Work Text:
Even when an utter mess, Kassandra was gorgeous. While the day was hot and humid with the threat of rain, you had spent it working in tandem, completing various chores around the little piece of land you had come to call home.
As the sun began to set, Kassandra sent you inside with a little swat to your ass and a teasing request to get dinner ready while she attended to Phobos. Once the bread, cheese, and dried fruits had been laid on the table along with a jug of wine, you poked your head out the door to call Kassandra in. Leaning against the doorframe, the words got stuck in your throat as you watched her work.
She had foregone most layers due to the heat, instead wearing only a thin, white peplos that was tinged grey and brown from wear and age. Her deep brown hair was wound into its customary braid and hung over her shoulder.
Sweat shone on her arms as she shoveled old straw out of the stall and into a tub to be emptied later. It plastered loose strands of hair to her forehead, dripped off the tip of her nose. It had soaked into her peplos, turning patches of the worn material almost translucent, just enough to tease you with the skin that lay beneath.
Once satisfied with how the new straw was spread, Kassandra leaned the shovel against the fence and rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead with a satisfied smile. She wiped her hands over her chest, the pressure on the thin material opening the fibers to soak up even more of her sweat.
You felt your mouth go dry and your knees go weak the longer you stared. Her peplos was now clinging indecently to her chest, revealing the peaked dark circles of her nipples.
Kassandra flicked her eyes up to you just in time to see you lick your lips. She laughed at how your eyes immediately widened when you realized you had been caught. A red flush rose up to your cheeks, matching the burnt skin on the back of your neck.
Kassandra walked slowly from Phobos’ shed to your little home, a cocky swagger that she knew always got you going. She leaned over you, bracing her forearm on the doorframe above your head. “See something you like?” she teased. The smell of musk and dirt and sweat and horse got stuck in your nose, and a shiver went down your spine.
When Kassandra realized words had failed you, she chuckled again and brought her hands to your waist. With a sharp tug to press your hips together, she purred, “I could use some help getting cleaned up before dinner.”