A/N: I know this is super short. I do intend to add a long and romantic lemon to it eventually, but this is all that's already been written for the moment.
Hanleia's Wedding Night:
D201/4 ABY, Endor Moon
pLeia led Han by the hand across the series of bridges to their borrowed hut. For his part, Han had a grin on his face that you couldn't wipe off short of another Death Star showing up, and even then, he'd probably tell the Imperials to hold that thought until morning. Or perhaps two mornings from now. Han had no intentions of letting Leia out of his arms until he absolutely had to.
As Leia approached the little doorway to their equally little hut, she turned around and looked up at Han, the sweetest smile on her face and desire shining in her eyes. They hadn't been truly intimate since before Cloud City and she'd missed Han desperately over the last year. After rescuing him from Jabba, they'd immediately flown to join the fleet, which gave them time to snuggle in bed for a few hours, but Han still hadn't been well after being frozen for so long, so snuggle was all they did. Last night she'd been so upset over finding out Darth Vader was her father and that Luke was going to face him again, she'd spent the whole night lying sleepless in Han's arms, not even remotely in the mood for loving, but his comforting presence was enough to keep her from spending the whole night crying in a curled up mess, which just made her love him more. Han had clearly been confused and miserable over her out of character depression, but he'd never pushed for more explanations or tried to get frisky, even though he had been feeling much better.
Now Leia was definitely in the mood for celebrating and showing Han how much she loved him in the most physical way possible. Grabbing his other hand too, she walked backwards through the leather curtain doorway, smiling at how Han had to duck to avoid beaming himself on the doorframe. They came to a stop inside the small space, staring into each other's eyes like twitterpated fools, not saying a word, because they didn't need them.
Han pulled her close with their joined hands, placing them behind his neck before letting hers go and stroking a gentle knuckle across her satin soft cheek, flushed red with excitement. His other hand trailed down her slender back and lifted her up by the waist, bringing their faces closer together so he could kiss the breath right out of her.
Leia moaned softly into her husband's mouth as their tongues duelled passionately. She'd honestly never been happier than in that moment, wrapped in his arms, feeling like she'd finally found home again. It didn't matter where they ended up in the war or afterwards. It didn't matter if they lived in his junk heap of a ship or in a palace. Her place would always be with Han.
Han pulled back after a few minutes and looked down at the tiny bed they'd crammed themselves into last night and groaned. "Hell no," he muttered out.
"What?" Leia asked in confusion.
"Grab your things, sweetheart," Han said. "I am not spending my wedding night on that. We're going back to the Falcon."
Leia glanced at the bed and giggled before picking up her other outfit. Han grabbed her by the hand and they were off once again, but now it was Han leading and her with the grin you couldn't wipe off.