This was basically a "what if?" inspired by the Sith party on Taris. Bethie M. W., this one's for you--have fun!
By the way, any flames will be used to toast s'mores and hot dogs.
Disclaimer: I don't own KOTOR.
Scouts, Soldiers, and Tarisian Ale
"This Tarisian ale is fantastic! We should've conquered this planet ages ago."~Yun Genda, shortly before passing out at the party.
"You sure can hold your liquor, flyboy," Aliana Calion snickered, her speech slurring a bit. Guess I had a bit more than I can handle.
"You're not so bad yourself," Carth Onasi, her commanding officer and only ally on this hell-hole, replied, his speech also a little off. They were stumbling back to their hideout after raiding a Sith party on the other side of the city. Aliana had had to turn on all the charm she had to even get the invitation in the first place, and keep people at the party from guessing the real objective, but the effort had paid off—they were now two Sith uniforms and several credits richer than they had been.
"Let's just get back to a bed so I can pass out," she mumbled, feeling the liquor beginning to take effect. She was thankful she'd stopped when she had, otherwise she'd have been out cold by now. Once before on one of her scouting missions, Aliana had tried Tarisian ale—and vowed never to touch it again. If only I'd remembered how bad it was that first time, maybe I wouldn't've even gone near that party, she thought through what felt like a brain full of fuzz.
"Jus' a few more steps, gorgeous," the buzzed pilot muttered. His head was clearer than his partner's, but not by much—and only because he'd mostly pretended to drink, being preoccupied with watching the enemy as much as possible. Let's hope we never do this again, he thought as he fumbled with the door control.
The minute the door opened, Aliana darted—well, stumbled, actually—for the 'fresher, prompted by an overeager bladder. Carth removed his pistols (which he still found it odd that no one cared if anyone walked around armed on this planet) and placed them on the table, before sliding off his jacket. He sat down to remove his boots—and completely missed the chair on the way down. The resounding thud echoed around the apartment, and Carth suddenly found himself on the floor with a sore behind.
"Damn it!" he muttered from his new position on the ground, then proceeded to tug off his boots. A giggle from the direction of the 'fresher made his head snap around. Aliana was standing there, black hair floating around her head in a dark halo, her leather vest and vibroblades gone, giggling at the pilot on the floor.
"Having problems, flyboy?" she slurred as she stumbled over to him. The inebriated scout extended a hand to help him up; Carth, the liquor simultaneously dulling his common sense and making him bold, pulled her down on top of him.
"I think you're the one having problems, beautiful," he smirked. Aliana smiled blearily back and moved so that her entire body was pressed against the length of the pilot.
"I'm not the one pinned to the floor, now, am I?" Carth took the bait and rolled her onto her back, pinning her to the floor with her hands above her head.
Aliana lifted one eyebrow and smiled sheepishly. "I'm feeling a little weird right now, flyboy." Of course, it certainly wasn't the 'bad' kind of weird, she was actually enjoying herself. That's interesting, thought he took his blasters off already, she thought hazily when she felt something stiff against her abdomen—it took her a few seconds in her drunken state to realize that her partner's blasters were in fact on the table. Oh, wow, not bad flyboy, was all she could think.
"It's the liquor," he replied, knowing exactly what Aliana was talking about, and knowing it was already too late to disguise exactly what his inebriated body had in mind. Deciding he couldn't resist, he lowered his head and kissed her.
It wasn't the most romantic or passionate of kisses, but Aliana enjoyed it and gave back as good as she got—or as well as she could with her hands pinned to the floor. When they finally broke apart, she grinned at the slightly dazed pilot.
"Not bad, flyboy," she murmured huskily.
"You're not so bad yourself," Carth replied, getting up and offering a hand to help her up. When she grabbed it, he pulled her close for another kiss, pinning her to a wall as his hands cupped her head. Aliana responded eagerly, arching her body against his, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling his head down for easier access. Carth groaned when he felt her rubbing against his erection. His hands left her face and began undoing her tunic before he even realized what he was doing. With an effort he pulled away, in spite of the liquor and his arousal tugging him in the opposite direction.
"Carth, don't stop," Aliana begged. The pilot put one hand to her lips, stopping any further protests.
"I don't want to stop, gorgeous, but I'm a bit more sober than you are at the moment," he murmured, placing a few kisses on her forehead. Damn, gorgeous, you make it hard to do the right thing. "You're probably not going to remember a thing tomorrow, and I don't want to do anything you'll regret."
"I'm a big girl, flyboy," she replied, dropping one hand down to lightly stroke the bulge in Carth's trousers; the pilot groaned in response. "I may not remember, but I won't regret anything." She tugged at the black, military-regulation undershirt Carth was wearing, moaning in frustration when he stopped her. This time, though, he tugged her in the direction of the only bed in the abandoned apartment. Gently, the pilot shoved her onto the bed, removing the unfastened tunic and working his way down to her leggings; Aliana's hands were busy with his pants, and within minutes both of them were clad in their undergarments. Shortly thereafter they were wearing absolutely nothing, and Carth's hands were roaming every inch of skin he could find.
Aliana whimpered when his tongue flicked across the tip of her breast, then gasped when his mouth closed around it. Her back arched, and she moaned when he moved to the other one, licking and teasing her, doing absolutely evil things with his tongue that she never thought possible. She ran her hands over a broad, muscular chest lightly sprinkled with brown hair, giggling when she heard him gasp.
"Ticklish, are we?" she murmured coyly.
"I'll never admit…" Carth gasped when she leaned forward and ran her tongue along his collarbone, nibbling a path down his chest. He felt her fingers lightly grazing his arousal, and groaned when she took him in hand. Deciding that enough was enough, he gripped her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand, using the other to continue his explorations of her body.
"Mmmm…oh yes…that's it, flyboy," she moaned when the pilot's hand dipped between her legs, then she moaned loudly when he began stroking. He chuckled, teasing her and smiling as she screamed her climax. Carth didn't waste a moment after that, but drove himself deep inside a warm, pliant body. He waited just long enough for Aliana to adjust to him, then began moving. She arched her hips, moving with each stroke he made, even as he fell into a rhythm he thought he'd forgotten long ago. Senses vanished, logic spiraled away, and both the soldier and the scout found their way into peaceful, restful oblivion.
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Carth woke to an early sunbeam playing across his face, and a soft breath by his shoulder. Memory flooded back instantly when he felt bare breasts pressed against his bare body: the party, Aliana on top of him…Damn, what have I done? A glance to his left revealed a sleeping Aliana curled up against his side, a look of contented peace on her face. Not wanting to disturb her pleasant dreams—and feeling more than a little guilty for what he'd done—Carth gently disentangled himself from the sleeping woman's limbs, gathered up his clothes, and headed for the 'fresher.
Aliana woke up slowly to a pounding headache, and a delicious soreness in her lower body. "Note to self, don't ever drink Tarisian ale again," she muttered holding one hand to her head and trying to dress with the other. Finally she gave up on the headache and pulled on her undergarments, leggings, and tunic. Okay, think back to last night: went to a party, got some uniforms, so what happened? When did I get naked, and with whom, and where's…Carth!
"You okay," Carth asked, exiting the 'fresher.
"Hung over as hell, but fine otherwise," she replied. "What all did I do last night?"
"You went to the party, had some fun, and we met up later and I got you home," Carth lied, feeling guilty about not telling her the truth.
"Then why did I wake up with nothing on, flyboy?" she smirked, heading for the 'fresher. She was starting to remember a few things from last night, and could guess at the rest of it, but she'd let Carth try and rationalize it. He probably feels guilty, so he's hiding it, she mused as she looked for something to ease the pain in her head. Finding a couple of low-level painkillers someone had left behind, she downed them to take care of her hangover and finished getting ready for the day.