Emma had just put her dinner together and sat down on her couch with a nice glass of red wine, and Netflix ready to go. The upside to working in a small private practice was for the first time since attending college, Emma Swan had a somewhat normal schedule. It allowed her peaceful evenings to herself to do what she pleased. Tonight she'd been home from another long day for a mere half an hour and was beyond ready to relax.

"Swan!"

"I should have turned off the goddamn lights," she muttered.

"Swaaaan!" the interloper persisted, pounding on her door again.

The downside meant a certain pesky neighbor soliciting free medical advice on the regular. Rolling her eyes, she put the television remote and her glass of wine on the coffee table, knowing he wasn't going to let up.

It wasn't that she couldn't be neighborly, but Killian Jones was a menace. The man was a hypochondriac of the worst kind - a fake hypochondriac - some new illness ailing him weekly. She flung her door open just as he was poised to knock again. The breeze it caused carried in his scent, and Emma was olfactorily assaulted by just one of the real reasons Killian Jones drove her crazy. The next havoc he wreaked on her was the sight waiting before her. Killian Jones, shirtless… again, gingerly propped up against the frame of her door. Last time he'd shown up shirtless he'd insisted that a tiny mosquito bite on his back was a case of the shingles. She wondered if his shirtless visits were nothing more than a chance for him to flaunt his altogether delicious chest: just the right amount of definition and muscle covered by taut skin that pulled as he gesticulated his every word, all overlaid with beautiful black chest hair that descended into a thin trail disappearing under the waistband of his pajama pants.

"Swan, thank the gods you're here, lass. I need medical assistance."

And therein was another assault on her senses, that goddamn accent. She could listen to him all day and all night. Sometimes she did listen to him in the middle of the night, when that bastard invaded her dreams.

Looking into his crystalline blue eyes as he spoke to her through perfectly shaped lips, Emma almost didn't hear his desperate plea for help. Goddammit, get ahold of yourself! "What is it this time, Jones?" Emma spoke casually, hoping he wouldn't see how he affected her.

"I seem to have to have a lump, right about here," he said, feeling himself up in her entryway. "Ah, there it is." He grabbed her hand and placed her fingers right above his nipple, then pressed her hand into his skin.

Well, this was one of the five senses he'd yet to affront. He felt delectable under her palm. Emma rolled her eyes at his smirk, trying to curtail the urge to slide her fingers through his chest hair, and maybe even tug on it a little. "I don't feel anything, Jones."

"That's because you're not hitting quite the right spot, love." As per usual his tone alluded to a carnality Emma found to be on her mind more than was probably healthy. He wrapped his hand around her wrist and slid it up a little further along his pectoral. He followed by placing his hand over hers, and kneading them over his warm flesh.

Emma's breath hitched at his maneuvering, damn him, she thought. "I still don't feel anything," she half accused and half groaned. Why was he doing this to her?

"Are you quite sure, Swan," he asked cheekily, eyebrow arching toward the heavens.

Two could play games. Emma pushed into his chest, then pinched him, hard. Ignoring his yelp, she continued to push him back farther. "That's your pectoralis minor muscle, I'm sure it feels the same on the opposite side."

"You should check just to be sure. Early detection is key," he pleaded, turning the pout in those baby blues up a notch.

She could feel a blush creeping up her neck again, she wanted to touch his chest more, she wanted to caress it and lick it and- "Your breasts are fine, if you're unhappy with my medical opinion you should probably see an oncologist. Good Night, Jones." She'd pushed him back far enough that she could close the door on his menacing ass.

"Fine Swan, but you'll regret it if you're the death of me!" he called through the door.

"Doubtful," she mumbled, sagging against her door; she could hear her own lie in her response. He looked, sounded, smelled, and felt perfect. The only frontier left unexplored was taste. Emma stomped her foot against the floor as her lusty mind betrayed her, she felt like flailing her arms about in frustration. Yes, Emma Swan was a highly frustrated young woman. There was always something wrong with them, she thought. Of her more serious relationships, one had been ready to get married a month into dating, one had bailed during a pregnancy scare, and the other just hadn't done anything for her, good man, just no chemistry.

After finishing her dinner and cleaning up, Emma turned on Netflix. She became increasingly resentful every time she realized she was thinking about him, and not watching her show. God he was hot though, and that accent did things to her insides. An uncontrollable shiver ran up her spine when she thought about how that chest hair would feel grazing across her breasts.

Killian had seemed to be the full package when she met him. Realizing she was moving in, he'd offered to help her by taking her few boxes of possessions up to her apartment. He had grinned widely when she pushed the elevator button to his floor. As she stopped to unlock the apartment next door to his he'd said, must be fate. He was intelligent, kind, could carry a conversation, and of course he was drop dead gorgeous.

She soon saw a different side of Killian Jones, the hypochondriac. Within her first month living next door he had insisted he was dying from overdosing on children's Tylenol, the idiot. Blathering on about being scared, and things he still needed to do in life. He'd wanted her to hold him in his final moments, the man was drama incarnate! She'd never forget the time he'd claimed a broken rib, coming straight from the park where he'd been playing football with friends; he'd shown up, dirty, sweaty, and looking all kinds of fuckable, and of course shirtless. She snorted when she thought of the time he'd wondered if he could have prostate issues...

"I believe I may have an enlarged prostate," he whispered.

"Why do you think that," she whispered back, looking out into the hallway to see if there was someone else around. "What's with all the cloak and dagger?"

"This is a sensitive matter, Swan, I'd have thought you would understand that."

"Oh, well yes, of course I understand."

He stood there looking at her, "Well are you going to invite me in or question me out here in the hallway?"

Opening the door, she swept her arm in a grand motion signaling for him to enter.

He sat down on her couch, looking around at her apartment. She felt like she was under a microscope, her sparse decor a little embarrassing.

"How is it a lass as pretty as yourself doesn't surround herself in the same beauty?" he asked.

Emma didn't know how to respond to that, she'd always sucked at receiving compliments. "Umm, I just haven't had much time to go out and buy home decor and shit."

"And shit?" he laughed heartily. "Darling, this is your domain, habitat, abode, your home. It should be everything you desire." He ran his tongue along his lower lip after practically purring the word desire.

Emma found herself staring at his mouth, wondering what that tongue might feel like running across her lower lip. No, Emma! Shaking away the errant thought, she went back to the matter at hand. "So what's going on with your prostate, Jones?"

For a moment he looked as though he hadn't the slightest clue what she was referring to before answering her. "I don't know, isn't that what you're supposed to figure out?" he smirked.

Emma narrowed her eyes, feeling as though he was issuing a challenge. "Ok, what symptoms are you having? Some of the most common would be the frequent urge to urinate, slow or impeded flow while urinating, and trouble achieving or maintaining an erection. Are you having trouble getting it up?" she asked point blank, staring at him with wide eyes. She mentally high fived herself. That ought to take him down a notch.

"I assure you I am having no issues achieving or maintaining anything," he answered in a slightly affronted tone. "The Captain always performs."

Maybe not, was there anything to take him down a notch? "Are you experiencing pressure? Perhaps you need your prostate milked?" she suggested. "I have gloves, are you allergic to latex?"

"Actually, I am feeling much better. I think I'll be just fine," he sputtered. He stood up, preparing to make his exit, she assumed.

"Oh, don't be afraid," Emma said sweetly, "it shouldn't hurt, many men find the sensation arousing." She couldn't believe herself. Was she taunting him? Teasing him? Flirting? The look on his face was so worth it though, somewhere between shock and well, she wasn't quite sure.

"I'll take your word for it, love." His hand was up behind his ear, rubbing nervously, and she found the motion endearing. "I think I'll take my leave now. Good night, Swan."

"Good night!" she replied in a sing song voice. She had felt a small sense of victory. It was always him making her uncomfortable, with his chest on display, and reasons she needed to touch him. She'd finally managed to get to him. An inkling in the back of her mind asked just what game they were playing, but she stuffed it to the far recesses of thought, trying to bask in her victory.

"Fuck," she muttered, turning off her show, and slamming the remote next to her. Taking a deep drink of her wine, she wished not for the first time that Killian was not her neighbor, but rather some guy in a bar that she could have her way with, and never see again. One simply did not fuck one's neighbor though. She was pretty sure she read that in the Miss Manners column... or was it Dear Abby?

After a restless night's sleep filled with dreams of a cocky, blue eyed pest, Emma finally resolved herself to the fact that there was no more sleep to be had. Looking at her bedside clock she noted that it was only a quarter past seven. Just one more thing she could blame on him. Fucking sleep disturbing asshole.

She got out of bed, threw her hair into a ponytail, and got dressed to take a jog. Nothing like a brisk morning run to clear her mind, blow off steam, and get those endorphins flowing. Putting in her earbuds she headed for the elevator. Pressing the down arrow and humming the melody pumping into her ears, she began to stretch, reaching her joined hands first skyward, than behind her to open up her chest. The elevator doors opened, Emma hopped in and selected ground level. Placing one hand on the back wall of the elevator, she reached behind her and grabbed her foot to stretch out her hamstring, switching to the other she jumped when the elevator finally lurched to life. Standing tall she rotated her torso stretching her back and shoulders. Finally she bent at the waist reaching for her toes, giving her legs one final stretch.

When the elevator came to a halt she turned around to exit and walked straight into a wall of man. A fucking cocky blue eyed man. His hands had shot around her waist, steadying her as she stumbled backward. Her eyes narrowed in anger as she focused on his face to see a fully entertained expression.

"That's quite the routine you have there, darling, care to demonstrate for me? I'd hate to pull a muscle."

Emma's mouth dropped open. He was shameless. Slapping at his hands she brushed past him to exit the elevator. "You won't be laughing when you're in pain because you didn't prepare properly," she huffed as she headed for the building exit. As soon as she hit the street she set a brisk walking pace, focusing on her music and the simplistic purity of an early morning run. Before she knew it that show off was breezing by her. That ass had the nerve to turn around and blow her a kiss as he jogged backwards. She scowled at him and silently wished he would trip, but more so she wished he didn't bring out her inner two year old. He turned back around and picked up his pace. Normally, Emma would walk the first block to warm up a little, but she was not going to let Jones beat her in a foot race. Stepping it up she was keeping pace with him in no time.

"So kind of you to join me, Swan," he smiled as if he'd won a prize.

She rolled her eyes as she picked up her pace again, leaving him behind. Smiling to herself, she felt a smug sense of accomplishment. She'd been ahead of him for several minutes now, wondering where he was, she chanced a glance behind her. "What the-" He'd disappeared. Perhaps he'd given up; for some untold reason that didn't sit well with Emma. Before she had a moment more to dwell on it, that bastard popped up 30 feet in front of her, now shirtless. "Goddammit," she cursed, wiping the sweat that was dripping down her brow.

"What are you doing way back there, love?" he called out as he annoyingly jogged backwards again while waving to her.

Growling, she broke into a semi sprint to catch up to him. "Shortcuts will get you nowhere in life, Jones," she scolded, noting his soaked t-shirt now hanging from the waistband of his shorts.

He just chuckled at her indignant tone, infuriating her even more. That was how they found themselves in a full on sprint around the local park and back home. As they reached the entrance to the building Emma began to stretch once more, the last thing she needed was to be cramping up for the rest of the weekend. She ignored the shiver that shot through her body as he watched her unabashedly.

"Good form, Swan," he complimented in a reverent tone.

"You should stretch too or you'll be in pain tomorrow," she recommended as they stepped into the elevator.

"I've been doing this long enough to know what my body can take, I'll be just fine, but your concern for my safety and well-being is touching."

Emma was zoned out, temporarily entranced by the way his tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip. The final frontier, tasting Jones. She realized he had ceased talking and was smirking at her again. "Yeah, I mean...umm, what?" she asked.

"I said your concern for my safety and well-being is touching," he repeated slowly, emphasizing his last word. "Wherever did you go, Swan?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Perhaps I would," he answered with a tinge of hope in his voice.

The elevator doors opened and Emma quickly exited, needing to get away from this exasperating man. "See you later," she said as she ducked inside her apartment.

Yep, he was an absolute menace, this run had the opposite result of what she'd hoped for. Envisioning the way the sweat glistened upon his body in the morning sun, and remembering the way his muscles and tendons had worked powerfully under his skin, Emma felt that telltale weightless sensation rush through her lower regions. That sensation that only ever ended with Emma satisfying herself and his name on her lips. She groaned as her nipples hardened and her clit began to ache, her panties were as damp as her sweat laden clothes. "Fuck you," she muttered to her body's betrayal.

Walking quickly to her bedroom she stripped all of her clothes off and spread herself out on her bed. She could hear Killian's shower running through her bedroom wall, and the thought of hot water cascading down his body only served to fuel her desperation. Emma brought her hand down to her entrance and ran her fingers through her wetness, whimpering out of sheer need. Stroking her fingers back up, she gently rubbed small tight circles against her clit. The smooth wet glide and the sounds of flesh against flesh worked her higher, her breathing coming in short pants as she pinched lightly at her nipples with her free hand. That's when she heard it, or rather heard him. She froze, listening for that long drawn out moan again. Sweet mercy, there it was again, Emma began petting herself, new arousal coating her fingers, and fuck if this wasn't the hottest thing she could remember in forever. Just the thought of him, cock in hand stroking furiously had her walls fluttering. She was almost there, when he grunted followed by a small shout, she plunged her fingers inside her slippery channel grinding down on her palm. It took just three little thrusts to bring her off, whispering his name over and over again. She struggled to catch her breath, and her hearing was hollowed in one ear. Goddamn that was good, she mused as bliss continued to thrill through her body. These were the endorphins she'd hoped to release with this morning's run. Guess all it took was some self love, she thought. Emma's body felt boneless as she lay relaxed and sated on her bed deciding if she should shower or just bask in the comfort. She'd had her eyes closed for two or three minutes when there was an incessant knocking at her door. She decided to ignore it, she wasn't expecting anyone on this now decidedly glorious Saturday morning.

"Swan, please, please, please, open the door," Killian pleaded.

"Oh fuck!" Emma panicked jumping off her bed. Scurrying to her bathroom she washed her hands thoroughly, threw on her bathrobe and tried to smooth out her hair. She splashed some water on her face to try and cool herself off, hoping the flush would fade, like immediately. Fuck he's going to know what I was doing!

"Love, please," he called out.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming!" The unintentional pun was not lost on her, and she was sure she'd just pinked to another level. Shit! Will he be able to tell by looking at me?

She opened the door slightly and peeked out at his once again shirtless form. "What?"

"Lovely to see you too, darling," he grumbled. "I need your help, please let me in."

"I can't right now, I need to shower," she told him, not opening the door any further.

"I need you to relieve this muscular discomfort I'm experiencing."

Emma's eyes widened comically, hadn't he just relieved his own discomfort? "You can take care of that yourself," she said as she attempted to close the door.

"Emma, please," he spoke seriously.

She was shocked to hear her actual name come from his mouth, he never used her name. It was always Swan, or some endearment that would've made her cringe if anyone else said it.

"Okay, come in."

"I can hardly walk, would you mind helping me?"

Before she could answer he threw his arm around her shoulder and balanced his weight between her and his right leg. As they hobbled over to the couch she noticed he was not putting any weight on his left leg.

Emma laughed as she realized that her poor stubborn neighbor had a leg cramp. "Told you to stretch," she chuckled.

"Now is not the time for 'I told you so's' love. I almost died."

Emma burst into full on laughter, "Calf cramps don't kill, you're such a dork!" She bent over him helping him to sit down on the couch. She tensed when she heard him inhaling deeply at her neck. Oh fuck, will he be able to tell by smelling me?

Killian narrowed his eyes. "It wasn't the cramp that almost killed me. You see, I was in the shower when suddenly this cramp attacked me, almost causing me to fall. Who knows what could've happened had I hit my head, or broken my neck or..."

Oh. Dear. God. Emma didn't hear another word as she blankly sat down at the foot of the couch. Had she really just masturbated to the sounds of her neighbor's extremely painful leg cramp? She wanted to hide, be swallowed into the cushions of her couch, dissipate into thin air, something, anything to not be right here, right now.

"Paging Dr. Swan!"

"Oh, sorry. I ummm, okay what do you want me to do?" she asked out of sheer guilt. Not that he knew... but she knew.

"Oh, plenty darling," he smirked.

"Be serious!" she chided, slapping his leg.

"Oi! That hurt," he hissed. "For starters how about you don't hit the patient. Then, could you please use those magical healing hands of yours to massage this cramp away?" he finished sweetly.

Emma looked down at his calf. It really was a doozy of a cramp, she could see the muscle contracting under his skin.

"I don't mind you staring at me Swan, but I don't think it's going to help. Perhaps you could massage and stare?" he suggested.

Emma huffed out a deep sigh and walked away.

"Alright, just the massage then, lass?"

She returned a moment later with a white tube and a pair of gloves.

"I thought we already agreed that I do not need my prostate milked, are you really so anxious?"

Emma didn't know whether to laugh or slap him again. "Shut up," she said lightly, "it's Arnicare, it'll help soothe the ache after it has been massaged in well." She began to put on the gloves.

"No gloves, I'm allergic to latex."

"Of course you are," Emma rolled her eyes. He probably said that to all the girls.

Squeezing a small amount of the gel onto her palms she rubbed it around and then set to work on Killian's calf. She wondered how many places she would get to touch Killian Jones without touching him where she actually wanted to. Head out of the gutter, Emma! She delicately smoothed along the contracting muscle, she could feel as it started to relax a bit. Then she set to work massaging it away.

He moaned as she worked the area, "Gods that feels amazing, darling" he mumbled.

Her eyes went wide, for Christ's sake that was the same noise he made in the shower. Pain and pleasure sounded the same when elicited from this man's mouth. She worked the area for a few minutes more increasing pressure slightly until the knot was no longer present. Getting up from the couch she walked to her kitchen to wash her hands, then dug around in her cupboards for a heating pack.

"Heat this up and apply it to your calf for about twenty minutes. It might hurt over the next couple days because it was pulling quite tightly. Just rotate ice and heat, take Ibuprofen if you need to. For my sake, please read the bottle, I wouldn't want you to risk overdosing on over the counter pain relievers again." She giggled at his huff of annoyance, and maybe chagrin. "See you later Jones, I gotta shower."

"Can I be of assistance to you, Swan, it's only fair I return the favor you know. Love Thy Neighbor and all that," he winked as he tossed out his suggestive offer.

"I think I can handle it on my own." Emma rolled her eyes, escorting him to the door. If she rolled her eyes anymore at this man, they might truly get stuck that way.

"Oh, I'm quite sure you can handle a great many things all on your own, love," he said, looking her up and down as he ran that goddamn tongue over his bottom lip.

Emma turned what she could only assume was a Guinness Record breaking shade of red, before she pushed him out the door and slammed it shut. He fucking knew.

Emma was relieved when she didn't see Killian for a couple days. She needed some time to pretend that he did not know about her Saturday morning solo delight.

Almost a week had passed when she finally heard from him, it was well into her evening when a knock sounded. She was more excited at the prospect of seeing him than she wanted to be.

"I am freezing cold, feel me."

"Well put on a goddamn shirt to start with," she said, rolling her eyes at having to voice the most obvious solution.

"I can't stop shaking. I feel weak, and I am freezing." He stepped toward her, grasping her hand and placing it on his cheek. "See, I'm dying aren't I? What is it? Malaria? The Red Death? The Black Plague?" Killian's voice became more dramatic as he ticked off his ridiculous diagnoses.

"Easy tiger, unless you've been traveling out of the country, time traveling to the 14th century, or you're a storybook character from the mind of Edgar Allen Poe, I think we can safely rule out all of the above." He's from a book alright, straight off the cover a Harlequin romance novel, she thought. Emma realized her hand was still on his cheek and pulled it back, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. She prayed for him not to notice.

"Swan! I am contagious, you're flush darling, I've already infected you!" He bit his bottom lip in feigned alarm. The bastard knew.

Emma rolled her eyes, and walked back inside her apartment. Heading to her kitchen she grabbed the bottle of Tylenol, then walked back to the door where he was waiting patiently. "Here, take two of these-

"And call you in the morning," he interrupted cheekily.

She couldn't stop the giggle before it was out of her mouth. What the fuck! she thought, I am not a babbling schoolgirl, I am a grown ass woman. A doctor for fuck's sake. "Take two of these and you'll be good as new. In fact take the bottle, and take two pills every 4 to 6 hours. If your fever doesn't break after 24 hours you should see a doctor."

"That's what I am attempting to do. You are a doctor aren't you?"

Emma couldn't argue that logic, she supposed she could write him a script if he had something more serious than the common cold. "Fine, let me know if you don't feel better." She couldn't believe the words as they left her mouth, yet she couldn't deny him her help.

"Aye, Doctor Swan. Thank you for saving my life yet again," he told her, grabbing her hand to place a gentle kiss to her knuckles.

Later that evening she laid in bed letting her mind wander, somehow she just knew that the medicine was not going to help, he would be back. He always came back. She could still feel the tingling of his manicured-to- perfection beard on the palm of her hand, and she imagined what that tingling would feel like between her thighs.

She desperately needed to figure out what was going on. She already knew he wasn't really a hypochondriac. Did he just enjoy annoying her? Was he teasing her? Flirting? Emma didn't do long term, so the very thought of him playing the long game was a little intimidating, but she also didn't hate his antics. She was confused, that was the only thing that was clear. She decided when he came back, because he was magically not cured, she would address this thing going on between them.

When he didn't come back the next day, she was a little disappointed that he hadn't needed her again, and a lot disappointed that she felt disappointment. No attachments, no roots, look out for yourself and you'll never get hurt, right? she asked herself. Perhaps he actually did just need the Tylenol, and there was no ulterior motive this time. By the afternoon of the second day she decided she couldn't wait anymore, anticipation and nerves were eating at her, she needed to address their situation, or whatever it was.

She knocked on his door and waited, when he didn't answer she decided to take a page out of his book and pounded impatiently, calling his name through the door. The sight that greeted her was not at all what she expected. Killian was covered head to toe, including a plaid robe, and a huge fuzzy blanket wrapped around his head and body, all she could see was his face. His eyes were glossy, his nose was swollen and red, and his lips were very pale.

"Killian, what happened? What's wrong."

"I did not get better doctor. I was planning to inform you, but I haven't felt up to leaving my bed." His voice was hoarse and he grimaced as he brought his hand up to massage his throat. "It hurts a bit to talk, but I must tell you it is like hearing angels sing to hear you say my name," he whispered.

"What?"

"You've never called me by my first name, lass."

She rolled her eyes, "You never call me by my first name either, but that's beside the point right now. I told you to go to the doctor if the fever wasn't gone after 24 hours!"

"I haven't left my bed, Emma. It is only your voice that made me drag my arse to the door. And I have in fact used your first name if we are debating the topic."

She blushed at the emphasis he put on her name, as though it were a sacred word. One moment she was lost in his eyes, not knowing what to say, and the next moment he was swaying before her. She was able to catch him as he faded in and out of consciousness.

"Have you been taking any medicine? Have you been drinking enough fluids?" Emma asked as she put her hand to his forehead. "Oh shit, you're burning up!" She supported his weight as best she could and guided him to her apartment. She led him to her bed, and pulled the blankets back, helping him to lay down. She was directly over his chest when he wrapped his arms around her.

"This was a plausible excuse for grabbing me, but next time don't stand on ceremony. You could've had me in your bed ages ago, love."

"You're delirious, I'll be right back," she told him, not waiting for his rebuttal.

Gathering some washcloths, a bowl, a few bottles of water, and Nyquil, Emma headed back to her patient. She was unsurprised to see he was passed out, sprawled across the whole of her bed, mouth open, and snoring as only someone with a stuffy nose can. Sitting on the side of the bed, she took the opportunity to run her fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead.

"Not exactly how I pictured our first time in bed together," she mumbled.

He stirred a bit, his body restless, she didn't want to wake him but he needed fluids and something to take the fever down. "Killian," she said softly, she shook his arm a bit.

"What?" he whined. "Let me sleep, I am tired, cold, my head is pounding, and I hurt all over."

"That's why I need you to get up and take something for the fever, you'll feel so much better." She waved the foil package of liquid gel tabs invitingly.

He made for a comical sight still wrapped up like a peasant woman in the winter, as he struggled to sit up. "Fine." Petulance was cute on Killian Jones.

She handed him a bottle of water, "Drink up."

"Give me the bloody pills."

"Uh, just because you feel like shit doesn't mean you get to forego manners," she scolded him. "Drink first, you're dehydrated.

"Am not," he argued like a two year old before taking a long drink. "Apologies, give me the bloody pills, please."

She snorted at his crankiness, handing him the Nyquil. "Lay back down, your fever should break soon. You probably want to sleep through that."

"I would sleep much better if I had someone to cuddle me. Perhaps a massage again. You healed my cramp. I truly do hurt everywhere," he smirked, waggling those damn eyebrows.

"Cuddle with your blanket, Jones. You poor delirious dork."

He scoffed at her refusal, but was out moments later. Emma poured one of the water bottles into the bowl and sponged his head with a cool cloth. She freely admired every facet of his face without fear of being caught drooling. After making a quick call to her favorite nurse - August, to ask for a huge favor, she went to the kitchen to make some chicken noodle soup. Emma didn't like to brag, but she did love to cook, and would have gone to culinary school had healing people not been in her blood. Once she had everything simmering she went to go check on him.

"My beautiful Swan, there you are!" Killian said merrily when she peeked in on him.

She chuckled at his exuberance, "Someone is feeling better." She noticed he'd finally un-burrowed himself, having removed his blanket and pants. Why his pants? Too bad the robe is still on, Emma thought.

Patting the bed beside him quite vigorously he nodded her over, "Come on, love. I have discovered what ails me!"

Emma walked over to the bed and had a seat, "What's your diagnosis, Dr. Jones?"

"Ooh, like Indiana Jones?"

She just laughed at him again, "Okay, what's your diagnosis, Indiana Jones?"

"Lovesickness! I'm afraid I've no immunity to your charms, love."

Emma's eyes went wide, pink rising on her cheeks as she looked anywhere but at him. Focusing on her nightstand she suddenly noticed an object that she had not placed there. "What the fuck?" she held up the offending object.

"That's me rum flask," he said jovially, reaching for it.

Emma held it out of his reach. "What are you a pirate? And where did this come from?"

He patted the pocket of his robe proudly indicating where he'd been hiding his treasure. "Aye lass, and I've come to steal you away. 'Tis the only cure for my lovesickness," he said, serious as could be.

"You're not supposed to drink alcohol with Nyquil."

"Why on earth not?" he asked indignantly.

Emma narrowed her eyes at his tone, "Because I said so, and because Dextromethorphan and Ethanol don't mix well, the combination can make you loopy as fuck and say stupid shit!"

"Oooh, because you said so. Bossy little thing, you are," he teased.

"Be serious, this can be dangerous, how much did you drink?"

"I can't be serious, love. I am 'loopy as fuck and saying stupid shit'," he quoted her, affecting a perfect American accent.

"Goddammit, Killian, how much?"

"Two sips, I promise Dr. Swan," he said solemnly.

She was midway into a sigh of relief when he burst into song.

"I take two sips in the morning, I take two sips at night, I take two sips in the afternoon, it makes me feel alright, I take two sips in time of peace, and two in time of war, I take two sips before I take two sips, and then I take two more."

She stared at him, part of her wanted to crack up at his impromptu remake of Sublime's Smoke Two Joints, the other part wanted to call her nurse back and add syrup of Ipecac to the list, just to torture this idiot a little bit.

"You know Swan, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I am a full grown man."

Manchild, Emma thought.

"Every time I've come to you it was merely a ploy to garner your attentions, spend time in your vivacious presence."

His florid words were making her blush again, how could he be so ridiculous one moment, and sweeter than pie the next?

"I do know how much alcohol and Nyquil I can handle, love."

"You thought you were overdosing on children's Tylenol-"

"A thinly veiled attempt to speak to my beautiful neighbor," he cut her off, folding his arms over his chest.

Emma heard the knock on the door that she had been waiting for. "Okay Casanova, you wait here, I'll be back ."

"Casanova is but a boy. It's a man you need, Swan."

Rolling her eyes she went to the door. She'd called her nurse to pick up the things she needed for Killian once she'd realized he might have more than just a common cold.

"Thank you, August, I appreciate you running all this over," Emma told her nurse, and close friend, August Booth. "I don't think it's strep but I want to check, did you grab a test kit?"

"It's all in there, Emma," he assured her.

"Alright, thanks again, you're a lifesaver," she said, giving him a hug.

"Who is this?" Killian asked, now standing in the hallway.

"I told you I'd be right back," she sighed. "August, this is my neighbor, Killian. Killian this is-"

"Aye, I'm your neighbor, he's your August. Perhaps I should be gathering my things. Apologies mate, I didn't realize-"

"This is August, my colleague," Emma finished raising her voice above Killian's.

"Pretty, British, and polite? He's a keeper, girlfriend," August winked at Emma. "Dr. Blanchard and Dr. Nolan said they'd split your patients tomorrow. They want you to take the day off, make a long weekend out of it and … I believe they said, play doctor with your hot neighbor."

Killian's eyes lit up like Times Square on New Year's Eve. "So you've heard of me?" he asked smugly.

Emma's eyes went from deer caught in headlights to evil eye as she silently forbade August to admit she'd spilled her hot neighbor stories.

Killian looked between them, one eyebrow raised in question, one side of his bottom lip bit between his teeth, "Come on August, 'fess up mate."

August dramatically locked his lips and threw away the key, right before he winked at Killian and nodded his head vigorously.

"I knew it!" Killian claimed in a more than triumphant tone.

Emma gasped in outrage. "We've been friends since… like forever, August Booth! You're on shit detail as soon as I walk into the office Monday morning."

August bent down as if searching for something, finding his imaginary key he unlocked his lips and asked, "So you'll take tomorrow off to play doctor then?"

"Ooh, I like him, Swan. Very quick on the uptake."

Ignoring Killian, Emma put her hands on her hips and scowled at August. "Seriously? Just go, I'll see you Monday."

"Yes! Your brother owes me twenty bucks. He said you had no interest in making nice with Tall, Hot, and British over here. Blanchard and I said-"

"Oh my god, August, just go! Now, or I'll make it two weeks on shit detail!"

"Fine… Mary Margaret was right, you need a good-"

"Don't fucking say it!" she yelled.

With that August took his leave, hightailing it out the door before Emma literally kicked his ass through it.

"So lass-"

"Go to your room… our roo-, my fucking room, and don't say another word," Emma told him without even looking in his direction.

"But what if I've mixed too much Ethernet and Dexterwhatsitcalled?"

"You'll be fine, just go," she said quietly.

Emma sat down defeatedly at her kitchen table. Outed by her best friend, her willpower and resolve bet against by her sister-in-law. August was surely on his way to rub it in David's face. Her own brother was going to know she was shacked up with Tall, Hot, and British. Before she could get too worked up her phone chimed with an incoming text.

AB: I did you a favor

ES: Et tu brute

AB: Now who's the drama queen?

AB: If it makes you feel better, there was no actual bet. It was an attempt to push you in the right direction. You talk about him all the time, you two are like kindergarteners. He may as well pull your pigtails while you kick his shin.

AB: Emma? Did you already run off to take his temperature? Orally or Rectally?

Emma couldn't help but snort at the text.

ES: Enough, you guys are forgiven. Now leave me alone. I have a patient to treat.

AB: Get it girl!

Emma got up from the table and walked toward her bedroom. She was a grown up and could admit her feelings. He'd admitted his. He might not remember, but maybe he would. When she peeked into her room she was somewhat relieved to see he was asleep again. Since he was snoring open mouthed again, she took the opportunity to swab his throat quickly to run the strep test. As she waited for the results she checked his vitals while he couldn't tout his innuendos about playing doctor with him. His temperature had come down, and his heart rate and blood pressure were perfect. The test came back negative, so he either had a bitch of a bad cold, or the flu; good thing she'd had her flu shot.

Emma went to get the rest of the supplies from the bag that August had delivered. She put together a tray for him with a bottle Pedialyte, water, cough drops, tylenol, kleenex, and Vick's rub, and put it on the nightstand next to him. Grabbing a sticky note she wrote him a quick message to drink the Pedialyte first, then water, and to wake her if he got hungry.

Emma woke the next morning to the smell of fresh brewed coffee and the sound of the shower running. Well if he was in the shower, he must feel a little better, right? she mused. She got up off the couch to pour herself a cup of coffee and realized then that it wasn't the shower but the washing machine running. Wondering what he was washing, she headed to her room. When she opened the door she noticed her bed was stripped bare, and that Killian was nowhere to be found. She felt her heart squeeze a little, and as she stared at her empty bedroom she mentally berated herself for every hope she'd entertained the night before.

"Emma-"

"Oh shit!" Emma yelped, clutching her heart. "You scared me to death," she yelled as she spun around on Killian. "It's rude to-" she stopped mid sentence as she took in her truly hot neighbor. His hair was still damp from the shower and hung down over his forehead. He was shirtless as usual, all lean cut muscle, and holy hot hell, all he wore was one of her thin pink towels wrapped around himself. She wanted to reach out and grab him by the waist, caress his hip bones with her thumbs as she clutched onto his sides; follow that thin dark trail of hair with her lips as low as he'd let her.

"To stare?"

"What?" she asked, still in a daze. She could only hope she wasn't drooling, because she had definitely been caught ogling.

"You were telling me what's rude, lass."

"Yeah, what does that have to do with staring?" She felt like she was having a conversation about space time continuum at the moment.

"It's rude to stare? I've no clue where you were going with your sentence," he explained.

Emma shook her head trying to focus. She was having a hard time thinking about anything other than how much she wanted to be that towel right now. For fuck's sake, get ahold of yourself! She blushed as she realized he was making fun of her. "Yes, it is rude to stare, but it is also rude to sneak up on people," she said softly.

"It was not my intention to sneak up on you, darling. I umm..." his hand shot up to fidget behind his ear. He was cute when he was nervous, and Emma knew he was nervous anytime that hand went to his ear. "I seem to be locked out of my apartment, and I've also no clothes as mine are in the wash with the sheets," he reddened as he spoke. If she wasn't witnessing this moment herself, Emma would have thought it impossible for Killian Jones to actually experienced bashfulness.

Emma chuckled at the universe's attempt to even the playing field. "Hold on," she told him. She walked to the closet and pulled out a duffel bag. "Here. Some of my brother's clothes are in here. You can borrow whatever you need. There are extra toothbrushes in the bathroom cupboard, too. I'll call the Super to unlock your place."

"Don't you just have another one of those I can borrow?" he asked, gesturing to her pajamas.

Emma looked down and laughed as she imagined Killian in a Jack Sparrow nightie. She walked out leaving him to change. After making the call to get Killian's apartment unlocked, she grabbed herself another cup of coffee. When she turned around she almost spit out what she'd just sipped. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"You said anything, this lovely number was in the duffel. Not my color?"

"I am fairly certain that belongs to my sister-in-law," Emma laughed out. "It does bring out the blue in your eyes though," she flirted. He was a sight to see in Mary Margaret's paisley halter top, and a pair of David's sweat pants. "How did you even get that to fit?"

"I am very svelte, Swan. And it is very stretchy," he said, pulling at the fabric. "I guess I'll change," he sighed, walking back to her bedroom. "I'll just go with this old favorite," he said as he reemerged… shirtless.

"You are such an exhibitionist," she joked.

"You've no idea, love. Consider yourself lucky I dress at all when I come to your door."

Her skin burned from the mental image that jumped into her mind. "Does that actually make me lucky?" She couldn't believe the shameless way the words left her mouth.

He laughed heartily, both eyebrows reaching for the sky, a bit of pink coloring his cheeks again.

"You hungry?" she asked.

"I am starving, lass. I've barely eaten anything since I came to your door the other night."

"No wonder you were so loopy last night," she rolled her eyes. Going to the fridge she pulled out eggs, bacon, and pancake mix.

"Loopy or not, I meant everything I said last night."

She turned around to look at him, to gauge the sincerity of his statement. It did not surprise her to see that there was no sign of deception, no smirk upon his lips. Instead it was just him looking back, waiting for an honest response in return.

"Good."

The smile that spread across his face, crinkling his eyes at the edges triggered her own happy smile. "You want to make the pancakes or the eggs and bacon?" As they cooked together Emma marveled again at how easy and natural it was to be around him.

"Since you're making confessions, how about you tell me which times were made up, and which were real?"

"And just what do I get in return if I spill my nefarious ways?" he asked, suggestively tapping his finger to his lips.

Emma scoffed, "You wish."

"Aye, love, I do, but if we do not have an accord, perhaps just a confession of your own?"

Emma figured he would ask how she felt about him, and she had already decided she wanted to explore this thing further, so what did she have to lose. "Deal."

Emma put her hand in Killian's when he stuck it out to shake on their agreement. "Alright Jones, 'fess up."

"The overdose on children's Tylenol, fake, my best mate's son's medicine, left behind after I watched the little hellion. I didn't realize that's what I'd grabbed, I meant to grab at least an adult medicine."

Emma couldn't help but laugh at that. And the thought of him willing to watch a friend's son warmed her heart.

"Possible broken ribs, fake. Nothing more than an excuse to show up at your door shirtless. Prostate, definitely fake, and an unfortunate choice in illnesses on my part. Although you did put quite the image in my head with your offer to treat me, Swan." He ducked his head chuckling softly.

"Well, regarding your prostate, I must confess, I did not say anything that is not true," she grinned devilishly. She relished the way his head shot up, a tinge of blush coloring his cheeks again. "Oh, is your fever coming back Jones? You're awfully flushed," she teased him. Emma got up and began clearing away the dishes, and Killian followed suit.

"You darling, are a little minx. Where was I before you distracted me? Ah, yes, next was my leg cramp after our jog, mostly real, sick with the flu, very real, lovesickness… the realest of them all. My turn!" He had rambled the last few illnesses off at lightning speed.

Emma whirled around in her place where she was depositing the dishes into the sink. "Wait, wait, wait. Mostly real? I felt the cramp. What do you me-"

"Uh-uh, love, my turn. I spilled, now it's your turn," Killian said as he sauntered up to her. Reaching around her with both hands, he placed his dishes inside the sink.

God, he smells good. It took sheer force of will to keep from snaking her arms around him to pull him closer, as he crowded her space. She couldn't help but admire his chest, and torso, and those goddamn hip bones jutting out, calling to her to suck on them. She could feel her insides pulling as the desire to touch and maybe finally taste him coursed through her.

"Swan, where have you gone again, love?"

"I'm right here," she said, sounding much breathier than she liked. "So what's your question?" He was like an inferno, still in her space, and he'd rested both hands against the counter on either side of her. Surrounding her.

"What were you doing before I came to your door with my leg cramp?" The bastard had that smirk on his face, and that bottom lip was sucked into his mouth as he softly bit into it, his anticipation was palpable.

She felt dizzy, and hot, and breathless as she debated her choices. Fuck, this was so not what she expected his question to be. Her eyes darted nervously between his lips and the floor, and oh my god, what do I say? she panicked internally. "Okay, a kiss then?" she asked, hoping he was open to her negotiation. Before she could even process her next line of defense, his lips were on hers.

After a moment's hesitation she was kissing him back. She pulled him flush against her, and as he wrapped his arms around her waist, she threaded her fingers into his hair. She wanted to explore every inch, touch, rub, and hold everything Killian had on display. There was no sound save for the meeting of their lips, until he moaned… that moan. A sizzling heat flashed through her, and she was pure driven desire. She opened her mouth to him and lightly flicked her tongue against his lips, before licking along the seam. She groaned her approval when he allowed her in. Finally, the last frontier, tasting Jones. And what a delectable treat it was. He lifted her to sit on the edge of the sink, and her legs automatically wrapped around him. It seemed he wanted to explore as much as she did, his hands were caressing her frame, then squeezing her thighs before settling under her nightie, massaging along the heated skin of her back.

Breaking apart to breathe, Emma couldn't resist asking, "If you can massage this well, why did you need me to massage your leg cramp?"

"Do you really want to play Q&A with me again?" he smiled tauntingly, "I don't lose."

"I didn't even have to try when I renegotiated the terms of our agreement just now," she bragged as she let her hands wander the expanse of his chest.

"Did you stop to consider that your reaction was enough to answer my question?" He waggled his eyebrows at her, and a cocky grin took over his ravished lips. "The kiss was an added bonus," he said huskily, a burning intensity simmered in his eyes as he stared at her, daring her to disagree that he already knew her truth.

"Goddammit," she muttered, burying her face in the crook of his neck, too mortified to maintain eye contact.

Taking his hands out of her shirt, he brought them both to her cheeks and lifted her head to look at him. "Open your eyes, love." When she didn't open her eyes, he kissed her delicately, before bringing his mouth to her ear. He sucked her lobe into his mouth and bit down softly, causing her to moan again. "Would it help, Emma, if I told you I was doing the same thing?" He chuckled at her sharp intake of breath, and the way her eyes popped open.

Emma nodded her head silently, her pupils dilated and she waited for him to continue.

"I couldn't help myself, love. When I got into the shower all I kept imagining was you jogging, your breasts bouncing, and pert ass on display. Mmmm, the flush of your body, and your ragged breath. I wanted to be the reason you were hot and sweaty, and fuck I was so hard."

Emma's breath picked up as she listened to Killian, "Tell me more," she whispered, flexing her legs around him, pulling him in just that little bit more.

"I knew you were a dirty little thing, Emma Swan," he murmured, lifting her off the counter he walked them over to the couch.

Emma had to bite down on her lip to keep from crying out when he picked her up, his firmness pressing against her in just the right spot.

Turning around, Killian backed up till his calves hit the couch, then he tapped her thighs, signaling her to put her feet down on the cushions. He sat down then pulled her on top of him to straddle his lap. "Do you want me to tell you how I took myself in hand, wishing it was you?"

The ache between Emma's thighs was real, and having her legs spread was not helping, there was no friction to be had. Emma busied her hands at his chest, refusing her urge to relieve her own ache.

He was palming her ass, squeezing it, and god if he would just pull my ass to him a little bit I'd be able to grind against him. Fuck even her inner monologue sounded desperate. With what he already knew, she didn't understand why she was feeling too shy to just rut against him like there was no tomorrow.

"How I couldn't even keep quiet as I stroked myself to thoughts of you. Thoughts that brought me to completion disappointingly quickly." He rested his forehead to hers, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper, his breathing heavy.

Fuck it, she thought as she pushed against him, taking her pleasure.

He grunted as she grinded her hot core over him. "How tense my body was as I came harder than I ever have. Is that what you want me to tell you, Emma?" his voice was deep, thick with want, and he practically growled her name. He grabbed onto her thighs guiding her over his cock.

"Yes," she sighed, riding him a little faster. She leaned in and caught his lips with hers, sucking hard at his bottom lip. Dipping her tongue inside his mouth, she flicked it against his in tempo with her hips. The feel of his fingertips digging into her thighs was just on the pleasurable side of painful.

"Gods you are gorgeous. You were gorgeous that morning, mussed hair, and that little robe. I could smell your sweet arousal when you helped me to sit down, and that beautiful flush ran all the way down between your breasts as you leaned over me. I wanted to take you right there."

"I would have let you," she panted.

Killian threw his head back at her words, just the thought of being inside Emma was enough to propel him to the edge. "You're going to make me come like this Emma. Like a fucking adolescent, and I don't even care. Tell me you're going to come for me."

"Yes, Killian, for you," she told him looking into his hooded eyes, "I came for you that morning too, I could hear you in the shower. When I heard you moaning all I could think about was you touching yourself as the hot water rolled down your body. Just the thought of you jerking off had me impossibly wet. When I heard you shout out, I came for you right then."

"Fucking hell," he muttered, "that's it love, let go."

And just like that Emma fell apart for him, his name on her lips just as it had been with every orgasm since the day she'd met him.

Hearing his name fall from her lips he couldn't hold out a moment longer, he came hard, groaning out her name.

Emma slumped against him, "God, I needed that."

"Killian will do," he laughed.

"Shut up, Jones." She sat up to kiss him again, "Thank you."

"For what? That amazing orgasm?"

Emma slapped his chest, "For telling me about… you know," she trailed off, looking down at her hands splayed over his chest.

"Emma, we just came together, fully clothed, while telling each other about masturbating to thoughts of each other. Why would you get shy now?" He brushed her hair back behind her ears, then tilted her head up. "There is no reason to ever be shy around me." He slid his hand up from her chin, smoothing his thumb over her cheek, then he pulled her in for another kiss.

Listening to him talk so casually about such intimate things Emma couldn't help but be enamored. "When you put it that way, yes, it would be pretty stupid for me to be shy about anything. I do have a question though."

"Ask away, love."

"How did you fake that cramp? I saw it, I felt it."

It was Killian's turn to be embarrassed, as his hand shot up behind his ear and he grinned nervously.

"Oh, look who's shy now," she teased.

"Fuck it," he muttered, "the cramp was real darling. My body tensed up so hard when I came that I actually gave myself a charlie horse."

Emma giggled, a light cheery thing as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He was so right, with what they'd said and done today there wasn't any reason to ever be embarrassed, about anything. Standing up she held her hand out to him and dragged him off the couch and then down the hall. Once they were in her bedroom she turned to face him and grabbed both his hands in hers. "In our endeavor to never be embarrassed, and be comfortable and proud about our feelings, I really want to feel you inside me," she practically purred.

Killian's response was physical as he hauled her flush against him, wrapping their joined hands behind her back, he kissed her soundly.

The way he pinned her hands behind her back and bucked his hips had her desperate. "Someone's ready to go," she murmured, feeling his length against her belly.

"I am always hard for you Emma," he told her between kisses.

"Maybe I can help you with that." She pulled her hands from his hold and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants letting them drop to the floor. Stepping back to admire the full picture, she hummed appreciatively at the sight before her, "I see now my fantasies pale in comparison." His hair was still awry from where she'd raked her fingers through it, giving it a roguish 'just been ravished' look. His shoulders were broad, framing a toned torso; as she followed his happy trail she noticed that even his belly button was cute, in fact she wanted to kiss every inch of his taut belly.

"I know I am devilishly handsome, but I am getting quite lonely waiting for you to finish your perusal of my goods. Perhaps it's my turn?"

Emma raised both hands in the air, giving Killian easy access to strip her bare. "Peruse away."

Killian lowered her hands placing one on each of his shoulders, "Perhaps I wish to savor the moment as well, love." Placing his hands on her hips he trailed them up each side of her lean frame. He watched her nipples pebble through her thin nightie as his thumbs stroked the underside of her breasts. Each time he passed his thumbs over her he reached a little higher, teasing her, making her crave the touch she knew was coming. When he finally grazed her nipples she whimpered at the sensation causing his cock to jerk. "I do like it when you make noise," he told her.

Emma slid her hands down his chest and copied his motions running her thumbs across his nipples, "Does that feel good for a man?" she asked.

"Aye, what you're doing feels very good," he told her.

"I need more, Killian, please," she whispered, then she leaned forward to kiss him, plunging her tongue into his mouth, while continuing to play with his nipples. She could feel new wetness coating her panties as he groaned into her mouth.

"You're making it difficult for me to take my time, darling."

"Then don't." She reached for his hand and placed it between her thighs, "See what you do to me?"

"You are soaked," he breathed out as he pressed his hand to her panty covered core. Her answering cry spurred him to action. Grabbing the hem of her nightie he pulled it up and over her head in one fluid motion. "Bloody hell, lass," he murmured as he took all of her in. He led her to the bed where he laid her out, and climbed over her. He kissed her chastely on the lips, "I'll be right back."

"What, where are you going?" she half whined.

Killian kissed a trail along her jaw, and down her throat, stopping to suck on her pulse point.

Emma turned her head to the side for him as he worried her flesh with his teeth. His mouth was magic, sending pulses of heat straight to her core. He continued to move down her body, and when he finally reached her breasts, her nipples were straining for his touch. He suckled one, the warmth and wetness of his mouth making Emma cry out, while he rolled her other expertly between his thumb and middle finger. She held his head to her, not wanting him to release her, but she could feel her arousal coating her thighs, and she couldn't stand it anymore, she needed to be touched. Reaching her hand down she spread her folds with her fingers and slid her middle finger through her wetness, then ran it back up to her clit. She drew slow circles not needing to get off, just needing a soothing touch. She moaned as the sensation of each of her pleasure points being loved took over her body.

Killian looked up to watch Emma when he heard her, she was a vision, eyes closed, lips parted and panting as she pleasured herself. "As much as I love the sight of you spreading those swollen folds, I want to be the one to take care of you right now."

Emma jumped, not expecting to hear his voice. She opened her eyes looking a bit chagrined, "I told you I need you," she told him, still rubbing herself gently.

He pulled her hand to his mouth, sucking her middle finger into his mouth and humming appreciatively. "I have dreamed of tasting you," he told her as he settled his shoulders between her thighs. Splaying her legs wide, he spread her folds and licked along her core.

"Oh, thank you," Emma gasped. She placed her hand on the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of hair and tried not to buck too forcefully or push too hard. She didn't want to smother the poor guy before she'd even experienced his glorious dick, which by all accounts was in need of her worship, if his hips rutting into her mattress were any indication. When she felt his finger circling her entrance she shamelessly canted her hips.

He chuckled at her impatience, then quickly pushed into her, not wanting to tease her too much. He paused when he felt her adjusting to just his digit. He clamped his eyes shut, willing himself to stay calm, because if she felt this tight right now, he couldn't even fathom how amazing she would feel squeezing his cock. Adding a second finger he picked up his ministrations if for no other reason than his now burning hot desire to bury himself in her balls deep. He pumped his fingers up into her making sure to hit that spot that had her panting praises, all the while steadily caressing her clit with his tongue. He could tell she was getting close as her grip tightened in his hair.

Emma pinched at her nipples with her free hand while she clutched at his hair with the other. She couldn't help the sounds that she was making, he had her on the edge of bliss. He pulled her right over the edge when he covered her clit with his mouth and sucked with such precision she saw stars. Or maybe it was just those little white spots you see in your vision when you start to black out. Either way it was intense and she was having a hard time catching her breath.

Killian crawled back up to her looking into her dazed eyes, "Told you I'd be right back, darling." Leaning down he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, pulling on it. He growled when she attacked, plunging her tongue deep inside his mouth, like she couldn't get enough of him.

Emma reached around him and grabbed his ass squeezing it, then pushing him down to her center, she guided his shaft through her folds, moaning at the feel of his tip as it passed over her clit. She snaked one hand down between them and gripped him in her warm hand, "Fuck, I can't wait to feel you Killian."

Killian pumped into her hand savoring the wet glide now that she'd coated his cock. "Show me where you want to feel me, love."

"Right here," she whispered, lining him up.

"You don't even know how long I've waited for this."

"Probably for as long as I have. Since I met you," she told him unabashedly.

He chuckled at her candor, "Aye, you do know then." He slowly pushed into her just his tip, marveling at her tightness. Killian held back when he heard her hiss, "Does it hurt?"

"Only in the best way."

Resting his forehead to hers he began to slide in again, "You are so warm, and wet, and fucking tight, gods you are perfect."

Emma cried out as he drove deeper than she'd ever felt, she reveled in the stretch as she adjusted to his size. Her temporary discomfort subsided as he kissed her through it, and continued to attend to her breasts. Resuming her grip on his ass, she urged him to move. "Show me what you've got, Jones."

His resolve to take things slowly slipped a bit when she prodded him. Pulling out almost completely he lovingly drove home again, testing her readiness. She didn't wince or tense up this time, and he smiled at her devilishly. He pulled her legs up higher around his waist, then leaned forward and pushed her hair back from her forehead, he wanted to see every expression as he made love to her for the first time.

Emma praised the impossibly long stroke of each pass as he more than filled her up, telling him how good he felt. She'd never had someone watch her, look into her eyes, the intensity sent a chill through her body. She clutched his biceps as they rolled and flexed with his every thrust. "Harder." He grunted as he slammed home, grinding against her each time he was fully sheathed. "Yes, just like that, Killian," she gasped.

The slap of skin, the wet sounds of flesh on flesh, and their small pants, and moans were all that surrounded them. They focused on giving and taking their pleasure and nothing else. He pumped into her harder and faster, willing her to climb that hill with him again. "Fuck Killian, I'm gonna come again. Don't stop."

"Yes Emma, let me feel you come all over my cock," he ground out through gritted teeth.

His words were her undoing, her stomach tensed and her thighs constricted around his waist holding him to her as she worked her clit against him a final time. The spark of all consuming release that had been building flared hot as quiver after quiver of ecstasy stole through her body. Emma didn't recognize the low moan spilling from her lips as her body experienced the deepest completion she'd ever been brought to.

The constriction he felt wrapping around his cock was more than he could take, he fucked into her, torn between wanting to draw out this rapture and needing gratification.

"Come, Killian," she whispered hoarsely. She threaded one hand into the hair on his chest, and placed the other on his cheek. She watched the pleasure take over his face, meeting him thrust for thrust, wanting to give as good as she'd gotten.

Those two little words set him off, he thrust his hips powerfully, burying deep into her as his release shook his body. "Seven fucking Hells, lass, that was…" he trailed off, unable to verbalize a word worthy enough of the orgasm he'd just had. He rested his head against her chest, trying to catch his breath. He tried to keep some of his weight off of her, not wanting to crush her, but he was reluctant to move from the haven of her thighs.

"Yeah it was," she breathed out, knowing exactly what he meant. She cradled his head between her breasts and pushed his matted hair from his forehead. "Lay," she told him. She inhaled sharply when their combined release spilled from within her as he pulled out, sending a late jolt of pleasure through her lower belly.

Killian acquiesced laying against her, indulging in their post-coital bliss, together. It was not lost on him that she was holding him, taking care of him as she had every time he'd come to her for help, be it real or made up. "Fuck," he muttered, pushing up and looking at her. "I'm so sorry, love. How could I be so careless."

Emma pushed herself up on her elbows, clueless as to his sudden mood swing. "What is it?"

"I didn't... I didn't use a condom. I'm so sorry, Emma."

"Killian calm down," she said, gently running a hand through his hair. She grabbed his arm and wrapped her leg around his to roll him to his back, then straddled his waist. "Listen, I'm on the pill, and I trust you. Plus, I only have latex condoms, and I really don't want your dick falling off. I can just imagine you at my door crying about penile anaphylactic shock." She burst out laughing at the offended look on his face. "It's okay Jones, I'll take care of you no matter what fake illness you bring to my door."

"First off, I have never come up with anything that asinine, Swan. And secondly," he continued no longer sounding insulted, "I have another confession."

"Oh yeah, and what is that?"

"I'm not allergic to latex."

"You prick! I knew that was just a line. So long as I'm the only girl you've ever used it on, I'll let it go."

"Aye, love, I've never used that line on anyone else. I just wanted to feel your skin on mine while you massaged me, especially after smelling your heavenly scent that morning."

Emma leaned down and rubbed her nose to his, "So sweet and dirty all at the same time, I like it."

Killian looked into her eyes, "Dr. Swan, I do seem to have one more issue," he said huskily, squeezing her behind.

She smiled at him sweetly, cocking her head, "Tell me all about it," she murmured.

"Well doctor, I seem to have some swelling, can you help?"

Still straddling his hips, she squeezed her thighs around him playfully. "Where is this swelling?"

Killian canted his hips up and his hardened cock poked her backside.

She chuckled, "Lucky for you I know just the cure." Pinning his hands above his head and sliding down his body just a little, Emma Swan set about curing her ailing neighbor once more.

"You know love, it is my turn to ask you a question again," he mentioned as they sat eating chicken noodle soup.

"I don't know if I can handle anymore Q&A."

"I promise darling, this is a simple yes or no question."

Emma nodded her head for him to go ahead and ask.

"Would you allow me to take you out on a proper date, Emma Swan?"

She laughed loudly, a truly happy laughter. "It's about fucking time! That's more along the lines of what I thought you were going to ask the first time."

"Is that a yes?" he asked with more boyish hope than swagger in his voice.

"Of course! I'm in this for the long haul," she told him. She felt as if a weight had been lifted as she took that leap of faith.

"Nice to have you along for the ride, Swan," he winked at her, "the long haul will be so much more fulfilling to traverse with you.

Emma blushed at the sweetness in his words. "Take me to dinner, Jones, I want to hear all about why you thought faking illnesses was a better approach than just talking to me."

End