Title: Such a Lovely Thing
Word Count: 970
Summary: Fett runs into Solo at the Mos Eisley cantina. Go summary!
Rating: Uh, PG 13?
Note: Nothing too offensive, just a graphic kiss. Oh! And you so have to download Devotchka's "Such a Lovely Thing" which inspired this piece. You can find it here: http://www.devotchka.net/mp3s.html
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or Devotchka, because I'm a failure at life :)
“Never seen you here before, stranger.” A gruff and all-to-familiar voice crooned.
Boba Fett’s spine locked, the hairs on his neck slowly stood, and his breath stopped short in his throat. He didn’t need to turn in order to know the voice belonged to Han Solo. The bounty hunter immediately began to panic. He had come to the Mos Eisley cantina for a night to himself. Shedding his armor, he had come to escape the notoriety it carried. Never had he expected to find his most dangerous prey lurking here, especially when his sources had informed him Solo was stationed on Ord Mantell for the next month.
But what did it matter? Unmasked, Han did not know Fett.
Exhaling slowly and carefully choosing his words, Fett replied, “I’m just visiting.”
“What part of the galaxy are you from then, visitor.” Han took a seat next to the agitated hunter and threw him a sideways smirk.
”Drall. Near the Boiling Seas.” The response came easily.
“What are you on Tatooine for?”
Fett scowled. “Do you always ask this many questions?”
“Sorry friend. The name’s Han Solo.” He offered his hand in friendship. Hesitating, Boba eventually returned the gesture. The smuggler’s hands were rough, his grip strong and confident.
Han pulled Boba up to his feet and placed an arm over his shoulders. He then threw his arm around the bounty hunter’s waist, pulling their bodies together.
”What are you-“ Fett began, but was cut off by Solo who pressed a gentle finger to his lips.
Han then tipped his hand at the house band, who quickly changed their tune from a slow theme to a more frenzied melody. Before Boba knew what to do, Han was pulling him around the open floor, guiding him in circles. The beat of the music and the beat of his own heat burned through the bounty hunter’s body. He threw his arms around Han's neck, letting go of all his inhibitions. There was no past. There was no future. There was only the present. And the music.
The room quickly flew away from Boba’s vision. The drunken clientele were nothing but blurs of colour and motion. It didn’t take long for him to fall into the rhythm of Han’s steps. He let himself be guided around the floor, swaying as he moved. The heat and the cadence of the music were intoxicating. Boba’s head swam in a thrilling mix of fear and wonderment. Here he was, wrapped in the arms of his prey. At any moment, he could easily attack the other man and finally claim his victory. But the sensation! The aroma of the smuggler’s cologne was strong and musky. It smelled of fortitude.
It soon became obvious that the hunter and the smuggler weren’t the only two dancing. The room began to close in once more. The temperature continued to rise, and Boba began to feel more and more lost. He felt like his mind and soul had left his body. All he could feel was immense heat and Solo’s body pressed tightly against his own. Why wasn’t he seizing the moment? This was his chance! His mind commanded him to strike, but his body was completely gone.
He was so gone he almost didn’t feel Solo drag him away from the floor. He glanced wildly around, startled when he realized he was outside. Solo pulled him around the side of the Cantina, away from the road. Away from the noise.
“Han.” Fett’s voice came out in a pleading whisper.
There was no time lost nor words spoken. The smuggler threw Fett’s body haphazardly against the closest wall and brought their mouths together in a forceful kiss. Boba reached his hand up and grasped the back of Han’s head. Solo pressed his tongue to Fett’s lips, who responded in kind by parting them. The two kissed feverishly. Fett entwined his fingers in Han’s long hair. Solo pulled back, breaking the kiss and starring deep into the dark eyes in front of him.
“You are…gorgeous.” Han smirked.
Boba’s knees began to tremble and he feared he would fall to the ground at any moment if it were not for Solo’s body pinning him to the wall. Again, Solo leaned to kiss Boba, but this time, he ran his tongue along the bounty hunter’s bottom lip. Squirming with anticipation, Boba let out a small moan, which brought a smile to his tormenter’s face. Their next kiss was needier, and when Han tried to break it, Boba grasped the other’s lip in his teeth. Again and again, they kissed passionately; wildly. Fett worried he could no longer take the heat. Han seemed to read his mind.
He always did.
The next day, Boba Fett stalked into the Mos Eisley cantina, this time fully clad in his Mandalorian armor. Solo sat at the bar, waiting for him. Fett was the first to pull his gun. His shot grazed Solo’s shoulder, singing the skin. The smuggler cried out and jumped to his feet. He shot back, missing widely, and began to run. They played cat and mouse throughout the cantina, none of their shots hitting. That would ruin the fun.
They ran into one the docking bays and Fett lost track of Solo. As he crept through the shadows, the only thing on his mind was the promise of digging his fingers into the fresh wound on Solo’s shoulder. Tonight they would play the game differently. Tonight, Fett would be lost and Solo would help him find his way back to his ship.
In the end, they would both leave. They always did. That’s what made the game so fun. It was meaningless pleasure. The mutual understanding of this and the resulting exploration was why Fett loved Solo. But he would never admit this.
That would end the game.