Title:Paid in Full
Author: Angel
E-mail: [email protected]
URL: http://www.geocities.com/lady_aethelynde
Rating: R for nudity
Summary: Contre la Montre's 60 minute "prostitute"
challenge
Type: AU
Archive: Sure
Disclaimer: Not mine, George's You know this.
Warnings: Slash, The premise is SLASH, read that
again, SLASH. What I tell you three times is true.
Feedback: It makes the plotbunnies breed.
*****
Paid in Full
2004 Angel
*****
“Here?” Han boggled at the news the others passed along in the bath.
“Why would a Jedi master come here?”
“Every man has his needs. Even one who could kill Vader and the
Emperor.”
Pauk elbowed him aside to reach for some eye-paint.
“From what I’ve seen, I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on his light
saber.”
S’Buh made a vulgar hand gesture that resembled the Jedi saber salute
position.
“Go pull the ears off your own gundark, kiddo. He’s not going to want
you boys.”
Han’s comment stirred laughter from the workers as they busily fixed
their
hair, and some of the younger ones painted their faces. Just another
night’s work.
The Jedi wasn’t what Han expected at all. He was very short and very
young. He
hadn’t seen the backside of thirty yet, while Han was very aware of his
own
rapidly-approaching forty. His eyes were piercingly blue as they caught
Han’s
across the room. The holonews had never made him look so beautiful. He
spoke to the proprietor, and soon enough, Han found himself back in his
room,
a breathing fantasy sitting on his one chair.
“No, no, don’t undress. I’m paying for your time and information, not
your body.”
Soon Han was telling the lovely stranger everything he knew: economic
conditions
of his world, who was in power, who was falling from grace, and his
life story
into the bargain. There wasn’t much to tell: a dumped shipment, and
Jabba the
Hutt never listened to excuses. He was in the last months of an
eight-year
indenture, and his contract was not for sale. More than one old friend
had
tried to buy him out of it so he could co-pilot. If he escaped, Jabba
would
kill his best friend, scrap his ship and have him tortured to death in
some
gruesome public spectacle.
The Jedi rose to leave. Han caught him at the door. “Just so you can
say you got
your money’s worth,” he said, tipping the man’s face up and bending in
to
taste the full lips.
Luke clung to the indentured whore’s mouth, tasting the kiss, the rich
sensuality
of the handsome man. Not even eight years in a place like this could
mask
the sincerity of the man’s kiss. Or maybe he was just very good at
faking it.
Luke broke away and left his hire in the room. He left the brothel and
flagged
a robohack to take him back to his hotel, without even questioning the
other
workers.
He paced the luxurious room, his mind uneasy. It had become his
standard
procedure on a new world and he thought he was used to this by now. He
landed, checked in with the authorities and spent the first night in a
brothel, getting the lay of the land, so to speak. Men talk in bed, and
there was an old Coruscant saying: “The whores in the Pleasure Quarter
know the news before the whores in the senate.” The scuttlebutt had
served
him well on many occasions.
There were always those who wanted to give him more for his money than
just
words. He’d been kissed and more by willing men, by lovely women and by
species
that were not even remotely sexually compatible with humans. But this
one, so
tall and strong, had left Luke disturbed. He was disconcerted by his
reaction,
and the rush of attraction.
He wondered what would become of the man after his indenture was up.
Would he be
tossed out, penniless, or did he have money put by? Was there someone
waiting for him?
Luke shook his head and prepared for sleep. A crooked grin and hazel
eyes haunted his dreams.
It was back to usual the next day. For the next weeks, Han followed the
planetary news with new interest, tracing the exploits of the Jedi as
he set
things in order, toured the provinces and generally made a nuisance of
himself to the government.
He counted down the days now, until his debt was paid. There would be
nothing for
him once it was, but he suspected he could get old Baril, the owner, to
keep
him on for a while so he could make enough to get off world.
He didn’t think about what would happen after that.
Han prepared himself with extra care for his last night in Jabba’s
service.
He’d paid back that damn spice a hundred times by now, and was glad to
be
quits. After this, he was going legit. No more spice. No more water to
Rampa. No more gun-running, smuggling or trouble of any kind. He just
wanted a
little starbuggy, and a nice steady cake job, a delivery route like
Sonnoid, or collections or something. He’d made good on his debt.
He was busy planning the next day and almost missed Baril’s whistle.
“You! Solo! Client!”
The little Jedi again. This time, he sat on the edge of the bed instead
of
the chair. Han leaned nonchalantly in the door. He could do a lot worse
for
a last client.
“So, top or bottom?” Han asked, dropping the trousers he wore.
“What would you like?” Luke did his best not to ogle.
“My lord, you’re paying for it, and from the way you’re looking at me,
I’m
guessing we’re not just chatting tonight.”
Luke regained his dignity. “No, we aren’t. I have a surprise for you.
Several in fact.”
Han tensed. That was never good.
“I have your contract. I bought it for double the remaining value.
You’re a free man.”
“You took a big chance on me, sir. What if I don’t really like boys?”
“My name is Luke Skywalker. Please just call me Luke. No titles.”
He could tell each
one was costing the man, Han Solo he reminded himself, a piece of his
pride. “Now, you have a choice. We can spend the night here, or we can
go back to my
hotel. I’d like you to come off-world with me tomorrow. I can use a
good pilot, and
a big bodyguard.”
“Your hotel got a bigger bed than this?”
“Much. I’ve got the Emperor Suite at the Vacilanta.”
Han pulled up his pants, threw his few possessions in a carrybag and
was ready
to go before Luke could ask twice.
They left, and Han never looked back. A odd feeling had started in his
stomach
and worked its way down to his feet and up to his head. They both felt
light,
like he’d been sniffing dancegas. He realized what it was: freedom.
He’d gotten
so used to living in Baril’s cage, he wondered how much of his old self
was left.
Luke glanced at his companion, noting the sheer joy that was spreading
over his
face. He’d researched Han very thoroughly. He’d dawdled over his
official
Republic duties just for this. He would have the pirate tonight, and
the morrow
would bring more surprises.
“Here we are.” Luke used a passkey on the elevator to go to the Emperor
Suite.
Han was studying the diminutive Jedi, and that feeling of freedom was
giving
way to pure desire. He’d seen the man on the holos and wondered about
him many
times. More than once, he’d stroked himself off after a particularly
rough night
with Luke’s face in his mind.
In the suite, Luke threw aside his cloak, and Han set the carrybag
down. In two
steps he was across the room and kissing Luke.
“I’ve wanted you for a long time. I never thought I’d have a chance at
you,” he
said against the skin of Luke’s face and neck. His hands were busily
stripping
away the black clothes.
“Wait.” Luke pushed him away. “I want you only if you want to be in my
bed. No
gratitude, no obligation, no strings. Just us and what the night
brings.”
Han was on him again. “You, kid. You’re beautiful, and I’ve wanted you
since I
first saw your face on a wanted poster seven years ago.”
Morning brought unwelcome light on the men. They slept tangled
together, sated.
A whistle from the comlink woke Luke. He got up and that woke Han, who
automatically reached for a robe. There wasn’t one handy. He woke more
fully
and watched Luke pace as he talked into the link. It wasn’t an agitated
pacing,
just the aimless sort most folks did on the com. The kid was hung, and
it made
for an interesting view. Luke noticed and winked at Han. Han watched as
the
view became even more interesting. Luke was fully erect when he signed
off and
smiled at Han.
“That was my pilot. He’s getting impatient to be off. I told him I
wanted to clean
up and have breakfast. We’ll lift at 1030 local time.”
“That’s three hours away, kid.”
“I know.” The wicked smile promised a busy three hours.
Fed, clean and wearing new clothes, Han did his best to walk normally.
He was
screwed silly, and he felt it every time he took a step. Luke opened
the door of
the docking bay and he couldn’t walk any more.
A two meter bundle of russet fur charged out of the bay, seized Han and
hugged
him until his ribs creaked, all the while howling in his own language.
“Chewie? Chewie! Put me down!”
His oldest friend obliged, but still held him. Han was looking
suspiciously wet
around the eyes, so Luke gave his attention to the ship. It was ready
to go.
“The rebel Alliance? How’d you get mixed up with idealists?” Chewbacca
explained
in brief as he slowly turned Han to see his ship.
Luke patted the landing strut. “Your lady has saved my life a dozen
times over.
And Chewbacca has told me and shown me so much. How could I not let him
be here
on the day you got out?”
Chewbacca sniffed Han over and growled.
“No, Chewie, I took advantage of him if anything. In case you hadn’t
noticed,
he’s gorgeous.” That earned Han a light cuff and a warning growl. “All
right, all
right, I’ll be careful of him.”
“Shall we?” Luke gestured up the ramp. Chewbacca went forward to lift,
but Luke
caught Han before he could follow. “What was that?”
“Chewie told me I’d better not break your heart.”
“It’s not that fragile,” Luke smiled. “And I trusted it to you the day
I first
saw your holo. Welcome back, Captain. Set course for Coruscant. I need
to
introduce you to my sister.”
“Oh stars! There’s two of them!” Han dropped into the pilot’s chair and
ran his
hands lovingly over the much missed controls.
*You don’t know the half of it, little one,* Chewbacca told him.
*Welcome home.*