Title: Consequences.

Pairing: Luke/Wedge. Slash.

Rating: T/M, rating it M anyway.

Summary: Luke has destroyed the Death Star, so a group of the younger members of the Rebel Alliance decide to celebrate. He somehow knew that he ought not to be trusted with alcohol.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, or parts of the story. They belong to George Lucas, regardless of how much I'd like to own Luke Skywalker. Haha.

Author's Note: This is a little break from my fic, Bury Me Deep Inside My Heart. I do intend to work more on that when I have more time, I began it during my two week vacation and haven't had much patience or time since to write more. I'm writing this as it is, late at night while I am half-asleep, so bear with me. I recently discovered Luke/Wedge as a pairing, and it was much cuter than I originally assumed it would be.

Consequences

"Are you sure we won't get caught?"

Luke Skywalker was a little nervous, to say in the very least. His childhood had basically been a sheltered one, and though he always wanted to rebel and have fun as a teenager, he didn't necessary get the chance. Destroying the Empire's Death Star was a major feat, especially for some eighteen year old farmer from Tatooine, so therefore his colleagues - the ones closer to his age, with the exception of Han Solo - had decided to hold a celebration for him. Of course, Han had smuggled in Corellian whiskey - smuggling being his career of sorts, he had no problem with this - and the group had gathered in Wedge Antilles' room for their 'party'.

Han rolled his eyes, "Luke, you need to calm down. There's no crime against having fun."

"The most of us are underaged! They would never -"

"This will be so much easier once the whiskey is in you."

"Is it..." Luke looked nervous, "Strong?"

"Afraid you can't take it?"

The eighteen year old glared at the smug-looking Corellian, "Not a chance!"

That was the answer Han was looking for as he opened the bottle, and the smell of the drink filled the room. It was unlike anything Luke had ever smelled, not a strong as the cantina in Mos Eisley - which was probably filled with much more than just alcohol - though definitely not as mild as anything he'd had with friends before. He hadn't tasted anything alcoholic before, though he didn't necessarily want everyone to know that. The boy was practically a hero, and he told himself that he wouldn't come off as innocent as he knew he was. Han took a swig and then passed the bottle of the amber liquid to Wedge, sitting beside him.

Downing a gulp, Wedge breathed out, "Damn, that's the good stuff."

"That's Corellian for you."

"I know, Solo. I'll have you know I'm from Corellia myself."

"Really?" Han's eyebrow rose, "That's news. I think I like you already, Antilles."

Luke watched on nervously as Wedge drank some more, before passing off to the guy beside him. The only reason that Luke knew Han was because of the mix up that brought them to the Rebellion in the first place, and he knew Wedge from the battle of the Death Star itself, though he didn't know anyone else in the room. He wasn't even sure of their names, which was basically all he knew of Wedge, despite the fact that the boy was a pilot, and dashing in a way that Luke had never noticed in another before. The men sat in a circle on the floor of the room, and being stuck between two guys that he didn't even know made the former farmer feel very nervous. He was passed the bottle in no time from a curly haired blond beside him, but did nothing with it at first.

"Come on Luke, you've got to drink," Han coaxed.

"Yeah, you're going to need it, commander."

Luke's eyes bugged out when he heard the title, "Commander? I'm not a commander."

"They're making you one, so I've heard."

Wedge nodded, "They like the way you took charge with us Reds, so they want to give you a squadron of your own."

"Where did you hear this?"

"It's just gossip," another boy said, "Though personally, I believe it's true."

Everyone seemed to share the same thoughts, that the rumour was certainly true and that Luke Skywalker would be made a commander of a squadron. This made Luke feel even more nervous than he already was. He didn't have the experience to command a group of rebels, he had barely been with them a day and already, he was being made a leader of sorts in their ranks? It couldn't have been possible, though he remembered that Ben had told him his father was the best pilot in the galaxy. Obviously, he had inherited something other than the Force from his father. Deciding that he couldn't handle his nerves in this situation, he took a sudden swig of the whiskey.

"That's it, kid! Down that stuff!"

Luke nearly recoiled at the taste, it definitely wasn't what he was expecting. "This is...strong."

"Only the best comes from Corellia," the smuggler added.

"I'm supposing that doesn't include yourself?"

"Aww shut up, Antilles."

Luke took another gulp, letting the amber liquid burn down his throat as he did so. Nearly instantly, he felt his mind slipping away, the alcohol beginning to take over within his brain. The Force had dimmed, or at least he had assumed so, since he could barely feel it over the intoxication that was coming on. Having never drank before, he obviously could not hold his liquor, but he didn't assume he'd be feeling it quite so soon. At the same time, he didn't feel he could stop drinking, and as Han watched him, he thanked himself that he had remembered to bring more than one bottle. At the same time, he didn't want Luke to overdo it.

Wedge was thinking the same thing, "Luke...you might want to slow down."

"Slow down? Never!"

"Only one thing we can do," Han shrugged as he spoke, "And that's open another bottle."

The smuggler pulled out the second bottle, the same size and drink as the first, and tossed it to Wedge beside him, granting the younger Corellian the right to drink first. The pilot grinned and accepted, letting himself down a good third of the bottle in one burning, bitter gulp. Han was about to protest, when he noticed Luke hand off the first bottle, and decided to snatch it as soon as it came near. Already, Luke was beyond tipsy, and though Wedge himself was fairly experienced in the usage of Corellian whiskey, he was having trouble holding his liquor as well. Perhaps the reason was the speed in which he'd downed a third of the bottle.

"Commander Skywalker! Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Luke nodded and giggled as he was passed the second bottle, "I'm a commander."

"Easy up on the liquor, commander! We don't want our greatest leader in the medbay anytime soon."

"Lay off, Han! I'm a commander now."

The smuggler shook his head, "Whatever you say, kid. Just share the stuff."

"Alright," Luke giggled again, "Anyone want to share with me?"

One or two of the men had vocally given a reply, though Luke hadn't noticed because Wedge shifted and crawled his way across the concrete floor, meeting Luke right at eye level. The blond's eyes were partially clouded over, everything around him blurring but the Corellian in front of him. Before he got the chance to say anything, Wedge's hand slowly wrapped around the bottle in Luke's, and managed to lightly pull it free, bringing it to his own lips and taking a sip. His eyes never left Luke's as he did so, and the blonde saw it as some sort of challenge, one that he couldn't allow to go unanswered at any cost.

Grabbing the bottle back, Luke whispered, "That's the good stuff, alright."

Taking a sip himself, he didn't break eye contact with Wedge, and the two were speaking, questioning, and answering each other all in just their gaze. A couple other of the boys were beginning to feel the consequences of the whiskey then also, but Han was still relatively sober, as well as wondering when he noticed what was going on between the two youngest pilots in the room. Wedge's hand came to the bottle again, this time wrapping around Luke's, feeling the roughness of the hands that had worked too many years in the sand. Luke hadn't even let go when Wedge raised the bottle again, and instinctively leaned closer when the dark haired pilot took another sip.

"Hey, you two alright over there? Kid, you feeling okay?"

Han was ignored as Wedge offered the bottle back to Luke, whispering, "Drink up, commander."

"You planned this. You wanted me to be vulnerable...to burn like this..."

"Did I?"

"You're a rogue, Wedge Antilles."

"Well then," the Corellian inched his face closer, "Maybe your squadron will be full of rogues."

"I don't care. I only want the good stuff."

Before Wedge could piece together another response in his intoxicated state, Luke bridged the gap between them and placed his lips softly on those of the man before him. Han nearly fell backwards when he saw the two young pilots in a lip lock, Wedge responding to the kiss before no time. It was a union of absolute perfection from the smuggler's view, the two of them were the same age, had just been through an adventure together, and fit together physically better than he had seen anyone. The height was right, the build was right, and Luke's light hair contrasted Wedge's dark hair, leaving them completely balanced. Luke broke the kiss slowly, backing up very slightly so that he could take another sip of the Corellian whiskey.

"You were right, commander. That was the good stuff."

"I'm not your commander," Luke muttered while shaking his head.

"Command me, Luke. Tell me what to do, when to do it...command me, Luke Skywalker."

"Kiss me," Luke breathed, "Now."

Wedge took no time in complying to Luke's command, taking a free hand and holding Luke's head close as he did so. The former farmboy placed the bottle down, allowing someone else to snatch it, as he snaked his arms around Wedge's waist and held him as close as he possibly could. Han - who had completely forgotten about the alcohol due to the sight before him - just sat, bewildered at what he was seeing. People did all sorts of crazy things when under the influence of alcohol, though he wasn't sure if he could remember Luke having such a straightforward side. It had to exist somewhere in there, as he had leaned back onto the floor, pulling the dark haired pilot atop of him.

"Woah...what's going on over there?"

The blond who'd sat beside Luke suddenly turned to see, "Shavit, get a room!"

"Are they an item or something?"

"No," another boy shook his head, "They only met today. Rumour has it, Skywalker has a thing for the princess."

Han grunted, "Obviously not."

"Should we do something about this? Will they even remember this?"

Taking one of the bottles as it came back to him, Han was certain that the two eighteen year olds would likely not remember a thing in the morning, other than pounding hangovers. It was when Wedge's hands - with Luke guiding them part of the way - reached toward Luke's pants that Han decided enough was enough. Either they would have to separate the two, or they would leave them alone, to their own devices. The young hero surely had not had any sexual encounters in his life, he just seemed far too innocent to have been de-purified already, so Han had made his decision based on what he thought was best for the kid.

"Hey guys, come on," he spoke while pulling himself off the floor. "Let's leave them be."

*.S.W.* *.S.W.* *.S.W.* *.S.W.* *.S.W.* *.S.W.* *.S.W.* *.S.W.*

"Did I get trampled by a heard of banthas or what?"

Luke groaned, holding his head as a piercing pain went through it, unlike anything he had ever felt before. His throat was sore, the bitter taste of the whiskey still lingered within it, but it was his head that felt worse. A sickening feeling awoke in his stomach, aware that all the liquor he had drank the previous night was still bubbling down there, though Luke resisted the urge to get up and vomit. Opening his eyes, he was thankful that the room wasn't entirely too light, but he couldn't help but feel cursed for having awoken on the cold, hard floor. It only seemed like a miracle that he wasn't naked, as he'd often heard of situations like this ending up like that.

"Good to see you're finally awake, kid."

Sitting up and groaning, Luke asked, "What are you doing here, Han? Where is here?"

"You're in Wedge's room," he replied causally, handing the blond a glass of water.

"Wedge's room?"

"Yeah. Should've seen yourself last night, you're a very...intimate drunk."

"Intimate?" Luke nearly dropped the water, "I didn't touch anyone, did I?"

"No, just Wedge."

Just Wedge? That certainly wasn't a 'no' answer, seeing as Wedge was someone and he had apparently touched Wedge. It was then, when he took a small sip of the clear liquid, that some of the memories of the previous night came back to him. The details were fuzzy, but he could remember the Corellian whiskey, Wedge's eyes, Wedge's lips, Wedge's hands on him as they decided to explore a little further. He nearly choked when he thought about it, not from disgust but rather surprise as he could remember the things his own hands had done. Han seemed to get a little amusement out of the situation, chuckling as Luke got up on his feet.

"I am never drinking again," Luke told him. "Absolutely never."

"Everybody says that their first time. Besides, wasn't it worth it?"

Luke shook his head, "I can't face him now."

"He wasn't that bad, was he?"

"The opposite, Han. If I see his face, I'll just remember last night, and I'll desire him even more."

"Then you might want to tell him," the smuggler pointed toward the door.

The former farmer, hero of the Rebel Alliance, had nearly paled when he turned to the door and saw Wedge standing there, the other teenager looking just as awkward as Luke felt. No doubt he had gone through a similar experience when he awoke, his clothes as disheveled as the blond's and his head pounding in a similar manner. The younger Corellian approached Luke slowly, unsure of what to do or say. Luke felt insane in the aftermath of the night, but he had to figure out what was going on inside his head. As soon as Wedge stood right before him, Luke had forgotten Han was there, and pulled in the other boy for a soft, yet passionate kiss.

Pulling away reluctantly, Wedge asked, "Then you'll come back again tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it," replied a grinning Luke, as he pulled Wedge closer to him yet again.