A/N: I almost didn't publish this seeing as how I've got unfinished works from years (years) ago, but it kept gnawing at my mind until I just wrote it down. This is my first fic, or rather ficlet, in the Once Upon a Time fandom. Thanks for reading, dearies.

"...it's much more pleasant to hear your name whispered in the dark."

- Charles Bukowski, Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame

"Rumpelstiltskin."

His spinning faltered as the small hairs on the back of his neck raised ever so slightly. Being the Dark One, he heard every mention of his name, no matter where it was uttered. Over the years, to keep from going mad, he learned to tune out most of it and only focus on the desperate souls that called for him.

This sounded different though. Shrugging it off, he began to spin again, losing himself in the movement of the wheel.

"Rumpelstiltskin."

There it was again, louder in his mind this time. It was a woman's voice. A voice he had come to know quite well over the last several months – Belle's.

Abandoning the wheel, he made his way upstairs. Could she be in trouble? Did she get stuck in a closet again? It was late in the evening, the hallways lit by candlelight, but he knew his castle well enough that he could maneuver it in pitch black. He headed straight for her room and knocked on the door.

"Belle? What mischief are you up to, dearie?" he called through the door. When there was no answer he opened it and peered inside. It was empty.

"Rumpelstiltskin."

It sounded more urgent this time. He went back into the hall and heard movement a few doors away – the washroom. Pressing his ear to the door, he could hear water splashing. Why would Belle be calling him while she was in the bath? Surely, she didn't expect him to scrub some hard to reach spot on her back, did she? Quite suddenly, he was hit with a mental image of Belle holding her hair up out of the way, her wet back glistening in the light of the torches. He shook his head, trying to clear such thoughts away.

A low moan caught his attention now. Not of pain, but of something else. There it was again and he pressed his ear even harder to the door. Oh, definitely not pain. It was a sound he hadn't heard in a very long time and he certainly wasn't expecting to hear it from the throat of sweet, innocent, Belle. The water sloshed around followed by another moan.

He really should leave. It was unbelievably rude and, not to mention, improper, to eavesdrop on her bathing. She's not exactly bathing at the moment, now is she? This thought came from the darker corner of his mind. Open the door and ask her if she needs a hand.

He hadn't moved yet and he really should because the moans were getting more frequent and the splashes more erratic. Suddenly his leather pants seemed much tighter than normal and he was gripping the doorframe with such force that his fingernails dug into the wood. There was that moan again followed by sigh, then another moan.

She was going to….so close now, he could tell. A barrage of mental images assaulted his brain to go along with the sounds she was making until…

"Rumpelstiltskin…mmmm….Rumpelstiltskin."

Then he was done for – hearing his name, from her lips, in such a fashion and knowing that she had just careened over the edge of pleasure whilst thinking of him. HIM! He clutched a hand over his mouth to stifle his own cry. His pants were now not only tight but warm and wet as well and he hadn't even touched himself.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself away from the door and down the hall to his own bedroom. After cleaning himself up, he looked down at his body. Did she really want this? Why isn't she repulsed by him? Cora hadn't seemed at all repulsed, but she was cunning and blinded by her need for power, regardless of the words of love that had sometimes escaped her lips. Perhaps, one day he would find out what sort of noises Belle would make at his own hand, and other parts of him if he was lucky.

You could just take her. It would be so easy and she obviously wants you too. Yes, he could. He was the Dark One, he could do practically anything. The thought disturbed him though. He didn't want to just take her by force. She already was becoming much more to him than he ever thought she would be or rather should be.

"Can I at least know you?" she had said. Yes, Rumpelstiltskin thought, the man…not the Dark One.

You will know me.