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Luke is circling him, taking him in and analyzing him. They're the only two people in the room, and the Sith was sure to lock the door, ensuring his privacy. The black robes cling to his body well, his lightsaber still tucked in its space on Luke’s belt. He poses no current threat to the other man. He's only looking after all. He stares at his once steady lover, internally conflicted, his eyebrows sinking and causing him to glare.
Han should be afraid. He knows he should be afraid. But this is Luke, the nineteen year old kid from the cantina on Mos Eisley, only six years older and very different. He refuses to be afraid of Luke, no matter how much power he may wield now. He likes to think that Luke would never hurt him, would never do anything to him, even though he doesn't believe it.
“Come on, Han, what's got you so worked up?” Luke teases, smirking at him. “Is it the eyes? They can be a little unnerving. I can fix that.” And, even though he's standing a good ten feet away, Han sees the striking yellow shift to a calming, inviting blue. The blue it used to be. “That's a pretty useful trick, huh?”
The older man doesn't speak. He can't speak, his throat feels like he's never had a drink of water in his life. He's overwhelmed by Luke’s very presence, his mind running on hyper drive, trying to read the boy. Luke’s face is blank, always the best out of the two of them at hiding his emotions. But Han has always been good at figuring him out, at working things out of him. At this point, he's sure Luke can hear his thoughts, and the subtle chuckle he hears from Luke confirms it.
“Of course I can hear your thoughts, darling,” he says, stepping ever closer to Han. “You think so loudly, you always have.”
Han wants to step away, wants to make a run for the door, but he knows that it would be one of the most foolish things he’s ever done. And besides, Luke would beat him there. He's placed himself between the smuggler and the door. Han clears his throat, trying to find the will to speak. When he finally finds it, Luke is only five feet away, staring intently into Han’s eyes.
“L- Luke,” he says, wincing when his voice cracks. “What are- Why are you doing this?”
The blonde smiles, shaking his head. “You know why,” he asserts, continuing to move closer. He runs a gloved hand across Han’s cheek, and Han pushes back the instinct to pull away. “I’ve missed you, Han.”
The brunette’s mouth drops open. He's shocked by Luke’s confession. Why would Luke miss him? Surely he has enough, erm, willing participants that want to fuck the most powerful Sith Lord since Darth Vader’s fall. As Han thinks this, Luke sighs, making a ‘tut-tut’ noise with his mouth.
“Oh, Han,” he says. “As if anyone could replace you.” Han is about to protest, because he thinks he is exceptionally replaceable, but the sound is cut off by very soft lips pressing against his own. The kiss is experimental at first, but when Han doesn't pull away Luke pushes harder, reaching up and threading a hand into Han’s hair. Luke is clearly in control here, holding Han’s head where he wants it, kissing him so heatedly that the older man thinks he might actually melt. Stars, he missed this.
Luke smirks wildly into their kiss. He definitely heard that last thought loud and clear. He removes his hand from the older man's hair and places it on his chest, shoving him into the nearest chair. He makes short work of Han’s shirt, and points at his pants. “Off,” is all he says, and Han listens. While Han undresses, Luke takes off his robes, placing his lightsaber lightly on the ground just out of reach. For obvious reasons, he leaves his glove on his right hand. He pulls a vial of lube out of one of his pockets, coating the fingers on the good hand.
He opens himself quickly, only letting out small gasps when he accidentally presses against that spot inside himself. He works himself almost to the edge and then stops abruptly, wipes his hand on the arm of the chair and sinks to his knees.
“Fuck,” Han whispers. Luke’s head snaps up to look at him. He has a wicked look on his face, and he looks back down, taking Han’s dick into his mouth. Han’s hips jerk up, and Luke pulls off instantly, placing his hands on the hips to hold them down. He really goes for it then, licking around the head and teasing the very edge of his skin with teeth. The older man is groaning, with the occasional whimper slipping out. Luke pulls off with a ‘pop’, much too soon for Han’s liking, but he doesn't say anything. He just prays that Luke will do something soon.
His silent prayer is answered when Luke pushes him farther back in the chair and climbs into his lap. The chair is far big enough for the both of them. The Sith grabs Han’s cock, which is painfully hard, and holds it still so he can sink down on it. His eyes open wide as the length fills him, and Han gets lost in them. The blue is so calming and entrancing and Han almost forgets the extreme yellow that they truly are. It feels like living a lie, seeing the boy with his old blue eyes, the color they haven't been naturally in years.
“Darling, shh,” Luke coos, finally getting the cock all the way inside him. “Stop thinking. Just feel. I don't know when we’ll be able to do this again.” He rises up slowly, until only the head is still inside him, and then he drops, filling himself. Han groans, resisting the urge to thrust upwards. Luke rides him slowly at first, grinding down on him in between the actual fucking. He's got his hands on Han’s chest, pushing off of him as he lifts. They're both weirdly quiet right now, and Han can't stop himself from thinking of how it used to be, the two fucking in Han’s room on the Falcon, in temporary rooms on temporary rebel bases, Luke making the most obscene noises Han had ever heard.
Luke smirks, sinking down hard on Han’s cock again. “So that's what you want, huh? That's what’ll shut your mind up for a while?” Luke asks, clearly teasing him. The next time he lifts himself he angles his hips just the right way and when he drops, Han’s dick hits the spot perfectly. The blonde lets out the sluttiest moan he's let himself make in months.
Han’s head slams into the back of the chair and he groans, his hands reaching up on their own accord to rest on Luke’s hips. He doesn't try to control the pace, though, he knows Luke won't like that. He just rests his hands there, reveling in the perfect way they fit, as if his hands and Luke’s hips were made for each other.
The younger man picks ups the pace now, moaning and whimpering freely. Han his falling apart beneath him, and Luke knows he isn't going to last long. He bucks his hips a certain way, and Han cries out, “I’m gonna-” and his grip on Luke tightens as he comes in him, his eyes almost rolling back into his head. The Sith stills his motions, grinding just a little and tugging on his own dick, and he comes too, whispering Han’s name and splattering over Han’s stomach. He pulls off of the older man carefully, standing in front of him and watching him, a small smile on his face.
Han finds a speck of courage he didn't know he had and speaks up. “Luke. Stay. please.”
Luke’s heart breaks, he knows he can't stay. “Han, I can't. You know I can't.”
“Please. I can't handle you not being here anymore.”
The younger man frowns, looking the older over carefully. Then he gets an idea. He reaches his hand out, pulling Han up and cupping his face with both hands. “Come with me. Come back with me, you’ll be welcome on my space station. I’ll share my room. I can't be without you either.”
Han is tearing up now, and Luke wipes away the few that fall. He's torn in half, between the Rebels and Luke. Luke, once his lover, the kid from Tatooine, the man who saved his life on more than one occasion. He knows what he’s got to do.
He wraps an arm around Luke’s waist and kisses him softly. “Okay.”
They both dress quickly, and Luke places his lightsaber in one hand, holding tight to Han’s with the other. Once they're clear of the planet, Han looks over at him and laughs. It’s a genuine laugh, and Luke can't help but join in, even though he has no idea as to what could possibly be so funny.
Han laughs a little more. “That’s some persuasive technique you've got, kid.”