Pairing: H/Lu
Rating: R
Series: #1
Spoilers: Set during the flight to Alderaan in "A New Hope", with flashbacks before the movie.
Summary: Sure, Han and Luke first met at Mos Eisley. But it didn't happen *quite* the way the movie would have you believe...
Warnings: I don't use betas. :( Any mistakes are solely my fault and the fault of my *#^&@ spellcheck.

Ben thinks I'm jumpy because I've never been in a ship travelling at lightspeed going across Empire space with a Jedi Knight to rescue a princess before.

Well - I haven't, but that isn't the reason that I'm jumpy, believe me.

I could tell as soon as he started talking about Mos Eisley that he thought I'd never been there before, and I knew that the best thing that I could do was play along. If Ben had any ideas about me, he certainly wasn't saying anything, and I knew that I'd better just keep my mouth shut, too. All of his "little ones" and "boys" were actually kind of endearing - certainly my uncle and aunt had always treated me like a rather backwards child, but the way Ben treats me is just as if I'm young, not an idiot. I like it. I know I shouldn't speak ill of the dead, but -

Maybe it's just better that I don't think about them at all. I mean, there's nothing that I can do, now, except maybe try to make their deaths mean something. It's just easier if I don't think about it.

Coming face to face with him certainly wasn't what I was expecting...

I could tell that he didn't recognize me, and it saved me that I realized it even before his eyes looked right through me. Still, our first 'meeting' had been months ago, and he wasn't exactly in the best shape then for a truly meaningful encounter. I was too relieved to even consider being hurt that it wasn't as memorable to him as it was to me.

After all, I've got a mission now, and I've got to keep my mind on finding and saving the Princess. Anything else is just - well, it's just an extra distraction that I don't need.

It's too bad that I remember all-too-well just how distracting he can be...

Don't get me wrong - it isn't as though I went to Mos Eisley very often, or anything, just every once in a while. I didn't get a night away from the farm to myself very often, and sneaking away without getting caught wasn't something that I wanted to risk more than once or twice a season. My uncle did what he thought was best concerning me, but he just didn't understand - or didn't remember - what it was like to be eighteen and desperate for a taste of any sort of excitement. So every once in a while I'd pluck up my courage, wait until they were asleep, and head in the speeder somewhere I could find someone to talk to.

Or do other things. Hey, I'm eighteen. I lost my virginity a long time ago - almost two years. Girls being rather scarce in these parts, we - my friends and I - had to make do with what we had: each other. I don't suppose it's very original to lose your virginity to your best friend, and I did care about him, but - I guess I just wanted to feel someone else. Someone exciting.

I got a little bit more than I planned on, looking back.

I was headed for the Cantina when it happened. It was pretty busy, the music blaring, people milling around on the street. I didn't have to go in; I could have just stood out there, waiting for something to happen. It always did, especially when the pilots at the Academy were on leave. I was pretty sure that I'd be able to meet up with some of my old friends that night. Or maybe make some new ones.

I'd just reached the doors of the Cantina when it happened. They flew open right in front of me, and before I could move, I was thrown to the ground by a large male body.

I didn't know it at the time, but it was Han Solo.

He landed right on top of me, pushing me down into the dirt. I had the wind knocked out of me, and when I opened my eyes I was stunned to find a grinning, intoxicated, gorgeous man on me. His smile and his eyes barely made up for the fact that he smelled like he'd been living inside a liquor bottle for the past year.

"Sorry, kid," he said. "Small misunderstanding inside."

Something roughly translating as "And stay out!" was shouted from inside the bar. I should have guessed that Han Solo never does anything small.

He rolled off me and lay there while I picked myself up. He wasn't making any effort to stand, and I was just going to let him lie there, but - but I didn't. I thrust a hand down to him. "Come on, get up."

"Why? Nice view from here. Stars. Sky." He leered at me. "You."

I chuckled. "You always this charming, or am I a special case?"

That made his eyes rake up and down my body - I swear I could feel the tracks of that look embed into my skin. "I don't know, kid. You look pretty special to me."

Ah. I wasn't imagining things. Seemed as though this evening was going to be easier than I'd thought. "Get up."

He pulled on my hand, and I almost lost my balance trying to get him to his feet. He was very drunk, but he moved all right - if a little heavily sometimes. "You got a room somewhere?"

He looked at me, that same stupid grin on his face. "I don't know, kid. I should insist on dinner first - "

"Where you can sleep," I said, rolling my eyes. "Alone."

"Yeah, that's what they all say - "

I raised an eyebrow.

" - before they succumb to my charms." He started to walk, so I took that as a good sign. "Did I tell you I'm a pilot?"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yup. Fastest ship in the sector. You'll never see one better - "

I let him ramble on that way, doing most of the talking, while he led me to a small hotel near the docking bays. It wasn't a dive, but it was close.

"This is the place," he said, looking up at the building. He weaved and almost went over backwards. "Come up for a drink? Least I can do, you know, to pay you back."

"Sure."

The man at the front desk gave me a very filthy wink as we passed by. I ignored him. These places were built for one reason and one reason only - somewhere cheap for visiting scoundrels, thieves, smugglers - and pilots, apparently - to bring their 'women'. Or men, as the case may be.

I wasn't exactly there to prove anybody wrong.

I was disappointed when he got out a bottle of brown wine when we made it to his room, but I took the mug that he handed me. It looked, smelled, and tasted vile - like old swamp-water that had been sitting around in a warm place for a few months. I was sure that somewhere in the galaxy it was probably considered a delicacy. I was also sure that I never wanted to find that place.

It offered a hell of a kick, so I sipped it gingerly. The last thing that I wanted to do was pass out here.

He sat down on the bed and I sat near him - not too near, but near. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen." I tried to look believable. I mean, it wasn't a huge lie - I was practically eighteen, and everyone had always told me that I seemed older than my years.

He seemed to buy it, or at least he didn't seem interested in arguing the point. "Want another drink?"

I shook my head. I was really hoping that he wouldn't have any more, either. He wasn't in the greatest shape now - if he drank any more he'd pass out here in front of me.

Seemed like I had two choices - I could either let him drink himself to a stupor and go back and try to find someone else interesting at the Cantina - even though most of the late-night crowd weren't the type I was interested in; most of them were entirely too interested in someone like me, I'd found, and I'd just as soon not fight off a series of hands.

Second choice? Offer him something better than the wine.

I bit my lip. Maybe 'innocent farm-boy' was the way to go. I tried to think unsexy thoughts to make my face as neutral as possible, and said, "Mind if I see your blaster?"

He looked at me, almost spitting out the wine in his mouth. I must have been playing the innocent part well, because he - I swear, I am not making this up - blushed a little and handed the blaster out of his holster.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek not to burst out laughing before I took it. I made a show of looking it over, turning it over in my hands. "Nice."

He nodded. "New style. You won't see many of those around here," he said, pouring some more of the wine into his cup. "Only the - "

I was pointing the blaster at him.

"That's not a toy, kid," he said, just the slightest touch of nerves in his voice.

"I know."

"So maybe you should just hand it over again."

I shook my head. "I don't think so."

I have to give him credit. He didn't panic, didn't try to get the weapon away from me. He just leaned back on his elbows and looked at me. "So, what do you want? Money? 'Cause you're really in the wrong place - "

I shook my head.

"What, then?"

"Take off your clothes."

He stared at me, and then threw back his head and roared with laughter. "You don't have to threaten me, kid," he said, finally. "Just asking would have been fine."

"What do you think I've been doing here for the last hour?" I asked, waving the blaster at him. "Strip."

"Yes, sir," he replied, bemused, and stood up. It took him a while to get undressed, but he finally managed it. I was beginning to have second thoughts about being able to do anything meaningful with him in his condition, but all of my thoughts flew out the window when I got a look at his body. No puppy-fat adolescent, he - he had a man's body, hard and muscular. He stood straight, watching me watch him, and I swear he sobered up a little just seeing the look in my eyes. "Anything else?"

I realized that I was still holding the blaster, although I wasn't pointing it at him anymore, and set it down. "Lie down," I said, standing up myself.

"Whatever you say." He lay back on his elbows again, still giving me that cocky look.

There was something so self-assured about it that made me determined to wipe it off his face for the rest of the night. I didn't waste any time taking my own clothing off, not interested in repeating his striptease. When I was naked, I flew across the bed and landed on top of him, feeling the little 'whuff' of breath as I pressed against him, my hands on his wrists, pushing him flat into the bed.

"Whoa, kid - "

I didn't let him say anything else. We'd already wasted too much time; any more and I'd have to leave so I could get back to the farm before my uncle would notice that I'd gone. I pressed my lips against his, twisting his arms against his sides, holding him down. "Hasn't anyone ever told you you shouldn't let someone you don't know get their hands on your weapon?" I asked him, and then, still holding on to his wrists, ducked my head down his body.

I think he might have tried to answer me, but I soon made it impossible for him to speak. He had a nice cock - thick, half-hard, pressing up invitingly to my mouth. I took the bait.

He pushed up a little when I licked the head, so I took my mouth away. I wanted to tease him a little. I had the advantage over him - he couldn't move, not the way we were lying there, with me still more on him than off - and I was going to keep it as long as I could. Between the surprise that I'd given him and the effects of the wine, I was amazed that he was still in the shape that he was, sexually speaking.

The pressure of his need was beginning to increase against my hands, and I gave in, a little - I took the head of his cock in my mouth, swirling my tongue around the slit. After a minute of this I slid down farther, just barely raking my teeth over the velvet heat of his cock, until I could feel his pubic hair brushing against my nose. He grew to full erection in my mouth, and then I let him go again.

I could hear the little gasp he gave as he left my mouth and the cool air struck his wet flesh, but I didn't pay any attention. I moved my lips down further, to his sac, tonguing and licking it until it, too, was glistening.

I had to let his wrists go to hold his thighs apart with my hands, so I could push his legs against his chest and finally find the part of his body that I needed. He was clean but he had the musky smell and taste of man that I loved, and he writhed as I licked his asshole. I didn't feel any protest in his body, and he wasn't saying anything - as if he could - so I knew he was as good as begging me to fuck him.

I found the lube in the bedside drawer - I think it's replaced by the staff in places like this with more frequency than the sheets - and slicked it over myself. I was so hard just from touching him and rubbing myself against the mattress that I knew it wasn't going to take much to get me off, but I wanted to make it good for him.

I opened him with my thumb, slick with lube, pressing inside. He was tight, but he wasn't resisting, and he didn't try to push me out. I replaced my thumb with two fingers, and then, when I couldn't wait any longer, with my cock.

There is no feeling in the world like the feeling of a man - the tight, hot channel of open flesh that holds a cock like it was a custom-made glove. No feeling like fucking a man, looking him in the eyes, knowing what he is feeling and what he wants, stroking his cock with the same rhythm that you are pushing your cock into him, and kissing him - kissing a man on the mouth, letting him taste himself on your tongue, the rough, musky, dangerous taste of ass, thrusting your tongue inside until it feels as though it will meet your cock somewhere inside of him.

That was the feel of him - that sensory-overload feel. I honestly don't know how I lasted long enough to push into him more than two or three times, but we both did, holding ourselves back, not wanting it to end. I thought I was going to spontaneously combust, I was so hot - we were so hot, the sweat dripping down from me onto him. His skin was flushed with heat, and I knew I was probably the same.

Finally, I couldn't hold back any longer. His hand was flying over his cock, and I plunged in as deep as I could and held there, shaking, my muscles screaming out for me to relax as I finally came, my shouts echoing around the room. I was incoherent, I was flying - it felt like I was melting into his body. He was coming and I could feel it, his ass tightening around my cock.
It was unreal.

I was still gasping for breath when I opened my eyes. He was looking at me, still not speaking. I was going to say something, and then he grasped the back of my head with two hands - I was terrified that he was going to crush my skull, but he kissed me, making it last forever, breathing for me.

I woke up before him. It took me a minute to realize where I was, and then full panic set in. If the sun was up, I was dead. I crept to the window and slit open the blinds.

Still dark.

I let out a breath so huge I thought my lungs would collapse. If I left now and pushed my speeder as fast as it could go, I might live to see another day.

He was asleep on the bed. He'd turned over when I got up, cuddling into the space where I'd been, seeking warmth. I pulled the thin blanket up over him and looked around for my clothes.

I considered waking him up before I left, but I realized that there was no point. If he was a pilot, chances were that he'd be flying all over the galaxy, with someone in every port waiting for him. I didn't want to add my name to that list, especially if it could be months, years before I'd see him again. Chances were, I'd never see him again.

I left the room not even knowing his name. It was better that way.

And now - he doesn't remember me. I'm really trying to let my relief overcome my disappointment over that fact.

But really - how awkward would that have been, if he'd taken one look at me and let that lascivious grin of his jump-start his mouth, right in front of Ben? No, that wasn't something that I needed. This way, we can be friends, starting from scratch. It's better this way, really.

"Hey, kid."

I tried to look annoyed. Ben calling me 'kid' was okay, but from him -

He sat down.

"Shouldn't you be flying this thing?"

"Chewie's all right without me. Where's the old man?"

"With Threepio and Artoo, trying to find out if there's any more information stored in him."

He nodded at me, and then cocked his head. He opened his mouth, paused, and then said, "Haven't we met somewhere?"

The breath caught in my chest, and I coughed.

He slapped me on the back. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"So, what about it? You look really familiar to me - "

"No, I don't think so," I said, quickly.

He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Yeah, I guess I'd remember."

I could feel the blush creeping up into my cheeks, and stood. No time like the present to practice with the lightsaber, get my mind off of him -

But he sat there, watching me, not making any cracks this time. I tried to concentrate on the force, closing my eyes so I wouldn't see the remote, but every time I did all I could see was Han - naked, underneath me, glistening with sweat and come. I lashed out with the 'saber and felt a hand on my wrist.

"Easy there, kid. I'd like the 'Falcon in the same number of parts when you get off as it was when you got on, if you don't mind."

"Sorry," I said, panting. He was too near, and he wasn't letting me go.

All of a sudden, something changed in his eyes, and he gripped my wrist even more tightly, staring at the connection of his hand on my arm. He looked like he wanted to say something - or do something -

And then Ben walked in. "Shouldn't we be there soon?"

Han waited a beat, and then let me go. "Yeah," he said to Ben, and headed for the cockpit.

I let myself start breathing again, and powered off the 'saber. I followed Han's footsteps, Ben on my heels.

I swear I could feel his eyes on the back of my head the entire way.

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