To my CSSS giftee @word-bug, it has been a pleasure chit chatting with you over this holiday season! Here is your present, a little angst, a little mutual pining, a little smut, and a ton of fluff. I hope you enjoy it! HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
“Merry Christmas, Swan! What’s up?” Killian answered his phone with a silly smile; the same silly smile that always came across his face when his best friend was on his mind.
“Still ever the jolly little elf, aren’t ya,” Emma deadpanned.
“Nothing little about me, Swan, but yes, I am quite jolly.”
“Alright, alright, enough of that. I’ll be off around five, are we still on for tonight?”
If possible, his smile grew wider at the hopeful tone in her voice. “Of course, what do you have in mind?”
“You could come over to my place, we could get chinese and watch a movie?”
“It’s Christmas Eve, eve, Swan-”
“That’s not even a thing, Killian.”
Killian could practically hear the eye roll through the phone. “It is so, and there is much to do on this Christmas Eve, eve; it’s a Saturday evening. The town Christmas parade is tonight, the Irish Rose is having an all night Christmas party, drinks are half price. The Nightmare Before Christmas is playing at the cinema-”
“What are you, the local entertainment section of the paper? I’m so burnt out after this week, I really want to keep it lowkey.”
“Well if you insist on staying in, it’s going to be at my place. You don’t even decorate, Scrooge.”
“I am not a scrooge! I just don’t like- I mean I don’t have time to- ugh, whatever. Not everyone likes it when Christmas throws up all over their house.”
“You’re right, not everyone enjoys it, you and Scrooge for example,” he laughed into the phone.
“Your place it is,” she acquiesced, knowing she really was a bit of a scrooge. But it wasn’t a totally unfounded reason for her lack of Christmas spirit. “I’ll pick up food on the way, pick your pleasure.”
“Well if it’s pleasure we’re talking about, I’ve a wholly different menu than anything you can pick up from restaurant, love,” he flirted.
“Oh my god, Killian. You are so shameless,” she chastised, silently praising the fact that blushing couldn’t be seen through the phone.
“You love it,” he taunted her. “Are you blushing yet?”
“What do you want for dinner,” Emma dodged his question.
“I’ll cook,” he answered, “see you tonight, Swan.”
you guys are the best, thanks for being so enthusiastic about this little story. it all wraps up here, and I hope you guys enjoy! @high-seas-swan deserves all the love and praise for actually getting me off my butt to finish this, and finish it well.
for those of you who don’t know:
au where high school lit teacher killian jones ends up on the hotdudesreading instagram page and is very, very confused by it all.
Perhaps he should have
anticipated at least some of it but he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to
people walking up to him in the middle of the street and saying, “I drove here
from Boston because I saw you and this town on Instagram oh my God can I get a
photo with you please?” All as if it’s one sentence, too.
It doesn’t happen too often,
but it happens enough. Because apparently his face is attracting tourists and
the town’s business has never been so good. Or so Mayor Mills tells him, in her
perpetually unimpressed tone of voice, pursed lips and all.
He’s fallen down some wormhole,
or walked through a portal, or is surely dreaming of something Twilight Zone
inspired because this is not a life he’d ever thought he’d be even remotely
close to having.
It All Starts With a Dance 