Domestic Bliss: Chapter 7
Sound and Silence
By Erin Darroch and Justine Graham
This was an image that would be forever etched in Han's memory: the sight of Leia waiting for him, completely bare, her slender body bathed in the pale silver light streaming through the tall, curtainless windows of the living room, while on the other side of the glass the darkness deepened and the storm raged on. Even if he lived to be as old as Chewie, Han decided, he would never forget the glimpse of her alluring figure, so supple and beautifully feminine, with her long hair, still damp, falling tangled and wild down her back. Intermittent flickers of lightning gave her pale curves an ethereal glow that seemed to persist for a heartbeat afterwards, leaving her skin glimmering faintly even in the dull intervals.
This vision was one of a thousand other mental snapshots he'd taken over the years and his brain sifted through that inventory now, as it often did when adding a new one to his collection. There was something especially satisfying about comparing this view of Leia—relaxed and waiting for him without a stitch of clothing on—to the other images he hoarded in memory. They'd endured many uncertain and painful moments in their fractious courtship, but a moment like this made all those difficulties seem immaterial, forgotten as readily as a dream at dawn. He stood poised at the edge of the sunken living room for a moment longer, appreciating both the beauty of the scene and the somewhat surreal sensation of being lucky enough to witness it. He filed the memory away, to be retrieved at some future date when they were light-years apart and he was grappling with emotions he still found a little strange, like loneliness and longing. Smiling to himself, he turned away and began navigating carefully through the dark apartment, sensing more than seeing his way to the environmental control panel embedded in the wall near the main door.
Although he'd wrapped a towel around his hips, he found the air outside the fresher more than a little cool on the rest of his exposed skin. A few quick taps of the controls, he thought, and he should be able to feel the heating elements under the floor kicking in to warm the soles of his bare feet. A few more taps and the ambient room temperature would rise, and make lounging around in the nude with Leia a little more comfortable—an enticing prospect that kept Han's ardor simmering hot, despite the chill air. He tapped on the panel a few more times and then squinted at it, trying to make out the controls in the faint light as he dimly wondered why the press of his fingers was having no effect. Then it dawned on him.
"Good idea, Laserbrain," Leia's rich alto floated to his ears, her voice loaded with amusement as she correctly surmised what he'd been trying to do. "But there's no electricity, remember?"
Grimacing in mild chagrin at his own mental lapse, Han chalked it up to a brain addled by thwarted lust, and headed back towards the living room, intent upon picking up with Leia where they'd left off. He stepped down into the lushly carpeted space and approached her position, smiling again at the sight of her bare and lovely figure. Even with the power out, there was enough ambient light filtering through the windows to allow him to make out her form and features, and he was already thinking about how much fun it was going to be finding his way around her body in the dark—and generating their own heat. Though his focus was on the princess, he couldn't help but notice the substantial mound of cushions and bedding that Concierge Gurk had delivered for their use; the collection had been carefully arranged in the center of the floor near where Leia stood, and it looked remarkably similar to a typical Drallan nesting burrow—albeit one fashioned from pale textiles instead of wood, bark and moss. Han quirked an eyebrow at the sight, but turned his attention back to Leia, keen to recapture the intimate mood they'd shared in the bath.
As she turned towards him, though, Leia crossed her arms over her chest and hugged her own shoulders, tilting her chin up and giving him a rueful smile. "I thought I'd be brave and just stroll around the place in the raw, like you do," she said, then dropped her gaze down to his towel-clad hips. Lifting her eyes to his again, she arched one fine eyebrow. "But it's colder out here than I expected, and now you appear to have had a sudden attack of modesty."
"Me?" Han gave her his best shocked expression. "Nah. I may be humble, sure. But modest? Never." In one smooth motion, he flicked the towel from around his hips and, with a flourish, wrapped it around her body.
Leia lifted her arms out of the way and smirked affectionately at him as he tucked in the overlapping edges of the towel above her breasts, and then gently pulled the trailing ends of her hair free at the back. Once she was snugly bundled up, Han drew her into his embrace and sighed with satisfaction as she slipped her arms around his bare waist and nestled into him, pressing her cheek against his chest.
"Too bad about the heating," he murmured. "I wanted to see you frolicking around the place in the buff for a while longer." He tightened his arms around her and pressed an emphatic kiss to the top of her head. "That's the best damn thing I've ever seen."
Leia gave a soft snort, her warm breath stirring the hair on his chest. "I've never frolicked in my life."
"No? Well, that's too bad, Princess," Han made a light tsk with his tongue and craned his neck around to catch her eye. "Maybe you should try it now," he suggested. "It'll warm you right up."
A low laugh bubbled up from Leia and she tilted her head back to peer up at him. "What do you know about frolicking?"
"You'd be surprised," Han teased. "I might even let you watch me frolic, once I get to know you a little better."
"And I thought I knew you so well already," Leia said in a mournful tone, though her dark eyes sparkled with amusement and her smile widened.
"Oh, you know me better'n anybody, Sweetheart, but...," he paused for effect and slanted another look down at her upturned face, "I gotta preserve a little mystery, you know. Keep you interested. And anyway," he ventured, "I bet there's still a few things I don't know about you."
"Maybe," she allowed. "But the list is getting shorter all the time, and I assure you that a secret love of frolicking around in the nude is not one of them. In fact," she mused aloud, "I don't suppose I've ever strolled around without clothes on unless I was getting into the shower..." Her voice trailed off on a note of mild wonder and her thoughtful gaze shifted away, as if that fact had only just become apparent to her.
"Not the kind of thing you'd do on base, I guess, considering the kind of climates we usually have to put up with," Han agreed. "And not the kind of thing you'd do on my ship either, apparently, despite my best efforts to talk you into it."
Leia laughed softly and burrowed a little deeper against his chest. Despite the dim light, Han could see that her skin was still flushed from the steaming heat of the bath, but it had begun to prickle as the chilly air leached the residual heat from her body. All that damp hair wasn't helping, either—the tangled strands clung to her skin, and tiny rivulets of water ran steadily down her back and her shoulders, dribbling onto Han's bare arms where they encircled her body.
A boom of thunder from outside gave them both a mild jolt and garnered Han's attention. Through the balcony windows, he could see the wrath of the wind and rain that still prevailed, driving heavy sheets of water against the glass that obscured all but the faintest glimpse of the outside. Far from subsiding, the storm seemed to have intensified during the time they'd been in the bath. In the brief moments when the sky wasn't ablaze with sporadic flashes of electricity, the normally brightly-lit harbor below appeared strangely darkened; it seemed the power outage extended all along the harborside. Only the faintest of residual light was visible, coming from the emergency lights along the boardwalk and dotted around the docks and marinas that jutted out into the water. As Han squinted to see through the bleary glass, another heavy hail of rain spattered against the surface, and he felt Leia shiver against him.
"C'mon, Sweetheart," he urged. "If we ain't gonna frolic, there's no sense standing here freezing." Releasing her, he stepped over to the makeshift bed, sank to a crouch, lifted the top edge of the layer of blankets and drew them back in invitation. "Get in," he said, jerking his chin toward the centre of the pallet. "But give me your towel first."
Leia glanced from Han to the mound of linens and back again—and then, holding his gaze, slowly unwrapped the towel from around herself and, for the briefest instant, held it wide. It was a fleeting but very intentional display of her bare body that set fire to Han's blood and sent it thrumming through his veins. He decided in that moment that there was nothing in the galaxy he loved more than Leia Organa deliberately enticing him. She dropped her brief pose, handed him the towel with a faint smile, and then moved past him into the padded nest. Han's heated gaze followed, roaming over her lissome figure as she moved, and he felt his ache for her intensify.
Words in his native tongue sprang to mind, phrases he could never seem to articulate to her in Basic. Even if he could, he thought, their true meaning would probably be lost in translation. Raw, lusty, carnal expressions flickered through his thoughts, sentiments he held back in these moments of anticipation, but which seemed to spill out of him unchecked in the throes of passion. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, feeling the urge to tell her now—how good she looked, what he wanted to do to her, what he wanted her to do to him—but he held his tongue. They had plenty of time to get to that point, he figured; it was still early in the evening and they had the whole night ahead of them. Reining in his desire to drag her down with him into the nest of pillows, he moved into the perimeter of the roughly circular structure, stepping carefully on the thickly piled textiles, and positioned himself at her back. Leia was still standing, having paused to gather her damp hair over one shoulder as she prepared to sit. She twisted halfway around to look at him.
"What are you doing?"
"Gonna dry your hair," Han replied, and then motioned for her to turn around. "You can't sleep with it like that, can you? Take a seat."
"Who said anything about sleeping?" Leia teased, though she followed his directive and settled down, cross-legged, in the middle of the cozy pallet.
Han sank down to his knees behind her, and then sat back on his heels and reached for her hair with both hands, sweeping it back over the curve of her shoulder to spill down the length of her back once more. "Well, we are going to sleep...eventually," Han said, weighting the last word with promise as he gathered the heavy locks in his hands. "But I haven't lived with a Wookiee for over ten years without learning a little bit about what happens to long hair when it gets wet and you don't comb it out. Although, I gotta say, your hair smells a lot better than Chewie's."
"Wait," Leia twisted around again and stared at him, her eyes alight with amusement. "Are you telling me you've—"
Han stopped her with a mock scowl and a sternly pointed index finger. "That's another thing we don't talk about," he said, and then grinned as Leia erupted in pealing laughter, her head dropping back for a moment as she gave herself up to mirth. Making Leia laugh like that—so freely and with genuine glee—was another favorite thing right up at the top of Han's list. Leaning around, he cradled the side of her head in one hand and kissed the corner of her smiling mouth, then motioned again for her to face forward. "Alright, turn around and let me get started before I come to my senses and forget about your hair altogether."
Leia's laughter subsided, though a smile still danced in her eyes as she obeyed his request, turning to sit straight-backed in front of his knees with her hands resting loosely in her lap.
Taking up the towel, Han wrapped it around a narrow section of hair and held it firmly between his clasped hands, soaking up the excess water, squeezing and blotting gently from the roots down to the ends. He took his time, combing the damp strands lightly with his fingers to separate them after he'd removed as much moisture as possible, enjoying the companionable silence that settled between them. It was a novel and altogether pleasant experience for Han to have utterly free time on his hands, a long span of hours without even the demands of his ship or space travel to meet, and with no plans other than to spend time with Leia and, perhaps, to run a few domestic errands in the day ahead. He smiled inwardly at the thought of shopping for a bed—and perhaps a mirror—for their bedroom, and let his mind drift away in speculation over just how much he could get away with before Leia called it tacky and reined him in.
After a long, quiet interlude during which he continued to work his way methodically through her hair, Leia's head lolled back and her eyes fluttered shut. "General Solo, you've made a tactical error," she sighed, and then languorously straightened her posture again.
Bemused, Han quirked an eyebrow behind her back. "I have?"
"Mm-hm. Now that I know how nice it is to have you attend to my hair," she murmured, sounding relaxed to the point of drowsiness, "I may need you to do it every night." She sighed again. "You'd have to quit your day job, though, and stick close to me. No more roaming around the galaxy, fighting bad guys."
Han grinned, though she couldn't see his expression. "Just say the word, Sweetheart." He lifted the next section of hair and gently separated it from the rest. "My services don't come cheap, y'know. But for you...I think I could offer a pretty good rate."
"Surely I would qualify for a substantial discount?" Leia said with a soft laugh. Relaxing into his attentions, she uncrossed her legs and edged her hips backward by degrees. Han shifted his kneeling stance and parted his thighs, allowing her to reverse until the swell of her bottom was pressed against the crux of his body, mirroring the comfortable and intimate position they had so recently shared in the bubbling bliss of the whirlpool. The touch of Leia's bare skin against his own—and her obvious desire to be as close to him as possible—gave Han a jolt of pleasure and sent a rush of heat streaking southward, and he realized then that his earlier resolve to show some self-restraint was probably shaky at best. Stilling his hands for a moment, he gave in to his craving and lowered his lips to the soft skin of Leia's shoulder, and then slowly trailed a string of heated kisses all the way up the angle of her neck, smiling as she tilted her head to one side to facilitate his progress.
"I might even be persuaded to do it for free," he murmured as he nuzzled behind her ear, delighting in the shiver elicited by his touch.
"Oh?" Leia asked, sounding both amused and a little breathless. "And just what would I need to do to persuade you?"
Han smiled against her ear. "Gimme a minute. I'm sure I can think of something."
From his vantage point, looking down over her shoulder, he had an enticing view of her breasts, their lovely contours limned in watery silver light, and intermittently illuminated by flickers of lightning. Nudging her cheek with his nose, he scraped his teeth lightly across her earlobe and watched in fascination as her skin prickled and her nipples stiffened in response. She shivered and moved restlessly between his knees again, brushing against him and sending another tantalizing wave of pleasure arcing through his body. It was getting difficult to concentrate on the task at hand, but Han forced himself to sit back and made his hands resume their ministrations while his body grew taut with anticipation.
He continued working through Leia's hair until most of the moisture had been wicked away, and then bundled up the damp towel and tossed it to the side. Then, with Leia's supple body swaying between his thighs, he buried his fingers into the crown of her hair and began massaging her scalp with gentle pressure, carefully smoothing out the tangles as he worked his way down from the roots. He repeated the motion, allowing his fingertips to trace the whole shape of her head as he progressed, revisiting the unique contours he'd explored earlier while washing her hair, and committing every centimeter of her skull to tactile memory. He smiled at the predictability of her responses when he deliberately grazed the most sensitive places: the crescents behind her delicate ears and the little divot just above the soft nape of her neck. Seducing Leia—even when she was already clearly in the mood—was by far his favorite pastime these days, and he very much enjoyed learning new ways to do it. His present efforts were having the desired effect, too, judging by her faint groans of approval. When she spoke, her voice was so soft he could barely hear it above the spatter of rain against the windows and the muffled, eerie howling of the wind.
"On second thought, Flyboy, if you take the job, you can name your price," she murmured.
Han grinned and contemplated that offer for a moment.
"Tell you what," he ventured, continuing the movement of his fingers but leaning in a little closer to her back, enjoying the cool, silky rustle of her hair against his abdomen. "I'll keep going, but my price is...you gotta tell me one of those secrets you promised. More of what you like."
Leia was silent for a moment. "Like...watching you strip?" she queried at length.
Although Han couldn't see her face, he could hear her smile. He grinned in response. "Sure," he affirmed, and then added, "Or things you think you might like…. "
Angling her body around slightly, Leia slanted a look over her shoulder at him, her dark eyes glinting in the dim light. "We tried one of those already," she pointed out.
"What, the hot tub?" Had scoffed. "Nah, that doesn't count. You didn't enjoythat."
Leia turned back around, giving a little hum of acknowledgement. "Oh, I enjoyed it very much...for a little while," she said with a tinge of amusement. "And you did try to warn me..."
"Well, it's worth trying things out for yourself, right?" Satisfied that the roots of her hair had been sufficiently smoothed, Han raked his splayed fingers downwards, pulling through the full length of her thick tresses with a light touch and gentle traction, relishing the novel sensation of the strands unraveling and separating between his fingers as they slipped through the gaps like filaments of the finest unspun Demicot silk. The longest ends of her hair hung down to graze the skin of his thighs and groin, sweeping against the bare flesh there. The effect was much like the one he'd experienced earlier, as her hair swirled and floated around him in the bath. The sensation created an intriguing pleasure that heightened his ardor tenfold.
"What else do you like, Sweetheart?" he whispered. Some intuition told him that Leia—a woman who ordinarily never faltered when it came to making her wishes known—was finding it difficult to put her more intimate desires into words. Deciding that she could use a little more encouragement, he dipped his head down and murmured in her ear, "If you're not going to tell me, I'm just going to have to experiment."
Tilting her face to his, Leia's dark lashes flickered up as she met his gaze sidelong, though she remained mute. She didn't seem ready to voice her desires explicitly—not just yet—but Han could read the craving in her eyes plainly enough. He held her gaze and felt a rush of anticipation flowing through him, a powerful surge that intensified the ache in his groin and made his skin feel hot. Leia enjoyed the little games they played with each other as much as he did, and he recognized the sparkle that flashed in her eyes and the faint smile that played on her lips as she turned her face away once more. That eloquent look was a wordless challenge: give it your best shot.
Han was more than happy to oblige. Lowering his head, he pressed a row of open-mouthed kisses down along the angle of her neck and across the contour of her shoulder, and then flicked his eyes upwards to gauge Leia's reaction. She sat with her hands resting lightly in her lap, focusing her eyes straight ahead with a hint of a smile on her lips, and looking very much like she was trying to hold back a laugh.
"Tough audience, huh?" he quipped. "Well, I'm just gettin' started." He bent his head again and retraced his earlier path in the opposite direction, trailing a line of warm kisses upward to nuzzle his mouth against her ear, pausing to draw the tender flesh of her earlobe between his lips, using the slide of his tongue and the graze of his teeth to elicit the desired response—he already knew she liked that. Nevertheless, Leia held her position and maintained her stoic gaze, though Han could see her jaw clench just slightly.
"Still no?"
Leia offered only a slight shrug, although Han thought he could now see the faintest twitch tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"I can see I'm going to have to get creative," Han muttered. Sweeping her hair to one side, he bowed slightly and dragged the tip of his tongue upwards along the back of her neck, from the level of her shoulder to the nape. He felt her shiver, and she made a tiny noise, although she tried to play it off as if she were clearing her throat.
Han grinned, though Leia's forward gaze prevented her from seeing his satisfied smile. "That's a maybe," he decided. "But I think we're headed in the right direction."
Slipping his hands up her sides and then around the curve of her ribcage, he cupped her soft breasts in his palms, circling his thumbs around the nipples, and feeling them stiffen under his light, rhythmic touch. He felt Leia draw a deep breath and, peering over her shoulder, watched her trap her lower lip between her teeth as her eyelids fluttered shut. Her silent but obvious response made his pulse quicken and sent a surge of pleasure racing through him. As he rolled the firm peaks between thumbs and forefingers, Leia dropped her pretense, arched backward and pressed her body against his, lifting one arm up and behind her head to thread her fingers through his hair. He continued to gently knead and stroke her supple flesh, employing his expert knowledge of her body to elicit the desired response, and was gratified at last to hear a quiet, dreamy sigh.
"I'd say that's a yes," he rumbled in her ear, and then focused his eyes on her near profile while his hands continued to caress and tease her pebbled flesh. Her lips were slightly parted and, even in the faint light, he could see that her cheeks were flushed, suffused with the heat of her arousal.
Putting that look of abandonment and bliss on Leia's face was yet another item near the top of Han's increasingly lengthy list of favorite things, and the knowledge that he alone had the privilege of making her feel like this—safe and loved and desired—was more adrenalizing than the most powerful stimulant in the galaxy.
Even with her warm, lissome body wrapped in his arms, though, Han had to admit that it still felt a bit surreal. During the first year of their acquaintance, he'd driven himself half-insane with his own apparent inability to fight his attachment to her. Hell, he hadn't even been able to drag himself out of her orbit for longer than the duration of a mission, no matter how many times he told Chewie—and himself—that he was definitely, definitely, definitely out of there, right after the next transaction.
Never the type to examine his own feelings too closely or to talk about them openly, he was nevertheless well aware of what they were—and by the time the first anniversary of their meeting had passed he knew he was a goner. Early into that second year, cursing himself for a fool, he'd privately acknowledged two things: first, that he was in love with Leia Organa and, second, that she would never have him. She'd made it abundantly clear that she had no intention of acting on the undeniable attraction that existed between them, nor of responding to his overtures with anything other than frosty forbearance—or, sometimes, heated repudiation. Still, some intuition told him that she returned his feelings, and so he'd persisted, quietly pursuing her while trying not to look as though he were pursuing her. He'd employed countless thin excuses to remain in her vicinity, kicking himself all the while for being a sap and for holding on to hopeless fantasy.
Back then, fantasy alone had been enough to sustain him, although he had no idea where his ridiculous domestic notions were coming from at the time. He'd never for a minute imagined such cozy scenarios with any other woman. In fact, before Leia, the idea of settling down had simply never crossed his mind. Then, halfway through his second year with the Alliance, he'd found himself entertaining preposterous visions of a life where he could hold Leia in his arms every night, touch and kiss her all he wanted, bring her pleasure and a measure of peace, and give her his unguarded heart. Even more absurdly, he'd begun indulging in fantasies of a life where she craved those things with him, too.
It had taken a considerable amount of time, more patience than he'd have given himself credit for, and a bit of blind luck, but he finally had it— everything he'd ever wanted with Leia, including the most precious element of all: her trust. She'd placed herself in his hands this evening, both figuratively and literally, and his appreciation of that privilege knew no bounds.
Now, every slight, deliberate movement of her body against his own made Han's head swim in the most pleasant fashion, and he was far beyond simply wanting her; he ached for her. But he wasn't quite ready to relent—not yet. For a woman whose vocation relied so heavily upon her skill with words, Leia had so far proved to be remarkably taciturn in bed and Han was beginning to view it as something of a personal challenge to draw explicit comments from her about what she liked and what she wanted. He just hoped that his shaky resolve would last long enough to elicit such confessions.
As he continued to caress her soft breast with one hand, he grazed the other down over the taut skin of her belly, venturing lower to rake his fingertips lightly through the silken curls between her thighs, then slipping his hand lower still, to explore the delicate, swollen flesh there. Leia writhed against the press of his fingers and shifted her hips to encourage his access, and then dropped her head back to his shoulder and released a low moan.
"Now that—that is a definiteyes," Han smiled and then lowered his voice as he murmured another soft entreaty against her ear, "Tell me what you like, Leia."
Instead of answering, she angled away from his intimate caress and then shifted her body around to face him, and for a moment Han thought she was going to comply with his request. Still positioned between his thighs, she rose up to her knees and wound her arms around his neck, and then leaned in as if to kiss him. Deciding not to press the issue, Han moved to meet her halfway, his eyes already drifting closed. Instead of a kiss, though, he felt the delicious sweep of Leia's tongue along his lower lip and then the tiny nip of her teeth, at the same time as she dropped one hand down to wrap around him, sliding over his rigid length with a slow but insistent stroke that made his breathing quicken and sent his eyes drifting back in his head.
For a long moment, he reveled in the pure pleasure of her touch before he dragged his eyes open once more and drew back enough to focus on her face, pale and luminous in the watery moonlight. A flicker of lightning illuminated her features, and in that brief moment he could see that her eyes had a taken on a hungry luster, the one that signaled the time for teasing and games had passed. Though she remained silent, the desire Han could see in those dark depths was far more eloquent than any words she might have uttered. He leaned his weight forward to encourage her to lie back—but then halted in surprise when she resisted, pressing one hand lightly against his chest. Han drew his head back and gave her a quizzical look, wondering at her apparent hesitation.
But Leia, it seemed, was anything but hesitant. Releasing him, she slid both palms up his chest, placed the heels of her hands against his shoulders and applied gentle pressure. Obeying her wordless command, Han braced his hands behind him for balance and shifted his position from kneeling to sitting, while Leia crept forward on her knees. She continued to guide his movements until he was lying flat on his back against the thick pallet of soft blankets, and then she followed him down, shifting her own position until she was poised above him with most of her weight on her hands, her long tresses spilling over her shoulders and falling around him in a silken curtain. Sliding his hands up the back of her thighs to her hips, Han gazed up at her through a haze of love and lust, and simply waited, perfectly content to let her lead the way and still hopeful that she might yet break her silence. A little thrum of excitement pulsed through his veins as she dropped to her elbows and brought her slight weight to rest fully against him, lowering her head to seek his kiss again. Tenderly coaxing his lips apart, she teased and probed with her tongue as she pressed her warm body against his, making Han feel lightheaded with the intensity of his desire for her and the strain of holding himself in check. He ran his hands all over her, squeezing and gently kneading her soft flesh, and was gratified when she deepened the kiss, moaning softly into his mouth as their tongues tangled in delicious sensuality.
They parted on a mutual gasp and then Leia shifted again, rising up and placing a knee on either side of his body to straddle him. Han straightened beneath her, anticipating that she was about to complete their union and finally ease the heavy ache between his legs—but Leia held herself fast. Drawing up to sit straight-backed astride his thighs, she then dropped one hand down between them to caress him again, as her sparkling eyes, filled with promise, locked on his.
Flashbacks of Leia's heartfelt admission that she wanted to please him illuminated the lust-darkened corners of Han's memory, and he recalled the look of uncertainty that had shadowed her eyes when, for a brief moment, she'd worried that she might somehow fall short of that goal. The expression in her dark eyes was far from uncertain now, though; there was love and desire in those shining depths, and he could tell by the confidence with which she handled him, the sureness of every full stroke and the perfect pressure of her fingers, that she no longer harbored any doubts on that score.
Yearning for her, Han's hands drifted down the slender contours of her sides to the swell of her hips, then gripped them lightly and applied gentle traction, wanting to guide her home. To his surprise, instead of complying with his unspoken request Leia released her hold around him and then slid her own hands down to rest lightly on top of his, stilling his movements. At the same time, her eyes flickered downwards and she bit her lip, creating an expression that looked oddly nervous to Han's eyes. It became clear to him then that there was more she wanted to say but, whatever it was, she still couldn't quite bring herself to articulate it. Her uncharacteristic reticence was at once enormously endearing and highly arousing, and made him crave her even more. Keeping his gaze trained on her shadowed face, he rubbed his thumbs in tiny circles over the soft swell of her hips.
"C'mon, Sweetheart," he urged softly. "You can tell me."
Leia quirked a smile as if in acknowledgement of his acuity, and then drew a deep breath. "What I like," she began, and then stopped short and dropped her head back for a moment, releasing a heavy sigh as the trailing ends of her hair brushed across Han's knees. Straightening up once more, she met his gaze in the dim light and drew another deep breath, as if for courage. "I like it when you...talk to me," she confided, her soft voice barely carrying over the sound of the storm. She held his gaze for a long moment, waiting for his response.
Han blinked and stilled the movements of his hands. "When I talk…?"
Leia skewed her lips to one side as her gaze slid away from his and she gave a little shrug. "I like the things you say to me when...when we're—" She glanced back at him, and then widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows at him meaningfully.
"Ahh," A slow smile spread across Han's face as understanding dawned. He felt a thrill of excitement course through his body, and his hands resumed their roaming caresses, traveling up from her thighs to the crease of her hips, then following the indentation of her waist and up to graze his thumbs along the underside of her breasts. "I see," he said, and then dropped his voice to its lowest octave, generating a deep rumble that he knew would elicit a shiver from her. "You like it when I talk dirty to you?"
"Dirty…!" Leia's scandalized tone and slightly self-conscious laugh only deepened Han's adoration. Then, rocking her hips against him lightly and holding his gaze with her shining eyes, she shrugged again and said, simply, "Yes."
Han grinned; although she'd never before stated as much, her confession came as no surprise. Over the course of their intimate relationship he'd become keenly aware of how warmly Leia responded to those fierce whispers and to the raw, unbridled words that often escaped him when he was lost in a haze of pleasure and skating close to the edge of release. He knew it drove her wild, but to hear her make that admission aloud thrilled him nonetheless.
With the window at her back, Leia's face was somewhat shadowed, and the occasional shimmer of lightning wasn't quite enough to let him see her blush, but he could feel the hot flush rising to the surface of her skin elsewhere. His smile widened.
"That's good, Princess, 'cause I can't help it." Deciding that her revelation deserved an equivalent response, he added, "You drive me out of my mind." In truth, he was already conscious of the fact that he only really gave full vent to his carnal feelings for Leia when he was simply too far gone to guard his tongue. He was glad to have further confirmation that, far from finding his lustful words crude or distasteful, she actually enjoyed hearing them. He softened his voice then, letting her hear the edge of vulnerability that, by force of habit, he usually tried his best to conceal. "You make me lose all control, Sweetheart."
Leia's eyes flashed in the dim light. She rested her palms lightly on Han's abdomen and her fingertips began to trace a slow and heated path up and over his chest to brush across his shoulders, and then circled back to stroke down along his sides. Han shuddered as her fingers fluttered over his skin with a touch that left every nerve ending tingling.
"I like that, too." Leia murmured.
"What?" Between the movement of her hands and the tantalizing sensations she was eliciting with the slow friction of her hips and thighs against him, it was getting difficult to think straight or keep track of the conversation.
"When you…." she cut her eyes back at him and gave him a knowing smile. "When you lose yourself like that. And when you get a bit…." As her words trailed off, she dragged her nails lightly across his skin to illustrate her meaning.
Following the direction of her thoughts, Han's eyebrows climbed. "A bit...rough?" he clarified, his voice strained with excitement and heightened desire.
Leia laughed again, no doubt amused by his half-strangled tone, but she nodded. Dragging her fingertips down from his shoulders, she grazed over his pectoral muscles and then brought her hands together to follow the trail of coarse hair down the center of his abdomen. Han's breath caught in his throat as she wrapped the fingers of one hand around him once more and began stroking and teasing him with a confident touch, her half-lidded, smoldering eyes locked on his. Han's vision swam and he moaned low in his throat, unable to help himself. Leia's face crinkled up in a delighted smile.
"And I love that," she said, continuing her caresses with relentless and exquisite pressure. She leaned down, never stilling the delectable motion of her hand between them, to murmur another revelation against his lips. "I love the sound of your voice in my ear when we're—" She interrupted herself to capture his mouth with her own, kissing him deeply and sliding her tongue against his in a way that left him in no doubt as to her meaning.
Han groaned again and tightened his grip on her, lost in the pleasure of her kiss and the smooth stroke of her hand, charmed as much by her shy half-confessions as he was by the boldness of her touch. It took every bit of self-restraint he possessed not to roll her over, pin her beneath him, and give full rein to his desire without further delay. He could feel the potential that crackled in the air between their bodies; it promised a wild and heated frenzy of the sort that so often erupted between them. But, while he relished the intensity of such encounters with Leia, another idea had just occurred to him. He fought for a few more moments of self-control.
As Leia drew back, Han caught her gaze in the next flicker of lightning that illuminated her features. "Vet valle amehili kia min prek Corellisi, eh?" he ventured, and then grinned when he heard and felt Leia catch her breath. He knew there was something about the sound of his native tongue that affected Leia deeply and elevated her desire to a fever pitch. He laughed, gratified by her response, by her slow smile and the glimmer of lust in her eyes. She nodded, acknowledging the truth of his supposition.
Han trailed his fingers down the length of her spine. "Turn around, Sweetheart."
Straightening above him, she gave him a quizzical eyebrow.
Han motioned with one hand to show her what he meant. "Face the other way," he explained.
Leia's slightly bemused expression remained, but she moved to comply, briefly unseating herself before turning away from Han and then straddling him again, this time facing the rain-lashed window. She cast a glance over her shoulder, sending the trailing ends of her long hair sweeping across his abdomen. "Like this?"
Han drew a sharp breath at the cool, silken caress, and then released it in a rush. "Yeah, now lie on your back," he instructed. "Stretched out, right on top of me."
Leia's eyes flashed with a hint of uncertainty as she continued to gaze down at him over her shoulder.
"You're not too heavy, Sweetheart. C'mon," he prompted, reaching for her as he offered an encouraging smile. "Trust me."
With a puzzled smile, she acquiesced, turning to face forward once more before settling her weight intimately across his hips. Then, gathering her hair over one shoulder, she leaned back slightly and allowed him to guide her movements as she continued to recline. Han eased her back until she was lying supine on top of him with her head pillowed on his shoulder, and then drew his bent legs up to bracket hers, and wrapped her entirely in his arms. The weight of Leia's body resting fully atop his was strangely satisfying and made him wonder why he'd never suggested this arrangement before. It had occurred to him—rather belatedly—that this position would not only negate much of their height difference, it could offer a distinct advantage, considering Leia's stated preference for hearing his voice in her ear. Her body was so small and compact, and her weight so slight, it caused him no discomfort at all to cradle her like this. In fact, it felt incredible. Furthermore, it gave him full access to every centimeter of her body and placed the delicate crescent of her ear within millimeters of his lips.
He took full advantage of that access now, nuzzling her ear as he dragged his fingers up from her knees, trailing along the length of her thighs, and then rubbing lightly over the smooth skin of her belly and abdomen, before drifting up to cup the swell of her breasts. The sound of Leia's ragged breathing and the feel of her pebbled skin responding to his touch made him feel feverish with want, and he allowed his hands to roam freely all over her body then, driven by the desire to touch her everywhere at once. Leia indulged her own desires, dipping a hand down between them to resume her deft and confident stroke of his rigid flesh, pressing him intimately against her own heated body, while the fingers of her other hand, arched above her head, entwined in his hair. The scent of her, the slow undulation of her hips and the delicious friction from her hand combined to send Han half out of his mind with lust.
As he struggled to maintain a tenuous grip on his composure, Leia's soft cries of pleasure became whispered words of entreaty that erased what little remained of his restraint. With her slender frame draped across him at the perfect angle and the warm crux of her body pressed so intimately close, it required only a slight adjustment of Leia's grip on him and a minor shift in his own position, and he was sinking home, groaning his own deep pleasure at the rush of sensation, which was trebled by the sound of Leia's breathless gasp and the low moan of satisfaction that followed it.
"Stars," she breathed. "That's...so…good."
Han grinned at the deep sincerity in her voice, though it took him a moment to summon the breath to speak again, momentarily overwhelmed and rendered speechless by how fantastic she felt—succulent, snug and incredibly warm. He cleared his throat and tried his best to focus on extending their little game. "Mmm, 's pretty good, Princess," he murmured. "Plus, it makes it easier to do this." Playfully, he traced the shape of her ear with the tip of his tongue.
Leia squirmed and laughed, though Han held her fast. He was, in effect, embracing her petite form with his entire body, and she couldn't go far. She arched her neck to take her ear out of his reach for a moment and then tilted it back, tacitly asking for more. Han complied, nibbling the tender flesh of her earlobe around a smile that could not be suppressed.
Leia's enthusiasm for their most intimate moments gave him a pleasure so deep he couldn't even fully articulate it to himself. It filled his mind, swelled his heart and tightened his throat with a sensation akin to the natural high he felt whenever he punched the Falcon into hyperspace—a rush of mingled joy, pride and exultation, and other fleeting feelings he could hardly name. The knowledge that she craved his touch and reveled in his affections was gratifying enough, but the way she opened herself to him so playfully, unguardedly and completely…well, that was something else, something truly precious that he hadn't anticipated, even over the years when he was actively pursuing a relationship with her. Her unequivocal trust in him was a gift and a boon that he appreciated more than he could ever express in words, falling back instead on his usual banter and hoping that Leia understood what it meant to him. His gut told him that she did understand, and that she continued to reveal herself to him in new ways precisely because what they had together was precious to her, as well. He pressed a kiss to her temple.
"And as a bonus feature," he intoned against her ear, deliberately lowering his voice to its deepest timbre, "my hands are free, too." Keeping one palm warmly caressing a soft breast, he trailed the fingers of his other hand down from her breastbone in a meandering line, lightly traversing the trembling plane of her abdomen and pausing to trace a tiny circle around her navel before descending lower to gently explore the apex of her thighs where they were intimately joined. Leia whimpered and arched her hips in response, a movement that sent another tingling wave of intense pleasure through Han, suffusing his entire body with heat. His reflexive, answering groan raised a shudder that prickled Leia's heated skin beneath his hands. It was almost too much, and he had to still his movements and hold his breath for a moment to regain control.
Leia shifted then and tried to twist her upper body, clearly angling to see his face, but the twin braces of his arms held her firmly in place. Apparently coming to the hazy realization that her range of motion was greatly restricted, Leia gave a small hmpf of resignation and settled back, stretching languidly against him and reaching her arms above their heads to thread her fingers through his hair once more.
"Fine, so you can multitask, Hotshot," she said, a little breathlessly, "but what about me? I'm, uh..." She gave a light laugh and another squirm of her hips to highlight her predicament. "I can't even really move."
"Ah," Han smiled against her cheek. "Leave that to me."
Shifting under her slight weight, he drew his knees up, planted his feet in the plush blankets and pressed his splayed hand down low on Leia's belly to keep her steady as he flexed his hips in a slow and controlled stroke. For Han the resulting sensation was exquisite, nearly short-circuiting his brain. Judging by the way Leia gasped and suddenly clutched at his bracing arm, it was good for her, too. Although he enjoyed the challenge of trying to provoke more explicit commentary from her, in truth, Leia's answering moan was everything he wanted to hear. The confirmation of her deep pleasure was evident in her soft cries, and in the way she met his movements with slight movements of her own. He repeated the smooth roll of his hips, eliciting the same wordless but joyful response from the princess, and couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. Keeping her body pressed tightly to his, he continued the slow undulation of his hips, setting up an easy and unhurried rhythm that drew rising sounds of ecstasy from Leia as she arched her back and breathed his name.
Encouraged by her response, Han settled into his languid pace and they sank slowly together into a state of sensual bliss. The sublime sensation of Leia's lithe body enmeshed with his own, the warmth and the enticing scent of her flooded his senses and set his innermost thoughts free. Unbridled by Leia's revelation, the words he always wanted to say to her in such intimate moments fell easily from his lips. Erotic whispers and raw, carnal urgings mingled with sweet words of adoration that poured out of him in a heated tide, punctuated by Leia's breathless gasps and the low, keening sounds that escaped her throat as he moved within her.
Then, through the haze of his own euphoria, Han was astonished and elated to hear Leia's inarticulate moans and ragged sounds of pure pleasure begin to shape themselves into half-choked words. He had a limited understanding of the language, but he knew Alderaani when he heard it. Although the pitch and volume of her voice ebbed and flowed with the rush of each breath, he was almost certain she was invoking the name of some ancient deity, along with a few fervent supplications offered up in his name as well. Sliding a hand between her legs once more, he picked up the cadence of his rhythm, the change in pace and the delicate touch of his fingers eliciting another rapturous moan. Leia pressed her head back against his shoulder as her disjointed murmurings turned into a breathless stream of words and phrases he'd never fully imagined hearing from her lips—raw, unbridled sentiments that matched his own, though they sounded delightfully shocking, coming from the princess. The effect on Han was incendiary, like a spark to dry tinder, and he felt the surging of his body in powerful response. In an instant he knew that Leia talking dirty to him was rocketing straight to the top of his list of favorite things, surpassing all others. He grinned against her ear, whispering his approval and encouragement, pleased that her confession had proved as liberating for her as it had for him.
Leia's grip tightened on his steadying arm as her gasped entreaties became fierce commands, her rich voice lowering to a soft growl that raised all the fine hairs on Han's body and sent his blood thundering through his veins. Rendered almost senseless by the intensity of the moment, he had only a dim awareness of Leia's movement as she bent her knees and found a foothold in the thick padding of blankets beneath them. She then began to move atop him in a subtle tempo of her own, making tiny, tight little revolutions of her hips that formed a delicious counterpoint to his own driving rhythm. Enveloped in her slick heat and pushed to the edge by the sweet synthesis of angle and friction, Han felt the molten surge that presaged his release. He closed his eyes against the erotic sight of her and felt his breathing grow ragged as he gripped her hard and battled for enough self-control to take her with him to the brink. An instant later Leia's entire body drew taut as a wire and arched against him. The hot pulse of her consumed him, severing the last filament of his self-restraint, and all semblance of control tumbled into oblivion. Swept hard and fast over the edge on the wave of her shuddering release, Han's whole body thrummed with the rare, wild sound of Leia's beautiful voice, urging him on.
-:¦:-:¦:-:¦:-
Sleep was little more than a heartbeat away when the sound of Leia's voice—softer now and slightly hoarse with impending slumber—penetrated Han's thoughts once more and pulled him back to hazy awareness.
"So...are we going out in the morning?" she murmured. "To buy a proper bed?"
With Leia's head resting on his chest and her body tucked perfectly into the crook of his arm, the soothing comfort of her warm, bare frame nestled against his own combined with the measured rise and fall of her breathing to lull Han into a state of dreamlike bliss. He struggled for a moment to gather the energy to answer her. "Mmmm...dunno," he responded at length in a lazy drawl, not bothering to open his eyes. "I kinda like our little burrow here."
"Me, too." He felt Leia smile against his skin. "Although it might be a little awkward when Chewie's around or Luke drops by."
Han grunted in sleepy acknowledgement and began to drift away again, his sated state and the coziness of their makeshift bed proving to be too powerful a pull to resist. But Leia wasn't done talking yet.
"Maybe we could camp out in the living room every now and then...relive old times and rough it a little," she mused aloud, tilting her head up against his shoulder. "Like that time on Shantipole when we lost all comm signals and had to hike blind through the Cordef Wilds to get to the extraction point?" She traced a finger in a meandering pattern down the centre of his chest and back again. "You know, I'm still convinced that you deliberately left behind the second survival bag so we'd have to share a sleep sack."
At that, Han's eyes cracked open. Angling his head down, he put on his most affronted expression. "I told you then and I'm tellin' you now, Princess," he growled, "that was not a premeditated attempt to get you to sleep with me. I was in kind of a hurry when I grabbed the stuff from the shuttle—it was on fire, remember? I only had a minute to grab the basics."
Leia's eyebrows climbed as she gazed back up at him, her head tilted back against his shoulder. "Well, I could have taken a bag if you hadn't shoved me out of the hatch like some kind of—."
"Listen, Your Highness," Han interrupted, squinting in mock irritation at her playfully mulish expression, "that shuttle could've blown up at any second, with you in it. I wasn't taking any chances."
"Right." Leia dropped her head back down and wriggled against him, nestling in tight. "Sure."
Her skeptical tone told Han that she still wasn't buying that explanation, although it was the honest truth. He supposed he deserved her skepticism, though, considering the many other occasions when he'd stretched the plausibility of certain situations in order to get closer to her. Still, she gave a soft snort and then lifted her head once more to smirk up at him. "On fire," she echoed with mild derision. "All I saw was a little flare of sparks from underneath the console. I've seen you put out worse fires than that aboard the Falcon, with nothing but your shirt."
Han shrugged. "Well, anyway, it worked out didn't it? We got through it." He angled his head down once more and offered a smug smile. "And you did sleep with me that night. Technically."
"What? No," she said, furrowing her brow. "I didn't sleep with you that night, in any sense of the word. I didn't sleep at all, as I recall."
Han released an exaggerated sigh. "What a selective memory you have, Your Worship. You slept so hard you snored like an asthmatic nerf, and nearly got us caught when that Imp patrol passed by."
Leia knuckled him lightly in the ribs and rested her head once more, though she kept her eyes turned up and fixed on his profile. "I do not snore," she said in an indignant tone. "I was getting over a cold."
"Right," he echoed, peering down at her upturned face, limned in moonlight. "A cold that didn't stop you kissing me when you thought I was asleep."
Leia ducked her head to bury her face against his chest, but not before he saw the flash of surprise in her eyes, followed swiftly by a look of mild embarrassment. Han grinned as he felt heat blooming in the cheek she pressed against his skin. He knew full well that she hadn't realized until now that he'd been awake for that surreptitious little caress. He planted a smiling kiss into her hair, enjoying the delicate scent of Arallute that clung to the still-damp strands.
"Hey, it's alright, Princess," he teased, "you couldn't help yourself. Gorgeous guy like me? All snuggled up in a sleep sack with you, apparently unconscious and at your mercy? Perfectly understandable."
Han envisioned the exaggerated roll of her eyes at the same time as he heard her soft chuff of laughter. "I seem to recall you sneaking in a kiss, too, Flyboy," she said dryly. "I wasn't sleeping so hard I missed that."
"No witnesses. Never happened," he grinned.
He had indeed pressed a kiss—maybe more than one—against the top of her braided head as she lay in his arms. That long-ago night wasn't the first they'd spent together in the same bed, circumstances in the service of armed rebellion being what they were, but it was the first time they'd been in such close physical contact for so long with no one else around to see them. And though they hadn't discussed it then, nor at any time since, Han recognized now that that night had been an early turning point in their relationship. They'd taken silent comfort in each other that evening—not in a sexual way, but through mere proximity and simple touch. He'd reveled in the sensation of her nestled in his arms, marveling over her sudden and inexplicable lack of resistance to his offered embrace, and worrying in case he somehow fucked it up—which he had, almost inevitably, at first light. Han smiled to himself, thinking about how simultaneously thrilling and frustrating that evening had been for him, back when they were still dancing around each other, never revealing true feelings or saying what they wanted to say. Back when his lifelong commitment to utter independence and freedom from attachments was in its death throes. He gave Leia a little one-armed squeeze, pondering over how far they'd come since then.
Leia's fingers resumed their lazy pattern, tracing a finger along the hard line of his collarbone to the hollow of his throat. "That was a very memorable evening, Han," she said, her tone softening with wistful recollection.
Han gave a short laugh. "I won't forget it anytime soon, either, Princess. We had a run of very bad luck on that mission, and some pretty close calls. We were damn lucky to survive it."
Leia gave a thoughtful little hum. "True. But none of that is what makes it stand out in my memory. I think it was how you were that night…." Her voice trailed off, and Han could almost feel her thinking.
"What do you mean, how I was? What'd I do?"
"Oh, it was more the way you did it. I think that was perhaps the first time I fully realized how completely you...you understood me. And how much you truly cared about me." She tilted her head up and lifted her gaze back to his. "I think you realized then how much you cared about me, too."
Han slanted a glance down at her upturned face. "Nah, Princess. Caring about you happened a long time before that. That night was the first time I faced the fact I was straight-up in love with you, and there was no going back. Made me shake in my boots a little."
"Is that why you were so horrible to me the next day?"
"I wasn't—".
"Yes, you were." she interjected firmly.
"Okay, I was," Han conceded. "I dunno, Sweetheart. Maybe…" He gave a little sigh of resignation. "To realize that someone else…that my whole life was going to be affected by whatever happened to you, or with you. Or without you. That you'd become so…important to me, and I couldn't—I couldn't even…." He was stammering now, and he gave a short laugh at his own inarticulate faltering. "It scared the shit out of me, Leia," he said bluntly. "So much so, I had to fall back and regroup a little, I guess."
Leia stretched up to give him a soft kiss on the jaw. "Well, never mind. In spite of everything, all the danger and discomfort and awkwardness, I will always remember that night. In fact, as strange as it sounds, I'd say it was one of the best evenings of my life, somehow."
"Yeah," Han nodded in agreement, stroking his fingertips over the curve of her bare shoulder and down the graceful arc of her arm where it lay draped across his body. "Ranks pretty high on my list, too, Sweetheart." Finding her hand, he slipped his fingers through hers and gave a gentle squeeze. "But this is the new best night, for me."
Leia shifted in his arms, and Han loosened his embrace to allow her to turn until she was nestled half-prone against him. She crossed her arms over his chest, lacing her fingers, and rested her chin on her hands. The sight of her made Han's throat tighten. Silhouetted in the backdrop of watery moonlight that filtered in from the windows, she made a very pretty picture. Her pale skin was radiant with moonlight, contrasting sharply against dark hair that tumbled in waves down her back and over her shoulders, brushing against and tickling his bare skin. She gazed at him with a rapt expression, her big brown eyes alight with curiosity and unabashed adoration. Han allowed himself a moment to simply gaze down at her, swallowing the lump in his throat as he gathered another treasured memory for his collection, to be filed away for future solace.
"The new best night?" Leia queried with a tone of amusement, interrupting his thoughts. "What was the old best night of your life, then?"
Han reached out to smooth a hand over her hair, brushing back a few stray tendrils that curtained her features and then met her eyes with a slow smile. "That first time," he said in a low timbre, "on the way to Bespin, when I walked out of the fresher and found you sittin' on the edge of my bunk, waiting for me."
It was obvious from the knowing smile that stole across Leia's face and the way she dropped her eyes for a moment and then slanted a shy look up at him through long lashes that she recalled that night as vividly and as fondly as he. He also noticed that the flush that had faded from her cheeks had blossomed once more, and he couldn't help but smile at Leia's sudden display of self-consciousness. Just minutes ago she had been writhing in his arms, urging him on with sensational language that had turned an already memorable experience into something of a milestone, and yet his mention of the profound turning point in their relationship—or even that stolen kiss in the dark on Shantipole, so long ago—seemed to recall her natural reserve and sense of decorum to the fore. That duality of Leia's personality was one of the many things he found fascinating about her, and he adored both the modest, demure side and the bold, confident side of her character in equal measure. Hell, there wasn't much about Leia he didn't adore. He was just happy to know that she returned his sentiments in full, and that they were finally done with all the quarrelsome uncertainty that had characterized the early days of their relationship.
He watched as Leia slowly returned her gaze to his. There was a teasing light in her eyes, and she gave him a playful smile. "Do you still have those lucky red socks?" she ventured, raising one fine eyebrow.
Han grinned. "You bet I do. I'm gonna frame 'em, and put 'em up on the wall right above our bed."
That elicited another snort of laughter. "Of course you are. Then where are you going to put the 'galaxy's biggest mirror', Hotshot?"
"Well, we've got four walls, right? Three big mirrors and some lucky socks in a frame, maybe with a little spotlight over 'em, and the room's got all the decoration it'll ever need. Just leave it to me."
Leia's bubbling laughter bordered dangerously on the edge of becoming a giggle and Han couldn't help but join in, pulling her tight against his side with one arm and planting another kiss on the top of her head. The chances of her letting him get anywhere near the bedroom with his dubious decorating skills were slim to none, he knew, but he enjoyed teasing her about it anyway.
Leia's laughter finally subsided and she heaved a happy sigh as she settled back into her relaxed posture, her head lolling against his shoulder, her face still upturned to his. "So, what else is in this collection of favorite evenings?" she asked. "You seem to have quite a few…."
Han thought carefully for a moment, blinking away the last of his drowsiness as he pondered over how to broach the next favorite on his list in a way that would make sense to Leia. The one he had in mind had been a difficult evening for her, and one he knew she didn't like to recall, much less dwell upon—and for good reason. Yet to him, it was a precious and indelible memory that marked another watershed moment in their shared journey. He took a breath, and then lifted a hand to caress her cheek. "That night on Endor, after you told me about Vader."
Leia gave a mild start and blinked, and then her eyes widened. Han saw the glimmer of mirthful light that had been shining in their depths grow dim, at the same time as the smile faded from her lips. "I don't see how that makes the list, Han," she said in a quietly serious tone. "That wasn't a very good day at all, at least for me."
"Maybe not at first," he concurred, lifting and toying with a strand of her hair. "Not the morning you spent worrying yourself sick about it, or the afternoon you spent trying to work up the nerve to tell me—but afterwards? Yeah," he smiled. "That night was great. It's on my list because…." He paused, chewing on his lip as he gathered his thoughts. "Well, 'cause that's the first time, I think, you really believed I was here to stay," he said. He wound the long lock of silken hair around his finger a few times before releasing it, watching it unfurl and fall in a dark wave beside her cheek before he met her eyes once more. "That's the first night you completely trusted me, Leia, without any doubts. When you knew you could count on me, no matter what, one hundred percent." He fell silent, eyeing Leia as she gazed steadily back at him, her eyes shining.
"And that's important to you," she murmured. It wasn't a question so much as a quiet affirmation, as if Leia were mentally filing that information away for future reference. After a long moment, she broke into a tender smile. "And now you have a new favorite night to add to your list."
"The first of many to come," Han predicted, beaming a wide smile. "Speaking of which," he said, shifting up onto one elbow and gently extricating himself from Leia's warm embrace. Pushing back the edge of the soft blanket they'd drawn over themselves, he climbed to his feet and then took a moment to stare down at Leia. She'd rolled onto her back as he left the pallet, and lay now with one arm bent behind her head and the other draped over her waist, knees bent and knocked together in a relaxed pose as she smiled up at him. The pale light from the windows illuminated her lovely figure, but she made no move to cover herself under Han's adoring gaze. He winked at her. "Wait here."
While their attentions had been focused on each other, the fury of the storm had finally passed. The night sky had cleared, and wan shafts of light from Chandrila's twin moons had emerged to illuminate Han's path back to the fresher, where he retrieved what remained of their forgotten bottle of wine and the glasses. Returning to the pile of tumbled bedding, he sat down cross-legged atop the blankets at Leia's side as she sat up and swiveled to face him, and then he handed her the two flutes.
"You read my mind," Leia smiled, mirroring his cross-legged position, her long hair tumbling over her shoulders to veil her bare body. "We barely had a sip of that before the power went out, but it was delicious. It would be a shame not to enjoy it before it loses its sparkle."
"My thoughts exactly. Besides, this is a celebration, ain't it? And what's a celebration without a toast?"
Leia's answering smile was bright enough to light the room as she extended each flute in turn for Han to pour out measures of the pale, effervescent liquid. She waited until he'd set the bottle down before passing one of the glasses back to him and then raising her own in salute.
Han lifted his glass in return and gave her his warmest smile. "A toast, Sweetheart. To our new home, our new life, and to many more nights like this one. Kun ehern. Al via chakta."
Leia's smile beamed even brighter as she held his gaze. "Elevia para linea," she answered his native Corellian with her own mother tongue. "Chal veo rin, aki."
In unison, they touched the delicate rims of their glasses together and then, lifting them to their lips, sipped the sparkling wine around shared, delighted smiles.
-:¦:-:¦:-:¦:-
The End
A/N: The End? Well, you know, it's not the end, really. It's just the beginning. After all, we just devoted sevenchapters and around 43k words to a single night in the Organa-Solo household. We don't even know! It is what it is. This schmaltzy, fluffy smut is just what we need to write right now as an antidote to the stresses of real life and the general state of the world; we just hope you enjoy it, too. There's still a bed to buy (we promise, that chapter will be considerably shorter than this one) and probably some paint samples to sort through? Han's still determined to get Leia to try out those kitchen counters and the Rogues may or may not be planning a housewarming party…. Stay tuned! – JG & ED