All The Way

by justinegraham

Two stubborn humans, one ailing ship, and nowhere left to hide. Our version of the first few days on the trip to Bespin, as told from Han's point of view. Rated M for future chapters. Co-written with Erin Darroch. AU: Our stories do not adhere to Disney canon at all. Thumbnail art by Martynn c. 1980.

12. All The Way

Chapter 12 – All the Way

By Justine Graham and Erin Darroch

Forget cold showers, Han decided. As a method for dampening physical enthusiasm, Wroshyr brandy was the way to go. With two healthy measures of the potent liquor coursing through his system, he felt like he was finally regaining the ability to breathe normally again.

It was the strangest of paradoxical effects; the amber spirit burned his throat and pooled in his stomach like liquid fire, yet somehow also cooled the raging heat of desire that thrummed through his veins, reducing it to a pleasant and manageable glow.

Despite his initial misgivings, he had to admit that the distraction of sharing a convivial drink in the central hold with Chewie was just what he'd needed. The quiet interlude was a welcome reprieve, a chance to regain some semblance of self-control after the blinding intensity of what had transpired between him and Leia in the galley. A quick trip to the 'fresher and a splash of cool water to his face had helped a little, too.

He angled a downward glance at the princess, now nestled beside him on the bench and comfortably tucked into the crook of his arm. Initially, on return from the galley, they had opted to maintain a modest distance between them—perhaps out of habit, but perhaps also as a necessity for the preservation of some decorum in Chewie's presence. After the first drink was poured and their glasses raised in celebration of their survival against the odds, the delicious but distracting tension that had crackled between him and the princess had begun to ease. After the second toast, when conversation turned to lighter topics and the atmosphere became more companionable, Leia opted to close the gap a little more, shifting along the bench just enough to bring her hand into contact with Han's own atop the padded seat. He had quirked a smile at her surreptitious touch and turned his hand over, tickling her palm with his fingertips even as he tipped his glass up to his lips with his other hand, and nodded along with whatever Chewie was saying. It amazed him to realise how such a simple act could feel so good, how pleasurable it was to measure his big hand against her smaller one, to stroke her delicate knuckles with his thumb and feel the light rasp of her nails on his skin. They'd held hands before, though usually only out of necessity or in times of distress. Now they did it because they craved each other's touch—and there was no longer any need to deny themselves the pleasure.

Later, on returning from a visit to the fresher, Leia had slipped back into the booth, but this time she'd moved right around the curve and slid under the arc of Han's welcoming arm as naturally as if she'd done that every day of her life. The pleasure he had felt at that gesture prompted him to press an impulsive kiss to her forehead, to which she had responded by dropping her head back and inviting another brief kiss upon her lips. Chewie's azure eyes had all but disappeared in his furry face as he'd beamed his obvious approval.

Now, as the Wookiee poured the third and final round, tipping the last drops from the bottle into Leia's glass, Han felt comfortably buzzed, loose and relaxed. Leia's warm presence was less a distraction now and more of a grounding force. The evening stretched out ahead of them, rich with scintillating promise—but for now, the feeling of his sweetheart nestled under his arm, with her hand warmly at rest on his knee, was enough. It was a tangible reminder that, regardless of what the future might hold, they were together now, with each other and for each other, all the way. That fleeting thought brought a faint smile back to his face, which Chewbacca noticed. The Wookiee's azure eyes drifted between them, as he set the empty bottle down.

[*It has been another long day, my friends*] he said, [*but one I shall always remember.*]

Han nodded. "I think we all will, pal. It's not every day you cheat death in as many ways as we have today."

[*That was yesterday,*] Chewie corrected, with an upward hitch of one furry eyebrow. [*We have slept since then. And yes, we were lucky to cheat death so many times. Although...in my time with you, I have grown accustomed to close calls.*]

Leia gave a low snort, while Han shot his friend an exaggerated look of insult. Before he had the chance to retort, Chewie lifted a forestalling paw. [*Yesterday, we cheated death,*] he rumbled. [*Today, we embrace life.*]

The princess stirred beside Han and then leaned forward to retrieve her glass. She lifted it in salute, as her companions did likewise. "To embracing life," she said.

Han echoed her words in a murmur, as the three friends clinked their rims together and then drank.

"Damn, that's good," Han said, after savouring and swallowing another sip of the delicious liquor. "Thanks for sharing it, buddy, but I thought this stuff was always reserved for important ceremonial occasions. Where'd you get it, anyway?"

The Wookiee's expression softened, and the eloquent look he directed at Han was bright with mingled amusement and affection. [*Malla acquired it and gave it to me, for you.*]

Han froze for an instant in the act of lifting his glass back to his lips, then completed the motion and took another sip, before setting his glass down and meeting the Wookiee's twinkling gaze once more. He had no idea how to respond to his friend's remark, but he spared a moment to feel grateful that the implications of the gift seemed to have flown right over the princess' head. Her understanding of Shyriiwook, though quite good for a relative beginner, did not extend to a grasp of the difference between the singular form of the word "you" and the form that was used strictly to refer to a life-bonded pair. As confident as he now felt about their mutual devotion to one another, only a few hours had passed since they'd made their full confessions, and he thought it might be a bit premature to begin entertaining the Wookiee couple's romantic notions about their distant future, no matter how much he hoped those good wishes would come true.

"I hope she won't mind that we drank it all for this occasion," Leia said, oblivious to the conversational undercurrent.

[*Not at all. She wanted me to share it with you when the time was right, and I believe that time is now. It is good to see you both so happy.*]

Leia blushed, but beamed a smile at their simian friend. "Thank you, Chewie."

There was still a dram of liquor remaining in Han's tumbler and almost as much in the one in front of Leia when Chewbacca drained the last drop from his own cup and then set it down with a thunk atop the table. He smacked his furry lips in appreciation.

[*That was very enjoyable,*] he said. [*But now I must retire.*] Rising to his feet, he gave a broad stretch and widened his shaggy muzzle in an exaggerated yawn. [*It is early, but I am weary. My last sleep cycle was...abruptly terminated.*]

In his peripheral vision, Han saw Leia's face contort in a rueful grimace, and she bit her lip. "I'm so sorry about that."

[*There is no need for apology, Little Princess,*] Chewie replied. [*In fact, the deficit ensures that I will sleep deeply tonight. Very deeply.*] His blue gaze travelled to Han, and he gave his captain a meaningful look. [*But I will be wearing my earphones, just in case. If I am to wake unexpectedly, I would rather it be to the soothing rhythms of tree-drum music than to the sounds of you two shouting angrily at one other.*]

Han bit the inside of his cheek to stop a laugh. There wasn't going to be any angry shouting tonight, and Chewie knew that—it was abundantly clear that he and the princess had progressed well beyond that dysfunctional form of communication now, but it was kind of the Wookiee to pretend otherwise. Han met Leia's warm gaze and a look of quiet understanding passed between them. He gave her hand a light, affirming squeeze. He appreciated his considerate friend's oblique way of indicating that he would remain tucked away in his private quarters and insulated in a bubble of his own design for the rest of the night. He thought Leia probably appreciated it, too.

After bidding them good night, Chewie ambled off in the direction of his quarters, softly rumbling the Shyriiwook equivalent of a shapeless tune as he lumbered down the corridor. As his friend departed and his heavy footfalls faded into the distance, Han felt a sudden, inexplicable wave of nervousness, as though a tendril of restless energy was pushing against the calming bulwark of brandy. He reached out for his tumbler and peered into it thoughtfully, wrestling with the unfamiliar feeling while watching the amber liquid sparkle and glint with the reflection of the overhead lights. He couldn't figure it out. All day he had waited, balancing on the thin edge of patience, feeling desperate for the chance to be truly alone with Leia—and now that the moment was finally upon him, he didn't quite know what to do next. He drew a deep breath and released it slowly, swirling the remaining liquor in his glass as he gathered his thoughts.

He had all but decided to down the rest in one gulp when, beside him, Leia lifted her own glass. She angled her body toward him and gave him a beautiful smile. "We have enough for one more toast," she said, holding her tumbler aloft. "What shall it be?"

The warmth of her gaze and the glow of invitation in her eyes sent a welcome ripple of calm coursing through Han, and he returned her smile with a gentle one of his own.

"To us," he said.

Although his voice sounded hoarse, the words had come naturally to his lips, and all of his hopes for the future seemed to add hefty weight to the simple phrase. He could hardly believe he was in a position to speak the notion aloud to her, at long last, to give voice to a proposition that had once seemed so absurdly out of reach.

Leia's smile grew more radiant. "To us," she agreed, eyes twinkling. They touched rims and then sipped, watching one another with lively interest as the last few drops of brandy went the way of the first.

At length, Han finally set his empty tumbler aside. Leia followed suit, although she didn't immediately release her hold on the squat glass after setting it down. Instead, she kept her eyes trained on it for a long moment, watching her own hand as she toyed idly with the empty vessel. All of Han's attention was fixed on her, his breathing turning shallow and quick as he waited to see what would happen next.

It came as a slight surprise when she darted a sideways look at him, and then gave him a tremulous smile.

"I'm—I'm a little nervous." She set the cup down with a clink and then shifted on the bench and drew one leg up beneath her to face him more fully, looking simultaneously vulnerable and beautifully brave.

Her quiet admission took Han's breath away, at the same time as it sweetly squeezed his beating heart and plunged it even deeper into love. They were delving into delicate territory now, more tender and terrifying than anything he had ever experienced before. He drew in a deep breath and then blew it out, before matching her confession with one of his own.

"Me, too."

Leia's eyes widened on his. She gaped at him for a moment and then lifted one dubious eyebrow. "You are?"

Han gave a short laugh. "Yeah. I really am. Does that surprise you?"

Leia looked truly bewildered. "Well, y-yes…I mean, I suppose it's obvious why I might benervous…but you—." She stopped short and tilted her head to one side. "I mean...why, though?"

Han considered her question carefully before answering. His throat felt tight despite the loosening warmth of the brandy, and for a fleeting moment he feared the words might not find their way through. "Because…." He drew another cleansing breath and then let it out. "You mean so much to me, Sweetheart. And this…." He gestured between them, encompassing their entire relationship and all the progress they'd made in the last few hours. "This is the best thing that's ever happened to me. I don't want to screw it up."

Leia's eyes flicked to the galley hatch and then back to his once more. "I don't think that's a possibility," she said, as her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink.

Han quirked a smile at her, feeling deeply gratified by her vote of confidence on that score, but he gently corrected her assumption nevertheless. "I don't mean just tonight. I mean...the whole thing. You and me. I've never—look, Sweetheart, I've got no experience with this. Not even by proxy, unless you want to count Chewie and Malla as role models. And as solid as they are, theirs is...not a human relationship."

Leia's mouth fell softly open as she comprehended his meaning.

He rushed on, feeling excruciatingly vulnerable before her frankly assessing gaze, but determined to lay his heart bare anyway. All-in. All the way. "I just mean that...I want to be the kind of man you deserve, Leia. I hope I can be. I'm sure as hell gonna try."

Leia's expression turned infinitely tender. "Oh," she said softly. "I thought I'd made myself clear." Curling her legs up to one side atop the bench, she planted a hand on the seat cushion between them and leaned in closer to catch his gaze. "You already are." She stretched up to close the distance, placing a soft kiss on his lips to set the seal on that solemn declaration. She broke the contact, but remained close, nuzzling his cheek and then putting her mouth to his ear. "You are everything I want, Han." She sat back and met his gaze once more. "I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you that. Sorry I ever denied it. I love you." Her dark eyes held his unwaveringly, and Han could feel the strength of her conviction in that statement. "I hope you know that now and never doubt it."

Han closed his eyes for a moment, letting those words settle down upon him. They seeped into his heart with the warmth of a gentle spring rain, infusing the tender emotion rooted there with bright, vibrant energy. He basked in it, feeling it grow and strengthen within him with every breath he took—and when he opened his eyes again, he met her gaze once more and gave her a slow nod.

I know. I really do.

The smile she beamed back at him was as bright as any sun. They leaned together and shared another soft and lingering kiss of affirmation.

"And as for tonight," Leia said as she sat back and gave him an appraising look. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who's a little nervous, but for what it's worth…." She paused for a long time, eyes twinkling. "I think we'll be amazing."

Han gave a short laugh, feeling both surprised and delighted at her bold prediction. He suspected that at least some of her remarkable disinhibition this evening was a result of the potent brandy she'd imbibed, but he hoped it also stemmed in part from the new depth of trust that existed between them now. "Oh, you think so?" he said, laying a hand upon her bent knee. "Why's that?"

"Because it's you," she said, pointedly running her eyes up and down the length of him, "and it's me." She laughed. "And...we love each other. What could be more amazing than that?"

Han smiled at her exuberance and nodded his agreement, but he felt like his heart might actually burst if it got any fuller. Absently, he rubbed her knee as he pondered the distance travelled. How long had he yearned to hear those words from her lips? To see that stunning smile directed at him, and to know without a doubt that she loved him the way he loved her? The reality of it was far better than any fantasy, that was for sure.

He cast another glance at the princess, taking in the details of her position. She was already seated very close to him and, with her legs curled up, she made a compact package he reckoned he could easily move. Twisting slightly on the bench, he wrapped both arms around her and pulled her bodily to his side, all in one motion. She gasped and then laughed at the deft manoeuvre, then poked a playful finger at the faded convor on his chest as she tipped her face up to his.

"What about you?" she asked in a teasing tone, raising both eyebrows. "Don't you think we'll be amazing?"

"I think 'amazing' might turn out to be the understatement of all time," he replied with blunt conviction. He tucked his chin to his chest and looked down at her with undisguised adoration. "Especially if this afternoon is anything to go by…." He flicked his eyes in the direction of the galley, indicating the location of their most recent heated encounter, although in truth he meant everything that had transpired between them over the past few hours. Every minute that had passed since she'd slipped into the cockpit and laid him to waste was etched into his memory, there to linger for all time.

Leia blushed pink at the reference to their latest amorous interlude, but cocked her head back against his shoulder and bit her cheek, as if giving the matter some serious thought. "I suppose there's really only one way to know for sure," she mused. She tilted her face up a little more, inviting his kiss, and he eagerly complied.

The first soft brush of their lips together was like the ignition of a dormant circuit, an electric spark that stoked the simmering energy between them and brought it roaring back to full and vibrant life in an heartbeat. He claimed her mouth then and kissed her deeply, revelling in the heady taste of her, mingled with the warm flavour of brandy on her tongue. She responded with heat, slipping her arms around his neck, and then breaking the kiss long enough to shift up onto her knees beside him for better access. They were both breathless within moments, but oxygen seemed to have dropped right to the bottom of their shared priorities. They exchanged giddy smiles and then, kneeling high on the bench at his side, Leia took his face in her hands and kissed him again.

This time she took it slowly, her soft lips sensuously devouring his own with minute and meticulous care, as if his mouth was the most delectable delicacy she had ever tasted and she didn't want to waste a morsel. The experience shocked Han as much as it thrilled him, left him lightheaded and reeling, even as he returned her tender caresses with equal fervour. He'd been kissed before, plenty of times, by a reasonable number of sentient beings and with varying degrees of intensity—but never like that. Never once in his life had anyone ever actively adored him the way Leia did as she kissed him, pushing her fingers through his hair and breathing softly against his lips. He wrapped his arms around her and, for a long while, simply lost himself in the pure pleasure of holding her close and exchanging passionate kisses around their irrepressible smiles. He lost track of everything else. There was only Leia, beguiling and beautiful, warm and real—and somehow, miraculously, in love with him.

The biological imperative for a full intake of air finally won out. They broke apart and then grinned at each other as they panted for breath. Leia sat back on her heels beside him and fanned her face with both hands, looking radiant and exhilarated.

"Still think 'amazing' will cover it?" Han quipped, once he could speak.

Leia gave a low laugh. "No, but what's better than amazing?"

Han cocked an eyebrow. "I don't know yet, but come back here and let's find out."

By way of response, the princess rose up to her knees once more and loomed over him, forcing him to tilt his head back to keep her in view. The Falcon's environmental systems had automatically lowered the lights at around the same time as they had sat down to dinner, but the ambient glow was still bright enough to illuminate her lovely features and highlight the auburn strands in her rich brown hair. Her dark eyes, fixed on his, gleamed with a lively light of their own.

"Close enough?" she teased.

Han smirked and managed a small shake of his head. "Closer."

She inched forward and then eased one leg up and over his thighs, keeping her eyes locked on his as she then slowly descended into his lap. His thumbs skimmed feverish circles at her waist as he guided her down.

"Is that better?"

Han's grunt of eager assent turned into a groan of tortured pleasure and what was left of the blood in his brain careened swiftly southward as Leia settled her weight fully astride him. His attention was torn between the exquisite pleasure of her soft core warmly aligning with his cock, and the look on her face as she experienced a new level of intimate contact with him for the first time. She stared at him with widened eyes, her breaths coming short and shallow as she gripped his shoulders and then slowly inched forward in his lap, pressing the hot centre of her body against his swiftly growing erection.

Fuck was the only word Han could manage in that moment, although he slammed his eyes shut and sent up a prayer of gratitude that his sleep pants were made of slightly thicker material than his shirt. Even with layers of soft fabric between them, he could tell how profoundly the princess had been affected by what they'd been doing together at intervals all afternoon—and she could surely discern the same about him. That realisation brought with it a fresh surge of urgent and intense desire for union.

He opened his eyes and met her heated gaze as he tightened his grip on her waist. He could tell that she would make no objection if he were to scoop her up and carry her to the bunk room this instant, no more fooling around, but he clenched his jaw against the impulse. Even in an acute state of arousal, he retained a tenuous grip on a higher ambition. Although he knew it would take every trick in the book—and probably the last speck of his self-control—he had set his sights on achieving something well beyond amazing for their first experience together, and he fully intended to reach that goal.

"Is this okay?" Leia breathed, bringing her lips close to his own, teasing a kiss.

Han slipped his hands down around the curve of her hips. "Hell yes it's okay," he croaked and then choked on a short laugh at the depth of the understatement. He kissed the corner of her mouth and gave her an encouraging squeeze. "Do that again, Sweetheart."

She pulled back to meet his eyes, braced her hands on his shoulders and then slowly undulated her hips against him once more. The sensation alone was exquisite enough, but the sight of Leia watching him through hooded eyes as she moved seductively astride the length of him was almost too much. He realised in that moment that if he let her set the pace, the evening would likely come to a premature and ignominious end.

His dazed brain finally kicked in with a belated reminder that the princess was wearing nothing at all under her sleep shirt, a realisation that promptly sent his hands skimming higher, slipping under the loose hem, and then higher still. The feel of her smooth skin made him shiver, and the warmth and weight of her breasts in his palms was divine. Leia gave a slight jolt at the first touch of his hands, and then she melted, her gaze growing half-lidded and hazy as he reverently caressed her soft body. He spared a moment to appreciate the merits of their new position. With her astride his lap, he had both hands free, and easy access to every part of her; moreover, he could observe her beautiful face and see the effects of his roaming touch. Watching with rapt attention, he noted the way her lips parted as he trailed his fingers lightly over the tips of her breasts, felt the hitch in her breath as he brought the nipples to firm peaks with a few deft strokes of his thumbs. When he gently tweaked the pebbled flesh between thumb and forefinger, she clutched at his shoulders, let her head loll back, and gave herself up completely to his adoration.

With the pale arc of her throat now offered for the taking, Han eagerly claimed it with his mouth, laying an erratic path of kisses from the underside of her chin down to the soft hollow between her collarbones, feeling the thrill of her pulse under each press of his lips, as her heartbeat quickened to a high rhythm that matched his own. The scoop of her loose neckline had shifted, exposing one shapely shoulder, flushed pink, but limned in a warm, honeyed glow from the overhead lights. He claimed that, too, while keeping up the gentle, rhythmic motions of his hands under her shirt, warmly kneading the soft weight of her breasts in light motions that Leia seemed to find as hypnotic as he found pleasurable.

He noted with an inward chuckle that his diversionary tactic had worked to still the tantalizing motion of her hips, but an instant later she straightened up and pressed herself against his lap again, and then began slowly undulating against him in a sultry rhythm that made his eyes try to roll back in his head. The feel of her, the scent of her, and the soft sounds she was making made it damn near impossible for him to focus, but he panted warm encouragement nevertheless. He left her breasts and allowed his hands to roam all over beneath her loose top, mapping her bare body for the first time and trying like hell to ignore the pressure tightly coiling in his groin. He measured her rib cage with splayed hands and then warmly stroked down her sides to the dip of her waist, before swarming around to claim the new territory of her slender back. Lightly trailing the pads of his fingers down either side of her spine, he found and then tactilely explored the tiny dimples at the small of her back, enjoying the way her hips continued their subtle rolling motion beneath his hands. The heat and friction caused by her movements had him rock-hard and straining against the restrictive fabric of his pants, a condition Leia seemed to relish with every slow undulation.

Her breath was coming in ragged gasps now, and he drew his head back enough to drink in the glorious sight of her—with her head tipped back and her lips parted, she looked as though she were adrift in some ethereal plane. She was breathless and beautifully tousled, her skin flushed a rosy pink and her half-lidded eyes wavering on some distant point far above her unseeing gaze.

Looking up at her, Han felt another prickle of worry that he wasn't going to be able to last the distance, especially considering the fact that he was already in a precarious state, even though they were both still fully clothed and sitting upright in the well-lit central hold. He couldn't imagine how he was going to cope once they made it to the bunk room and were completely naked together in bed for the first time. Closing his eyes and setting his jaw, he concentrated for a moment on flexing his thighs, counting on the rhythmic tensing and releasing of the large muscles there to draw some energy away from his aching groin. It was a simple trick he'd learned as a teenager, a sure-fire method to get rid of an inconvenient erection, and it had stood him in good stead over the years. But this was Leia, the pinnacle of all his desires, sweetly writhing in his lap—nothing in his past had ever prepared him for this, or ever meant so much. He could only hope, and renew his offered pleas to myriad deities, that it would be enough to see him through the rest of the evening.

Feeling marginally more in control of himself and craving the taste of her, he pulled one hand free of her shirt, reached up to cradle her head, and then dragged her mouth to his. Leia responded with fervour, kissing him eagerly and deeply, as she continued to rock warmly against him. As her tongue tangled deliciously with his and the tension within him began to mount up once again, he realised he'd made a critical mistake. The intensity of sensation aroused by the intimate communion of lips and tongues, combined with the exquisite friction down below, presented a serious threat to his tenuous self-restraint, creating pressure that built rapidly towards a tipping point from which there would be no return. The looming prospect of that untimely ending finally tore a rough groan from his throat and, gripping her hips with both hands, he pinned her firmly in place to stop her motion.

"Seven hells, Sweetheart, give me a—I need to—we gotta—"

Leia's low laughter bubbled up and then cascaded over into helpless giggles as she rose up high on her knees, abruptly leaving his throbbing lap. He gasped in relief as she tipped herself to one side and then fell over onto the bench beside him, where she lay for a moment in a breathless, laughing sprawl. Han was breathing hard, too, and he chuckled along with her, while also frantically employing every unobtrusive trick he could think of to bring his treacherous body back from the perilous brink. Mercifully, his determined efforts brought swift success and, a moment later, he looked over to find the princess eyeing him with open adoration and amusement.

"Goddess, that was fun," she said.

"Fun?" Han squawked. "What happened to 'amazing'?"

"Oh, we're already well past that, Flyboy."

She was half-reclining where she'd landed, although she had shifted up to one elbow to look at him, with one stockinged foot planted atop the bench and the other lazily swinging just above the deck plates. Han ran his eyes over her, appreciating how good she looked in her mismatched nightwear, with her upswept hair beginning to come unravelled from its bindings. For a split-second, he was tempted to give in to the primitive impulse to crawl right over the top of her and cover her body with his own. She would have welcomed him with warm enthusiasm, he had no doubt of that, but the brightly lit expanse of the central hold was not the intimate setting for what he had in mind, and he had already cruised a little too close to the event horizon once this evening. It was time to throttle his engines and regain a little control.

He slid along the curved seat in the opposite direction from the princess and then—after a brief, wincing pause to regain the ability to walk—stood up and stepped over to where she lounged on the exposed end of the bench. She dropped her head back and beamed at him with an upside-down smile that was brighter than the two suns of Tatooine. Gazing down at her upturned grin, he couldn't contain the broad smile that stretched across his own face in response.

It struck him then, in a flash of insight not unlike that moment in the cockpit when the veil between them had been lifted and he had seen himself, at last, through her eyes. There was something else rippling through him now, an emotion brought to life by the precious gift of Leia's love, her abiding trust and fierce commitment, a burgeoning feeling that flourished now in the light of her adoring smile.

He was happy. Happier than he could ever remember being. Hell, he was beginning to realise just how feeble his grasp of the concept of happiness had been before he'd met her. In hindsight, it was not a condition to which he'd ever truly aspired. He'd felt contented at certain points in his life, sure, and occasionally excited, for various reasons. But pure and unadulterated joy? That had always been unknown territory—until now.

As that knowledge sank into his bones, he splayed one hand across his chest and tipped forward in a small approximation of a courtly bow. "Does Her Worship wish to be carried to bed," he queried, "or will she travel there under her own royal power?"

Leia turned over atop the bench and then rose to her knees. She planted her fists on her hips and addressed him with a suitably regal cant to her chin. "'Her Worship' would like to be kissed," she informed him. "All the way to bed."

Han raised both eyebrows, considering the logistics of that proposal. She was already a step ahead of him, though, which he realised as soon as she climbed to her feet atop the bench and beckoned him closer with a crook of her finger. He couldn't help but grin at her playful air, and he was more than ready to do whatever she asked.

The height of the bench put her slightly above him, a privilege she seemed to relish as he approached and slipped his hands around her waist. She draped her arms over his shoulders and gazed down at him with a warm smile, dark eyes twinkling. Then, leaning against him, she hitched one leg over his hip and waggled her eyebrows. He laughed and took her weight upon himself as she left the bench and wrapped her other leg around him, locking her ankles behind his back and her arms securely around his neck. With his hands braced under her hips, he supported her with ease.

"All the way to bed, huh?"

She nodded, and then flicked her eyes down to his lips and back up again. "Please."

He took her mouth with his own before she had even finished the word. Even at the risk of diving straight back into the fire that had nearly consumed him a moment before, he could not resist her. And as he noted when his body surged anew, it wasn't any easier to keep himself in check when standing upright, not with Leia's limbs wrapped around him, her breasts pressed against his chest, and her hot mouth moving sensuously, meltingly with his. Somehow, though, he managed to swivel around so that he was at least facing in the right direction. He broke the kiss to take a glance ahead, got a line on the galley hatch and then began making his way toward his destination, arms laden with his precious cargo.

Bereft of his kiss, Leia drew back with a disapproving furrow of her brow. "I said all the way."

With a laugh, he paused long enough to capture her lips in another kiss. "I'm a good pilot, Sweetheart," he said when they parted, chuckling as she dipped her head down and began kissing his neck. "But this ship needs a navigator, too. And since you're busy…."

Leia murmured something incomprehensible as she adorned his throat with kisses, nuzzling him and audibly inhaling his scent as if she thought he was the finest spice in all the galaxy. In some ways, it was easier to navigate while she was doing the kissing, but in other ways Han found it almost impossible. After taking just a few steps away from the bench, warmly tangled up with her and with the sensation of her lips nibbling the fleshy lobe of his ear, he was distracted to the point of stumbling. He had a wild urge to turn and press her up against the nearest available bulkhead, but he tightened his grip on her and tamped down on the impulse, firm in his resolve to get them to the bunk, or die trying.

He fumbled again at the galley threshold, but recovered quickly and managed to sidle through and out the other side without banging into anything, craning his neck for a line of sight and feeling his way into the dimly-lit corridor with his stockinged feet. Leia carried on pressing heated kisses wherever she could reach, oblivious to his struggles, and clearly intent on taking him to the edge of his sanity. By the time they arrived at the bunkroom hatch, he was breathing hard once more—and not from exertion. He paused in front of the faintly glowing control panel, the hair at the nape of his neck prickling as the princess pressed her breasts against his chest and peppered a trail of tiny kisses along the line of his jaw up to his ear. She lavished attention there, stretching up to trace the delicate pinna with the teasing tip of her tongue, before pausing with a whisper.

"Nice flying, Hotshot."

He turned his head and silenced her soft laugh with another searing kiss. He poured his heart into it, teasing her tongue into play and then softly stroking it with his own in wordless promise of things to come. He kissed her until she moaned, and then drew back to meet her heated gaze.

"I love you, Sweetheart," he said, without even realising that he was going to speak. Seeing the happy spark that flared in her eyes, the way the honest words brought a fresh flush to her skin and set it aglow, he wanted to tell her again immediately. At such close proximity, he could see exactly what it meant to her when he confessed the deepest truth of his heart, and he intended to chant it over and over again, to imprint it along with fervent kisses into every centim of her skin.

Hanging on to his shoulder with one arm, Leia reached out with the other, palmed the controls to open the hatch and darted a glance at the dimly lit interior. Then she looked back at Han, her dark eyes alight. A knowing smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"Show me."