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let-it-raines · 5 years

Note

Prompt: two boarding school teachers finally, FINALLY get together. Everyone around them is way too invested and knows way too much. I'd send you the link but tumblr won't like that.

Okay @shireness-says this completely and totally spiraled, and I 100% blame you for that. I’m sure you won’t mind though, and I hope that you enjoy!

Rating is on the more mature side for the ending, as per request 😘

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Wind whips through the courtyard as Killian walks along the sidewalk wishing he had a scarf to go along with his jacket and his knit hat, but he can’t seem to find his school-approved scarf. He’s thirty-two years old, and he still has to wear a school-approved scarf when it’s school hours and he’s technically on the clock. Though, working at a boarding school means he’s nearly always on the clock when he’s in charge of the eleventh-grade boys’ dorm three nights a week. At least they don’t check his scarf-wearing there.

He simply has to check to make sure thirty hormonal seventeen-year-olds aren’t sneaking out or sneaking girls in. Most nights it’s easy, others he swears he gains several wrinkles on his face, and sometimes he has to call in Rob on his night off to help to get them to all settle down.

Killian never thought that being a Calculus teacher would be this damn hard, and he voluntarily became a Calculus teacher.

The dorm beds really kill his back, and he longs for the days where he can stay in his apartment in the faculty building that’s located between the boys’ and girls’ dorms.

Tomorrow.

He’ll be back in his apartment tomorrow, and he cannot wait to spend the entire time in bed.

Pulling his coat a little tighter around him, Killian keeps trudging through the slight dusting of snow with his backpack bouncing against his lower back. A group of students are throwing a football back and forth to each other while another bunch sit at a cluster of picnic tables, their voices echoing between the small group of buildings, and Killian can’t help but smile at them voluntarily sitting out in the cold simply so they can get in a little fun on their lunch hour.

The thing about Storybrooke Academy is that it’s remote. Wealthy parents up and down the east coast ship their teenagers off to live and be educated in the ivy-covered halls of this prestigious academy for two reasons:

(1) The teachers are top notch.

(2) Their children have very little access to distractions.

The actual town of Storybrooke is a fifteen-minute walk downhill – which inevitably means the walk back is a torturous fifteen minutes uphill – and since students cannot have cars here, the only way to leave the campus is by walking. They’re also only allowed to leave on the weekends, and even then, anyone under sixteen has to be accompanied by a faculty member. As much as Killian loves his students, he doesn’t love spending the little free time he has on the weekends with them as they spend their entire day at the diner that backs up to the beach.

He doesn’t blame them for going there, though. Not at all. As wonderful as their meal hall food is, it can get repetitive. And as much as they all try to provide the kids with enough study material to spend their afternoons and enough entertainment to spend their evenings, it can get a little boring up here. The headmaster is a bit old school in that he doesn’t believe in school-wide Wi-Fi – “the internet is a distraction full of horrors, and we will not have it here outside of the library and the classrooms” – so it’s not as if they can spend their days scrolling through Instagram or streaming YouTube videos.

Is he old or does he simply sound old thinking that?

No matter, the students and faculty at Storybrooke Academy spend their free time in search of entertainment through reading, board and card games, the occasional movie night, and, of course, gossip.

Gossip, as they say, makes the world go around, and that is surely true here.

It’s what makes the clock in the tower tick and the ink in the pens run. It’s what causes teenagers to have flush rise in their cheeks and for adults’ whispers gets caught in the wind and carried to the three hundred people who live on this campus.

Killian doesn’t truly want to take part in it, but it’s nearly inevitable with how things work. For instance, he knows that their head cook Ms. Lucas was once married to their handyman Mr. Geppetto but that they can’t stand to be in the same room together now. It’s to the point that if something in the kitchen is broken, she will fix it herself and get electrocuted before calling for help. The gossip is always what allows him to know that last week a group of the tenth-grade girls snuck away from their dorm in the middle of the night to break into the science building so that they could use the internet to stream this week’s episode of the Bachelor. It is always what enables him to be aware of the fact that there was a copy of one of his tests floating around so now he’s been able to make a new test with new questions.

Mostly, however, being aware of the academy’s penchant for gossip is what has Killian knowing that he must keep his private life at a degree higher than private so no one knows the details of what is going on when he is off campus.

As Killian continues to move along the courtyard, he passes by Emma Swan and Mary Margaret Blanchard huddled together with a group of their history students. He tries not to look at her for too long, so he only sees a flash of blonde hair wrapped up under a warm white knit hat with a puffball on the top and the slightest hint of a smile. Blush warms his cheeks more than a scarf ever could, but Killian pushes it down. He is not a school boy, and he certainly will not blush like one over a pretty lass smiling at him.

Even if that pretty lass is the woman he’s been pining over for the past three years.

She may very well be the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen. The first day he ever saw her she walked into the faculty lounge wearing a skin-tight black dress that showed every curve of her toned body hidden under a vibrant red blazer. Her blonde hair cascaded off her shoulders in thick waves that he simply knew would be soft, and the sunlight gleaming through the windows made the green of her eyes almost look blue. She was breathtaking, and he nearly did have his breath taken away from him when he went to speak to her and words did not come out.

Not his best first impression, but certainly not his worst.

However, Emma isn’t simply someone who he’s physically attracted to. She’s smart and kind and so goddamn witty that his heart aches when she’s smiling while talking to him and that it aches even more when she’s smiling while talking to someone else.

Killian has never once had an issue telling a woman that he wants to be with her, and yet he can’t even think about telling Emma how much she means to him. They’ve grown too close.

Besides, Emma doesn’t feel anything besides friendship for him. How could she feel anything else? She deserves far better than him.

The thing about the rumors that bounce along the walls of this school is that they are not simply current rumors. They are rumors of the past like Killian’s forced retirement from the Navy at the age of twenty-two and the married woman who he was having an affair with. He didn’t know at the time, but that’s never seemed to matter.

Rumors make the world go around and yet bring a singular person to a screeching halt all at once.

“Killian,” Emma calls out, and he stops in his tracks to turn back around to look at her as she walks toward him. She’s even more beautiful close up, white specks of snow sprinkled in her hair and on the tip of her eyelashes, and the only thing keeping him from reaching up to touch the snow is Emma’s hand landing on his forehand as little sparks of electricity move over him. “Why weren’t you at breakfast this morning?”

Killian quirks his brow and sways a little further into Emma’s space, all of his usual bravado returning as his lips curl into a salacious smirk. “Did you miss me then, love? I know I’m irresistible, but I figured you could at least make it through breakfast without me.”

She good-naturedly rolls her eyes as her hand stays wrapped around his forearm. He can see the gold specks in her eyes from here. “I’m not stroking your ego, Jones.”

“You’re not stroking anything of mine if we’re being particular.”

“Please,” she huffs, a white puff of air coming out with her breath. “You couldn’t handle it.”

Killian dips his head down to lower himself to her eye-level and get as close to her as possible so that he knows she can feel the heat of his breath on her skin. Emma’s hand over his coat sleeve is burning him alive.

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

She blinks, and he swears that she gets the smallest bit closer, her mouth nearing his, and his stomach painfully swoops at the prospect of Emma’s lips against his. He’s imagined it far too many times. They’ll be soft, he’s sure, and he knows that if Emma kisses anything like she argues, she’ll give as good as she gets.

If not better.

And if they weren’t standing in a courtyard filled with all of their students and if Killian wasn’t sure that Emma had no interest in him, he’d surge forward and pull her lips and her body into his so that he can feel the heat of her body all over him, the cold air around them completely disappearing as he is absolutely consumed by Emma.

Emma’s breath hitches, the sound the loudest thing he’s ever heard, and Killian’s thoughts come back to him so that he’s stepping back and righting his features while he wishes that his trousers weren’t quite so tight. Reaching up to scratch behind his ear, Killian smiles down at her, this time in a perfectly friendly way.

“I missed breakfast because I was grading papers. I’ll be at supper tonight if you’d truly like to dine with the best company on campus. I know that I can be charming.”

Her smile changes then, from soft to a bit smug, and she steps back into his space so that his breath hitches this time. Her hand has never left his arm. “I simply wanted to know where you were because I wanted my headphones that you borrowed back. I don’t find you that charming that I simply needed to see you.”

Killian bites his tongue to keep from laughing at the squeak in her voice, and he leans into her as a strong gust of wind ruffles their coats and causes Emma’s hair to fly into his own face, tickling his upper lip.

“All that sounds like, darling, is that you need me in order to listen to your music, and I suggest that you start to find me charming so that I’m able to give them back to you.”

There’s a pinch at his skin. “You’re an ass.”

He winks. “You love it.” Emma opens her mouth to say something else, but then a bell is ringing over the courtyard, and they both spring away from each other and look around to see that most everyone had already started to head inside in preparation for the fifth period bell to ring, and yet the two of them have simply been standing outside. “Well, Swan, I guess I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah, and bring my headphones.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Killian turns on his heels and starts walking toward the building where his classroom is. Emma follows right behind him except that she takes a turn one door earlier than him, and as soon as she disappears behind the stone walls, he lets out a sigh of relief and can feel his heart start to beat normally again. Not every interaction with her is that charged, but damn does he love it when they do get to talk like that.

There is nothing quite like him being able to tease her.

By the time Killian gets to his classroom, all of his students are already sitting in their desks, each of them on their phones to use the internet while they can, and they barely even notice his presence as he sits down in his rolling chair and places the stack of tests he was grading this morning on his desk before he turns on his computer to pull up today’s lesson plans.

“So,” he starts as he types his username in, “do you guys have anything interesting to tell me today? What have I missed while I was holed away grading your papers, which were excellent by the way. I’ll give them back after I have a chance to go over some of the answers to the trickier questions with you all.”

His usual very chatty peanut gallery is silent, and he stops looking at his computer screen to look up and over at all of them. No one talks more than his advanced class of seniors, but every single one of them is staring down at their notebooks, all of their phones put away like the annoyingly good students that they are.

Killian rolls his chair to the center of his desk and leans forward to rest his cheek in his right palm while the fingers of his left hand drum against the wooden frame. “It’s Monday. That means we just had a weekend, and since we’ve had a weekend, I know that means you all have gossip. And because I don’t want you annoying your other teachers with it, I need you guys to tell me what’s going on around the school.” Still, no one says anything, and Killian sighs. “I’m not going over the exam until someone spits it out. You lot can’t focus until after we’ve had our Monday afternoon chats.”

His eyes scan over the room and finally land on Caroline Abbot. She never can keep a secret.

Sure enough, she starts speaking once he’s spent two seconds staring at her. “Ms. Swan went on a date this weekend, and we didn’t want to tell you since we know that you like her.”

An anvil drops in his stomach, the pain overwhelming him, and Killian bites down on his tongue so harshly that iron immediately fills his mouth while flames flicker across his cheeks.

Bloody hell.

No.

Emma can’t have gone on a date. She simply can’t. Well, no, of course she could. She’s a gorgeous, intelligent woman, and she can do whatever she damn well pleases.

It’s just that…no, that’s hopeful thinking. They are not going to end up together, no matter how much his students are convinced that they are.

“First of all, Caroline,” he breathes out on a heavy sigh, “I do not have feelings for Ms. Swan.”

For fuck’s sake, why is he justifying himself to teenagers? Then again, he is the one to ask them about this weekend’s gossip, so he’s brought it on himself.

Who did Emma go out on a date with? Why didn’t she mention it? Why did no one mention it? Rob or Mary Margaret or, hell, Ms. Lucas should have mentioned it to him.

Emma should have mentioned it to him. They’re friends. They tell each other things. At least, he thought that they did. Yet, now that he truly thinks about it, he cannot remember the last time Emma told him one of her stories from her adventures in dating. They used to make a fire burn deep in his belly, still do apparently, and as nice as it was to listen to her share about her days, he’s a bit relieved that he hasn’t had to listen to any stories lately because he’s a miserable sod.

“But you do have feelings for her,” Abigail speaks up from the back of the classroom. “You two are perfect for each other, and everyone knows it but you.”

This gets the class in an uproar, as it always does, and Killian can do nothing to stop it. He’s tried before, but his students are absolutely convinced that he and Emma are some kind of fairytale True Love with capital letters and an overly cheesy happily ever after that doesn’t happen in real life because trials and tribulations still happen after the guy and the girl get together and drive off into the sunset.

And maybe he’d like to drive off into the sunset with Emma so that he can always hear the sound of her laughter and look at the crinkle of her nose as she smiles, but that’s simply not happening. The car is very much in park, if not shifting into reverse.

“Enough,” he shouts over the noise, banging his hand down on his desk just so that everyone can hear him. “Seriously, guys, I appreciate how much you care about your teachers, but Emma and I are simply friends and coworkers. You all go a little stir crazy holed up in here, so you’ve dreamed up this romance that simply isn’t there.”

“But it is,” George speaks up, and Killian is soothed by the familiar British accent of his student even if his words aren’t particularly pleasant. “You simply don’t know it yet. We all agree that the spark is there.”

Killian chuckles under his breath as his head shakes from side to side. He’s really got to get on with today’s lesson. “You know, as much as I love our Monday morning gossip sessions, I hate to tell you that no matter how hard you try, my personal life is never going to be something that runs along the rumor mill of this school. At least, my legitimate and current personal life. This hypothetical relationship between Emma and me doesn’t count.” Every single one of them opens their mouth to stay something, but he holds his finger up to stop them. “Nope. We’re moving onto Calculus, and that’s final.”

To say that the knowledge of Emma going on a date eats at Killian for the rest of the day is an understatement. The knowledge consumes him. Every second that he is not busy giving a lesson or grading papers his mind is focusing on it, and he knows that it’s unhealthy. It’s simply that he doesn’t think he’s able to turn his mind off and let himself focus on other, normal things that he should be focusing on.

Emma is a grown woman free to do what she wants, and she deserves all of the happiness in the world.

Killian was simply idiotic and selfish enough to think that some of that happiness could involve him.

It certainly doesn’t help that over the next few days Emma seems to be everywhere that he is. She slides in next to him in the booth at breakfast, excitedly telling him about this new book she just got in the mail or about how her foster brother is coming to visit next weekend, and he can barely keep his omelet down for the way that his stomach churns at the thought of her eating breakfast with whoever the mystery man is. If she doesn’t invade his space at breakfast, she’s finding him in the hallways between classes and utilizing the internet to show him something funny she found online. She’s always doing things like that. He’ll have not checked his phone overnight, and when he walks across campus to the classrooms where there’s internet, he usually has at least ten messages from Emma. The texts load in the dorm, at least for him, but the pictures and videos never do.

They’re living in a semi-dark age, obviously.

And Killian isn’t exactly going out of his way to avoid running into Emma. He’s obviously a glutton for punishment, and he will seek her out at dinner so that they can sit together and talk about their days and so he can see and hear that beautiful laugh of hers. It’s all normal, he tells himself, until one day he’s walking down the halls to the office to use the printer when he passes by her classroom and sees her showing some sort of video on the Waltz. Emma likes to add in little elements of fun into her history lessons, often incorporating pop culture moments, but she certainly doesn’t look to be having fun demonstrating the dance with Andrew Barron who seems to have two left feet.

Killian smiles as he stands in the doorway, his heart fluttering at the way that Emma even with her spitfire personality, stays so calm so as not to embarrass the lad.

Emma catches his eye over Andrew’s shoulder, and the little half-grin she shows him gives him the courage to step in and ask Andrew if he may have the dance with Ms. Swan.

“What are you doing?” Emma asks, the incredulousness obvious in her voice, but he ignores it in favor of folding his fingers over her hand and placing his left hand just below her shoulder while she places hers on top of his.

“I’m helping you demonstrate a Waltz, love.”

“I think we were doing just fine.”

Killian leans in a little closer so that their bodies are nearer to each other than they have any right to be. “Well, perhaps I just wanted to dance with a beautiful woman.”

Emma blushes, and her lips part to say something, but he doesn’t give her the chance, quickly moving his feet so that their bodies begin moving along to the music still playing on the projector. Her chest is visibly heaving and a little flushed, and it takes the sound of the metal leg of a desk scraping against the tile floor to remember that he’s in Emma’s classroom and that this is technically a lesson.

He should not be staring at her breasts.

“It’s really a rather simple dance,” he explains to the class, flashing them his broadest grin as his skin still sparks from the heat of Emma’s touch. “At least this version is. And if all else fails, you simply have to pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

They all nod in agreement, smiles on their faces, and Killian doesn’t fail to notice one of the students pulling out his phone to record them. He’s sure that it’ll make the rounds of the school and quite possibly the internet sometime soon, but he doesn’t really care, not when this is the most fun he’s had in days.

“Where’d you learn to do this?” Emma questions, her eyes lighting up as she looks up at him.

“You’d be surprised what they teach you in the Royal Navy.”

Her lips stretch out from one side to the next in a slow smirk, and Killian swears that his entire body is on fire. “I’m impressed, Mr. Jones.”

“As you should be, darling. And if you ever need someone to save you from a horrific dance lesson, you know where I am.”

“The only person who saves me is me.”

Killian winks as the music winds down to the end. “Aye, well, it never hurts to have a little help, especially when one of us is much better with our movement than the other.”

She scoffs and reaches out to slap his arm, but Killian stops her, grabbing onto her hand and bending down to press his lips to her knuckles, his eyes never straying from hers so that he can see her sharp intake of breath and the way that her eyes widen so that all he can see is green.

“It was a pleasure, milady. I’ll see you in our faculty meeting this afternoon, aye?”

And then he’s walking out of the classroom with a thundering heart, barely able to remember that he needs to pick up the papers he had with him when he walked into the room.

It’s wrong to want to be with her when she is likely with someone else, and yet here he is still doing things like that.

Killian vows to himself to back off and to stay away from her outside of actual work duties and friendly conversation, and that seems to last less than eighteen hours as Emma simply keeps finding him or he keeps finding reasons to talk to her. It doesn’t help that the video that was indeed taken of the two of them dancing has begun circulating throughout the school, and all of Killian’s students bring it up to him, each of them wondering why he and Emma aren’t together.

Life isn’t boxed into pretty pictures and graceful dances, and just because two people move well together does not mean that they are meant to always move in the same direction.

They don’t get it, but he doesn’t expect them to. They’re all teenagers who have experienced little when it comes to love and relationships, and even if they all feel that deep pang of the heart one feels when they are attracted to someone, they don’t understand that this is some kind of pipe dream.

He may sound a little juvenile even thinking that, but it’s the truth.

And their hope and faith in he and Emma being together does nothing to tamper down the feelings still festering in his chest.

The hopelessness he feels makes him wonder if he should take the step forward and tell Emma how he feels. At least then he’ll have the words off of his chest and no longer have the little inkling in his brain that makes him think that there’s hope there. Then again, that’s rather selfish, isn’t it? All that does is let Emma have to walk around with the weight of his feelings on her shoulders, and he can’t do that to her.

For all he knows, she is still dating that guy, and he’s been too much of a coward to ask his students if they know of her going on another date. It’s an invasion of privacy, one he can’t take, so he doesn’t.

January fades into February in the blink of an eye, the chill of a Maine winter somehow getting colder and filled with much more snow, and most outdoor activities get cancelled in favor of spending time indoors, and that’s exactly how he ends up supervising a movie night with none other than Emma Swan.

Life is funny that way.

The common room is full of all of the residents of his dorm, each of them huddled around the projector that Killian’s brought in to watch the new Spiderman movie. The cafeteria provided popcorn and snacks as well as a few cans of soda for everyone to drink, and the excitement of the students is palpable. They don’t get to do things like this too often, especially with the eleventh-grade girls from Emma’s dorm being mixed in with his guys, and he’s happy to let them simply be teenagers.

Just…under a hell of a lot of supervision from their teachers, so not a hell of a lot of freedom.

It’s probably been about fifteen minutes since he seriously had a look around the room, though. He trusts these students, and it’s not as if he can’t see absolutely everything that’s happening. Plus, he’s far too distracted by the way that Emma’s thigh is brushing against his under the blanket that she brought in to combat the chill from the cold stone building they’re in.

She’s relaxed this evening, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail and black-framed glasses perched on her nose, and she has on an oversized white sweater and a pair of leggings, thick socks pulled halfway up her calves. They’re both out of the dress code tonight, as they’re allowed to be, and it’s nice simply to feel normal.

The students aren’t the only ones who are restricted here.

“This movie is so cute,” Emma sighs. “I mean, I remember feeling exactly like that when I was a teenager and had a crush on someone. The overthinking and always trying to find a way to spend time with them or to brush your hand over their forearm.”

“I don’t think that stops when you get older.”

“No, I don’t think it does.” She twists to the side and smiles at him, and the insane creatures that live in his stomach start fluttering. “I think we simply get a little smoother in our actions, but I do think we overthink things a little more.”

“Why’s that, love?”

She shrugs. “We know more. Love is…scarier, I guess. Our hearts have been broken and bruised, and even if we feel the thrill of attraction, it’s dampened by the fear of what happens if the person we want to be with doesn’t want to be with us.”

It’s like she doesn’t even know.

The again, she doesn’t.

“Yeah, true,” he breathes out as his eyes move away from Emma and back up to the screen where the kids are on the plane traveling to Europe. “Then again, you don’t have to worry about that anymore, do you?”

“What are you talking about?”

Killian grits his teeth, his fists clenching beneath the blanket, and he’s almost reckless enough to say something else.

Almost.

Thankfully, though, one of his students asks him if he can turn the volume up on the movie, so he has to rise from his seat and move to the projector to adjust the settings. When he returns to his seat, the conversation is long since forgotten, and he can move on.

He has to move on and put some distance between the two of them.

Emma doesn’t seem to have any inclination to let him because even though he makes a conscious effort to not spend time with her over the next few days, she is still always around. If she’s in the dining hall, he skips a meal. If she’s in the library, he finds somewhere else to make his lesson plans. If she’s in the lobby of the faculty apartments, he turns right back around into the cold even if all he wanted was to go up to his apartment and go to bed.

The only time that he’s safe is when it’s his nights to sleep in the dorms and supervise. She may have been in there for movie nights, but that was simply a one-time thing.

Nothing else will come of it.

At least, that’s what he tells himself until he’s sitting in his classroom entering grades during his planning period, and his door opens before slamming shut behind Emma.

“Swan,” he says in greeting, furrowing his brow together as he takes her in. “What are you doing in here? Do you need something because I – ”

“Why the hell have you been avoiding me?”

“I have not been avoiding you.”

Emma rolls her eyes and steps in closer to him with her arms crossed over her chest, and he’s reminded that he quite fancies her when she’s yelling at him. And when she’s not. It’s an all the time kind of thing. “You have been avoiding me. Every time I see you around campus, you bolt in the other direction. That’s called avoiding, Jones.”

“That’s called coincidence.”

“Well, that’s a lie.”

He minimizes his screen as if that will somehow help the pounding of his heart sounding between his ears. “I can assure you, darling, that it’s not.”

Her jaw ticks, and he can hear the click of the heel on her boot tap against the floor while she looks up at the ceiling. “You know what, fine,” she huffs, uncrossing her arms and slapping her hands against her thighs. “If you’re going to be a dick and avoid me and lie to me instead of telling me what I have done to make you mad, fine. That’s just how it is.”

“I am not angry with you. What could possibly give you that idea?”

“The avoiding me thing.”

“Again, I’m not avoiding you,” he lies as more guilt festers in his stomach.

“You are,” she shouts, only to look behind her and bring her bottom lip between her teeth and quiet her voice to a low hiss. “You are avoiding me, Killian, and I thought we were close enough to be adults about this and actually say what’s going on in our lives.”

“Yeah, like you told me that you were dating someone.”

Oh fuck.

He did not mean to say that.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing. Just, leave it alone.”

“I am not going to leave it alone, Killian. I have worked here for three years, and in those three years, I have never gone more than two days without talking to you. It’s been a week and a half, and I want to know what’s going on.”

“Well for fucks sake,” he groans as he stands from his chair and walks toward her, anger and confusion coursing through his body so that his brain doesn’t bloody work anymore. “I was backing off from spending time with you because I couldn’t deal with the fact that I was flirting with you while you had a boyfriend.”

She nearly recoils, but she stands firm. Stubborn lass. “You were flirting with me?”

“That’s what you got out of that?”

“What else am I supposed to get out of it?”

“The bloody boyfriend part, Swan. You have one of those, and it’s not right for me to be blatantly flirting with you and spending time with you when you belong to someone else.”

“First of all,” she starts, holding up a finger, “I do not belong to anyone else. I belong to myself. Second of all, I do not have a boyfriend. I don’t know where you got that idea. And lastly, I wanted you to flirt with me, you dumbass. For someone who is literally the king of innuendos, you surely don’t know how to notice when a woman is interested in you. My God, I was ready to slap the shit of you so many times. I still am right now.”

His brain is broken. Just…it is broken. Because the words Killian is hearing cannot possibly be coming out of Emma’s mouth. They wouldn’t even come out of her mouth in his wildest dreams.

And because he’s an idiot, he doesn’t focus on what he’s supposed to focus on. “I think you have a boyfriend because the students told me you went out on a date.”

“A date? When the hell did I go out on a date?”

“I don’t know. A bloody month ago. I’m sure the two of you are happily in love by now.”

“You are positively daft, aren’t you?” She scoffs and shakes her head from side to side before hiding her face behind her hands. “Like, I cannot believe we’re even having this conversation.”

“You should be able to. You came into my classroom. I didn’t seek you out.”

“And we’re running back in a circle again.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. It means nothing.”

The two of them stand in silence as they stare at each other with the air around them thickening with words unsaid. Killian isn’t sure what’s happening, can’t remember the words that have been said and the words that haven’t, and for what may very well be the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to say.

Somehow, he has been rendered speechless.

All he knows is that in this entire mess he missed out on one very important sentence.

Emma is going to kill him, probably, and he doesn’t even care. Killian narrows his eyes and sways closer to Emma, very much invading her space as a smile curls on his lips while his heart absolutely hammers within his chest.

“Swan, did you say that you were interested in me?” he teases, and God, her perfume smells fantastic.

“No,” she blatantly lies, “no, I didn’t.”

“You did, though. In all of that mess of a conversation, you said you were interested in me. You wanted me to flirt with you. Love, you have a crush on me.”

“What are you? Sixteen?”

“Thirty-two,” he answers as his hands cup her cheeks and feel the smooth skin under his touch. Her cheeks are warm, nerves and embarrassment and anger obviously causing the flames to ignite beneath her pale skin. “But you already knew that.”

Her eyes flicker up to his, and Killian will never quite be over just how gorgeous they are. Her eyes fill his dreams at night and light up his days.

“Emma?” he whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

There’s a short intake of breath from Emma, and his stomach flips. Despite the circumstances, he expects some kind of rejection from her. He doesn’t expect her to surge up on her toes and press her mouth over his while her hands thread into his hair, but she does.

Emma kisses much like everything else she does. She’s rough, passion being the first thing to burst through, but then once a little work is done, she’s a little more gentle and delicate as the blooming heat between them wells up and bursts so that little sparks of electricity trickle down his entire body and encourage him to pull Emma closer to him while his lips decide to take charge and devour her the way that he has always wanted to.

It’s a funny thing, kissing Emma Swan. A part of Killian is sure that this isn’t real and is all part of some kind of fever dream caused by the below freezing temperatures outside, and yet he knows from the warmth of her body – every inch of it – and the little gasps that she’s letting out that this is very much real.

This is real.

He bites down on her lip to tease her, to make her sigh more, and he’s very much satisfied with the result as a little whimper escapes past her lips and his hips press into hers so that they can get a little friction while his hands fall from her hair to travel down her arms and land on her waist, fingers dipping back into the pockets of her pants so that he can feel the firmness of her ass.

Thinking about taking her back to his apartment and fucking her into the mattress, though, is the exact thing that has him remember that they are standing in his classroom where students could walk in at any second.

It’s why he pulls back, if only just a little. His forehead stays pressed against hers, nose brushing against the skin of her cheek while his eyes finally flutter open to see the smile on Emma’s face.

“So, you were avoiding me because you thought I had a boyfriend?”

“I was an idiot who let the school gossip get to my head.”

Her fingers thump against the back of his head. “It was two dates. He’s a nice guy, but I couldn’t get into it when I have far too much fun flirting with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Do you want to, um…do you want to come by my apartment tonight?”

“I do,” he answers gleefully, “but I can’t. It’s my night to supervise my dorm.”

“Shit,” she hisses, and he absolutely has to kiss her again for that.

“I’ll call Rob and beg him to take my place, aye?”

“Okay, but don’t let him know why. I don’t know about you, but I don’t exactly want any more of my life to be gossip amongst teenagers.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

The bell rings then, a blaring alarm in his ears, and the two of them spring back from each other like they’ve been burned. Emma nearly runs out of his classroom, only leaving him with a sly smile on her kiss swollen lips, and instead of greeting his students at the door, Killian hurries to sit down at his desk and calm himself down so that he can teach this class like he isn’t currently consumed by the fact that the woman he has been pining for actually has feelings for him as well.

And that she wants him to come over tonight.

Robin better pull through for him and pay him back for all of the times that he’s changed shifts with him.

Killian can barely think for the rest of the afternoon. It’s nice that math comes automatically to him and that he can teach without too much thought, but he’d kind of like to think that he’s mature enough to not be completely and totally consumed with thoughts of a woman.

This is obviously not any woman, though. This is a woman who is bloody magnificent in every way imaginable, and all he wants to do is feel the softness of her lips once more.

And as slowly as the day passes, it does pass. He’s got after hours tutoring today as well as a basketball game to attend for at least a little while, but before he knows it, he’s in the boys’ dorms showering the day away and brushing his teeth once more before getting dressed in a pair of jeans and a button down that will not at all keep the cold away from him, especially with the way that he leaves the top few buttons undone.

He doesn’t plan on staying outside for too long anyhow.

Grabbing Emma’s headphones that he has yet to give back to her in the past month, Killian walks out the door of the dorm room faculty stays in when not in their apartments, and begins walking down the hallway to the exit.

“Where are you going, Mr. Jones?”

“I have some errands to run in town, Tyler,” he explains before flashing him a smile. “Mr. Locksley is taking my shift for the night. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask him, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

And then Killian is walking out of there faster than he’s ever walked and stepping out into the cool winter air before quickly dipping back inside the faculty building. He walks through the lobby, saying hello to everyone sitting there, before taking the stairs up to Emma’s apartment. She lives on the floor above him, and when he pokes his head through the hallway door and there’s no one there and no one wandering outside who can see up to the apartments, Killian quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway before knocking on Emma’s door.

When she opens it, she quickly ushers him inside before he can see that she’s wearing naught but a black robe with her hair cascading down her shoulder in loose waves. She smells like heaven wrapped up in a stick of cinnamon, and had he not been in Emma’s apartment several times before, he’d probably want to take a moment to look around. Instead he holds out her headphones while his eyes flicker down to her chest and the swell of her breast that he can see under the material of her robe.

“You know, Swan,” he teases, purposefully lowering the timber of his voice, “it seems that I have come over to your apartment simply to return your headphones to you, and you are dressed for something else.”

With a roll of her eyes, Emma leans forward and takes the headphones and places them on the table in her entryway before she’s wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him back into the apartment. “You see,” she sighs, “I was getting dressed, and I thought to myself how much I really didn’t want to have to put on pants with buttons again. And since we have, like, three years of unresolved feelings that we need to get out tonight, I figured that I’d just save us a step or two by not getting dressed.”

His hands find purchase on her hips, fingers tumbling toward the tie of the robe to undo it, and the little lingering fear in the back of his mind that he’s ruining something really good in his life goes away know that he knows Emma is still able to tease him.

“A man likes to be courted first, you know?” He slips her robe open so that his palm spreads out over the warm skin of her stomach, and it takes everything in him not to let his eyes flicker down to peruse her body. This is very much about what’s physical between them, but it’s also about so much more. “I don’t want you to think that I’m simply going to fall into bed with you.”

“I also have a couch.”

Killian’s laugh rumbles up from his stomach before he’s capturing her lips in a fierce kiss so that the laugh fades away into a growl that rumbles in his groin instead. Yet again, her warmth is bringing him back to life as her kiss lights him aflame. This is everything like their kiss in the classroom, but there’s an undeniable heat to it now that wasn’t there earlier.

The first kiss will always be special, but this means so much more to him because Emma didn’t run away. She’s seeking more of him.

His hand moves up her stomach to run across the lace of her bra, and he smirks into her kiss because he knows that she put this on specifically for him. Emma gasps when his fingers flick the material down so that his hands come into contact with a quickly hardening nipple while his tongue sweeps into her mouth in a warm slide that has every hair on his body standing at attention.

Emma’s tongue is sinful, her body even more so, and Killian is so damn distracted by the way that she feels against him and in his hand that he doesn’t even notice that she’s started to unbutton his shirt until sharp nails are scratching against his skin.

“Eager, are we?” he growls as his lips make a swift detour down her neck to kiss skin he hasn’t gotten a chance to taste yet.

“Are you complaining?”

“You’ll not find me complaining about one moment of tonight.”

Emma chuckles as she cranes her neck to the side so that he can continue to devour her skin. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’re always complaining about something.”

He flicks her peaked bud and scratches his beard along her flesh. “That’s because I didn’t have you in my arms.”

“Cheesy.”

“I’ve heard you like cheese.”

Killian is sure that she rolls her eyes, but he doesn’t see that because he’s kissing her again and trying to back her up to the bedroom. The apartment is the exact same layout as his, so he knows the way down the hallway. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t nearly trip over Emma’s shoes or hit his hip against a hallway table, and they definitely stop against several different walls to continue devouring each other as well as undress the clothes from their bodies.

Though, he does rather wish he could see Emma in black lace for a little longer, but seeing her bare of everything but gooseflesh is much, much better.

She’s stunning with her toned muscles and creamy skin that seems to stretch on for miles, and he tells her so as his lips map her skin, leaving his mark against her while arousal continues to stir within him, his cock hardening at every little gasp and breathy moan that Emma elicits.

This woman has been one of his dearest friends for years now. How did he ever got so lucky to be able to drag the whiskers of his beard across the sensitive skin of her thighs while her fingers grab onto his hair in an attempt to move him to the slick flesh where he knows that she wants him.

She wants him.

Emma Swan is currently writhing on her bed unable to string more than a few words together because she wants him and is incredibly turned on by the things that he’s doing to her body.

Smirking, Killian bites down on Emma’s inner thigh before dragging his nose along her skin and breathing out over her folds before slowly flicking his tongue against her clit. Her grip tightens in his hair while her other hand bunches into the sheets, and Killian is pleasantly surprised by the way that she cants her hips up into him. The attraction between them is undeniable, the passion hard to tamper down, but they are also new to each other. He doesn’t know what makes Emma tick, but he’s extremely eager to learn. Slowly, tenderly, carefully Killian kisses her and shows her just how much that he cares about bringing her the pleasure that she’s finding at his touch.

At her instruction, Killian flattens his tongue and drags it against her once, twice, three times before dipping it into her entrance so that she moans in response. Killian looks up at her then through his eyelashes and sees the crane of Emma’s neck against the expanse of her body, and he smirks into her folds before continuing his efforts to continue to make her writhe. When he slides a finger into her, then another, the moan that Emma lets out is downright dirty, and he can barely breathe when she hooks her ankles around his shoulders and tugs him closer to her while she starts to pant and his own breath gets a little short.

“Like that,” she gasps out, and the sound of her voice goes straight to his straining length that’s pressing into the mattress. “Oh, fuck, just like that.”

It’s the most she’s said in minutes, and he takes the instruction in stride, sucking on her clit and curling his fingers inside of her just like he was until she’s crying out every curse he’s ever known and thrusting her hips into the air while her heels dig into his shoulders. It’s one of the most glorious sights he’s ever seen, and Killian fully intends to spend his entire weekend seeing her make faces similar to that over and over again.

“Glorious,” he promises her as he begins to move up her body, peppering kisses across every inch of skin that he can reach, focusing on her breasts for a few moments before bracing his hands on either side of her head and slowly gliding his mouth over hers, lazily kissing her as she still basks in the glory of her orgasm. “You’re simply glorious.”

Emma sighs as her hand wrap around his neck, and he can still feel her smile in the kiss. “You are not so bad yourself. I think I’m going to have to have you do that again.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“And mine, obviously.”

A chuckle passes through her lips as he kisses her again, swirling his tongue around hers in a dance that resembles their waltz. He’s leading, but Emma is perfectly capable of doing that on her own. He almost wants her to.

And she does when her hand reaches down between him and grabs onto his cock, her touch absolutely electrifying, and he loses any and all sense that he has as he hisses into her shoulder.

“Bloody fuck.”

“You are so British.”

“I never, ah – I never…shit, Swan.”

“You never what?” she teases as her hand continues to move up and down his shaft.

“I never claimed to be otherwise. Do you have condoms?”

“Did you not bring any?”

“I did, but they’re wherever my pants are and I don’t really feel like going to find them.”

Emma laughs, and the sound is as pleasant as it always is, before she’s releasing him and leaning over to her bedside drawer to bring out the foil package. Every bit of him is on edge right now, the ache of not having a release building in the base of his spine, and he nearly loses himself when she rolls the protection down him. It’s all he can do from there to position himself on his knees and take hold of her legs, pushing them back against her chest while he slowly guides himself into her in a thick slide. She’s warm and mesmerizing and every other wonderful adjective that his brain is able to conjure up.

Funny thing, he can’t seem to think of many adjectives right now.

She’s rendered him absolutely speechless once more. The way she feels around him is magnificent, and he could stay slowly rocking with her like this for hours. It’s why, no matter how desperate he is, his pace is deliberately unhurried as the pressure slowly mounts between them. He wants Emma to feel good in this, to find her own bliss once more, and her weak, pleasured cries make him think that she is.

Killian’s hand finds where they’re joined as his eyes do the same, watching himself move in and out of Emma in what has to be one of the most erotic sights he’s ever seen, and her whimpers get louder which each flick of his finger while her moans become more frequent when he shifts over her so that his thrusts can be deeper and the hair on his chest brushes over her nipples while sweat glistens off of Emma’s forehead.

It’s overwhelming, being with her, and this is only the first time. Killian cannot even begin to imagine the road that they have in front of them, but a grin spreads across his lips at simply the thought of it.

This isn’t going to be a one-time thing, and he fully intends on falling in love with Emma.

If he’s not already there.

Emma trembles beneath him as her nails scratch down his back, and the contracting of her walls around him has Killian following soon after Emma and spilling himself inside of her with mangled grunts and groans and a declaration that is so close to love that it causes him to bite down on his own tongue and bury his face in the crook of Emma’s neck while he falls down on top of her, trying not to let his entire weight press onto her body even if the exertion has taken all of the energy out of him.

“So,” Emma mumbles as her nails softly drag across his back instead of scratching into his skin, “as well as you avoiding me seems to have worked out for us to get here, please don’t ever do it again.”

“No, Swan,” Killian laughs, kissing her collarbone before propping himself up and looking at her and the completely disheveled look of her hair, “I don’t think I will. I rather like you too much for that.”

“Good.”

Emma’s stomach rumbles then, this loud, unattractive noise, and Killian rolls off of her with a laugh as he reaches down and removes his condom to tie it up, quickly getting up from the bed to throw it away in the bin. “You hungry, love?”

She sprawls out on the mattress, something he guesses that she’s used to doing, and the goofy, sated smile on her face is one of the most glorious things he’s ever seen.

Killian seems to be thinking that a lot tonight.

“I’m absolutely starving. We worked up quite the appetite. That’s why you have sex before dinner. And then afterward you can talk about ways to improve while stuffing your face with lasagna.”

Killian barks out a laugh as he reaches down to pull up his boxers and toss Emma’s robe at her. “I like the way you think. C’mon, love, let’s go eat. You promised to court me.”

“That I did.”

Nothing really changes between the two of them. Sure, there are kisses exchanged and Killian can take her against the kitchen counter if he wants to (he does want to, and they do fulfill that want), but mostly it’s the same. They still talk and laugh and tease each other until the other gets angry. It’s exactly what he wants, what Emma wants too, and every fear that he has had about them doing this seems to be unfounded.

At least if the first night is any indication.

And the next two nights.

They spend the entire weekend holed away in Emma’s apartment, only leaving so Killian can go down one floor to get his clothes from his own place, and making love to Emma while the snow falls outside and laughter passes between them is a memory that will forever be etched into his mind.

He owes Rob quite possibly the biggest gift basket in the world for taking over his dorm duties.

Eventually Monday does roll around, their weekend between the sheets ending, but there are promises for it to happen again and again and quite possibly as much as possible. Being stuck at a boarding school and living so close together gives them a great chance for dating and figuring this whole thing out.

Secretly, of course. It’s still new and fresh, and Killian doesn’t want anything to come between them until they are settled in this thing.

“Happy Monday,” Killian sighs as he walks into his fifth period Calculus class after lunch Monday morning. All of his classes have been weirdly distracted today, and he’s hoping that this period actually pays attention. “Did everyone have a good weekend?”

There’s a quiet murmur with several answers of yes and a few of no, but then things get oddly quiet when he settles down at his desk and logs into the computer to take attendance. Curious, Killian looks up and sees that every single student is staring at him with absolutely giddy looks on their faces.

“What?” he questions as his brows furrow. They’re still silent with their creepy grins, so he asks again. “What? Someone tell me what’s going on.”

They all seem to look at each other as if they’re debating whether or not to actually tell him what’s on their minds, and a shiver runs down his spine.

Then Caroline Abbott speaks up. “We know that you spent the weekend in Ms. Swan’s apartment. Congratulations! You guys are finally together!”

Killian doesn’t even get a chance to protest, to lie and tell his students that they’re wrong. He doesn’t know how they know, but they do. The rumor mills around here never seem to stop, and this time they certainly didn’t get their facts wrong.

Warmth rushes to his cheeks, blush painting them, and Killian never does get control of his class that day. They’re simply too excited that he and Emma are finally together.

They’ve got to get cable and internet in the dorms. His students should not be this invested in his personal life.

Then again, it’s nice when the entire school hosts a party for he and Emma when they get engaged the next year.

Of course, neither of them has to announce the engagement because somehow everyone already knows.

They’ve really got to get their own place.

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

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