cimorene

the last entry discusses the het novel of doom. near the end of it the ofc/protagonist gets into slash, and lost and embedded in it are some snippets of han/luke i wrote while under the intoxicating influence of the hynotizing

cara_loup. the fact that i skipped around and only wrote the fun parts should probably make it MORE fun to read, and not less.

about three pages or so total.

--he met the probing, unexpected intensity of Luke's eyes, much closer than he'd--

Now what was showing on his face?

one
"No. Kid..." He said gruffly. "It's not that."

But Luke was relentless and calm in the face of his discomfiture. "Then what is it, Han?"

"Not Leia."
...

"We care about each other," Han continued hesitantly, feeling his way through clumsy words in the dark. "But we can't--we were wrong to try what we did'n all. It'd never work out. I know that. Leia knows it. No regrets."

two.
"No regrets?" Luke's voice was soft and steady. Light, not fragile, like his saber--

Maybe one, but he couldn't speak of it now. Han just shrugged, turned half away. "None." He had to stop thinking of what he was doing as waiting, Han thought irritably. There was nothing he was waiting for. He was tired of it for damn sure, and he'd be far more tired before it was over.

Because it never would be.

"Then why, Han?" said the inexorable voice, stopping him. He almost, almost turned around. An uneasy glance went over his shoulder. He couldn't read Luke's face.

"'M not sure anymore," he muttered half to himself, answering a different question entirely than the one Luke asked or the one lurking behind the
expressionless wide blue eyes. Something flitted over Luke's face. Han felt a visceral shock.

three.
The flight suit didn't do nearly enough to hide the perfect sculpting of Luke's slender body. Han wasn't staring, but he never quite managed to look away, either. "I wish you'd tell me what's wrong," he said.

"Ah, kid," he said, smiling with effort, "you always think something's wrong."

Then a slight smile, a twist of unexpected self-mocking wryness, twisted his full lips. "You mean it isn't?"

Han laughed and relaxed a little. "Don't worry about me. I've been tired, maybe a little distracted. Nothing to worry about."

Luke didn't say anything else, but his solemn blue gaze didn't release Han. He was doubtful.

How long could he be put off this way? His Jedi detachment only seemed to make him patient, not unconcerned. Han cursed himself mentally and tried to pull together. "Well, I guess I'll see you around." A swift wheel, and he was headed for the door again. Not two strides had fallen before a hand silently gripped his shoulder from behind, stopping him. Chills chased themselves up his throat and experimented with his knees. God, he felt like a horny teenager.

"Han." It sounded heavy and alien on his lips, like a word and not his best friend's name.

He turned reluctantly, reigning his reaction in sharply. No choice, so there was no sense in arguing with himself, was there? He'd just have to be sure none of it showed--he met the probing, unexpected intensity of Luke's eyes, much closer than he'd--

Now what was showing on his face?

four.
It was too dark in the room to escape the crackling of electricity between them. Had his eyes ever avoided Luke like this before? "It's hard to explain," he said gruffly. "You know I'm not much for words." He was delaying, and they both knew it.

Luke said earnestly, "Tell me."

"I--ah, kid."

The gaze softened, glowing black in the darkness with all the starlight from the window at his back, and he urged again, "Han, I just want know. I want to help you. It's not--"

Help. That was damned ironic with the hollow of the kid's neck filling like a bowl with a silver skim of starlight between the halves of his wrapped tunic, the deep shadow at the V where it gaped open. He wasn't certain he should trust his voice, but Han rushed into speech to silence Luke's coaxing. The tone of voice would get to him sooner or later, and he wasn't by any means decided to answer. "I know you just want to help, Luke. It's not that I'm trying to keep a secret--not that I don't trust you, you gotta understand. There are some things you've got to understand yourself before you can go to anyone else with them. I'm not sure I'd know what to say to you."

Luke studied him in silence for a moment, and then he said, "I think if you start talking, it will come."

"Kid, I don't--"

"I'll understand," he said with a ringing certainty, like one of those Jedi mind-tricks, but it wasn't, he knew--just Luke, all the way. Not that he'd've expected--
That look on Luke's face as he leaned forward and the shadows slid down his cheekbones, the way he said it. It was almost like... "It's not exactly that I," he blustered, because even if he didn't know everything that was wrong, he had a pretty good idea of what was going on. Starting with the first thing he thought wouldn't be such a great move. He doubted Luke'd follow him all the way from I don't know what it is to I've been falling in love with you for a while now. It might be a relief to say it--and Luke's eyes were so wide, his mouth so soft in the shadows.

five.
"Han," he said, and Han forgot to breathe: "don't." It was ridiculous how easily he said it, how natural he looked sitting there, how smoothly he moved when he put his hand on Han's shoulder, high at his neck, above the collar of his shirt. Unbelievable the way reality could just slip into dream like this. It must be something about the middle of the night--

--and then he couldn't think anymore, because reality and fantasy alike were gone, and all that was left was the sweet, bright explosion of a kiss on his open mouth.

six.
It's alright," Luke said, looking up calmly. He was sitting at Han's feet, his hair disarranged, with the red marks of Han's teeth on his neck conjuring to mind images of his mouth flushed and wide open.

Han stopped, and frowned.

"I understand," Luke continued, without breaking eye contact. "I knew you would pull away, Han. You don't have to explain anything. I understood what I was doing last night."

seven.
It didn't make any sense, getting mad at Luke. What was Luke's fault? The fucking? The fact that Han felt like an idiot? The fact that he was exactly right--there had been an apology coming? The worst of it was that Luke seemed to know exactly what Han would have said, while Han didn't know any more than he had when he'd first opened his mouth and stood there, gazing down at Luke's blue eyes and sculpted face.

He felt so damnably awkward, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from Luke. His imagination had no trouble warping that expression of calm knowledge into concealed derision.

There was nothing in the room, the sand-colored walls or the wide window, or the sun in Luke's hair, to tell him what to say, and he knew, knew he should be quiet. It didn't matter. "You don't understand as much," he snapped, "as you think you do."

eight.
"I'm sorry," Luke said, blinking.

Han took a savage delight in having discomfited him. "If you say--" he coughed, and had to start over. "It's not about saying 'yes' or 'no' to you," he continued. "When it comes to that, you didn't say much of anything much last night--" with a sidelong glance at Luke's sparkling-narrowed gaze that made him flush. "--and neither did I. But that's not. This isn't a," a vague gesture took in Luke from pale hair to his composedly folded legs and his bare toes, "new thing."

What was that in Luke's face? "Really," he said slowly. "Han..." Doubt, or? "...Han, we've both known about the physical attraction between us for a long time. I know you weren't expecting anything of the kind, though, and what we felt before is really irrelevant to the change now. I know you wanted me. And I know you don't know--"

Then they were both on the floor, Han folded on his knees in front of Luke, crouching in what felt like an ill-fitting skin, with his hair falling in front of his eyes to make him curse, though he was too distracted to brush it away. "No," he said. He'd had enough. "You don't know, Luke. You and your Jedi--kid, you don't know how I've--wanted since before Leia. You don't know how long I've--" and his voice was getting rough, but not too rough to finish. He wasn't going to stop now. "You don't know how long I've wanted this. I--get too attached to you, kid. I--think I--"

It was enough, then, with reality blacking out again, and nothing left but Luke's wide, startled eyes, and the liquid circle of his parted lips, with astonishment written in every beautiful line of his face.

end.