by Angela Jade
Rated - NC-17
Email - [email protected] - constructive criticism and happy thoughts greatly appreciated. Flames laughed at.
Summary - Luke/Han, post-RotJ vignette
Archive - Elusive Lover (if they want it), Sithchicks, SWAL (anyone else, please ask)
Disclaimer - it all belongs to Lucas. I am not making any money from this.
Thanks - to Sheyla, the Wonderbeta! And to the EL crowd, for writing inspirational fanfic and providing proof (!) that Han and Luke were meant to be together.
March 2003
A crowded cantina, one of millions scattered throughout the galaxy, each one different and somehow the same. Drinking and yet not drunk, eyes scanning the nefarious crowd, searching for something... someone. Suddenly, he’s there; intense blue eyes, mussed hair, and a fuck-me smile.
Happy to oblige.
A back room, empty but for a stack of crates and the chair he’s bent over. Plunging into him... hot... tight... fuck, it’s good. Again. And again. And...
“Ow!”
The stone floor was covered only by a thin rug, not nearly enough to cushion Han’s fall or stop his bodyheat from instantly dissipating. He rubbed his bruised hip as he sat up, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. “What the hell...?”
The bed wasn’t the highest he’d ever slept in; nor was it the widest. And right now it was full of... “Luke!”
The blonde Jedi mumbled and wriggled in his sleep, the foot that had propelled Han from his dream dangling further over the side of the bed. Luke sighed, a beatific smile settling on his face.
Han stood slowly and glared at his spread-eagled lover. Until fairly recently, he’d thought he’d known the man; as a friend, a confidante, and as the brother of his now ex-girlfriend. But now that they’d taken that final step and become ‘an item,’ Han realised there were many more things to discover. Luke Skywalker was possibly the best kisser Han had ever encountered. He loved sunsets and hugs and waterfalls, preferably all at the same time. And he hogged the bed like a Hutt in a family mud bath.
Luke twisted his head towards the window and stretched one arm languorously over a pillow. The first dim light of dawn was barely beginning to win its battle against the pitch black of night, and Han could just about make out the beautiful face that had enthralled him on and off for years. One side of Han’s mouth quirked up. “Kid, if it was anyone but you...”
His only reply was a soft snore.
Crossing his arms, Han surveyed the contours of the sheet that covered the bed and the man it contained, looking for a flat area big enough to take his body. Eventually he concluded there were none, unless he could manage to doze off curled up in a fetal ball in the bottom right hand corner of the bed. For a brief moment Han considered shoving his lover over to one side; he quickly squashed that idea. Luke would never deliberately hurt him, but while unconscious... There were many unpublicized dangers to sleeping with a Jedi, Han decided. No wonder the Jedi of old had been against forming permanent attachments.
Well, the floor was too hard and cold to sleep on, so he reckoned he’d better figure out what he was going to do pretty quickly... His attention was suddenly caught by a prominent bulge in the bedcover he hadn’t noticed before. He grinned as an idea sprang into his head. There were many ways to catch a dinko and more than one way to move a sleeping Jedi.
The sheet slid smoothly over Han’s back as he slipped under it, zeroing in on his goal...
*****
A dogfight, fast and brutal and strangely exhilarating; red and green laser blasts criss-crossing the blackness of space, splashing against shields, and turning starfighters into briefly expanding balls of flame.
The Millennium Falcon in trouble... bank, accelerate, fire...
...no more trouble.
Landing, powering down, smiling as the canopy hisses open. He’s there at the bottom of the ladder, grinning, back-slapping... he wants to say thank you.
A storage closet... spare parts and chemicals and a half-dismantled maintenance droid. Han Solo on his knees, tasting, sucking, swallowing... Oh, yes. Yes...yes...yes...yes...
“Yessssss...”
Nice dream, thought Luke. Powerful, erotic, and heart-stoppingly authentic... Reality finally broke through the fog that clouded his sleep-addled mind; he was horizontal, in his own bed, and someone was... oh. Han. He grinned and clutched at the bedding as he felt the warmth of orgasm approaching; muscles tensing, heart pounding, lungs pulling in oxygen... Ecstasy quickly overtook him, sending a river of heat up his spine to melt his brain.
He finally managed to pry his eyelids open and found a tousled Han grinning down at him. Luke smiled back lazily. “What time is it?”
“Dunno. Middle of the night.” Han leaned down to kiss him, his mouth sealing over Luke’s, his tongue providing a welcome invasion.
“Are you always this insatiable?” gasped Luke, when Han eventually paused in his oral assault. “Some of us need to sleep occasionally.”
Han’s eyebrows drew together in a frown and there was a long moment of silence; Luke wondered if he’d breached some weird Corellian etiquette. “What?”
“I am awake,” growled Han, “Because someone kicked me out of bed.”
“Are you implying that I would... I don’t think so, Han.”
Han didn’t reply, he merely subjected Luke to a glare that would warp durasteel.
“Are you sure?” asked Luke, his confidence waning under Han’s determination.
“And I was having a really good dream, too.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Luke reached up and kissed the sulky mouth above him. “I wish there was something I could do.”
“There is.” Han’s lips swept softly along Luke’s jawline, sending tingles of pleasure from his head to the tips of his toes.
Luke held his breath when Han paused at his ear.
“Turn over.”
~FIN~