straddling him, and her hands can travel up to his neck, to fist into those dark locks of his at the nape of his neck. It barely takes a beat, until she feels him responding, surging forward against her.

She sighs against him, a "Finally", muttered out against him.

He responds in kind, his lips frantic against hers, but all so soft, as they move against hers.

His right arm sneaks out, until he can wrap it around her waist, and his warm hand travels up her clothed back, and she grumbles against his lips, wanting more. So, she moves against his lap, grinding against his erection (and honestly, she's quite impressed at how quick he's ready to go), and her tongue swipes out against his lower lip, demanding entrance.

However, she isn't granted it, and Emma is surprised, more than surprised, when Killian is detaching his lips from hers.

His eyes are wide as he stares up at her, and he looks so innocent.

"Wha-what are you doing?" He clears his throat.

Emma raises an eyebrow.

"I thought that was much obvious," she tells him, dryly.

Killian is already shaking his head, before she's even finished, and before she knows it, he's deposited her back on the leather sofa and away from his lap.

"You shouldn't have done that," he mutters.

She watches him, with rapt interest, as he stands up, his hands smoothing down his bottoms, at the tops of his thighs, and she's reminded of where her hands were not five minutes previous.

She raises an eyebrow, once more?

"And why not?"

She pauses for a minute.

"I wanted to," another pause as her eyes drift down his form with a barely restrained smirk, when she catches sight of him, still reading to go, in his bottoms. "And I'm fairly certain you do too."

He shakes his head.

"Irrelevant," he mutters under his breath.

And Emma's suddenly very confused.

"I would think that's very relevant," she sniffs.

She sits up properly on the sofa, her right leg crossing over her left, as she crosses her arms over her chest, and she suddenly feels like an idiot because no means no, anybody knows that. Maybe, she's too late. Maybe, he's found someone. Or maybe he just isn't interested anymore.

Because he never failed to indicate that he was very interested before.

She doesn't even realise she's speaking out loud, but by the look on Killian's face, she must be, because he's suddenly shaking hs head, very frantically.

"No no no no," he starts, quickly. "No, that's not-" he sighs, breaking off. "Bollocks," he mutters, "I'm making a right mess of this."

She raises an eyebrow, as he looks down at her, and her eyes are starting to droop once more.

God, she was exhausted. What was the time? And god, she sounded old.

"You're drunk," he tells her bluntly. "And very tired, if the look of you is any indication."

"Just what every girl wants to here," she mutters under her breath, though she's slightly relieved, if he's saying what she thinks he is, because it isn't that he doesn't want her.

He just shoots her a look.

"Swan..."

She snorts, shaking her head.

"Haven't you ever had drunk sex before, Jones? It's nothing to get your panties all twizzled."

His eyes seem to darken at that.

"Not with you," he says firmly. "I don't want it be like that with you."

Now, she's the one that's left speechless, and she really doesn't know what to say.

"Killian-"

He's already shaking his head, shoulders turning into a shrug, and then he steps forward towards her.

"Come on, Swan," he sighs. "You're exhausted. Let's get you into bed."

She raises an eyebrow at that, because her bed is across the hall, as he steps forward and bends down to her to pick her up in her arms, and she yelps when he lifts her up.

"I can carry myself home," she grumbles.

He grins, a lighthearted thing.

"No worries, love," he tells her, a light chuckle on his lips. "I've carried rum barrels heavier than you."

She slaps him on the chest at that remark, though it lacks heat, and her eyes flutter, eyebrows pushing together, as he walks them towards his room, and the expression doesn't falter when he suddenly deposits her on his bed.

"I can go home," she says slowly, her eyes staring down at the black throw.

He's got a peaceful smile on his lips when she looks up.

"Nonsense," he admonishes, shaking his head. "I'm a gentleman," he tells her. "You sleep here, I'll take the sofa," he insists, and she suddenly feels a pang of guilt, because she's totally inconveniencing him here, and taking over his room.

She shakes her head, and reaches out to him, then gulps when her fingers lock around his.

"You don't need to do that," she says, and she's already getting up, but she's unsteady, seemingly forgotten that she'd consumed her fair share of shots tonight, leaving her unstable.

"Hey, hey," Killian rushes to her side, once more, and then he sits her back down.

"It's fine," he tells her once he's satisfied that she's not going to fall. "I don't mind. Truly."

She finally agrees.

"Fine," she tells him, a smile plucking at her lips, and she catches the genuine smile he throws her way, and it raises goosebumps all along her skin, creating butterflies in her stomach, that she should be way too old for.

She watches as he steps around his room, rooting through his draws for something, and then catching the excellent smile he lets out when he finds it.

"Here," he says, as he folds an item of clothing onto the bed.

She smiles softly up at him.

"Thanks," she murmurs.

He nods, and she watches him bow slightly, and seriously, who the hell was this guy?

"I'll take my leave," he tells her, a soft smile lighting up his face. "Goodnight, Swan."

He's barely taken two steps away from her when she suddenly sits up, and stumbles out of the bed, clapsing onto his wrist.

"Wait."

He does.

She smiles softly.

"Stay."

"What?" his eyes are wide.

"Stay," she repeats, and gestures behind her. "It's a big bed, I'm sure we can share."

She expects both an innuendo, and a refusaal, and she's honestly not sure which she'd get, so she's surprised when he merely agrees, nodding, as he sits on the edge of the bed, before he nods in the opposite direction.

"Bathroom's through there," he tells her, "if you'd like to get changed into something much more comfortable."

She smiles at him, thanking him, before she stumbles towards the bathroom, and she (thankfully) doesn't fall on her face, though she does stumble a few times.

It takes her a few minutes, but when she comes back out, Killian is shirtless, laying back against the pillows at the right side of the bed, that soft, genuine smile still on his lips. Though, his lips soon press together when he catches her appearance.

She shuts the door behind her, and shrugs at his inquisitive stare.

"The bottoms were too big," she tells him, as she comes back towards the bed, landing back on it with a heavy thud, and she's suddenly feeling the after effects of everything she'd consumed in the night, a feeling of dizzyness overtaking her, as she lands back towards the pillows.

She also feels very sleepy.

She vaguely hears Killian mutter something under his breath as he turns towards her, that sounds oddly like, "You're trying to kill me, woman."

She merely smirks as she turns towards him, but he speaks before she can.

"Goodnight, Swan," he tells her, for the second time that night.

She smiles in response, a muttered, "Night", to him.

But she can't leave it there.

"I'm going to kiss you in the morning," she tells him, almost casually. "And you can't pull away. Or I just might have to kill you."

"I look forward to it," he smirks, followed by a light chuckle.

"Good."

"Good," he repeats back to her and then, "Goodnight, love."

He shifts closer towards the centre of the bed, and smiles, her eyes already drifting close as she curls up on his chest, her blonde curls flying everywhere, and she swear she feels him press a kiss to her hair, but she can't be sure because she's asleep in the next second.

She's also sure he says something else, but she can't be sure what.

(It was nice to fall asleep in his arms, she could almost get use to it.)

love it? hate it?

what was your favourite part? do you have any constructive critism so i can improve?

let me know in a review!