Han meets Luke when he's twenty-one and Luke's just a kid. He says I'm nineteen, and Han says That's not what I meant. The kid's never seen war, doesn't know what death smells like. For a minute, Han intends to keep it that way.
Luke shoots out the Death Star - takes it down all by himself. Han loses himself for a moment, he's the first one to reach Luke when he lands and Han hugs him, holds him like he hadn't been afraid for a second and Luke grips back, tight and sure and there. Han steps away, grinning.
That night, he remembers.
Han thinks, sometimes, that he could be better than who he is. But he isn't, so he doesn't dwell on the thought for too long. He's never believed in dying for something bigger than himself. He doesn't even really believe that an idea is stronger than a person. Leia knows that's how he thinks - she's too smart not to know that. Luke hopes that he can change how Han thinks - Luke's too naive to know he won't.
Luke cares about everyone. He cares about every little story and every little creature. He cares about Han, too. It's intoxicating. For the longest time he couldn't tell who was loyal and who wasn't and now he knows he's got Luke, always. He's not good at reading people, he's even worse at empathy, but he knows that if Leia leaves, if Chewie leaves, Luke won't.
Luke makes Han tea. They sit together, on the bridge, staring at the darkness between far-flung stars.
He doesn't know when it starts to become a pain between his ribs and lungs, he just knows that whenever he thinks Luke it's a little harder to breathe. It's like a rock, wedged in between, but it only hurts when he moves.
He's trying not to think when he starts to think what happens when this is over? because one thing's for sure - he cannot lose Luke. And he might. There have been so many close calls. That's not even the part that terrifies him. There have been so many close calls and if they make it through this, in the end, Luke might look at him and say okay, it's over, goodbye. Han could stand death, he's familiar with death and grief, but Luke not wanting him is too much to bear.
Luke drapes a blanket around Han's shoulders and sits next to him on the log. They don't talk, just sit there and listen to the crackle of the fire.
It's quiet on the ship when Leia shows up in his room. He just looks at her when she invites herself in and sits on his bed.
"You want him," she says, and her eyes never meet his.
"I don't know," he whispers, even though his body goes yes.
He loses his hand.
Han doesn't sleep peacefully for weeks.
It's not blind - he wishes it was. Luke can be angry and selfish and mean, sometimes he says things without thinking. He's not endlessly kind, but he's endlessly thoughtful and caring and it makes Han want him more than he's ever wanted anything. Han wishes there was a way for him to lose interest, to stop himself from wanting so badly. But there isn't, so he tries not to dwell on it.
After Vader dies, Luke withdraws. It hurts, watching the silence. And Han keeps waiting, waiting for Luke to say "goodbye" and leave, but he doesn't. Leia does, though, and Luke breaks his quiet to say Stay. I could train you, but Leia won't. She's already thinking of the New Republic, of the lives she needs to change. She asks Chewie to go with her for a short while. He does.
They stay on the ground, craning their necks long after her ship has disappeared, imagining they can still follow the trail of smoke in the sky.
Luke loses his quiet, sheds it like an old skin, and says I've never been to Naboo, and Han says Neither have I.
They don't leave the forest moon of Endor even though they both say they want to. Han knows how it feels when he's hiding. It feels exactly like this, but usually, there's more fear. It feels like they're waiting for something to happen. Han thinks of when he was younger - when he was interested in Earth and how his mother taught him about metamorphosis. It there is something more to become of them, they're waiting for the change.
The Falcon is parked on the border of forest and meadow.
Han says, "Do you ever want to leave?"
And Luke says, "We will, when we're ready."
Han's not keeping track of time when Leia messages them. She talks about all the progress she's made on Coruscant and how it all seems to just fall together. Han's happy for her - for them - and all the progress and all the change. But when she cocks her head and says What've you been up to? He feels like there's nothing that could compare. Luke just smiles back at her, shuffles closer to Han and says I'm just enjoying being alive, Leia.
In the end, he feels supremely stupid. He'd been thinking that he could beat it, but hunger is a mortal thing, even if it's something he should be stronger than. He'd been thinking that he's gotten over it, but it claws out his eyes and makes him think Luke at the most inappropriate times. Han stares at Luke when he's not looking, when he's meditating in the meadow among the flowers. Han traces the straight line of his nose and the golden halo of his hair. He curls his fingers into his palm and he wants.
It's been a year since she left. That's what Han figures out the day he's told Lando died.
Luke smiles a lot more than he did four months ago. It rubs Han's hard edges away and for the first time, he thinks maybe it's okay for him to want Luke so badly. Anyone with eyes would. He thinks he's been lucky to have him like this so far, tucked away from the rest of the world and they're together all the time. He doesn't just love (love? His heart beats with terror when he thinks it) Luke for his looks - bright blue eyes, blond hair, crooked smile - he loves Luke when he spills water all over himself and when he plays with the Ewoks outside.
He wants Luke during the most mundane moments. Sitting across from him at dinner, walking through the forest, when they're fishing and at night, when Luke can't sleep and Han doesn't want him to be alone.
Luke shows up in Han's room one night, a blanket draped over his shoulders like a cape. Han sits up, question forming on his lips when Luke moves toward him, blanket slipping away as he climbs on top of Han.
They look at each other, half-bathed in darkness as the pain in between Han's lung and rib throbs. Luke looks at him, whispers Is this okay? and Han can't say anything but More than okay.
Luke kisses Han like he's been dying for it, like he's done it a thousand times before.
Han kisses Luke in all the places he's wanted to do it; in the cockpit, the meadow, against a tree in a forest, by the stream, in their rooms. Han wonders if maybe he was the naive one, believing he wouldn't change his mind for anyone. Here's an idea bigger than a person: love. Here's a cause Han would be willing to die for: Luke Skywalker. Before Luke, Han had never thought about something as abstract and unreachable as the future.
They go to Coruscant. Leia visits him in one of the rare moments he's alone.
"You've got him," she says, and this time, she smiles while looking him in the eye.
"I don't know," he grins, even though his heart pounds hard.
Han marries Luke when he's twenty-five and Luke's not a kid anymore. He says I always knew it'd be just us, and Han says I hoped. They both know war and death. If Han had a choice, he'd do it all over again, just to be here. Right now, where Luke is smiling at him and he wants and he has.