fic: we are turning in revolution (Star Wars; Luke/Leia; pg)
Okay, let's be real, the surprise here isn't that I've written twincest (or even how long it's taken me to write it in this fandom) but that it turned out to be totally pg-rated. I don't even know.
we are turning in revolution
Star Wars; Luke/Leia (Han/Leia); pg; 1,325 words
Leia isn't surprised when she wakes up hungover and with Luke in her bunk the morning after the Death Star is destroyed.
Title from Vienna Teng. Thanks to everyone on Tumblr who came up with a good GFFA equivalent of 'getting to second base' etc., even if I didn't end up using any of them in this story. <3
Or read it on AO3.
~*~
we are turning in revolution
Leia isn't surprised when she wakes up the morning after the Death Star has been destroyed with a hangover headache and the warmth of another body in her rack with her. They'd drunk enough Corellian ale to float an armada (Leia has never questioned where the pilots get it, but they always seem to have a supply stashed somewhere), and she thinks there might have been some shots of Ithorian liqueur in there as well. At least, her mouth tastes like an unholy combination of terrible and juniper.
She remembers in flashes: Luke's arm around her shoulders as they'd stumbled back to her bunk, the brightness of his surprised expression when she'd pulled him inside and kissed him, his mouth warm and sweet against hers. The way he'd ducked his head bashfully when he'd admitted he'd never gotten his hands in anyone's pants before, let alone a princess's, and the look of adoration on his face when she'd tipped his chin up to kiss him again. She hadn't admitted it was her first time too; one of them had to be in charge, after all, and that at least she's had years of experience with.
They'd fumbled awkwardly at first, but there's been a sense of connection between them since they met, and it clicked into place when she moved over him, full and aching and desperate to reach that bright space in her mind where she could forget the galaxy existed while supernovae of pleasure exploded inside her. She'd had to finish herself off with her fingers after Luke came, but he was so apologetic and embarrassed that she can't hold it against him.
It could have been anybody, Solo or Antilles or one of the command or intelligence staff, but she's glad it was Luke.
He groans softly into the crook of her shoulder, his hair tickling the nape of her neck as he shifts. She turns just far enough to catch his lips in a quick kiss when he raises his head, and he gives her a wide grin when they part.
"That was--" he says, "it was amazing, Leia. I mean, Princess. I mean. Thank you."
He might be an excellent pilot but he's not very good with words. Luckily, she finds it endearing. Hopefully she won't ruin everything with what she's got to say now.
"It was," she replies, feeling her own mouth curve into a matching grin. "Thank you, too." She moves and he moves with her, allowing her to turn in the small space to face him, so she can touch his cheek gently. "No one can know, though. You understand, right?"
He blinks, and she can see the way things click into place. She holds her breath, afraid that she's lost him, but he nods. "Yeah, I understand." He sounds rueful but not angry, so she kisses him again. "Now I better get out of here before anyone sees me."
"Thank you," she whispers, and the smile he gives her is genuine.
After he leaves, she allows herself a moment to bask in what they've done, and then she has to get back to work.
*
She doesn't intend for it to happen again. She knows there's something brewing between her and Captain Solo, something involving feelings that make her both more irritated and more alive than she's ever felt, but with Luke, it's so easy. He almost seems to know when she needs him, when she's so tense or angry that nothing but shoving him down on the floor of an empty storeroom or wrapping her legs around him and fucking against a bulkhead will calm her down. Nothing in the universe feels so right as having him inside her and around her, a closed circle that nothing else can penetrate.
He still looks at her like she's the greatest thing he's ever seen, and he still treats her like the best friend he's ever had, and he doesn't seem to resent the fact that she's using him. Maybe he's getting something out of it as well. After all, he lost everything too, when he came to rescue her. It might not have been his whole planet, but it was his whole world. She can't let herself forget that, despite the easy way he smiles and the gracious way he keeps her secrets.
"It's okay," he tells her when she comes to him in his rack a few weeks after they lost Han (and Luke lost his hand) at Bespin. "He loves you. I don't think he'd hold it against you."
"Do you?"
He looks at her, that bright blue gaze no longer as eager and innocent as it once was. Something is haunting him, and she has a fierce desire to hunt it down and kill it so he'll never look as hollow and lost as he had in those moments after they'd rescued him beneath Cloud City. (It, she thinks bitterly, as though she doesn't know that it's Vader, always Vader, who has done this to all of them.)
"Love you? Yes. Hold it against you? No." He gathers her close and presses a kiss to the top of her head. He makes her feel safe in a way she knows is both true and dangerous, because nothing that isn't within the circle of their arms is safe, and she knows that in her bones. But he also makes her feel more like herself, like Leia instead of the Princess or the Senator, and maybe she does that for him as well, lets him be Luke, rather than the hero of the rebellion, the pilot who destroyed the Death Star, the man whose bounty outstrips even her own and whom the Imperials would do anything to get their hands on.
Her hands don't shake as she unfastens the clasps of his tunic, and her eyes don't well up at the tenderness with which he touches her as he lays her back onto the thin mattress in his bunk. At least, that's how she'll choose to remember it.
"Whatever happens, Leia, know that we're in it together," he tells her as he pushes inside her and the galaxy narrows down to the space between them.
*
The celebrations on Endor's forest moon last for several days, and Leia makes the most of the time with Han. But when she doesn't see Luke when she comes up for air, she tracks him down. It's easy, now that she knows how, knows that the connection between them is real and strong in the Force.
"Hey," she says when she finds him sitting at the base of a giant tree, looking only slightly better than he had when he'd come back to her with news of the Emperor's death and Vader's (their father's) body in his shuttle.
He gives her a small, sad smile. "Hey."
She settles on the ground beside him and tugs his arm over her shoulder. She fits against him perfectly, she always has, and now she knows why.
"I don't feel bad," she says.
He looks surprised or maybe just curious. (He feels amused, though, which amuses her.) "About what?"
She gestures vaguely, the sweep of her hand encompassing everything that's happened over the past few years. "Any of it."
Now he's definitely curious, so she leans in and presses a kiss to his mouth. His lips are warm and chapped against hers, but still right in a way few things in her life have ever been. She could be bitter, that this is yet one more thing Vader's taken from her, but she isn't. Luke is alive and still with her, deep inside, in her heart and in the Force.
"Oh," he says when she pulls back. "Maybe I should," he concedes, "but I don't either." His smile is still small, but a little less sad now, a little more secretive. "When I said we were in this together, Leia, I meant it."
Leia smiles in return. "I know."
end
~*~
Feedback is adored.
~*~
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/848813.html.
people have commented there.
we are turning in revolution
Star Wars; Luke/Leia (Han/Leia); pg; 1,325 words
Leia isn't surprised when she wakes up hungover and with Luke in her bunk the morning after the Death Star is destroyed.
Title from Vienna Teng. Thanks to everyone on Tumblr who came up with a good GFFA equivalent of 'getting to second base' etc., even if I didn't end up using any of them in this story. <3
Or read it on AO3.
~*~
we are turning in revolution
Leia isn't surprised when she wakes up the morning after the Death Star has been destroyed with a hangover headache and the warmth of another body in her rack with her. They'd drunk enough Corellian ale to float an armada (Leia has never questioned where the pilots get it, but they always seem to have a supply stashed somewhere), and she thinks there might have been some shots of Ithorian liqueur in there as well. At least, her mouth tastes like an unholy combination of terrible and juniper.
She remembers in flashes: Luke's arm around her shoulders as they'd stumbled back to her bunk, the brightness of his surprised expression when she'd pulled him inside and kissed him, his mouth warm and sweet against hers. The way he'd ducked his head bashfully when he'd admitted he'd never gotten his hands in anyone's pants before, let alone a princess's, and the look of adoration on his face when she'd tipped his chin up to kiss him again. She hadn't admitted it was her first time too; one of them had to be in charge, after all, and that at least she's had years of experience with.
They'd fumbled awkwardly at first, but there's been a sense of connection between them since they met, and it clicked into place when she moved over him, full and aching and desperate to reach that bright space in her mind where she could forget the galaxy existed while supernovae of pleasure exploded inside her. She'd had to finish herself off with her fingers after Luke came, but he was so apologetic and embarrassed that she can't hold it against him.
It could have been anybody, Solo or Antilles or one of the command or intelligence staff, but she's glad it was Luke.
He groans softly into the crook of her shoulder, his hair tickling the nape of her neck as he shifts. She turns just far enough to catch his lips in a quick kiss when he raises his head, and he gives her a wide grin when they part.
"That was--" he says, "it was amazing, Leia. I mean, Princess. I mean. Thank you."
He might be an excellent pilot but he's not very good with words. Luckily, she finds it endearing. Hopefully she won't ruin everything with what she's got to say now.
"It was," she replies, feeling her own mouth curve into a matching grin. "Thank you, too." She moves and he moves with her, allowing her to turn in the small space to face him, so she can touch his cheek gently. "No one can know, though. You understand, right?"
He blinks, and she can see the way things click into place. She holds her breath, afraid that she's lost him, but he nods. "Yeah, I understand." He sounds rueful but not angry, so she kisses him again. "Now I better get out of here before anyone sees me."
"Thank you," she whispers, and the smile he gives her is genuine.
After he leaves, she allows herself a moment to bask in what they've done, and then she has to get back to work.
*
She doesn't intend for it to happen again. She knows there's something brewing between her and Captain Solo, something involving feelings that make her both more irritated and more alive than she's ever felt, but with Luke, it's so easy. He almost seems to know when she needs him, when she's so tense or angry that nothing but shoving him down on the floor of an empty storeroom or wrapping her legs around him and fucking against a bulkhead will calm her down. Nothing in the universe feels so right as having him inside her and around her, a closed circle that nothing else can penetrate.
He still looks at her like she's the greatest thing he's ever seen, and he still treats her like the best friend he's ever had, and he doesn't seem to resent the fact that she's using him. Maybe he's getting something out of it as well. After all, he lost everything too, when he came to rescue her. It might not have been his whole planet, but it was his whole world. She can't let herself forget that, despite the easy way he smiles and the gracious way he keeps her secrets.
"It's okay," he tells her when she comes to him in his rack a few weeks after they lost Han (and Luke lost his hand) at Bespin. "He loves you. I don't think he'd hold it against you."
"Do you?"
He looks at her, that bright blue gaze no longer as eager and innocent as it once was. Something is haunting him, and she has a fierce desire to hunt it down and kill it so he'll never look as hollow and lost as he had in those moments after they'd rescued him beneath Cloud City. (It, she thinks bitterly, as though she doesn't know that it's Vader, always Vader, who has done this to all of them.)
"Love you? Yes. Hold it against you? No." He gathers her close and presses a kiss to the top of her head. He makes her feel safe in a way she knows is both true and dangerous, because nothing that isn't within the circle of their arms is safe, and she knows that in her bones. But he also makes her feel more like herself, like Leia instead of the Princess or the Senator, and maybe she does that for him as well, lets him be Luke, rather than the hero of the rebellion, the pilot who destroyed the Death Star, the man whose bounty outstrips even her own and whom the Imperials would do anything to get their hands on.
Her hands don't shake as she unfastens the clasps of his tunic, and her eyes don't well up at the tenderness with which he touches her as he lays her back onto the thin mattress in his bunk. At least, that's how she'll choose to remember it.
"Whatever happens, Leia, know that we're in it together," he tells her as he pushes inside her and the galaxy narrows down to the space between them.
*
The celebrations on Endor's forest moon last for several days, and Leia makes the most of the time with Han. But when she doesn't see Luke when she comes up for air, she tracks him down. It's easy, now that she knows how, knows that the connection between them is real and strong in the Force.
"Hey," she says when she finds him sitting at the base of a giant tree, looking only slightly better than he had when he'd come back to her with news of the Emperor's death and Vader's (their father's) body in his shuttle.
He gives her a small, sad smile. "Hey."
She settles on the ground beside him and tugs his arm over her shoulder. She fits against him perfectly, she always has, and now she knows why.
"I don't feel bad," she says.
He looks surprised or maybe just curious. (He feels amused, though, which amuses her.) "About what?"
She gestures vaguely, the sweep of her hand encompassing everything that's happened over the past few years. "Any of it."
Now he's definitely curious, so she leans in and presses a kiss to his mouth. His lips are warm and chapped against hers, but still right in a way few things in her life have ever been. She could be bitter, that this is yet one more thing Vader's taken from her, but she isn't. Luke is alive and still with her, deep inside, in her heart and in the Force.
"Oh," he says when she pulls back. "Maybe I should," he concedes, "but I don't either." His smile is still small, but a little less sad now, a little more secretive. "When I said we were in this together, Leia, I meant it."
Leia smiles in return. "I know."
end
~*~
Feedback is adored.
~*~
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/848813.html.
people have commented there.