Sleeping Together
by CorellianBlue
(first published 2020)
Warnings: language; adult content
Leia loved watching Han sleep.
With his impish hazel eyes closed and the lopsided smile absent from his face, he lost the attitude and the confidence. He looked boyish; not over ten years older than she was; not a smuggler and mercenary; not the man he pretended to be. He simply looked like Han, the man she she loved.
Leia scrunched the pillow up under her head as she lay on her side beneath the covers, adjusting her position so she could more fully appreciate the man asleep next to her. Diffused in soft light from the night-dimmed glowpanels, he mirrored her position: on his side facing her, his lower arm reaching towards her, hand open, while his other arm draped across his stomach and onto the bunk's bottom sheet.
The sharpness of his features had softened. His thick hair, more unruly than when he was awake, lay rumpled across his forehead, sticking up from the top of his head and out from his ears. Mouth slightly open, full bottom lip relaxed, his breathing deep and steady.
He swallowed, drawing her gaze to the laryngeal prominence, the simple form of cartilage that was responsible for the deep, toe-curling rumble of his voice. It was a treasure she loved and enjoyed kissing in eternal gratitude.
Han slept naked, and now Leia also slept naked. It made it easier to touch and caress each other, to feel each other's warmth, and to slip into the inevitable sessions of lovemaking they regularly and eagerly engaged in. After such a short time since they had taken to sharing a bunk on this long, slow flight to Bespin, Leia had grown accustomed to the intense looks, sexual banter or spirited play between them that led to exploration, discovery, pleasure and release.
The bunk's top sheet rested across Han's hip and she raked her eyes down what she could see of his body: long and lean; lightly muscled shoulders, chest and arms; firm plane of abdomen and narrow waist; sparse, coarse hair of his groin; the softly sleeping form of his cock giving no sign of the shape and firmness it could achieve when aroused.
Watching him like this, Leia felt the undeniable liquid rush from her stomach down to her core. She relished the way he made her feel, relished being able to act on her instincts and give in to her more basic urges. Only a few days ago, she had struggled to ignore the powerful effect he had on her, had been struggling with it—struggling with him—for over ten Standard months. Now they were sleeping together, she was free to do whatever and whenever she wanted with him, particularly as he brazenly encouraged her.
In their bunk, she witnessed him snore, mumble, groan and speak her name in his sleep. She heard his bones crack and pop, his stomach rumble with hunger, as well as other more amusing and less pleasant sounds and smells that invariably came with a man.
Asleep, Han looked innocent and vulnerable. The shadow of stubble across his jaw and upper lip, the feral slash of scar across his chin, hinting at the danger and intensity that lay within him. Exposed to her gaze, he was unguarded, defenceless—naked in every sense. It was only because she was sleeping with him that Leia had the privilege to see him like this.
Leia had never seriously considered what it meant to sleep with someone—physically sleep as opposed to having sex with them. On ground-based missions with the Alliance, she had slept in close quarters with both Han and Luke, usually bunked out in some uncomfortable place, but that hadn't been the same as what she was currently doing with Han. Granted, on those missions she had surreptitiously watched Han while he was sleeping, but they hadn't been entwined in each other's embrace, as much as she might have wished for them to be.
Leia now knew that sleeping with someone attached you to that person, as if you belonged to each other, sharing the most personal of spaces. For her and Han, sleeping in the same bunk enhanced their intimacy, strengthened the bond between them. It affirmed and validated their relationship, helped them to realise that nobody else knew or accepted them so comprehensively as the other did. Sleep, it seemed, could be more intimate than sex.
This time between them was precious and essential, particularly so early in this stage of their relationship. And now there was nothing else for them to do but sleep and make love, it appeared to have a compounding effect. Their needs, both physical and emotional, were being more than satisfied. Spontaneous sexual pleasure was a wonderful benefit of sleeping together, but there was more to it than that.
In bed, they could touch each other in a way no one else touched them, in a way no one else saw; a pleasure that they exclusively shared and revelled in.
Touching Han in bed, Leia became more attuned to him, enhancing her comprehension of his feelings and perspectives. She now knew how a simple look or word from her could turn him on or hurt him deeply, and realised that she had been actively doing both to him since she had met him. It shamed her to think that sometimes she had deliberately set out to upset and rile him, a futile effort to push him away, to test his ability to put up with her indifference, her outright hostility towards him. And yet he'd stuck around waiting for her to wake up to the fact that the man she loved had been right under her nose all this time. His persistence and sheer obstinance were both frightening and endearing.
Cuddling and snuggling with Han in bed was a newfound joy for Leia, and quickly established a casual familiarity between them. Leia felt closer to him, reassured that he deeply cared for her. It provided stability, security and permanence to the feelings they had for one another.
Leia savoured the contact of his skin on hers, the warmth of his body; the knowledge that he was never further than an arm's length away; that if she needed comfort, companionship or love she only had to roll over and he would be there, waiting for her, like he always had been.
She and Han had never talked more to each other than they had in bed. The lines of communication between them were clear and open, extending outside the privacy of their cabin. Regularly, their conversations gathered a head of sexual steam and led to more physical expressions of their intimacy. But they had also readily and candidly revealed their thoughts, hopes and desires.
Leia had revealed that she was thankful their relationship had taken this path, that she was undeniably infatuated with him, and that being this close to him was an incredible experience. Han had eagerly admitted that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, that he was afraid of losing what they had, and had pledged he'd be anything she wanted him to be, which had sounded awfully like a man prepared to commit himself to her.
Perhaps not surprisingly, Han had also admitted he'd never had sex on the Falcon before her, had never allowed another woman to share his bunk or his life. And yet here he was, readily sharing everything he owned with her: his clothes, his bunk, his cabin—his toothbrush. Leia felt as if they also shared each other's body, heart and soul.
Leia wondered if Han's previous relationships with women had not gone anywhere because he had never physically slept with them after having sex. She could picture him in the guise of the distrustful, immoral smuggler he pretended to be, leaving a woman's bed before he got too involved with her; casually having sex wherever and whenever it was offered, but not prepared to take the final step that would have left him vulnerable to either emotional commitment or the cold muzzle of a blaster jammed into his ribs. It sounded like a lonely and unpleasant existence.
The amazing benefit of sleeping with Han was that Leia slept better now than she had for years. Their bunk offered her a sanctuary from the torment of nightmares, as well the over-analysis and over-thinking she conducted as a form of self-evaluation. Sleeping with Han left no time for introspection. Her sleep was deep and restful, her mind relaxed, calm and focused—apart from the focus required to continue her obsession with Han.
Leia had also paid interest to the way they slept together.
After they had sex, Leia usually snoozed in Han's arms, her cheek nestled against his chest, her fingers playing with the hair she found there, one of her legs entwined between his as his hand smoothed across her shoulder and back. The position was comforting and reaffirming, expressing thanks for the pleasure and intimacy they had once again shared.
When they intended sleeping for longer periods, they started in a spooning position, his chest against her back, his groin against her backside, the front of his thighs hooked behind hers. It was a position that was sensual for them both, and yet sexually vulnerable for her. But Leia felt nothing but safe, secure, adored and loved with Han protectively wrapped around her like this.
Invariably during their sleep, and because she needed to escape from his intense body heat, they would unwind from each other and roll over to their respective side of the bunk and resume sleeping back to back, rears touching, as they settled into a relaxed and comfortable sleep. If they drifted too far apart in the bunk, one of them would reach a hand across to the other to maintain the connection.
The other curiosity was the way they had decided which side of the double-width bunk they slept on, without having discussed it. Leia was on the side, against the bulkhead. Han slept on the edge, open to the rest of the cabin. Although Leia felt more comfortable against the bulkhead, it meant she had to climb over him when she had to get up to use the 'fresher, a tactic she suspected he had deliberately employed as he took great pleasure in touching or tickling her when the opportunity arose.
Sleeping together, Leia decided, was more than 'sleeping together'. More than fucking the sweet life out of each other after months of repressed sexual tension, as wonderful as that was. Neither of them had taken the next step and revealed exactly what it was they were talking about. Neither of them had declared their love for the other but in her heart, Leia knew she loved Han and that he loved her in return.
For once, Leia was being honest with herself. She acknowledged that while she did love Han, a small part of her was still expecting him to leave; he had been threatening to do so for three years, even if those threats never resulted in any action. Although Han's more recent words suggested he was prepared to stay with the Alliance, if only because he wanted to be with her, she was waiting for him to tell her that directly, not couch it in cute-speak and innuendo.
As Leia watched him, Han's eyes slowly flickered open. He took a moment to focus, before a small smile crept across his face. She returned his smile. From what Leia had noticed, Han usually woke up smiling when he saw she was still in bed with him.
"'M sorry," he mumbled, groggily rubbing a knuckle into his eye.
Leia shuffled over so she could rest her palm against his hand that pointed towards her, her fingers stretched around the bones of his wrist.
"Why's that?" she softly asked.
"Fell asleep," he offered, his tone suggesting she was being gentle on him and he deserved to be rebuked. "Said I'd never do that to you."
"I must've worn you out," she teased, squeezing his arm, "old man."
He sighed and rolled back slightly, supporting his weight on his bent knee and giving her a better view of his body as the sheet slipped off his hip. "You're obviously too much for me, Princess."
"Never," she chided.
He tilted his chin at her. "What you doin' all the way over there? C'mere. I'm feeling lonely."
He reached his free arm across her torso and pulled her out and away from the covers and towards him, close enough so that their knees were touching. His top arm rested lazily, almost possessively, over her side. The warmth of his body was both soothing and invigorating, and she adjusted the covers back over them both.
Even in the dim lighting, Leia could see the different colours that made up the hazel of his eyes: green, gold, brown and a fleck or two of blue. She had long ago decided that his eyes were his best feature. And his bottom lip. And his long fingers. And perhaps the prominent point where his clavicle met his right shoulder.
"Sorry," he told her again.
Leia touched his cheek. "It's all right. I thought we had agreed to go to sleep."
He frowned. "We had?"
"You don't remember?"
He gave her a dreamy smile and sighed. "Musta still been under your spell."
"Hmm," she considered, "too much sex for you if it's doing your head in."
"Not enough," he protested. "Never enough. I'm playing catch up here. Gotta get back all those times you played with yourself while you were thinking of me."
Only a few hours ago, Leia had admitted to Han that she used to think about him when she masturbated, at least for the last ten months or so. And then she had shown him how that used to go for her. She was grateful that her lonely nights of self-stimulation were now long behind her, particularly if Han had anything to do with it.
Leia smirked at him. "I don't think there's enough parsecs between here and Bespin for that. I was 'at it' on a regular basis."
He rolled his eyes and pulled an anguished face. "Don't do that to me, Leia. You'll drive me nuts just thinkin' about it."
"I know," she grinned.
He ran his fingers up her arm, polished her shoulder with his palm. "If we're s'posed to be asleep, what were you doin' awake?"
She dropped her head to the sleeping pallet and snuggled her head towards his face, closing her eyes as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. He moved his leg and pulled her closer, allowing her to drape her upper arm over his hip and slide her thigh between both of his.
"Watching you sleep," she confessed.
He made a soft, satisfied hum deep in his throat, and she decided she wanted to find a way to make him make that sound again.
"You look so peaceful when you're sleeping. All soft and mushy."
He nudged her temple with his nose, kissed her forehead again. "I am peaceful and soft and mushy. Don't think I know one end of a blaster from the other. And I blame you entirely."
"I won't tell a soul." She moved her head slightly, brushing her nose against his and settled again. "Can't have your reputation being ruined."
"I'm a lost cause," he agreed. "Probably get kicked outta the Spacers Guild at this rate."
"Ask you to hand in your membership card to the Cynical Mercenaries Club?"
He made an appreciative noise in his mouth. "Exactly. And those guys don't play nice."
She spread the fingers of the hand she had placed on his hip and stroked across and upwards to the small of his back. "So, we'll need to find you something else to do."
"Do you," he suggested. "I could always do you."
She pointed out, "You already are, Sweetheart. And that's not a job."
"Not from your end, maybe, but you should see it from this side." He quickly added, "Not that I'm complain'…"
"Just as well."
He smoothed his cheek against hers, a sensual caress that she returned, the rasp of his stubble cracking over her skin. Leia deepened the sweep of her face against his, pushing into the line of his jaw, his nose bumping into her ear.
"You wanna go back to sleep," he rumbled, "or you wanna fuck?"
Leia pulled back to look at him fondly and with wry amusement. "You certainly know how to sweet-talk a woman, Han."
He shrugged a shoulder. "Cuttin' to the chase."
Leia slipped her hand between them, placed it on his groin; her gentle grope confirming her suspicions. "I don't think you're up to it."
"I can get up to it, if you'd like me to get up to it. Didn't want to get my hopes up if you're not interested."
She stroked the backs of her fingers down his cheek. He kissed her fingers as they passed over his lips.
"Why don't we cuddle, then go back to sleep and you can save yourself for later."
He nodded, apparently relaxed with her suggestion. There were many more hours to Bespin, many more opportunities to make love. A sleepy fumble in bed would be no great loss to either of them.
Leia kissed Han on the lips—a kiss good night—then rolled over in his arms. They assumed the sleep-spoon position: his chin behind her head, chest to back, groin to backside, legs angled together. He splayed his hand across her stomach, and she covered it with her own.
Leia closed her eyes, enjoying the way he continued rubbing his cheek against hers, dropping soft kisses against her skin after each up-and-down movement.
"I thought we were going back to sleep," she lightly accused.
Han didn't miss a beat. "We are. I'm already asleep. Just dreaming of this beautiful woman in my arms."
Leia's heart twinged. How could she not love this man, when he was obviously so deeply in love with her. Still, needing further reassurance, she decided to prod him on the commitment front again.
She ventured, "I may have to request a suite with a large bunk when I return to the Fleet. At least until we deploy to a new base."
Han slid his cheek back from hers, placed his lips near her ear. "This is your cabin now too, you know. I don't wanna sleep here without you. Don't think I'll be able to."
He's getting there. Slowly, surely, by increments, he was getting there.
As she drifted off to sleep in his arms, Leia felt Han's breath through her hair, heard him whisper, "I love you, Leia."
I love you, too, she thought.
It was her turn to make the next move.
A/N: Apologies for the lack of smut. Maybe next time...
This was a quickie to write. Hope it is enjoyed.