It takes him a moment to settle in to what exactly he's feeling as he watches her move about their kitchen. With her bare feet padding along the hard wood, looking slightly rumpled in her light blue flannel pajamas and hair piled high atop her head, she looks more beautiful than if she was back in her ball gown from Camelot. As stunning as she was that night, what he sees know, this is his Emma, without walls or armor. She looks…content.

Content is not something he's ever known how to feel, the idea so foreign he feels a bit winded at the realization that he's finally found its meaning. All this grand talk of happy endings and True Love somehow managed to eclipse the simple joy of this, this bone deep happiness with the state of life as it is. His heart doesn't ache for something more, more adventure, more treasure or excitement. There is no ache now, just a beat that speeds up at every smile, touch, kiss - every look across the room meant only for him.

It's taken nearly 300 years, but he finally knows what it is to be content.

She catches him staring as she turns from the sink to wipe her wet hands on the sides of her pants and he can't stop the swoosh of his belly at her mild blush and the adorable twitching of her nose. His Emma is still not used to be wanted. That thought is still lingering in his mind as she crosses back over to him at the couch with the last bite of her toast clenched between her teeth.

His hand stops her progress as she tries to step between his knees and the coffee table, grabbing somewhat possessively at her hip as his hook nudges her forward behind her knee. She mumbles something through her mouthful, but doesn't protest, instead looking down to meet his upturned gaze. Without much of a plan as to what he had in mind he merely rests his chin against her stomach and smiles, watching her lips slowly turn upwards as she continues to chew.

His telltale heart flutters like the wings of a butterfly about to take flight as her fingers weave softly into the back of his hair and his eyes close to allow the feeling of it to really sink in. Nosing through the opening of her shirt, he finds her taught stomach with his lips and begins to kiss abstract patterns along her warm skin. When her belly quivers slightly and her fingers flex against his scalp, he smiles along the sensitive spot before moving to the crease of her hip.

Every cell in his body is alert with anticipation, but he wants to keep things gentle, not necessarily leading anywhere but here. As he tugs lightly on her pants to reveal just the top of her hipbone he picks up a familiar scent, the jungle of Neverland home to many foreign plants, but also healing ones, like aloe, which must be one of the fragrances in Emma's bathing soaps. It seems fitting in a way, considering how she has mended him from villain to the man he has become.

Choosing to stay in the here and now, he pushes those memories out of mind with a playful bite to the tip of her hip. A pleasure filled laugh breaks the hushed quiet as she gives a gentle tug to the strands of his hair still caught between her fingers. He continues to kiss the skin just above her waistband, noticing how her hips have begun to rock slightly towards his mouth.

That resolve to keep things light begins to crumble.

Looking up he sees her smiling down at him with the same mix of desire and happiness he feels swirling deep in his belly.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain?"

Her grin widens as she maneuvers herself down onto his lap and his want of her becomes painfully obvious, a pleasure filled grunt falling from his lips despite his best effort to stifle it. There's a quip there in response to hers on the tip of his tongue, but he lets it slide in lieu of her mouth settling over his and the soft flannel of her shirt warming his bare chest.

She tastes of peanut butter and chocolate, and he chases the tiny hint of cinnamon just at the tip of her tongue. The kiss turns sloppy and somewhat silly and soon they are both pulling back in laughter, or giggles, if he's being completely honest. With her hands propped against the couch on either side of his head and her loving smile as his anchor, he welcomes another wave of contentment as it washes over them both.

"Permission granted, my love."