[ BEG ] ; the sender begs the receiver to touch them.
This was a new brand of torture Kotallo was wholly unprepared for. He found himself pushed back against a wall in Memorial Grove after having just returned from his duties at Hekarro's side for the day. Alarmed, he captured Aloy's left wrist in his hand as she attempted to wrap both arms around his neck. The glazed cast to her eyes was unnerving enough that he looked over her flushed cheeks and easy smile with a frown.
Immediately, Kotallo glanced over Aloy's shoulder to where Drakka, Ivirra, and others had gathered around to drink one of Desert Clan's famous brews. The scent of redthorn peppers and sourfruit was stark enough in the air around their fire that he realized what had happened.
"What did you do to her?" he demanded with a gruff growl at Drakka while Aloy tried to fumble at the clips of his armor.
With patience he didn't feel, Kotallo softened his voice as he lowered his gaze to the Nora huntress. "Aloy, stop. It's the drink."
"We're just having a night off! Join us, Marshal! It'll be good for you! I envy your position right now," the new Desert Clan Commander said with a bright laugh. "It's not everyone who can get the Champion fighting to rip their clothes off."
"You should have warned her," Kotallo snapped back with irritation.
"Relax, Marshal. She's an adult. I've no power to stop her curiosity."
"You didn't have to encourage it," he grumbled as Aloy finally did manage to free the first fastening of his chest plate. Kotallo cursed the lack of his other hand when he couldn't keep her from pressing her lips against the leaping pulse at his throat. By the Ten, she was going to kill him, and she didn't even need a weapon to do it.
"Aloy," he said again on a frustrated sigh, trying to find a balance between discouraging her behavior without hurting her feelings. Sourfruit had a way of...overriding one's emotions and inhibitions even without the aid of fermentation. "You don't want to do this," he said softly.
"Why won't you touch me, Kotallo?" She pressed another open-mouthed kiss to his throat and the Marshal let his head fall back against the wall as he groaned. Killing him. By the Ten, she was killing him right here. "Don't you like me? Is it because I'm not Tenakth?" Despite the way her hands now spread across his bared abdomen with want, the innocence in her question was enough to bring some semblance of logic to his poorly functioning brain.
The laughter of those around the fire nearby reminded Kotallo of just where they were. His eyes met Drakka's smug, smirking gaze over Aloy's shoulder. Kotallo's promised violence. Later.
Dipping his gaze back down to Aloy, he worked to reassure her with quiet, soft words. "Aloy, you're drunk. It doesn't matter that you're not Tenakth. I like you as you are. But you're asking for things you don't mean."
"How do you know?" she asked with a pout. Kotallo could see that stubborn set of her shoulders despite the way she draped her arms successfully around his neck this time.
"Because I know you wouldn't want an audience if you really meant what you were asking."
Aloy looked up at him from beneath her lashes as she smiled sweetly. "We can go somewhere else," she suggested, one of those sneaky hands of hers dipping down for her to hook a finger in the front of his armored skirt. Quickly, his hand whipped down to recapture her wrist to prevent her from discovering exactly what he thought of her. He pulled her wicked hand away from his groin and encouraged it behind his neck instead since it was undoubtedly a safer place for her to hold onto him.
In a singsong voice, Drakka piped up at the fire. "Have fuuuun, Marshal. You can thank me later!"
And even as Aloy was killing him, Kotallo vowed to end the smirking shit in the arena tomorrow. Or at least take him down a few pegs. Hekarro was unlikely to allow him to kill Desert Clan's Commander even if he deserved it.
Managing a deep breath to gather every ounce of his restraint, Kotallo finally dipped his head to press a soft kiss on Aloy's forehead. "We'll find you a cot to sleep this off," he muttered.
He staggered in shock when Aloy leaped up to cling to him, even wrapping her legs around his waist. It wasn't her weight so much as the unexpected action that had him fighting for his footing. This was most assuredly not helping his erection. Using his arm to hook under her, Kotallo hiked her higher to ensure she didn't discover it pressing against her backside as he carried her from the fire. The sound of Drakka's taunting laughter followed them.
Not trusting the troops to not take advantage of an inebriated Aloy, Kotallo carried her straight to his own quarters and settled her down on his bed. It was a mistake, he realized, for the moment he saw her sitting there and waiting expectantly for him, desire swamped him. But he was not a randy recruit to give in to baser wants.
When he stepped away, Aloy made a sound of disappointment. "Where are you going?"
By the Ten, were those tears? His throat clogged with panic when she indeed started to sniffle. "You don't want me?" she asked, her voice broken.
Unable to resist the urge to comfort her, he stepped close again and dropped down to his knees in front of her. His hand reached up to cup her cheek while his thumb swiped at her tears tenderly. "Not like this, love," he said softly.
"Why?" she asked, her hands moving to grip desperately at his wrist. She held his hand close to her like a lifeline.
"You're drunk, Aloy. I can't take advantage of this."
"But what if I wasn't? Would you want me then?" she asked as more tears fell.
She undid him. In such simple ways, she could unravel any amount of control he had. Hadn't he vowed not to make his feelings a burden for her? Aloy already carried the world. She carried the expectations of entire tribes along with the unwanted feelings of far too many. He didn't want to add to that burden. But here, in a moment of weakness when she wasn't likely to remember, he found his tongue loosened.
"I always want you, Aloy." The admission was quiet and private, but the words seemed to bounce around the confines of his quarters. Already, he wished he could recapture them and swallow them back until they never left his lips.
But then, there she was smiling with such sweetness that he found himself feeling too greedy. He ached to kiss her. To taste the lingering alcohol in her mouth and share in some of that reckless abandon it had granted her. Instead, he reached forward to plant a chaste kiss on her cheek followed by another on the end of her nose.
"Sleep, Aloy. You'll feel better in the morning."
Before he could move away, she tightened her hold on his wrist. "Can you stay? You don't have to touch me. Just stay."
Logic argued it was a bad idea even as the rest of him reasoned something as platonic as sharing the same space in sleep was harmless. Staying won, only because Kotallo found he'd lost the will to resist any more of her pleas.
"Scooch over, then," he murmured, smiling when she beamed at him and immediately made room for him on his bed.
Despite his intention not to touch her, he woke the next morning with his arm wrapped snugly around her and her face pillowed on his chest. Kotallo closed his eyes again and willed the moment to last forever.
