Chapter Text
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“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Leia exclaimed, staring at the dress she was meant to wear for tonight. At least the designer had respected Leia’s request for a level of modesty and her preference for white. But the dress was a beautiful illusion. With a sheer and fitted bodice, Leia now knew why the designer had included a nude colored corset with the ensemble. The skirt was fitted through her hips flaring out into ruffles in an asymmetrical line starting at her left hip. Glittering stones were sewn in floral patterns scattered about the bodice and hips. But the problem? Over a hundred covered buttons going down the back of the dress. Hadn’t the designer ever heard of zippers?
“Everything alright?” Han asked from the other side of the bathroom door. Leia sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a pair of her handmaidens right now. Not some hotshot pilot she knew wanted to get her in bed.
“For the most part; I need your help though.” She dug through the bottom of the bag, looking for the button hook she knew had to be included.
“Yeah, okay.”
With button hook and dress in hand, she took a steadying breath and whispered a quick prayer to the Goddess for patience before opening the door and putting her best mission face on.
Whatever he must have expected it obviously wasn’t Leia in a corset, stockings, and garters. She couldn’t keep the small smirk off her face as his eyes widened sweeping over her body before snapping up to her face, a flush rising up his neck. At least he had the decency to not make a lewd comment now. “First, I need you to help me into this contraption someone deemed a dress,” she said, holding up the offending garment.
To his credit, he managed to rearrange his features into neutrality as he nodded. “And second?”
She tossed the button hook to him, her smirk growing as his eyebrows knitted together. “I need you to button me into it.” She showed him the long line of covered buttons down the back and his eyes widened once more. “Apparently they don’t have zippers here. Think you can handle all that, flyboy?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow and giving him a challenging smile. The only way any of them would get through this with their insanity intact was to try to have a sense of humor about it.
He answered her smile with a cocky grin. “I dunno, Sweetheart. ‘M a lot better at takin’ dresses off.”
She rolled her eyes. “I have to be wearing a dress before you can take it off, laserbrain.” She’d also require his assistance in getting out of it later tonight.
“Well let’s get it on ya, then,” he said, pocketing the button hook and reaching for the dress. She handed it over to him with a threat to not let the delicate sheer fabric snag. His eyebrows knitted together once more as he held the dress up, twisting and turning it as he examined it. “How you wanna do this?”
Leia considered the dress, trying to figure out the best way to get into it without damaging it, smudging her makeup, or fucking up her hair. “Hold it up above your head by the neckline and I’ll sort of...just crawl up into it.” He nodded and did as he was told. Gently gathering the ruffled hem, she carefully lifted it up and guided the skirts over her head, taking care to protect her hours of painstaking work. The overbust corset didn’t exactly help matters as it restricted her movement. “Now carefully lower it. You mess up my hair or makeup and I swear by the Force, I will blast you,” she said, glaring at him through the sheer fabric.
He fixed her with another cocky grin. “No, you won’t. Y’still need me to get you in ‘n out of this damned thing.” His fingers brushed her skin as he settled the garment on her shoulders. She swallowed and suppressed a shiver, pushing her arms through the sleeves.
Heat swept through her veins as he looked down at her and she couldn’t suppress the shiver this time. The way he was staring at her, not like a piece of meat—something to be consumed—but as though she was some priceless piece of art; something beautiful and awe-inspiring. Heat prickled at the back of her neck and she had to fight the urge to duck her head. She would not back down and give any indication that she was the least bit affected. It didn’t help that he was still standing so close to her that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body.
She cleared her throat and pursed her lips. “The buttons aren’t going to fasten themselves,” she said, adopting her best haughty royal tone as she raised her chin.
He blinked and the electricity between them dissipated as he gave her a lopsided grin. “Relax, Your Highnessness.” Leia rolled her eyes and turned on her heel with a swish of her skirts. “Uh, y’think you could stand on a table or somethin’? You’re…” Oh, he was lucky he let that sentence go unfinished.
She twisted around and scanned their shared suite. “Is the desk tall enough for you, Captain?” she sniffed.
He spread his hands out, adopting the very air of innocence. “Hey s’not my fault you’re—”
“Go ahead and finish that sentence. I dare you,” she growled, narrowing her eyes. He held up his hands, wisely choosing to keep silent. She carefully gathered her skirt up and crossed to the desk pushed against the far wall.
“Here,” he murmured from over her shoulder, offering a hand to steady her. Deciding it was better to allow him to help her than to potentially damage the dress, she reluctantly accepted it. His skin was warm and rough just as it always was.. She ignored the electricity that seemed to crackle under her skin at every slide of his calloused skin against hers.
They didn’t speak again until she was securely on top of the desk with her back to him.
“Uhhh…”
He sounded so deeply uncomfortable she forced herself to soften her tone. “What?”
“I, uh.” She heard the rustle of clothing as he shifted around behind her. “I’m not—I wouldn’t—I want you to know I’m not gonna try to cop a feel,” he said. A smile spread across her face. As rakish as he could be, Han was always respectful when it mattered.
“I know; I trust you,” she said gently. She heard him let out a breath and she could almost seem him nod in her mind.
“I’m gonna start then.” She nodded silently, her heart beating faster as the fabric of her dress moved across her skin while he began the long task of securing each tiny covered button. She closed her eyes and forced down the rising heat in the pit of her stomach.
If you’d told her two and a half years ago, that she’d trust Han to keep his hands to himself in this situation, she’d have laughed and questioned your sanity. But she did trust him. They’d been in so many compromising situations at this point, from sharing beds to sharing body heat. And it’d been a long time since she had to question whether it wise to put her life in his hands. Han was unquestionably one of the people she trusted most in the galaxy. As infuriating as he could be some days and despite how often he threatened to leave.
“Kriff,” he muttered darkly, “why d’they have t’be so damn small?”
She chuckled. “I think I’m going to keep track of how many times you swear during this process,” she said, a grin stretching across her face. If she had Threepio here, she’d also have him keep track of just how many different curses he used.
“Go for it, Sweetheart,” he said with a small chuckle. And then, “Fuck.”
She dropped her head, silently shaking with laughter. Part of her felt horrible for laughing at him but this was the absolute last situation she’d imagined for their night. “Three.”
“Whatcha gonna do when I say ‘fuck’ in some language you don’t understand? Huh? What then?” Leia had to stifle a gasp as his knuckle brushed the back of her thigh, setting fire to her skin as though he’d burned her. She squeezed her eyes shut, heat pooling low in her stomach. Goddess. Images flashed in her mind and she had to fight her way back to the present. He asked you a question.
“I suppose my data will be off,” she said with a shrug, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt.
“Hey, Princess, do us a favor and try not t’move. Makes my job harder.” His voice gave no indication whether he’d noticed her lapse in control. Either he was being kind or he was just too distracted to notice.
“Noted. Sorry,” she murmured.
“S’alright.”
After about his twentieth curse and innumerable Corellian mutterings, she decided to try to break the tension. “Hey, Han?” He grunted. “Bet this wasn’t the way you imagined having me over a desk,” she said wryly.
It paid off. Kind of. He made an odd spluttering noise and she heard the clatter of the button hook on the desk quickly followed by yet another kriff. She couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in her chest.
“Sweetheart, y’never fail to supercede my imagination, I’ll tell y’that.”
She was so thankful she was facing away from him as it was impossible to keep from grinning. The way he said it, she could hear the smile in his voice. Goddess, get it together, Organa.
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As a general rule, Han detested any sort of formal wear. And he hated the events that required such clothes. So logic dictated that the last thing he ought to be doing right now was enjoying himself. Seated next to the minister’s wife and charged with the task of charming her, the dinner wasn’t torture. Kea Ekwash was interesting enough—certainly better than the last politician he’d had to entertain for the sake of Her Worship’s rebellion. But the real entertainment was watching Leia. Flirting with her for the sake of their cover, laughing with her. Being able to observe her without being chewed out or getting an earful from Chewie. It was always interesting to watch her in these situations. He was so used to seeing her in fatigues and flight suits, getting her hands dirty with the rest of the rank and file. You’d have never guessed she was royalty.
That was until he saw her slip into some expensive dress and twist her hair up into some elaborate style. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what made the difference. Perhaps it was the set of her shoulders or the lift of her chin. Whatever it was, she slid into all like a second skin. She was on familiar ground; this was her element. But the more he watched her, the more convinced he was that something wasn’t quite right. The second skin seemed to chafe and irritate her. Though it had taken him this long to finally notice it. Her smile was just a bit too tight. Her laugh a little too stiff. One had to be familiar with her real smile and deep and mesmerizing sound of her true, unbridled laughter. That was a sight to behold.
He got the distinct impression she’d rather be in the middle of a shoot out or elbow deep in the innards of a Y-Wing right now. She put on a good Sabacc face, sure but to anyone that knew her, it was clear she just wasn’t…comfortable. But ever the good soldier, she went where she was needed without complaint, regardless of her own personal desires.
A sharp pain shot up his shin and Leia cocked her eyebrow at him. Shit. He’d been staring. The minister and his wife were staring at him too. He quickly thought through the conversation. So what made you give up smuggling and join the good fight, Captain Organa?
Heat crept uncomfortably up the back of his neck. He cleared his throat and sat a little straighter. “Same person that’s gonna get you to join, Minister,” he said, giving Minister Ekwash and his wife a lopsided smile.
Kea chuckled. “Oh?”
“That woman right there,” he said, turning his smile to Leia, his heart giving a sharp squeeze. She was still on his ass about enlisting. At this point, he didn’t even know why he still hadn’t enlisted yet. He’d never left after touching down on Yavin IV. Jabba, that’s why. “Isn’t anyone else more committed or believes more in their work than my Leia. If anyone’s capable of taking on the Empire and winning, it’s her, Minister.” Han couldn’t tell for sure in the candlelight but it would seem like Leia became flushed.
“Well, our rebellion wouldn’t be anywhere without our pilots that brave blockades and risk Imperial capture to bring us the supplies we need,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes and smiling at him with that smile. Her real smile. Or at least, that’s what he’d like to believe. He could almost believe her words. A quiet wave of ‘ohhhh’s and ‘awwwwww’s and delighted titters went around the table.
“Of course it’d be so much easier if we could get regular shipments of fuel,” Han said, turning back to the minister with a crooked grin. Sorvae’s laugh boomed and echoed off the marble tile. Just then an aide scurried in and bent between the minister and Leia, distress clearly evident on the young woman’s face. “Grand Moff Sundar is here, Sir,” she whispered. Han’s stomach clenched.
Leia’s face noticeably paled but never once did she look panicked or frightened. She simply smiled and graciously thanked their hosts before pushing back from the table. He quickly followed suit.
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The telltale clatter of Stormtrooper armor echoed around the corner at the far end of the hall. Leia’s heart clenched before it began pounding in her chest. They couldn’t go back and there was no other exit. Think, Organa. Her heart was going to crack a rib, she was sure of it. Think. Voices distorted over tinny speakers. THINK. An alcove.
She yanked Han into the recessed space. “Kiss me,” she demanded, hands fisting in the lapels of his jacket. It was stupid and desperate but it might just be stupid enough to work.
“What?!” Bushy eyebrows knitted together above confused hazel eyes.
“Kiss me.” Trust me. She stared up at him, silently begging him. There was no time. No better option.
And then his hand was cupping her face, his lips on hers. His callouses gently scraped against her skin but his lips were soft and warm. The scent of his aftershave overwhelmed her sense of smell, but she could still detect the faintest hint of engine grease under it all. That comforting smell that was purely Han. Despite everything, heat pooled low in her stomach. He tasted of fine wine and sugary desserts and a different kind of desperation filled her. A hunger. She wanted to know what he really tasted like. What his tongue would feel like against hers.
His other hand went around her waist and she slipped a hand inside his jacket, her “engagement” ring catching on his lapel. Goddess, he was so warm. Like fire ran through his veins rather than blood. She snaked a hand around his back, pulling him closer. She needed him closer. Her body bowed against his as seemed to agree. His fingers tangled in her hair and a small whimper escaped her throat. She didn’t care. Electric currents seemed to thrum under her skin. It felt so good. All of it, all of it felt so good. So right. It shouldn’t feel like this. Somewhere, she distantly registered the sound of boots against marble. They didn’t stop.
Han was the one to eventually break it. He pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers before briefly pressing his lips to hers. Tenderly—the action lacking the heat and hunger from moments ago. Swallowing audibly, he pulled back, dropping the hand on her face but he still rested the other on her waist. Taking a shaky breath, Leia forced herself to open her eyes. She peered up at him through her eyelashes, not sure what to expect.
Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t that same awed gaze as earlier. Anger, sure. Even hunger and heat wouldn’t have surprised her. But this was almost worshipful. Heat pricked at the back of her neck at the intensity. Goddess. She swallowed hard.
And then he blinked and seemed to get a hold of himself. He gently pressed her against the wall holding up his hand as he checked the hallway. She knew it was all clear by the way his shoulders relaxed before he even said anything. “All clear,” he said looking back at her with a giddy grin, like he couldn’t believe it worked. She couldn’t either. “Let’s get outta here.”
“Wait. You have—you have lipstick on your—” Why it even mattered to her, she wasn’t sure. An Imperial Moff was walking around the building. But he just rolled his eyes and leaned forward to allow her to wipe the red smudges from his face, the corners of his mouth upturned. She gently cupped his jaw and dragged the pad of her thumb across his lower lip.
“Better?” he asked, smirking down at her. Heat rose up her neck and for once she couldn’t come up with something clever to say. So she just nodded and hoped he didn’t sense the fact that she wanted to melt through the floor. He chuckled and grabbed her hand, looking around the corner once more before pulling her out of the alcove. “C’mon, Princess.”
At this point in the night, she didn’t fight the way his fingers threaded through hers as they rushed through the winding halls of the government compound to the secreted land speeder.
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“Here, take this,” Han said, shrugging off his dinner jacket and draping it around her shoulders. She opened her mouth to argue but he cut her off with a raised finger. “Don’t argue. S’cold and you’re in nothin’ but scraps.” She glared at him but didn’t protest. Her dress wasn’t scraps but it didn’t do much to protect her from the cold either.
“Thank you,” she murmured, slipping her arms through the sleeves and pulling the garment tighter around her shoulders. He grunted, straddling the speeder and turning the engines over. She resisted the urge to bury her nose in the collar as she climbed on behind him, sitting sideways. Damned dress. She wrapped her arms around his waist, splaying her hands across his stomach. Whether it was a trick of the wind suddenly roaring in ears or his breathing hitched.
They didn’t even make it two minutes out of the compound before they were being pursued by Stormtroopers.