Call Me By My Name
by Kat Roland
Chapter 1
Leia stormed up the ramp of the Falcon, Ensign Melor's words still ringing in her ears. She stopped in the main hold, hands on her hips, turning her head to glare in all directions.
Han stepped out of the cockpit and sized her up. "Princess?" he asked, nonplussed at her manner.
He had certainly seen her angry before, but they hadn't spoken since he had returned from a supply run yesterday and he couldn't begin guess why she was in this state. He ran through their recent interactions in his mind, trying to recover one that would explain her demeanor.
She turned to him, hands still on hips, and glowered at him. Your bossy mode, he had once teased her.
"Do you want me?" she demanded.
"Do I want you to what, Princess?" he shot back, still at a loss as to why she was here.
The use of her title again made her even angrier.
"Princess!" she exploded. "Do you use my name with everyone else except me?"
He narrowed his eyes and took a step closer to her. "What are you talking about?"
She was breathing hard, her eyes flashing. "I asked you if you wanted me," she repeated stonily.
He stood up straight now, the intent of her question slowly filtering into his brain. Was she serious? Or was this some new game she had come up with to toy with him even more?
He took a breath, going with his first instinct. "Yeah, I want you. Thought I was makin' that obvious."
She tossed her head at him. "Then why are you saying my name — my name — to other —." She stopped, her arm waving in the direction of the hangar.
Realization hit him and he flinched. Gods, he remembered how awful it was, saying her name while he was with someone else, embarrassing for both of them, any relief he could have obtained from that night out of reach after that.
They were quiet for a few breaths, bodies tense across the hold.
"How many times?" she asked, her anger subsiding slightly.
"Once or twice," he swallowed. Twice. It wasn't something he was likely to miscount. "Not for a while. I haven't — been with anyone else for a while."
His choice of words didn't escape her. "Anyone else?" she repeated, sarcasm mingling with hurt.
He stepped forward. "Leia. Leia." She blinked at him and he took advantage of her silence to plow on ahead. "I've wanted you for a long time. Thought you knew that. Thought you—," he paused, not sure now what he thought, couldn't say definitively one way or the other if she wanted him in return.
Anger and frustration seeped back into her. "Well, you have a really terrible way of showing it!" she threw at him. "You should be saying my name to me."
Her words, or something in her manner, or maybe just the fact that she was still standing on his ship, encouraged him further. He took another step closer, now within arms' reach of her.
"And what about you?" he challenged. "You say my name when you're with someone else?"
She drew herself up. "I haven't been with anyone," she spat out. "Here," she amended quickly, lest he think she was completely inexperienced.
He nodded, relief coursing through him even though a part of him knew it was unfair to feel that way. He took the last step and raised a hand, gently grazing her jaw with his fingers, his thumb brushing lightly over her lips.
"And when you're alone?" he asked gruffly. "Do you say my name then?"
She closed her eyes, suddenly lightheaded from his words and his touch, her defenses collapsing. "Yes," she whispered.
Her eyes were still closed but she knew, knew, that he was nodding in satisfaction, a hungry look on his face. His fingers stroked her cheek.
"Say it."
She opened her mouth automatically, resistance no longer an option now that he was touching her like that. "Han."
"Again."
"Han," louder, more urgent this time.
He didn't say anything. She could feel the heat of his body and then his breath on her ear.
"If you like," his voice low and smooth, "I'll make you come so hard that you won't be able to say anything at all."
Her body jerked and his fingers splayed over her lower back, supporting her. She heard him draw another breath.
"And then I'll do it again and again. Any way you want."
She opened her eyes and stared up at him in a stupor. She felt herself nod and tilted her chin up slightly. Her last conscious thought was that his lips were warm and firm and felt so good against hers.
Minutes later she was on her back in his bunk, arms flung over her head. His tongue was flicking her clit, his fingers fucking her hard as she screamed her release wordlessly.
When she finally came to, he was on his hands and knees looking down at her. "Told ya," he grinned and before she could protest, silenced her again with his mouth.
The kiss was simultaneously tender and insistent. They separated and he brushed his lips against her cheek, her hairline. "You're so arrogant," she murmured, too sated to put any bite into her words.
"Mm hmm," he agreed, nodding against her head. "Worked out in your favor, though."
She felt him hard and hot against her thigh and snaked her hand down to grasp him, sliding her fingers to the tip and then back down. He let out a shuddering groan. "Leia."
"Come here," she whispered, and nudged him against her opening. His fingers brushed against hers as he positioned himself and then slipped under to cup her bottom, his body suddenly still.
"Look at me," he commanded, and she tilted her head up to catch his eyes, hungry and desperate and focused on hers.
He thrust into her sharply and she gasped at the invasion. The fullness threatened to overwhelm her until her body adjusted, ratcheting down the residual stimulation from her orgasm. Her eyes closed involuntarily as he settled into a steady rhythm.
His hand moved from her buttocks down to her center, rubbing her above where they were joined. She jerked, the nerves still tender.
His fingers stilled. "Too soon?"
She nodded against his neck.
"Later, then." She could feel him tense above her, knew that with a second climax out of reach, he no longer needed to delay his own release.
She drew her hand through his hair to the back of his neck and pressed down on the base. "Say it," she whispered.
He moaned above her. "Leia. Leia."
Her teeth tugged at the skin under his ear. "You can do better than that."
He groaned again, his breath ragged, his body coiled tight. "Fuck, baby," he gasped, and her stomach dropped at the unexpected endearment.
His thrusts sped up and soft tremors rolled outward from her center, heightened by the increasing wildness of his movements. She heard her name over and over as he spilled into her, holding her tight against him.
Afterward they curled up on their sides facing each other, legs threaded together. She placed soft kisses on his shoulder and across his collarbone, her nose nuzzling his neck. His hand lifted her chin to kiss her and then trailed down, cupping her breast. As his thumb brushed her nipple, she broke away from his mouth, arching her back and leaning into his hand.
They stayed like that for a while, Han watching her reactions carefully as his thumb and finger ministered patiently to the erect nub.
"You got another one in you?" he murmured, his hand moving down to her sex.
She nodded, her breath quickening, and slid her knee higher to encourage his explorations.
He hummed in the back of his throat, his fingers tracing light circles around her clit, dipping down to where their fluids mixed. She curved around herself, resting her head under his chin, everything else floating away except for the feeling of his fingers on her.
"Could do this all night," he whispered, the circles narrowing tighter and tighter over her nerves.
She gripped his bicep as her hips thrust faster, her climax near, as if in her body's peripheral vision.
"Han," she gasped. "Harder. Now. Han."
He obeyed and she shuddered violently in response, sharp pleasure shooting out from her core. After the searing receded, waves of warmth continued to flood her body and radiate to the tips of her fingers and toes.
Long minutes later, the sensation of liquid seeping out of her forced her out of bed. On her way back from the fresher, she admired his long legs and lean body tangled in the sheets, unable to resist smiling back at his crooked grin as he propped his head up to ogle her.
She settled next to him, head on his chest, and his arms encircled her, rubbing her back gently.
"Stay," he whispered. "I'll make you kaffe in the morning."
She didn't respond, didn't want to decide anything. For once she refused to think, refused to plan more than the next few minutes in front of her. Her hand tightened against his side and she drew her leg up over his. Han wrestled with a blanket wedged between the bunk and the wall and eventually pulled it over them, taking her silence for agreement.
The next thing she was aware of was an unfamiliar shifting behind her. Through the fogginess of sleep, she remembered where she was and and became slowly aware of Han's hand spanning her stomach and his small controlled bucks against her buttocks.
Instinct took over and she reached behind her and grasped him, soft skin sliding over his impossibly hard organ. He hissed into her hair and the hand on her stomach slipped between her thighs, lifting her top leg over his.
The angle was awkward and she leaned forward, separating her top half from him so she could tilt her hips back against his pelvis. He thrust into her at the same moment his finger came firmly on her clit. She cried out and her body spasmed before he pulled her back to him with his other arm.
In her half-awake state, she felt any residual control slipping away. Her body reacted violently to him, her ass pressing against his hips to encourage him even more. His fingers danced on her nerves while the heel of his palm covered her mound, keeping him from sliding out of her.
"That's right, baby" he growled behind her. "You like it like this?"
"Gods, yes, Han," she moaned, the baby affecting her much as it did hours ago. Never had she thought that such a ridiculous word as applied to her could drive her arousal to such heights.
She pressed her forehead into the pillow as his movements rotated them toward the mattress. His knees pushed her legs apart further, and his arm snaked under her to pull her against his chest. With their weight on their elbows and knees, Han's thrusts were fiercer as he started to tremble against her. Her moans became higher-pitched as his fingers rubbed her faster and harder. She came, keening, her orgasm blinding her with its suddenness and intensity. Seconds later, a raw fuck emanated from him in his release.
They both collapsed on the mattress, Han rolling to his side to keep his weight off her. She realized that she was shaking, the final tremors of her climax still lingering in her limbs.
"Kest," Han grunted. "You're —." The word hung there, as he caught his breath, his hand gripping the pale skin of her hip and thigh.
She managed to turn onto her back and looked up at him, her eyes wide. "I'm what?"
"Incredible. Beautiful. Sexy." He lowered his forehead to hers. "Always thought about you like this."
She smiled, her fingers brushing his hair away from his face. "You did, did you?"
He pulled them onto their sides facing each other. "All the time. Couldn't help it."
"I thought about you too," she confessed, her fingertips tracing the muscles of his chest down to his abdomen.
"You'll have to tell me more about that sometime," he murmured.
"Mmm," she responded noncommittally. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Damn right," he chuckled.
She sighed deeply and tilted her face up to kiss him softly. "I should go. I have an early meeting."
He glanced at the chrono. "It's only oh-five-thirty. I promised you kaffe."
She smiled. "All right. One quick cup."
Twenty minutes later she emerged from his cabin, hair in a damp braid, wearing her clothes from the night before. Han handed her a steaming mug and kissed the corner of her mouth.
She looked at him, at his rumpled hair, his morning stubble, and ran her hand down the wiry hair of his forearm. What had she done, she thought, to end up like this with him, a handsome, infuriating, loyal smuggler who had happened to be in the right place at the right time.
As if he could read her thoughts, he pulled her gently onto the curved booth that hugged the faded Holochess table. She leaned into his side as his arm encircled her, his index finger drawing lazily on the back of her hand.
"Never thought I'd be in this position with a Princess," he drawled into her hair.
"Liar," she laughed. "You said you thought about this all the time."
"Well, yeah," he admitted, shifting a bit in the booth, "but somehow the reality is much, ah, fuller than the fantasy. It hits you," he struggled to explain. "In a good way."
He looked a little helpless, and she guessed he wasn't practiced at talking about his feelings. Han was a man of action, a doer, and that was a big part of why she liked him. He invigorated her, drew her out of the depths of her sorrow and regret, and although her initial reaction had been to resent that intrusion, over time she had begun to see how necessary it was.
She stretched up to kiss his cheek. "I think I know what you mean," she said softly. Glancing at her chrono, she sipped her kaffe again and then put the mug down. "I have to go."
He tugged her hand as she stood, looking up at her impishly. "'Til next time, Sweetheart."
