Definitions of Destiny: Chapter 13
Title: Definitions of Destiny
Author: Caryn B
Fandom: Star Wars (film canon only - see notes)
Timeline: 6 months after RotJ
Pairing: Luke/Han, slash
Rating: NC-17 overall; this chapter NC-17 (not very graphic)
Warnings: None
The list of chapters is here
Chapter 13
"Is this a bad time?"
Han shook his head, aware that his expression still wore a trace of his former disgruntlement. He moved back to let Luke in, trying to remain as laid-back as possible until he'd determined why Luke had come.
"I've finished for the day. Thought you were gonna be Lando."
"You didn't expect me at all, did you?"
"I know you've been busy."
"But that's not why you didn't think I'd come."
Han shrugged. "Thought you'd want some time to yourself seein' as I've messed you about."
"You haven't messed me about. I'm managing to do that well enough by myself."
"I haven't exactly helped."
Luke walked over to the window and glanced out. A loud shout from below filled the room, although the words were incomprehensible. A burst of laughter followed it, and Luke leaned forwards, looking down onto the concourse below.
"Someone's havin' fun," Han remarked.
Luke turned round. "I had to do another shift yesterday 'cause Wes injured his foot. It meant working most of the night. And I saw Leia the night before. We trained together. I wanted to see you afterwards, but it was so late-"
"I wouldn't have cared how late it was."
"It wasn't just the time. It wouldn't have seemed... right. Things have got so confused - it's hard to explain."
"You don't need to explain anything. It's obvious, ain't it? Did you say anything to Leia?"
"No. And that felt wrong too. But she's not the only reason I can't work things out."
"It's because you don't know what you wanna do with your life, and I've just made things worse."
"It's not that either, although it's true I don't know what I should be doing. It's more that... it didn't feel wrong between us."
Something like hope surged in Han's chest for a moment, before he damped it down. Where Luke was concerned nothing was simple, and if something had felt right to him he'd be looking for the deeper meaning beneath it, rather than accepting it for what it was.
"And that's a problem 'cause you think it should've done," he stated bluntly.
"Obviously there are things that seem wrong and I'm not trying to dismiss them. Leia-"
"And that's one of the ways I've messed you about. It wasn't fair to spring it on you straight away. Wasn't fair on Leia either."
"I don't think she sees it like that. You could've waited a whole year, but it wouldn't have changed the facts. Knowing what she does, she'd rather something more definite happened so she can start to move on. I can see her point, but it doesn't make it any easier."
"And that's what you're leading up to - isn't it? That it's time to make a decision so you can move on, one way or the other."
"I keep going over everything in my head," Luke admitted. "I wonder if I've been missing the whole point of Ben and Yoda's teachings, because I'm supposed to be able to trust my feelings. But they don't match the way I know I should feel."
"So maybe you oughta trust yourself more. If something seems right to you, why's it gotta be such a problem?"
"Because I keep thinking of Vader. What did he want so badly that he turned his back on the Jedi order and all its rules in order to get it? What was it the Emperor used to drag him down?"
"You don't know what he wanted and you don't know why he turned. You don't even know for sure it was the Emperor's doing."
Luke shook his head slowly. "No. If I did know for sure, things might be a lot easier."
Or they might be a lot worse, Han thought. "Well you know what I want and I ain't gonna pretend otherwise. But I won't try pushin' you into anything, so whatever you decide, I won't interfere."
Luke fell silent and turned back round to look out of the window again. Han paced the floor a couple of times, unsure where to take the conversation next. Playing for time, he moved over to his crate of possessions.
"I'm gonna get a drink. D'you want one? Or d'you have to rush off?"
"I don't have to rush off anywhere. I was hoping you'd have time to talk."
Han rooted around in the crate, searching for the bottle of redgrain spirit that Luke liked. He handed it, together with a passably clean beaker, to Luke.
Luke took it with a smile and watched while Han poured himself a large mug of brandy. He moved across to sit on Han's bed, leaning back against the wall and propping the spirit bottle up beside his legs.
They sat in silence for a while, each occupied with their own thoughts. Han spent several long moments just considering Luke, wondering how it was that someone who appeared to be so calm and peaceful on the surface could be a person of such extremes. Because Luke was that, even though the extremes weren't the glaringly obvious sort.
It was the little things. Like he didn't just like spicy food, he liked searingly hot, strip-the-skin-from-your-mouth spicy food. The sort that made your lips turn numb, and brought you out in a hot sweat. At least, it did Han. It was the same with the redgrain spirit. That was no mellow, mild liquor and despite its innocuous looks it deserved to come with a safety warning. But, naturally, Luke liked it. He didn't go for bland, and he didn't go for average. And when Luke trained, he didn't just push himself hard, he launched himself into the most exhausting, punishing regimes possible, determined to channel every last bit of energy into his routines.
In fact, Luke's whole life had been like that ever since Han had met him. And it was typical that he should come from a desert world baked by two suns, living every day under extremes of heat and glare. Anywhere more moderate just wouldn't have suited him. And he dived right into the craziest situations. Most people might've started their battles with the Empire on a smaller scale, but Luke, of course, began with the Death Star. It was like he just stood up, looked around, spotted the most dangerous circumstances, and walked on over.
"Mon Mothma's asked me to go to Polis Massa," Luke said suddenly, interrupting the silence and startling Han out of his contemplation of Luke.
"Where the hell's that?"
"Somewhere in the Outer Rim. There's not much there. It's just an asteroid, but it's got a settlement of sorts."
"Why does she want you to go there?"
"It's not just me. She wants me to go with Senator Danu. The place had strong links with the Old Republic during the Clone Wars. Especially with the Jedi."
Han shook his head, puzzled. "That doesn't answer my question."
"The Polis Massans contacted her a few months ago - not long after the Emperor died. They want to re-establish contact with the rest of the galaxy, and especially with the Jedi. I suppose they heard something..."
"The whole galaxy heard about you in just a few days. But why didn't she ask you before?"
Luke hesitated. "She said she'd thought it was too soon. She wanted to give me time to find my feet, and she didn't know if I wanted that kind of role. It's one thing going somewhere as a Rogue who just happens to be a Jedi, but going as some sort of Jedi Ambassador is a different thing altogether."
"Yeah," Han agreed, wondering at the vagueness that lay beneath Luke's explanation. "Where does Danu fit in? Is he the one who's just come out of exile? Have you spoken to him?"
"Yes. And that's the strange thing. When Mon Mothma mentioned the possibility of going, Danu looked like he knew something about the place. And I'm pretty certain he'd already talked to Mon Mothma about going somewhere with me, even though he made out it was all news to him. It all feels... odd."
"Odd how?"
"I don't know. I think Mon Mothma held off from mentioning it for some other reason. I got the idea she thinks there's something there for me. Something to do with those old links with the Jedi Order. She claims not to know anything though."
Han studied Luke for a few moments. "So you think this is gonna have some bearing on you deciding what you wanna do?"
"Yes," Luke admitted. He returned Han's gaze steadily. "But it's not Polis Massa I'm thinking of. I doubt there'll be any answers there. It's Danu himself. If I go with him, it'll give me a chance to discover everything he knows."
"Knows about what?"
"My mother."
Han was struck by the perception that something almost within his grasp had slipped a little further away, although he didn't know quite why he should feel so ill at ease. "Danu knows who your mother was?" he asked eventually.
Luke gave a small shrug. "He's not certain at all. He had no idea that Anakin Skywalker had become Vader. But he was close to the Jedi during the Clone Wars and he was part of the first Rebel Alliance group. Friends with Mon Mothma and Bail Organa. And he was friendly with another member of their group because she had sympathies with the Jedi like he did."
"Another senator?"
Luke nodded. "Danu says she had a deeper friendship with at least one of the Jedi. But she also had a lot of secrets. Danu told me she'd hidden her pregnancy away like it was something... sinful."
Han frowned. "Did she tell Danu she was involved with a Jedi?"
"No. She said nothing at all, either about the pregnancy or about seeing a Jedi. He only had his suspicions."
"But the father could've been anyone," Han argued. "And just 'cause she knew a Jedi didn't mean she was sleeping with him."
"I know. But it's not just Danu's instincts. It's Mon Mothma's too."
So Han listened in silence while Luke described in detail his first meeting with Mon Mothma, and then the one he'd just come from in Mon Mothma's apartment.
After Luke had finished, Han moved to the other side of the room, resting a shoulder against the wall by the window and trying to rid himself of the unease that had pretty much cancelled out the calming effects of the brandy.
"So when are you gonna go to this asteroid?"
"Tomorrow."
The dismay was instant, and Han knew it showed across his face. He didn't bother to hide it. "I s'ppose you don't know how long you'll stay?"
"It'll be at least three days once we arrive - and it'll take us about the same length of time to get there," Luke said. "Mon Mothma wants Danu to try and persuade the Polis Massans to share their medical research with the Alliance. And because of the past links with the Jedi she thinks my presence might swing the balance in our favor."
"You might be gone a helluva lot longer then."
"I've been on assignments before that've lasted a lot longer," Luke pointed out.
"But you've always wanted to come back."
Luke stared at him. "I want to come back from this one."
Han didn't say anything, so Luke put the bottle and beaker down on the floor, pushed off the bed and walked over to him. "These worries I have about what to do... they don't mean I want to get away from you. I want to be with you."
Han didn't reply and tried to cover up his obvious silence by sipping his brandy slowly, telling himself he was reading the wrong meanings into things yet again.
"D'you want me to leave you alone?" Luke asked, cutting into Han's thoughts.
"Nope. Why - d'you wanna go?"
Luke shook his head. "But staying isn't the right thing either is it? The last thing I want to do is to cause any more damage."
Han put his drink down on the ledge beneath the window and placed his hands on Luke's shoulders. "Listen - that night in Jira you made it clear you couldn't make any sorta commitment. Anything I chose to do after that was down to me, and it's my problem if I can't handle it, not yours. You've never pretended it was gonna be easy."
Luke ran a hand up Han's arm. "Have we ever done anything easily?" he asked with a half smile.
"Not that I can think of," Han grinned. "I might've led a trouble-free life if I hadn't met you though."
"Being hunted down by Jabba counted as trouble free?"
Han shrugged. "When you weigh it up against everything else - yeah."
"Oh, right," Luke laughed. "Well, at least you've never needed to complain about being bored." He moved up closer to Han. "Not that I'm implying you ever complain about anything else."
"Hey, I'm easy to please."
"Really?"
"Well, not that easy..." Han tailed off distractedly, caught up in the warmth of Luke's gaze and the nearness of him.
"Luke..." he started, not sure of what he wanted to say, but somehow it didn't seem to matter any more because Luke's arms had wound around him and pulled him up close.
"I've missed you," he ended up saying instead, sliding his fingers into Luke's hair and grazing his lips against Luke's cheek. "Stay with me tonight, huh?"
Luke's reply was to lift his head, his lips meeting Han's with just the faintest hint of a sigh. Han's fingers entwined themselves more tightly in Luke's hair as Luke's hands moved up behind Han's neck. Han could feel the heat of Luke's body radiating from him and he moved further into the comfort of it.
The need to be close to Luke was part of an all-encompassing craving that'd overridden Han's former doubts, and even if he had the capacity to question the wisdom of his actions he'd still choose to be with Luke this way. Han knew he was setting himself up for much greater hurt if Luke's reasoning led him towards the solitary life he considered might be essential, but in this moment he'd gone beyond logic.
There was just Luke, with the fiery taste of redgrain spirit on his lips and the clean scent of 'fresher gel on his skin. Luke, who'd admitted that he couldn't make these feelings between them seem wrong, despite all the obstacles in their way.
And neither could Han. Even the muted warnings in the back of his mind couldn't dim the rush of desire that flooded through him, just as it had that night in Jira. But now Han wanted more. He wanted the press of Luke's body against his, the brush of Luke's breath against his flesh, and the glide of skin beneath his palms.
He pulled back from Luke's encircling arms to fix his gaze on Luke, noting how Luke's eyes seemed to reflect all the turbulent thoughts that Han couldn't hide.
He felt he should say something, just to make it clear that he'd understood everything Luke had told him. "I'm not gonna demand anything. No ties. No strings attached..."
Luke shook his head but Han knew it wasn't a dismissal of his promise, just a wordless attempt by Luke to quieten his concerns. And then Luke reached out to take hold of one of Han's hands and moved back towards the bed, pulling Han with him.
It should've felt more familiar to Han - he'd made love to Luke in every stray thought that'd crept up on him since Jira. But instead it was all so new and different, and Han's fingers struggled with the fastenings of a tunic he'd seen Luke wear many times before. He was somewhere in between the impatience of lust, and the slow recognition of amazement that stemmed from the simple fact that Luke was here with him at all. After three days of telling himself to hope for nothing, aware of the dangers in wanting what might be out of reach, Han was intent on absorbing the reality of Luke's physical presence.
So now he observed the rise and fall of Luke's chest, and studied the way his hands, tracing the indentations of Luke's ribs, brought a soft shiver to the surface of Luke's skin. He leaned down to run his lips across a bared shoulder and over Luke's throat, lingering over the pulse that thrummed beneath his tongue.
He moved back up to kiss Luke again, holding off the urgency of need by focusing on that same sense of wonderment, searching Luke with his tongue until Luke shifted restively beneath him and groaned quietly into Han's mouth.
Han framed Luke's face with his hands, his words filled with a quiet dissent that he couldn't conceal. "Dunno how this can be wrong. Feels so good to be with you."
Luke lifted his fingers to Han's lips. "Don't," he murmured. "Just let things work out."
Han kissed Luke's fingers. "But it won't go away, will it?"
Luke said nothing, but pulled Han's head down instead, kissing him fiercely, the grip of his fingers tightening as he strained to mold their bodies together. The contact wasn't enough for either of them. Luke half pushed and half rolled Han over, sat up and struggled to free his arms from the now tangled tunic. He threw it onto the floor and turned his attention to Han's shirt.
Han watched Luke as he tugged at the buttons, the concentration on his face vying with frustration at his new-found lack of co-ordination. It was all still there in Luke - the impulsiveness and the fiery nature that those who knew him only slightly never guessed at. It all came together in a single moment when Luke lost patience with the shirt and pulled it unceremoniously over Han's head.
Sparing just a second for a fleeting smile of recognition for his own impetuous behavior, Luke reached out to touch Han.
To feel Luke's hands on his body produced something close to shock deep inside, as though it'd finally dawned on Han just how closely Luke's yearning for him mirrored Han's for Luke. It threatened to allow that hunger he was just containing to take over, but the side of him that needed to burn every second of their encounter into his brain kept him balanced. He was halfway ready to lose control, but still reluctant to relinquish it.
As Luke's fingertips trailed across his chest and down his abdomen, he felt the tremor behind them and knew that Luke's battle for that same balance was even greater.
Han hauled Luke close and slid his palms down Luke's back. Warmth and smoothness and shudders that anticipated his touch, before his fingers encountered the roughness of partially-healed grazes.
Surprised, Han pulled back, meeting Luke's puzzled gaze.
"That's from the other night?"
Luke's confused frown deepened. "What?"
Han took hold of Luke's shoulders and twisted him around to study his back. Three days on, and the cuts on Luke's lower back remained only as irregular, raised patches, but the bruises hadn't yet begun to fade. Han ran his fingers carefully over the evidence of his own lack of care that night.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize..."
Luke shook his head, amusement in his voice. "It wasn't you, it was the wall."
"Yeah, 'n I was the one who shoved you against it."
"Han," Luke swiveled back round to face him, "d'you think I care about a few bruises? And anyway, that wasn't how it was."
"'S how I remember it."
"That's because you're doing that apologizing thing again. But there were two of us involved that night - it's as much my fault as yours."
Han wanted to protest further, but Luke placed a hand over Han's mouth. "I don't wanna hear it," he insisted, with a smile that made Han's breath catch in his throat. Luke took his hand away. "Why don't you come back here instead?"
Impossible not to, and Han caught Luke's mouth with his own, lowering him back down onto the bed and bringing their bodies tightly together. Han could feel Luke's need for him in the hunger of his kiss and the subtle vibration of a moan in his throat. It was there in the tension of his body, and the instinctive rise of his hips. And it was there in the sharp gasp that escaped from Luke's lips as Han moved against him with a sudden, swift vehemence.
And Han could almost sense the conflict within Luke too. There was the impulsion of desire that left unchecked would most likely have run wild and left Han reeling. And set against it was the strength of Luke's will-power, because Han knew that somehow Luke understood what it was that Han wanted. Guessed that Han felt compelled to memorize each moment in order to hold the knowledge of Luke's body inside himself when Luke had gone.
Han wanted to alleviate all his disquiet and all his insecurities by holding Luke, to avert his fear of losing Luke with the touch of his hands on Luke's skin. But with his legs entangled with Luke's and every nerve in his body fired up from only the simplest contact, it was becoming more and more difficult to center himself.
He forced himself to move away again, just a little, but enough to draw a soft groan of objection from Luke. But the protest changed to something close to a demand when Han slid his fingertips just below the waistband of Luke's pants, the gesture both a promise and an attempt to soothe the simmering anticipation he could see in Luke's eyes.
His fingers found the clasp of Luke's belt. Slowly he pulled it from the belt loops and tossed it to the floor on top of his shirt. Reached for Luke's comlink and removed it from around Luke's wrist. He studied the communicator for just a few seconds, then switched it off and threw it aside.
Luke watched him through half-closed eyes, his breathing uneven and raggedly audible. When Han reached for Luke's boots and pulled them off to join the growing pile of items on the floor, he suspected that something in Luke was about to give. The thought crawled through Han's insides, arousal clogging his airways and burning in his blood. He was painfully, achingly hard, and each murmur that broke from Luke's lips inflamed him further.
Han saw how Luke's fingers clutched at the sheet beneath when he ran the palm of a hand over the hard jut of Luke's erection, aware of the fierce heat through the remaining layers of cloth. Heard the hiss of an in-drawn breath and noticed Luke's knuckles turn white as he stripped away the last of Luke's clothes and flung the remainder of his own garments down with them.
It felt like belonging. Felt like something he'd been searching for all his life when he wrapped his arms around Luke. Everything else - the problems, the guilt, the uncertainty for the future - had faded to nothing. With his tongue in Luke's mouth he felt, more than heard, all the low throaty sounds that Luke made. And with his hands on Luke's body again, possessive and greedy, he discovered what it was like to lose himself totally to another person.
Luke's resolve was wavering on the edge of breaking, and Han could see in him all the restless, wanton energy just waiting beneath the surface. As he trailed the tips of two fingers along the inside of Luke's lower lip, the slow shiver that passed through Luke traveled simultaneously across Han's whole body, and he knew that raw instinct was about to take over.
It took just a moment more to happen. He sought Luke's mouth again with his own, and pushed a thigh between Luke's knees in a mute demand for something more intimate. He felt the rapid tensing of Luke's muscles as he moved a hand down Luke's body. Just the merest brush of his fingers was enough to make Luke's control snap, his harsh exclamation going no further than Han's mouth and his body twisting upwards, searching for contact with Han.
There was no time to find a joint rhythm. There was just an all-consuming urge to push himself and Luke to the edge of falling. It obliterated every thought of Han's, leaving him aware of little but the feel of Luke's fingers gripping his hips, and the hard, burning heat beneath him as Luke moved against him. And Han gripped back, his legs entwined with Luke's and his hands sliding beneath Luke to bring him closer. They were about to end it, and even if he'd wanted to Han couldn't have slowed down, wrapped up as he was in Luke's relentless need.
In the last few seconds before he came, Han tore his lips from Luke's in order to fasten his gaze on Luke's face. Luke stared back at him for just a moment, before his eyes closed involuntarily and his fingers tightened on Han's hips, dragging their bodies so thoroughly together than Han could no longer distinguish where he ended and Luke began.
It was some time before Luke eased his hold on Han and Han's senses began to return to a semblance of normality. When Luke had come, he'd spoken Han's name and even in Han's dazed state he'd known that the moment had been there in Luke's mind indefinitely, just waiting to happen.
It gave Han the strange sensation that he'd stepped across a threshold without checking if solid ground lay beneath his feet. And after all the wrong turnings he'd taken in the last few years, he still didn't know if he'd get the chance to put them all right.
chapter 14
Author: Caryn B
Fandom: Star Wars (film canon only - see notes)
Timeline: 6 months after RotJ
Pairing: Luke/Han, slash
Rating: NC-17 overall; this chapter NC-17 (not very graphic)
Warnings: None
The list of chapters is here
Chapter 13
"Is this a bad time?"
Han shook his head, aware that his expression still wore a trace of his former disgruntlement. He moved back to let Luke in, trying to remain as laid-back as possible until he'd determined why Luke had come.
"I've finished for the day. Thought you were gonna be Lando."
"You didn't expect me at all, did you?"
"I know you've been busy."
"But that's not why you didn't think I'd come."
Han shrugged. "Thought you'd want some time to yourself seein' as I've messed you about."
"You haven't messed me about. I'm managing to do that well enough by myself."
"I haven't exactly helped."
Luke walked over to the window and glanced out. A loud shout from below filled the room, although the words were incomprehensible. A burst of laughter followed it, and Luke leaned forwards, looking down onto the concourse below.
"Someone's havin' fun," Han remarked.
Luke turned round. "I had to do another shift yesterday 'cause Wes injured his foot. It meant working most of the night. And I saw Leia the night before. We trained together. I wanted to see you afterwards, but it was so late-"
"I wouldn't have cared how late it was."
"It wasn't just the time. It wouldn't have seemed... right. Things have got so confused - it's hard to explain."
"You don't need to explain anything. It's obvious, ain't it? Did you say anything to Leia?"
"No. And that felt wrong too. But she's not the only reason I can't work things out."
"It's because you don't know what you wanna do with your life, and I've just made things worse."
"It's not that either, although it's true I don't know what I should be doing. It's more that... it didn't feel wrong between us."
Something like hope surged in Han's chest for a moment, before he damped it down. Where Luke was concerned nothing was simple, and if something had felt right to him he'd be looking for the deeper meaning beneath it, rather than accepting it for what it was.
"And that's a problem 'cause you think it should've done," he stated bluntly.
"Obviously there are things that seem wrong and I'm not trying to dismiss them. Leia-"
"And that's one of the ways I've messed you about. It wasn't fair to spring it on you straight away. Wasn't fair on Leia either."
"I don't think she sees it like that. You could've waited a whole year, but it wouldn't have changed the facts. Knowing what she does, she'd rather something more definite happened so she can start to move on. I can see her point, but it doesn't make it any easier."
"And that's what you're leading up to - isn't it? That it's time to make a decision so you can move on, one way or the other."
"I keep going over everything in my head," Luke admitted. "I wonder if I've been missing the whole point of Ben and Yoda's teachings, because I'm supposed to be able to trust my feelings. But they don't match the way I know I should feel."
"So maybe you oughta trust yourself more. If something seems right to you, why's it gotta be such a problem?"
"Because I keep thinking of Vader. What did he want so badly that he turned his back on the Jedi order and all its rules in order to get it? What was it the Emperor used to drag him down?"
"You don't know what he wanted and you don't know why he turned. You don't even know for sure it was the Emperor's doing."
Luke shook his head slowly. "No. If I did know for sure, things might be a lot easier."
Or they might be a lot worse, Han thought. "Well you know what I want and I ain't gonna pretend otherwise. But I won't try pushin' you into anything, so whatever you decide, I won't interfere."
Luke fell silent and turned back round to look out of the window again. Han paced the floor a couple of times, unsure where to take the conversation next. Playing for time, he moved over to his crate of possessions.
"I'm gonna get a drink. D'you want one? Or d'you have to rush off?"
"I don't have to rush off anywhere. I was hoping you'd have time to talk."
Han rooted around in the crate, searching for the bottle of redgrain spirit that Luke liked. He handed it, together with a passably clean beaker, to Luke.
Luke took it with a smile and watched while Han poured himself a large mug of brandy. He moved across to sit on Han's bed, leaning back against the wall and propping the spirit bottle up beside his legs.
They sat in silence for a while, each occupied with their own thoughts. Han spent several long moments just considering Luke, wondering how it was that someone who appeared to be so calm and peaceful on the surface could be a person of such extremes. Because Luke was that, even though the extremes weren't the glaringly obvious sort.
It was the little things. Like he didn't just like spicy food, he liked searingly hot, strip-the-skin-from-your-mouth spicy food. The sort that made your lips turn numb, and brought you out in a hot sweat. At least, it did Han. It was the same with the redgrain spirit. That was no mellow, mild liquor and despite its innocuous looks it deserved to come with a safety warning. But, naturally, Luke liked it. He didn't go for bland, and he didn't go for average. And when Luke trained, he didn't just push himself hard, he launched himself into the most exhausting, punishing regimes possible, determined to channel every last bit of energy into his routines.
In fact, Luke's whole life had been like that ever since Han had met him. And it was typical that he should come from a desert world baked by two suns, living every day under extremes of heat and glare. Anywhere more moderate just wouldn't have suited him. And he dived right into the craziest situations. Most people might've started their battles with the Empire on a smaller scale, but Luke, of course, began with the Death Star. It was like he just stood up, looked around, spotted the most dangerous circumstances, and walked on over.
"Mon Mothma's asked me to go to Polis Massa," Luke said suddenly, interrupting the silence and startling Han out of his contemplation of Luke.
"Where the hell's that?"
"Somewhere in the Outer Rim. There's not much there. It's just an asteroid, but it's got a settlement of sorts."
"Why does she want you to go there?"
"It's not just me. She wants me to go with Senator Danu. The place had strong links with the Old Republic during the Clone Wars. Especially with the Jedi."
Han shook his head, puzzled. "That doesn't answer my question."
"The Polis Massans contacted her a few months ago - not long after the Emperor died. They want to re-establish contact with the rest of the galaxy, and especially with the Jedi. I suppose they heard something..."
"The whole galaxy heard about you in just a few days. But why didn't she ask you before?"
Luke hesitated. "She said she'd thought it was too soon. She wanted to give me time to find my feet, and she didn't know if I wanted that kind of role. It's one thing going somewhere as a Rogue who just happens to be a Jedi, but going as some sort of Jedi Ambassador is a different thing altogether."
"Yeah," Han agreed, wondering at the vagueness that lay beneath Luke's explanation. "Where does Danu fit in? Is he the one who's just come out of exile? Have you spoken to him?"
"Yes. And that's the strange thing. When Mon Mothma mentioned the possibility of going, Danu looked like he knew something about the place. And I'm pretty certain he'd already talked to Mon Mothma about going somewhere with me, even though he made out it was all news to him. It all feels... odd."
"Odd how?"
"I don't know. I think Mon Mothma held off from mentioning it for some other reason. I got the idea she thinks there's something there for me. Something to do with those old links with the Jedi Order. She claims not to know anything though."
Han studied Luke for a few moments. "So you think this is gonna have some bearing on you deciding what you wanna do?"
"Yes," Luke admitted. He returned Han's gaze steadily. "But it's not Polis Massa I'm thinking of. I doubt there'll be any answers there. It's Danu himself. If I go with him, it'll give me a chance to discover everything he knows."
"Knows about what?"
"My mother."
Han was struck by the perception that something almost within his grasp had slipped a little further away, although he didn't know quite why he should feel so ill at ease. "Danu knows who your mother was?" he asked eventually.
Luke gave a small shrug. "He's not certain at all. He had no idea that Anakin Skywalker had become Vader. But he was close to the Jedi during the Clone Wars and he was part of the first Rebel Alliance group. Friends with Mon Mothma and Bail Organa. And he was friendly with another member of their group because she had sympathies with the Jedi like he did."
"Another senator?"
Luke nodded. "Danu says she had a deeper friendship with at least one of the Jedi. But she also had a lot of secrets. Danu told me she'd hidden her pregnancy away like it was something... sinful."
Han frowned. "Did she tell Danu she was involved with a Jedi?"
"No. She said nothing at all, either about the pregnancy or about seeing a Jedi. He only had his suspicions."
"But the father could've been anyone," Han argued. "And just 'cause she knew a Jedi didn't mean she was sleeping with him."
"I know. But it's not just Danu's instincts. It's Mon Mothma's too."
So Han listened in silence while Luke described in detail his first meeting with Mon Mothma, and then the one he'd just come from in Mon Mothma's apartment.
After Luke had finished, Han moved to the other side of the room, resting a shoulder against the wall by the window and trying to rid himself of the unease that had pretty much cancelled out the calming effects of the brandy.
"So when are you gonna go to this asteroid?"
"Tomorrow."
The dismay was instant, and Han knew it showed across his face. He didn't bother to hide it. "I s'ppose you don't know how long you'll stay?"
"It'll be at least three days once we arrive - and it'll take us about the same length of time to get there," Luke said. "Mon Mothma wants Danu to try and persuade the Polis Massans to share their medical research with the Alliance. And because of the past links with the Jedi she thinks my presence might swing the balance in our favor."
"You might be gone a helluva lot longer then."
"I've been on assignments before that've lasted a lot longer," Luke pointed out.
"But you've always wanted to come back."
Luke stared at him. "I want to come back from this one."
Han didn't say anything, so Luke put the bottle and beaker down on the floor, pushed off the bed and walked over to him. "These worries I have about what to do... they don't mean I want to get away from you. I want to be with you."
Han didn't reply and tried to cover up his obvious silence by sipping his brandy slowly, telling himself he was reading the wrong meanings into things yet again.
"D'you want me to leave you alone?" Luke asked, cutting into Han's thoughts.
"Nope. Why - d'you wanna go?"
Luke shook his head. "But staying isn't the right thing either is it? The last thing I want to do is to cause any more damage."
Han put his drink down on the ledge beneath the window and placed his hands on Luke's shoulders. "Listen - that night in Jira you made it clear you couldn't make any sorta commitment. Anything I chose to do after that was down to me, and it's my problem if I can't handle it, not yours. You've never pretended it was gonna be easy."
Luke ran a hand up Han's arm. "Have we ever done anything easily?" he asked with a half smile.
"Not that I can think of," Han grinned. "I might've led a trouble-free life if I hadn't met you though."
"Being hunted down by Jabba counted as trouble free?"
Han shrugged. "When you weigh it up against everything else - yeah."
"Oh, right," Luke laughed. "Well, at least you've never needed to complain about being bored." He moved up closer to Han. "Not that I'm implying you ever complain about anything else."
"Hey, I'm easy to please."
"Really?"
"Well, not that easy..." Han tailed off distractedly, caught up in the warmth of Luke's gaze and the nearness of him.
"Luke..." he started, not sure of what he wanted to say, but somehow it didn't seem to matter any more because Luke's arms had wound around him and pulled him up close.
"I've missed you," he ended up saying instead, sliding his fingers into Luke's hair and grazing his lips against Luke's cheek. "Stay with me tonight, huh?"
Luke's reply was to lift his head, his lips meeting Han's with just the faintest hint of a sigh. Han's fingers entwined themselves more tightly in Luke's hair as Luke's hands moved up behind Han's neck. Han could feel the heat of Luke's body radiating from him and he moved further into the comfort of it.
The need to be close to Luke was part of an all-encompassing craving that'd overridden Han's former doubts, and even if he had the capacity to question the wisdom of his actions he'd still choose to be with Luke this way. Han knew he was setting himself up for much greater hurt if Luke's reasoning led him towards the solitary life he considered might be essential, but in this moment he'd gone beyond logic.
There was just Luke, with the fiery taste of redgrain spirit on his lips and the clean scent of 'fresher gel on his skin. Luke, who'd admitted that he couldn't make these feelings between them seem wrong, despite all the obstacles in their way.
And neither could Han. Even the muted warnings in the back of his mind couldn't dim the rush of desire that flooded through him, just as it had that night in Jira. But now Han wanted more. He wanted the press of Luke's body against his, the brush of Luke's breath against his flesh, and the glide of skin beneath his palms.
He pulled back from Luke's encircling arms to fix his gaze on Luke, noting how Luke's eyes seemed to reflect all the turbulent thoughts that Han couldn't hide.
He felt he should say something, just to make it clear that he'd understood everything Luke had told him. "I'm not gonna demand anything. No ties. No strings attached..."
Luke shook his head but Han knew it wasn't a dismissal of his promise, just a wordless attempt by Luke to quieten his concerns. And then Luke reached out to take hold of one of Han's hands and moved back towards the bed, pulling Han with him.
It should've felt more familiar to Han - he'd made love to Luke in every stray thought that'd crept up on him since Jira. But instead it was all so new and different, and Han's fingers struggled with the fastenings of a tunic he'd seen Luke wear many times before. He was somewhere in between the impatience of lust, and the slow recognition of amazement that stemmed from the simple fact that Luke was here with him at all. After three days of telling himself to hope for nothing, aware of the dangers in wanting what might be out of reach, Han was intent on absorbing the reality of Luke's physical presence.
So now he observed the rise and fall of Luke's chest, and studied the way his hands, tracing the indentations of Luke's ribs, brought a soft shiver to the surface of Luke's skin. He leaned down to run his lips across a bared shoulder and over Luke's throat, lingering over the pulse that thrummed beneath his tongue.
He moved back up to kiss Luke again, holding off the urgency of need by focusing on that same sense of wonderment, searching Luke with his tongue until Luke shifted restively beneath him and groaned quietly into Han's mouth.
Han framed Luke's face with his hands, his words filled with a quiet dissent that he couldn't conceal. "Dunno how this can be wrong. Feels so good to be with you."
Luke lifted his fingers to Han's lips. "Don't," he murmured. "Just let things work out."
Han kissed Luke's fingers. "But it won't go away, will it?"
Luke said nothing, but pulled Han's head down instead, kissing him fiercely, the grip of his fingers tightening as he strained to mold their bodies together. The contact wasn't enough for either of them. Luke half pushed and half rolled Han over, sat up and struggled to free his arms from the now tangled tunic. He threw it onto the floor and turned his attention to Han's shirt.
Han watched Luke as he tugged at the buttons, the concentration on his face vying with frustration at his new-found lack of co-ordination. It was all still there in Luke - the impulsiveness and the fiery nature that those who knew him only slightly never guessed at. It all came together in a single moment when Luke lost patience with the shirt and pulled it unceremoniously over Han's head.
Sparing just a second for a fleeting smile of recognition for his own impetuous behavior, Luke reached out to touch Han.
To feel Luke's hands on his body produced something close to shock deep inside, as though it'd finally dawned on Han just how closely Luke's yearning for him mirrored Han's for Luke. It threatened to allow that hunger he was just containing to take over, but the side of him that needed to burn every second of their encounter into his brain kept him balanced. He was halfway ready to lose control, but still reluctant to relinquish it.
As Luke's fingertips trailed across his chest and down his abdomen, he felt the tremor behind them and knew that Luke's battle for that same balance was even greater.
Han hauled Luke close and slid his palms down Luke's back. Warmth and smoothness and shudders that anticipated his touch, before his fingers encountered the roughness of partially-healed grazes.
Surprised, Han pulled back, meeting Luke's puzzled gaze.
"That's from the other night?"
Luke's confused frown deepened. "What?"
Han took hold of Luke's shoulders and twisted him around to study his back. Three days on, and the cuts on Luke's lower back remained only as irregular, raised patches, but the bruises hadn't yet begun to fade. Han ran his fingers carefully over the evidence of his own lack of care that night.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize..."
Luke shook his head, amusement in his voice. "It wasn't you, it was the wall."
"Yeah, 'n I was the one who shoved you against it."
"Han," Luke swiveled back round to face him, "d'you think I care about a few bruises? And anyway, that wasn't how it was."
"'S how I remember it."
"That's because you're doing that apologizing thing again. But there were two of us involved that night - it's as much my fault as yours."
Han wanted to protest further, but Luke placed a hand over Han's mouth. "I don't wanna hear it," he insisted, with a smile that made Han's breath catch in his throat. Luke took his hand away. "Why don't you come back here instead?"
Impossible not to, and Han caught Luke's mouth with his own, lowering him back down onto the bed and bringing their bodies tightly together. Han could feel Luke's need for him in the hunger of his kiss and the subtle vibration of a moan in his throat. It was there in the tension of his body, and the instinctive rise of his hips. And it was there in the sharp gasp that escaped from Luke's lips as Han moved against him with a sudden, swift vehemence.
And Han could almost sense the conflict within Luke too. There was the impulsion of desire that left unchecked would most likely have run wild and left Han reeling. And set against it was the strength of Luke's will-power, because Han knew that somehow Luke understood what it was that Han wanted. Guessed that Han felt compelled to memorize each moment in order to hold the knowledge of Luke's body inside himself when Luke had gone.
Han wanted to alleviate all his disquiet and all his insecurities by holding Luke, to avert his fear of losing Luke with the touch of his hands on Luke's skin. But with his legs entangled with Luke's and every nerve in his body fired up from only the simplest contact, it was becoming more and more difficult to center himself.
He forced himself to move away again, just a little, but enough to draw a soft groan of objection from Luke. But the protest changed to something close to a demand when Han slid his fingertips just below the waistband of Luke's pants, the gesture both a promise and an attempt to soothe the simmering anticipation he could see in Luke's eyes.
His fingers found the clasp of Luke's belt. Slowly he pulled it from the belt loops and tossed it to the floor on top of his shirt. Reached for Luke's comlink and removed it from around Luke's wrist. He studied the communicator for just a few seconds, then switched it off and threw it aside.
Luke watched him through half-closed eyes, his breathing uneven and raggedly audible. When Han reached for Luke's boots and pulled them off to join the growing pile of items on the floor, he suspected that something in Luke was about to give. The thought crawled through Han's insides, arousal clogging his airways and burning in his blood. He was painfully, achingly hard, and each murmur that broke from Luke's lips inflamed him further.
Han saw how Luke's fingers clutched at the sheet beneath when he ran the palm of a hand over the hard jut of Luke's erection, aware of the fierce heat through the remaining layers of cloth. Heard the hiss of an in-drawn breath and noticed Luke's knuckles turn white as he stripped away the last of Luke's clothes and flung the remainder of his own garments down with them.
It felt like belonging. Felt like something he'd been searching for all his life when he wrapped his arms around Luke. Everything else - the problems, the guilt, the uncertainty for the future - had faded to nothing. With his tongue in Luke's mouth he felt, more than heard, all the low throaty sounds that Luke made. And with his hands on Luke's body again, possessive and greedy, he discovered what it was like to lose himself totally to another person.
Luke's resolve was wavering on the edge of breaking, and Han could see in him all the restless, wanton energy just waiting beneath the surface. As he trailed the tips of two fingers along the inside of Luke's lower lip, the slow shiver that passed through Luke traveled simultaneously across Han's whole body, and he knew that raw instinct was about to take over.
It took just a moment more to happen. He sought Luke's mouth again with his own, and pushed a thigh between Luke's knees in a mute demand for something more intimate. He felt the rapid tensing of Luke's muscles as he moved a hand down Luke's body. Just the merest brush of his fingers was enough to make Luke's control snap, his harsh exclamation going no further than Han's mouth and his body twisting upwards, searching for contact with Han.
There was no time to find a joint rhythm. There was just an all-consuming urge to push himself and Luke to the edge of falling. It obliterated every thought of Han's, leaving him aware of little but the feel of Luke's fingers gripping his hips, and the hard, burning heat beneath him as Luke moved against him. And Han gripped back, his legs entwined with Luke's and his hands sliding beneath Luke to bring him closer. They were about to end it, and even if he'd wanted to Han couldn't have slowed down, wrapped up as he was in Luke's relentless need.
In the last few seconds before he came, Han tore his lips from Luke's in order to fasten his gaze on Luke's face. Luke stared back at him for just a moment, before his eyes closed involuntarily and his fingers tightened on Han's hips, dragging their bodies so thoroughly together than Han could no longer distinguish where he ended and Luke began.
It was some time before Luke eased his hold on Han and Han's senses began to return to a semblance of normality. When Luke had come, he'd spoken Han's name and even in Han's dazed state he'd known that the moment had been there in Luke's mind indefinitely, just waiting to happen.
It gave Han the strange sensation that he'd stepped across a threshold without checking if solid ground lay beneath his feet. And after all the wrong turnings he'd taken in the last few years, he still didn't know if he'd get the chance to put them all right.
chapter 14