FINIFUGAL
(adj.) the resistance to the end of something; the wish to avoid or prolong the final moments of a journey or relationship
As their intrepid crew of four started out on the final stretch toward Bespin, other ships began appearing on their radar. None of them were Imperial but one could never be too careful, and the judgement was made to steer well clear of all hyperspace lanes. That meant tacking on an extra five days to their journey, but they had rations enough to sustain them, and it was better to be safe than sorry with the Falcon still operating at suboptimal levels and with no means of quick escape.
While the decision was made strictly with prudence in mind, if truth be told, two out of the four were in no hurry to see the trip come to an end.
The first time Leia was able to discern the planet with her naked eye as an actual destination and not just a dull red light in the distance left her physically nauseous. Moreover, her nightmares markedly increased, in both frequency and intensity, as they made their final approach to Bespin.
No longer the typical memories of her imprisonment on the Death Star and Alderaan exploding before her eyes, these dreams were different. Disjointed and hazier, but with a relentless urgency. And all still terrifying amalgamations of Vader: a mishmash of the torture before, along with new torture at his hand; screams not issued from her own throat but that seemed to echo inside her, an internal anguish that could not be abated.
Twice, she had a repeat of the new nightmare where she and Han were in bed together and it was vivid and erotic, the intense pleasure a tangible thing. Until he was wrenched out of her arms in the steamy orange-yellow glow, and the accompanying devastation and anguish were equally tangible.
One dream, unaccountably, included Obi Wan. He had always featured in Luke's dreams, never hers, but now she was the one on Tatooine and Obi Wan was trying to tell her something vital, shouting it across the desert sand, but Leia was too far away and his words too garbled for her make them out, though she felt as if their very lives depended on it.
A few times, sudden flashes of these new nightmares even haunted her in her waking hours, as if demanding not to be ignored.
Overall, their impending arrival on Bespin brought with it an all-encompassing sense of foreboding that to Leia was almost like a living, breathing thing; ominous and menacing, looming unavoidably on their horizon. It left her anxious and edgy, and she hated feeling that way. She attempted to hide it from the rest of them, but Han could read her too well.
He kept trying to reassure her: their plan was sound; he had a longstanding friendship with Lando, despite the stretch of years since they'd last seen each other; the Falcon only needed standard repairs that should be relatively quick once she was docked with the proper supplies and equipment; Bespin was their nearest and safest option, and they needn't stay there longer than a day.
None of it seemed to do much to ease Leia's mind, but they both figured her trepidation was less about actual safety concerns and really because Bespin equaled Han's imminent departure.
Cloud City was the finish line neither of them truly wanted to reach, but they nearly had and they knew they must.
Their time together was coming to an end; that's what it all meant.
Their weeks spent together holed away outside of the hardships of war and the at-times-chaotic, continually all-consuming struggles of life fighting for the Alliance — precious time to be lost together, adrift in a secluded world of their own making — had been nothing short of bliss. But all that blithe happiness didn't come without a catch and they'd known it from the beginning. Escaping Hoth together with a broken hyperdrive was never a pardon for their fledgling relationship, only a stay of execution. It had been a whole lot easier to banish that knowledge to the back of their minds when they had weeks ahead of them. Now, it couldn't help but be faced.
By the time they reached what Han determined would be the last full day of their journey — he estimated they would reach Bespin's atmosphere by the Falcon's next early afternoon cycle, which should equate to approximately dusk on-planet — Leia was urgently seeking a distraction from the persistent, nagging sense of dread.
She sought out Han's presence even more so than usual, constantly at his side throughout the day, wanting to make the most of every moment they had left together, with kisses and touches and stories and laughter. If she was looking to forget reality for a while, nothing accomplished that faster than time spent in Han Solo's arms.
There were, however, still some matters of practicality. Han couldn't live to be her pleasant distraction all of the time. So, after the trio had dinner, while Han was busy cleaning up, Leia distracted herself with a long game of dejarik against Chewbacca, who was always up for a match.
Han found them still together after he finished up in the galley, so he started out on his rounds of the ship, including a stop at the rear hold to give Goldenrod instructions to power down for the remainder of the day to undergo routine cheeks, server maintenance, and charging. Han had to make sure the droid was in tip-top shape come tomorrow, though he purposefully hadn't mentioned that to Leia.
The stark, unvarnished truth was that he couldn't be entirely certain what they were walking into.
He didn't think Lando would meet him unfavorably — and if he did, Han felt confident in his ability to talk his old friend around. If he hadn't, he would never have brought Leia there in the first place; he just would have had to find some other way. But there was always the chance, too, that they would arrive on Bespin at a time when Lando was off somewhere else. Han was counting on Calrissian's influence to grease the wheels and readily get them everything they needed to quickly and efficiently be on their way. If Lando wasn't on-planet when they arrived, that could make things much trickier. Han had never set foot in Cloud City and couldn't know what to expect. 'Successful mining community' could mean a lot of things. From the research Han was able to do aboard ship, Cloud City seemed more thriving resort town than rough and tumble outpost. Still, If Lando wasn't around, they just might need Threepio's translation skills to deal with the Ugnaughts.
Turning his thoughts back to current matters, Han's lips curved into a warm smile when he crossed back into the main hold, and Leia and Chewie were only just finishing up their spirted match. Leia must be hard up for entertainment, Han thought, if she'd resorted to holochess with Chewbacca, a drawn-out game the Wookiee was notoriously competitive at — and a sore loser, to boot — which, in Han's opinion, didn't exactly make for a rollicking good time.
Walking over to the table and hearing that Leia had won, Han swallowed back a laugh and mischievously asked her, "He didn't threaten to rip your arms out yet, did he?"
"Oh please," Leia scoffed. "Chewie wouldn't so much as hurt a bitz bug undeservedly. He's a sweetheart." She turned to his copilot and tousled the fur on his arm affectionately. Chewbacca, in turn, growled his fondness and patted her hand.
To Han's eyes, they were practically cooing at each other, and he'd seen enough. He was far from disapproving of their friendship, and not quite jealous either, but if Leia was going to be sickeningly sweet with someone, Han wanted it to be him!
"Alright. Move aside, fuzzball," Han grumbled good-naturedly. "Stop makin' time with my girl."
"I'm your girl, am I?" Leia playfully questioned as he slid onto the bench close beside her, stopping only once his left thigh was pressed intimately into her right.
"Hope so. And if a game of dejarik is what you're after, I'm your guy," he said, pointing a thumb to his chest and using his free hand to hit the reset button on the table.
But Leia's mind was no longer on dejarik. She'd missed him, though it couldn't have been more than two hours since they were last together. He looked good; she noticed that he'd rolled his sleeves up to the elbows — likely to clean the dishes — and she had it bad enough for every part of him that, even three years in, the sight of his toned and tanned forearms could still get her going.
Han quickly sensed her mood and eagerly appended, "Or if you're looking for somethin' a little more exciting, I'm your guy for that, too. And anything in between…Whenever, wherever, and however you want me, Princess," was his deep, husky promise.
Smelling the pheromones ricocheting through the hold, Chewbacca got up and excused himself, making sure to announce he would be in the cockpit on watch — with the hatch closed and no intention of leaving unless he was expressly needed. In other words, the two of them would be entirely alone. Chewie could only hope they would use that time productively: to finally mate and ease their tensions.
This so-called human courtship he'd witnessed over the past four weeks was nearly as bad as their bickering had been, just in a different way. Maybe once they had the outlet of regular mating, it would help to alleviate their raging hunger and they would be able to keep their libidinous behaviors confined to the bedroom where others wouldn't have to bear witness.
"So," Leia said softly to Han once they heard the cockpit hatch swish closed, "you've reclaimed me: what exactly do you plan to do with me — once I beat you, that is?"
"You talk a big game, Highness." Han eyed her with a sinful grin. "Let's put a little action behind it."
"What did you have in mind?" she queried, her heartrate already picking up.
Han's left brow lifted wickedly for effect. "Strip dejarik."
Leia laughed, beguiling and lyrical, in a way that only further egged him on. "Dejarik isn't very well-suited for that," she responded matter-of-factly, not really taking him seriously. "It's an elaborate, lengthy game. It would be hours before anyone was fully nude, which I don't believe you have the patience for."
"Okay, strip sabacc then," he revised.
She was halfway through forming a witty comeback for why sabacc would never do either, not because she truly believed it but simply for the fun of bantering with him, when Leia glanced up from the dejarik setup holo asking her to choose her first player and saw that he was being quite serious. "Han…" she began hesitantly.
"No one'll be around. You heard what Chewie said, and I just came from shutting off Gilded Bigmouth back there. We're all alone," Han coaxed.
Leia gave another half-incredulous laugh. Only half because this was Han, after all, and she'd dubbed him her scoundrel for a reason. "You can't actually believe I'd take you up on that offer," she replied, though with a charmed smile at his characteristic audaciousness.
"Why not? There's no one else to see. No interlopers, no interruptions. Just you and me, and an evening of possibilities." Han brought his fingers up to play at the collar of her shirt, adding to the enticement.
She caught his hand in hers and kissed those errant fingers. "My, you're in a mood." He gave a low, hungry sound of confirmation as she turned his hand over and pressed a series of feather-light kisses onto the inside of his wrist. "But being seen wasn't my objection and you know it. At least, not by them."
"I understand…" Han placated, goading her, knowing what her reaction would be. "This ain't the way you pictured gettin' naked in front of me."
"No, and I'm not about to—" Leia broke off as his words caught up to her. "Hold on, what makes you think I'll be the one getting naked? That implies you think you're going to be doing all the winning."
Han's face was carefully impassive. "Wasn't implying nothin'."
"Good," she nodded her approval. "Because you know very well that I can—"
"I'm flat-out sayin' it," he smugly interjected. "I'm gonna be doin' all the winning."
Leia's mouth curved into a knowing smirk. Those were obvious fighting words if she'd ever heard any. A little too obvious not to give him away. "Don't think I don't know exactly what you're doing, Han Solo."
He gave her his best Who me? innocent expression, but it didn't matter that they both knew he was full of it, issuing a blatantly transparent provocation to reach an equally transparent goal. Because they also both knew she would be unable to resist taking him up on this or any other challenge.
"All right, you're on," Leia unsurprisingly caved. "But I set the rules."
Han stretched his arms out over the back of the booth in a calculated show of insouciance. "Fire away, Worship."
She put on her best expression of royal decorum but her eyes danced with exhilaration, giving her away. "One article of clothing of the victor's choice comes off for every round your opponent wins. Socks count separately. Underwear stays on." Anticipating him, she conclusively added, "And that includes my bra."
"Oh, are you wearin' one today?" Han's flirtatious retort was accompanied by the same wolfish mien he'd turned on her the very first day of their trip when she'd fallen into his lap in the cockpit and he'd declared he didn't have the time to properly excite her. Even weeks later, it hadn't lost its effect.
"That was one time," Leia declared in her defense, smiling despite herself.
"And at night. You take it off every night. You think I don't notice?"
That insatiate look of his was back, and Leia began to think she wasn't the only one seeking to make the most of these last days together.
"That was rhetorical before; I've known every time you weren't wearing a bra," Han continued suggestively. "I know you weren't wearin' one under those senatorial robes the first time I saw you."
"What a thing to notice on the Death Star!" she rejoined in mock disapproval.
His eyes dipped down to her breasts appreciatively. "I notice every little wiggle they make."
"Kanailo." Han was slowly teaching her Olys Corellisi. That was her latest word and a new favorite: scoundrel.
She grabbed the collar of his jacket, pulling him down into a kiss. Han obliged her for several long moments before gently drawing back. "Okay, Princess, I agree to your terms. Though it could've been even more fun in the nude."
"I've no doubt of it."
"We'll do it your way; you can keep your underwear. Unless you change your mind." He waggled his brows at her. "But I'm gettin' you down to them and nothin' else."
Despite the rush of anticipation running hot and fierce through her veins, Leia kept her sabacc face firmly in place. "We'll see about that."
"Quit stallin', Sweetheart," Han urged. "I'm claiming my winnings."
Leia made a passable attempt at appearing put-out by it — and she genuinely didn't want to lose; she never did — but each new article of clothing that came off intensified the flush of titillation coloring her skin, heightened the tension in the air between them in a way she couldn't deny enjoying.
"Very well." She enhanced the words with a long-suffering sigh. "Fair is fair, I suppose. Which article of clothing goes next?" Her pulse tripped into lightspeed waiting for his response.
The options were limited after several rounds. Han had claimed her pants first — he wanted to savor every second of ogling those long, shapely legs of hers — and they had already decided that her hairpins and his belt didn't count. That left Leia down to her shirt, underwear, and one sock. Han had his pants and underwear. This latest win put them at a tie, each with two articles remaining once Han chose his prize.
"Your bra," he requested, his voice dipping low into that delicious register that seemed to stroke her everywhere without him so much as lifting a finger. "Take it off, Leia."
The use of her given name at such a moment, in such a way, and in combination with his bold command left her knees weak enough to be glad she was sitting, or she would surely be subjected to another comment on her trembling. And Leia wasn't about to give her opponent the advantage of revealing how much he stirred her. "But we agreed—"
"Leave your shirt on," he cut in on her objection, "but take off the bra. That's the article I want."
"I'm sure it is," Leia smiled coyly. "But that wasn't in the rules. In fact, that is strictly against the rules, Captain."
Kest, that sent a shiver through him. She used to call him that in anger and annoyance. Now it was reserved for passion and desire. Definitely a good sign. "I'm amending the rules," he countered. "That's basic Senate procedure; no doubt you're familiar. And you wouldn't be arguing if you knew what an advantage it'd give you getting me preoccupied and all agitated, watching them move soft and loose beneath that thin shirt…"
"Is that why you gave it to me? It's see-through?" she accused, amused rather than offended, because he wasn't wrong; she did like scoundrels.
"Not see-through, but I can see enough," Han acknowledged shamelessly, his eyes perusing the area now. "Even with the bra, I see an outline — of the very taut nipple that tells me you're as eager as I am to take that off."
Leia narrowed her eyes at him, but with his gaze still at her chest, he didn't miss the way her breathing quickened. "Fine," she regally allowed.
Aware that she had his rapt attention, she might have played it for a slow seduction. Instead, Leia reached around and very succinctly unclasped her bra with a single flick of her wrist, primly extracting it through her shirt sleeve. She correctly sensed that would turn him on more than any artfully elaborate attempt.
"Impressive," Han grinned with frank admiration. "You gotta show me that move sometime." He looked down at her chest appreciatively, savoring the soft silhouette of her loose breasts beneath his shirt. "You still look sexy as hell wearing my clothes," Han commented gruff and low, and couldn't resist reaching for her, ready to forget the game.
"Ah-ah," Leia scolded, dodging his embrace, "I still have a tournament to win."
She did claim victory in the next round, but Han beat her at the one after that. Ultimately, in her shirt and underwear, Leia called the final sabacc. Han, already down to only his boxer briefs with nothing else left to remove, had to admit she was the champion.
Though he never said he'd be a good sport about it.
"Not fair," he alleged, easygoing in his claim of injustice. "You distracted me."
"That's not my fault, Flyboy. This was your idea. And you're the one who insisted I lose my bra." She gestured down to his left hand where it rested atop the dejarik table. "Perhaps if you weren't so busy fingering the cup you would have had more attention for the game."
Han laughed heartily. He had retrieved the bra when she first discarded it, savoring the warmth that lingered from her skin. He honestly hadn't realized he'd still been toying with it, but all around, it was a loss well worth it.
"Okay, Sweetheart. You win." He leaned in closer, moving his hand down from the table to pluck at the waistband of his boxer briefs. "Want me to take 'em off?" he offered.
He was teasing her, she knew, but with an eyebrow raised tantalizingly, Leia called his bluff. "What would you do if I said yes?"
Han inhaled long and slow, fighting the urge to pin her back against the booth. He had no hope at all when she turned provocative on him. "If that's what you wanted, they'd be gone in a heartbeat. Question is, what would we do next?"
He was playing along with her, incapable of not, but the truth was Han recognized the danger of the situation: the two of them alone, turned on, and nearly nude. Casually, not wanting it to seem like a rejection but at the same time not continuing down the ribald avenue this surely would take, Han eased out of the booth and began collecting their clothing from the floor. He was trying to be good.
Leia, on the other hand, still unrelentingly felt the ticking chrono. That looming threat of their time together coming to an end, along with a clinging sense of ill-ease about tomorrow's arrival and the ongoing need for distraction from that anxiousness, all added up to a willingness in her to test boundaries.
She followed him out of the booth like a nexu stalking its prey. "You know…" Settling back against the edge of the dejarik table, Leia eyed him with purpose. "…you once said Bespin would be the ideal place to seduce me."
Han balked at that description and was quick to correct it. "I didn't say 'seduce', and I didn't mean me. Just that the city, the atmosphere…well, the travelogs all say it's—"
"The City of Romance, I believe is what you called it."
"Not me, the—"
"I know, the travelogs," she waved away that detail. "But, Captain," Leia went on, lacing her voice with an unmistakable edge of sensuality, "you severely underestimate the romantic appeal of your bunkroom right here on the Falcon. No other place, no matter how lavish, can match the amorous merits of your bedroom, your bed."
A carnal smile spread across Han's features. "That so?" He let the pants he'd been gathering slip though his fingers back to the floor, freeing his hands to take hold of her waist and draw her to him.
"Mm-hm," she murmured, sliding her hands up his arms to settle at his shoulders. "Tucked into sheets that smell of you..."
"Hey, Worship, I do wash them," he protested playfully.
"…wondering which parts of you they've last touched…."
"Okay, never mind. I like where this is going."
Leia gave him a pleased smirk, aroused and wanting him to know she was aroused, wanting him to know he was the one who made her that way. It was only fair; she could already feel him hard against her. "Do you know how many missions I laid awake in your bed, not because of nightmares but because of you? Wanting you… tormented by the wanting and not having."
"Princess," he said with a defenseless, awed shake of his head, "you can have any part of me you want. Always could."
Leia pressed up on tiptoes to brush her mouth, soft and coaxing, along the underside of his jaw and across to the scar on his chin. She paused to meet his eyes, her breath ghosting hot over his lips, just a centim shy of touching hers.
Han shook his head again, as if trying to shake some sense — or blood flow — back into it. In only a thin shirt and panties — warm, ready, and inviting — she was too great a temptation to deny much longer. "What do you want me to do here, Leia?" he asked helplessly.
Her answer was a wayward smile, and then she kissed his mouth, long and lingering, breaking the kiss only to trail her lips up to his ear, sucking and teasing his lobe with her teeth and tongue before tracking back down to this mouth, where she rubbed her open lips enticingly over his. "What do you think I want?"
Pushed past his limit, Han growled, "This." In an instant, he swept his arm over the dejarik table, scattering the sabacc cards to the deckplates. Then he grabbed her flush to him, lifted her onto the table and pulled her thighs up over his hips, kissing her hungrily.
As their kisses escalated and grew in fervor, Han became dimly aware that he was no longer fully in control of himself. He was practically straining out of his boxer briefs, and it occurred to him how easily they could just push a few bits of fabric aside and bring this to completion. The way that Leia was flushed and moaning, arching her hips against him with need, he thought there was more than a fair chance she would be on board with it. The power of that thought built as she wrapped her legs fully around him, locking her ankles together at the small of his back to anchor her core against his erection.
Han held her hips firmly to him, encouraging the slow roll of hers — and gods, but it felt so good that he seriously contemplated trying to breach her panties and just waiting for her reaction to determine his next move. But that idea was held at bay, offset by the sobering knowledge that if this went as far as sex, she would likely hate herself for it and possibly him, too, as soon as it was over. By now, he was well familiar with her need to enter the world of sexual entanglements with a man who was not about to leave her.
"Leia, Leia," he panted, her lips still brushing over his as she resisted ending the kiss. "We've got to stop a minute. I have got to stop."
Han tenderly but firmly extricated himself from her, sweaty and shaking, pained with the effort of holding back. He took a deep, stuttering breath and ran a hand through his hair tensely as he stepped back away from her like it was torture.
Even that wasn't enough. He had to turn his back to her, needing to not be looking at Leia right now, with her bare legs, mussed hair, and pebbled nipples visibly poking out against her shirt.
Though she hadn't yet been ready to call an end to their amorous activities, Leia observed Han's suffering with contrite fascination. "Does…does this make it harder?" she ventured gently.
He burst into a delighted laugh, not entirely certain if that was a joke or curious naiveté, but either option charmed him. "Yes, you're making it harder," he archly assured her.
"No, I meant—" Leia held back a laugh now herself. "—hard, as in, difficult. I'm asking if it would be easier, better for you, if we weren't physically affectionate anymore. Not that there's much time left to be affectionate," she drily pointed out. "I know the starting and then stopping must be difficult for you. After how long you've waited for me, waited in general, you must be…pent-up. I know I am, and there are additional physical complications for men."
"Sweetheart, no one's ever died from a hard-on," Han said, turning back around to face her. "I do not want us to stop," he assured her. "Did you really think I'd say I wanted us to stop ever kissing or touching?"
"Not really, no," she admitted with a smile. "But I wanted to give you that out if it's ever too much for you. Too much by not being enough. It's a feeling I can relate to," she disclosed, in hopes he would know she didn't condemn him for it if he was experiencing that frustration. "I realize this must seem confusing, silly even. We're—"
Leia faltered, deliberating on word choice, unsure of the appropriate thing to call them. Was 'boyfriend and girlfriend' a term adults used? It sounded so juvenile to her. And 'lover' didn't seem right either when no sex was actually happening. Not to mention that the word struck her as simultaneously tawdry and cloyingly clichéd. 'Partner' perhaps, but that sounded more like they were about to run a mission than have a romantic relationship.
Finally, she settled for sidestepping labeling it altogether. "You want me, and I want you. It should be natural what follows — the simplest, most natural thing. And I have to go and make it complicated. I wish I could be normal about this."
"Leia, come on." He stepped back closer to her, putting his hand over hers where it rested on her thigh. "Don't say that. You are normal. You feel how you feel, and that's okay. Don't beat yourself up about it."
"Yes, but I know how contradictory it is. Things between us now are much further along than they were on Hoth, or even Ord Mantell, so it should be easier. It should be more instinctual to do now what we nearly did then. If only…"
She wavered, reluctant to open this back up but seeing no way around it. "We could endlessly argue the hows and whys, the necessity of you leaving or what alternatives there might be, but it changes nothing. You already know all my reasons, and I know all of yours. I don't agree with them, but I no longer fault you for them. I'm not trying to be difficult. I don't want to fight with you about this anymore. But at the end of the day, whether I understand or not, you're still going to go. Without me. Before, there was always the possibility that you might leave; now, you are. There's no if anymore, which was already a risk; now, it's only when. So you can see why it leaves me at an impasse."
"I get that, I do," Han granted. "And I'm not trying to change your mind. But you keep focusing on the fact that I'm leaving — which I am — but this leaving isn't leaving you, Leia. Need to make sure you recognize that. You know how I feel about you."
"I do," she confirmed, "but in some ways that only makes it harder. Because I'm no longer fighting you, I'm fighting myself. Right now is a perfect example. I started it, and I shouldn't start what I can't — won't — finish."
"Hey," he stopped her in a firmer voice than either was expecting, "you will never hear that 'gotta finish', blue balls shit from me."
"No, I—I wasn't implying you were thinking that," she hastened to explain. "I'm just — I'm saying it."
"I know, and I hate hearing you say it. An unresolved hard-on won't kill a guy, and it's not your responsibility to fix it for him — even if you did 'start it'. Yeah, he's got to wait till it calms back down, but I don't imagine that's much different for women. There's just not the visual evidence of it."
Han didn't like her talking like this, suggesting she was letting him down by not giving him sex. Yes, he needed to take a breath a minute ago, but he lived through it and was all right now. She was thrilling, and he loved every second of being physically affectionate with her, even without it leading anywhere further. "Leia, do you like kissing me?"
She glanced down at herself — sitting where he'd left her, perched on the edge of the dejarik table, shirt rucked up and thighs still open — then back up at him with a pointed look. "You know I do."
"And how do you feel afterwards?"
"Incredibly turned-on?" she divulged with a breathless laugh. "Is that an option?"
"That, Princess, is always an option."
She met his racy smirk with a further disclosure. "I don't know how to be around you and not want to kiss you. That's always been the problem, the wanting to. That, at least, is nothing new. Except now I actually have kissed you — and kissed you and kissed you. It's no longer only imagination. And now that I have, I don't know how to stop. I don't want to stop. Sometimes I don't trust myself."
"Then trust me." Han wove their fingers together, resolute and unyielding; displaying all the determination in this that she once thought he would have in taking her to bed. "Nothing's ever going to happen between us that you don't absolutely want to happen."
"That's just it, though: I do want it to happen. I do and I don't." Leia sighed, endlessly frustrated with herself. "I can't get it straight myself from one moment to the next. I know it must seem like a mixed message to you; it does to me." She hesitated, bit her lip. "But I've been going crazy wanting you, too. Look at you!"
She waved a hand vaguely over his nearly nude body: all that firm, tanned, golden skin…the ideal dusting of chest hair across his pecs, just right for working her fingers through…the most erotically masculine arms and hands she'd ever seen…toned abdominals that as he bent forward now with still-quickened breath clenched in perfect definition, begging to be kissed. "You could give a woman half a chance. It isn't fair to look so good."
The right side of Han's mouth turned up in that impossibly sensual half-smile, with a look part amorous and part flattered, genuinely delighted by such praise from her. "Oh, but it's fair for you to be so kriffin' adorable when you're hollering at me?" he retorted archly. "Or when you scrunch up your nose 'cause Janson said something clear past dirty all the way to crude? Your nose does that same adorable thing when you're trying not to sneeze. Or how about that gorgeous little crinkle you get right between your eyes—" He briefly touched the spot. "—when I've really pissed you off? That unbelievably hot glower you do? You think that's playing fair? Please. You've been walkin' around Hoth being damn sexy, every minute of every day."
"I've been walking around Hoth trying not to freeze my ass off."
"Hey, I offered to help you with that. It was a standing offer; all you had to do was say the word."
"There were nights I almost took you up on it."
"For the sex, or to stay warm?" Han questioned devilishly.
"Hmm…" Leia pretended to consider it. "It depended on the night. I can tell you that day on Ord Mantell, it had nothing to do with the temperature." She skimmed her hands down his back to settle on his hips, a lone fingertip slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers to dance along his lower spine. "You have no idea the things I've wanted to do to you."
He grunted in favor of that. "I'm right here, Worship. Go ahead and do 'em."
"Stop teasing me, Han," she said around a smile.
"I'm completely serious. Do 'em, Sweetheart. Do even half of 'em. Really wish you would." To further persuade her, he dropped his voice down to a sultry rumble. "Aliha sel valle volgoth,Leia?" He knew what that tone, what whispering to her in Olys, did to her. "What do you want? Show me."
With unsteady breath, she set him forward a little and scooted back a bit on the table to give herself room to work. Taking a moment first to openly admire his bare chest, Leia then set her hands to it, molding her palms over his pecs.
"Do you have any idea how desirable you are, Han?" she asked, her fingers slowly sliding down to map his abdominals.
After playing there for a while, she allowed her hand to slip lower than she'd ever before touched him to trace that tantalizing inguinal crease of his that had starred in her countless fantasies — someday she hoped to follow it with her tongue. "Goddess! You could be right out of the erotic novels Winter used to give me." She closed her eyes, trying to contain the desire to keep following the ligament where it disappeared down into his boxer briefs.
"That! That right there," Han declared triumphantly. Such a reaction was exactly the point of encouraging her to touch him in the first place. "That's the look of a thwarted lady hard-on. I know it goes both ways."
"Yes, it does," she readily admitted.
"And you still don't want us to stop," he emphasized, bringing them back to her original point. "Yeah, I look forward to the day when you don't hold back anymore, don't force it down, when you just let go and give over to it. That doesn't mean I'm not loving every second of what we're doing right now."
Leia believed that to be true. However, that still didn't mean he wasn't disappointed. "But you'd like sex more."
"So would you," he countered, not missing a beat.
"Fair point," she allowed, turned on by his confident certainty.
"Did you like touching me just now, Leia?"
She laughed, shaking her head at him. "Haven't you heard anything I've said?"
"Gotta confess, most of my blood's not going to my brain at the moment, but yeah, I heard you. I heard every gratifying —" He punctuated it with a kiss. "—sexy—" And another kiss. "—word. I just want you to remember it."
"Yes, I know," Leia obligingly affirmed even as she rolled her eyes, "you're the manliest of men."
"Ain't ashamed to admit it," Han winked at her. "But I meant remember you like touching me even without it going anywhere else. And I like it, too. Lots of things other than straight-out intercourse feel good, Leia. No matter how used to getting laid you think I am, lots of other things feel good. Both the doing and the receiving. I can touch you and kiss you and love you, any way you need me to, for hours — I mean it, hours — and it will feel damn kriffin' good to me, too. With you, kest, this and nothing more feels better than actual sex with anyone else."
That was a nice sentiment but one that could hardly be true, though she appreciated him for making the effort. "That's sweet, Han, but I seriously doubt it."
"Well, you shouldn't. Cause I have turned down actual sex, on several occasions," he informed her, "in favor of spending an evening just sitting next to you. So believe it: this is better. Sweetheart, you don't have to have sex with me to keep me interested, or to show that you care. Sex isn't very good at either. Otherwise, beings wouldn't pay for it, or have it with complete strangers."
Leia placed her hand against his cheek and Han turned his face into it, placing an open-mouthed kiss to her palm. Then, suddenly, she was grasping his neck with both hands, pulling his mouth down to hers for an ardent kiss. "That only makes me want you more," she breathed against his lips, kissing them one more time before turning her attentions down his throat. "I told you it isn't fair."
"My not seducing you turns you on?" he asked in pleasant disbelief, one of his hands alighting just above her bare knee.
"Yes," she enthused, and he wasn't sure if she was answering his question or just moaning her approval but either option was all right by him. "Because it means you're more concerned for my feelings than you are for your own satisfaction. And that is incredibly sexy." The way she reflexively edged her leg forward, urging his touch higher, unequivocally proved the point.
"In that case, Highness, when you come find me at the end of tonight's watch shift, I'm going to have to absolutely insist you not walk into the cockpit naked…."
"Oh, I see, you're going to try Jedi mind tricks on me." She brought her lips up from his clavicle to set her forehead to his, smiling. "I thought Han Solo doesn't believe in the Force?"
Han grinned salaciously. "I believe in this force." And he nudged his hips against her, demonstrating.
"Mmm, may it be with me…" she pertly approved.
A deep laugh rumbled from his chest, his head thrown back as if his neck itself couldn't contain his amusement. "Always."
"Shut up and kiss me, Hotshot," Leia requested around a giggle, and didn't even bother to wait, kissing him hard herself. Still, she broke away again after only a moment and prompted, "But speaking of tonight's shift, it must be nearly time for you to relieve Chewie."
"Yeah, probably is," he muttered, not at all enthused at the idea, much more interested in staying right there with her.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you're no Jedi," she reported. "Your mind tricks didn't work on me. I won't be walking in nude later."
"Don't need mind tricks. You're the one who said it gets you going when I don't try to throw myself at you. And when I look this good," he added roguishly, waggling his bare chest at her that only moments ago she couldn't keep her hands off.
"I did say that," Leia acknowledged, "but I've held out for three very long years. So no matter how good you look, I'm sure I can withstand it," she issued the competitive taunt, giving a scorching glimpse of what their sex life could be.
Han refrained from pointing out that she was barely withstanding now. Because buried in there was an even more tantalizing tidbit, and his eyes danced in wicked triumph. "So you admit, once and for all, that you've wanted me in your bed since Yavin."
"I admit nothing," she rebutted around a sly smile.
"That so?" His fingers flexed against her thigh. "I can work it out of you…." he boasted with the swagger she'd always found maddeningly alluring.
Leia wavered; he could see surrender all over her features. They'd been sharing his bunk for nearly the entire journey and Han had behaved himself, never once overstepping the boundaries of intimacy she'd set. But tonight, they were like a live wire. Three years or not, she was self-aware enough to know that right now she was the one who couldn't be trusted. "I'll admit to nothing —except that it's time to get dressed."
At the disappointment in her own tone, Han smirked but complied. "I like the way you're dressed now just fine, but alright, have it your way, Princess."
He set her hips back a discreet distance from him and she laughed, kissing the tip of his nose before sliding down from the table. Han started to gather their discarded clothes again, turning to hand Leia her bra from where it had fallen under the table.
Now that he was no longer pressed against her, she could clearly see his predicament and gave him a rueful smile. "Chewie can spare you a few minutes more. Go to the fresher and have a cold-water shower," she suggested. "That will help cool you down, Hotshot," she purred, running her hand rather counterproductively over his chest.
Han dipped down to peck her lips affectionately before she stepped back away from him to collect her pants. As she moved, his eyes honed in on the wiggle of her loose breasts, bouncing so invitingly beneath her shirt, and he gave a pained groan. "That's never gonna happen if you keep lookin' like that."
"Another good reason for us to get dressed. Maybe while you're in the fresher, you should…do whatever else it takes to find some relief," she hinted. Eyeing his profoundly ready erection, Leia shifted from one foot to the next, wiggling her pelvis slightly against her own damp need. "I may do the same thing out in our bunk," she only half-teased, drawing her fingers from her chest down to her navel along skin that begged to be touched.
Han's eyes sparked with lustful possibilities. "Can I stay and watch?" he asked hopefully. "Maybe we do it together?"
"Nice try. Into the fresher, Flyboy!"
"Yeah, yeah…"