It took Ahsoka a moment or two to realize who was kissing her. It took even a few seconds longer, for her to process where she was, or what was going on.
She didn't remember how she got there, but she was sitting at a table in an unfamiliar room. Her legs were spread open, straddling the bench beneath her and Kix was kissing her. He had her jaw cupped in both of his large, rough hands, and Ahsoka struggled to cope with the intensity of his tongue. The clone medic was quite thorough in his exploration of her mouth; she tentatively kissed him back and tasted alcohol on his warm lips.
The newly-minted Jedi Knight tried to lift her hands, but was startled to realize that a firm grip held her elbows against her side. Ahsoka suddenly realized that it wasn't just her and Kix at the table - her back was pressed tightly against a broad, warm, muscular chest. A pair of hands held her arms against the body behind her and kept her from reacting to anything Kix was doing.
The restraint oddly excited her.
Confused - but not alarmed - Ahsoka continued to kiss Kix, while searching for the identity of the man behind her. She didn't need to break the kiss, or turn her head, or look at his face. She merely shifted her attention and considered his signature imprint in the Force; Ahsoka immediately recognized him.
Hardcase.
She moaned into Kix's mouth, as she became acutely aware of Hardcase's breath brushing against her neck. The medic slowly took her bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled back from their kiss. He nibbled her teasingly, before lifting his head and meeting her half-lowered gaze.
Kix grinned and Hardcase nuzzled the soft spot between her neck and collarbone; his day's worth of stubble rubbed roughly against her skin and Ahsoka practically tingled from the sensation.
"What are we doing?"Γ the young Jedi managed to find her voice, but it didn't sound particularly authoritative, not even to her hearing.
Her voice sounded properly breathless and she realized with a bright flush of heat, that Kix had her unmistakably aroused. Or, rather, Kix and Hardcase, since she was finding it hard to concentrate with another man's body pressed firmly against her, holding her down against the mercy of his brother's whims.
"Shhhh," Kix reached up and touched her lips with a gloved finger.
"We're celebrating," Hardcase mumbled into her shoulder; his voice hummed through his chest and warmed Ahsoka's back.
"Celebrating?" Ahsoka blinked and tried to focus.
It was hard to do, though, with Kix's other hand absently fingering the curve of her belt along her hip. She licked her lips and tasted alcohol there as well - she suddenly wasn't certain if the taste was from Kix's tongue or her own.
"You promotion, remember?" Kix turned his head slightly and reached for a clear duraplast cup that had been sitting, forgotten, on the table.
He saluted her with the cup; Ahsoka's sharp sense of smell caught a whiff of fermented apple. She raised an eyebrow as Kix threw the remaining shot back with casual ease. Her eyes followed the medic's hand as he put the cup back on the table and she counted two more cups sitting within easy arm's reach. Both were empty; one lay on its side, knocked over by some forgotten accident.
She licked her lips again. This time, she tasted apple on her lips and Ahsoka realized, a little ruefully, that she'd been drinking as well.
That explained, at least, the pleasant sensation of calm she felt in her head and the unusual warmth of her skin. She'd never drank before, but she'd heard stories before of what happened when a Togruta imbibed. Alcohol made her species physically hypersensitive; as a result, they didn't generally tend to drink with others outside of their closest relations.
She could understand why. Just the touch of Hardcase's steady breath against her skin was whittling her self-control into absolutely nothing. It was a dangerously heady feeling and Ahsoka knew they were breaking about a dozen rules already, and flirting heavily with the potentiality of breaking several dozen more.
She also didn't care.
"Sorry 'bout the alcohol, by the way, General," Hardcase mumbled against her right lekku and Ahsoka squeezed her eyes shut in a random wave of pleasure. "It was s'posed to be Endrolian ground-apple juice, but I think Kix managed to find the one jug that's been in storage too long."
It took Ahsoka a few seconds to process what Hardcase was saying - she was completely distracted by the vibrations of his voice against her sensitive lekku - but, she managed to piece his meaning together. Endrolian ground-apple juice was a favorite of hers, so it made sense that Kix would liberate a jug from galley storage on her behalf. Unfortunately, Endrolian ground-apple juice would ferment into a hard liquor, if left to itself for too long.
Her mind swam and she absently considered Hardcase's choice of title.
"General?" Ahsoka wondered, momentarily confused.
Kix chuckled - the sound was dark and throaty. It did funny things to her stomach. His hands slowly traveled the length of her side, just underneath her arms, which were still held in Hardcase's unforgiving grasp.