A/N: Cloud City angst with smut with fluff. Please be warned, the smut isn't very explicit but it's there; if it's not your thing, skip it. Many thanks to alderaanallday for the corrections! If you liked this, please leave a comment as brief or as long as you'd like, it means a lot!

Prompted by this line:

You in the moonlight, with your sleepy eyes, could you ever love a man like me? - Leather and Lace

Han woke up not knowing when he had fallen asleep, if he had fallen asleep at all. Maybe he had just closed his eyes for a second and imagined he had fallen asleep. His brain didn't seem to care about how exhausted he was or the fact that he was set for an early start the next day, as Chewie and he were determined to oversee the reparations on the Falcon . Chewie had even insisted on staying the night there, and nothing that Leia and Han had said had managed to convince him otherwise. It wasn't that he didn't trust Lando, but Han didn't know his crew. They couldn't be too careful. There was more than just his life at stake now.

The bedroom had a set of ample windows just like the ones in the main room, and the virtual blinds on the permaglass were set at half-open, letting the moonbeams in. Han stared at Leia's back, bared by the fine nightgown Lando's people had provided though partially hidden by her unbound dark hair. She looked like something out of his wildest dreams as she lay on the bed next to him, bathed in pale light, sleeping peacefully.

He ached to reach for her and hold her close, but even though they shared a bed, their blissful interlude seemed to have come to an end. She had been drawn and pensive when she wasn't alert and distrustful, their dinner a quiet and bittersweet affair. After taking a long shower, she slid under the covers next to him without a word. Her hair hung free, though, and it felt like a sign, a barrier between them. Leia had taken to going to bed with her hair in a loose braid whenever she expected to have sex, after the first few times of accidental pulls on his narrow bunk. Unbound hair meant no sex; her back turned to him, her body curled up protectively on the other side of the bed meant no touching.

This was their last night together and it felt like penance. He wanted to hold her, yet he was forced to look at her just barely out of reach.

If she was asleep now—and she had to be, it was so late—he could probably scoot over and—

'Stop staring at me,' her smoky voice said. Leia rolled over, looking at him through tired eyes unable to give in to sleep. 'I can feel your eyes drilling holes through my skull.'

'Wasn't starin' at you, just lookin' in your general direction,' Han replied. She laughed, a close-mouthed, almost wry sound that somehow managed to simultaneously break and increase the tension between them.

'Hope it wasn't my eyes keepin' you up,' he added. 'Maybe we should leave the room pitch-black; haven't been able to get much of a shut-eye myself.'

Leia nodded once, her beautiful big eyes fixed on his face, fingers clutching at the sheets between them. Then, still without saying a word, she scooted up until her head was on the edge of her pillow and kissed him, tentative at first, then deep and slow, her lips caressing his, his nose pressed against her cheek as he tilted his head for a better angle.

Her hand released the sheets to hold the back of his head as they kissed and Han slid an arm around her waist, his splayed fingers stroking the planes of her back. Shifting her lower body closer, she hooked a leg over his hip and pressed herself against him. Her hips ground into him, moving in slow circles against his stomach.

Leia broke the kiss, breathing heavily against his lips. Looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes, her hand glided down his chest and stomach, then tugged down at his underwear until it was low enough for her to kick it off with her feet. Han slid an arm between her and the mattress, holding her body close, as his free hand slipped under her briefs and pushed them down, her legs shifting to help him until they were free of the garment, wrapping around him once again. She pressed a languid kiss to his lips, then his chin, his throat, as she moved her body down to fit her hips into his. She took him inside her and they moved together unhurriedly, a dream-like rhythm of short thrusts that took him deep as her knees dug into his back, his hand holding her bottom. She moaned softly into his neck, not unlike she would were she asleep, and when she came, she shuddered and exhaled as if she'd just had a really good dream. He kept going when he felt her hands gripping his upper arm in encouragement, as he wondered if she'd fallen asleep. She moved until she drove out his release and he growled, tightening inside of her and around her, and in a moment he was panting, low and quiet, still limbs loosely wrapped around her. Her breathing felt cool against the hollow of his collarbone.

Han buried his nose to the crown of her head, his hands sliding under her nightgown to caress her skin, adjusting slightly until he was on his back and Leia's weight resting on his chest instead of his arm. His brain, exhausted from adjusting to Cloud City's day length and in post-coital drowsiness, was at last shutting down, but part of him refused to give in, to make the night end.

This is it.

And still he wondered, what if he wasn't leaving? What if he stayed? Could she ever love a man like him?

No. Not the old me. That's why I got to pay Jabba. A clean start.

But she already loves you, said a different voice, a voice that sounded a lot like Leia.

'I love you, too,' he mumbled before drifting off, dimly aware of the arms that wrapped him tighter in their embrace.