Work Header


Work Text:

I love Luke Skywalker!” Wedge declares, throwing his arms out dramatically in a way that very nearly tips over the cup of jet juice perched on a crate beside him. “Okay, who's next?”

Tycho raises an eyebrow over the rim of his own drink. “You know, it's traditional to actually say that you've chosen 'truth' over 'dare' and then wait for the person to ask a question rather than just blurting something out.”

“And it's generally something the entire group doesn't already know,” Wes adds, enunciating every word slowly and carefully. Whether it's because his own inebriation is making it hard to speak clearly or he thinks Wedge's makes it hard for him to understand is anyone's guess.

Wedge crosses his arms and pouts, jostling his cup again. “Fine. Just gimme a dare then.”

Tycho, Wes, and Hobbie exchange looks, considering. Suddenly, Wes throws up a hand. “Oh, oh, I've got this! I know it's your turn, Tych, but trust me, it's good!”

Tycho gives him a go ahead gesture, and Wes turns to Wedge, an utterly evil grin spreading across his face. If Wedge were even a little bit sober, he would be very worried. As is, he simply puts his game face on and says, “Hit me.”

“Ask him to marry you!” Wes exclaims. “Go right over there right now and get down on one knee and ask Luke to marry you!”

Tycho's and Hobbie's eyes both go wide as they look to Wedge to gauge his reaction.

Wedge shrugs, suffused with warmth and confidence and not a single question over whether or not he actually wants to spend his life with Luke. “Fine.” He stands, wobbles, rights himself, and marches off.

The others scramble after him as quickly as they can, peering around the edge of Tycho's X-wing as they watch Wedge approach the place Luke is sitting keeping the night watch over the hanger. They can't hear what's being said from this distance, but they can clearly see the drunken swagger in Wedge's step. Wes titters, and the others quickly shush him.

Wedge rests his hands on the desk Luke sits behind, leans in to say something. Luke replies, clearly amused at his boyfriend's slurred speech. Then Wedge kneels messily.

“Gods, he's actually doing it!” Hobbie whisper-yells, whacking Wes on the arm. The three lean in further, straining to hear.

Luke is looking down at Wedge, head tilted quizzically. Though they can't see Wedge's face anymore, it's clear when he says the words: Luke's face goes through a myriad of emotions rapidly: surprise, confusion – for a second, want – then finally comprehension.

He stands, eyes instantly landing on Tycho, Hobbie, and Wes's hiding place. “I'm going to kill all of you,” he says, and his quiet, calm voice rings across the hanger.

The last thing the three of them see before they take off laughing and shouting as they flee is Luke helping Wedge to his feet and into an affectionate kiss.