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How was he supposed to get out of the building unseen? And provided he got outside, how could he possibly take the boy home? He would probably wait until they came looking for him. Make him disappear? Escape? Impossible. At the moment there were people in the hallway. The window was barred.
Until Killian noticed the penknife in Henry’s satchel, he had asked himself these questions a thousand times over. Now he composed his thoughts. Worst-case scenario, he could kill the boy, slit his throat over the sink (so he would not stain the floor), hide him in the supply closet once he was dead.
“My mums will find me and when they do, you are done for, Captain Hook!”
There was so much glee in the kid’s voice. It was truly despicable.
“Aren’t you too clever by half?” Killian sneered.
This was just a prime example why he hated children.
“I could scream,” Henry narrowed his eyes but then Killian gave a nod to the knife in the bag.
“Really?” he mocked and his brows rose. “Anyone ever told you that speech is silver, boy?”
In hindsight Killian should have smelt the trap when the cricket and Queen Snow, in their Storybrooke assigned roles of therapist and teacher, asked him to take part in educating the town’s youth about the history of the other worlds. Hopper suggested that a confrontational approach might help with Hook’s phobia when it came to children. Mary Margaret thought it would take his mind off his revenge scheme that she had referred to as an addiction.
In his head he could almost hear their conversation now.
“You can’t help an addict until he has hit rock bottom,” the cricket would have reasoned, nervously cleaning his glasses before putting them back on his nose. “And sometimes it’s important to help the process along.”
“So,” the queen, no less evil than her stepmother, would have answered. “We dig a hole in the yard and cover it with sticks and leaves, put glass in his slippers…”
“The point is to help him hurt himself,” the crocodile would have interrupted with the humourless grimace he wore in this realm instead of his former demented giggling.
If he was honest, he didn’t know how Gold came into this but then he was the focal point of any of Killian’s complot and revenge fantasies. Be that as it may, not that he was looking to be “cured” or anything but playing along until he got another shot at skinning his crocodile seemed like a good idea at the time. Of course he went straight into their trap.
Story time, Mary Margaret had called it and Killian had found himself sitting in front of about fifteen loud and snotty-nosed brats.
‘In hell,’ he had thought, ‘no one speaks but everyone screams. Hell is constant and eternal. And other people. Particularly children.’
Once they were finally silenced, he had told the story of the sorcerer Fitcher, little Wren and the egg. Granted, he had dwelled a bit on the part where the girl found a golden basin full of blood in a forbidden room and therein her sisters, dead and hewn to pieces. He put a fair amount of giddy detail into describing the gleaming axe and concluded that upon her findings Wren happily agreed to be the sorcerer’s bride.
And there the unruly urchins had sat, their mouths gaping open. One little pixie had started to cry. For a brief moment Killian had almost enjoyed himself until Mary Margaret had spoilt all the fun, completing the story to its happy ending. As usual it included some sort of trickery and arson. How little Wren came out to be the good one in all of this still pretty much escaped him but then it wasn’t like he really cared. After all he had only met the fair maiden once.
“Well, it was so nice of you to come, Killian!” Mary Margaret had said and then with the utmost cruelty signalled the children that it would be okay to hug him good-bye. Meanwhile he had relished in fantasies when he would make them walk the plank.
No wonder his skin had still been crawling, while he was helplessly wishing to retrieve some of his dignity and reputation when he encountered the sheriff’s and the mayor’s kid in the hallway. Throttling the short stickybeak and dragging him into one of the school bathrooms wasn’t the most thought-through plan, he had to admit but for a moment it felt like it was the right thing to do.
“No,” the little know-it-all announced now. “Only that silence is golden.”
Killian rolled his eyes, “Yeah, that’s the other half of the saying, kid.”
Then there was a sharp knock on the door. He hadn’t quite gone back yet to pondering when he would be caught but apparently the time was now. On the other side, somebody pressed down the door handle –
“You didn’t lock the door?” exclaimed young Henry, and it sounded almost scandalised. “What kind of villain are you?”
“The one who is going to murder you any minute now!” he hissed through clenched teeth before he looked up and met the princess’ eyes.
“Henry? Killian?” Aurora looked surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh,” the boy said, annoyingly factual. “Captain Hook has kidnapped me but I don’t think he is very good at it. He also threatened to kill me.”
Henry shrugged. Aurora frowned. Killian growled in frustration.
“Well, Henry – I’m sure Ki- Captain Hook didn’t really mean…” Aurora paused as he furrowed his brows and shot her a dirty look. “Meant every word he said,” she continued carefully. “But now that you gave his game your undivided attention for a while, you can surely return to your class.”
“Okay, Miss Aurora.” The boy sounded chipper when he jumped to his feet and grabbed his satchel, then he whispered loud enough for Killian to hear: “But you shouldn’t stay with him. He’s not safe.”
With a serious, sweet smile, the princess nodded. “I know, Henry.”
Right! Wasn’t that the whole point? Killian snorted, tempted to yell something lewd alluding to the fact after the kid. Definitely out of spite, so that Mary Margaret would come under pressure for failing to offer an explanation. But Aurora had already closed the door.
“Oh my, you’re a nonpareil, love. Getting absolutely nothing out of it, apart from a false feeling of superiority that is,” he mocked her in bold defiance.
Actually, she had saved his sorry arse from his failure of an abduction attempt there but he would rather tear his bloody tongue out with his hook than admit to it. Then he sorely remembered that the hook was gone.
“That is nice, indeed.” Her back stiffened and she looked at him sourly, arms crossed over her chest. “Nobody ever let you in on the concept of forethought, I take it?”
Whenever she got high and mighty, he felt the compulsive urge to humbly make her kiss the rod. His rod. Oh this was all rotten, her words, his thoughts, their little dysfunctional cycle of abuse that started to become a thing.
Regardless, he couldn’t stop himself. Taking a step forward, moving dangerously close, he snarled, “How dare you come in here and undermine my authority?”
Nostrils flared, the princess pressed her lips together and stared at him.
“I don’t understand the question and I won’t respond to it,” she finally answered tipping her chin up.
Fine, it was a bit absurd asking royalty to recognise a freebooter’s dominion over a public school bathroom. He started to laugh. It was most frustrating.
“What are you trying to accomplish, Your Highness? Make me a better man?”
She flushed quickly; her bright blue eyes flashed. “Again, I’m not as stupid as you think nor am I in denial, Captain!”
“Excellent. Because it won’t happen.” Killian now almost closed the gap between them with another step forward. His face not moving a muscle, set in its perpetual seductive smirk, he hissed in a dangerous whisper, “Not if I can make you a worse woman first.”
Aurora pinned him with an irritated glare, which amused him. So he leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss across her brow, which didn’t fit the man she thought he was or he tried to be. Unsurprisingly, it unsettled her and she couldn’t help but shiver, nostrils still flared in irritation but from the looks of it, her skin surely tingled.
“No? We’re not laughing anymore?” Killian taunted. “Look, I’m simply playing the hand I was dealt, princess. And right now, you’re the one who willingly trapped herself in a bathroom with me.”
“Most despicable as befits your character,” she pursed her lips in disdain.
“You can’t deny that,” he said triumphantly. “Yet you don’t run from the blackguard,” Killian continued and lightly tapped the centre of her chest with his stump, a bit to the left where he once took her heart from. “And you claim you’re not stupid. So it makes me wonder, are you brave or merely stubborn?”
Ripping herself from his grasp, she slapped his cheek surprisingly hard for someone with such small and soft hands. Just as she was about to dart outside, he locked his hand around her arm in a tight grip and turned her around, pressed her against the bathroom sink.
“Let’s go with both and add easily excitable to the list,” he grinned, rubbing his nose along the side of her neck before he kissed and suckled her soft skin.
As he felt her swallow, he looked up, saw both of their reflections in the mirror above the sink before he studied her more closely.
“You are horrible,” her voice was shaking, a blush stained her cheeks. For a moment he was worried that tears would fill her eyes. Perhaps he had gone too far.
She must have seen a hint of worry creeping into his expression because she said calmly, “I understand I will never get an honest apology from you. But I won’t deny you the chance to make up for it in different ways.”
“Such noblesse,” he smirked, running his fingers through her tawny curls that were merely tamed by a slim headband set with rhinestones. “Perhaps you’ll come to appreciate those ways much more than you’ll miss my lack of repentance and refinement?”
“Perchance Cora has some magic to sell to make that happen,” Aurora replied sarcastically.
“Now now, don’t give up on me so quickly, love. Maybe I can help you channel your anger after all?”
After flashing her a seductive smile, he thought he felt her plump bottom brushing slightly against his groin.
Surely she knew he wouldn’t be put in his place or whatever other notion she entertained with her haughty regal nod. Regardless she granted permission, “You may try.”
So he lowered his wicked fingers to hitch her short mauvette silk dress to her waist, her sheer stockings clung to the tender creamy flesh of her thighs as she spread them a little for him. Staring into the mirror his blood stung with each pulse as if it had crystallised in heart and veins, and had turned to fine glassy sand.
“Bend over more,” he ordered, slipping her tulle knickers down to her knees. “Curl your hips up, offer your little pussy.”
Aurora grabbed the sink for balance. For a brief moment she met his eyes in the mirror and blushed deeply. While his limp arm circled her waist, his healthy hand moved down and around. Closing her eyes once he taunted her with his playful, pervert fingers, she mewled in delight when he stroked her clit, applying the right pressure to the spot a bit left of centre until it throbbed wantonly. He dipped one finger back inside her wet heat and her entire body tensed.
“Please,” she whispered. “No more teasing.”
Killian grinned and undid his trousers. One thing had to be said about this world, zippers were a fine invention. His cock sprang free, ready and stiff. A drop of fluid at the tip glistened under the harsh fluorescent light of the bathroom. His balls ached with need and yet –
“There’s a pity,” he mocked in a low voice. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to look at me and tell me exactly what you want me to do.”
Glassy with strain, her eyes glared at his reflection with all that longing she was so ashamed of.
“You want me to be shocking?” she quivered, angry and embarrassed. But he smirked insistently until she heaved a sharp sigh.
“Will you fuck me now, Killian?” she whispered finally, shaky and strangled.
A chill ran up his spine at her last words.
“Good girl,” he approved, kissing her temple and grinned at her blushing. “Keep your eyes open, love!”
When she looked back at him in the mirror, her eyes had gone back to that studied innocence, part pout, part come-on. There was this wilfulness again that amused him so and he could hardly wait to press himself into her over and over again.
His straining cock pushed gently at her opening and she gasped, not daring to shut her eyes for he might stop. Never taking his eyes off her reflection, he murmured words of encouragement as he sank deeper into her, until his cock was completely buried. She was delightfully tight. Urgency built inside him, growing stronger each time he moved further and harder in her, each thrust blissful agony.
Finally his thrusts became fiercer, the blunt head pushing into her inner walls with force. His fingers delved between them, stroking her hard nub in time to his fucking. Pulses of pleasure blurred behind his half-closed eyelids.
“Keep your eyes open, Captain!” she reprimanded him breathlessly, squirming under his touch.
“Fair enough, princess,” he chuckled hoarsely.
The slippery friction, the heat, watching her biting her pink lip in delight so as not to moan too loudly. It was intoxicating. He was coming hard, her cunt clenching around his cock, so tight he was spilling himself inside her with a primitive growl. This hadn’t been the plan, but for a man who suddenly found himself drowning sucked in by a strong current, it was like grabbing on to floating balsa wood.
“Oh my, oh my, oh…” she sobbed incoherently as he rubbed her clit with his thumb until she writhed under his hand. “So good, so…”
His wetness mingled with hers leaked out from between her thighs and he refused to think about the implications, at least until – her body trembled like a wet leaf and she collapsed against the sink.
Bloody hell, what was wrong with him? He had lost it. But she had felt so damn magnificent. Guiltily he stroked her back between her shoulder blades. Her dress clung to her damp skin. Slowly she turned around, hugged him softly and planted a shy kiss on his cheek.
“We should clean you up, love!” he murmured, distracted.
Wetting a towel with soapy warm water, he cleaned her thoroughly but tenderly between her legs. Rinsing the cloth and repeating the process before patting her pussy dry. He kissed her on the mouth then, lazily nibbling on her lower lip.
“I know you think me feeble and prissy,” Aurora started.
Killian narrowed his eyes. “What gave you that bloody bird-brained idea? I don’t admit to such things easily. Not that there’d been much to admit to in the past but… I do like you.” He couldn’t stifle a bitter laugh, “Indeed far better than I should.”
Being with her felt comforting like a reminder of a future, and at the same time a thorn that grew and drilled into his black heart. Beguiling rose. Salt and fire in his blood, he secretly wished he could make new vows. Perhaps exchange them this time. Deluded.
“What is going on? Good grief, are you mating?”
As always Emma Swan interrupting was annoying yet at least this time not entirely unwelcome. If he was honest, he feared his confession would bring on a reply by the princess he couldn’t handle.
“Dissolute conduct in public is a federal offence!”
Killian knew it was only the fact he was with the princess that saved him from yet another stint in a jail cell. Everyone felt so obnoxiously protective of her.
“Dearest Emma," he smiled like a shark. "If this is the lecture on how I’m all supposed to whatever and blahblahblah, you can save it because we all know it by heart now.”
“Your ankle monitor gave the same coordinates for the past two hours, so legally I had to check on you.” Her brows rose otherwise she looked most indifferent. “What are you both doing here anyway?”
“Story time!” they replied in unison.
“Okay, well… school is out for today. So I suggest you leave the premises after Aurora has decided whether or not to put her panties back on. Also I’d recommend you tuck away your other limp appendage, Hook.” Emma forced a tight-lipped smile. “Friendly advice.”
“By the way interesting tale you told the class there. Thinking about it, isn’t it about a sad almost grown-up who fragmentarily repeats former actions over and over in an attempt to change them? Reminding you of someone?” Emma smiled about the irony but without much humour. “One last thing, I’d suggest locking the door next time.”
For a second he was alarmed but apparently the kid hadn’t ratted him out. With the sheriff gone, Aurora smoothed down her dress as he pulled up his zipper in silence. Killian remembered the moments before Aurora appeared. When he had thought about what to do. And how his impetuousness paired with subsequent hesitation would have surely been his downfall. Perhaps still would be at one point.
Aurora, however, seemed to have guessed his thoughts because she answered smiling lightly, “This is how I’ve always been: To avoid a scandal, I am able to commit a crime.”
~Fin~