#mostly han

[rbeljedi]

most days luke jumps out of bed like a disney princess, fully awake before dawn and probably with birds chirping and bed sheets neatly made.

less often but certainly more hilarious are the days he staggers half conscious in search of caf, slapping at every cabinet he passes because he can’t seem to grab the right one. 

in true brotherly/sisterly fashion, these are the best moments for Han and Leia to mess with him.

[sheis-theslayer]

First Stupid Kisses

It's only when they're walking away from a grinning Commander Holdo that Han even bothers to speak.

"You seemed friendly."

It's innocuous on the surface, even-keeled, which only tips off Leia to the potential torrent lurking underneath her husband's chest.

"Amilyn and I were senatorial pages together," she says, snaking her fingers through his. "We came up through the ranks together a time or two."

A gentle hum escapes Han. He's agitated, but without reason, so he keeps his mouth shut. Leia smiles. He's learned so much over the years.

"Oh. I suppose she was my first kiss, too."

Their pace stops dead and suddenly Han whips toward her, finger of his free hand jabbed in her direction. His other one stays firmly clamped onto hers.

"I knew it! I knew there was..." his hand flaps around with gusto. "Stuff."

Leia's eyes roll back into her braids. "Please, act like a grown man for once in your life."

"I am!" He mastered the art of the aghast pout long ago, and she hates how well it still works. "You could've told me before we went up, shaking hands, like some sort of dope."

"Oh, yes, that would've gone very nicely. You're demonstrating your tact so well."

She sets off again, and Han's ready to skulk -- but not to let go of her. She drags him down the glittering promenade of this fancy little moon's capital city, his stomps echoing off the gemmed pavement.

"You could've told me about her. First kiss? C'mon. That's something you tell people."

He glowers in silence for a moment. Leia can feel it radiating off of him even as she keeps looking firmly ahead.

"People like me, at least. You know. Your husband."

It's Leia's turn to put on the brakes. She wants to laugh, goodness, she wants to crow to the sky, but that's not their dance. Sometimes it feels good to exchange stupid barbs, like they're still holed up underground in some godforsaken Rebel base, flirting the time away with nonsense banter.

She turns toward him, lips drawn into a tight line. His face transforms, setting in stone, all these angles she knows so well, ready to go toe to toe.

She narrows her eyes. He juts his chin.

And then she smiles.

"You know, you're right, Han. First kisses, why -- everyone should tell their spouse that."

The premature triumph on his face flickers just long enough for her relish the next words like the best dessert Alderaan ever served her.

"Which is why I still don't know why I had to find out about yours from the source, of all people. At least you didn't have to look the most charming smuggler in the galaxy in the eye while he described the six shades of red you turned when he threw you up against same control panels we've spent plenty of time on --"

The masterpiece of expressions wracking Han's body is a delight. He's shushing her and cursing and shoving her forward, and suddenly six shades doesn't seem like so many, based on the colors his ears are turning as he barrels them through the embassy's gates.

When they're out of sight of the crowd, Han finally lets her go, still fumbling over his words as he tries to respond. His quick wit has been wounded by dizzying, barely-faded teenage pride. It's the sort of silence Leia loves the most.

"Listen," Han starts, building up his composure with another finger wag. She grabs his hand, firmly and gently, giving a quick eyebrow quirk of warning. He huffs. "Listen. That's not true."

Another eye roll. "Han, I don't care. Just like you shouldn't about Amilyn. Lando asks out both of us every time we see him, you don't see me getting bent out of shape."

"That's not it!" He says. She's pretty sure it is.

"Okay, I'll bite. What is it?"

He runs a rough hand through his hair, scowling. He looks over each shoulder. Some kind of dope, she thinks.

"That's not true, and he knows it. He was too much of a bantha-shit to do anything, so I kissed him first. You got that?"

Leia wishes her peals of delighted giggles didn't make him look so uncertain, so she drags him away to their quarters to assure him that she did, indeed, now understand.