Jill and Lovers

We Got Friday Nights

A little friends to lovers drabble/one shot for @thesschesthair​ cos she likes them and she is awesome!


also on ff.net and ao3


When your best friend is gorgeous, smart and one of the most decent people you’d ever met, it makes sense that people would think you were a couple. Of course every time this happened to Killian Jones and Emma Swan they’d laugh it off and say there was no chance that anything like that could ever happen.

They were friends - for almost five years - and they quite liked it that way.

Only one time, she had seriously considered it.

They were in the middle of this health kick - running a few times a week after Emma had almost collapsed chasing a skip up a fire escape. Killian had offered to run with her - it wasn’t safe for her to be running around on her own, he’d said - she’d rolled her eyes and reminded him that she could take care of herself and that Storybrooke was hardly the crime capital of New England. He’d still insisted on joining her.

One Saturday he’d knocked on her apartment door, too early for the sun even to have peeked over the horizon. The park was deserted as they pounded the trails in companionable silence until it began to rain. A fine mist at first, it quickly graduated into a heavy downpour with large, freezing drops saturating them in seconds as they raced to the cover of the trees.

Killian laughed when she slipped in the mud, his hands coming up to her waist to halt her fall -  they were warm, even through her soaked t-shirt. He was close enough she could really appreciate those damn blue eyes of his that never saw him leave a bar without at least one phone number (wanted or not). His hair had fallen over those eyes. She’d told him a dozen times to cut it and he always just shrugged. Water dripped down those silky tendrils, drizzling across his cheek. Dazed, she’d stared at his perfect face.

For a second, she’d forgotten who he was ( her best friend ) and why they’d never been more than that (she didn’t do relationships or men in general, he just didn’t do commitment). For a moment he was just a handsome, perfect guy who she was very attracted to… so she reached up and brushed away the rogue strands, her fingers sliding down his cheek, reluctant to break the contact. It was okay- just for that moment - to let herself get lost in the smile he gave her and to imagine what it would be like to kiss those lips and for those hands to tighten at her waist and draw her close.

They’d hugged a thousand times. But that was different, because he was her friend and every hug they shared was devoid of that pulling tension she felt right then. Warmth radiated from him as the rain tumbled through the pine trees. She let herself daydream for a few perilous moments about a “them” - a dream of cozy dates and tangled limbs and kisses and-

Then, of course, reality kicked in. The rain vanished, the sun replacing it in the blink of an eye. He’d tugged on her shoulder, rousing her out of the dream as he asked her if she was ready to head back. She’d smiled and nodded, avoiding his gaze until her feet found that rhythm again on the mossy footpaths, each step pushing that idea further away.


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