Fic: Appreciation (Star Wars - Luke/Han, #9: Morning)
Title: Appreciation
Fandom & Claim: Star Wars (Han/Luke). Written for 20_1sttimes
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Table 2, #9: morning ( Prompts Table)
Summary: Ficlet (a silly one). Luke discovers the hidden implications in making Han a mug of caf.
Appreciation
Caryn B
"Breakfast's over there." Han was engaged in routine checks on the Falcon's life support systems. He didn't look up but jabbed a finger towards the far side of the secondary hold.
Luke glanced at the workbench fixed against the bulkhead. On it sat a mass of tangled wires and the broken plasteel casing of Han's new food synthesizer. "Good morning to you too," he replied.
Han swiveled his seat around. "No morning's a good morning if I can't get a proper mug of caf," he growled.
"So why not use your water boiler?"
"Chewie cleaned it out." Han didn't add anything further, but the expression on his face was sufficient explanation as to the fate of the boiler.
"There's always the mess room."
"I said proper caf. I wouldn't give the bantha pee they serve there to my worst enemy."
Luke walked over to the mangled food synthesizer and studied it. The original damage looked superficial but Han's subsequent meddling had caused additional problems. Nevertheless, Luke thought it was repairable, given a bit of time and a lack of interference from Han.
He dragged a crate over to use as a seat and examined the circuit board. It seemed to be intact apart from one tiny microcontroller that overheating had scorched almost beyond recognition. Luke suspected it operated the machine's vocals and if past experience was anything to go by, it was probably those that had instigated Han's flare of temper. Doing without them was safer for the food synth.
Luke weighed up the alternatives. He could spend an hour fixing the synthesizer, after which Han could get his caf intake and the day might run more smoothly. Or they could set off now and try to find a bar in Corallmir that served something Han would drink without an excessive number of complaints. On reflection, the repair seemed the lesser of the two evils. Getting themselves thrown out of a caf bar wouldn't be the best start to their official visit.
He checked the charge on Han's electro-fuser and immersed himself in unraveling the multi-colored wires that led from the food synth's power supply.
"I thought we were s'pposed to be goin' to Corallmir."
Luke turned his head to look at Han. "We've got plenty of time. Anyway, I'm not going anywhere with you in the mood you're in."
"I'm in a good mood!" Han snapped. "Don't take it out on me 'cause I can't make you any caf."
"I've already had some," Luke pointed out. "So I'm not that bothered."
"Huh? You told me your caf maker blew up the other day."
"It did. I went to the Green Gornt Tavern with Wes before coming here."
"Terrific," Han muttered. "I'm sat here waiting for you and you're off on a dawn assignation with Rogue Squadron's pin-up of the year."
"Is that how you see him?" Luke asked, covering over his puzzlement at Han's comment.
"I don't. But it ain't me sneakin' off to the Green Gornt with him."
"I wouldn't call walking openly into a bar 'sneaking off'."
"Having a caf with someone can have all sorts of meanings, not all of 'em obvious."
"Yeah, I guess it can," Luke agreed, determined not to rise to Han's goading. He turned back to the task of dealing with the food synth. He could feel Han's eyes boring into his back, as if Han couldn't quite believe Luke wasn't going to explain himself.
A few minutes later a shadow fell across the bench. "If you're gonna try mending the thing you've gotta get this lot sorted first," Han said, grabbing a length of wiring from the bench.
"It doesn't matter which end I start at."
"But you're workin' backwards."
"Depends which end you call the back." Luke knew that if he'd started from the other end Han would've called that the back instead.
"Yeah, well this is the front." Han yanked his end of the wiring up high, knocking the electro-fuser to the deck where it rolled to the other side of the hold and disappeared beneath the life support station.
"It'd be best if you let me get on with it by myself," Luke suggested. The tone of patient rationality he'd tried for didn't quite work, but he doubted it would've met with a better response anyway.
"Hey, is it my ship, or am I just imagining things!" Han flung down the twist of cabling in disgust and pushed away from the bench.
Luke hid his grin by keeping his head lowered and pretending a rapt concentration on the synthesizer. "Of course it's your ship," he said. "Your ship, your food synth and your repair. Oh, and your fist that broke the thing in the first place."
Han marched back over. "What kind of machine can't take a bit of accidental damage anyway?"
"So you just 'accidentally' came to blows with it?"
"I said the damage was accidental. Anyway, what do they expect people to do? Wrap the damn thing in loper fur and sing it a lullaby every night?"
"Maybe just not punch it?" Luke looked up, this time failing to hide his amusement at Han's deepening scowl.
"I ain't that crazy. I didn't use my fist."
"Oh?"
"It was my foot."
"Right... That makes all the difference then." Luke thought for a moment. "Your foot? How did you manage that? It can't have been easy to reach!"
Han's expression changed from a glower into something approaching a smirk. "Yeah, well I'm pretty flexible."
"Obviously."
Han gave him a slow, deliberate grin. "You'd be amazed at the positions I can get myself into."
"I'm sure I would." There was a time when that kind of remark from Han would've brought an unwelcome flush to Luke's cheeks, but lately he'd become much more inured to Han's attempts to discomfit him. But even though he no longer got the reactions he presumably wanted, Han hadn't given up trying.
This time, he left Luke in peace to work on the repair, and all Luke heard was the occasional curse from the direction of the access shaft to the outboard power adapters. Checking the relays in the confined space was a job that rarely improved Han's mood, making it even more imperative that Luke fixed the food synth.
It took less time than expected, and in well under an hour he'd fused the severed cabling back to the control panel and re-inserted the entire mechanism into its plasteel casing. A few strips of duct tape covered the cracks and it was - almost - as good as new.
Han emerged from the access shaft, presumably lured by the smell of fresh caf. He stared for a moment at the mug set on the workbench, from which little curls of steam spiraled up towards the Falcon's overhead. Then he stalked across to Luke, placed both hands on either side of Luke's face and planted a firm kiss on Luke's lips. "Beau-ti-ful," he drawled.
He moved away before Luke had a chance to speak, grabbing the scalding hot mug with seemingly heat-proof hands, and inhaled the fragrant brew. "Now it's a good morning," he declared. Eventually he seemed to notice Luke's quizzical gaze. "What?"
"Oh, nothing. I guess you're just pleased to get your food synth back."
"Sure I am." Han squinted at him through the steam. "Why're you giving me a funny look?"
"I'm not."
Han set the mug down on the workbench and rubbed at a reddened palm. "I know a funny look when I see one. Are you mad at me 'cause you had to repair it? Y'know - I would've done it myself but you're better at fixing these stupid machines."
Luke shook his head. "You surprised me, that's all. You've never kissed me before."
Han folded his arms and leaned back against the bench. "I've never kissed you at all."
"You just did."
"Nah - that wasn't a kiss."
"What was it then? A traditional Corellian 'thank you'? Maybe you kiss everyone who repairs anything on the Falcon."
Han grinned and moved closer to Luke. "Hmm, gotta think about that one. Chewie's done a lot of repairs but I've never kissed him. Then there's your pet droids. Nope - never kissed 'em either. And I didn't kiss that tech guy who fixed the ramp control the other day. Or Wedge, and he changed one of the cargo hold glow rods a few weeks ago, even though I never asked him to-"
"Never mind!" Luke interrupted. "Let's just drop it."
"Why? You got a problem with it?"
"No... I-"
"Good, 'cause I was gonna demonstrate what I meant."
"Demonstrate how?"
"There's only one way," Han replied. He framed Luke's face with his hands again. "See, this ain't a kiss." He pressed his lips briefly to Luke's just as he had before. "It's just a peck. Get it?"
"If you say so..."
Han stayed where he was, his hands holding Luke's face. "This is bit closer to a kiss." He placed his lips against Luke's again, this time a little more purposefully and for a little while longer.
"Han, I do know what kissing is," Luke said. It occurred to him that it might be advisable to free himself from Han's grasp before Han started wondering why he was still standing there.
"Yeah, but I'm giving you my definition. Just so there's no confusion."
Luke concluded that it was a bit late for that. He also realized he hadn't made any attempt to move. He tried to think of something to say but Han chose that moment to stroke one of his thumbs against Luke's jaw. It was only a fleeting, feather-light touch but it stopped Luke's words in his throat.
"I guess these might qualify," Han said. This time he didn't kiss Luke directly on the lips, but moved his mouth to just below, grazing a trail of light kisses along Luke's jaw. Then he moved his lips upwards, kissing around the corners of Luke's mouth and along his bottom lip. Just before pulling away Han brushed the tip of his tongue against Luke's upper lip.
"What... what are you doing?" Luke got the question out with difficulty.
"Demonstrating. Now this is a kiss." Before Luke could react, Han slid a hand around the back of Luke's head and fastened his lips to Luke's.
There was no doubt about it being a kiss this time. It was slow, lingering and insistent, and it drained Luke of the ability to do anything but kiss Han back. Han pushed his tongue into Luke's mouth, exploring it with a languid, tormenting thoroughness, and he coiled Luke's hair around his fingers, and Luke lost all sense of time and place.
When they eventually broke apart Luke just stood there and looked at Han, certain that if he tried to walk he'd fall flat on his face.
"You see the difference?" Han asked him. His voice sounded odd. Rough and scratchy, like he hadn't spoken in days.
It was probably one of the most idiotic questions Han had ever asked him. Luke tried to answer. "Uh... yes... I..."
Han peered at him. "You don't seem so sure."
"No... Yes. I'm sure. But-"
"But what? You wish I hadn't done it?"
"Han..."
"You'd rather be kissing Wes?"
"Will you stop throwing questions at me!" The spike of exasperation returned the power of coherent speech to Luke's brain. "No, I wouldn't rather be kissing Wes!"
"You didn't answer the first question."
Luke rubbed a hand across his face in sheer frustration. "I can't remember what that was."
"D'you wish I hadn't done it?" Han repeated.
"What do you think?"
Han shrugged. "I don't wanna get it wrong."
"How obvious does it have to be?"
"When someone says 'but' it usually means there's a problem."
Luke leveled a glare at him. "You didn't give me a chance to finish what I was saying."
"Okay. Go on then."
Luke hesitated, struck by the absurdity of the situation. Han had started this, after never before showing any interest in kissing him, but it felt like he'd backed Luke into a corner and demanded Luke explain himself.
"But..." prompted Han, clearly unable to wait any longer for Luke to assemble his thoughts.
Luke took a calming breath and finished the sentence he'd been about to say before Han interrupted him. "...I hope that's not the end of your demonstration. Because if you're going to leave me standing here all wound up and-"
Han cut off his words again, but this time it wasn't a verbal interruption. Luke found himself shoved back against the workbench with Han's lips glued to his and Han's tongue deep inside his mouth. And there was nothing languorous about this kiss. It was hard and hungry and devouring, and full of the implication that this wasn't a spur of the moment act for Han.
Luke felt like something had exploded inside him and let loose an unstoppable tide of lust. Every inch of his body ached with want and need and when Han pressed up against him Luke knew there was no disguising it. It made Han groan and he gripped Luke's hips, pushing him harder into the workbench until Luke lost his balance. He flung a hand out behind him, looking for support.
The crash startled them both and they sprang apart, staring at the deck. The newly-repaired food synthesizer lay there, the fragments of its plasteel casing held together by the duct tape Luke had wrapped around it earlier on. A length of cabling snaked out towards them.
"Oops," Han said. He kept his eyes on the wreckage, maybe thinking that if he glared at it long enough he might shame the machine into repairing itself.
"Is that all you can say?" Luke asked.
Han looked at him. "It ain't my fault. You knocked it off. Next time-"
"Next time?" Luke cut in, his tone incredulous. "You think I'm gonna fix it again?"
"I can very appreciative. I know lots of ways to say thank you."
"You haven't finished saying thank you for the first repair."
"I'm workin' on it," Han assured him. He slipped open the top fastenings of Luke's tunic.
"Tell me something," Luke said. He took hold of Han's shirt, just above Han's belt and tugged at it until it was untucked all the way round.
"Ask away."
"These demonstrations of yours... Are they all about kissing?"
"No, but I'm only half way through the kissing one." Han bent his head and ran his lips along Luke's exposed collarbone. "Gotta lot more to show you."
"Like what?" Luke reflected that there was a very blurry line between him taking Han's shirt off carefully and methodically, and ripping it off, fasteners and all.
"Like how I'm gonna go about kissing places other than here," Han explained, placing another kiss against Luke's lips. "Like every part of you," he added. "Okay?"
Luke closed his eyes and let the shiver ride through him. He considered trying to nod, but he wasn't sure how much control he had over any of his body parts. His hands had a will of their own though, finding their way with ease to Han's belt buckle.
"After that I've got a whole bunch of demonstrations," Han murmured. "Whatever you like. Anything and everything." He dragged the tunic over Luke's head and tossed it to the deck. Grazed a fingertip down the middle of Luke's chest. "That's if you want me to show you."
"I think you'll have to," Luke managed. "Just so there's no confusion."
One last thing crossed Luke's mind, before he forgot about everything other than the direction Han's hands were taking. That Han never did get to drink his caf.
Fandom & Claim: Star Wars (Han/Luke). Written for 20_1sttimes
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Table 2, #9: morning ( Prompts Table)
Summary: Ficlet (a silly one). Luke discovers the hidden implications in making Han a mug of caf.
Appreciation
Caryn B
"Breakfast's over there." Han was engaged in routine checks on the Falcon's life support systems. He didn't look up but jabbed a finger towards the far side of the secondary hold.
Luke glanced at the workbench fixed against the bulkhead. On it sat a mass of tangled wires and the broken plasteel casing of Han's new food synthesizer. "Good morning to you too," he replied.
Han swiveled his seat around. "No morning's a good morning if I can't get a proper mug of caf," he growled.
"So why not use your water boiler?"
"Chewie cleaned it out." Han didn't add anything further, but the expression on his face was sufficient explanation as to the fate of the boiler.
"There's always the mess room."
"I said proper caf. I wouldn't give the bantha pee they serve there to my worst enemy."
Luke walked over to the mangled food synthesizer and studied it. The original damage looked superficial but Han's subsequent meddling had caused additional problems. Nevertheless, Luke thought it was repairable, given a bit of time and a lack of interference from Han.
He dragged a crate over to use as a seat and examined the circuit board. It seemed to be intact apart from one tiny microcontroller that overheating had scorched almost beyond recognition. Luke suspected it operated the machine's vocals and if past experience was anything to go by, it was probably those that had instigated Han's flare of temper. Doing without them was safer for the food synth.
Luke weighed up the alternatives. He could spend an hour fixing the synthesizer, after which Han could get his caf intake and the day might run more smoothly. Or they could set off now and try to find a bar in Corallmir that served something Han would drink without an excessive number of complaints. On reflection, the repair seemed the lesser of the two evils. Getting themselves thrown out of a caf bar wouldn't be the best start to their official visit.
He checked the charge on Han's electro-fuser and immersed himself in unraveling the multi-colored wires that led from the food synth's power supply.
"I thought we were s'pposed to be goin' to Corallmir."
Luke turned his head to look at Han. "We've got plenty of time. Anyway, I'm not going anywhere with you in the mood you're in."
"I'm in a good mood!" Han snapped. "Don't take it out on me 'cause I can't make you any caf."
"I've already had some," Luke pointed out. "So I'm not that bothered."
"Huh? You told me your caf maker blew up the other day."
"It did. I went to the Green Gornt Tavern with Wes before coming here."
"Terrific," Han muttered. "I'm sat here waiting for you and you're off on a dawn assignation with Rogue Squadron's pin-up of the year."
"Is that how you see him?" Luke asked, covering over his puzzlement at Han's comment.
"I don't. But it ain't me sneakin' off to the Green Gornt with him."
"I wouldn't call walking openly into a bar 'sneaking off'."
"Having a caf with someone can have all sorts of meanings, not all of 'em obvious."
"Yeah, I guess it can," Luke agreed, determined not to rise to Han's goading. He turned back to the task of dealing with the food synth. He could feel Han's eyes boring into his back, as if Han couldn't quite believe Luke wasn't going to explain himself.
A few minutes later a shadow fell across the bench. "If you're gonna try mending the thing you've gotta get this lot sorted first," Han said, grabbing a length of wiring from the bench.
"It doesn't matter which end I start at."
"But you're workin' backwards."
"Depends which end you call the back." Luke knew that if he'd started from the other end Han would've called that the back instead.
"Yeah, well this is the front." Han yanked his end of the wiring up high, knocking the electro-fuser to the deck where it rolled to the other side of the hold and disappeared beneath the life support station.
"It'd be best if you let me get on with it by myself," Luke suggested. The tone of patient rationality he'd tried for didn't quite work, but he doubted it would've met with a better response anyway.
"Hey, is it my ship, or am I just imagining things!" Han flung down the twist of cabling in disgust and pushed away from the bench.
Luke hid his grin by keeping his head lowered and pretending a rapt concentration on the synthesizer. "Of course it's your ship," he said. "Your ship, your food synth and your repair. Oh, and your fist that broke the thing in the first place."
Han marched back over. "What kind of machine can't take a bit of accidental damage anyway?"
"So you just 'accidentally' came to blows with it?"
"I said the damage was accidental. Anyway, what do they expect people to do? Wrap the damn thing in loper fur and sing it a lullaby every night?"
"Maybe just not punch it?" Luke looked up, this time failing to hide his amusement at Han's deepening scowl.
"I ain't that crazy. I didn't use my fist."
"Oh?"
"It was my foot."
"Right... That makes all the difference then." Luke thought for a moment. "Your foot? How did you manage that? It can't have been easy to reach!"
Han's expression changed from a glower into something approaching a smirk. "Yeah, well I'm pretty flexible."
"Obviously."
Han gave him a slow, deliberate grin. "You'd be amazed at the positions I can get myself into."
"I'm sure I would." There was a time when that kind of remark from Han would've brought an unwelcome flush to Luke's cheeks, but lately he'd become much more inured to Han's attempts to discomfit him. But even though he no longer got the reactions he presumably wanted, Han hadn't given up trying.
This time, he left Luke in peace to work on the repair, and all Luke heard was the occasional curse from the direction of the access shaft to the outboard power adapters. Checking the relays in the confined space was a job that rarely improved Han's mood, making it even more imperative that Luke fixed the food synth.
It took less time than expected, and in well under an hour he'd fused the severed cabling back to the control panel and re-inserted the entire mechanism into its plasteel casing. A few strips of duct tape covered the cracks and it was - almost - as good as new.
Han emerged from the access shaft, presumably lured by the smell of fresh caf. He stared for a moment at the mug set on the workbench, from which little curls of steam spiraled up towards the Falcon's overhead. Then he stalked across to Luke, placed both hands on either side of Luke's face and planted a firm kiss on Luke's lips. "Beau-ti-ful," he drawled.
He moved away before Luke had a chance to speak, grabbing the scalding hot mug with seemingly heat-proof hands, and inhaled the fragrant brew. "Now it's a good morning," he declared. Eventually he seemed to notice Luke's quizzical gaze. "What?"
"Oh, nothing. I guess you're just pleased to get your food synth back."
"Sure I am." Han squinted at him through the steam. "Why're you giving me a funny look?"
"I'm not."
Han set the mug down on the workbench and rubbed at a reddened palm. "I know a funny look when I see one. Are you mad at me 'cause you had to repair it? Y'know - I would've done it myself but you're better at fixing these stupid machines."
Luke shook his head. "You surprised me, that's all. You've never kissed me before."
Han folded his arms and leaned back against the bench. "I've never kissed you at all."
"You just did."
"Nah - that wasn't a kiss."
"What was it then? A traditional Corellian 'thank you'? Maybe you kiss everyone who repairs anything on the Falcon."
Han grinned and moved closer to Luke. "Hmm, gotta think about that one. Chewie's done a lot of repairs but I've never kissed him. Then there's your pet droids. Nope - never kissed 'em either. And I didn't kiss that tech guy who fixed the ramp control the other day. Or Wedge, and he changed one of the cargo hold glow rods a few weeks ago, even though I never asked him to-"
"Never mind!" Luke interrupted. "Let's just drop it."
"Why? You got a problem with it?"
"No... I-"
"Good, 'cause I was gonna demonstrate what I meant."
"Demonstrate how?"
"There's only one way," Han replied. He framed Luke's face with his hands again. "See, this ain't a kiss." He pressed his lips briefly to Luke's just as he had before. "It's just a peck. Get it?"
"If you say so..."
Han stayed where he was, his hands holding Luke's face. "This is bit closer to a kiss." He placed his lips against Luke's again, this time a little more purposefully and for a little while longer.
"Han, I do know what kissing is," Luke said. It occurred to him that it might be advisable to free himself from Han's grasp before Han started wondering why he was still standing there.
"Yeah, but I'm giving you my definition. Just so there's no confusion."
Luke concluded that it was a bit late for that. He also realized he hadn't made any attempt to move. He tried to think of something to say but Han chose that moment to stroke one of his thumbs against Luke's jaw. It was only a fleeting, feather-light touch but it stopped Luke's words in his throat.
"I guess these might qualify," Han said. This time he didn't kiss Luke directly on the lips, but moved his mouth to just below, grazing a trail of light kisses along Luke's jaw. Then he moved his lips upwards, kissing around the corners of Luke's mouth and along his bottom lip. Just before pulling away Han brushed the tip of his tongue against Luke's upper lip.
"What... what are you doing?" Luke got the question out with difficulty.
"Demonstrating. Now this is a kiss." Before Luke could react, Han slid a hand around the back of Luke's head and fastened his lips to Luke's.
There was no doubt about it being a kiss this time. It was slow, lingering and insistent, and it drained Luke of the ability to do anything but kiss Han back. Han pushed his tongue into Luke's mouth, exploring it with a languid, tormenting thoroughness, and he coiled Luke's hair around his fingers, and Luke lost all sense of time and place.
When they eventually broke apart Luke just stood there and looked at Han, certain that if he tried to walk he'd fall flat on his face.
"You see the difference?" Han asked him. His voice sounded odd. Rough and scratchy, like he hadn't spoken in days.
It was probably one of the most idiotic questions Han had ever asked him. Luke tried to answer. "Uh... yes... I..."
Han peered at him. "You don't seem so sure."
"No... Yes. I'm sure. But-"
"But what? You wish I hadn't done it?"
"Han..."
"You'd rather be kissing Wes?"
"Will you stop throwing questions at me!" The spike of exasperation returned the power of coherent speech to Luke's brain. "No, I wouldn't rather be kissing Wes!"
"You didn't answer the first question."
Luke rubbed a hand across his face in sheer frustration. "I can't remember what that was."
"D'you wish I hadn't done it?" Han repeated.
"What do you think?"
Han shrugged. "I don't wanna get it wrong."
"How obvious does it have to be?"
"When someone says 'but' it usually means there's a problem."
Luke leveled a glare at him. "You didn't give me a chance to finish what I was saying."
"Okay. Go on then."
Luke hesitated, struck by the absurdity of the situation. Han had started this, after never before showing any interest in kissing him, but it felt like he'd backed Luke into a corner and demanded Luke explain himself.
"But..." prompted Han, clearly unable to wait any longer for Luke to assemble his thoughts.
Luke took a calming breath and finished the sentence he'd been about to say before Han interrupted him. "...I hope that's not the end of your demonstration. Because if you're going to leave me standing here all wound up and-"
Han cut off his words again, but this time it wasn't a verbal interruption. Luke found himself shoved back against the workbench with Han's lips glued to his and Han's tongue deep inside his mouth. And there was nothing languorous about this kiss. It was hard and hungry and devouring, and full of the implication that this wasn't a spur of the moment act for Han.
Luke felt like something had exploded inside him and let loose an unstoppable tide of lust. Every inch of his body ached with want and need and when Han pressed up against him Luke knew there was no disguising it. It made Han groan and he gripped Luke's hips, pushing him harder into the workbench until Luke lost his balance. He flung a hand out behind him, looking for support.
The crash startled them both and they sprang apart, staring at the deck. The newly-repaired food synthesizer lay there, the fragments of its plasteel casing held together by the duct tape Luke had wrapped around it earlier on. A length of cabling snaked out towards them.
"Oops," Han said. He kept his eyes on the wreckage, maybe thinking that if he glared at it long enough he might shame the machine into repairing itself.
"Is that all you can say?" Luke asked.
Han looked at him. "It ain't my fault. You knocked it off. Next time-"
"Next time?" Luke cut in, his tone incredulous. "You think I'm gonna fix it again?"
"I can very appreciative. I know lots of ways to say thank you."
"You haven't finished saying thank you for the first repair."
"I'm workin' on it," Han assured him. He slipped open the top fastenings of Luke's tunic.
"Tell me something," Luke said. He took hold of Han's shirt, just above Han's belt and tugged at it until it was untucked all the way round.
"Ask away."
"These demonstrations of yours... Are they all about kissing?"
"No, but I'm only half way through the kissing one." Han bent his head and ran his lips along Luke's exposed collarbone. "Gotta lot more to show you."
"Like what?" Luke reflected that there was a very blurry line between him taking Han's shirt off carefully and methodically, and ripping it off, fasteners and all.
"Like how I'm gonna go about kissing places other than here," Han explained, placing another kiss against Luke's lips. "Like every part of you," he added. "Okay?"
Luke closed his eyes and let the shiver ride through him. He considered trying to nod, but he wasn't sure how much control he had over any of his body parts. His hands had a will of their own though, finding their way with ease to Han's belt buckle.
"After that I've got a whole bunch of demonstrations," Han murmured. "Whatever you like. Anything and everything." He dragged the tunic over Luke's head and tossed it to the deck. Grazed a fingertip down the middle of Luke's chest. "That's if you want me to show you."
"I think you'll have to," Luke managed. "Just so there's no confusion."
One last thing crossed Luke's mind, before he forgot about everything other than the direction Han's hands were taking. That Han never did get to drink his caf.