still got it
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @bleebug! I hope you’ve been having a fantastic day! This was just supposed to be some fluffy Old Hook stuff, but then it ran away from me and got feelz-y and CS-y. So I hope you like it and that you have an absolutely wonderful birthday!
Summary: Elderly gentleman Killian Jones is not the devilishly handsome scoundrel he was as a young man. But he still seems to have caught the eye of a silver-haired beauty at the pub, though he’s not sure why. She plans on showing him. (Old CS fic; light M; 2.1 k; AO3)
There was some activity in the pub around him, but otherwise the bar was quiet—perfect for leaving an old man alone with his thoughts and memories. Granted, Killian Jones had probably had far too much of that in his life, but the solitude was fine company for another night.
So he sipped his ale while nestled in the corner of a booth, observing the other patrons and laughing at the young men’s attempts at wooing the fairer sex. Not that he was a particularly fine example of a man, but he had been in his youth: trim, handsome, and all too aware of it. He’d taken such pride in his appearance back then, but lately had found himself wondering—where had that scoundrel gone?
“Is this seat taken?” a woman asked, and he glanced around until realizing she was talking to him; it had been quite some time since that happened. Before him stood what was surely an angel: a gorgeous woman, about his age judging by the lines on her face and the silver of her braided hair, with soft curves and an ample bosom supported by what was clearly supposed to be a peasant’s costume of a maroon corset and patchwork skirt, but the materials were too fine to belong to anyone not of high standing. He didn’t mean to leer, but he was rendered speechless not only by her appearance, but by her attention as well.
“Please; be my guest,” he finally replied, gesturing to the open booth across from him. She slid in and he continued, “Apologies for my poor form, milady, but it’s not often a beauty such as yourself seeks company with the humble likes of me.”
“I find that very hard to believe,” she observed, her green eyes sparkling as she raked them over him. “Surely a devilishly handsome gentleman such as yourself has no lack of female companionship.”
He scoffed, but took a sip of his drink to hide the blush rising on his cheeks. He was fairly positive he was far from the eye candy he once was, but if she wanted to play, he could certainly take part in the game. “I can’t say ‘never,’ but it’s been some time. I’ve a question for you, though: what, pray tell, brings a woman of your standing to a disreputable dive such as this?”
“What makes you think I’m anything but a common bar wench?”
“You carry yourself as though you were royal. One might even say you bear a resemblance to the Queen.”
She shrugged and giggled, a girlish thing that was music to his ears. “I get that a lot.”
“As you should.” He hummed for a moment, thinking. “But that doesn’t answer my question: what are you doing here, and with a crusty old pirate like me?”
“I’m looking for some company.”