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Leather and lace

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Both of them had topics that they just let each other ramble on about until they were done. They fully knew the other person sometimes didn't care or understand as much as to offer more than the occasional sounds of assent or sympathy, and that was okay. Leia's was politics; Han's, starships. If they really needed the other's attention and opinion, they let the other know in advance but, sometimes, they just needed a good rant.

That was the kind of situation Leia found herself in currently. They were standing in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon , at the final leg of a tour of the ship (unnecessary, in her opinion), during which Han had pointed out to her all of the new equipment he had recently installed to soup up his “baby”.

Leia knew the basics of ship maintenance; she was a good pilot and enjoyed the occasional, short high-speed race when she needed to inject some adrenaline into her system, but for her, all vehicles were still mostly a tool to get her from point A to point B.

For Han, flying was like walking, and taking care of the Falcon was more important than taking care of himself sometimes. Smuggling had been sort of a forced career choice; she knew he didn’t miss the part of working for mafia bosses who were as likely to take him under their wing as to put a bounty on him, or of risking capture by the Empire. But he had been good at it (generally). The shipping company he now co-owned with Chewie was thriving, and it fulfilled most of his job requirement checkboxes. Leia knew he still missed the adrenaline of his old life, though, if absolutely nothing else.

When he’d told her he had been invited to fly in a series of races for charity, Leia also knew he had to say yes.

‘... and to compensate for the gravimetric charge imbalance of the magnetic field above Unalo, I’ll just re-route power through the hyperwave pulse initiator,’ Han was saying, patting a switch on the aft bulkhead that might or might not have been there before, Leia couldn’t be sure. She nodded even though his technical explanations (gushing, more like) had lost her long ago.

She was thinking instead of the Dragon Void Run, the race Han had agreed to join in as a covert mission for the Alliance. It was this event, along with his famed flight prowess in battle, what had made Han a coveted asset for this year’s Seven Suns Spin. There had been so many risks at play in having Han run the Dragon Void that, even though they had been clashing more than usual at the time, Leia had been scared for him as she watched the race from the rebel base on Arda-1.

Space racing was dangerous, which made its participants admirable. Han already had his admirers from all over the galaxy; this would make him even more desirable. She felt a tingling in her lower abdomen that was the opposite of jealousy. That feeling was the knowledge that it didn’t matter how many fans fell all over Han: he was unequivocally hers , and she was the one he would come back to, and it was her who could make him come undone, as much he could do it to her.

He had been working late the day before and dragged her out of bed early that morning even though they tended to sleep in on weekends. If it wasn't for the caf and hotcakes he'd made for her, she wouldn't have been awake enough for this. He was still fresh from a shower, hair fluffy and shiny, cheeks smelling of aftershave. His hands occasionally flexed and tugged at the leather gloves he used for driving and flying, which he'd left on. She had given him those for a birthday, made of authentic nerf-hide leather.

She suddenly felt overwhelmed with longing in advance for his upcoming absence. Without a second thought, Leia pushed herself off the nav seat against which she had been reclined and headed out of the cockpit. Big viewport in a busy hangar , she thought.

‘Hey, where are you going?’ she heard Han's confused voice trailing after her, followed seconds later by his footsteps. The cockpit's hatch whooshed closed by the time she reached the main hold, and Leia turned around to face her husband, who was looking disgruntled. ‘You could just tell me if you were bored.’

Leia waved a hand and circled him until his back was against the Dejarik table. ‘That wasn't my problem,’ she said, tilting her face up as she stepped closer. She deftly unbuttoned his shirt, eyes focused on the task. Han chuckled and his chest vibrated under her hands. ‘So what was your problem? All that talked turned you on?’

‘You turned me on,’ Leia replied, hands sliding over his chest as she leaned in and pressed open-mouthed kisses on his warm skin.

Han sighed exaggeratedly. ‘It's a curse, bein’ this handsome.’

Leia paused to roll her eyes at him. ‘Oh, shut up,’ she said, and he obliged by bowing his head and kissing her on the mouth, one of his leather-covered hands touching her neck and sliding down her throat to the gap of her blouse. The leather was smooth and cool on her skin as fingers pushed her bra aside and glided over her nipple. She gasped into his mouth and felt him grin.

‘You like that?’

Leia hummed her assent but, reaching for his hands, she pulled them away. Her eyes fixed on his as if she was putting him into a trance; her fingers unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants. Surprise flicked briefly across Han's face before his hands gripped the table behind him in preparation. Stooping down, she kissed his stomach, letting her breath tickle his skin as she followed the trail of hair that disappeared into his underpants with her fingernails, feeling him shiver nearly imperceptibly.

After pulling his clothes down to his ankles, she kneeled in front of him and curled her hand around his cock, rubbing her hand along the length of it until she felt him harden. While her fingers stroke the head, she looked straight up at him and licked him, watching him shudder and groan.

‘Tell me what d'I do to get this?’ he asked hoarsely, one hand coming down to rest on her neck.

‘I thought I'd give you something for luck,’ she said, grinning before taking him in her mouth.

For her, it wasn't the pleasure of blowing him what made her do that, although she had become good enough that it was bearable. The pleasure was in knowing she could render him speechless, vulnerable, that she could turn his muscles to jelly and make him see stars, that he was willingly powerless in her hands---or mouth. Just the way she felt about him when he went down on her.

His hand stroked her neck, fingers drawing circles on her skin as she licked and rubbed and scraped her teeth ever-so-delicately against him. He began to knead her muscles, dragging leather tips along the curve of her neck, sinking on the hair behind her ear, and although her full attention was necessarily on her task, Leia couldn't help but groan into him, which made him let out a gasping sort of chuckle.

‘That good?’ Han asked, but Leia ignored him. Eyes closed, she focused on the mechanics of her mouth and hand, her other hand caressing a path from his hip to his buttocks, listening to his groans and his calls of go on , right there and kriff, Leia until he gave a warning, and a second later he was coming in her mouth with a hoarse yelp.

Leia swallowed and slowly stood up, looking intently at Han with a small smile. He was half slumped back over the table, hands gripping the edge so hard his knuckles were white, panting with his eyelids shut. She gave him a couple of seconds before pulling his pants up, which he took from her halfway to finish the work.

Her forehead touched his chest and she stayed there, feeling the rise and fall, but Han had other plans. Leaning down, he bunched her skirt up at her waist and lifted one of her legs until her foot was on the table. Leia smirked up at him and he winked. Reciprocity .

Han began to unbutton his gloves; at once, she said, ‘Don’t.’

He gave her a look that was a mix of confusion and amusement. ‘Seriously?’

Leia shrugged. ‘If you don’t mind.’

He didn’t. His free hand clutched her ankle and dragged its way up her leg heavily, the leather rubbing her skin. It stroke the curves of her bottom and her hip before sliding to her inner thigh. His touch was like a fluttering along the edges of her lacy underwear, teasing, until he pressed a knuckle and began to move.

‘Inside, hotshot,’ Leia breathed out, one hand clutching his shoulder as the other held his open shirt on a fist.

‘Will you ever be patient?’ Han chided.

The leather felt better than she would have expected. Dirty, she thought, when his hand slipped under her underwear, cupping her before trailing three fingers between and around her lips. Leia leaned heavily into Han, chest heaving against his, and bit his bicep lightly as she ground herself against his hand.

‘I’m never washin’ these gloves,’ she heard him growl into her hair. She could picture the leather, dark at the fingertips with the wetness she felt between her legs. She imagined them days from now, long dry, pressed against her husband’s nose as he lay on his bunk missing her.

‘I hope so,’ Leia gasped, riding his hand harder as his thumb both increased and alleviated the ache of her swollen clit.

‘Oh Han,’ she let out in a strangled, high-pitched voice as her body contracted, nails digging into his flesh, and she let her orgasm take over.

Han held her as she recovered, and when she started to pull back, he kissed her knee and gently set her leg down, lowering her skirt.

‘I take it you’re done with ship talk?’ he asked, finally taking off his gloves and dropping them on the table.

‘I’ve had enough for today, if you don’t mind.’

He smiled as he buttoned up his shirt. ‘You know, what you just did is the best way to get me to stop, sweetheart.’

Leia grabbed his hand and brought it to her lips to press a kiss on the inside of his wrist. He flipped it to brush his fingers against her cheek.

‘I’m proud of you Han, and happy about this opportunity,’ Leia began. ‘But---don’t take any unnecessary risks. Please.’

‘Hey. It’s just one race, Leia, I’ll be fine,’ he answered, but she shook her head.

‘It won’t be. It shouldn’t be, if you end up enjoying it,’ she said sincerely.

Han seemed uncertain, but he nodded. ‘I promise, I’ll be careful. Or---well, you know me. Won’t get myself killed. Gotta come back.’

‘Thank you.’ Leia let out a breath and brushed some stray hairs behind her ear before patting his butt. ‘Let’s go get something to eat.’