A/n: Don't worry, I fully intend on updating "Two Pink Lines" this weekend, but I got carried away with this idea. This stands alone and can be understood without reading the other fic, but is a continuation of the flashback from "You Don't Have To Say Goodbye". I have had this in my head and partially written since the day after I wrote the first chapter of my twoshot it's based on, and I have finally decided to finish it. I always write from Emma's POV, so I decided to write from Hook's this time about how he would feel in this situation after spending ten months on the Jolly Roger with her, searching for Henry after he is kidnapped. I hope I pulled it off! Enjoy!

"Just stop!"

Hook's voice thundered as he finally channeled all of his frustration with her that he had bottled up the past ten months into those two, simple words. In what had become almost a year-long search for Henry, it was something that he had never been able to bring himself to tell her. He led her through many a dangerous jungle and storm, and now, as he watched Emma's fragile, thin body nearly shaking with exertion as she forced herself to continue on for miles along the beach as the Neverland sun set in the distance, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Dammit, Emma, you have to stop this." He dropped the bag of Neverland fruit that they had been collecting, emphasizing his point. "You have to stop killing yourself over not finding the boy. Just look at yourself! You're half dead as it is, lass, and it's not because we don't have enough food." Once he began speaking out the pent up worries in his head, he couldn't stop them from spilling out.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm fine?"

Her biting tone only succeeded in feeding the flame that was growing inside of him. "You're not. And you're not helping your boy by committing a slow suicide."

"You're not helping me by having this conversation right now."

Hook's eyes were positively flashing with anger at the infuriating woman before him. He didn't know how he could simultaneously be so upset with her and so terrified that she would collapse from stress at the same time. "Bloody hell, Swan, you should know by now I'd follow you across worlds and back to help you find your boy, but there's only so much! We're doing the best that we can to find him-"

"No, we're not!"

The way her voice lost its fury and cracked with emotion made him feel as if his heart were being crushed. "Love…" He spoke again, this time softly, hoping, needing to get through to her.

"If I was doing enough, I would have found him already."

She was now nearly crying in frustration at this point, turning red from the passion and the tears that were threatening to spill over. Hook hated seeing that look on her face. He hated seeing the woman he had grown to care so much about - the strong, defiant, woman who had bested him - look so broken. All too long ago, their relationship had become less about a game of "who would cave first to sexual desire" and so much more about an unspoken, unacknowledged trust and bond between them while looking for her long-kidnapped son.

"There has to be more…" She continued, her tone begging him for some magical answer that he didn't have.

"There isn't!" He said the words more firmly than he had expected and moved closer. He brushed her arm tenderly with his hand – the intimacy of the touch another luxury he had longed for and not allowed himself to indulge in. It would have made his feelings for her too real.

Everything was silent and still between them except for the waves of the Neverland ocean. Emma's lip trembled for an excruciatingly long moment, and Hook wasn't sure if she was going to cry or shout at him again, until she let out a wracking sob and fell into his chest. In that moment, he felt all of her pain, all of her anger, all of her loss, and he didn't hesitate in wrapping her in his arms. Before he realized what he was doing, his lips brushed against the top of her head and rested there.

"Shh," he whispered, stroking her hair and holding her even tighter against his chest. "It'll be alright, love."

After a long moment, he felt her shift in his arms, and almost experienced a sense of loss when she pulled back from him and looked into his eyes.

"How do you keep this up?"

Hook spoke without thinking, as was often his custom, though not usually with such sincerity. "I've had three centuries practice of looking for something I'd once lost, Emma."

He surprised himself with his own honesty, and felt a small shock go through his body when she brushed his stubbly cheek with her fingertips. He cast her a searching look for only a moment before she kissed him - he tensed. For months, his desire to kiss her had been different from the combination of amusement, admiration and lust that he had first felt on the beanstalk when she had pulled him roughly into her body to avoid the giant's trap and now that her lips were pressed hard against his, it was as if he wasn't sure how to react. He had put so much energy into pushing away his feelings and focusing on keeping the headstrong woman safe in the treacherous land, that he had all but given up on getting this opportunity – not that his constant innuendos would have allowed anyone to think otherwise.

The first kiss was chaste. He relaxed into her touch, subconsciously pulling her body closer to his without deepening the kiss - and then it was over.

"We should get back to the ship, love," he whispered.

He wanted to say more, but always the captain, he was still vaguely aware of the darkening skies as the sun set further into the horizon. Neverland was beautiful, but it was a place of many dangers. Despite knowing that they were far enough into the sand and away from the water to avoid any harmful sea creatures, and far enough from the jungle to avoid attracting any unwanted attention from whatever may lie there, he didn't approve of being out past dark.

Emma seemed to have no such notion and she kissed him again, this time much more forcefully. He let out a muffled groan as her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck and yanked him into her mouth. He kissed her back with an equal passion, so preoccupied with sliding his tongue along her bottom lip and delighting when she parted them, that he didn't notice her hand delving into his trousers until he felt it wrap around his already partially hardening length. She let out a soft, pleased moan into his mouth, as if feeling him brought her pleasure, and he pressed his hips into her body in response.

"Emma." Her name fell from his lips like a prayer as they parted and their eyes met. "What are you doing, love?" He could see the pain still fresh in her eyes and he wanted more than anything to be able to make it stop.

"Don't… just don't ask questions," she said, giving him a firm stroke that made his eyes roll back momentarily, almost closing. "I need you."

The words made his heart skip painfully. She stroked him again, and a rumbling groan escaped him, along with all resolve to be a gentleman – at least for the time being.

The third time they kissed, he kissed her. This time, even harder than the second, the fervor of it making her hand slip out of his pants. He grasped her wrist and pulled her back into him, their bodies pressed together tightly as their tongues battled for dominance for the first time, different from the caresses from before. His hooked hand wrapped around her waist while his other dug into her blonde locks, his thumb pushing into her jaw gently, controlling the kiss. When she moaned again softly, his grip around her increased and he began carefully lowering her to the cool, white sand. His hips rolled against hers in a rhythmic motion as they continued to ravage each other's mouths, his body now fully on top of hers and his hook pointed down into the ground.

Emma let out an intoxicating gasp when he moved his mouth from her lips and began nipping and sucking his way down her neck. Gods, he needed to hear that sound again. He let his tongue trail lazily down her neck once more, stopping to kiss at her pulse point, and her legs spread slightly, allowing him even closer to her. He rubbed against her clothed core, grasping her thigh with his good hand and mimicking a hard thrust, as if they were both completely unclothed and he were entering her. He couldn't help the low chuckle from escaping his throat when she elicited a sound between a gasp and a moan and wrapped a leg around his waist. But when he looked into her eyes, he still saw that pain and desperation, past the momentary arousal, and just like that, his need to make her feel, to make her forget overpowered him.

"Get up," he commanded, sitting up on his knees, helping her into a more comfortable position. Either clearly understanding his intentions or having them herself, Emma began unbuttoning her blouse. His skilled fingers, deftly unbuttoned his own and he shrugged out of the shirt, his coat having already slipped into the sand. Emma grasped his hook, startling him, and carefully slipped the black shirt past it so that it didn't get stuck or ripped.

Killian found himself strangely moved by the intimacy of the act. As much as he knew she had wanted something fast and hard, something to make the hurt go away, she took the time to help him undress. He quickly stood up, not wanting to dwell on hidden meanings and began to remove his pants and boots, leaving himself completely bare to her. When he finished, he was greeted with the view of Emma Swan, sitting before him in the sand as her bra was stripped from her chest, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight. She was now entirely naked. In an instant he was on top of her again, kissing her lips and then moving back down her body, eager to reach new places that he had been unable to before. He dragged his mouth down her collarbone, before finally reaching her breasts, first taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. A small shock of pleasure went straight to his lower half at the sound that she made, her chest lifting slightly, pressing her further into his lips. The pure, vulnerable, pleasure of the sound made him ravenous for more. He repeated the motion with the other breast, while his good hand trailed down her body.

"Oh gods, Emma."

His words came out into a breathy but dominant groan when he felt that she was already warm and wet for him and wondered for only a second if she had wanted this as long as he had. Without waiting for further encouragement, he slipped a finger inside of her, delighting in the way that she arched into him; the smallest mewl of appreciation left her lips. His thumb rubbed against the bud of nerves slightly higher while he inserted another finger, stroking her steadily and he was rewarded with another deep, throaty cry. Her body began to quiver much more quickly than he had expected and her eyes closed, her head pushed back into the sand and her hips pumping in time with his strokes.

Hook remained suspended over her while he worked her with his hand, entranced by every movement and noise that she made. "That's it, love," he mumbled, leaning down to trace light kisses down her stomach without stopping caressing her with his fingers. He dug his hook further into the ground beside them, his own arousal becoming painfully obvious to him, but right now, he was more concerned with Emma.

"Please," she whimpered so quietly that he could barely hear her.

He rubbed her harder with his thumb, swirling his tongue around her navel and thrusting his fingers even deeper. It only took seconds before the most exhilarating cry escaped her as her body twisted and arched and he couldn't help but stop kissing her to watch.

She took his breath away.

Without allowing her enough time to completely come down from her high, he moved his hand and positioned himself at her entrance, locking his gaze with hers as he slowly pushed himself inside of her. He loved watching her face change as he drove deeper. Her expression was a mix of so many emotions - surprise at the suddenness of her previous release, gratification, desperation, arousal, emotional pain, need. Many feelings she had denied herself since the day Henry had been kidnapped, whisked away from his life to a land of danger and fear. And suddenly he was fully inside her, and her face changed again. Her eyes widened with pleasure as another shock shook her body from the intrusion and Hook could see the longing as she lifted her hips to meet him, forcing him in even further.

"Christ, Emma." He slowly withdrew himself, almost completely, before thrusting back into her at the same, slow tempo. He wanted to enjoy this. He could still feel her muscles clenching, tight from her recent orgasm. In and out, long, slow strokes. Their pace was intimate and agonizing and delicious. Neither cared or noticed the walls they had worked so hard to build coming down, they were only focused on the pain and stress of the past months melting away as they moved together. Minutes passed of nothing but breathy moans and the lapping of the sea at the shore, when her voice broke the haze of sexual bliss.

"Oh god, Killian…"

At last, he heard her choke out his name, his true name, past her gasps - breathless and full of appreciation and contentment. It was the only time that she had ever called him anything other than Hook or a sarcastic nickname, and it was enough to bring him desperately close to the edge for a short instant.

"Yes, Emma." Hook groaned deeply, thrusting even faster and gripping her hip hard. "I'm here, love," he whispered, latching onto her shoulder and biting down, then sucking hard, not caring that it would leave a mark - wanting to leave a thousand marks on her if it meant she was his, if it meant that she would say his name like that again. "Say it again." It was both a plea and a command.

He felt her body stiffen somewhat, as she seemed to suddenly realize what she had done, and the old, closed off Emma was coming back for the first time since she had kissed him. Instead of complying with his request, she bucked against him harder, both successfully distracting him and chasing her second release. Still, with a newfound passion, he was undeterred and more than willing to give her what she so desperately sought. If she wouldn't say it again, he would make her say it.

Every thrust was deep and fast and unrelenting and she kept up with him, their previous slow, intimate pace now forgotten. Emma raked her nails across his back, leaving marks of her own on him, making him let out a fierce growl and pound into her harder, this time hitting just the right angle.

"Killian!"

The sharpness of her tone woke up the small part of him left that said they needed to leave the beach before it got much darker, or at least dress and get into a position less vulnerable to attack. Then she gasped into his neck again and before he even had a moment to enjoy his triumph at hearing his name or think further about a possible hazard, she was kissing his neck gently, over and over while her hips rose and fell and all resolve was lost.

"Shit, Killian…so close…oh god…" The words spilled out of her lips and onto his skin and it felt like magic.

Hook had often prided himself on both his experience with lovemaking and his control, but it had been so long since he had been with anyone, and this was Emma. His Emma. Her voice and touch was just as close to getting him to succumb as she was.

And then she let go.

He felt her spasm sporadically beneath him, breathing his name over and over, and he was sure that one of her nails had cut his back deep enough to draw blood, but he didn't care. She was coming, much gentler than the first, shaking and trembling and moaning softly into his shoulder and before she had stopped, he tensed and groaned, and shook just as hard as she had been. Even though his eyes were shut, everything went white when he released into her.

"Emma, gods, Emma…"

His whole body shuddered and the waves of pleasure left him only gradually, his cries hanging in the air as everything went silent once again when their bodies stilled. Bloody fucking hell, he couldn't remember the last time an orgasm had felt like that.

Emma was the first to speak, still firmly pinned beneath him. "It's getting darker."

"That's generally what happens in the evening," he laughed half-heartedly, his exhaustion catching up with him. His lips brushed her shoulder tenderly in a post-coital lapse of judgment – something he realized when she tensed.

She pushed against him, prompting him to lift his body from hers. "You were right, we need to get back," she sighed softly, reaching for her bra before their bodies were even untangled from each other.

"So now I'm right?" He teased lightly, reluctantly obliging in her assumed demand, pulling out of her and rolling over, into the sand.

Emma didn't answer, wordlessly shaking the sand from her hair and clothes and beginning to dress. Hook followed suit, glancing around warily to ensure that they were still safe as his senses began to come back. Fortunately, the beach was still as silent and lifeless as it had been before their tryst.

"You've got a little…" he brushed a small patch of sand off of the back of her shirt. "Don't want the rest of the ship asking questions," he muttered, offering her an awkward half smile. He didn't recall the last time he had been the one feeling awkward after a one night stand. He was usually on the 'well that was great, but I should go' side of things, not that he had expected any differently from the woman he had found infuriating only a few minutes before.

"No one's going to ask anything." She had finished dressing quickly, and now picked up the bag of food, draping it over her shoulder. "Ready?"

He had removed his hook and dumped bits of sand out of the attachment on his wrist, but otherwise, he was fully dressed. "I'll take that, love," he offered, snapping his hook back into place.

"I've got it, Hook."

And just like that, it was gone.

Her vulnerability and pain and any semblance of affection had blended back into her old stubbornness and irritability that she constantly hid behind. He was no longer allowed to be 'Killian', but had been demoted back to 'Hook'. Her captain, the man leading her and her family back to her boy, nothing more, nothing less. They trusted each other, they helped each other, but any evidence that there was anything past that was gone in an instant as he watched her trudge ahead of him back towards the far away sails of the Jolly Roger.

He hadn't known why he would have thought it would happen any differently. He was a naive fool for hoping otherwise.

~ASMG~

The following night, they would come to rescue Henry, happening upon him by chance, and within a week from then, they would be on their way back to Storybrooke. Still, since he had taken her on the beach in Neverland, something inside of Killian Jones had broken. Amongst kissing lips, biting teeth, and pumping hips, something had changed and he couldn't deny much longer what he had already known for months, but had never allowed himself to admit.

He was in love with Emma Swan, and now that she had her son back in her arms, she no longer needed him.

To the pirate, there was only one answer. As soon as they set foot in Storybrooke, he would prepare his ship for departure and be on his way.

The End

A/n: Wow, that turned out WAY longer than I expected! I just couldn't seem to stop! If you want to see what happens next, you can read my two-shot "You Don't Have To Say Goodbye". I hope you all enjoyed this! I tried really really hard on this smut fic, so I'd love to hear your thoughts. :D Thanks for reading!