a/n: just a little harmless flirting and fun

"Whore"

Boredom, she supposed, led to Han rifling through her things as if the few possessions she had were the most fascinating things in the world. Gettin' to know each other, he called it, grabbing her rucksack and upending its contents - only after the expression on her face assured him her protests were lazy, and she really didn't mind at all - you can go through my trunk next, he promised.

Stretched out languidly on her back on his bunk, she pursed her lips, twisting a strand of hair around her index finger.

"You think I want to go through your trunk?" she challenged.

"Yeah, what woman doesn't wanna poke through the personal belonging's of the guy she's sleepin' with?"

"A smart one," Leia retorted.

"Huh, may have a point, if I was interestin'," Han snorted, examining the mess he'd just made on the floor. His back against the spare bunk, he sprawled his legs out and kept all of her things entrapped between his knees, his gaze critical. "All you're gonna find is that I ain't actually that charming or cool," he informed her.

"Well, I hardly need to waste time confirming what I already know," she quipped.

"Better bite that tongue, Sweetheart, 'fore someone bites it for you."

She darted her tongue between her teeth, caught it, and wiggled it at him temptingly. He grinned, shaking his head, and reached down to rummage - Leia had precious few possessions as it were; most of her things were not hers, but things that had been issued to her, or brought to her, after her home's destruction. The knapsack was all she'd grabbed in the mad dash to get off of Hoth and away from the Empire.

Inquiring scoundrels wanted to know what, among so little, a Princess considered prized.

There were various access cards and identification cards. Money. Reader chips for her holopad. A change of outfit - good thing, since otherwise she'd be in her snowsuit this entire trip. Or would have, if Han hadn't managed to get her out of it a week in - and then convince her it was really only necessary to wear his shirt, the rest of the way.

He grabbed a silver canister and tossed it up, listening to the contents.

"What's in here?"

"Tea."

He grunted and set it back down.

"How'd you just have this bag ready, anyway?" he asked.

"It's a go bag."

"A what bag?"

She turned her head to watch him, tracing her finger along her collarbone. She lifted one leg, and then crossed the other at an angle over it, ankle against her hip, creating a triangle with her legs.

"Go bag," she drew out slowly. "I learned to keep one with me in my first year with the Rebellion, when I was still on Coruscant," she explained. "In case I had to evacuate immediately."

"Smart," he said.

"I do okay," she retorted seriously.

Han smirked. He picked up a sleek, tubular container that looked like it held spectacles and popped it open, tipping the contents into his hand. He frowned at the unobtrusive pink cylinder he was holding, holding it up. Peering under it, he noticed the base of it could be turned.

"Flashlight?" he asked, twisting the circle at the bottom.

The device did not light up. It buzzed. In fact, it hummed, happily. He raised his eyebrows.

"Nope," Leia said smoothly.

Han started laughing, hastily turning it off. He made a show of neatly closing it back in its container.

"You ought to wash that, after touching it with your filthy hands," she admonished.

"I've touched you with my filthy hands."

She turned up her nose primly, as Han set the item aside. He laughed again.

"That's in your go bag?" he asked incredulously. "In a bag you packed in case you have to evacuate and run for your life- "

"Oh, and I'm just not supposed to have an orgasm while I'm on the lam?" she interrupted, offended.

"You have hands," Han reminded her.

"Yes, and an aversion to developing carpal tunnel."

Han gave her a gleeful look.

"Just how often do you use that thing, Your Highness?"

"Less, this past week," she answered.

"Less?" Han repeated. "Less, she says - just less," he shook his head. "'M just not enough for you, eh?" he drawled. He picked it back up and mimed throwing it to her. "You wanna get yourself off real quick, while I finish up here?"

"No thanks, I'll wait," she said sweetly.

He smirked, grabbing a small cosmetics bag. He was not surprised to find it almost empty; Leia wore little make-up. He sifted through black eyeliner, a touch of blush, a thin reed for mascara, and clear lip balm - and then noticed a blood red lipstick capsule in the bottom of the bag. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands, mildly curious. He uncapped it and looked at the aggressive, ruby brightness of the colour, taken aback. Squinting, he read the gold embossed little label on the side, and shot her a piercing look.

"Whore?" he read aloud, quoting the lipstick's name.

Leia rolled her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Well, that's not my favorite pet name," she said pointedly.

He held up the lipstick dramatically.

"Ahh," she sighed.

"It's called whore?" he demanded.

"Delighted to hear you can read."

Han stared at her expectantly.

"Do you wear this on your lips?" he asked skeptically - there was just no part of him that could imagine Leia, Princess Leia, purchasing, and then painting on her mouth, a lipstick this colour red - and christened 'whore' to boot.

"No, every morning, I draw a little heart on my ass and doodle your initials in it."

"What?!" Han sputtered.

"Of course I wear it on my lips, Han."

He put a hand to his chest dramatically.

"Well, c'mere, I wanna put my initials on your ass," he joked.

"There'll be time for that," she said idly.

"You know, you've been hidin' a hell of a personality under all that hair and scowling, Princess."

She turned her head and smiled at him radiantly. He waved the lipstick.

"Why do you have this?"

She rolled onto her side, hesitating. Pursing her lips, she tilted her head at it, and smiled a little ruefully.

"When I was a new senator, an opponent called me a little rebel whore in front of a fairly elite committee," she explained. "So, I bought that. And I wore it when I had to deal with that guy, specifically."

"Someone called you a whore?" Han asked.

"Maybe I was a whore," Leia fired back, arching a brow.

Han blinked at her.

"Well, nothin' wrong with that," he said seriously. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Why the hell would you tell me I was your first if you - "

"You were," Leia interrupted.

Han blinked at her again.

"What's going on?" he muttered.

She smirked.

"You can be a virgin and a whore."

"I'm listenin'," Han said seriously, leaning forward.

She shrugged.

"Whore's just a mindset that terrifies men. It's a costume. Whores don't exist. It's a social construct."

Han tilted his head at her, and then recapped the lipstick with deliberate movements, so it made a neat little click. He humbly put a hand to his chest and leaned forward, presenting it to her with a bow of his head, and a flourish.

She accepted it, pressing it to her lips with a little kiss.

"I found there was very little that scared men more than the idea that they didn't have the sexual power. It never mattered if that power was an illusion."

He gave her a slow, admiring grin.

"Well," he said huskily. "I wouldn't mind seein' you in that lipstick, Leia."

She rolled it deftly between her fingers, tiling her head back and forth, and then tucked it between her teeth and got off the bunk, dropping gracefully to her hands and knees on the floor. She crawled towards him, nudging her personal items out of the way as she sashayed closer, until her face was right up in his. She perched on her knees, and delicately took the lipstick from between her teeth, flicking of the cap and twisting it up. She raised her eyebrows at him silently, and he nodded.

"You want to try it on?" she asked innocently.

Han shrugged, blowing her a cheep, air kiss.

"Don't think it's my colour," he quipped, watching her draw a thin, perfect layer across her lips, even without a mirror.

She recapped it, businesslike, and tossed the tube aside, shaking her head slowly. She drew her finger down his chest to his belt, and then leaned forward to kiss his throat, her hand working the buttons of his shirt open and kissing languidly down his chest.

"I don't mean on your lips," she murmured, slowly shifting her position as she moved lower, her kisses lingering, hotter, and softer, the closer she got to his hips.

Han slid his hand into her hair with a soft groan, and she draped one of her legs over his, getting comfortable - she really had been living vicariously through that lipstick for entirely too long.

this is for that person who got mad at me for Leia giving blowjobs xoxo

alexandra
story #379