Ask Two Sith In A Kitchen

[Drane T'keen]

Spoiler: Music IC

Finally, the puppet went quiet, and the broken man and the torn woman stopped moving, stopped speaking, stopped eating.

Drane took Cheriss’ hand in his, shifted it down his arm, to his chest, as he had only moments ago done when he was about to put himself inside her.

Only now, he simply let her feel his heartbeat, to remind them both that they were alive, that this might not simply be some dream.

Maybe that’s why he was so terrified.

“I…can’t…Cheriss…”

Drane admitted, eyes into eyes.

“I can’t even remember how we got into the kitchen to begin with. I only remember as far back as…”

His golden irises brightened. He could feel them widen. Not his eyelids. His irises.

“A pot of coffee. A pot for cooking things in. Pour a cup. Take a sip.”

He blinked at Cheriss, expressionless.

“Delicious.”

As music played in the kitchen.

@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

It was quiet again, and Cheriss didn’t know if she liked it. The man and woman on the floor had stopped moving, stopped eating each other, and the puppet had stopped laughing and spinning. What was this?

She could only look to Drane, and she was glad to feel the rhythm of his heartbeat in his chest, but he gave her the answer she had feared.

“Oh.” Her voice broke and she closed her eyes. Cheriss couldn’t remember anything from before, either. All she knew was that she and Drane were in the kitchen together, and she did remember him offering her coffee. Already that felt like years ago. Delicious… Even the same music was playing.

Cheriss looked up at him again and saw that his irises had widened. Yet there was nothing on his face. Did he feel the same fear that she did? Sith were supposed to be fear, not feel it, but she knew as well as he did that it was futile in denying it now.

She slid her hand out from under his and instead wrapped both arms around his body in an embrace, resting her cheek on his shoulder. She just needed a moment to breathe him in again, to remind herself that there was something that could bring her comfort in this place.

@Die Shize

 

[Drane T'keen]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Fear. The fear of the apprentice. Of punishment. Failure. The fears in the person. Of loss of loved ones as with Anakin. Loss of power. Humanity as with Vader. The fear of the person. A tool to gain power. Using it. Just as Sith do.

Yet a true Sith, whether Sith, Human or Thyrsian, commanded both fear and respect. He knew balance. That kept him from becoming weakened. In the end, those Sith ended up dead. Too much fear led to resistance, resentment, rebellion. It made them…tyrants.

That’s what Sidious was. Was that what Altair was? Drane had entered this game of thrones putting down a rebellion before the Sith-Empire split. He didn't hesitate or waver with his loyalty to Empress and Dark Lord. Yet he was ever a warrior for the Sith Order over the Empire. Who were the true traitors?

Maybe Drane’s strength was being drained this moment, as he became the fear he craved from his opponents, he wondered if all of this, from kitchen to puppet, was a hallucination, a vision, a dream, from spice maybe, or a simulation, something that wasn’t actually happening, like floating in a sea of Sith alchemy.

“Am I…in a dream…Cheriss?”

He kissed her atop her head, her face buried at the crook of his neck. His golden irises sought her chocolate almonds, wanted to devour them, to take her right there and then.

She looked so delicious in his own shirt. He could rip those buttons in an instant, squeeze her breasts, then her hips, and slam her against the wall in their hall and moan between her lips.

Because that was their kitchen and that bloody puppet had ruined their moment in it.

Fear motivated the Sith, and the deeper its depths, the deeper the sea of his heavy memories and buried secrets, made that fear as cherished as Cheriss as Drane pictured her belly rubbing against his, her hips gyrating and grinding with his.

“These violent delights…”

Spoke a voice. It croaked.

“What…is…that..?”

It came from the kitchen.

But...wait...there had been no one and nothing in the kitchen except for the broken man and the broken droid, and they were motionless on the floor with the severed woman so...where had this other creature come from?

“...Have violent ends."

Drane pointed.

"Nice...dress..?"

Her hand shot up in an instant as Drane was sent flying down the hallway the next moment. Had he anticipated his opponent knowing those tricks then he might have resisted it, whatever Cheriss did.

@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

Was this a dream? Drane asked her the same question that she’d asked him earlier. Maybe in different words, but it meant the same thing.

“I don’t know.” What was a dream? Cheriss didn’t know that now, either. Before, when they were in their kitchen, she’d been prepared to let reality go. To pretend that she was living a fantasy world, living in a dream. It was too good to be true. But now she didn’t know whether anything that had happened in there, what was happening now in the hall, was real or fake. Maybe this was all just some hallucination that she would wake up from soon enough. Was it still a dream if she felt fear? Or was it a nightmare? She blinked a few times, trying to wake herself up.

But she couldn’t. She didn’t know if she wanted to wake up. And Drane felt so real. She felt the cold sweat on his skin, the heat of his chest, and the hard muscle beneath his soft flesh. His gentle kiss. She hugged him tight the way a little girl who was afraid of the dark clung onto her stuffed bear.

Then came another voice, a new one. Cheriss wished she had two more hands to cover her ears. Then Drane asked what it was. Cheriss closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see. Then she felt him shift as he pointed. No…

And then, before she knew it Drane was ripped away from her arms. Cheriss staggered back and nearly fell from the power of it, but the Thyrsian had taken the brunt of the impact. Forced yet again to confront reality or whatever this was, she turned to see a woman, her face covered by her hair. The Sith didn’t care that she was apparently able to use the Force and that one little motion on her part had sent Drane flying across the hall. All she felt was an intense hatred because once again, they were being interrupted.

Cheriss hadn’t noticed that her saber had slipped from her grip earlier, but it was still on the floor. She pulled it into her hand and her crimson blade came to life as soon as it did.

Though she was trained in the art of Makashi, this was anything but elegant. Cheriss simply grabbed her hilt with both hands and swung it down at the woman to cleave her in half.

@Die Shize

 

[Drane T'keen]

Getting up after being sent backwards, Drane watched as Cheriss swung at the woman, or whatever she was, whose hair clung to her face like a curtain.

The Thyrsian had been taken by surprise, as much as his mind had been taken by visions, but there was a power in the attack of that sorceress or witch.

Whatever she once was or still was, she no longer was. Cheriss’ blade cut her in half as intended. Perhaps the creature’s power had already been spent on Drane? Whatever the case, he did not want to wait and find out or delay in getting out.

“Nice.”

Now, moments ago, back in that kitchen, the clown within him might have mentioned that comment with sarcasm. At this moment, however, he genuinely meant it.

“She’s right though. Negotiations were met with violent ends.”

Whatever became of that joke, Drane didn’t wait to hear it from Cheriss. He had something else to compliment. So bloody hot in that shirt like a white dress with those legs.

And so he promptly slapped her on the ass and squeezed her cheek. That’s what Ktrame gets for standing there like that with a burning lightsaber and whatever burned within Drane and his blade.

“This way...before I decide to shove you against that wall and get us both killed when someone hears you moan.”

The corridor would end with a junction, hallways running either side, dark or dimly lit. There was a blinking white light at the end but Drane’s senses felt weakened. Was that a coincidence?

“Doors on either side. Wonder what’s inside?”

A scream came from behind one of them.

“Then again…”

@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

The woman didn’t fight back, instead falling in two halves as the Sith had intended. Cheriss frowned as she looked down at her work. She didn’t know how she felt. Seeing the faceless woman now, she looked frail, but both of them had felt what she’d been capable of before. Drane more than she did. If this is a nightmare… let it be over soon.

Lost in thought about what else could possibly be awaiting them and barely hearing what her companion was saying, she suddenly felt a harsh slap and a squeeze on her backside. Out of pure instinct, she whirled around and moved to cut whatever it was that had done it, only stopping her swing when she looked up and realized that it was Drane. Her blade was only inches from his bare chest, and she lowered it with a sigh.

“Kriff, Drane, I could have killed you!” She shook her head at his next comment before following him down the hall. They were back where she’d looked earlier, and it was still just as empty if not for the two doors at either end.

Except for the scream that came from behind. Cheriss glanced at Drane before turning around.

The corridor looked empty. At least it did at first glance. But when she blinked and looked again, she saw a pair of pale yellow eyes staring right back at her. Cheriss clutched her blade tighter.

“Violent delights… violent ends.” She whispered to herself as the creature moved closer.

@Die Shize

 

[Drane T'keen]

Violent ends…violent delights…

It didn’t make sense. Not the statement, not this environment, not his emotions, none of it.

Fear gripped him one moment, the kind he fed on from others, left behind in his past, a kind of fuel to his fire, never burning away but kept at the base of the flames.

Until that moment. Until this vision. Until the kitchen. When dread was what Drane was attempting to suppress, as terror burned, but lust burned brighter than bloodlust despite those yellow eyes; a bright red.

“Violent…”

Torn between two swords, Drane looked away from the stalker in the shadows, as if it didn’t exist, and toward Cheriss, one hand on his hilt, the other fingers just then pressed against her chest.

“…Delights.”

Before she knew what he was doing, he shoved Cheriss against the wall, pressed himself against her, and kissed her open lips.

@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

When Drane echoed her words, Cheriss had been expecting him to ready his saber like she did, holding onto the lightsaber hilt with both hands to prepare for a potential incoming attack. What she hadn’t expected was that the “attack” would come from him. Before she knew it she was pinned once more against the wall, both arms raised up at her sides as he kissed her again. Her eyes closed on instinct.

Not here, Drane, Cheriss wanted to say, but with his lips pressed onto hers, she couldn’t say a word. His hand warm against her chest, a soft moan escaped her throat. It almost felt like they were back in their kitchen. But then she remembered those yellow eyes— the eyes of a predator that was surely still closing in.

Breaking the kiss by turning her head to the side, Cheriss moved her free hand to push him away, but when she opened her eyes again she saw that the yellow ones were gone. All she could see were Drane’s of black and gold, molten with desire. And much as she wanted to lose herself in them, as much as she wanted to have him in this moment, to feel him against her and in her… this wasn’t the right time. She took in a sharp breath.

“Drane.” Firmly but gently pushing his shoulder away, she looked him in the eyes. “Not now.” Cheriss looked past him for a moment, searching for any sign of the mysterious yellow eyes again before her gaze went back to him. “What if they find us again?”

@Die Shize

 

[Drane T'keen]

She resisted. Pushed against him. Broke their kiss. For a moment, Drane just looked at Cheriss, and listened.

She had beautiful brown eyes, deceptively hazel, as hazelnut as chocolate, milk chocolate even. A man could get lost in them. No, a man had already gotten lost in them. In this hallway. In their kitchen. Back in that ship.

His own eyes, golden irises, let the galaxy call them whatever it wanted, they were open in that moment only for hers. He wanted to eat her eyes with his own. Her eyes were like almonds.

Cheriss was so gorgeous. What idiot had ever called this woman, or the kid within, a bitch? What idiot had meant it? He didn’t. He hadn’t.

As far as Drane was concerned, this woman was his, that was their kitchen, which made this building and everything in it theirs.

“You’re so beautiful, Cheriss.”

He stepped forward again, fingers trailing a path up her neck, curving over her chin, thumb dipping into her lower lip.

“You make humanity the envy of every species.”

He might have been distant, like their kitchen, like this environment, but there was no doubting those plump lips, that button nose. Those arched brows, the cute bun when her hair was done up, but it was still loose this moment, as lazy as that buttoned-up shirt that once covered his now bare chest.

Inside, he knew her to be enticingly tight. Warm. Wet. All too inviting. Soft as her skin on the outside but softer. He wanted to be inside her that moment. To devour her, golden eyes into brown, no yellow, for maybe those were the eyes of a Sith in the shadows.

Maybe, though, they were not two Sith this moment, for they no longer had a kitchen, it was broken. Maybe they were just a man and a woman.

"If they find us again..."

Drane slid his thumb from her lip to her breast, to her hip, to the hem of the shirt that was his, pinched the fabric, and began to lift it up, and would not stop unless Cheriss stopped him.

“Then let them watch,” he promised, stealing her lips with his, as his lightsaber burned as bright as the fire within.

@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

Cheriss liked to think that flattery didn’t work on her. In the past it never had, because she’d always known that they never meant it. They’d always wanted something back. But when Drane did it and his eyes bored into hers like that, as if she were the only one here in this hallway, this building, and this planet… she almost believed him.

Maybe it was something in this place that was affecting her. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew she wasn’t thinking clearly. She knew this wasn’t her, yet despite that she didn’t want to be herself right now. Drane’s touch felt familiar, and as his hand left her head and neck, going down her chest and then finally to her hip, she decided that he was right.

If they decided to come back, they could watch and see just what they were missing out on.

Drane’s fingers pinching the bottom of the shirt wouldn’t make it very far up before Cheriss decided to help him. Her hand moved to undo the few buttons she’d put in earlier and she shrugged out of his shirt easily enough, letting it flutter onto the floor behind her.

As he kissed her, she grabbed a tuft of his mane and drew him in closer. With their lips still locked, Cheriss wrenched him to her left, only stopping when she heard the thump of his back hitting the wall. Then she broke away to breathe, her eyes just as bright as his as her hand slid from the top of his head to his cheek. Just as he had, her thumb brushed over his lower lip. She could still taste him. So dark, so sweet, and so irresistible, like a chocolate dipped strawberry.

“God, Drane,” she whispered. She couldn’t stay away. She was as desperate as a wanderer in the desert was for water, except the difference was that she had just found an oasis.

“I said…” Cheriss leaned in and kissed his cheek. “...you were a bastard…” Then his chin. “...but it’s just…” His neck. “...not true.” His scent was driving her mad. “C’mere.” She switched off her blade and dropped the hilt, letting it roll to who knows where before she grabbed both of his cheeks with her hands and kissed him again.

@Die Shize

 

[Drane T'keen]

Violent. Delights. Both words applied. Two Sith fought with words, with fists, with the Force. He was forceful with her. The way Drane shoved Cheriss against the wall, pushed himself onto her, ready to thrust himself into her any moment, kissing her, touching her, asking for neither permission nor forgiveness, because she was already his.

Yet she was no less rough with him. He didn’t gasp, didn’t say anything back, just let her turn him so that his back was against the wall, and he was the one being pinned.

Good. Cheriss felt it too. The same need. The same desire. The same fire burned inside her. Only growing higher. A hunger yearning to be satisfied. Only there were no words for this. The only way to feed it was through instinct, not thought but action, not emotion but passion.

Then again, that was probably nonsense. It was everything. It wasn’t anything. It was the body of a woman, her eyes, her lips, her breathy words she whispered, the smoothness of her fingers as they tugged his hair and held his cheeks and deactivated her blade.

Drane did the same. As Cheriss kissed him, showed him who and what she wanted as much as he did, he returned his saber into its hilt, replaced with something else, another instrument that grew against Cheriss as both their fallen lightsabers crashed into one another, rolling across the floor to who the bloody hell knew where.

Drane didn’t care. Only about her. He only had emotion and attention for her. Every element of his being was beating. Every fiber pumping. Bastard, she called him, but if Cheriss was no bitch at least she hadn’t made the same mistake as he did. She was not wrong.

Oh, Drane, you are a bastard.

He would prove it. As Cheriss shifted her grip to his hips, ripped his pants away from him, Drane slid his hands in the same direction, only he grabbed the backs of her thighs and lifted her so she could wrap her legs around him yet again.

He wouldn’t wait. Drane pushed off from the wall and hurried to the opposite side, shoving Cheriss against it yet again. He bounced her up a moment, slid her bare back against cold metal, getting a firmer grip on her thighs, fingers nearing her backside.

A daring thumb grazed over onto her rump as Drane’s blood rushed and screamed for his body to penetrate, take and break, make her squirm and squeal, feel every inch of her outside and inside.

“Ch-Cheriss!”

Unable to finish, he kissed her lips, her cheek, her neck, shifted his lips to her chest, let his tongue talk to her in ways that words could never say.

Are you ready, baby? Ready to show this infernal pit who its masters are?

Not like Drane would wait on an answer anyway, though he had been wrong about not thinking. He just let Cheriss hear his thoughts as he breathed into her skin in the light and in the dark.

I’m going to pound you into this wall until it falls down.

Curious. If amusing. How this building thought these two Sith, this man and this woman, were its prisoners within it.

Maybe that’s what the owner was thinking. Watching them. Listening. Getting a demonstration of complete and utter defiance. Maybe. Then again, maybe the owner planned for this, but Drane wouldn’t know, too focused on Cheriss, oblivious to the noises of lightsabers rolling across the floor, forward, toward darkness, away from Drane and Cheriss.

@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

Cheriss barely heard the hiss of Drane’s lightsaber as the blade disappeared into its hilt, nor the crash as it fell to the floor. Only the sound of his breathing mattered. Heavy, like hers, as she pressed her hips against his, yearning, burning for what she could feel beneath his surface.

Those yellow eyes, those zombies, and that puppet were all but memories long gone, and the only thing Cheriss cared about was the man in front of her.

Her hands went down to his hips, gripping his pants before shoving them down. She had just gotten to her own when she felt hands grip her thighs, and soon she was in the air and being shoved backwards across the hall. A gasp escaped her lips as her back crashed against the metal wall, her arms and legs tightening around Drane.

Her head was pounding, from the impact against the wall or from maddening lust she didn’t know. Dazed, Cheriss buried her face into Drane’s hair, trying to catch her breath but unable to as she heard him mutter her name. One of her hands gripped the back of his neck, holding on to him for dear life, while the other ran down the hardness of his arm as he kissed her here, there, and everywhere. His lips and tongue warmed her like the sun did on a winter day. The Son of the Red Sun, her one and own, her sun and stars.

She felt him on her body, heard him in her mind. She could only nod at his question, whether or not he saw it. Still in the air thanks to Drane, Cheriss’ fingers tugged on his ears as if pulling him back up. How lonely it was up here. As he continued to tease her, she tilted her head down to kiss his again. His curls were so soft, so smooth, and she would stay in them for a lifetime if she could. Then he spoke to her again, promised her something she couldn’t refuse.

She traced three fingers behind his ear, down to his chin, and tilted it up so that gold eyes could meet brown. Cheriss’ mouth didn’t move, but Drane would be able to hear her voice loud and clear in his mind. Then may it never fall.

@Die Shize