Yep, it's a CS Neighbors AU, you caught me. There also happens to be no curse, they all live in Storybrooke though, the relationship between Emma and Mary-Margaret and David is best friends/original roommate basis, Killian has both hands, and I think I've covered all the need-to-know bases. I hope you like it. Thank you for reading!
"Henry? Henry! Get the essentials first, I don't want to be surrounded by random junk we don't even use late tonight and still not have a toothbrush, got it?" There was a silent pause. "Henry!"
"Yeah mom I got it!"
The yelling of his clearly new and very annoying neighbors weren't nearly as muffled by the walls as Killian Jones would like them to be. With an exasperated groan he rolled over in his dark bed and yanked one of the pillows of his pounding head in the hopes of blocking out some of the noise.
"Hey mom, this counts as essential, right!"
"Kinda busy kid, I'll check in a second!"
"Oh, bloody buggering hell!" Jones threw his pillow off the bed and rolled up into a sitting position.
What time is it anyway, 10:34? Who the hell gets up this early on Saturdays? Groggily he grabbed his button-down from the night prior and flung it on over is shoulders, halfheartedly buttoning a few of the bottom ones as he wandered into the kitchen for Advil and coffee.
"Mom, I can't reach the dishes!"
"Coming!"
A tired, jumbled curse came out of Killian's mouth as he rest his head against the cupboard. Okay coffee can wait, telling this people to shut up can't. Half stumbling to his front door he flung it open just as a lovely blonde decided she was going to trip.
Emma was a hot mess, emphasis on the mess, moving day had to be her least favorite of days, which was probably why she'd stayed with Mary-Margaret far longer than she should have. Sadly though Henry was entering into puberty, he was a pretty smart kid, and her old roommate and fiancée weren't exactly subtle in their nighttime activities. That, and with the upcoming wedding all four of them crammed into that apartment would be a bit too cozy. Back to the moving in though, it sucked. The lifting oversized boxes of crap they didn't even need, the panicking on where it all was going to go, and not to mention the nosy neighbors, which were sure to show up any moment now, what with all the commotion she and Henry were causing. The very last thing she needed at this moment was to be losing her balance, getting her caught foot on the ugly, stupid hallway runner, all while carrying the box of very breakable, glass dishes, and fall flat on her face. Strangely the last part as she'd seen coming, didn't happen. Instead, a strong arm wrapped around the back of her, cradling her almost and stopping her fall, and a large hand grabbed the corner of the box to keep it from sliding out of her hands. Emma found herself looking into two very blue eyes.
"Thanks." She hated how breathy her voice sounded in that moment, she was not some dame in need of saving thank-you-very-much.
"Not a problem, love." The deliciously smooth, lilting accent was not what she was expecting, but she sure as hell wasn't about to object.
Realizing she was still leaning into him, him still holding her, she quickly scrambled and positioned herself upright, and two steps back, just for safe measure. "I, uh, I'm-"
"Sherriff Swan." He said oh-so-matter-of-fact and leaned casually against his doorframe.
Emma couldn't help but take the lot of him in, mussed, black, sex-hair, some stubble, lean muscles, broad chest covered in- wait why could she see his entire chest? She did a quick once over and realized that her neighbor was fairly indecent, two buttons buttoned haphazardly at the bottom of his shirt and grey sweatpants hanging obscenely low. Glancing up at his face once more she noticed he seemed somewhat familiar.
"And you are?" Her reply came out more snappish than she meant it to, but for chrissakes but a damn shirt on properly!
His mock-pout would have impressed well practiced pickpockets from Oliver Twist. "You wound me, Swan, I thought I'd be your favorite prisoner."
The cogs in her head slowly started to turn. "So, I've arrested you?"
"Aye, twice, once for public intoxication, the second for public intoxication and fighting."
"Charming." She muttered.
"I prefer dashing, perhaps even devilish."
"Right, whatever, what's your name again?"
"Killian Jones." He finally offered and stepped forward into her space.
Before she could reply the box she had been straining to hold onto was lifted out of her hands. "Hey, what the-"
"Fairly certain my older brother would rip me a new one if he knew I was allowing a fair lass like you to do all the heavy-lifting, while I stand idly by." He explained, hoisting the box up onto his shoulder. "Where do you want it?"
"So now you're going to be a gentleman?"
"I thought that was what I'd been doing since I caught you, and I'm always a gentleman." He winked.
Emma crossed her arms in front of her. "Fine, but this isn't going to make me forget about those arrests."
He chuckled. "Hadn't crossed my mind, Sherriff."
