Disclaimers: *sigh* same old, same old. No, they're not mine. No, I'm not making any money off this. At one time I did hope and pray Lucas never sees this, however that opinion will not again manifest in the cockles of my heart until he gives us Episode 7: The Apology. And it better be a damn good one.
Author's note: Kinky? Oh, a tad. Yes, I know the physics of Wookiee and Ewok physiology make this particular scenario highly improbable, but do I look like I care? This was written a long time ago, so if anyone thinks this sounds familiar, that's most likely why.
Last warning: this has no redeeming value whatsoever - I wrote it totally off the cuff at 3 am on a dare. Major kinks ahead and I apologize to anyone that has actually done this if I've misrepresented the sublime joy of the activity in any way. :)
(A long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...)
"rrrRRRRRAAAAUUUGGGGHHHHH!"
"Hold still!"
The Wookiee whimpered, but tried to do as Han instructed.
"I swear, I canNOT believe this... Bad enough you leave fur and I don't want to know what else all over the inside of my ship-"
"Mnnrowph!"
"Yeah, I know what you said it was. Bad enough you do that, but the kinks, Chewie? You really need help."
Han hoped to any and all gods that nobody they knew would happen to come by and see this. His first mate -ugh, bad wording- copilot was on the bunk in his quarters on the Millenium Falcon. Han had seen and done a lot of things in his time, but he did not want to see any more of this. Not now, not ever. Not in any of the next ten thousand lifetimes.
Chewbacca was on his hands and knees, and a huge pipe that had once been part of an air duct was inserted in the Wookiee's ass. Han winced at the thought of just how Chewbacca and Wicket had managed that. Then, as if things weren't already twisted enough, Wicket had gone and crawled inside.
Han did NOT want to know why.
His own involvement had been yanked into this sordid little affair -ugh, more bad wording- when Chewbacca had called for him. Han had rushed there immediately, alarmed because first, his huge friend was yelling for help and second, that the cry was a mix of humiliation and panic. Apparently, now that Wicket was inside, he was refusing to come back out.
So that was how Han had ended up talking into a large tube stuck up his friend's ass, trying to convince a sadistic little Ewok to vacate.
"Come on, Wicket, I know you don't plan on staying there forever..."
A cheerful chittering came from deep inside the Wookiee, and Chewbacca gave a panicked roar. Han winced, he'd picked up a bit of Ewok from Leia and he didn't want to translate the rest of what the little guy just said.
"Look, it's hard enough for Chewie to pilot the Falcon. Having you up there isn't going to help."
Chewbacca growled. Wicket chittered again. "Nie-chee fe-wabba."
Han scowled. "I understood that, you little creep."
Another bright chirp, then the moist sounds of something moving. Chewbacca nearly levitated off the bunk. "MRORWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"
"Ah, calm down, you big baby. You wanted him in there doing exactly that in the first place!"
Chewie growled once more, the sound spiraling up to a high-pitched yelp as Wicket squirmed inside the Wookiee again.
"I'm warning you, Wicket. You come out of there, or... or I'm going to have to go after you."
The wide-eyed look of absolute horror Chewie gave him was almost worth this whole embarrassing scenario.
The Ewok chattered again. "Fre-muh li-ka-niba!"
The challenge and its tone pissed him off. "Why you little bastard..." the human growled as he straightened and look around for something to use.
The soft moans from his copilot could have been pain, or pleasure, or both - he'd gotten a pretty good idea of just how sick a Wookiee's mind really was. Han owed Chewie his life several times over. The Wookiee was his best partner and staunchest ally. No matter how much this scene made his hair curl, Han sure as hell didn't want to hurt his friend - although his eyes did pass over and come back to rest on Luke's lightsaber for a thoughtful moment.
Friendship was friendship, and while Han would lay down his life for Chewie without thinking twice, there was no way in hell he was going to stick his hand up the Wookiee's ass.
First thing was first, though. He needed to see what he was after.
"Chewie, stay here. I'll be right back." He couldn't resist a smirk as he added, "Don't go anywhere."
The snarl he got in answer needed no translation. Smartass.
Within minutes he was back at Chewbacca's side. He'd actually found the items he needed in less than a minute, but some sadistic part of him made him lean against the wall just outside Chewie's door to let his friend sweat things out for a bit. Listening to Chewbacca plead with Wicket was just what Han needed to armor his own psyche from what he was about to do.
"Alright, my little friend," he said as he went back inside, with a pair of very long tongs in one hand. Chewbacca's eyes boggled at the tool - easily the largest of the set they had - and Han summoned bright grin that floated on the surface of his mood like an oil slick on water. "Time for you to come on out."
Wicket chittered again and shifted inside. From Chewbacca's violent reaction, Han guessed the little guy was sitting right on top of whatever passed for a Wookiee prostate and bouncing.
What a sadistic little shit, he thought in reluctant admiration.
Much as he would prefer to leave Wicket in there to be, ahem, ushered out as nature took its course, there was no way he or the Wookiee were going to out-stubborn the Ewok. Han picked up the other object of his search, an odd little thing he'd picked up at a cantina in Anchorhead.
Kind of primitive, this 'lighter', but when you needed illumination or fire and needed it now, it was pretty handy.
He held the tiny contraption to the opening, flicking the lid open with his thumb. The return downstroke of that thumb spun the striker and the lighter obediently flared to life. Looking down the tunnel -he dared not think of it as what it really was- he could see Wicket's bright brown eyes twinkling at him. How the fuck did he manage to fit in there? Han was idly wondering when it happened.
The tiny flame - fire - ignited a small pocket of gas in the lower region of Chewbacca's bowels. Wicket yelped in surprise as a miniature blast of flame whooshed out of the tube.
Han fell over backwards as the fire licked his face, singeing off his eyebrows and part of the beard he'd started growing since Leia mentioned she liked 'scruffy'. His face was hot, partly from the first-degree burn he'd just gotten, but also from enraged humiliation.
He had no time to yell at Chewie, as an instant later, the first blast out of his copilot's ass managed to ignite a second, larger pocket of gas.
The Wookiee roared in pain, the sound joined by Wicket's own cry as the tiny Ewok was propelled out of the tube. Han had no chance to duck the fiery little bundle of fur that smacked him full in the face.
The crack of his nose breaking was echoed by the thwack of the back of his head against the floor. Chewbacca lauched himself forward, racing in a pained hobble to plunge his charred behind into the bowl of thick, sweet cream that Wicket had been snacking on before they'd begun. Han smelled was the sulfurous odor of burning hair and heard the faint hiss as clinging flames were extinguished. The last thing that occurred to the human before passing out was the recollection of how long barbecued-fur stink took to dissipate.
When Han finally came to, his face and nose were in agony and Chewbacca was quietly groaning. "Chewbacca," Han's voice was muffled and nasally. "I hope you know you owe me bigtime for this." He rolled over slowly to sit up, a disgusted kick sending the now-unneeded tongs spinning across the floor. He just had time to send the pipe after it when he heard footsteps coming down the hallway.
"Han? Oh my god, what happened?"
The captain of the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy looked up at his beloved through a mask of blood. He could see Chewbacca giving him a terrified look that was warring with terminal embarrassment. Oh yes, he knew Han would never let him live this down.
Chewie also knew that the man would never share the information. Something like this was just too good to give out. Yet.
Leia's arms were crossed over her chest as she looked at the battered face. "I could say it's improved your looks, but then I know you'd never tell me what started your fight."
Fight?
Oh, yes. Fight. Riiight!
Han would much rather Leia think he and his copilot were duking it out instead of... well, what really went on.
"Uh, Leia..." The words vibrated sickly behind the hand holding his nose. "If you don't mind, I'd rather, uh, not say."
The odd look she gave him boded for a long night of Leia's patented I-will-be-annoying-until-you-give-up method of interrogation. God, the woman could have given the late Darth Vader lessons in evil.
"Okay," she finally said. Too sweetly. He winced. "I'll leave you two men with whatever secrets you think you can keep. I was looking for Wicket anyway."
Funny, your Highnessness, so was I.
Han looked around quickly, wondering how to explain a well-done Ewok to Leia. His mouth closed as he looked around and found a complete absence of Wicket.
"Well?" she said expectantly, with a touch of exasperation that she had to state the obvious. Leia's impatience for those of lesser intellect when she didn't have to be a diplomat was legendary. "Have you seen him?" she asked.
"Uh, well, sort of... not exactly..." Han personally justified the hedging by telling himself that the split-second of airborne fireball did not constitute actually seeing the Ewok.
Chewie made a tiny sound to get his attention and Han glanced over to see his friend darting a look at an air vent in the floor under the bed. A few blacked strands of fur were caught on the edges.
"Well," Leia glanced around, wrinkling her nose at the smell. "I know he likes to play in the air ducts. I'll keep looking. Meanwhile, you two..." She pinned them both with a look, "Stay out of the freeze-dried chili. That stuff is a century old." Han could only bob his head weakly in agreement, wishing that she would just leave. Chewbacca looked only marginally less desperate.
With a final curious glance around, she turned on her heel and left. Han let his head fall forward to carefully cradle his face in his hands.
"Grrwwmmmmm."
Han glared at his friend between his fingers, following Chewbacca's longing look at the air duct. "Hell, no! I am NOT going after him again. You want your kinky little sex pet back? Go after him yourself."
Chewbacca gave him a look that could only be described as 'puppy eyes' and the quiver of that chin looked patently false.
Han wasn't going to give in. "No, not now, not ever. Not on your life and mine. Not in a million years. I'm going to have a hard enough time explaining this to Leia, let alone trying to get Luke to fix my nose without answering a hundred questions."
"Rrrrgh. Mrophrwowwww."
"What do you mean 'Luke probably already knows'?"
"Grrph. Phrrrwrorm."
"A 'disturbance in the Force'?" Han stared at his friend in disbelief at the utter insanity of it. "No, I don't think so, Chewie. You might hope he knows, but that's between you and Luke and Wicket, whereever the hell on my ship he is!" With that parting growl, Han stalked out of his friends quarters, seething to himself the entire way to the infirmary. Fuck this. Fuck Ewoks, fuck Wookiees, fuck the Force... just FUCK IT!
His angry mutterings were interrupted by a scratching sound above him. He stopped dead and looked up. The sound stopped instantly.
No. It's not Wicket. I refuse to believe fate is that cruel to me.
Shaking his head, he walked on, and just missed hearing the soft giggle of a perverted Ewok in the air duct.