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let-it-raines · 5 years

Note

Hi! Can I request a secret relationship prompt where Emma and Killian have kept their relationship from David? Angst with a happy ending please 😘

So @initiala left tags on this prompt story of mine about Emma leaving a hickey on Killian and him getting written up by his officers for it, and I loved it so much that I thought I should include it in a story. It just happened to be in this one. So thanks for that, lovely! I hope you guys enjoy this one! I’m rather fond of it💙

-/-

“There’s not a day will go by I won’t think of you,” he’d said before he boarded a bus with a bright smile on his face, one that she loves and one that she knows was to reassure her for all of the time that he’d be gone.

-/-

Her leg shakes as she sits on the ground of Logan International, her skin practically vibrating to the point where she’s no longer chilled from the outside temperature. It’s December and Boston is covered in snow flurries and deep winds that have her wearing far more than her usual light sweater and leather jacket. She pretty much looks like a snowman or burrito at all times, and that’s fine until she’s trying to do a honey trap and has to wear a short dress. Not surprisingly, creepy men are not attracted to the puffer jacket.

Being a bail bondsperson is weird, but it’s not like she has a lot of job options. It pays well, it can be interesting, and she’s damn good at it. That’s all that really matters.

Last night she’d been out late on a stakeout trying to find this guy who skipped out on his court date, and even though her tip said he’d be at O’Grady’s, he wasn’t. She swears she’s never going to find him, which kind of sucks since the payoff would be fantastic, especially since she has a few last-minute Christmas gifts to buy. But it’s fine. She’ll find him eventually, and really the only inconvenience that Matthew Tooker has caused her is the fact that she hasn’t slept in a solid twenty-two hours.

And she’s really hyped up on coffee.

Like, a lot of coffee.

Which is usually fine, but she’s anxious, could throw up right here anxious, and instead of being a normal human being and showing up right when the flight is landing, she showed up a solid two hours ahead of time like she’s the one boarding a flight or something.

It’s been a long two hours.

Really, it’s been the longest thirteen months of her life, but it’s almost over. The entire thing is almost over, and that’s all that matters. She made it. They made it. Nothing else matters.

Except maybe the fact that she’s about to vibrate out of her skin for how anxious she is.

Anxious. Excited. Same thing.

Her fingers are constantly sliding across her phone, checking to see if a message has popped up, and when one doesn’t, she checks the flight’s tracker to see that its landed. But she knew that. His plane has been on the ground for at least thirty minutes now, and she has no idea where he is.

She’s not going to freak out. She’s simply not.

She’s going to wait for Killian to show up, kiss the holy hell out of him, and then absolutely never let him go until she has to. Or until she falls asleep. She’s really ready to fall asleep. He probably is too. The poor man is most likely exhausted.

(And she knows that her never letting him go doesn’t mean he’ll never have to leave again, but she’s hopeful enough to wish for that.)

She looks down to check her phone again, the messages still empty except for a text from David about where she is and one from Ruby talking about her date last night, and disappointment settles in her stomach even as a flux of new people come through the baggage claim gates.

Please be there, please be there, please be there.

Rising from her spot on the ground, she brushes her leggings off and stuffs her phone in her waistband before picking up her jacket and looping it over her forearm. It’s kind of a mess with all of the harried people looking for their bags or trying to get ahold of their children, so her moving through it isn’t helping the madness at all. But she doesn’t care. No part of her cares because her boyfriend is coming home, and she needs to feel the strength of his arms and the warmth of his skin around her. It’s been far too long, and she’s scared that she’s forgotten just how comforting his embrace can be and just how much she loves the smell of him.

How could she forget such a wonderful thing?

Her eyes scan the room looking for the dark hair that’s going to be a little shorter than what she’s used to and the skin that’s going to be a bit more tan. She should not have watched those videos of soldiers reuniting with their families because now that’s all she can think about as her heart beats so quickly that it may very well have moved from her chest to her stomach to her freaking right calf, which is funny because she seems to only hear it – feel it– beating between her ears like a drum that’s sound has been amplified.

“Swan!”

Her head whips so quickly before she even realizes which direction his voice was coming from. She heard him, heard the deep vibration of her last name rolling off of his tongue, but she can’t find him.

“Emma,” Kilian repeats.

She turns to her right, and suddenly he’s there.

He’s here.

She takes exactly six steps forward until her arms are wrapping around his neck, his arms wrapping around her back, and the warmth and strength that she remembered is exactly the same. Her memories don’t compare to the reality, though, and she buries her nose in his neck, breathing him in. He mostly smells like that awful stale scent of an airplane, but she can detect the smallest whiff of his cologne, the one she sent to him a few months ago along with a bottle of her perfume, and she nearly chokes on her sob at the smell of it.

“Did you miss me?” Killian jokes while his hand runs up and down the length of her back, every inch of her skin turning into gooseflesh that has her hair on edge and her stomach doing that weird flippy thing again.

“You know I did. That’s a mean question,” she huffs against his skin. Her hand slaps the back of his neck before she threads her fingers through his hair as much as she can. She absolutely cannot wait until he gets to grow it back out.

She has a bit of an obsession with his hair.

It’s wonderful. And so damn soft.

“I missed you, love,” he whispers into her ear, squeezing her a little bit tighter before pulling back and running his hands up her body, every touch just as electric as earlier, before he’s cupping her cheeks, rough fingers holding onto her while soft, affectionate blue eyes stare down at her. They’re so much better in person than in a video. “You look tired.”

“That’s a really sucky thing to say to me right now.”

“I’m simply trying to check my chances of getting lucky later.”

“Oh my God,” she laughs, slamming her lips forward until Killian’s are pressing against hers. She thought that his embrace was just the same, that it was warm and welcoming and felt like home, but it doesn’t compare to this. It doesn’t compare to the softness of his lips and his clean-shaven skin or the way that his hands inch back to settle themselves in her hair so that he can guide her head, tilting it to the side while his tongue runs across the seam of her lips and sends pleasure all the way down her spine.

This is like coming home.

He’s home.

No part of her cares that they’re in a very public place right now, so she holds on a little more tightly, kisses him a little more deeply, and revels in the feeling of every inch of her body pressed up against his until there’s an obnoxious wolf whistle in the background that has them breaking apart for air, foreheads resting against each other while Killian keeps lightly brushing his lips over hers as she laughs and groans all at once.

“You want to go home, sailor?”

“You have absolutely no idea much I want that.”

The drive to her apartment is possibly the longest car ride of her entire life. Because of course there’s construction and a road closure and traffic backed up for at least a mile. And she’s an awful human being for griping and complaining about traffic being backed up because there’s probably an accident and all she really wants is to get back to her apartment to fuck her boyfriend.

Priorities and all.

But they do get to her apartment, an hour after leaving the airport, and Killian crowds her against the door before she can even get the key out to unlock it. His body is warm even through her jacket, and she gulps as his hands snake up underneath it to play with the skin above her waistband while his lips brush against the shell of her ear, his warm breath hitting against her cool skin. She already feels like she’s on fire, and it’s got to be below freezing outside.

Leaning back into him, she lets his fingers tap against her stomach while his lips keep moving against her neck, lulling her into such a state of hazy arousal that she forgets that they’re outside until he speaks. He’s really good at kissing her neck. Damn.

“Darling, as much as I’d like to take you against this door, I do believe it’s highly illegal if we’re in your hallway instead of your apartment.”

“I can’t reach my key with you like this.”

Killian grunts in response before he backs up, the loss of heat immediate even though he doesn’t let go of his hands on her hips as he still digs his fingers into her hip bones. She can barely think when he’s touching her like this. It’s been so damn long, and a part of her was seriously considering letting the two of them get arrested for public indecency if it meant that she got to be with him again. But she’s not going to do that, so with shaky hands, she finally gets her key out of her purse and unlocks the door, pushing it open as she walks inside with Killian right behind her.

He doesn’t give her a chance to do or say anything before he’s caging her in against the inside of the door, murmuring a pretty loud and desperate “finally” as his one hand grabs onto her ass and the other her face while his lips devour hers once more. She really can’t think when he’s kissing her like this, all hunger and lost patience and heat, so she tries not to as her hands run the length of his arms over and over again while his tongue plunges into her mouth and makes her gasp with pleasure. Eventually her hands find underneath his shirt, pushing up beneath the material to feel muscles and soft curled hair that she knew she missed but not quite so badly until it was between her fingers again.

“Take off your shirt,” she mumbles as her head tilts back against the doorframe while Killian works at her collarbone, running his tongue against the dip while she aches for his beard to grow back.

“So demanding.”

“The faster you take of your shirt the faster we can get down to business.”

“Technically, love, I believe you should want me to take off my pants then.”

“That – ah – ” He nips at her skin, and she practically melts right there against her door. “ – too. That too. Take it all off.”

“As you wish.”

It takes far longer for them to get to her bedroom than it ever should, but Killian seems to be determined to take his time to work at every inch of her skin that’s exposed as they shed their clothes. There’s a particular delay when she takes her bra off, and he spends a solid ten minutes talking and, well, not talking about how much he’s missed her breasts. But they do eventually get to the bedroom, all of their clothes littering the apartment, and she gets to take the time to show him just how much she’s missed every inch of his skin, her lips tracing a path down his chest and on his hip so her tongue can mark the ink that’s tattooed there. And when she finally wraps her lips around his length, the groan that passes through Killian’s lips is nearly enough to make her fall apart right then and there.

She never wants him to leave again.

“God, Emma, fuck, love, I – ”

She looks up at him from between his legs and hums around him at the same time that she winks, and the way his lips part in bliss nearly kills her. He’s so beautiful, and if she’s reducing him to sputtered words, he must be close.

No part of her is ready for this to be over. Not yet.

Releasing him, she presses her lips against his shaking inner thighs as he curses at her. She giggles in response, climbing up his body and resting her core against his length so that they can both get a little friction as she works the beginnings of a mark into his neck like she’s a teenager.

It’s not her fault, really. She simply can’t help herself.

“You’re driving me mad, woman,” Killian grunts as he grabs a handful of her ass, squeezing it then gently slapping the skin there. “You bring me to the edge only to pull back.”

“Didn’t want you to have all of the fun without me.”

“You looked like you were having fun.”

She rolls her eyes before pushing up to kiss the corner of his lips as he squeezes her ass again, the hair on the back of her neck rising with that. “I love you, Lieutenant Jones.”

“I love when you use my ranking like that.”

Emma laughs as she presses her nose into his cheek, rolling her hips at the same time so that Killian’s tip brushes her folds and fills her with just enough warmth to be a tease.

“And I love you,” he promises as his hands travel up the length of her body, holding onto her hips and she sits down on his lap, rising on her knees and slowly guiding Killian into her until he’s fully enveloped within her.

Every part of her knows that it was this good before, but it’s hard to think of any of that when she can feel the warm stretch of having him inside of her once more. Her eyes slam shut as she rocks a bit, testing the limits of their time apart while Killian’s grip on her waist tightens enough to leave red marks. This is absolutely everything she’s wanted, dreamed about, and she wouldn’t change a damn thing.

“Oh fuck that’s good,” she gasps as she rocks a little more, her fingers curling into his chest hair while Killian looks at her with hooded eyes, the blue a little darker than usual. He seems to be watching where they’re joined, the in and out of his cock with her body, and she smiles to herself as heat continues to curl between her legs.

She’ll never get over how Killian is with her at any time, but how he is when they’re being intimate reaches a whole new level of closeness. And maybe it’s kind of hot for him to run his tongue over his bottom lip while he watches her sink down on him.

Her rocks are slow until she needs something different, leaning forward and propping herself further onto her knees as she moves a little more quickly, letting Killian use his hips to trust up into her as much as he can. Her lips find his neck again, working at that same spot, and she gets lost in it all until Killian’s hand finds where they’re joined and begins rubbing hard circles against the slick flesh. She forgot how close he was to falling over the edge earlier, and from the way he’s working her and making the coil in her stomach tighten and her breaths shorten as sweat rolls down her back, she knows that he’s nearly there again.

She moves her lips from his neck to his own soft lips, capturing his breath and his words with her mouth so that they can be connected in every way possible. His hand not driving her into madness settles at her hip, holding her steady all the while she bunches her hands into the sheets above Killian’s head, holding on so tightly that she could probably rip the material. But then her skin is tingling, pleasure and pain all mixed into one, and she has to stop moving her lips against Killian’s as she falls, her legs no longer able to keep moving.

In her hazy state she can feel Killian continuing to keep pumping inside of her, and it’s not long until she feels the warmth of him falling too, everything dulling around her until she focuses on the steady beat of his heart underneath her ear that she’s been waiting on hearing for an entire year. There are a lot of things you can share over letters and facetime, but there’s nothing quite like being able to feel and hear Killian’s heartbeat under the warmth of his chest.

It’s an entirely different ballgame than simply seeing him smile over a blurry screen.

She’ll take those blurry smiles every day of the week too.

She’ll take it all.

But she doesn’t have to because he’s here. She can see the real, clear ones, the smiles where he’s looking at her like she was the one to hang the stars in the sky that guide him home at night.

After a few minutes of sitting in silence with Killian rubbing his hand up and down her back and intermittently brushing his lips against her temple, Killian gently rolls her over onto her back before he rises from the bed. She whistles at the view of his ass, and she can tell that he gives her an extra bit of swagger as he makes his way to the bathroom, coming back with a wet washcloth and wiping down her thighs while she simply lays there and stares up at him with what she’s sure is a dopey smile on her face.

No part of her cares.

(She’s also got to get up to go to the bathroom but whatever.)

Killian tosses the cloth in her hamper before crawling back in bed with her, peppering kisses on her ankle and up her leg until he’s resting his head on her stomach, cheek squished into her skin. She smiles down at him while her hand reaches to brush through his hair, moving the sweaty strands back. He must have not had his hair shaved recently with how much there is despite there being less than usual.

She loves him a ridiculous amount. The eye crinkles kill her.

“The view of your breasts is really rather fantastic from down here.”

“It’s better from up here.”

He hums at the same time that he nudges his nose against the underside of her boob, seemingly content to keep teasing her. “Have I told you that I love you yet today?”

“Mhm.”

“Or that I’ve missed you?”

“You’ve said that too.”

“Or that not a day went by where I didn’t think of you.”

“Oh you didn’t say that one.”

“Not a day went by where I didn’t think of you.”

She hums as the sweat begins to dry on her forehead and a chill runs over her body from the ceiling fan running at full speed above them. “I’d say the same thing, but there was this one day where I slept the whole time so I’m not sure quite what happened there.”

“You were probably dreaming of me.”

“Sure. Let’s go with that,” she laughs while her fingers leave his hair and trail down the side of his neck where the beginnings of a bruise are forming. “I think I may have teased your skin a bit too much here.”

Killian’s eyes close as he chuckles, his chest rumbling with laughter, and she watches as his lips form into a bright smile that show her all of his white teeth while the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Swan, you’ve got this nasty habit of giving me hickeys despite the fact that we’re two grown adults.”

“I do not do that.” He raises a brow and doesn’t say anything else. “What?”

“Emma, my love, right before I was deployed, we had several rather frantic lovemaking sessions, and I swear to you that I was covered in hickeys all across my skin.”

She shrugs. “Just giving you a reminder of me to hold onto.”

He laughs again as his hand fumbles around the mattress until he finds her free one, interlocking their fingers and bringing her knuckles to his mouth, kissing each one individually. “And while I appreciate that, I had to try every bloody method in the book to get rid of them before we deployed. But I couldn’t, and I got written up for a solid three days in a row. Will and Robin are still talking about it.”

“Wait. What?”

“Swan, I’m not supposed to have damn hickeys. At least visible ones. It’s against uniform code, which is fine. I’m mostly arsed about it because my mates took the piss out of me for it. Do you know how many jokes can be made about hickeys?”

“Not a clue.”

“A hell of a lot.”

Emma hums, her cheeks heating with flush, and runs her hand down from his hair to his neck so that her fingers can press against the red mark that’s forming. “So Will and Robin were assholes over it then?”

“Yep, but between you and me I believe it’s because they’re jealous they don’t have girlfriends like you to give them rather teenager-ish love bites.”

“Obviously. I am quite a catch.”

“I tend to think so.” He brings their knuckles to his lips to kiss again, and she sighs in contentment over this. She still can’t believe that he’s here, that he’s home, and she never wants to let go. She still kind of thinks that this is all a dream, but she knows that it’s real. “Did you happen to go buy groceries before I got here, or do we need to order take out?”

“What do you think?”

“I’ll call Mr. Wong’s.”

While Killian orders their food, she gets up to go to the bathroom and wash her face, spending some time to work through the mess that is her hair. She can feel the chill from outside finally beginning to seep through the walls, but instead of completely getting dressed, she simply puts on a new pair of underwear and one of her oversized sweaters that falls to her upper thighs. Her apartment isn’t big, just the bedroom and bathroom cornered off to the end while everything else fills the room in the entryway, and since she doesn’t really feel like moving too far, she settles back down in bed, clicking on the remote and scrolling through Netflix to try to find something for she and Killian to watch while they eat. She promised not to watch approximately ten different shows without him, and she spectacularly failed at that promise.

It’s fine. It’s all fine.

“Lunch is ordered, love,” Killian says as he shuffles through his bag until he finds a pair of plaid pajama pants that hang low on his hips, showing off the muscles that are a little more defined than usual, not that she’s complaining. “Should be here in about thirty minutes. They’re backed up apparently.”

“That’s fine. I need to – ” Her phone starts ringing on the bedside table and she reaches over to grab it. “It’s David,” she tells Killian before answering. “Hey.”

“Hey,” David greets, his voice far too loud. How is he so chipper right now? How is he so chipper all of the time? “Are you working today?”

“Um, just doing research. Why?”

“Because Killian is coming home tonight, and I thought we’d all take him out to dinner.”

Killian’s brow raises at the sound of his name, and she shrugs her shoulders as she keeps listening to David talk about dinner plans. Killian settles down on the bed, and just as she thinks he’s about to lean closer so that he can hear more of her conversation, he grabs her ankle and begins pressing slow kisses against her skin as he works his way up the inside of her leg. It sends vibrations throughout her entire body, especially because his eyes never leave hers (the bastard), and she knows that he’s doing this on purpose. She really knows when he starts working at her inner thigh while his fingers brush over her center, and she has to bite down on her bottom lip so hard that she can taste iron filling her mouth.

“What was that?” her brother asks.

“Nothing,” she squeaks, raising her hips up to Killian’s touch as he slides her underwear to the side. She should have never answered this phone call. “So w-what about dinner? You don’t think maybe we should let Killian rest?”

“I think he’ll be excited to see all of us,” David explains while Killian very pointedly drags his tongue up between her folds, making her entire body heat and squirm all the while she has to hold back her gasp on the phone to her brother. “So where are you thinking he’ll like?”

“I don’t,” she gasps, reaching with her free hand down to Killian to grab onto his hair and hold him still even though that’s the absolute last thing that she wants right now, “know. He’s your best friend.”

David sighs on the other end of the line. “I’ll ask Mary Margaret. Do you – ”

“I have to go,” she practically yells as Killian circles her clit. “Work call.”

“Okay well – ”

She hangs up the phone and throws it down on the bed, slamming her eyes shut as waves of pleasure crest through her. Damn. She really is glad to have him home.

Even if she can’t tell anyone else that he’s currently in her apartment driving her mad with his tongue and his teeth and his lips. They’ve been together for two years, even if he was away for over half of that time, and during all of those months she hasn’t told a single soul that she and Killian are dating. It’s stupid if she thinks about it too much, but she only really knows Killian because he’s been her brother’s best friend for about five years now. And David has always been obnoxiously weird about her dating his friends.

She’s pretty much dated all of his friends.

It’s difficult to meet people, okay?

When she was a teenager she was with Neal. It was all kinds of puppy love until it was decidedly not puppy love with him framing her for stealing watches and sending her to jail for eleven months. She despises the ground he walks on, and the amount of therapy she’s gone through to get to where she is today would absolutely blow most people’s mind. She doesn’t know what she’d do if her mom hadn’t had the resources to help her out. She doesn’t know what she’d have done if she hadn’t accepted the help. She was bitter for a long time, deservedly so she thinks, and there are still times when she has nightmares about the injustice that was done to her.

No part of her thinks that she was this innocent flower child in high school, but she wasn’t a criminal. She should have never gone to jail.

She should have never trusted Neal.

And she has a hard time trusting people, which is probably why she’s had a tendency to date people David is friends with. For awhile, she didn’t want anything more than to scratch an itch, but then she moved to Boston and slept on David’s couch and began dating his roommate Graham.

Graham, who was as sweet as can be and who she was emotionally unavailable to for the longest time. But he still kept trying, was still kind to her, but at some point they both realized it simply wasn’t going to work. And if they realized it through a series of awful fights that still make her cringe, that’s another matter. Graham had to move out of the apartment – even if he didn’t technically have to– and that made work for David incredibly awkward. It made her relationship with David awkward too, and he pretty much forbid her from dating his friends.

As if he could tell her what to do.

That’s probably what upset her most of all. She’s an adult. She can make her own choices, and her older brother doesn’t get to make them for her. And while their relationship is back to normal now, they did go through some difficult times. So when she and Killian happened to get drunk on a night out in September of two years ago and sleep together, they both agreed that no matter what, they weren’t telling David. And it was going to be fine. It was just supposed to be a one time thing. But then it happened again…and again…and again, and eventually they decided to move on from sleeping together to actually dating. It was terrifying, but it works.

Plus, the thrill of it all kind of made things all the better.

She was happy and in love and laughed more than she’d ever laughed in her entire life, but then Killian told her he was deploying to South Korea and even though he wasn’t in real danger, her heart absolutely fell to pieces. She told herself that it would be fine, that she would be fine, that they would be fine. She doesn’t mind being on her own, and she wouldn’t miss Killian that much.

She missed him every damn day.

It was an entirely new world for her, one she’d never experienced with anyone before, and her respect for those with significant others in the military increased tenfold. She missed him, plain and simple, and she still can’t quite believe that he’s home.

And eating her out like a man starved.

She definitely approves of that.

It doesn’t take much longer before she falls apart, her orgasm rolling through her in short waves, and just as Killian is nuzzling his nose into her thigh, the doorbell rings with their lunch. The two of them lounge around in bed as they eat their food, handing over the containers to each other to share, and let episodes of Elementary play in the background. It’s nice, more than nice, and she absolutely never wants to move from this bed, especially as Killian makes her laugh so much that her stomach is absolutely convulsing in joy.

“You’re ridiculous,” she sputters, twisting around on the mattress and resting her temple against the headboard. “How in the world do you know all of the lyrics to every Spice Girls’ song?”

“It’s part of a requirement to living in England.”

“Is that why you had to move to America? Your Posh Spice impersonation wasn’t up to snuff?”

Killian reaches over and pinches her thigh while she kicks out at his leg. “You know why I moved here, and it wasn’t because my bloody Posh Spice impersonation wasn’t enough.”

Her eyes roll. Ridiculous, she thinks again. Ridiculous man.

“I’ll tell you what I want what I really, really want,” she teases before standing on the bed, moving down toward the end and hoping down to the floor. “I want to take a shower because we have to get ready to go to dinner with my brother.”

“Do you think I can lie and say my flight is delayed?”

“Probably.”

Killian clicks his tongue behind her, and before she can fully strip out of her sweater, he’s wrapping his arms around her waist, fingers splayed against his stomach, and nuzzling his chin into her shoulder. “You don’t think that makes me the worst person?”

“Oh no, it does, but I’m encouraging it.”

“Good.” He starts walking the two of them backwards until they fall back onto her bed. “I plan on not letting you go until I absolutely have to.”

-/-

“I cannot believe you chickened out and are making us go out to dinner,” she huffs as they walk through downtown on the way to David and Mary Margaret’s apartment later that night. “Like, I didn’t even get a chance to take a real shower because you had some kind of brain aneurism and felt guilty about skipping dinner when it was your idea in the first place.”

Killian chuckles beside her, his breath turning white in the air, before his arm wraps around her waist and tugs her closer, warming her with the continual movement of his hand and the press of his lips against her temple. Their ears are going to fall off even with these beanies covering them, and all she wants is to be inside David’s apartment eating the pizza she knows he ordered for them.

At least she hopes that David ordered. When Mary Margaret orders sometimes things get a little dicey. At least they’re not going out to eat since Killian told her brother he was a bit too knackered to do anything other than sit on the couch and eat at home. Of course, he could have done that in her apartment, but apparently, he too good of a person to completely cancel on David and Mary Margaret.

They finally get to the apartment building, her fingers nearly frozen off, and instead of letting her finish typing in the code to get in, Killian pulls her to the side and presses her up against the gated fence, cold iron digging into her back while somehow still warm lips press into hers, reigniting the sparks that she never wants to extinguish as Killian nips at her lips, a gasp escaping her as she melts into the kiss.

Well, freezes. She’s freezing, but she’s melting into the kiss. She’s always been an enigma. At least, that’s what Killian tells her.

Killian could tell her that he thinks she’d look better with a third boob if he keeps kissing her like this. And she definitely wouldn’t care.

(Okay, she totally would. That’d be weird.)

“What was that for?” she murmurs as her hands run down his arms until they’re tucking inside of his coat, exploring firm lines and muscles until they find their place in the back pockets of his jeans. Is it to keep her hands warm or feel his ass? No one has to know but her.

(It’s both.)

He doesn’t answer at first, his lips still softly gliding over hers while his hands inch a little higher on her shoulders, fingers landing at her neck while he drags his nail against her skin, a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold running through her.

“I can’t kiss you when we go inside, and I realized that I desperately needed to kiss you once more.”

“Charmer.”

He clicks his tongue, pulling back so that she can see the blue of his eyes. Seriously. How are his eyes so blue? Is that even genetically possible?

“You like my charming ways, love.”

“At least a solid seventy two percent of the time, yeah.”

Killian taps his fingers against her neck before holding onto a bit of her hair, running it through his fingers. She’s missed how he did that. “That’s a passing percentage, so that’s good with me. You ready to go upstairs?”

She nods. “Absolutely.”

Her head is still a little dizzy, her mind a bit jumbled from the feeling of Killian pressed up against her, but she manages to type in the code and open the gate so that they can go inside and take the stairs the three floors up to David and Mary Margaret’s apartment. Mary Margaret opens the door, and the moment her eyes land on Killian, a bright smile breaks out onto her face and she’s very literally shoving Emma aside to hug Killian so tightly that his eyes very well may pop out of his head.

She’d never put that past Mary Margaret.

At least her own brother hugs her first, even if it is a quick little thing before he moves onto her boyfriend. To be fair, she did pretty much smother Killian when he got home, but she’s also very much in love with him. She can do things like that.

“I ordered some pizza from Rose’s,” David explains when all of the hugging is over and they’re settled into the warmth of the apartment, jackets and hats shed and hung on the back of the door. “And we have water, beer, rum.”

“And lemonade,” Mary Margaret pipes in.

“And lemonade,” David continues, waiting behind the kitchen island.

“Water is fine. I still feel a bit parched from traveling. Swan?”

“Water. You’re really going all out if you bought rum and pizza for Killian.”

“Mary Margaret wanted to do so much more, so I promise you this is tame.”

“Just throw me under the bus, why don’t you, sweetie?” Mary Margaret huffs.

“She also tried to order pineapple pizza.”

Mary Margaret chunks an empty plastic water bottle at David, hitting him in the back of the head, and he barely even acknowledges it, continuing to open pizza boxes and get out paper plates and full water bottles.

True love and all that.

“So how happy are you to be home?” Mary Margaret asks.

They’ve all settled down into the living room, David and Mary Margaret sitting on one couch while she and Killian take the loveseat, two separate blankets pulled over their laps since she’s still freezing, the apartment suddenly not as warm as she thought it was when they walked in. The warm pizza, though, is pretty much the greatest thing she’s ever eaten, and she could probably go through an entire box. By the speed that Killian is going, he could go through two.

“Words can’t express how happy I am,” he laughs, the joy in his voice obvious as he holds his slice of pizza in his hand. His happiness means everything to her. “I mean, I can sleep. I can eat my favorite foods. I can catch up on some of my shows. My God, I have so many shows to catch up on.”

His eyes dart toward her, and she knows that he is aware of the fact that she didn’t wait for him.

Oops.

“So you’re more excited to watch TV than to see your friends?”

“Absolutely, Dave. Though I did miss that handsome face of yours.”

“Ba – oh my gosh,” she stutters, nearly calling Killian babe, “you guys are ridiculous.”

“Don’t be jealous that he didn’t miss your face.”

She sticks out her tongue at David because that’s obviously the mature thing to do.

“To be fair,” Killian sighs, “I mostly missed Emma’s ass.” It’s Killian’s turn to get a water bottle chunked at him, from David this time, but he catches it, the plastic crunching under his grip as she and Mary Margaret try to contain their laughter. “What? Your sister has a fantastic ass.”

“It’s true,” she shrugs, hoping too much of her face isn’t as red as the pizza sauce. “To be fair, I missed Killian’s ass too.”

They’re probably pushing it a bit too far, especially with the way that David is glaring at her, but then he turns back to the television and asks what show Killian wants to catch up on, telling him that it’s his night and he can watch whatever he wants. He picks Stranger Things, which doesn’t surprise her at all, and she gives up pretending that she doesn’t know what’s going to happen by the second episode when Killian’s hand ends up on her thigh under the blankets, a comforting presence even when he inches a little too high and causes her breathing to be a little shallow.

In her long list of reasons why she missed Killian – and it’s getting longer every minute – the little things that he does are definitely inching their way to the top. Whenever they sit together or drive somewhere together, his hand is always resting on the inside of her thigh. Sometimes it’s because he’s trying to rile her up, but most of the time it’s because he wants that connection, the one she wants too. This easy intimacy is quite possibly her favorite thing in the entire world, and she never wants to give it up.

Ever.

Even if she knows that Killian is going to complain about her having watched every single show that she told him she’d wait for him for.

Shit happens. She likes TV. Killian was gone for a long time.

He’ll forgive her.

Probably.

“You have new freckles on your nose,” he whispers into her ear, his breath hot on her skin. “And your hair is longer.”

“That tends to happen when I don’t get it cut.”

“Aye, I know.” He squeezes her thigh, and she wonders if it would be too obvious if she kissed Killian right now. Probably. No, definitely. “I’m simply categorizing all of the things that have changed since I left.”

“That might take you awhile.”

“I think I have the time.”

“Hey, Jones,” David calls, and she and Killian both turn their heads to look at her brother, his face hidden in the shadows of the dark room so that it’s only illuminated by the television light, “next time you’re trying to keep a relationship with my sister secret, maybe don’t make out right by the security camera in front of our apartment. And, well, maybe have the balls to ask her out on a date.”

Oh.

No.

Shit.

“Swan?” Killian questions, raising a brow while his lips curve up to the side into that playful smirk she likes all the while her heart feels like it’s definitely mixing in with her small intestine over the fact that David apparently knows about them and sat through this entire dinner and binge watching session pretending he didn’t like a freaking psychopath.

“Yeah?”

“You want to go on a date? Or do you want to go back to your place and give me one of those Navy and David disapproved hickeys?”

“Eh,” she laughs, suddenly feeling much lighter than she thought she would when this moment came to fruition, not that she ever really could have imagined how it could. It certainly wasn’t going to be like this. “We’ve been on lots of dates. Let’s go home and talk about those hickeys and the freckles on my nose.”

Two years later when Killian deploys, Emma doesn’t leave him with a hickey on his neck. Instead she leaves him with a ring on his left hand.

And a hickey on his thigh where no one but her can see.

Killian returns to favor when he comes home.

David approves.

Of the relationship. Not the hickey. That would be weird.

#cs prompts #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

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draymalfoi · 7 years

Text

End of the line

Hey every one!! I am new to writing fanfic and would love to hear what you think about this one. Theme: Stucky<3 The story is going to span from the pre-war friendship between Bucky and Steve and the present day reunification. The pace is a bit on the lower side. Hope you will share a lot of love

Chapter 1 As far back as he remembered, James had always been well built. He had been a star in school, having tons of friends, followers and worshippers. However, when exactly had he become a bully, he did not remember. His gang of pals were not exactly sadists but they relished going after anyone who caught their fancy, strong or weak, girl or boy. They were not overly cruel but those who had the misfortune of being their target once became social outcasts till the next one came in. James had just looked, had not interfered, neither in the pranks nor for the benefit of the bullied. However, these days everything seemed different to him. He could enjoy nothing. He hated nothing. It was almost as he felt no emotion which was rather odd given how much he used to love being loved, being the greatest hero for some and villain for others. But then, since the war had started, life and death seemed to him banal. His father was missing but it seemed to matter to none. He had grieved in private for months till there were no more tears to shed. However, when he thought of enlisting himself, this very strong urge to protect his family, to be the guardian of them had engulfed him. Now he felt his mother and sisters were stronger than him. They would do well even with him gone. That just made him more despondent than ever. He could never shake off how brave his father had been when the last big war had occurred. James was barely four at that time. His father had been at the forefront then. And in the years after the war, he had been working hard as the head scientist in a government agency. But he never spoke about work at home, and James never asked. It was only when they had received his file and belongings months ago, did he realise how little he knew of his father apart from him being a loving and protective head of the family. No, James had been too busy with this own life, and he had every reason to be. Now, when that reason too was lost, James was not very sure of where to look next. He fell back to reminiscing that day, three years ago, when his life began to change.

1938, Brooklyn The day was sunny after weeks of gloomy rain. The grey skies had cleared just in time for school to reopen and James was ready to leave home for the small apartment that he had rented along with four of his friends. It wasn’t much, but enough for them have fun. His appearance had altered too. For months now, he had been doing hard physical work at a construction site to get himself into shape and to earn some extra cash. Of course, his parents didn’t know. But the results had been impressive. At 6’2”, James was now 200lbs. His dark brown hair was longer and he had begun tying it roughly last month. He also sported a slight stubble. It made him look a little older and more mature. James hated the look. But he had been complimented to be pretty way too many times last year with his clean shaven face and gelled hair. James like it that way, complete with his suit, but so did a lot of other men and women and he did not want that much attention this time around.

“James Buchanan Barnes” Sam called out his name with excitement. “Don’t you look dashing?” James laughed at his friend as they joined others in the alley behind the school. This was their hanging out spot where they fashioned themselves as lords and terrified newcomers. Every day, there was one or the other boy or girl, made meek by all the tales floating around in school, all too ready to pay up quietly. Some had actually become friends later and joined the gang as members graduated. But till now, no one had spoken out against them, neither in their faces nor behind their backs. The consequences could only be speculated.

On that bright afternoon, two girls walked in the alley. They were tall and confident. Funnily, one of them was walking in too eagerly. James was sitting on the side, in his usual spot, eyeing the girls with curiosity, when he noticed the third person behind them. It was a man, who looked as if he had stopped growing earlier than usual. He was 5’4” and not more than 100lbs. Well dressed in a white buttoned shirt, light brown trousers and black shoes, it was his face that captured James’s attention. His blond hair were neatly partitioned and fell slightly over his calm forehead. His smooth pale skin was too well suited to his sparkling blue eyes. The man looked at James for a second and in that moment, James felt as if he had pierced right into his soul. It was just a flicker before that feeling was replaced by understanding. That’s why the girls were so confident. They knew they were not going to be the targets today. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 2

“Steven Rogers” The little guy said clearly. The girls had been sent back promptly, as James had anticipated. He turned his attention towards Rogers who was facing his friends now. They were all standing up, may be to intimidate him more. Steve’s chin was up in a defiant way as a wrestling match was ordained by Tony, who was the de facto leader of the group. Martha, who happened to be Tony’s burly girlfriend was to be the opponent. A small crowd had gathered by now. As everyone started cheering, James thought ‘this should be fun’. He was lost looking at Rogers’ aquiline nose and the sweat dripping from his now creased forehead when he realised that everyone was looking at him expectantly. Lost in his thoughts, James completely missed the announcement that Martha was sick and therefore he would take over the match. Confused for a moment, James said yes. It was only when he was standing in the centre of the swelling crowd, staring into those blue eyes almost a foot below his, that he realised what he had volunteered for.

It was an uncharacteristically volatile minute for James. He knew not why but suddenly, he wanted to be wicked and punch the hell out of this tiny man. He just wanted to use all strength he had and crush that perfectly symmetrical face that exuded defiance. Rogers arms were up, his fingers curled in defence and his legs a little shaky. ‘It would take just a minute’ James thought. His friends’ rowdy comments were now ringing in his ears but his eyes were concentrated, nay they were drowning in the clear blue depth of Steven’s eyes. There he sensed fear, the kind that arises when you know of the impending loss but cannot give up for want of self-respect. James had often mocked such a sentiment, a sign of weakness and denial of one’s own personality. ‘Yes’, James thought, ‘he is the perfect target’ and raised his fist to hurt Rogers.

Barely minutes later, he was running, as fast as he could. James was pulling Rogers along, though it seemed like his legs would give away at any moment. He knew that tomorrow he would have to answer a lot of questions. But, at that time, only one thing mattered. He could not let Steve be beaten by himself or by anyone else. They stopped after having crossed almost ten blocks. Nobody had followed them. Breathing hard, James looked up and saw Steve sitting on the edge of the pavement, a soft smile on his face. Almost automatically, James grinned and introduced himself “James Buchanan Barnes. Nice to meet you, Stevie” Now smiling brightly, Rogers said “I can call you Bucky?” No one had called James that, but he liked the sound of it, as if it resonated with who he really was.

Bucky was grateful that Steve hadn’t asked him why they had run away. But they were talking soon enough about all things under the sun. Steve had lived in Bucky’s neighbourhood only. But home schooled and frequently sick, Steve was almost invisible to other boys and girls. He had a few friends and a doting mother. Bucky listened intently and talked about himself as carefree as possible. He felt as if like family, there would be no judgement from Steve. Slowly, as the sun was setting, Bucky began observing Steve closely. His thin and long fingers were smudged with charcoal as all this while he had been sketching in the tiny notebook he carried. With his neat clothes and calm demeanour, Steve looked like a complete gentleman. His eyes on the other hand, were a different matter altogether. It seemed as if they were changing hues from clear blue to a slight tinge of green and golden occasionally. As if they were expressing the tumult in his head- from fear to sadness to unbridled joy- his eyes shared it all. Bucky knew something was very wrong about the situation. He felt as if he was courting trouble Worse, he wanted to do it. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 3 Steve loved staying outdoors. As a kid he had spent entire days away from home, in farms with his aunt, playing with kids from the neighbourhood. His best friend, Natasha, was a redhead. She was agile and Steve had loved her dry sense of humour and her beatific smile. He was 12, when everything started going south. He developed asthma and lost a lot of weight as his heart too became weak. Soon enough, when all his class mates were hitting puberty and growing taller, he had become stuck at 5’4” which was shorter than many girls. If things could be any worse, Natasha had to move to Europe with her family. Steven would have been lonely and pathetic, but for his mother.

She was a beautiful woman with unfathomable mental strength. As a single parent, she had given Steve the best education possible, took personal interest in his affairs and was always kind to everyone around. She often brought home kids orphaned in the war and fed them and often even trusted them with her trading business. Steve adored her and was never shy of being called a Mama’s boy. His home schooling began at the age of 14. He was randomly joined by kids from the lane. Despite missing his time outdoors, Steve took solace in his mother’s company. He, however, started feeling distant from other kids. From being a friend, he became first the one who was pitied to one who was bullied. He always fought back and came home with bruises and a broken heart. Occasionally, he wrote to Natasha, but never received an answer. May be, she too had made better friends.

It was one of such day, when Steve met a kind gentleman walking hurriedly in the alley. He had lost a valuable piece of paper and was tracing back his steps Steve wondered at his energy, given he was quite old and had a prosthetic leg made of wood. ‘It must be really painful’, Steve thought. Shyly, he approached the man and asked if he needed some help. The boys nearby had started laughing by then. Steve was the one who needed help. All the time. The man had however had nodded and after five hours they found a paper on which something was written in German. It was signed by one Dr. Erskine. Steve was thanked profusely by the elderly man, who introduced himself as Dr Alexander Barnes. “Steve Rogers”, he replied. Steve never met him again.

‘Today will be a new start’, Steve thought.

He was starting college and his mother was ecstatic. Steve wanted things to remain that way. He put on his most inconspicuous clothes but of course his mother had other plans. He obliged. Wearing the white shirt and brown pants, he entered his college lawns. They were mostly dry, but to Steve, looked spectacular. He could breathe freely for the first time in years. He had a strong urge to open his sketch book, sit by a tree and draw. He was fiddling his hand in his satchel to find the charcoal when suddenly his heart skipped a beat. A few metres away, he was captivated by the sight of the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Though it was not often that he looked up at people near him, but this man was hard to miss. He was tall and well-built, his brown hair unkempt and he had a most charming smile on his face. He was talking animatedly with his friends, all of whom were huge. Steve realised he had been looking too long and quickly walked ahead to meet other freshmen. Some people were really kind to him, most ignored him, while others gave him a sympathetic look. But no one was ready, Steve noted, to see him as an equal. ‘College should be good’ Steve thought wryly.

It was sometime in the afternoon, when Steve was done for the classes for the day and was sketching randomly that he was summoned to the alley behind the school along with two girls. He complied and walked out behind them. It was here, he saw him again. An unusual sense of familiarity swept over him as he glanced over the man sitting on the side. Despite him being a member the gang, Steve felt secure in the presence of the brunet.

He was very surprised when a few minutes later he found the man looking straight into his eyes with contempt and his fists raised in anger. Steve, out of habit had his arms up in defence, but fear, like never before, swept over him. It was late in the evening when he finally reached back home. He felt elated. A smile was playing on his lips as he thought about his day. Bucky and he had nothing in common and yet they had become friends. That their friendship was just a day old, even lesser, was not very important for Steve. He had made a friend for the first time in years, and he would do all to keep it that way. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 4 Bucky knew he never enjoyed the company of women as much as his friends did. But he loved hanging out with Jane because she was such a sweet heart and would never let out his secret. He liked men and was in no position to tell anybody or the audacity to actually be in a relationship with other men. He had never known a homosexual and of course, he would never ask.

He was walking to class with Jane when he saw Steve sitting on the staircase, his nose buried in a book titled “Brave New World”. From his expression, it didn’t look like it was a pleasant read at all. Running up to him, Bucky said “Hi Steve, meet my friend, Jane.” Steve looked up straight into Jane’s perfect smile. ‘Jesus, why are all these people so beautiful’, he thought as he shook hands with Jane. He couldn’t believe his fortune for the next few hours, as he sat in the class with the probably the most popular people and cracked jokes without a glitch. Turned out, because James’ gang had never intended to beat him up…they were just a bunch of scary looking pranksters, who sometimes got in actual fights. Bucky (along with some others) thought they were bullies and was always sensitive towards their targets. Thus they were not very surprised when Bucky had simply run away with Steve.

“Thank God they think that’s the reason”, Bucky said to himself.

The next few days, whenever he met Steve, they just talked. Steve gained enough courage to try some sports, but realised his folly as he sat down panting. So he stuck to sketching as Bucky and others played basketball. Jane often joined him. He loved talking to her. She was very intelligent and even though she was majoring in Physics, she was always keen to discuss international affairs, politics and war with Steve. “There will be war again. With Hitler and the Nazi party of his doing so well and France and England quiet, there is no way this is going to end peacefully” Jane claimed one day as she sat down next to him, with newspaper in hand. “I will join the army, then” Steve replied. Some fellows near them smirked and laughed. “No No No buddy, that is not happening! We can’t afford to lose a national treasure like you”, Bucky remarked as he settled himself next to Jane. He was grinning from ear to ear. “We’ll see about that. But for now, I am very contended without a war. The depression was enough of a travesty to now see innocent people die” Steve said.

It had been months since Bucky and Steve had been friends. Steve adored Bucky. He was sincere and funny, very tough yet sensitive. Steve felt as if he had known him all his life. But then there were some days, when Bucky seemed distracted, like he was trying to hide something, nay, himself. He would just walk by himself and slightly nod when others greeted him. This didn’t happen often but when it did, Steve didn’t know what to do. Bucky was his best friend and watching him so listless pained him, but Steve was scared of being intrusive. On one such day, he asked Jane “Hey. Is something wrong with Buck? I wish I could help”. “Let’s go to the Amusement Park” Jane replied instantly and with much enthusiasm. “Okay, sure” Steve would go anywhere to see Bucky be cheerful again.

‘Roller Coasters. Shit. Why didn’t I think this through?’ Steve was slightly panicking. But seeing how excited Jane was and even Bucky looked interested, he relented. It was fun. He was firmly ensconced between Jane and Bucky and held their hands tightly till his knuckles were white. “THIS IS SO GREAT!!!” Bucky yelled as they sped through the curve of the figure eight. As soon as they got down, Bucky took Steve and Jane into his signature bear hug. Later they had Hot Dogs and baked beans for dinner, ending the meal with a large ice-cream. They were leaving as the three friends noticed a redhead smiling suggestively at Bucky. Well, that he was very attractive was no secret, but Steve felt ditched when Bucky went ahead and returned a while later with the girl in his arm. Through the rest of the night, they flirted and soon disappeared as Jane and Steve walked behind talking about inconsequential things.

By the time Bucky returned at the decided spot, Jane had already left, Steve had eaten two more hot dogs and the train station was almost empty. Bucky was also carrying a rather large pink teddy bear in his left arm. Steve, though tired, grinned at him “Did you exchange the redhead for a pink one?” “Nah, bought it for Dats, but she left it with me. She’ll take it on our next meet” Bucky said with a wink. “Okay, now buy us two tickets” Steve replied. Its then they realised that none had enough money left.

“Damn, it’s cold! I’m freezing” Bucky complained as they made their way home in the back of an open truck. Steve was shivering too. He looked at the teddy bear and remarked “Ask Pinky to warm you up”. Bucky looked conflicted for a second, before he quickly pulled Steve into an embrace. Holding each other would keep them warm, at least. Steve smiled and quickly dozed off on Bucky’s shoulder, the smile still lingering on his face. ‘God. He’s beautiful’ Bucky gave Steve a quick peck on his forehead before he too fell asleep.

............to be continued

#steve rogers #captain america #stucky #bucky barnes #romance #au #fanfic

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