Several months after the Battle of Endor
Yavin IV is hot and humid, and with the application of judicious amounts of alcohol the evening stretches out into a long languid paradise of gold and purple light, luscious and bright. Leia is gorgeous in it, luminous and sparkling, her hair scraped up into a glorious tumble of braids, loose frayed pieces coming down and curling in the humidity against her temples, the nape of her neck; her loose dress clings to her with sweat and shows the new softness of her body. And it’s hot, but Shara and Kes are hot too, and it’s incredibly unfair. Shara’s long and lean and curvy, in tiny shorts and a scoop-neck shirt that’s sticking to her body too. But it’s Kes who might kill Han. Han’s seen a lot of beautiful women in his life and it’s easy enough to discipline himself about them, regardless of how short their shorts are or how beautifully their shirts cling.
But Kes— Kes is beautiful, and his shirt is stuck to his back with sweat, he’s all a long solid line of muscle, and he’d done some work in the afternoon that had covered him in grime so he’d showered afterward and come out in these light flowing trousers and Han can see the outline of his dick through them, the way it lies and shifts as he moves; Kes is clearly wearing underwear but that’s not toning it down much.
Han is a little drunk but is working really hard not to totally embarrass himself with how bad he wants to suck Kes’s dick, because he’s managed not to this whole time, he’s been cool this whole time even though Kes is pretty much a custom-built fantasy, chiseled jaw and thick arms and lean, muscled thighs, coolness and sly understated wit and pretty eyes, a dimple next to his mouth sometimes that’s truly unfair, stars Han just wants to take him down to the root and bob his head and swallow him down and— uhh
He surfaces into an awkward pause where he has clearly been asked some sort of question that he did not hear.
Leia starts laughing. “Han wasn’t listening,” she says. “He was daydreaming. He gets like this when he drinks.”
“I was just,” Han says, flustered, and accidentally when he waves a hand dismissively, does so in Kes’s direction, and Leia puts it together with where Han must have been staring and realizes, and her eyes go wide and her filter was never very good, and she says,
“Ohhh,” on a rising tone like an alarm siren, “I know what you were daydreaming about!” and he shushes her uncomfortably, but it’s too late. Shara has the slightly-territorial woman’s superpower of knowing exactly when someone is taking too prurient an interest in her man, and having a man who is loyal down to his bones has allowed her to hone that instinct with the soft strop of satisfaction until it is molecules thick, hollow-ground like an expensive razor. She absolutely has tracked the direction of Han’s gaze, and with this observation by Leia, she knows all she has to.
“Is it Kes’s dick?” Shara asks, delighted. She doesn’t know Han that well but she’s truly comfortable with Leia, and that can draw an unnerving degree of truthfulness out of a woman.
“It’s Kes’s dick,” Leia said. “Kes, don’t look like that, you’re a beautiful fellow and you know it, and what’s more, you’re exactly Han’s type, you mustn’t be ashamed.”
“Also,” Shara says, gesturing, “those pants, baby.”
“Ashamed,” Kes says, blinking at them all in some degree of startlement. “I— we were just talking about going to the beach, how did my dick get into this conversation? And what’s wrong with these pants?”
“I wasn’t,” Han says, defensive, and waves a hand at Kes again, “that wasn’t, that’s not, I’m— Leia,” he tries, “we’re married, we’re going to have a baby, I wouldn’t—”
“Relax,” Leia says, “I’ve been daydreaming about Kes’s dick for years, I’m not going to begrudge you that.”
“Wait, really?” says Shara eagerly, just as Kes says, astonished, “What? Really?”
“Please,” Leia says, “he hit puberty right around when I did, you know it’s always later for boys, and he got hot really fast. You all don’t know, you weren’t there, but he went from this little pipsqueak, he and I were like the same size, he was cute but he was harmless, to suddenly being this enormous hunk of beefcake, like, overnight.”
Everyone looks at Kes, and Kes rubs his nose, eyebrows curving intricately. “That’s actually true,” he says, then wrinkles his nose adorably. “I was so awkward though!”
“So was I,” Leia says, “and then you showed up with hands that could fit around my whole waist, and I was on fire.”
“Mm,” Shara muses, suddenly fervent, “he does have really good hands,” and there’s absolutely no doubt what she means, and Han can feel himself making the same face Leia is making as they both clearly consider the ramifications of that. It’s not fair, Han thinks, Leia’s not even drunk.
“Stars,” Kes says, “you’re a bunch of weirdos, I tell you what,” and he gets up, all long limbs and unfair lithe grace, and takes Leia’s empty tea glass and goes into the kitchen with it and comes back with it refilled with more of the chilled tea from Norasol’s carefully-labeled pitcher.
They all stare at his ass as he leaves (it is a fine and beautiful ass, thick and muscular relative to his overall leanness, and those pants do nothing to conceal any bit of it), and as he comes back, he pretends to be knocked back by the force of their combined regards. He sets the cup down next to Leia, turns and grabs three more homebrews out of the cooler and hands them out to the others.
When he’s handed Han a bottle he draws himself up, putting his hands on his chest, the last bottle in one hand sweating half-melted ice onto his shirt. “I’m a married man, I’ll have you know.”
His hands, Han notices, are in fact quite nice, with long strong-looking fingers that taper finely, and well-kept nails. Maybe he’s a farmer, but he clearly does his best to keep up with the dirt. They’re, yeah. They’re good hands. Han’s mouth goes dry and he fumbles with the top of his bottle.
“I’m pretty territorial,” Shara admits, flipping the top off her brew and hastily taking a pull when it starts to foam. It’s fresh; Kes just made it while she was off with Leia saving the galaxy again. It’s not beer, it’s some awful rotgut thing Kes grew up making that comes from his homeworld, made out of the fermented sap of some plant, and Han actually spit it out the first time he tried it, but now that he’s had two bottles of it he’s really gotten a taste for it and it goes down really easily which is probably pretty dangerous, but he’s not thinking about that right now.
“See,” Kes says, a little smug, but Han imagines there’s a wistful regret to it.
Shara gets her brew under control and wipes her mouth. “I’d share, though,” she says, and gestures at Han and Leia. “Just for you guys. Nobody else, but for you guys, yeah.”
“What,” Kes says, genuinely shocked.
Han chokes on brew and narrowly avoids getting it all over himself. He takes a moment to recover from the coughing fit. Leia sits up sharply. “What, really?”
Shara shrugs. “Yeah,” she says. “For you? Yeah.”
“Don’t tease,” Leia says, sitting back. “It’s mean, Shara, I’ve wanted to climb him like a tree since before I really understood what that actually entailed. I’m pretty sure he was my first crush.”
“If I get to participate,” Shara says, “and nobody’s gonna get weird about it, I’m incredibly down with this. I might make a rule or two but overall I’m extremely into this.”
Han manages to get himself under control. “You can’t just volunteer him like that,” he points out, voice a little strained, and gestures to Kes, who is still standing dumbstruck in the middle of the floor, eyes so wide his dark irises are perfect circles.
They’re on the house’s rear balcony, looking out at another glorious and violent sunset, Yavin’s giant gas bulk luminous in the sky and painting the scene in ethereal colors. The last of the direct light picks out catchlights in Kes’s eyes and kisses the planes of his face, and he’s looking about as glorious as he ever does, which is to say, pretty glorious, and his shirt is sleeveless and his arms are, you know, like they are, all thick and muscled and capable-looking and all, and it’s sort of unfair overall, and Han’s mouth goes dry again looking at him. But he makes himself go on. “You can’t just sign your husband up for an orgy,” he elaborates.
Shara is unconcerned, leaning back in her chair and kicking her feet up. “Kes, do you really not want to have a foursome with Han and Leia Organa?”
Kes, extremely unfairly, sucks his lower lip into his mouth, then flips the top off his brew and expertly takes enough of a swig to cancel out its propensity to foam up.
“That wasn’t a no,” Leia points out.
“He’s not a piece of meat,” Han persists.
Kes wipes his mouth on his arm, and says, “Shit, when you put it that way, Shara.”
Leia shrieks and applauds, and Han says, “That wasn’t a yes.”
Kes puts his brew down and says, “It wasn’t a no, Solo.” And just like that, he takes off his shirt, and stars he’s got tattoos, little ones on his chest and ribs, a big one on his back you can just glimpse when he puts his shirt down, and he picks his beer up and sits on the edge of Shara’s chair. And, fuck, he’s grinning, and has his tongue between his teeth a little bit, that fucker, he knows how pretty he is, and he’s looking at Han for a moment, and then he rolls his eyes over to Leia. “You don’t think I didn’t have a crush on you when we were kids? You were so fancy and pretty I couldn’t look at you, for years on end, and then you punched me in the chest and told me to go to hell that time I tried to nerve myself up and talk to you.”
“I never punched you,” Leia says, astonished.
“You absolutely did,” Kes said. “You had gold-painted fingernails and I’d never seen that before so I asked if you had robot hands and you socked me in the sternum.”
Leia considers that. “Okay, but I was five,” she says.
“I was sincere!” he insists, adorably wounded. “I’d been working up my nerve to talk to you for literally days.”
Han is watching this in a kind of fascinated jealousy, but it’s the good kind of jealousy, the kind he’s used to, the kind he’s used his whole life to nurse himself along, that kind of good-bitter pain like a sore in your mouth you can’t keep yourself from poking with your tongue and catching the edges of between your teeth and biting at, and it hurts bad and good, and he can see how this is going to go, he’s going to pretty much just watch this hot guy fuck his wife, but you know what, he’s going to get off on it like crazy and that’s okay. He’s been on the outside his whole life— and even these guys, they keep lapsing into a language he only speaks a handful of words of, and he can only sort of keep up but he hasn’t been complaining much— he’s used to getting by on scraps and he’s sure as shit going to get what he needs to out of this, even if it’s only visuals.
But he happens to glance over at Shara, and she’s watching him, and she grins, and says, “Here’s the thing, Solo, I’m kind of a connoisseur of getting my pussy eaten, I used to do comparative studies, and getting married has really narrowed down my research opportunities. Not that Kes doesn’t do his damnedest, but he’s one man.”
“Oh,” Leia says, and Han swallows hard and looks over at her, because he’s not sure what to make of this and he’s not sure what kind of endorsement she’s really going to give; it’s one of the skills in his arsenal, sure, but he’s a little worried she only thinks he’s good at it because nobody else ever did it to her before. But Leia looks delighted, and kind of avid, and says, “I’ve always wanted to try doing that,” and then she catches his look and puts her tongue between her teeth, and her eyes are sparkling and she looks almost dazed, she’s so excited. “He’s pretty good at it, you won’t be disappointed,” she says to Shara, and Shara looks delighted.
“I feel like I’ve dedicated myself pretty thoroughly to that purpose,” Kes says, one hand splayed out across his flat stomach just under his ribs, gesturing slightly with the other hand with the bottle in it, and he looks kind of like he’s playing at being offended and kind of like he might really be offended.
And here’s the thing: Han knows that the female of the species is more deadly than the male, but he also knows that the weapons women have at their disposal are subtle. He also knows Kes Dameron primarily as the man the Pathfinders’ captain had pointed out as their “scariest motherfucker” upon introduction, and Kes hadn’t failed to live up to that first impression one bit. Han had known the man quite some time before he’d seen him smile for the first time; that first smile, Kes’s teeth had stood out stark white through the blood spattering his face.
But that had been wartime, and the last week had gone a long way toward allaying that first impression; Poe’s favorite game is to get his father to imitate the cries of every animal on the ranch, and Kes has zero hesitation about doing the most absurd things just to get his kid to laugh. Han can’t be startled by either extreme, really; he knows enough now to know that a man who had two homeworlds annihilated out from under him, who has lost everything, who has rebuilt himself with his own hands, and who incidentally wrote the Rebellion’s instruction manuals on both resisting interrogation and finding the weak spots in Stormtrooper armor in hand-to-hand combat, is capable of just about anything, including whatever it takes to get an overtired toddler to take a goddamn nap.
Han is well aware that if either of the women decides things aren’t going to her satisfaction, she’s capable of destroying him with a word. Han’s a scrapper, he can hold his own, but Kes Dameron will be forever, deservedly enshrined in the pantheon of Heroes of the Rebellion as the man who, when his blaster jammed, beat a Stormtrooper to death with a wrench.
Also he’s been so goddamn nice to Han this week, like genuinely, no-shit nice, like nobody ever is, that Han really doesn’t want shit to go sideways with him in any way.
So Han takes his insecurities in his hands and holds them right out, because he’s learning that sometimes that’s what you’ve got to do. “You know,” he says to Kes, “I haven’t studied the art in as much depth as I’d like. You might be better at it than me.”
“He is really good at it,” Shara says. “Like, I hope I didn’t sound ungrateful, because he’s really motherfucking good at it.”
Kes pretends to polish his fingernails on his shirtless chest, then turns his hand to inspect them, licking his lower lip and darting a smug look at Han. “We’ll see, friend,” he says. “Maybe I’ll teach you some things. Maybe you’ll teach me some things.” He takes a leisurely swig from his bottle, then steps backward, jerking his head towards the door into the house. “I vote we take this inside because I would swear I built this balcony at an angle where my auntie can’t see it from her house but I got a suspicion she manages to anyway.”
“Really?” Shara says, looking slightly unnerved, then annoyed. “Stars, Kes, really?” And it is, suddenly, crystal clear that they fuck on this balcony like all the time.
Kes rolls his eyes. “You know what she’s like,” he says. And the thing is, Han loves Kes’s auntie Norasol, in a way he can’t explain. She’s a nosy old bat, domineering and ill-mannered and constantly offering unsolicited advice on things she has no business knowing about, but she’s almost always right, and she’s uncannily capable of knowing what you need and getting it for you. She’s both the best and worst person he’s ever met, and what’s more she knows he adores her, and is apparently sincerely fond of him in return because of it. Han doesn’t get a lot of that in his life. He is absolutely not going to have an orgy anywhere she could see him and possibly come to disapprove of him as a result.
Han has kind of grown a thing for the Dameron-Bey family, and that’s not typical for him, and he’s just not going to think about it. He gets to his feet a little gingerly; his leg is mostly healed but he’s got lingering weakness and has discovered that if he limps judiciously it gets him sympathy. Kes is already standing, and so, as he’d sort of not been letting himself hope, comes over to take Han’s arm over his shoulder. “Don’t strain yourself, man,” he says, and his smirk is blinding at this range, the taut line of his body searing-hot against Han’s side, and Han stumbles a little, genuinely, not just to feel Kes’s arm go tighter around him, big hand spreading against the edge of his ribcage to steady him.
“Well,” Shara says, “if Kes says yes, let’s do this,” and she uncoils herself from her chair and pulls Leia to her feet and right there, puts a hand on her face and bends her head and kisses her, and Kes is the one who stumbles this time, watching them.
Oh, it’s hot; Leia’s eyes are wide but unseeing, and Shara’s jaw moves in a way that makes it clear this isn’t a shallow, chaste kiss. Leia’s eyes glaze and roll back and close, and she sags into Shara’s grasp, neck rolling back in an unwitting submission Han’s barely managed to wring out of her a couple times and he knows firsthand how fucking sweet she is like this.
Kes says something in Iberican that Han doesn’t know the dictionary definition of but can easily grasp the sentiment behind, and tugs Han into the door— there are two doorways out onto the balcony, and one of them goes straight to Kes and Shara’s bedroom, and Han has been in here before and worked really hard not to think too much about it, it’s a beautiful room with opened windows and a lot of light, gauzy curtains that the breeze plays with, layered carpets and a big low bed and a small low couch and a painted little table and the sort of intimate knicknacks and debris that speaks to someone living a settled life in this spot, and the thing that had driven Han crazy was that it smelled like Kes in here, not like a dirty laundry smell like bedrooms with infrequently-changed sheets had, but like an earthy-loamy-fresh smell, like all the good stuff about being planetside, and it’s the dumbest thing but the whole time they were sitting in here Han had been aware of it, and he is again now.
Han stumbles in after Kes, still watching as Shara pulls back slightly and Leia chases dazedly after her mouth, and Han’s seen Leia look like that before, has seen that glassy- eyed flushed desire take her like that, but he’s never seen Shara anything other than cool and collected and the baddest bitch in any given room. Shara’s pupils are wide in her lovely amber-brown eyes and her mouth is even shinier and lusher-looking than usual and she looks like maybe she’s going to eat Leia alive.
“That’s,” Han says, gesturing a little lamely, and turns to Kes, who is still holding him, and Kes licks his lips and laughs, low and soft.
“Now you’re asking for Norasol to bring this up over breakfast tomorrow,” Kes says, and Shara lets go of Leia’s face and grabs her hand instead, towing her into the bedroom.
“No way she’s got time to spy on us,” Shara said, “you know Poe’s not even in bed yet,” and she pulls Leia in the door and straight over to the bed, sets her drink down on the bedside table, takes Leia’s cup and sets it there too.
“Man,” Kes says, “I figured you knew this by now, but one thing about my auntie is you never underestimate the shit she’s got time to know about.” He pulls a sheer curtain across the doorway but leaves the door open, and the wind stirs the curtain as he crosses the room. Han absolutely doesn’t need the support but also doesn’t want to let go, so they walk together.
“I say they put on a little show,” Shara says, unbuckling her belt and tossing it onto a chair by the bed. Leia is sitting on the bed, looking between Shara and Han— or maybe she’s looking at Kes, Han can’t tell.
“Oh yeah?” Kes says, and deposits Han carefully onto the bed, takes their drinks and puts them onto the nightstand. “So far I’m the only one with my shirt off, I feel like I’m ahead of the game.”
“Take your pants off,” Shara said. “And lie right down here next to me.”
Kes laughs, looks at Han, shrugs, and unfastens his trousers without hesitation. He shucks them gracefully, kicking them out of the way with a practiced motion, and crawls onto the bed. He’s wearing undershorts, tight ones, and he’s about half-hard, a nice solid thick curve, undemanding but heavy-looking, and Han is completely unable not to stare. Kes pauses, right next to Han, on his knees; he had been crawling toward Shara, but he rocks his weight back, sits on his heels next to Han, and looks him up and down.
“You like what you see,” he says.
“Uh,” Han says. He can’t help it. He’s thinking about Kes’s dick, and he’s thinking about how Kes’s skin would taste, and he manages to look up at Kes’s face, dragging his gaze up. “I mean, yeah,” he says, only half-trying for suave and just totally missing.
Kes grabs him by the back of the neck, too fast for Han to flinch, and pulls him in, but then his hand goes gentle and he slides it along the side of Han’s jaw and tips Han’s head back and kisses him, and it’s a damn long time since Han’s kissed anyone with facial hair. Kes doesn’t have a moustache, just that little goatee, but he hasn’t shaved since morning and his stubble rasps at Han’s, and he’s kissing him hot and dirty and Shara makes a gleeful whooping sound, and Han hasn’t tipped his head back for anybody in a damn long time indeed. Kes tastes amazing, mostly like the sour-sweet brew they’d been drinking, and he’s kissing Han like he’s hungry for it, tongue all firm-soft and coaxing.
“Stars,” Leia says fervently, and Han blinks an eye open, manages to focus enough to tell that Leia is watching with her lips parted and her eyes wide and her shirt off, fuck, Han’s so turned-on now he might die, and Kes twists to glance over without breaking their mouths’ contact, and just groans into Han’s mouth.
“You said it, buddy,” Han says, as Kes pulls off, breathing hard.
Leia’s topless, and her naked breasts are fuller than usual, softer, more of a handful, but Han knows they’re too tender to play with like he wants to so badly. She’s in Shara’s lap, Shara leaned back against the pillows at the headboard, and Shara’s got her shorts off, she’s in just her underpants, and is still in her shirt. Leia had been in a dress, so she’s wearing only underpants, cute frilly ones Han hasn’t seen before, and it strikes him that she was probably wearing those for him for later and it’s almost too much for him.
Shara pats the bed next to herself. “Lie down here, baby,” she says to Kes, “and let Han suck your dick, he’d like that for an appetizer, wouldn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Han says; there’s no point being indirect.
“Okay,” Kes says, with a little laugh, trailing his fingers down from Han’s jaw. “You could take your shirt off, though, maybe.”
“Maybe,” Han says, and skims out of the offending garment, and sheds his trousers while he’s at it. Kes lies down next to Shara, and Shara leans over and kisses him, and Leia’s staring glassily at them. Han climbs onto the bed, and runs a hand up the outside of Kes’s thigh; Kes bends his knee a little in response, pushing his body up toward Han like an offering.
Shara lets go of his mouth, and murmurs, “Now Kes, I want you to do something for me, okay?”
“Okay,” Kes says, gazing at her like she’s his whole sky.
“Don’t come until I say so,” she says, and Kes shivers a little, and he’s all the way hard now, and Han doesn’t want to just grab him while he’s distracted so he waits.
“Okay,” Kes whispers.
“Why not?” Leia asks, which saves Han the trouble.
“Because,” Shara says, looking at Leia, and once she breaks the eye contact it’s like Kes is freed and can look at Han. He grins kind of apologetically. “I want him to save it for me. I don’t want this to be over too quick.”
“You said you might make some rules, so if that’s one, I can follow it,” Kes says, and he shifts a little, cocks one leg up to slide it against Han’s flank, pulling him in without trapping him. He turns his attention to Han. “Go easy on me?”
“If I gotta,” Han grumbles, but Kes is even hotter turned-on like this, his skin flushed and his eyes sparkling and stars, he’s young, he’s really young, he’s like twenty-four and looks immortal and this is what was underneath the terrifying stoic badass grizzled exterior he was projecting the whole time in the Pathfinders, that was all a lie and this is the truth. Kes’s Pathfinder grin was a vicious baring of teeth: his real grin is a sweet perfect thing that starts shy and turns dazzling, and he deploys it now.
“I can’t do you justice,” Kes says, “and do them justice too, you know?”
“Fair point,” Han says, and emboldened by the dazzling flash of teeth in Kes’s smile, he pulls Kes’s underwear down and off him, and now Kes is the first one naked.
He’s gorgeous, of course, and Leia makes a fervent little noise, then leans in and kisses Kes. Han can’t really see, at this angle, but he can see the way Kes’s dick jumps. Han has to touch it, wraps his hand around it, and it’s hot and thick and heavy in his hand. Kes groans, and Leia shifts so now Han can see them, can watch his mostly-naked wife kissing an incredibly hot guy whose dick he’s about to suck.
It’s really hot, because when Han’s kissing her he can’t see how she looks but he can now, and she’s so into it, she’s got her eyes rolled back and shut, she’s breathing hard, and pink in the cheeks, and Shara’s hands are on her ribs, Shara’s watching, eyes glittering, and Han starts jacking Kes’s dick, slow and firm, watching all the muscles in Kes’s abdomen tense as he arches his back into it a little.
Han can’t stand it, he has to get his mouth on him. He lowers his head and licks at the one tattoo, an obscure little glyph in a symbology Han hasn’t seen anywhere else, inscribed on Kes’s ribs just under his pectoral muscle on the one side. Kes’s skin is clean and salt-sweet, and Han scrapes his teeth down the line of Kes’s ribs, glances up and Kes has broken off from Leia’s mouth to breathe harder, and Leia is watching him now so he spares her a half-grin, but it’s Shara who says, low and breathy, “he’s so pretty,” and Han’s pretty sure she means Kes but she’s looking at him.
Emboldened, he slides down the bed a little ways, settling himself between Kes’s legs, and put his mouth on Kes’s dick, just a slow swipe of his tongue across the head before taking it into his mouth. Kes shivers and moans, gorgeously responsive, and he’s fucking delicious, salt-sweet-tang filling Han’s mouth and nose.
Han doesn’t really have any intention of taking it easy; he sets right to work like he was born to do this, like it’s his favorite thing, and well, it is something he’s really missed. Leia has a strap-on she wears sometimes; Lando bought it for her and Han thought it was a mean-spirited dig at him, but she loves it, is enchanted with the whole idea, and Han does this for her in it but it’s different. She gets off on it, but it’s not the same as this, where swirling his tongue and then bobbing his head wrings this beautiful, desperate little noise out of Kes.
Leia moans too, and he glances over, assuming Shara’s doing something to her-- and sure, Shara’s hand is down between their bodies, and she’s got her fingers pressed against Leia through her underwear, rocking just right against her, but Leia’s watching him, and as he glances up she reaches over and slides her hand into his hair like she does when he’s going down on her, and she laces her fingers through and tugs a little.
“Look at you, Han,” she says, “you’re so pretty with your mouth open like that.”
And here’s the thing, Han’s had all kinds of sex in his life, most for lust, some for love, some for money, some for survival, and he’s had people watch him do various of those things, and sometimes the watching was the point and sometimes it was just something that happened, but this— he’s being watched by three people, and all three of them are into it, but all three of them are also into him, and that might be a first for him.
It feels really good, especially Leia’s hand in his hair and the way she’s clearly so into this. So Han puts on a show, but it’s not really like putting on a show, there’s no artifice: he just gets into it, works his way down until he can take all of Kes into his mouth and throat, hands-free, and Kes is panting and writhing, all muscle and potential but his skin is so soft, his inner thigh smooth as a woman’s against Han’s shoulder, and he’s making soft desperate noises, almost as high-pitched as the ones Leia makes when Han makes her come on his fingers and tongue.
It’s Leia who comes first, yanking on Han’s hair and shuddering with that characteristic stutter to her breathing; he has to pull off Kes’s cock a little to breathe and look up at her, and Shara’s hand is inside Leia’s underpants, Shara’s watching her and grinning with her tongue between her teeth, but Leia’s watching Han as she shivers and moans, riding through it, bucking against Shara, mashing her breasts against Shara’s chest.
Han groans, and as she lets go of his hair he starts to really work Kes over, holding him by the hips and taking him down, and he tastes fantastic, salty and trembling and so close, Han can taste how close he is. Kes cries out, and after a moment shoves at Han’s forehead, saying something Han doesn’t understand, and it’s only after a moment when Kes pushes him again that Han remembers and slowly pulls off, and Kes grabs himself hard and half sits-up, wheezing.
“I said stop,” Kes pants, eyes glazed, “I can’t--”
“Good boy,” Shara says, “good boy,” and Han remembers he was supposed to go easy on him, but stars, he’s almost out of his mind with how bad he wants to keep going, wants to suck everything out of this beautiful creature— it’s almost frightening, how intensely he wants to push him down and take him back in and suck him dry.
Kes is breathing hard, partly turned away, face screwed up and hand squeezed tight around the base of his dick, and Han can still taste how close he was, he’s dazed with it— but he kind of distantly feels a little prod of worry. He almost screwed that up.
“Sorry,” he says breathlessly, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, “I was— really into that—”
“You gotta speak Basic to him,” Shara says to Kes, and Kes manages a laugh.
“I forgot how,” he says, and wipes his hand across his belly— that’s Han’s spit, leaving that glossy trail along that perfect skin— and reaches out to pat Han’s shoulder, uncoordinated; he moves his hand up to curl affectionately around Han’s neck. “That’s probably not the first time you’ve sucked all the words outta someone’s brain, hey?”
“No,” Han says, cocky with it; Kes looks so wrecked, breathing hard and undone and half-dazed, hips still hitching a little, he’s clearly still right on the edge and half-tormented with it.
Leia laughs and reaches out and pulls Han in and kisses him; she’s soft and pliant and postorgasmic, which in her case means she’s ramping up to do the really brilliant stuff. He usually can’t get her off that fast and has to spend longer with her in the edgy impatient reckless stage, which is also fun, but he likes her best like this, and has a moment’s thought of just fucking her, how slick and willing she’d be to just take him, for as long as he can keep going— but no, there are two other people here and they’re just getting started.
Still. “Stars, I wanna fuck you so hard,” he says, and she shivers, and Shara’s still got her fingers in her, and is watching them intently, her lower lip sucked into her mouth.
“I think,” Shara says, “if Kes can handle going on, I think we gotta have a master class in cunnilingus here— hell, if he’s not ready, I am, let’s see if I still remember how to do this.”
“You’ve got a head-start,” Han points out. “Should we all take a turn?”
“Fuck,” Kes says, and sits up. “Fuck, if— you know I’m gonna go off like— instant— if you let me put my mouth on her.”
“I know, baby,” Shara says. “You’re doing good, you’re so good— can you watch?” She pets him with the hand that’s not down Leia’s underpants, smoothing his short hair away from his face, and he gazes at her lovingly, like she’s holding some secret to the universe. Han notes in fascination how strongly Kes reacts to her praise, how pliant he is, how much it seems to calm him.
“Yeah,” Kes says, “I can— I’m good.”
“You are,” Shara says warmly, and the look she’s giving him is maybe the tenderest expression Han has ever seen on her face. He doesn’t know Shara all that well; she’s filed neatly into the Terrifyingly Competent Women category of Leia’s acquaintances, which is a large category and one Han enjoys but generally tries to stay out of the way of.
Shara’s eyes shift to Han, and her smile goes from tender to speculative. “I wanna go first,” she says. “But I don’t know, logistics isn’t my strong suit.”
Kes laughs. “It’s mine,” he says. “But I think that part of my brains is offline with all the rest of the parts of my brains.”
“You go down on her,” Han says, to Shara, “I go down on you, you’ll probably get her off first because you have a head start, but I’ll do my damnedest to catch up.”
“If I recover I help you,” Kes says, but he sounds a little strained. “This— I think to call it hair trigger.” His accent is thicker than it usually is, less fluent; normally it’s just a hint of sibilance in his consonants and a sharpening of vowels, but he’s stumbling and clumsy in it now, eloquent testament to how distracted he is. It’s really goddamn hot and Han is incredibly proud of himself.
“You can supervise,” Shara says, and leans in and kisses Leia, pulls her hand out of Leia’s underwear, and shifts Leia over to put her down-- and it’s hot, on many levels, but not least because Shara’s not a big woman by any stretch but she can clearly so easily lift Leia, it just underscores how tiny and petite Han’s wife really is, and he can’t stop finding that hot, how he could pretty much stuff her in his pocket but if he tried to she’d annihilate him.
Leia lets Shara manhandle her, though, and seems pretty into it, and Han makes a note to maybe try handling her a little rougher. He has mostly not, up to now. He’s had a careful policy of taking what he can get and has only tested any boundaries out of self-destructive tendencies, which mostly she’s been smart enough to see through. But maybe, maybe he can start to believe she’s really going to stay with him. She did marry him. She is carrying his child.
That last tidbit is still pretty mind-blowing.
“Here,” Kes says, and scoots over, pulling Leia down onto her side in the middle of the bed, and gesturing at Shara, saying something in Iberican.
Ah— if Leia’s on her side, Shara can reach her, and then Shara can be in a position where Han can reach her, and— Shara sits up and pulls her shirt off over her head. She’s wearing a breastband, a cute one with some decorative detailing; she pulls it off as well and reveals her small soft breasts. She’s lean and sleek overall, and the muscles of her abdomen show through her skin as she twists onto her back and raises her hips to pull her underpants off.
“Oh yeah,” Leia says, and Kes bites his lip and helps her pull her underpants off. Now everyone but Han is naked, and that’s probably just as well, they’re all younger than him and they’re all beautiful. Shara’s skin is a shade or two darker than Kes’s, both darker and pinker than his gold-bronze skin, and she’s smooth and even-toned but has some subtly silver-toned rippled scars on her belly that Han realizes are stretch marks from pregnancy. He’s heard of such a thing, mostly from women fretting about them, but he hasn’t really seen them before; they’re surprisingly beautiful.
So as she settles down and looks up at him, quirking her eyebrows and gesturing with one hand as if offering herself, he nods a little, reverently, and runs his hand along her side.
“Can I,” he says.
“You can do whatever you like,” she says, amused. “I’ll keep veto power but I can’t think of anything I’m not willing to try. I’ll let you know, though.”
“I have some advice,” Kes says. He’s looking a bit more composed now, kneeling on the bed and watching the two women. He glances down to Han, and grins. “Start with her breasts.”
They are lovely breasts, and Han is perfectly happy to put his face down between them, to kiss his way from her collarbone to a nipple, pull it into his mouth and tongue at it.
Shara has her head turned and is already making herself comfortable, using one of Leia’s thighs as a pillow, but she pauses and puts her hand on the back of Han’s head, running her fingers through his hair and arching her back with a soft little hum of pleasure.
Leia makes a little noise too, and Han glances up to see that she’s biting her fingers, her other hand splayed across her chest, flushed and eager. Shara’s got her mouth on her and her fingers in her, and if Han’s going to catch up he’d better get moving.
He nibbles his way down her lithe body, scraping his teeth along the point of her hipbone, smoothing a palm across the soft skin of her belly.
“Don’t tease her to death,” Kes says, and he has recovered enough that he reaches over and puts his hand on one of her breasts, squeezing familiarly at it, catching the nipple between two of his fingers. “Start with your tongue flat, yeah?”
Han winks at Kes, but follows the instruction. Shara’s busy, but she sighs heavily, just from what Kes is doing to her breasts with his hand Han thinks, and she twitches her thighs a little farther apart. He decides to take the assist, and puts his face down to her, cradling her hips in his hands and pressing the flat of his tongue to her, experimental at first but firm and sure as she responds.
He knows how this works. She’s both more sweet and bitter than Leia, and differently-shaped, but the basic idea is the same. She’s beautiful here, too; Leia’s skin is white-pale and so her labia are darker pink than her skin, but Shara’s dark enough that hers stand out bright and rosy, blushing to red.
She’s wet already, and sweet with it, slippery, opening to him, and Han doesn’t need to look to know Kes is kneading her breasts with both hands, working her over.
“Fingers,” Kes says, “use your fingers,” and Leia moans softly, somewhere. Han glances up; Shara’s definitely got at least two fingers in her and Kes has his other hand on Leia’s torso, not quite playing with her breasts but gently, gently cradling one of them, caressing her. Han has the absent thought that he should take notes; Kes would know about sex with a pregnant woman, after all. Maybe he can ask after this.
But right now, he’s got his face buried between Shara’s supple, substantial thighs— she’s slender, but she’s wiry and more powerful than a glance would suggest— and he takes Kes’s advice and slides two of his fingers carefully into her, curling to feel the delicate, soft textures of her inner walls, finding where the smoothness gives way to ridges, pressing carefully. She makes a soft little noise and shivers, and he sucks gently at her, using his tongue to press and then pull at her outer structures. It takes him a little bit to establish what kind of pressure she likes, and where, and to get her into a rhythm, but the push and flex of her hips gives him plenty of feedback, and Kes keeps up a low, breathless commentary that flows right over him.
Leia is moaning, soft and gradually intensifying; she’s close, now, for sure, and Kes’s running commentary is only encouraging her. Shara makes a fervent little noise too, and then Leia gasps and cries out softly, writhing as she comes again.
Shara murmurs encouragement, gentling her attentions, and Han redoubles his own efforts. After a moment, Leia wriggles away a little, and Shara rolls onto her back, giving Han better access.
“Fuck, baby, that’s good,” Shara says, and Kes leans down and puts his mouth on her breast. After a moment, Leia sits up, flushed and sparkling, and leans over to put her mouth on Shara’s other breast, and then she and Kes are kissing one another and Shara, and it’s really hot and Shara’s clearly extremely into it.
“Harder,” Kes says to Han, “go harder,” and Han changes his angle so he can press a third finger into her, making Shara moan and bring her hips up to meet him. She’s breathing hard, her body slick and engaged, clamping down on his fingers and moving against them— she’s powerful and clearly knows what she wants and how to get it, and it’s incredibly hot.
“Oh fuck,” Shara says, breathless.
“That’s it, caro, that’s it,” Kes says to Han, grinning at him before going back to kissing Leia. Leia’s nearly out of her mind with bliss, lolling languidly next to Shara. Kes picks his head up and kisses Shara instead, and murmurs something to her in Iberican, something encouraging probably.
“Fuck,” Shara says, almost pleading; she’s so close, Han can taste how close she is, and his jaw hurts but he’s determined not to let up. She makes a wordless noise, and then jerks against him with a shuddering little cry, and Han grins up at Kes, pressing his tongue against her as her inner muscles clench rhythmically at his fingers. She shudders hard, and as she lets up, he closes his eyes to taste the burst of sweetness on his tongue.
“Oh wow,” Leia says admiringly, and kisses Shara, who moans and shivers.
Kes moves down and kisses Han, languid but hungry. “Beautiful,” he says, a strong hand hooking around the back of Han’s neck. Han’s so turned-on he’s almost dazed with it. Kes lets go of his neck and turns to put his mouth on Shara instead, and she makes a soft, fervent little noise— Han’s fingers are still in her, and she clenches down with a little cry as Kes gets his tongue on her with an expert familiarity.
Han moves his fingers carefully, gently, and Shara grabs Kes’s head and jerks up against him, coming again already, throwing her head back with a hoarse exclamation.
Leia’s sitting up on her elbow, watching in fascination. Kes doesn’t let up, and Shara makes a noise that’s almost a sob, clenching down around Han’s fingers with impressive strength.
Kes’s body is next to Han’s, and Han uses his free hand to stroke admiringly across Kes’s broad chest. Kes gives him a grin, and tilts his head to press his tongue harder against Shara.
Shara comes yet again, shuddering, and Kes lets up this time, moving his head to kiss Han. He tastes of Shara, even sweeter now, and he’s clearly just about as turned-on as Han is.
“She can keep going like this,” Kes says in a moment. “But she might take your fingers off.”
“Can I,” Leia says, uncertain.
“C’mere,” Kes says, and helps her climb down between him and Han. Shara giggles and hooks her leg over the back of Kes’s shoulder so she doesn’t have to spread her thighs any farther apart. “Here, let me show you,” Kes says, low and sweet, and Han slowly pulls his fingers out of Shara so that Leia can slide hers in.
Han puts his mouth on Leia’s neck and guides her wrist to show her the right angle to use. Kes puts his mouth back on Shara, ostensibly showing Leia how she should use her tongue, but unsurprisingly he can’t resist getting to work again, and in a moment Shara shivers into yet another orgasm.
Leia exclaims in wonder— and Han has watched her masturbate, she always does so with her fingers on her clitoris, it occurs to him she’s probably never come on her own fingers like this, so she’s never felt a woman’s orgasm from the inside like this, hasn’t felt the soft-gripping flutters and exquisite little shudders.
“You gotta taste her,” Han mutters; he’s pressed up against Leia’s back, so he slides his hand down and starts to rub her.
Kes kisses Leia, and then Leia puts her mouth on Shara, and Han works his fingers into Leia, who is gloriously wet. Kes gives Han a dazed grin as Leia shudders against his chest, free hand clutching at his shoulder. Han bites his lip, sinking his fingers into her. The angle’s not quite right to get her off and she’s distracted by working on Shara, but she’s into it, and moving her hips cooperatively.
If they were alone this is about when Han would switch from fingers to dick. “Stars,” he breathes in Leia’s ear, “I wanna fuck you, somebody’s gotta fuck you.”
Leia shudders, but doesn’t pause in her ministrations to Shara, who’s making some increasingly desperate soft noises. Kes laughs, and moves down, sliding off the edge of the bed. Han takes a moment to catch on but then realizes where he’s going, and pulls Leia back against him to give Kes room to work, putting his face down between Leia’s thighs. Kes deliberately bites at Han’s fingers on his way in, and Han laughs and gives him a little more space.
It only takes them a moment or two to make Leia lose composure entirely. Shara sits up and watches, avid and bright-eyed. “Look at my husband,” she says to Han, softly, awed.
“He’s real pretty,” Han agrees.
“I wanna watch him fuck her,” Shara says.
Leia writhes in Han’s arms, and shudders violently as she comes, convulsively straightening her legs and arching her back. Kes manages not to get socked in the jaw by her pelvis and rides her out, gentling her with his mouth, murmuring encouragements.
“Fuck,” Han says, “so do I.”
Kes kisses Leia’s thighs as she calms down, and looks up at them. He’s kneeling on the floor. “If I’m good can I get back on the bed?” he asks, amused.
Shara laughs. “Come here, baby,” she says.
Han pulls Leia back onto the bed, handling her gently even as he picks her up entirely. She blinks up at him and smiles, and it’s maybe the sweetest expression he’s ever seen her make, dopey and pleasure-flushed and languid. For a moment Han thinks she might have had enough. He puts her down and kisses her shoulder. “You want to keep going?” he asks.
“Yes,” she says, breath hitching, “stars, I want someone to fuck me, I don’t care who.”
“Did you bring Lando’s present with you?” he asks.
She blinks at him again, but then catches his meaning and lights up. “Yes,” she said. They live a nomadic enough life that Han supposes it’s not surprising she’d have it among her luggage; anything not packed and ready to take is liable to wind up lost or abandoned somewhere. He’s got no idea how they’re going to manage with a baby but at the moment he’s feeling optimistic.
Kes has stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed, and is sitting on the edge; Shara had been kissing him, but they’re both looking now, curious.
“I’m just saying,” Han says, “it expands the possibilities a little, you know?”
“I do know,” Leia says, and grins, looking over at Kes and Shara.
“Huh,” Kes says. “I dunno if I wanna wreck the surprise by asking.” He retrieves Han’s drink from the nightstand and hands it to him, then gets his own and takes a long swig. He looks fucking glorious, skin flushed bright, eyes keen, a little breathless, erection standing out in front of him with a kind of mesmerizing turgidity. Han can’t help but eye it speculatively: he’d love to watch Kes fuck Leia, but he’d also really love for Kes to fuck him, and he’s not honestly sure which he’d enjoy more.
Shara hands Leia her glass of tea, but pretty quickly the two of them get distracted by kissing each other. Han eyes Kes a little more intently. “What are you thinking?” he asks.
“I’m generally figuring Shara’s in charge,” Kes says. “I’m just gonna do what I’m told.”
Han laughs. “That works well for you, huh?”
Kes grins, takes another swig of his drink. “In most things,” he says. “Not everything, but most things.” He has such a pretty real smile, is the thing; there’s a dimple beside his mouth that a smile carves into a crease, and it’s about the most winsome thing Han has ever seen.
“Okay,” Leia says suddenly, breaking off kissing Shara, visibly gathering herself, and her eyes are sparkling in the kind of way that means trouble. “Okay, I have a plan.” She also has her glass in one hand and her other hand full of Shara’s breast and clearly can’t bear to free either hand.
“A plan,” Shara said.
“I gotta go get the thing from our room first, though,” she says.
“That means you’d have to let go of my tit,” Shara says, amused.
“It’s so squishy,” Leia says, distracted.
“It is,” Shara says, and pulls her in and kisses her again until Leia almost drops her drink. Fortunately, it’s empty.
“I got some experience with Leia’s plans,” Kes says. “Not since she made general, mind. I bet she’s better at the supporting details now?”
Han shakes his head, since Leia’s busy with Shara, but he has overestimated how distracted she is— or, more accurately, underestimated how good she is at knowing when she’s being discussed.
“Excuse you,” Leia says, “my plans are flawless.”
“Of course they are,” Kes says, diplomatic. “But fill your support staff in, that we can better realize your vision, and let us sort out some of the mundane details ahead of time instead of on the fly, hey?”
“Oh wow,” Han said, “you really do know her.”
“Hey,” Leia says.
“No, he has a point,” Shara said. “What’s this plan?” She sits back, taking a long languid hit from her bottle.
“Kes fucks me,” Leia says. “Shara fucks Han.” She looks at Shara. “Have you ever fucked a man?”
Shara stares at her for a long moment with a very carefully straight face. “I,” she says finally. “What?”
“You never mentioned what Lando’s present was,” Han points out.
Leia, fortunately, finds this hilarious instead of offensive. While she’s laughing, Shara says, “I’m gonna make a shrewd guess that it’s a strap-on.”
“It is,” Han says.
Kes looks mystified, and Shara says something to him in Iberican, and he stays blank a moment but then his eyebrows go up. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, that— does open some possibilities.” He clears his throat. “Er, have you?” he asks Shara.
Shara shakes her head. “I’ve used one on a woman a time or two,” she says, “but never a man.”
“I have only seen one in holoporns,” Kes admits. He looks really… Han can’t quite be sure whether he’s unnerved or very interested. He has a feeling Kes isn’t sure either.
“And if that doesn’t finish Shara off,” Leia says, “we can put another sheath on the thing and I’ll fuck her with it. I’ve got a pack of like, a dozen at least.”
“Oh,” Shara says, suddenly much more interested, not that she hadn’t seemed interested before. The thing is, Han has the feeling that the sex in the Bey-Dameron household is pretty excellent just with the basics, so they’ve probably not done a great deal of experimenting. And Kes seems both eager and easy to please, which can go a great distance in keeping things exciting without innovating. So this may well be a fairly new world for them.
Leia claps her hands a little, and gets out of the bed, setting her glass down on the bedside table. “I’ll be right back,” she says.
Kes and Shara look at each other, then look at Han. “Well,” Shara says, “this is hardly fair, nobody’s really touched you yet. I haven’t even seen your dick.”
Han’s still in his underwear, he realizes. “Oh,” he says.
“Come here,” Kes says, and takes his bottle and sets it aside before gently but compellingly hauling Han onto the bed between them, his back to Kes and his front to Shara. Shara pulls his underpants down and off of him, and Kes wraps his arms around him, holding him in place and flattening one big hand across his belly, then moving the other down to wrap around Han’s neglected erection.
Kes’s breath is hot in Han’s ear. “Oh,” he says, his whole body pressed to Han’s from behind, “this poor guy is so ignored. You know, I don’t make a lot of time with other guys but this I know how to do.”
“He had permission,” Shara says. “I didn’t like the idea of him messing around but he said sometimes when you have a bunkmate and you’re both really lonely, you lend a hand, and I said baby, I wouldn’t begrudge you that, as long as you tell me about every time it happened, later, and make it sexy.”
“It was never this sexy,” Kes says in Han’s ear, “but I tell her it was, you understand.”
“Of course,” Han says, a little strangled. Kes’s hand isn’t any bigger than his, but he’s got different calluses, and he moves it in different ways, and his breathing is ragged in Han’s ear, right at the hinge of his jaw, making him shiver.
“Sometimes they asked me to talk about sex, and I would tell them all about how I couldn’t tell them about my wife,” Kes says. “How she loves me so good but I can’t tell you how. You ever seen her? You know which one she is? That’s right, she’s the scary-hot one with the curling hair and the green leather flight jacket,” and Shara is watching him, smiling, lower lip between her teeth, one hand almost absently working at the breast Leia let go of. “No,” Kes goes on, “she’s territorial as anything, and what’s hers is hers. I can’t tell you a word of it but I will tell her everything we do here. I have permission.”
“She push you around a little bit?” Han asks, slightly strangled; he’s had a lot of handjobs in his life, mostly mediocre but some excellent, and this is an excellent one, firm and sure and knowing and most of all, eager; Kes is so turned-on by now he’s radiating it.
“I can’t tell you yes,” Kes says, “but I would ask you, if you had a woman like that, wouldn’t you do every thing she ever asked you to do?”
“Yes, sir, I would,” Han said.
Kes laughs, low but bright. “You do,” he says, and bites Han’s neck, firm and sharp. Han almost comes, and barely manages to keep himself under control.
“Oh shit,” Shara says, delighted. Kes just groans.
Leia comes in just then, and pauses, briefly dumbstruck at the tableau. “You never said how much he likes getting bit,” Kes says, and his hand had stilled on Han’s dick but starts moving again, firm and slow and maddening. He hovers his mouth just over Han’s neck, and darts his tongue out to lick over the place he bit.
“He does?” Leia tilts her head a little. “He does.”
“Fuck,” Han whimpers, and Kes lets up on his cock as he bites down on his neck again. It’s not as shocking this time, but it’s still intense, and he gasps and twitches as Kes intensifies the pressure of his jaws.
“If we’d known,” Shara says, “we could’ve just tortured him all night instead of all this nonsense.”
“I had no idea,” Leia says, getting up onto the bed and opening the little shoulder bag she’d brought. “I mean, I knew he was fun to mess with, but not like that.”
Kes lets up slowly with his teeth, then releases entirely, and licks gently over the sore place, where there are undoubtedly teeth marks now. He blows on the licked part, cooling it.
“The night is young,” he says, low and hoarse, voice vibrating through Han’s shoulder blade to his sternum.
“Says,” Han manages to say, “the guy who literally wrote the manual on resisting torture.”
“Oh,” Kes says, amused, mouth just brushing against the crook of Han’s neck, “don’t act like you don’t know anything about the topic, hotshot.”
“Consensual sexual torture does make for a nice change of pace,” Leia puts in, and she’s spoiling the game a little bit, looking a little too wistful.
“I’m into it, if we keep it light,” Han says, trying to convey a warning, to her at least. She seems to catch his meaning, smiling softly at him.
“Light,” Kes scoffs, and bites down in a slightly different spot, overlapping just a little with the first one. Han makes a high-pitched, desperate noise. Leia looks delighted.
“Stars, look at my husband,” she says to Shara.
“I just want to watch Kes wreck him now,” Shara says.
“I would never,” Kes says, licking at that excruciatingly-tender overlapping spot. He bites down again, in yet another place, and Han whimpers and writhes. “You want him wrecked, you lazy woman, you do the work.” Han can feel the curve of Kes’s smile against his neck, his breath hot and stubble brushing rough but so, so gentle across the sensitive skin. Kes’s arms are still around him, warm skin and hard muscle, and his hands, strong hands— He scrapes his teeth against a totally different spot, the back of Han’s neck, and Han shudders in his grip, too far gone not to moan pathetically.
It’s not the biting. It’s that Kes is stronger than him. It’s that Shara’s looking at him with almost predatory delight. It’s, truth be told, probably also that he’s been incredibly aroused for a long time and this is the first time anyone’s touched his dick. It’s overwhelming and unbearable, and Han is on fire.
“I’ll get around to it,” Shara says, “but you know, if you can just get it started for me, honey, be a doll?”
Kes grumbles, low and resonant, teeth on the back of Han’s trapezius muscle, hand jacking his dick firm and slow— and Kes’s dick, hard and hot, trapped against the back of Han’s thigh— Han has to swallow, hard, not to drool as he thinks about Kes fucking him.
Leia and Shara are unpacking the shoulder bag, and Shara is holding the dildo in her hands, looking at it. Kes makes an interested little noise. “Yeah, buddy,” Han says, mustering a little coherence, “it’s super hot.”
“I don’t care who,” Kes says, “but I want Shara to fuck somebody with that.”
“Me,” Leia says. “Please?”
Kes mutters something in fervent Iberican against Han’s neck. “Yeah you said it, buddy,” Han says.
“Do you call people buddy in bed a lot?” Kes wonders, and then bites Han’s neck again before he can answer. Han shudders and whines; his dick is leaking and he might be dying, skating along an edge of being as turned on as he’s ever been in his entire life.
“He’s so close,” Leia says, eyeing him.
“Don’t worry,” Kes says. “If I’m not coming, he’s not coming. I got this. You want him saved for you?”
“I want so many things,” Leia says, and she’s so pretty, face and breasts flushed, eyes glittering.
“He won’t do you justice,” Shara says. “I will.” And she pulls on the harness for the dildo, with some help from Leia, and gets it settled.
Kes groans. “Look how fucking hot she is,” he says, his voice so low it’s almost a growl, resonating right through Han’s body.
The dildo is bright red, and stands out from Shara’s lithe body attractively. “It turns on,” Leia says, and puts her hand down between it and Shara’s body to find the switch.
It springs to life with a soft hum, and Shara says, “oh wow,” and Leia laughs.
“It’s a really nice one,” she says. “Lando spared no expense.”
“Did you and he ever—“ Shara says.
Leia shakes her head and laughs again. “Han,” she said. “He and Han—“
“Oh,” Shara says, “did you get to watch?”
“No,” Leia answers, regretfully— what?— “but can you imagine? They were young, apparently.”
“Shit,” Shara says. Both women look at Han, and Kes grins against his neck, scratching with his stubble.
“What?” Han asks, too far-gone to be self-conscious but considering it anyway.
“That would be hot,” Shara says. “He’s an attractive man who seems like he’d know what was up, you know? Like, he’d do some hot shit. He kind of hit on me once, I was honored.”
“Really,” Kes says.
“I mean,” Shara says, and shrugs. “It was right after Endor, I was distracted because I didn’t know if you were alive, so I didn’t exactly respond in like, any way at all. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
“Aw, babe,” Kes says, amused, “you turned down Lando Calrissian to hang out with me?”
“Don’t be an ass,” Shara says, but she’s amused too. She shivers, suddenly, breasts jiggling distractingly. “Shit, this thing is— I figured the vibrating part was for you but it’s—“
“No,” Leia answers. “I mean, it is, but it’s for you too. I usually get off from it when I use it.”
“It’s,” Shara says, then reaches out for Leia. “Fuck, I gotta— let me—“
“Yes, please, fuck,” Leia says, and they go from sitting around laughing to almost-frantic kissing just like that.
Sometimes women get dicks strapped on and want to role-play that they’re men. Leia usually keeps that up for like, five seconds before getting distracted, and it’s both cute and hot and Han is genuinely into anything Leia does, it turns out, regardless of genitals or appendages or whatever. Shara doesn’t. She wastes no time on play, keeping her hands moving on and in Leia until she’s arranged on her back, open and ready and panting.
“Fuck me,” Leia says, too shaky for it to be a demand.
Kes says something deeply fervent. Han just nods.
Shara fits herself smoothly over and into Leia, and pushes in with what looks like practiced ease. She’s so competent and graceful, like she’s used this thing every day of her life, like she does this all the time. Leia groans, a big deep sound from such a small body.
“That’s it, baby,” Shara says approvingly, and starts fucking her in smooth little strokes, deep inside her and grinding knowingly. Leia is so aroused she’s already trembling, crying out at every thrust.
“Oh man,” Han says, “she really needed some dick.”
“I need it,” Leia agrees, clutching at Shara’s back; she’s close, thighs tight around Shara’s hips, eyes glazed and distant.
“Fuck,” Kes says, low and fervent, and he’s completely forgetting what his hands had been doing on Han; he’s sort of holding him, lax but taut, pressed against him and raptly attentive to what the two women are doing.
“Holy shit, this is good,” Shara says unsteadily, and her lithe body is already gleaming with sweat, slender but powerful muscles flexing as she moves in Leia. She’s braced up on her arms a little ways, not putting her weight on Leia, so Leia’s breasts are moving freely as she arches her back in pleasure, and so are Shara’s. They’re so beautiful, individually and together. Han could die here, looking at this, and it would be enough.
Kes remembers Han is there, and puts his mouth on his neck. “I never saw anything like this in real life before,” he says wonderingly. Leia shivers, crying out; she’s so close, she’s right on the edge. “Does,” Kes says, and Han tilts his head encouragingly. “Does she— do that to you?”
“Yeah,” Han says. “It’s— I mean, I don’t get to watch, but I promise, it’s really hot.”
“I don’t know if I would like that,” Kes says. “I don’t— I only tried with a guy really like one time and I didn’t get that far, and I never—“
“I mean,” Han says, “different things are good for different people, but I got a feeling anything Shara did to you would be pretty great. You trust her, right?”
“Yeah,” Kes says. “Look at her. She’s good at that.”
“I don’t get the feeling there’s much she’s not good at,” Han says, and Kes laughs and kisses his shoulder.
“So you’ve met her, then,” he says.
Leia cries out sharply, shuddering, and Shara’s body shakes as well, her breath catching. “Fuck,” Leia pants, clutching at Shara’s hips, “fuck,” and she’s clearly coming, hard, eyes rolling back, crying out wordlessly.
“Holy shit,” Shara says, and a shudder goes through her as well, harder this time, her breath stuttering. She leans down and kisses Leia, who kisses her back, panting for breath and clutching at her, still shuddering. “Oh, baby girl, are you still coming?”
Leia cries out wordlessly again, shaking. She is, clearly, either still coming or coming again, eyes staring sightlessly up.
“It’s a waste that I can’t feel anything inside you,” Shara says. “Oh, my sweet baby— listen, Kes, get over here and get inside her. If it’s not enough, baby,” she says to Leia, “I’ll come back and keep going, but I want to fuck your husband with this thing, I think he needs it.”
Kes bites down on Han’s shoulder, and mutters something in Iberican. “I don’t know how long I can last,” he says, but he gives Han’s dick a last friendly stroke before he lets go of him. He also gives Han a questioning look, which Han appreciates; he nods. Go on, fuck my wife; she clearly needs it. It’s only fair if your wife’s fucking me.
“I trust you,” Shara says. “Now get over here, I don’t want her empty. Hold on, baby,” and she pulls out, and Leia shudders and gives a guttural moan. She’s so far gone, Han’s not sure she even knows whose cock it is, as Kes obediently slides into her, but she cries out and writhes as she takes him in, and Han catches a glimmer of awareness as she looks up in delight.
“Fuck me,” she says, breathless, “oh, Kes, fuck me.”
They’re pretty together, and Han watches for a moment as Kes steadies her, sliding one arm under her shoulder to hold her small body gently in position. He cradles the back of her neck in his hand, and looks tenderly down at her.
“Okay,” he says, and sets to fucking her hard and deep with no further preamble. She gives a sharp cry and angles her hips up to take him, and in no time she’s screaming, so hoarse she’s voiceless, body spasming in orgasm again.
“Fuck,” Shara says fervently. She’s come around behind Han, where Kes was. “My husband’s really pretty when he fucks.”
“He sure is,” Han says. Kes eases his pace, and grits his teeth, strain showing in his face.
“Can I come yet?” he asks Shara.
“No,” she says, “I still want you to save it for me.”
“Fuck,” Kes says, “holy fuck, I, Shara—“
“I know you can do it,” she says.
“Stars,” Kes says, and Leia shudders violently. She’s a mess, she’s so overstimulated she’s setting herself off. Han’s never seen her like this, but he can guess that she has to be so hot and tight and wet inside by now, slick and shivering and clenching, he can’t imagine how Kes hasn’t shot his load yet.
Shara has the bottle of lube from Leia’s shoulder bag. “I didn’t need this for Leia,” she said, “but I’m gonna use it on you.”
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Han asks. “I mean, specifically?”
Shara just cocks an eyebrow at him, and slides a slick finger down between his asscheeks.
“Never ask that,” Kes says, voice gravelly with strain. Leia’s making broken little noises, and he’s mostly stopped moving, but he hasn’t pulled out yet. He gives a couple little twitches of his hips and Leia moans helplessly and comes again, toes curling and eyes rolling back. Kes goes somewhat cross-eyed as he tries to keep control.
It’s Han’s turn to resume making embarrassing noises as Shara quite competently opens him up. She pushes him onto his hands and knees, next to Leia, and long before he thinks he’s ready, she’s already working the dildo into him. But she’s right, it’s good, he’s good, it’s in him before he has time to worry about it, and then he can’t think of anything else.
“I can’t,” Kes says, sounding almost distressed, and Leia comes back to herself enough to speak.
“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s— oh— go slow— I’m done, I can’t— anymore— I— oh!”
He pulls out slowly and she stops talking and comes again from the long slow slide of it, and he grits his teeth and stays still. “Fuck,” she gasps, “oh— fuck— I can’t—“
“Are you really done, baby?” Shara asks her. “Because you know I can still—“
“I’m done,” Leia pants. “I need— hngh—“ She shudders through an aftershock as Kes manages to get his dick out of her.
“What do you need?” Kes asks, sitting back on his heels, winded and— Han’s mouth goes dry, Kes’s cock is so hard and so purple and all slick with Leia’s wetness, and he wants to taste it. It would be so good. Shara’s moving in him, hard and perfect, and he wants it from both ends, he wants— he can’t stop staring.
He’s making noises, but they’re not words. “Baby,” Leia says, laughing sweetly, “look at you, you’re so good at getting fucked.”
“Fuck,” Han manages.
“He wants Kes’s cock,” she says, rolling over onto an elbow and shivering again. She’ll be having aftershocks for a good long while, her nervous system is so overstimulated. “That’s what started all this.”
“He’s got one in him already,” Shara says, a little wounded.
“So good,” Han manages to say. “Fuck me. Please.”
“He wants to suck him off,” Leia says. Bless her, Han thinks, because he was never going to manage to explain it himself. “One in each end. I can’t do it for him but I know he’s into that.”
“I can’t,” Kes says, plaintive and breathless. “Shara, I can’t— I’m going to die.”
“You can do it,” Shara says.
“I can’t,” he protests.
“Please,” Leia says.
“I’ll help you,” Shara says. “Come here, please.”
Kes bites his lip, then shuffles over, and Han eagerly pulls him into position, too desperate to use any words. Shara’s almost— she’s in a good angle, she’s giving him something pretty good here, but he needs— Kes is so gorgeous, so perfect, so hard and hot and he tastes of Leia and he’s so close, he’s so close.
“I got you, baby,” Shara says, and leans in, breasts brushing against Han’s back. She’s kissing Kes over Han’s shoulder while Han sucks Kes’s cock and she fucks his ass. And that’s— oh fuck— she’s— hitting him just right, now, he’s— so full of her and it’s lighting him up inside.
“Shara,” Kes says, high and desperate, and Han has swallowed him to the hilt, cutting off his own air supply, he’s dizzy and right on the edge, he’s never been fucked like this, filled up and used and everything is full of sparks.
“It’s okay,” Shara says, “it’s okay, you can come, Kes, it’s okay—“
Kes lets go with a shudder and a sob, thrusting hard into Han’s throat, and sparks shoot up Han’s spine and he’s coming too, and it’s always so much more intense, full-body intense, throbbing through all his limbs and his whole torso, when he comes from prostate stimulation instead of his dick, and so he comes approximately forever, Kes’s spend bitter and thick and fucking perfect on the back of his tongue, and Shara keeping up the pressure inside him just right, murmuring to both of them, and she’s got a hand on the back of Han’s neck as he comes to himself with Kes’s dick still in his mouth, and Kes’s whole body is still twitching under him.
And, maybe best of all, Leia is lying next to him, sparkling and satisfied and breathing hard. “Holy shit, that was hot,” she says.