Posted as part of hanleiacelebration's HanLeia Appreciation Week 2022 on Tumblr, for Day 5: AU / Canon divergence. Title is from Nelly Furtado's "Promiscuous."
See if you can work me the way you say
"A word, Captain?"
No doubt the few beings who heard Leia Organa's crisp request and saw her lead him around the corner towards a private storage area expected that Han was in for a reprimand, an angry takedown about something or other related to the Alliance. That brisk yet polite tone usually only came out when the Princess was angry about something, yet wanted to remain professional.
That's what Han had been expecting, too, though he wasn't too worried. She'd let him have it about whatever it was that had her worked up, he'd fire back, and they'd work it out, like they always did. He'd probably been poking the rancor a bit more often lately than was advisable, but Leia had recently been lapsing back into how she'd been in the early post-Yavin days, those days when it felt like the woman who'd ordered him into a trash compactor had been replaced by a very efficient ghost. Sometimes a bit of back and forth was enough for her to regain her spark for a while, get Leia back instead of The Princess. Sort of a hard reset.
As they reached their destination, Han couldn't resist a quick remark.
"Y'know," he said, leaning lazily on the shelving unit beside them, "if you wanted to get me alone in a storage area, all you had to do was ask." He grinned, and waited for the explosion.
To his surprise, Leia leaned back on the wall of shelves herself, so that Han was essentially looming over her, and looked up at him.
"I believe I did ask," she replied. Her tone was still businesslike, but she almost seemed like she was daring him to make a move. Her eyes had an odd sort of innocence and challenge in them at the same time.
Wait. She wasn't—what? No, she was fucking with him. Leia wasn't above fucking with him.
"So you did," Han said, deciding to see how she responded.
Leia moved her hands to her hips, and Han was expecting the cold bomb to drop, but she just looked up at him with her sabacc face and said, "Are you gonna do something about it, or are you all talk?"
Han had, admittedly, been a little more forward with Leia lately. He'd made teasing offers in her ear from time to time—could take your mind off all this for a little bit, Princess, have a little fun, just say the word—and had meant them, but he'd not seriously expected her to—
No. She had to be fuckin' with him.
All right, they'd let this play out, then. Another way to get back her spark.
"Okay, Princess," Han said, and then corrected himself. "Leia." Her name left his mouth gently, and he drew closer to her. "Tell me what you want."
Those doe eyes of hers were sharp and soft at the same time, and her voice was clear. She said the words slowly: "I want to come."
Hells. She wasn't fuckin' with him. This was happening. For a second, he just stared at her.
But he managed to recover quickly. "All right, you want to go to the Falcon together, or you want to meet me there in a few?" He started to straighten up, already thinking through how he could sneak her through the South Passage.
"Not so fast, Hotshot," Leia warned, a hand on his arm. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm very busy, and if I'm gone long I'll be missed."
Oh. Oh.
"So, here?" he asked.
"Here," she confirmed. "If you can handle it." That hint of a dare was back in her look.
Part of Han was still reeling in disbelief, but he ignored that bit and focused on meeting her challenge with his. He moved in closer and pulled her toward him, by her waist.
"I'm probably the only one who can handle you. That's why we're here, isn't it?"
Before Leia had finished nodding, Han was kissing her, hard, the way he'd been wanting to kiss her for weeks. Months, maybe. Possibly more than a year. And she returned it, matching his intensity and pulling him closer.
Gods, she tasted amazing, she felt amazing; even with all this damn snow gear between them, he found himself turned on. But hot as all this was, they didn't have much time to fulfill Leia's request. Han pulled away from her mouth but kept her close, speaking in her ear in between kisses on her neck.
"How many of the clothes can come off?" he asked. The storage area was warmer than some spots, but it was still fucking cold.
Leia answered by unfastening the top of her snowsuit, then unzipping it a little beyond the waist, enough that he could reach in to touch her.
Han wasted no time working his mouth down her neck, her collarbone, to the tops of her breasts, while one hand wound down her stomach and inside her snowsuit, caressing her through her underwear. Wetness had already seeped through the fabric, increasing as he stroked her.
"You've been thinkin' about this," he said, almost a mild accusation. "Thinkin' about me."
Rather than answering with words, Leia brought his mouth to hers again, kissing him just as hard as he'd first kissed her, barely stopping for breath. As they kissed, Han continued to touch her over her underwear, enjoying the moans that escaped her mouth in between kisses. He could feel her arousal increasing, her skivvies becoming wetter by the moment, but he could also tell that Leia was unlikely to come just from this. And he really, really wanted to make her come.
Han pulled back slightly after the latest kiss, and he brought three of the fingers he'd been using up to his mouth, sucking on them gently.
Leia, who was watching his face intently as he did this, smiled.
"You look good with something in your mouth."
He waited until he'd pulled the fingers away from his lips, slid them under the waistband of her skivvies, and begun working them around and inside her before asking: "That a hint?"
Leia was already responding to his touch, so much so that she could barely answer him. But she did manage to collect herself enough to say, "An observation. For—future reference."
Nine hells. He could fucking watch this all day, the flush creeping up her upper body, her intense looks, her expression of anguished pleasure. Hint or not, he couldn't resist the urge to taste her. Still working her with his fingers, he used his other hand to uncover just enough skin on her chest to reach under her camisole and uncover her right nipple, which immediately rose in the cold. He gave it a good lick, then began kissing and sucking her breast in earnest.
"Fuck," she managed, overwhelmed by sensation. Han wondered at her again, his fingers still working around and inside her, feeling the warmth radiate from her despite the cold around them.
The famously articulate Leia Organa was practically speechless. A rare opportunity. He paused his attentions at her breast to dare her on.
"Fuck, that's right, Sweetheart, I'm fucking you, fucking you with my fingers," he said, feeling her clench around them every time he said fuck. "That what you needed?"
He was nearly undone himself, but he kept his focus on her. The quickness of her breaths, the softness of her skin, her taut nipple exposed to the cold. He didn't wait for her answer before enveloping it in the warmth of his mouth again.
"Yes," Leia moaned, finally, and Han could tell it was an effort for her to stay relatively quiet. He wished he could take her to the Falcon now, really make her scream, but if this was all they had, he'd take it.
He could feel her getting wetter, could smell her, would love to taste her cunt, but she was right, there was no time. She'd be missed, especially mid-shift. Han had a clear goal when he started, but he was suddenly even more determined to give Leia a hell of an orgasm before she went back to work.
He dipped his fingers inside a little deeper, and her moans grew louder. He gave her nipple a little bite, just a nip, to see if she'd like it.
She did.
"Fuck," she said again. Han could tell she was getting close, so he maintained his pace, aimed for that same spot that made her do a tiny gasp every time he reached it. Her body was trembling, her legs starting to shudder, one of her hands braced behind her to keep her from falling over.
And then Leia came, her cunt spasming around his fingers, her mouth making a desperate little noise Han could tell would've been a lot louder if they'd been somewhere more private.
If only.
He gave her nipple a gentle kiss before leaving her breast, could feel an extra little aftershock on his fingers when he did. Slowly, carefully, he moved his fingers out of her and his hand out of her underwear.
Leia was beautiful, flushed and breathless. Han wanted to pause, to watch her for a few moments more, but it was cold in here, and it wouldn't last, so he tried to remember this scene: Leia, warm, lovely, nearly limp after coming in his arms.
For a minute he didn't know what to do with his fingers, whether to scent his shirt with her or taste her or what.
Leia, regaining control, grabbed his hand and decided for him, letting his fingers trace over the pulse point on her neck, then guiding his hand to his mouth.
"You said," he said, after he'd sucked her off his fingers. She tasted wonderful.
Leia smiled, those luminous brown eyes on his. Fuck.
"Thank you," she said. "I'd return the favor, but—"
He let himself grin. He understood. "No time. I got it. S'all right."
He'd have to linger here a bit, unless he wanted to walk through the halls of Echo Base with a raging hard-on. His parka would hide most of it, it would just be uncomfortable as hell.
"Another time," Leia suggested, her crisp tone an ironic contrast with the fact that her snowsuit was still unzipped to the waist, her camisole slightly askew, a few love marks standing out against her skin, although her nipple was no longer exposed.
"Sure," he said. The suggestion of more was not helping his condition, but Han tried to remain cool despite that. He'd promised a no-strings good time, and delivered, and had enjoyed it a hell of a lot in the process. Hells if he was going to ruin it now by running his mouth.
Leia quickly got herself back together, although something seemed off about her appearance. Oh, right.
"You got your lipstick with you?" Han asked.
She seemed glad for the reminder. She pulled the tube with that familiar color out of a side pocket he didn't even know she had, then quickly applied it, popping a slender finger into her mouth and sliding it out to prevent lipstick from ending up on her teeth.
You look good with something in your mouth, too, Han thought, but didn't say. It really was a miracle his mind was working at all right now.
"Am I good?" she asked, tilting her head up as if for inspection, evidently trusting Han to stand in for a mirror. She looked like everyday Leia again, but more vibrant, a touch more color in her cheeks, all evidence of what they'd just done hidden beneath her snowsuit.
Gods, he wanted to kiss her again, but that would fuck up her lipstick, so he settled for reaching out to remove a light smudge of color from the divot above her upper lip.
"Very good," he said, and Leia returned his grin with one of her own, looking like she'd gotten away with something.
She had. And Han couldn't be happier about it.
(Well, maybe slightly happier. Another time.)