THE NIGHT IS YOUNG

-The usual disclaimers apply. I own nothing and earn no profit from this. These are George's dolls, he just lets me play with them sometimes!

A/N I've been lurking the HanLeiaFanFicWriters blog for awhile, and got a little inspired by the Children of the Jedi Missing Moment Challenge they posted. This isn't my favourite piece of mine ever, but hey, smut is smut, right?

She pulled his arms more closely around her, closing her eyes and drifting in the scents of soap, and his flesh, and the thick, slightly sulfurous murk of the night.

His grip tightened around her, holding her fast against his body. He knew she had dreams. He'd waked her up from them, and held her against his chest while she cried, too many times to count. She felt the breath of his lips move the hair at the crown of her head. "There was nothing you could have done."

"I know. But at least once a day I think: I couldn't save them, but I can make those who did it pay." She turned in his arms, looking up at him in the misty apricot light. "Would you do it?"

Han grinned down at her. "Like a shot. But I'm not the Chief of State."

"Would you do it to please me?"

He laid his hand along her cheek, leaned down to kiss her lips. He said softly, "No. Not even if you asked."

He led her inside. As he stopped to close the shutters behind them, Leia paused by the room's small table, where a half dozen shallow cakes of colored wax floated in a great glass bowl of water. She flicked the switch on the long stem of the lighter, touched in turn each wick. The drifting lights painted wavery circles of amber and daffodil on the ceiling and walls. Her eyes met Han's over the floating candle flames; she let slip the shawl she'd worn over her shoulders, and held out to him her hand.

He took it gently, touched his lips first to her knuckles, then turned it over and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. There were no need for words now, everything had already been said, and Leia shivered slightly as his fingertips made a slow trail up her bare arm.

She wanted to touch him. She wanted to run her fingers over every inch of his skin, feel every muscle flex, press her ear to his chest and listen to every heartbeat. She wanted him to burn for her, the way she did for him, and she wanted to watch as his desire grew under her careful ministrations. She stretched up to catch his mouth with hers, and the kiss deepened quickly into passion - the passion that always came from such emotional outbursts from either of them. His lips moved against hers, soft but insistent, and his tongue probed gently against hers for long moments before he pulled back slightly to suck on her bottom lip.

Her hands were roaming the broad expanse of muscle that covered his shoulder blades, stroking gently down his back and then around to his stomach, before making their way back up to his chest. There she ran her fingers gently through the sparse hair, and rubbed her palms over his nipples before breaking their kiss to lower her head and take one of the small peaks into her mouth.

Leia suppressed a satisfied smile as she heard his breath hitch at the sensation of her tongue working over the sensitive flesh, and his hand went to the back of her head, holding her against him. She found the knot where he had tied the sarong around his waist but didn't undo it - instead she followed the edges of the fabric so she could slip her hands inside, seeking out the long muscle that was hardening quickly.

She stroked the full length of him a few times, then reached down to cup his testicles in both hands, squeezing and rubbing gently until he groaned into her shoulder. Not letting her mouth rest on his nipple, she moved her fingers to the very tip of him next, teasing that extra-sensitive skin the way he loved; the way only she knew how. She felt a certain power course through her at his reaction, and she allowed it to intoxicate her.

She wanted him in her mouth, wanted to feel him writhe and hear him hiss her name as she worked her tongue all around him, sucking on the soft flesh that surrounded such a hard organ. Without thought she began to lower herself, but Han caught her by the arms before she could get too far.

"Leia, sweetheart…" His voice was breathless, filled with want. "You know I don't like you on your knees."

He never had, not since they'd first started to learn each other's bodies way back on that fateful trip to Bespin. After Jabba's Palace he'd been hesitant; after she'd finally revealed to him all that had happened to her aboard the Death Star he'd tried to ban this particular act from their bedroom entirely.

"But you make me feel so good," she'd pleaded with him. "I just want you to feel as good as I feel…"

She'd been so insistent, so persuasive, that he'd conceded. "Alright, but not like this…not with you below me…"

Now it was she who conceded to his rule, pausing only to untie the sarong and let it fall to the floor before she gently pushed him back towards the giant bed. He settled back against the headboard and Leia climbed into the space between his legs, brushing her lips against his for a lingering moment before lowering her head to take him finally - finally! - into her mouth.

She had a hundred techniques for pleasing him this way, and she ran through her repertoire slowly, listening for his reactions to guide her, and soon her mouth was working frantically as his hands fisted in her hair.

"Leia," he cried out, voice choked. "Don't make me come yet…"

But she was lost in his pleasure, his desire providing a welcome distraction from the dark thoughts that had plagued her mind earlier. She needed this, needed him to make her forget, to take away her pain for a little while…

Han gripped her arms tightly, drawing her up so she was eye level with him, and she gave a small sound of protest that was silenced by the look he was giving her. Concern marred his brow, caused his mouth to turn down in a small frown, and the love in his hazel eyes was almost too much for her to bear. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and then kissed her instead, shifting his weight so that he could lay her back and settle himself over her instead.

"I'm sorry…" she murmured against his mouth, taking his face in her hands as she felt herself coming down from the possessiveness that had momentarily taken over her. "Han, I'm so sorry…"

But he silenced her with more soft kisses. "It's alright, sweetheart…" His voice rumbled against her jaw, and his hand made a soft trail over her breast and down her stomach until he was stroking gently between her legs, preparing her for him to enter. She let the warmth of his touch wash over her, filling her, and she ached for him to be inside her, joining her. She reached between them, taking him in her hand once again, and gently guided him to her entrance, letting out a small shudder of pleasure as he slid easily inside.

He paused for a moment, now safely ensconsed within her, and kissed her once more - a feather-light teasing of his lips against hers, that never failed to make her press herself tighter against him, shifting her hips as much as she could. Satisfied with her reaction, he began to move, pulling back until he was almost out of her, then slowly pushing back in as far as he could go. Her moan came from deep within her throat and her arms gripped his back, nails digging in lightly. A few more strokes, then he paused again, sitting up and resting back on his heels, pulling her hips with him so he wouldn't slip from inside her.

She watched him, her dark eyes hooded and her lips kiss-swollen, as he undid the fasteners of her casual dress one by one, pushing the fabric gently aside to reveal her to him. His hands followed his eyes as they roamed over her, sliding between the valley between her breasts and over her nipples. With one nipple pinched gently between thumb and forefinger, he made a quick thrust, out and then in. She hissed a small cry, and he repeated the motion. "Feel good?"

"Oh, goddess, yes…"

Within minutes he had her writhing, and he soon introduced a thumb over her sensitive center, rubbing in time with his expert thrusts. With one hand on her breast, one on her clitoris and his penis moving within her, he watched as the tension rose in her body and then finally exploded, arching her off the bed as she cried out his name and a few choice, Alderaani curse words. Her muscles clenching around him and the hoarse sound in her voice caused him to spike as well, and he followed her over the abyss with a few more sharp strokes, gripping her trembling thighs as he emptied himself into her with a coarse grunt.

Normally he would collapse on top of her, or she on top of him, but in this sitting up position all he could do was slump his shoulders slightly and gaze down at her, still sprawled before him, his fingers still playing over the soft skin of her inner thighs seemingly of their own accord, as small shivers of pleasure continued to rip through her.

She pulled herself up onto one elbow, reaching out a forefinger to touch his lips. He kissed it gently and she smiled up at him. "Don't pull out yet," she whispered, and he obeyed, watching now as her finger trailed down his torso to the place where their bodies were still joined. Her eyes were wide with wonder and curiosity, as if she couldn't quite believe what they had just done, even though they had done it before many times, and produced three children from the act.

Han let out a gasping laugh as he felt her muscles deliberately clench, and her hand tickling him softly though the dark hair at his groin. "I know what you're doing, Princess," he growled softly. He took both her hands in his and leaned over her, stretching her arms above her head as he did so. Her smile was coy and gently, and he kissed her softly. "And don't get me wrong, I'm fine with it…but you're gonna have to give me a couple minutes."

She giggled, a sound that he cherished, and he let go of her hands so she could wrap her arms around his neck and draw him closer to her. "I love you so much, nerfherder."

"I love you too, Your Worship."

Leia pressed a kiss to his neck, breathing in the scent of him and feeling his heartbeat slow against her own chest. A sense of peace that always came in the aftermath of their lovemaking began to descend over her, and she let it wrap her in its warmth. After a long moment, he murmured, "You okay?"

Now she could nod honestly. "Better," she admitted.

With a groan he rolled off her and she followed him, feeling oddly empty, and snuggling into his side as his arm came around her protectively. "That's a start." He felt rather than saw a sly smile spread across her mouth.

"You know what would make me even better?"

He captured her hand as it began to trail across his chest, and once again raised it to his mouth so he could kiss it. "Yeah, I know what would," he said. "But you'll just have to wait. The night is still young, Leia."

She sighed. "I guess that's what I get for marrying an old man…"

"Old?" He sat up now, glaring down at her, and choosing to ignore the triumphant grin she wore. "Now, wait just a minute, Your Highnessness, I'll show you who's old…"

His mouth descended on hers, and his hands were suddenly everywhere at once, and as Leia felt her earlier depression lift entirely, she was very glad that the night was, in fact, still young.