From the prompt: We were having a fun games night with our friends but now everyone's left your flat apart from me because we've played twenty games of connect 4 and still haven't managed to find a winner and gdi I will beat you.

The tabletop was cool against her forehead when Emma banged her head against it once, twice, three times. "You've got to be kidding me," she groaned. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

The sound of the plastic chips hitting each other as they were released from the grid were starting to become far too familiar. Turning her head so that her cheek was pressed against the table, she watched as Killian started to separate the two colours. His cheeks were looking as pink as hers felt, and she wondered whether he was feeling as tipsy as she was. Tipsy wasn't drunk, though, and - "If I have to play one more round of this stupid game then I at least need another drink."

Pushing herself to her feet, Emma made her way over to the fridge and felt her heart sink when she didn't see anything except for soda and leftover pizza. "There's no more beer left," she called out, closing the fridge door and looking around the kitchen. Everyone else had left half an hour ago, but surely someone must have left something behind.

Catching the time on the microwave, Emma suppressed another groan. Make that over an hour. She should have been gone an hour ago too, but the two of them had been neck and neck in every game that they'd played throughout the night, from Uno to Articulate to Pictionary (although how anyone had guessed that his drawing was a pirate ship was beyond her). Killian had seemed as determined to find a winner as she was if his promises to Mary Margaret that he'd get her home safe once they were done as he was pushing her out the door was anything to go by.

The fact that she only lived three apartments down made his promises slightly less meaningful, but the thought was there.

Her only thought right now, however, was getting another drink and winning this stupid, stupid game. Connect Four was probably the simplest game in their combined collections, but she'd loved the novelty of it at the time. Now - not so much. They'd agreed at the start that the winner had to be up by two for the win to count since they'd been so close all night, which she was now realising was the stupidest thing that she'd done in her life. The score was ten-eleven to Killian, and there hadn't been a larger difference than that since they started.

Turning around, she started when she saw Killian leaning against the doorframe. His lips twitched into a smirk, and she had to focus to keep her face straight instead of smiling back at him in return. Yes this was stupid, and yes she was determined to win, but she couldn't deny that spending time with him always made her feel good.

It took her a few seconds to realise that not only hadn't he said anything but they were also staring at each other, and she shifted on her feet, glancing away. It was only for a second, but it broke the moment. Killian raised his hand, and for the first time she noticed the half empty bottle he held in it. He raised his eyebrow challengingly. "Tequila?"

Oh God, this isn't going to end well.

She didn't let herself think further than that. Pushing herself away from the counter, she grabbed the bottle out of his hand and led him back to the dining table. "Let's get this stupid game over with."

He hadn't grabbed any glasses but Emma was past caring, taking a swig directly from the bottle instead. Killian took it from her before she could set it down, taking a drink himself as he sat himself back across from her. He'd organized their tokens while she'd been in the kitchen, the yellow ones on his side of the table and the red ones in a neat little line in front of her. Picking up one of the pieces, she rolled it between her fingers, considering. She could lose on purpose. She could, if she wanted to, for the sake of calling it a night, for the sake of being able to crawl into her bed sometime soon, for the sake of her sanity.

But she really, really wanted to win.

Gathering her determination, she dropped her token down the middle row.

"It was great to see your friend Elsa settling in a bit more," Killian said as he played his turn. She didn't miss the return of his knowing smirk, and she knew exactly why he wore it.

"I'm sure it helped that your brother was so welcoming," she said pointedly, grinning when he waggled his eyebrows at her. "He barely left her side all night. Was that why you told me to invite her?"

The affronted look he adopted would have looked far more convincing if he'd stopped smirking at her. "That's not the only reason," he insisted. "She seems like a fun lass."

"Whatever," she said, hoping she pulled off offended better than he had. "That's the only reason you even invited me too, wasn't it? To set your brother up with my friends?"

Killian scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous," he said, reaching for the tequila. "There's no game night without you, Swan."

The sudden sincerity in his voice had her smile softening before she could stop herself, and she snatched the bottle from his hand, taking a large gulp. She had less control over the blush in her cheeks whenever he said something like that (harmless flirting, he'd been doing it for years, why would it mean anything now), but she also needed the liquid courage to get her through the rest of this ridiculously drawn out challenge.

Being in love with one of your best friends wasn't easy, especially when he had no idea of the fact. Sometimes she forgot as well until he looked at her like this, his eyes full of warmth and laughter.

Squashing down her feelings (and stomping on them for good measure), Emma took another drink. "Of course there's not," she said, focusing hard on her next move. "Since I organise the damn things."

"I am glad that they seemed to hit it off, though," Killian added. "We've been here for a good few years now and if he's had any ladyloves in his life then he's done well at hiding it from me."

"Yeah, because it's far more likely that he's been alone for years than he just didn't want you to know who he's sleeping with," Emma said dryly.

"Well there's no chance of that anymore now that he's got his eye set on Elsa." Killian dropped his piece, the plastic clicking against plastic as it fell into place. "As long as she doesn't start gossiping about all sorts of things I don't want to -"

"Wait," Emma said quietly. She frowned at the grid, narrowing her eyes against the alcohol and the doubt. Killian stopped, and after a few seconds she leaned forward, looking up at him with confusion. "You could've won."

Both of his eyebrows shot up then drew back down again, before one arched higher far too casually. "Pardon?"

Grabbing the grid, Emma tapped the three yellow tokens running diagonally in a row and then poked her finger through the empty space. "Why didn't you put your piece here?"

Killian stared blank faced at the grid for just a little too long before he huffed in frustration. "Bloody hell. I must have missed it, I was looking at these," he said, gesturing to where two yellow pieces were lined up on the other side of the grid. "It's all right, I'm sure I'll come back for the win. Your turn."

Emma didn't take her turn. Ignoring the confidence in his words, she pushed the game to the side, watching him careful from across the table. "You were going to let me win." It was the only thing she could think of, because there was no way that he'd actually missed that diagonal row. And the quick look of something that kept flashing across his face was enough to convince her. "You were, weren't you? If I'd won this round we'd be back at even scores. Don't you want to win?"

Pulling his lip between his teeth, Killian nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, I do." He watched her for a few seconds before leaning back in his chair, his shoulders relaxing for the first time since she'd pointed out his lapse. "But once we have a winner, you're gonna go back to your apartment."

Narrowing her eyes at him to hide the sudden jumping in her chest, Emma pulled her hands back to her lap. "Everyone else left ages ago," she said carefully.

"But everyone else isn't who I wanted to stay."

And there it was, that intense look on his face that had been coming and going for the last few minutes, right there for her to see. His face softened, his eyes warming, and Emma had to swallow hard against the answering lump in her throat. "Killian," she began, but she cut herself off when he reached forward, dropping a yellow chip into the place that she'd originally pointed out.

"I win," he said, his voice thick and heavy. "You're welcome to leave if you wish."

Emma blinked slowly, trying to slow down her racing mind. Did he really mean what she thought he meant? All he'd said was that he'd wanted her to stay more than anyone else, but that didn't mean... Did it mean...?

Screw this.

Screw this stupid not knowing, and screw every time she had to remind herself that they were just friends. Screw trying to meet other people when she couldn't get him out of her head, and screw pretending that he didn't mean everything to her. Pushing back her chair so forcefully that it scraped loudly across the floor, she stood up quickly, thankful that the room didn't spin as she did so - at least the tequila wasn't going to her head. Killian's face fell as she started moving but she didn't bother to correct him, instead using his apparent disappointment that she was leaving as courage to show him what she thought

If I'm reading this wrong I'll never be able to show my face again.

Stopping in front of him, she bent forward, cupping her hand around the back of his head and pressing her mouth to his.

His lips were soft beneath hers, his stubble scratching at her cheek, and she thought for one terrified moment that he wasn't going to kiss her back. Thinking that she'd made an absolute fool of herself, she pulled back, looking down at him with wide eyes, but before she could get far he grabbed her arm and pulled her back, capturing her lips with an eagerness that she'd only ever hoped for. Her gasp of surprise was swallowed up as his lips parted hers, his hand sliding up her arm to curl around the back of her neck and pull her closer.

He tastes like tequila, she thought for one quick moment before she realised both that she probably did too, and also that she didn't care. Leaning into him, she kissed him with all of the pent up longing that she'd felt, all of the frustration and elation and desire that she'd known since before she'd realised how she felt about him, every tiny part of want that she could muster. His other arm came around her waist and she wasn't sure whether he pulled or she pushed, but the next moment she'd fallen into his lap, their torsos pressed tightly together.

By the time she pulled back she was out of breath, but at least she wasn't the only one. Killian's forehead pressed against hers, his face so close that it hurt her eyes to try and focus on him so she just closed them instead.

Killian's arm slid around her shoulders and he pulled her further into him. Pressing her face against the warm skin of his neck, she breathed him in, savouring this moment because it surely wasn't going to last, he was going to ask her to leave, he was going to -

"I've wanted to do that for years," he admitted, and she huffed a laugh, leaning further into him for a moment before pulling back, desperate to see his face.

It was more open than she'd ever seen it, his eyes bright, his smile wide. "Stay," he said softly, his voice filled with question and promise.

Tracing her fingers up along his jaw, over his ear and down the back of his neck, Emma grinned down at him, her heart full. Lifting her leg over his so she was straddling him, she kissed him again, slower this time, letting herself enjoy it thoroughly and pulling back when it started to get too heated. "Only if you'll give me a rematch," she joked, laughing when his hands settled on her lower back and pressed her further into him.

"In the morning," he promised, pulling her lips down to his again.

In the morning. She liked the sound of that.