Leia had weighed all of her options and had reached the only conclusion possible.
She was going to murder Han Solo.
As she marched through the halls of the Hoth base, she considered the best way to do it. As cold as it was, she could always just have him chucked out the blast doors come nightfall. Chewbacca might try to fight for him though, and she didn't want anyone else to get hurt.
So that was probably out.
Damn. And Luke would be upset. So maybe she couldn't murder him after all. She'd just have to settle for yelling at him. Again.
The Falcon sat in its usual berth in the hangar, taking up necessary space while Han and Chewbacca tried—again—to do repairs. Which was what had caused the problem in the first place.
Pilots and deck officers scrambled to get out of Leia's way as she approached the Falcon. Chewbacca saw her coming and found that he needed something over on the other side of the hangar. Han was nowhere to be seen on the outside, which meant he was probably lurking around in the cabin somewhere.
Leia's boots clattered up the gangplank. "Han?"
"In here, Princess." His voice came from the cockpit. She'd grown up with people calling her 'princess', people still called her 'princess', and Han Solo was the only man who could make it sound like an insult.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Possibly not the most diplomatic first words Leia could have found, but the sight of Han kicked back in the cockpit with his feet on the co-pilot's chair infuriated her.
"Nice to see you too, Your Worship. My day's just great, thanks for asking." He dropped his feet to the floor and turned to face her. "What I think I'm doing is trying to figure out how to reroute the hydraulics in the cooling system so the next time we go through atmo I don't have to worry about little things like catching fire."
Leia sniffed. "Looked like you were taking a nap to me."
"Appearances can be deceiving." He stood up, and she wished he hadn't, because now she had to look up at him. "Were you looking for me?"
"Yes. I heard that you've been co-opting diagnostics time from the X-wing pilots, again. Han, we talked about that. You have to stop. The X-wings have to be our first priority. We don't have many as it is, and if one of them's grounded then—"
"You didn't bother to see whose time I co-opted, did you, Highness." Han looked smug, wearing that little smirk that tilted up one corner of his stupidly attractive mouth. He probably thought it made him look rakishly handsome or something.
Stars, she hated him. (That wasn't remotely true. But she liked to believe that she did.)
"I didn't ask because it doesn't matter. You can't take resources from our pilots, Han." She knew though, what he was going to say next. And that she had already lost.
"It was Luke's time. And you know as well as I do, half the time he doesn't need a diagnostic computer to tell him if something's wrong with his ship. "
Leia sighed, because of course, Han was right.
"Hell, he's better at figuring out the Falcon than I am. Sometimes." Han looked at her for a moment, serious. "You know I'd never let him take a risk when it comes to his ship."
Leia met his eyes, then nodded. "I know." When Luke had first confessed to her that he and Han had slept together, she'd groaned and threatened to smother Luke with a pillow. She'd had plans to keep him in her quarters overnight, so it wasn't entirely an idle threat. He'd given her such a hurt look she'd relented and kissed him. The subject of Han didn't come up again for a long time after that.
"Why are you blushing, Princess?" A grin spread across Han's face.
"I'm not." She was. Damn it.
"What are you thinking about?"
And of course, while he was standing there looking at her like that, her thoughts refused to be corralled. She loved Luke. What they had, and how he made her feel—no one else matched that. Which made it doubly infuriating to be so drawn to this bantha-brain standing in front of her. When Luke had told her about him and Han, her first reaction had been irritation, true; but her second reaction had been what I wouldn't give to have watched that. Her face flushed hotter.
"Hmm? What's going on inside your head?" Han leaned closer.
"Nothing." Her voice was breathier than she'd like. Han was very very close. And Leia couldn't stop wondering what he looked like kissing Luke.
"That's an awful lot of nothin' that's got you so worked up."
"I'm not worked up," she protested, then realized—too late—that her eyes were glued to his lips. Which were coming closer to hers.
She stopped wondering what he looked like kissing Luke and wondered what he'd look like kissing her instead.
As far as terrible ideas went, this was pretty high on the list. Leia had spent the first several years with the Alliance avoiding any appearance of personal entanglements or impropriety and here she was, halfway in love with arguably the most well-known man in the Alliance (and she knew the gossip had already started), and seriously considering sleeping with his best friend.
Han paused, his eyes moving over her face as if trying to gauge her thoughts. There was an invisible thread pulling tight between them, pulling them closer together, but slowly, with plenty of resistance on both sides. When the distance between them finally closed, it was slow, careful. The way you'd handle a dangerous explosive.
Han's lips touched hers and something uncoiled deep inside her, a long-held tension easing away. He was so ridiculously tall, he practically had to bend in half to reach her, and her on her toes. His mouth was hungry against hers, but holding back—that same cautiousness she felt. Like both of them were afraid what would happen if they let go.
The parted, and it was like pulling magnets apart—they came back together with their foreheads touching.
"Luke—" Han started.
"He knows." Leia hadn't talked to him about it, but she hadn't needed to. She knew the same way she knew everything about him—she just did, like breathing, like knowing her own mind.
"I know he knows, but—"
"Shut up, hotshot." Leia pulled him back down to her and this time she didn't hold back. Han groaned against her mouth and nearly lifted her off her feet. He fell back into the pilot's seat, taking her with him. She wound up straddling him, holding his head between her palms as she chased after his tongue with hers, biting at his lips until he shivered.
Want flared deep within her, dangerous and threatening to be all-consuming. Han's body was taut beneath hers, tension in his thighs and hips as he strained out of the seat to press against her. He covered her hands with his own, peeling them away from his face and tugging her hands around behind her back, holding them there. As he kissed her, she could feel him grinning, as if he knew a secret. Leia tried to pull free, but his grip tightened, irritating her.
She broke the kiss. "Let go."
He did, but looked puzzled. "Easy, Highness, I thought you liked that sort of thing."
"What would ever make you think—" Leia scowled. Luke. "He told you about that?"
"Naw, Luke would never." A slow grin crept over Han's face. "But it wasn't hard to figure out which end of that game he likes to play, so I just did the math from there."
Leia wanted to strangle them both. Something about the idea of Luke taking the same care, the same control over Han as he sometimes did with her—it burned unpleasantly in her gut, like bad whiskey. "Listen. We need to get something straight. That does not happen between you and me, do you understand?" She pinned his hands to the armrests of the seat and looked him in the eye. "I don't—that's not—" She let out her breath in a frustrated huff. "That's not a side of me I share."
"I get it. Luke's special." Han's eyes drifted down to where Leia had him pinned. "I don't mind sharing a few things though."
It took Leia a second to catch on, to notice the shallow sharp way he was breathing, the way he tested her grip once or twice. She raised an eyebrow at him, her pulse leaping in her throat. "I thought you were just playing a game."
"I like games."
Leia tightened her hands then leaned down toward him again. She watched his face as she got closer, almost leaning in for a kiss then backing away before he could reach her. "Not a very good game. You're stronger than me. You're just playing along."
"You can make up the rules here, sweetheart. Did you have something else in mind?"
She hadn't really, until right then. "Stay here." She slid off his lap and headed back to one of the work areas. It didn't take her long to find what she needed. Carrying cargo meant the Falcon had a nearly endless supply of things with which to secure it. It only made sense they could secure the captain as well.
Han was probably better at tying knots than she was, but she did a decent job of it, and when she was done, he was flushed and a little wide-eyed.
"You better hope your first mate stays away, because if I hear him, I'm leaving you here just like this," Leia teased.
"Wouldn't be the first time he's found me tied up somewhere on the ship."
"I… am not even going to ask for details."
Han just grinned. "Probably not as much fun as you're thinking." He tilted his head up to her, his eyes softening and voice lowering. "In fact, I can promise this is the first time I've wanted to be tied up on my own ship."
Something about his voice, low and suddenly smoky, curled around the base of her spine. Leia kissed him before she meant to, reaching down to pull his shirt free of his pants, suddenly wanting the feel of his skin beneath her hands. Han squirmed, but otherwise submitted, his head dropping back when she tweaked one of his nipples. The long line of his throat was too tempting. She leaned in and dragged her tongue along the length of it, the salt of his skin sparking in her mouth. He was warm beneath her hands and her mouth, and she quickly unbuttoned his shirt, wanting to feel more of that warmth.
Han arched beneath her, and she didn't miss the sneaky way he rubbed his hips against hers, making sure she felt how hard he was. That want rushed through her again, flaring urgently. Maybe another time she could take things slow with him, but not this time. Leia dragged her palm over the full shape of his cock, teasing him through his pants. His mouth opened and he pulled in a slow, deep breath.
"You don't waste any time," he gasped.
"I know what I want."
Han groaned again. "Okay. Yes."
Leia slid off his lap and paused. Was she really going to do this? Her body was absolutely on fire—part of it was him, and part of it was that they were in a ship standing open in the middle of the hangar. They were up too high for anyone to see through the transparisteel of the cockpit, but anyone could just wander onto the Falcon, and if they did…
Shivering, she was pulling down her pants before she could finish the thought. She was too impatient to do more than yank off one boot, enough to free at least one leg from her pants entirely. Han stared at her until she cupped his chin and brought his face back to hers, kissing him while she unfastened his pants as well.
She straddled him again while he gasped her name, sitting just inches from where he jutted up from his pants. As she leaned in to kiss him again, he murmured, "I want to see," so instead she sat back, wrapping one hand around him and using the other to tease herself. There was no real need for it. She was already every bit as ready as he was, but Han's wide-eyed stare as he focused on her hands thrilled down her spine.
The temptation was strong to do nothing more than this, to stroke him and to stroke herself while he watched, open-mouthed and gasping. There was nothing he could do it about it if that's what she chose. She let her head fall back as her eyes closed, focusing on the pleasure building deep inside her. Han was hot and hard and damp in her hand, slick where she ran her thumb over the head of him.
She could torment him like this. She could. She wanted to. But at the same time, she ached. Her fingers weren't what she was craving. She had almost made up her mind when Han whimpered.
"Leia, please."
"Please what?" She smiled, tilting her head down to look at him. He was still transfixed by her hands. "Look at me."
He tore his eyes away, lifting them to hers. "I need you. Please."
For all their bickering and one-upping each other, she never expected that she'd hear him beg, and the combined surge of triumph and hunger threatened to swamp her thoughts entirely. "Are you begging me, Han?"
"Yes. Yes, damn it. I am."
She pushed up on her knees, letting him go. "You realize I'm never going to let you forget this."
He laughed shakily, his bound hands balling into fists. "I'm not likely to forget."
Leia closed her eyes as she took him deep, deep into her, biting her lips to keep from crying out.
"Look at me. Please." Han's voice was soft, oddly gentle.
She opened her eyes to find him staring at her like one of the wonders of the galaxy and oh no, no, that wasn't part of this, wasn't supposed to be, but her chest tightened just the same. She kissed him to avoid the look in his eyes, rocking her hips against his in a steady, even rhythm.
Neither of them lasted very long. The fire inside her flared hot and fast, leaving her clutching his shoulders as her body shook with the power of her orgasm. As he started to follow, she heard the cry starting from him, and muffled it with a kiss. Great, another one without any sense of discretion. Between him and Luke, this wasn't going to stay secret for long. For all that though, she couldn't resist smiling to herself a little.
They kissed each other back to the here and now, and Leia slowly eased off him to get re-dressed. It was warmer in the Falcon than it was in the rest of the base, but it was still cold. Han looked sated and a little ridiculous, still tied to his captain's chair with his pants undone. Leia giggled. "I should leave you like this."
"Aw, come on. Don't even joke."
She pulled on her boot and stood up, grinning. "You said Chewie'd found you tied up before."
"Yeah, but not—not like this, okay?"
Leia took a few steps toward the cockpit door before laughing and relenting. She untied his hands and he stood, buttoning and retucking his shirt and closing his pants.
"C'mere." He pulled her into his arms and swooped down to kiss her. "See, I'm not so bad, am I?"
He wasn't bad at all, in fact her legs were still quivering, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "Not bad," she teased. "That was a pretty solid performance, all things considered."
"All things—why you—" He grabbed for her and she darted away, laughing as she fled.
In ten minutes, he'd probably do something to make her want to kill him again, but for now, maybe things had changed between them. A little.