Killian has a canon confirmed clothes on kink and I am not handling it well.
leave it
It starts with her socks. The thick ones that pull to just under her knees and slip down and bunch around her ankles as she shuffles across the kitchen, nursing a cup of tea with just a bit of honey and far too much sugar. She can feel him watching her from his place slouched in the corner of the couch, legs crossed at the ankles and book resting lightly on his lap, thumb tapping against his bottom lip in consideration.
When he stands it’s slowly, methodical and with precision. It’s the same way he moves when he’s setting the lines on his ship, how he places his books on the shelf just above the fireplace.