Work Text:
Saleucami is a temperate planet, covered in farmlands, caves, mountains and more. Lando’s never been before and he doesn’t know much about the place. The Empire has a slight presence there, enough to control who enters and leaves. It’s also enough to set Lando on edge.
After a year of helping out the Rebellion and transporting supplies to Imperial-controlled worlds, Lando’s anxiety has only increased within their presence. He’s already almost been caught once while passing through the Eadu system—he doesn’t want to know what the Empire is doing out there.
To make matters worse, Carlos is accompanying Max and Daniel on a mission in the Inner Rim because he still has Imperial access codes, and Charles is training Ollie back on Naboo.
So he is alone. Great.
The space port is crawling with people looking for transport off-world, and stormtroopers monitoring their chain codes. Lando keeps his head down as he passes, his hands twisting together. His anxiety’s really been getting worse.
The tension begins to ease off as he gets further into town and away from the Imps. The marketplace is starting to wind down as the lunch rush passes and the crowds are dwindling along with them. Lando blends in quickly, heading for the place where George said he had to meet their supplier.
He doesn’t know their name, doesn’t even know what they look like. His heart rate spikes at the thought. He’d told George that he wasn’t a big fan of not knowing who he was meeting. All the suppliers they’ve met in the past have been Rebellion allies or fellow smugglers. People he knows. He’s not a big fan of this being different.
The meet-up point is at the other end of the market. The sun has started to disappear behind the houses lining the street by now and it emphasises the shadows that are projected onto the floor by the market stands. The sight reminds him slightly of Tatooine, of the shadows cast on the ground during sunset. He winces at the thought. Recently, memories from Tatooine have begun to haunt him. Memories of Oscar too…
There’s no one else there when he arrives so Lando props himself against the wall of a nearby alley. He watches the area with careful eyes, chin turned down and letting the shadows hide him slightly. In the hidden depths of his jacket, he picks at his scabbing cuticles.
There’s a small commotion to his left and Lando glances over to watch one of the street vendors wave a threatening finger in the hand of an offended-looking civilian, who’d knocked over a basket of jogans. The civilian seems to return the negative words in kind and Lando tilts his head to watch. The argument seems quite interesting. In doing so, he doesn’t notice the man approaching.
“Norris?”
Lando jumps and whips his head around. The man’s blonde and tall, with stubble lining his jawline. There’s a blaster at the man’s hip and a green leather jacket is zipped up over his chest. A bounty hunter, by the looks of things.
Lando straightens, the jogan argument forgotten.
“Who’s asking?” He asks, warily. His hand falls down to brush against his own weapon. The corner of the man’s mouth lifts slightly.
“I’m your supplier.” The man informs in accented Basic, “I have the medical supplies you ordered.”
The supplier? Huh. Lando nods slowly, “Lead the way.”
The man turns around without another word and begins weaving through the crowds. Lando hurries after him, frowning slightly.
“Do I get to know your name?” Lando asks, falling into step beside him.
“Is Norris really your name?” The man returns.
“Hey, you have something to call me by. What can I call you?”
The man raises an amused eyebrow, “Hulk. You can call me Hulk.”
This time, Lando raises an amused eyebrow. Hulk? Seriously? He opens his mouth to retort about it but then takes note of his surroundings, his comments forgotten. They’re nearing the edge of the city now and the man Hulk leads them through rows of slanted houses.
“Do you regularly supply medical stuff, Hulk?” Lando asks, grimacing at a dark red patch at the side of the street.
“Do you regularly ask unnecessary questions?” Hulk replies. Lando grins.
“No, but I like you. You remind me of someone.”
Hulk doesn’t say anything, just continues walking forward. Lando’s grin droops but his amusement is still there. Hulk does remind him of someone. Reminds him of Oscar. The no-nonsense, almost deadpan, quiet amusement that he’s come to like about Oscar. Hulk seems similar in that way.
But that’s where the similarities end.
Lando’s smile disappears. Hulk doesn’t have Oscar’s warm brown eyes or his bunny-like teeth. He doesn’t have Oscar’s floppy hair or the cute scrunch in his brow while he’s staring at a problem in his machinery. Hulk isn’t Oscar. Lando’s heart twists in his chest. He can’t remember the last time he saw Oscar. It must have been months now—the longest time that they’ve not seen each other since they first met.
The loneliness in his chest grows at the thought. He misses Oscar. He really, really does. Perhaps more so than he misses his crew. He misses his dry humour, soft smile and the way he folds over when he laughs. Force, he misses him so much.
Lando pushes the feeling aside and refocuses on the path ahead. Now is not the time to be thinking about Oscar. The houses have started to thin out now and the civilian presence has grown sparse—at least on the streets.
Eventually, the street they’re walking down opens up and Lando spots an old freighter up ahead. Lando doesn’t know much about ships, only what he’s learnt from Oscar and Carlos, but one look at this one and Lando’s surprised it’s still flying. It looks like it’s hanging together by a thread.
“You fly that junk?” The words leave Lando’s mouth before he can stop them. Hulk turns and raises an eyebrow. Lando backtracks quickly, “Sorry, I don’t mean it like that—it just looks like it’s going to fall apart any minute, ‘s all.”
The state of this ship would give Oscar a stroke. The minuscule smirk appears on Hulk’s lips again.
“She’s hanging in there.” He replies, “You sound like a friend of mine when you make comments like that.”
Lando snorts. As they get closer to the flying heap of junk, he notices that Hulk isn’t alone on his supply run. A tall brunette stands at the bottom of the stairs, inspecting the crates lined there while holding a hand up to protect his eyes from the beating-down sun; with the houses no longer around, Lando notices the bright light peaking through the fog determinedly.
The brunette looks up when they approach. He’s younger than Lando expected—likely around the same age as Ollie—but still taller than himself with dark, tanned skin. A grin breaks across the boy’s face when he spots them and it only widens as he looks over at Hulk.
“This your rendezvous?” He asks Hulk. Lando smirks. They come to a stop in front of the guy and Lando crosses his arms over his chest—a habit he’s recently realised he must have picked up from Oscar.
“Gabi, this is Norris.” Hulk introduces, moving past the younger to check the crates himself.
Gabi’s grin widens into his own smirk and he sticks out a hand.
“Glad to do business with you, mate.”
Lando grabs the offered hand and shakes it with a chuckle, “Nice to meet you too.” He drops the hand and takes a step forward to look over the crates, “This all of it?”
“There’s two more still on board. Our other crew member’s just handling a problem with our droid then he’ll bring them out.” Gabi says.
“What’s that blasted droid done now?” Hulk mutters, shaking his head. Gabi just shrugs but Lando spots the amused expression and briefly wonders exactly what this droid has done.
“Sounds good.” He says, “I’ll fetch my ship, bring it over, and we can load ‘em up.”
They both nod.
Lando turns on his heel and begins the journey back to the space port. It doesn’t take long but his anxieties return as he gets closer and closer to the Imperial’s managing the place. Luckily, he slips through without a hitch. As soon as he resettles into the pilot’s chair, he lets out a sigh of relief and begins the take-off sequence.
It’s ridiculous that he should get so worried about a small squad of white-armoured Imps. He knows that, if something were to happen, he’d be fine in warding them off. He talks himself out of problems all the time—he’s a smuggler, for Force sake. Yet, that small drop of fear still appears whenever he notices them. He doesn’t doubt his abilities, no way in hell. So, why? Why is he so scared of it?
The anxiety disappears as he flies over the town. The comforting swoop in his stomach appears as he dips down towards the ground. He’s always much more comfortable in a cockpit, especially if he’s the one flying.
Soon enough, he’s pulling up beside Hulk’s ship and Lando lowers the McLaren down beside the pile of crates. He doesn’t waste a second, shutting down the engine and opening the ramp. By the time he gets down there, Gabi’s already started pushing the first couple crates up the boarding ramp.
“Just put them in the common area through there.” He points at the open room off to the side and Gabi nods, disappearing around the corner. Lando then turns and heads down the ramp. Hulk’s disappeared—likely in the ship, handling the droid problem—so Lando activates the next set of crates and follows after Gabi.
It doesn’t take them long to load up the majority of the crates before Hulk returns. This time, a droid—an old Artoo unit that could do with an oil bath—follows behind him, beeping loudly and reminding Lando of Basil.
“Oscar’ll be out in a second.” Hulk says, activating a set of crates and guiding them over to the McLaren.
Lando freezes, one hand hovering over the controls of one of the crates. Oscar? No. There’s no way that’s his Oscar. His Oscar is all the way back on Tatooine where he is repairing broken speeders and grumbling about Bas. His Oscar is not on Saleucami helping bounty hunters deliver medical supplies to a Rebel-contracted smuggler.
He shakes his head and activates the crate. He almost bumps into Gabi walking it up the ramp and only manages a small, half-hearted apology as he walks past. He ignores the confused and slightly concerned look from the younger.
When he returns the next time, the pile of crates have disappeared and Gabi and Hulk stand in wait. His thoughts around Oscar have left now and Lando raises an amused eyebrow as the Artoo unit nudges Gabi’s foot consistently. He watches the younger aim a kick at the droid’s side but Hulk nudges him away, preventing the action.
“Well, I think that’s everything.” Lando starts, stopping a foot away from them in case someone gets shoved towards him, “Thanks, guys.”
Hulk nods once and Gabi grins.
“Tell your boss that we’re happy to help.” Hulk says, a knowing look in his eye. Lando raises an eyebrow. Does Hulk know these supplies are for the Rebellion?
“And next time can it be something more interesting than medical supplies?” Gabi adds.
“Those supplies are much needed.” Lando says, “My employer appreciates what you could get your hands on.”
“In that case,” Hulk starts, “there’s something else you might like.”
He gestures up the steps, just as a shadow moves forward. A crate is pushed down the steps and Lando freezes as soon as he spots the person guiding it.
“We thought a couple medical droids would be beneficial too,” Hulk is saying, “so we snatched some of them as well.”
The words barely register. Lando just stares at their companion. The person pushing the crate stops at the bottom of the steps. When they look up to meet his eye, they freeze as well. Lando’s heart stutters in his chest.
He could recognise those brown eyes and that swoop of hair anywhere.
It’s Oscar. His Oscar. Here. On Saleucami.
“Oscar?” The sounds barely come together to form the word but Lando doesn’t care. Oscar knows what he’s saying. Oscar always knows what he’s saying.
“Lando?” Oscar’s hands fall away from the crate and he straightens.
“You two know each other?” Hulk asks, amused. Gabi’s head is moving between the pair as if watching an intense game of dejarik.
“Er… yeah.” Oscar breathes. Lando’s gaze darts all over Oscar’s face, taking in the freckles, the beautiful curl of his lashes. He scans over the familiar sight of Oscar’s jacket, the way his arms look in the material—the way they always look—then back up to his floppy fringe. Oscar looks the same as always. Lando returns his eyes to the mechanic’s face. It is his Oscar. As smart and as handsome as ever.
Oscar seems to be doing a similar thing, taking in the sight of seeing Lando again.
“How have you been?” Lando manages, shoulders tensing as he’s reminded of the months since they last saw each other.
“Yeah, yeah, alright. I’ve been good.” Oscar nods quickly, stumbling over his words. Between them, Hulk winces.
“That’s–that’s good.” Lando nods, “How’s the shop? How’s Mark?”
“Shop’s good. Business is scarce though. Mark’s… Mark.” Oscar replies and Lando can’t help but snort.
“That’s good…” Lando murmurs, still not quite believing the sight in front of him.
“This is kinda awkward.” Gabi mutters. Hulk shoots him a glare before grabbing the younger’s arm and dragging him over to the crate Oscar brought out.
“How, er—how are you?” Oscar asks, wringing his hands together, “How’s–Where’s Charles and Carlos?”
“They’re on separate missions. I’m–We’ve been fine. Good.” Lando answers and Oscar nods along. Silence settles between them.
Why is this so awkward? Has it really been so long that they can’t act normal around each other? That they can’t be friends?
Oscar looks just as awkward as Lando feels and he wants nothing more than to dart forward and bring the mechanic into his arms. He wants to hug Oscar so bad. He rocks slightly on the balls of his feet.
He’s missed him. He’s missed him so much.
Oscar’s shoulders sag, “I missed you too.”
Lando blinks. He said that out loud? Oscar’s mouth twitches up into a smile and Lando closes his eyes briefly.
“I said that out loud.” He sighs, resolutely. Oscar chuckles quietly.
“Yeah, you did.”
Lando shakes his head but can’t help but smile too. When he opens his eyes again, Oscar’s standing closer than before. Close enough that Lando could reach out and touch him. Hug him—kiss him if he wants.
His eyes scan over Oscar’s face again. Dank farrick, he wants to hug him. His hands twitch at his sides but he holds down the urge. Oscar’s face softens and steps closer.
“I did miss you, y’know.” Oscar says.
Lando tilts his chin up to continue to look Oscar in the eye. Oscar’s words settle beneath his rib cage, curling up and tucking themselves right next to his heart.
“I missed you too.” Lando murmurs and he can’t hold it back anymore. He almost jumps forward, wrapping his arms around Oscar’s shoulders and burying his face into the crook of his neck. Oscar tenses for a second before Lando feels arms wrap around his waist and pull him even closer.
Lando sighs, letting himself sink into Oscar’s embrace. He’s only ever been hugged by Oscar once before—it was brief and they were both rather drunk—but this has to be the best hug he’s ever received from anyone. Who knew Oscar gave such good hugs?
It feels like hours but it’s less than a minute later and they’re pulling apart. Lando smiles brightly up at the mechanic and he watches a light blush appear on Oscar’s cheeks.
“You two are weirdly cute.”
They both jump apart, eyes darting away from each other. Gabi laughs loudly and even Hulk seems to smile at their reaction—albeit brief.
“Sorry to cut this reunion short, but we’ve got to get back to Tatooine.” Hulk interrupts.
Lando’s cheeks flare and, beside him, Oscar itches the back of his neck.
“These droids are for you.” Gabi pushes the crate forward, smirking at them both.
“Right. Thanks.” Lando grabs it and brings it towards him, “It was nice meeting you guys. Appreciate this.”
Hulk nods once and Gabi grins. Lando then glances up at Oscar, who’s already looking at him.
“See you later?” Oscar asks and Lando can hear the hope in his voice. His chest clenches at the tone. It’s been too long.
“Of course.” Lando smiles and catches the tiny sag of relief.
A few seconds later, they’re parting ways, both heading up separate ramps into separate ships. Lando pauses before he enters, glancing back over his shoulder and meeting Oscar’s eye. The mechanic smiles, softly.
Force, Lando really has missed him. Next time, it won’t be so long in between visits. Maybe next time, Oscar’ll kiss him instead.