Work Text:
Wedge has barely climbed out of his x-wing before something blonde and moving fast barrels into him, knocking him off his feet.
Then a pair of lips cover his own and kiss him fiercely, and when he opens his eyes he sees Luke crouched above him.
“Wedge” the younger man says breathlessly, beaming. “Sorry about that,” he continues, standing and offering Wedge a hand to pull him to his feet.
“Luke,” he starts—and he is smiling like an idiot too because he can’t help the way his heart leaps and then settles comfortably every time he sees Luke—”I didn’t realize you would be back.”
“Yeah, well, I found what I needed faster than I thought I would.”
“How was… Jedi stuff?” Wedge asks. He always felt a little out of his element when it came to the more mystical side of Luke’s life.
“Jedi stuff,” Luke punctuates with a kiss and smile, “was good. But it’s good to be back.”
Wedge is well aware that half the hangar is watching their reunion. Still, he doesn’t pull away as Luke leans in for another kiss, longer and deeper this time. Before, when they first got together, public displays of affection had made him uncomfortable. Not that he was embarrassed to be dating Luke—the farthest thing from that, actually—he just wasn’t used to other people witnessing and knowing about the more personal side of his life. Despite the many friends he had in the Rebellion, there had always been some parts he kept locked away from others.
Now, however, he had grown used to he and Luke’s relationship being a public affair. At a certain point he supposed he had just accepted his fate, like the early days when Luke seemed to want to kiss him dizzy across every surface of the rebel base.
Luke, who was now lightly sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and biting gently. Wedge stifles a groan. His blood always ran hot right after he finished a mission, which Luke clearly knew by now and was exploiting to his advantage. The fact that they hadn’t seen each other in weeks didn’t make things any easier.
“Got any plans for the evening, Rogue Leader?” Luke asks, his voice low.
“Oh, I’ve got some ideas.” Wedge replies, the heat growing in his abdomen. “My quarters, now.”
“Yes sir” Luke responds playfully, and Wedge shoots him a pointed glare that is half annoyance, half lust because Luke knows what that does to him and there are just some things that should be kept in their quarters, not used against him while he’s surrounded by his comrades in arms.
They barely make it through the door before Wedge has Luke pinned to the wall, covering his mouth with his own and kissing him hard. Luke parts his lips and allows him to kiss him deeper. Wedge kisses the way he does everything in life: focused and deliberate. He fists a handful of Luke’s hair and presses their mouths together even tighter. They are so close that his eyes go unfocused trying to keep looking at Luke. Luke drops his gaze shyly, but Wedge keeps his own eyes open, wanting to see this, wanting to watch Luke fall apart for him.
Wedge pulls away for a moment. “I missed you.” he says huskily, before diving back into to kiss and bite at Luke’s neck. For most people that wouldn’t be much, but Luke knew that coming from Wedge, it was meaningful. He was never one for large declarations of emotion. He’d always had difficulty with that sort of thing. He preferred to show his feelings through his actions, so whenever he did put words to them, it meant something.
Luke moans loudly as Wedge sucks particularly hard at one spot on his neck.
“Wedge, please.” he pants, grinding their bodies together and aching for more.
“I’m not done yet.” Wedge growls. The bedroom was the singular part of Wedge’s life where he allowed himself to be indulgent. It was the only time he felt no discomfort about taking what he truly wanted. And what he wants, right now, is to reduce Luke Skywalker to a moaning, begging mess.
He keeps one hand in Luke’s hair and the other around his waist as he presses heavy kisses along Luke’s neck, so slowly it’s tortuous. Luke whimpers as he take the time to suck a dark bruise on his collarbone. The mark would be visible for days, surely. But if Luke could kiss him shamelessly in front of everyone, then he could have his fun too.
Luke rubs against his thigh desperately, searching for any sort of release. Wedge’s own pants were far too uncomfortably tight as well by this point. He hooks both arms around Luke’s waist and pulls them towards the direction of the bed, where they topple down together.
Afterwards, lying together tangled in nothing but sheets, Wedge traces his finger to follow the jagged white lines covering Luke’s chest and back. They’re old scars by now, but he still feels a pang of horror and anger seeing them and realizing how easily he could have lost Luke that day. Luke hums pleasantly at the light tickle of Wedge’s fingers on his skin, blissed-out and with his sandy blonde hair spilling across the pillow. He leans over and kisses the round, white scar on Wedge’s shoulder— the lasting evidence of the wound he received hunting down the last remnants of the Empire.
“I’m glad we’re both home.” Luke says.
“Me too, Red Five.”