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Neal stumbled down the stairs and into the crew’s quarters, heading for the room he’d used to sleep in during his time on the Jolly Roger as a boy. Henry was safe, asleep in the Captain’s quarters, they were finally on their way out of Neverland, back to Storybrooke and some kind of normality. Neal was exhausted. He needed sleep and time to think, and more than anything he needed to get the fuck away from Emma and goddamn Hook. Ever since he had watched them fuck by the pool he hadn’t been able to avoid noticing the way they were with each other. The long looks, the little touches, the way they always seemed to be whispering together in corners—how they found corners in the fucking jungle he had no idea, but they did—the way they understood each other without words. They had fucking anticipated each other during the operation to rescue Henry, practically reading each other’s minds as they formulated their plan. Neal ground his teeth. He had told Emma that he would never stop fighting for her, and he meant it. Okay, so he hadn’t ever really technically started fighting for her, but he was going to. As soon as they got back to Storybrooke he would convince her to take Henry and move to New York with him, away from magic, away from his father, far, far away from Hook. He was sure she could be conviced, look at all the trouble she’d gone to to rescue their son, obviously she would want to take him away from anything that could put him in that kind of danger again. And as for Hook, he was just a—a fling, he had to be, just an itch that needed scratching, a flame that would soon burn out. He ignored the voice in his head that whispered how it didn’t look like a fling, not with the softness and affection that was clearly growing between them. How in fact it looked quite a lot like lo—“It’s not!” hissed Neal, “It can’t be.” Emma loved him, she’d said so in the Echo Cave. And yeah, she’d also said she wished he was dead, but emotions had been running high then. He just needed to get her back on his turf, in the real world, then remind her about all they’d had together, all they still had in Henry. She’d see. She’d come back to him, and ditch the fucking pirate. Neal hoped she broke Hook’s fucking heart, or whatever he kept in his chest in place of it.He settled into one of the cots that lined the walls of the crew’s quarters and closed his eyes, ignoring the images that flashed through his head whenever he did, images of Emma in the pirate’s arms, his hand and hook all over her, his cock driving deep inside her. The ecstasy on her face when she’d come on his fingers and around his cock. He shifted uncomfortably on the cot as his own cock hardened. So far he had managed to resist the temptation to jerk off to those memories, but tonight he needed some goddamn relief. Pulling a blanket over him to conceal his actions in case anyone else decided to come down here for a bit of sleep, he undid his jeans and pulled them down, grasping himself firmly. He may not be hung like the pirate but at least he fit in his own hand, he thought, not without some bitterness. He began to pump himself, picturing Emma writhing in ecstasy beneath him this time, begging him to let her come. Telling him how good he was, how much better he fucked than Hook ever could. He grinned at that last bit, pumping himself harder, when the door burst open and the object of his fantasies came through it, with Hook hot on her heels. The door shut again and Emma was immediately slammed back against it, pressed against the wood by Hook’s leather-clad form. She pushed his heavy coat off his shoulders as he kissed a trail up her neck, then she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his mouth up to hers, wrapping her arms around his neck as they kissed, hard and frantic, barely pausing for breath. Goddamn it all, thought Neal. Not again. “We don’t have much time,” gasped Emma, finally pulling her mouth from Hook’s. “David will get suspicious if we’re away too long.” She didn’t actually think her parents weren’t aware of what was going on, did she? scoffed Neal. Like they weren’t exactly being fucking subtle. Everyone knew. Mary Margaret’s sympathetic glances in Neal’s direction had become increasingly pitying of late, and the last time Emma and Hook had returned from “gathering firewood” flushed and mussed and breathless, she had actually squeezed his hand and told him not to lose hope.It was nice that Emma’s mom was on his side, but also it was fucking embarrassing, having both her and David aware that Emma would rather fuck a filthy pirate against a tree than spend time with the father of her child. “We’d best make use of it then,” growled Hook, using his namesake to pull Emma’s shirt up and over her head, tossing it to the side as she unhooked her bra and flung that away. Hook’s eyes immediately went to her bare breasts, his tongue wetting his lower lip and his eyebrows waggling as he reached for her. She batted his hand away and grabbed his own shirt, pulling it off of him before attacking the laces of his trousers. They came undone immediately under her expert fingers and she shoved the trousers down his legs and he kicked them off along with his boots. The instant he was naked she grabbed him, her hands gripping and squeezing his ass as she pulled him in for another kiss. “Gods, love, the feel of your skin against mine is fucking exquisite,” rasped Hook as he kissed down her neck and over the top of her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple before he took it into his mouth. Emma’s head fell back against the door with a thunk and she moaned, her fingers gripping desperately at Hook’s shoulders. “Your mouth should be fucking illegal,” she gasped. “I want it all over me.” “That can be arranged, darling,” murmured Hook around her nipple. He began to kiss down her belly, falling to his knees in front of her, his mouth moving on her soft skin as he undid her jeans and pulled them down. She kicked off her boots and Hook tossed her jeans aside and lifted her bare leg over his shoulder, his hand caressing her thigh as he dragged his hook through the dripping flesh of her core. Neal cringed at the sight of that—thing, that weapon, touching Emma so intimately even as his balls drew up tight at the gasping moans she made as Hook stroked the curve of the metal across her clit. “Killian,” she groaned, “Please.” “As you wish,” he whispered, and buried his face between her legs. Emma keened and Neal felt a stab through his gut as he remembed one of the nights they’d spent in yet another grimy motel room, after Emma had lifted a copy of Cosmopolitan from a gas station down the road. He remembered how her eyes had widened as she’d read an article about oral sex and the shy way she’d shown it to him and asked if they could try it. He’d humoured her with a halfhearted attempt but he hadn’t really known what he was doing down there and had cared even less, and eventually Emma had pulled him up, told him never mind and allowed him to fuck her like normal, with a smile that couldn't quite disguise the disappointment in her eyes. There was no disappointment in those eyes now, only a haze of lust and pleasure as she ran her fingers through Hook’s dark hair, panting and moaning and finally screaming as she came on his face. He continued to lick her—like he actually enjoyed the taste, thought Neal with a shudder—until she came down from her high, then kissed his way back up her body to where she was waiting. She grabbed his face and kissed him hard, licking the traces of her arousal from his lips, and Neal couldn’t stand it any longer. He was disgusted but also intensely turned on, and he pumped himself hard as Emma and Hook kissed, softer than before but still brimming with passion, their hands roaming each other’s bodies. Emma began to stroke Hook’s cock, running the tip of it through her wet folds, and that was all it took. Neal came hard, trying to muffle his cry in his pillow but unable to stifle it completely. Emma’s eyes flew to where he was concealed beneath the blanket, went wide for a moment then narrowed in sudden suspicion. Neal didn’t think she could see him in the darkened room, but then she whispered something in Hook’s ear and the pirate’s blue gaze flitted over to the bunk where Neal was still trying to catch his breath and he smirked in a way that Neal found very unsettling. Emma pulled his mouth back to hers and their kisses and touches soon became more desperate. “Fuck me now, Killian,” Emma gasped, lifting her leg up over his hip. “I want to feel you inside me.” He grasped her other thigh and hoisted her up until her legs were wrapped around his waist, quickly positioned himself and then thrust inside her, slamming her ass hard against the door. “God, that feels good,” she moaned, her eyes fixed on the exact spot where Neal was hiding. “Nothing has ever felt as good as you inside me. Ever.”Hook groaned and picked up the pace of his thrusts, turning his head to bury his face in her hair as he fucked her relentlessly. Emma tried to keep her gaze on Neal’s hiding spot but soon her eyes were fluttering shut and she was humming with pleasure, her hips rocking up to meet Hook’s thrusts as she chased her high. “Fuck, I’m close,” she cried, shifting her hips as Hook hoisted her up higher, slamming into her harder, both of them groaning at the new angle. “I could never get enough of you,” Hook growled against her neck. “Of the way you feel around me, soft as velvet and so bloody hot. Emma. Gods, I—” He broke off, but Emma stroked his hair and pressed her lips to his temple. “I know,” she said softly, and Neal could tell that her attention was now entirely on the man in her arms, that he had been forgotten. “Me too.” Hook thrust into her once, twice, three more times and then they were coming apart in each other’s arms, clinging together until their breathing calmed, leaning against the door for support until some of their strength returned. Emma unwrapped her legs from Hook’s waist and slid down him, wrapped her arms around him in their place and snuggled into his chest. Hook held her close, stroking her hair, murmuring into her ear as he had done by the pool, only this time Neal could hear the words he spoke. “So beautiful my Emma, my gorgeous Swan,” he whispered. “You’re so brilliant, darling, incredible, I want you endlessly, need you so bloody much.” “I need you, Killian.” Emma’s voice was so soft that Neal had to shift beneath the blanket to hear her, stifling a curse as he rolled into the sticky pool of semen on the cot beside him. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you these past weeks. You helped us save Henry—” she broke off as tears sprang into her eyes and she choked on a sob. “Shhh, love.” Hook cradled her gently as she cried against his chest. “The lad is safe now and we’ll soon have him home. Don’t cry, my darling, it’s all right now.”They cuddled for a few moments more, then Emma sniffled and wiped her cheeks, pulled back from Hook’s embrace and smiled wryly. “We’d better get back,” she said, “Before David sends out a search party.” “Aye.” Hook tucked her hair behind her ear, then turned and pulled a cloth out of a trunk behind him, handing it to Emma. She cleaned herself up as he quickly dressed and collected her clothes, swapping them for the cloth when she was finished. “You go first,” she said. “I’ll be up soon.” Hook leaned in and kissed her softly, lingering as she curled her hand around his neck and opened her mouth beneath his. Breaking apart after a drawn-out moment they leaned their foreheads together, smiling into each other’s eyes. “See you soon, love,” said Hook, stepping back. Emma nodded and moved aside so he could get to the door. Once it had closed behind him her soft expression hardened, and she looked back over to where Neal was. “I hope you enjoyed the show,” she said, placing a fist on her hip, forgetting—or not caring—that she was still naked. Neal let his eyes linger on her body, thinking with a start of surprise that she might actually be more beautiful now than she had been at sixteen. Her skin was less firm, her breasts heavier, her stretch marks noticeable even from a distance, but something about how she held herself and the obvious way she gave no fucks was incredibly sexy. Neal felt a little stab of something pierce his belly. Something that felt uncomfortably like the dawning realisation of what he’d lost when he let Emma go. No, not what he’d lost, what he’d actively given up. Emma had loved him, back then. Maybe if he hadn’t fucked everything up she still would. “Look your fill,” mocked Emma, sneering in his direction. “Get a good eyeful, be sure to catch every detail.” Slowly she stepped into her panties, brushing her hair over her shoulder as she bent over, breasts bobbing. Neal could see the beard burn and small bruises Hook had left on her soft skin and he felt his cock twitch to life again. His breath hitched as Emma slipped into her bra, shaking her breasts into the lace cups then lifted her arms and arched her back as she let her shirt slide on. She bent to pick up her jeans, turning so Neal had a perfect view of her firm ass. He swallowed hard as Emma shimmied into the tight denim. She picked up her boots and flipped her hair over her shoulder, then skewered Neal with her stare once again. “And that is the very last time you’ll be seeing me naked,” she said coldly. “Unless you decide to spy on me and Killian again. We know you were at the pool, you move like a herd of elephants.” Neal remained still, unsure of what to do, and Emma made a disgusted noise. “Just stay away from us,” she said. “When we get back to Storybrooke we can talk about custody and visitation for Henry, but make no mistake, Neal, you and I are over. Done. Finito. I don’t know if Killian and I have a future together but I am one hundred percent certain that you and I do not have one.” She turned on her heel and left the room, slamming the door behind her. Neal lay on the cot for the rest of the night, writhing in humiliation, half-hard and covered in his own cum, and wondered where exactly his life had gone so fucking wrong.