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“Have you always had those?” Leia asks, scrunching her face in slight confusion. “Had what?” Han mumbles in response. He’s too wrapped up fiddling with some control panel on the Falcon to fully register Leia’s question. “Those earrings,” Leia says while making a vague gesture toward the silver studs adorning Han’s ears.
“Oh, yeah, I guess.” Han moves his hand to his earlobe and takes the earring between his fingers. “I mean, I’ve always had ‘em pierced. I just don’t always put an earring in.” Han moves to put the Falcon into autopilot and swivels his seat to fully face Leia. “‘S not optimal to be worrying ‘bout fashion choices when you’re fighting in a rebellion,” Han quips, taking Leia’s hand, hesitantly, into his own. Leia rolls her eyes at Han’s attempt to be a smart-ass, but doesn’t pull away from his affection. “What? You don’t like ‘em?” Han asks, noting Leia’s silence.
“No! No, they’re very pretty,” Leia reassures. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be into jewelry. I wasn’t expecting you to be into anything besides this damn ship, if we’re being honest,” Leia jokes, attempting to give Han a taste of his own smart-ass medicine. Han smirks at her, running his thumb over the back of her hand, “I’m developing a taste for the finer things in life.”
“When did you get them pierced?" Leia asks, after a moment, trying to gain more insight into Han’s elusive past. Suddenly, Han withdraws his hand from Leia’s and spins himself back toward the controls of the Falcon. He switches autopilot off and regains control of the ship. Leia is startled by Han’s sudden evasiveness. Had she said something wrong? Her hands fall back into her lap and the pair sits in silence for what feels like hours.
“On Corellia. When I was younger,” Han says finally. “Getting your ears pierced was all the rage back then. For girls, at least.” Oh, Leia realizes why he might be so hesitant to talk about his past in regards to his earrings. “On Alderaan, it was normal for both men and women to wear earrings. They were a sign of elegance and class.” Bringing up her home planet is painful, but Leia is quick to ensure that she has no issue with Han’s choice of jewelry. “Yeah, well, Princess, on Corellia it was not. Kids did not take well to a boy wearing diamond studs. They called me a—” Han says a word in Corellian that Leia does not recognize. She gathers its meaning from context clues. “Han, I'm so sorry. That’s awful.” He looks over at her and shrugs, “Don’t be sorry; you weren't the one shoving me in the dirt calling me a cocksucker.”
Every new detail that Han reveals makes more and more tears prick at the corners of Leia’s eyes. She reaches over to place a comforting hand on Han’s arm. She opts not to say anything, knowing that Han needs to vent. “And when I got older and started figuring stuff out, y’know, I still held onto that shame from being made fun of as a kid. I couldn't accept the fact that I might like guys too because it felt wrong, it felt dirty, it felt like something I needed to hide. If I liked guys then that meant that they were right, and I couldn’t let them be right. So I pretended I didn’t. For a long time. Not until I left home and started smuggling. Met Lando—” Han trails off at that last bit. Leia, still processing the plethora of new information being learned about Han, tells him, “No one should be made to feel that way because of something as trivial as a sexual preference. You did not deserve to be treated that way. I love you no matter how you identify. I promise.”
Han brings himself to make eye contact with Leia. “Thanks, Princess. Shoulda never got ‘em pierced, right? Would have made this whole coming out thing a lot easier.” Leia rises from her seat and moves to straddle Han in his. “Oh no you definitely should have,” she says, nipping his earlobe. Once again, Han moves to turn the ship to autopilot.