He's An Arrangement

Friends Help Friends

If you're wondering when my other story, "We're Not Romeo and Juliet" will be updated, please check the end.

"You're not worried for her?" Robin asked his friend as the two finished the last of the spaghetti from the old, italian place next door. The garlic smell drifting into the apartment complex, sinking it's scent into the rooms just ever so slightly.

Killian shook his head, flinging a meatball at David absently, "Of course I am! I've tried getting her help, she refuses," he couldn't stop thinking of Emma. No matter what. Even if she wasn't anything more than a pleasure partner.

The three men sat across a grey couch in David and Mary Margaret's apartment. Killian was the youngest of the bunch, holding the age of twenty-seven. David, to his left, was the oldest and topped the charts at the big thirty. Robin filed in the center, to Killian's right, at twenty-eight. They were all close in age, all in "committed relationships". Robin and Regina were engaged, David married to Mary Margaret, and Killian... well, his predicament has been pre-explained.

"You can't keep dragging Milah along with you too," David insisted, throwing off his newly tomato-stained shirt. It landed on the coffee table, a to-go box skidding off the surface on impact.

Robin nodded in agreement, "Divorce isn't so bad, Killian. I've been through it! You don't even have to worry about kids."

"The money, Robin! The money!" He groaned, clenching his eyes, forming a headache just at the thought.

"We'll help you with anything you need," David patted his shoulder sympathetically.

The door swung open and in came Mary Margaret and Regina, "Hey, boys," Regina waved a hand as she swung her purse onto a chair. Tampons, dollar bills, gum, and tissues came spilling out as the item went tumbling to the floor, "I couldn't give a damn less," she giggled, racing over to Robin.

She took a seat in his lap, instantly connecting her mouth to his. Mary Margaret fled to David, planting kisses softly on his lips.

Killian picked up his beer bottle and a slice of pizza, moving away from the two couples. He trudged up the stairs into the loft and took a seat on the edge of what could be labeled as his bed. He sure as hell spends enough time for it to be in his possession. The bed was warm and inviting. Mary Margaret had left a few items on the night stand. "The Essentials" she had called them with a wink. A glass of water, pajamas and... a condom. Of course. He couldn't help but laugh slightly.

He tore the condom package open and headed to the small half bathroom. Killian opened the sleek item and turning on the cold water. The liquid filled the condom until it was a huge ball of jiggles, and extremely heavy.

Killian brought it back to the ledge, positioning over top Mary Margaret's head. He dropped the ball, watching it fly to where she sat on David's knee.

And it just missed.

It landed with a plop, being torn open with a splash. Killian ducked down, hearing David groan about how he'd have to clean it up. Robin erupted in his speech that'd he wouldn't of missed.

Another girl's laughter erupted. It was laced with liquor. Another's joined that. It was sober and combined with the drunken one.

"Get down here, troublemaker!" Mary Margaret yelled. He came on command, running down the steps. His bare feet hitting the metal.

He froze, seeing the two girls. One being Mary Margaret's best friend, Ruby, and the other being Emma. Killian shook his head, clearing his mind, "Seems as though we're running into one another quite a lot today, Ms. Swan."

"That's her?" Robin yelled out, pointing a finger at the blonde minx. Emma's cheeks cast a shade of red at the assumption.

David's eyes widened, "That's the one you're having sex with?" Immediately after he clasped a hand over his mouth, a muffled "sorry" coming out.

"Ruby, I should... go," Emma mumbled, her head down in embarrassment. She wore the same dress as this morning, curls in a mess over her head. She was the sober one.

All the girls shook their heads, "No! Don't leave!" Mary Margaret belched out.

Ruby nodded, "Just ignore the boys! They're rude all the time," she giggled, flipping her hair around drunkenly.

"Don't worry, we've all had little flings," Regina eyed Killian and Emma, "So, you two totally need a ship name."

Both of the accused shook their heads, "We're not a... thing," Emma said, taking a seat on a bar stool next to Ruby.

Killian nodded in agreement, "Aye. Nothing going on between us," He cleared his throat, feeling it go raw.

"Alright, we've got a sailor and a swan," David grinned, taking out a notepad, "We're going to vote on ship names!"

"Kilian's a sailor?" Ruby questioned.

David nodded, "Ever since he was little."
"Hot," Ruby muttered, wriggling her eyebrows, "with the extra "t"," she giggled.
He wrote down two different names, then passed the notebook around. Everyone giggled, leaving a tally under the one they wanted.

It passed Emma, coming to an end halt at Killian. He looked over the two names, "Sailing Swan," and "Captain Swan". He fidgeted with the Holiday Inn pen before ticking off "Captain Swan", not knowing if he should or not.

"Hand it back, mate," Robin acknowledged, taking the paper from his hand. He smirked, looking over the two phrases, "We've got a winner!"

He flailed the note in the air, "Captain Swan!" Robin screamed, beginning to chant it. David joined in. And Regina. Ruby. Even Mary Margaret. Killian stood up, taking a flask with him, dumping the rum into his beer bottle.

"Hand me some of that," Emma mumbled, rising from the bar stool. She strode over to him, "I need some."

They left the group, able to slip away. Their friends whistled, laughing all the way, still chanting "Captain Swan". They didn't mean any harm. Of course not. They care for Killian. They want the best for him.

best

best/

adjective

of the most excellent, effective, or desirable type or quality.

Yes, they want him to be the most excellent he can. However, they know his love life won't be as desirable if he stays with his long-distance wife.

Emma and Killian both trudged back up the loft steps, "Who stays here?" She asked, situating herself on the side of the bed.

"It's an extra bed, but I'm here more than anyone else. Was even helping with the electric bills for a bit," he chuckled.

She nodded, finding herself looking into his eyes. He bent down, hand on her cheek, "Killian..."
"Yes?" They both scooted closer, till her bent legs touched his. Till their noses bumped. Till heat radiated from their bodies.

"We can't... have sex... here," she leaned her forehead against his, taking in a breath. Her gaze fell to the floor. To her feet. They shuffled, her toes hitting his.

"Not everything is sex, Emma," he raised her chin, connecting his lips to her's. Closing his eyes, taking in her sweet scent. Of vanilla, and berries of all kind. A slight tingle of rum laced her lips.

She pulled away, "Everything between us is just that. Sex."

With that, she left the room, joining the cloud of people.

Blending in. 

As soon as this story gets started, maybe when it's on it's fifth part, I'll continue "We're Not Romeo and Juliet". 

What'd you think? I LOVED writing this part. I'm having so much fun with this book, and hope you are enjoying it as well!