Actions

Work Header

Quietude

Work Text:

They were surprisingly comfortable that night – even with Han’s knees making an indentation in Leia’s back. She tossed against him, somehow getting her head on his chest. “That does it. When we get back home, we’re expanding this tin can’s bunk space,”

Han eyed her lazily. “Sweetheart, we may have something good starting here, but keep it straight – any changes to the Falcon will be my idea.”

She sat up, banging her head on the top bunk (and, she hoped, not waking her brother). “All right. I don’t have to visit the captain’s quarters every time we fly it.”

He smirked lazily. “Since you put it that way, sweetheart, I’ll consider it. Chewie’s always wanted his own private digs.”

The wookie, lying in the bunk over theirs with Luke, let out a roar and rolled over, scratching his chin.

Leia turned toward Han, resting her head on his chest. “It’s a new galaxy out there, Captain Solo,” she declared. “We just need to decide what we’re going to do.”

“I know exactly how I want to spend it.” He bent down and drew her into a long, deep kiss. She languidly wrapped an arm around Han’s neck, going with the kiss, allowing him to trace her eager lips with his tongue, her soft breasts with his hand.

Leia pried her lips away from his, glanced at the bunks. Threepio and Artoo were somewhere at the head of the ship. With everyone mentally accounted for, Leia smirked and threw an arm around Han’s neck.

“You have two milliseconds, Flyboy,” Leia said, getting a forearm underneath her head.

“I don’t even need a half-a millisecond,” he said, leaning over her.

“Wrong choice of words,” she replied, kissing his lips, running a hand through his hair. They didn’t need to say the ‘l’ word before they continued; it was love, and they both understood it.

Somehow, she pulled his shirt up and off; her dress followed, which was surprisingly complex considering the size of the buttons the Ewoks had sewn into it. His warm hand ran up her bare back scaring a moan from her throat. He sighed as she parted his shirt and met with bare skin.

“You’re so warm,” she remarked, feeling his heart beat against her open palm.

“So’re you. Like a jet flame. Not bad for an ice queen.”

She elbowed his side. “Want to find out how icy I am?”

His smirk was a slow-dawning one as she led his hand over the rise of her breast, down her flat, smooth belly, and between her legs. “Or how hot.”

“You’re going to contradict me for the rest of your life, aren’t you?”

He kissed her lips. “Until I’m an old scruffy Nerf hearder,” he responded.

Her hand lay open, fingers spread, and pressed against his stomach while he took open liberties with her sex and lips. His mouth slid down her neck and into the crook, inhaling her scent, groaning quietly. “Oh,” she sighed, reaching instinctively for her belt buckle.

Han’s hips arched away from her hand. “No way, princess. Until we square some things away, these stay on.”

She glared up at him. “I didn’t think you were the noble type.”

A pained grin. “I’m not. But I’m not going to do this with you for the first time on a bunk bed two inches from your brother.”

“NOW you’re a romantic?” she sniffed.

“Think, Princess.”

She moaned. “I don’t want to,” she admitted. “I just want to feel you.”

He kissed her lips and pulled the blankets up. His fingers silently caressed her labia, and then teased within to gather her moisture. “How quiet can you be?”

“I’ll bite my lip,” she vowed.

He kissed her neck. “Princess, you’d better be telling me the truth.”

“Let me touch you while you….” He took her hand and placed it on his cock, then aimed it for the neutral territory of her stomach. She rubbed his cock with surprising expertise while he fingered her clit.

“Not bad for an ice queen,” Han muttered.

Leia’s smile was nothing but a low-key grin. “Courting practices aren’t formal on Alderaan,” she replied.

He kissed her forehead. “Mind if I try something even less conventional?” She nodded. “Hold your bubs.”

It took her a minute to realize he wanted her to hold her breasts. Pressing them together, she allowed Han to slip his cock between them. He thrust back and forth, using the silken skin of her breasts to stimulate his shaft. While Leia assisted him this way, he braced himself against the back of the bunk.

It was an odd sensation but, she supposed, the best way to please him. He took two more thrusts and moaned into his fist, spilling his pearly release over her chest.

She played with the lines of silken cream he’d left behind She knew enough about human reproduction to know what it was – and to know why he’d resisted his instincts. “Feels like silken floss,” she declared, rubbing it into her skin. She’d smell of him until she rose for her morning shower, and found she didn’t mind the idea at all.

Han shifted on the bed, returned his hands to her overstimulated body, moved his touch upward. She felt the excessive moisture he spread about her love-starved clit – her thighs squeezed together against the enormous pressure. “Uh-uh honey, open wide,” he urged. The encouragement was enough to get her to part her thighs. Han never let up the stimulation after that, using the pad of his thumb against her clit until she had to bury her face in her shoulder, crying out softly.

“Yeah, Leia,” he encouraged. “That’s it, Princess.”

Her sob was a muffled one as she boiled over, coming hard and softly, muting her cries.

He moaned and kissed her forehead again, helping her right their clothes. “Silken. Like you, you mean.”

“Mm hmm,” she smirked, kissing his nose, helping him back into his pants. “You learn well, for a scruffy Nerf herder.”

“And you learn well for an overstuffed shirt.”

The ‘I Love You’ was as unspoken as the ‘I know’, but both meant it.