I was inspired to write this little fic from the various clips between Colin & Jen at SDCC joking about Hook wanting to try out the Dark Swan wardrobe. Canonverse-set at a point after Emma's darkness is vanquished. Rated M.

She really should just sneak back to the front door, and re-enter with a bigger commotion.

Should.

At least, that had been her intention—wasn't that a natural reaction stumbling in on your boyfriend trussed up in your lingerie, checking himself out in your bedroom's full-length mirror? It wasn't like Emma had ever gotten to the point of having a live-in boyfriend, much less catching one of them laced up into a black satin corset—and looking only marginally less amazing than she did in it.

They'd only been sharing the same living quarters for three months, almost immediately after Killian had pulled her back from the darkness for good. After everything that they had undergone together, she couldn't imagine going back to her parents' loft, sharing their cramped quarters. She wanted to see his face at the beginning and end of each day, fall asleep to the steady rise and fall of his breathing, chest hair tickling her nose. And naturally, the man in question hadn't needed much convincing.

Though she wouldn't deny that the Dark One wardrobe that had been foisted upon her with the role did fantastic things for her figure, she'd thought it best to remove all reminders of her stint in dark magic. And she would've guessed Killian felt the same. Nevertheless, all that gorgeous leather…and satin…and silk…and lace…. Emma just hadn't been able to bring herself to toss those outfits into the garbage, no matter what they were associated with. Instead, she'd tucked them into a bottom bin in the closet, behind a whole rack of winter coats. But of course, Killian had sniffed them out. Pirate, love.

Besides the corset, he'd donned a pair of sheer black stockings, which on him only came up to just over his knees. A black robe that matched the corset, which was short even on her, hung just to the curve of his ass. Emma spotted the telltale little black bows of her garter belt's fasteners hanging below the robe's hem, swaying around his muscled thighs. And if the robe length and unimpeded garter straps were anything to go by, he probably had none of his own underwear beneath…. She pressed her knuckles firmly to her lips, mouth suddenly dry. Should she be finding this whole scenario so freakin'hot? Maybe a discussion about all this really was the best choice, once she'd allowed herself to cool down—

With one shaky step back, the toe of her flat brown boot knocked the corner of the door, and an audible creak broke the silence. Too late to make a mad dash for it now.

Killian looked casually over his shoulder at her. "Was wondering when you were going to announce your presence, darling."

"How—how did you—"

He tapped the curve of his hook against the side of his head. "Decades and decades' of practice at honing my senses."

Emma was sure her face was tomato red; flustered, she glanced down, rubbing at her heated cheeks. "Well, why didn't you say something?"

"When you didn't burst in demanding what I was on about, or run screaming from the house—come to think of it, why didn't you? Isn't this"—he finally turned and gestured down at himself—"considered odd in your world? I know it would be even back in the Enchanted Forest."

But she wanted some of her own questions answered first. "Can I ask what—what made you want to…?"

Killian glanced sheepishly down at his stocking-clad feet, reached up to scratch behind his ear. "Well…love, for all the desperation and worry I felt when you were in the clutches of that—that—"

"Unadulterated, incomprehensible evil in its basest form?"

"That's the one. Believe me, I tried to keep a clear head the whole way throughout the mission to get you back to, well, you, but…there was something about the way you—the way you carried yourself. Your stride, your posture, and yes, your attire: you appeared—were—dangerous. But there was also something about that sight that made it, er…deeply arousing." He tried to smile, then began to fiddle with the ends of the sash. "It was foolish, but I suppose I wanted a taste of what that could be like…what you were feeling. Er, perhaps."

Yes, Emma had certainly never encountered a dilemma like this before with any past partners—the few that were around long enough to be called one—but this was different. He was different. And besides his motives being kinda sweet, he did cut just as intriguing a figure in her intimates, to her, as he once had in that sweeping, leather pirate coat. And if he thought he'd been aroused… Emma's brain blanked for a moment, gaze fixated on the loosely tied sash at his waist. Just a single, sharp tug—

"Love?" Killian had one brow raised in question, as though he was starting to get the gist of what was going through her mind. Yet when he raised a hand to scratch nervously behind his ear, she found enough of her voice again to reassure him.

"I—I suppose it might be considered weird to some people. But," she started towards him in stealthy strides, stalking her prey now, "I'm not some people."

And then—she couldn't help it—the tip of her tongue darted out to lick along the seam of her lips.

His sky blue eyes darkened to an ocean hue as they followed the movement. "Emma Swan," he said incredulously, "are you saying you like the image of me done up in your undergarments?"

She was finally standing toe-to-toe, nose-to-nose with him, and Emma forced herself to keep eye contact, wanting to remember his reactions. "Not just any undergarments," she murmured, her hands trailing to the hard planes of his chest. "My Dark One undergarments." She curled her fingers into his chest hair until he let out a low growl. "All of those tight, shiny fabrics…all those straps and snaps and zippers, just begging to be undone…" She let one hand continue on the path she'd started, trailing down the middle of the robe, parting it as she went, til her hand landed on the knotted sash.

Killian dropped his head back, Adam's apple bobbing. When he finally spoke, it was through gritted teeth. "I never imagined I…you…you are a bloody glorious woman, Swan, and I don't deserve—"

With that, Emma whipped off the sash with a flourish, almost jumping up and down when her earlier speculation proved correct—he'd indeed gone commando. And she didn't want him to start babbling; the fact of the matter was, he'd gotten her all hot and bothered, and she was going to do see that to a pleasurable end. She pressed her fingertips into his shoulders, walking him backwards until the backs of his knees hit their bed, and he tumbled onto it with a soft grunt.

He rose up on his elbows, and held out his good hand towards her. "C'mere, love. I want—"

Emma stood between his legs, one knee on the mattress, and folded her arms. "Uh-uh, Captain. Don't you want a demonstration of my appreciation for the sexy show you put on for me?"

"Well yes, but—"

"Alright, then!" Emma dropped her knees to the floor, and spread the robe completely to the sides. His cock sprung up as soon as the last bit of material was out of the way, and she gleefully grasped it, guiding the head to her lips.

At the first touch of her tongue against the underside, Killian collapsed onto his back again with a loud groan, palm pressed to his forehead. "Gods, Swan," he groaned at a particularly enthusiastic swirl around the tip. "If I knew this would be what awaited me once—"

Emma lifted off him for a split second. "Shut up, Killian. Just lie back, and enjoy it."

"I—bloody fuck," he bit out once she lowered her mouth to him again, hook digging into the wooden bedframe. "Good, always so—"

With Killian's praise ringing in her ears, Emma blindly ran a hand up his leg, pulling tightly on one of the garter straps. Her other hand held Killian's shaft firmly, pulling him deep, guiding him into a fast-approaching, mind-blowing orgasm.

He came with a gutteral shout, and Emma pulled back with a satisfied laugh, resting her cheek on his nylon-clad thigh.

Killian hauled himself up into a sitting position, panting. "That—that was…"

"I know." Emma hopped to her feet, and Killian swiftly grabbed her hand.

"Where're you trying to run off to? I believe it's my turn."

Emma twisted free, stopping at the doorway to flash him a coy smirk. "I just thought if you were still in the mood for dress-up…I kept my leather stiletto boots in the broom closet."

Taking his slackjawed expression as an affirmative, she made to leave the room again, until:

"While you're at it, darling? A request from your humble lover."

Emma quirked a brow. "A request?"

"Aye. I found your fishnets stashed in the linen drawer."