Title: Pillow Talk
Characters/Pairings: Han/Leia, Obi/Siri, Bail/Breha, Obi/Ani, Corran/Mirax
Summary: Five couples. Five post-sex situations.
Rating: PG for references, but there's nothing very graphic.
Exhausted and loved, Leia wraps her arms tighter around the pillow, inhaling deeply. Han's scent is on everything in the Falcon's cabin. She burrows deeper into the mattress.
"You know what I noticed about you, when you ain't wearin' any clothes?"
The question catches her off-guard but she flops over onto her back. She takes a moment to answer.
"What?"
He props himself up on one elbow, heart still racing. "You don't look at me in the eye when you smile."
Leia's blush reaches all the way to the top of her breasts. There's even a bit of a snort as she digs her entire face back into the pillow.
"That sounds like something I'd do," she says, voice muffled. Laughter flows from both of them.
His rough fingers play over the expanse of her cool, creamy back. "Yeah? Well, what's with that?" Han's lips find their way toward the ticklish spot at the base of her neck. Her head snaps back and the laughter turns into shrieks.
She grits out a rude name and throws the rest of their pillows at him. Her face aches with joy.
Her eyes eventually settle on the bite marks on Han's shoulder. Leia shyly looks away.
And smiles.
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"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"
"Shut up, Oafy."
"Maybe if I pull on your--"
"I told you to shut up!"
"I just thought--"
Siri's voice breaks into sobs. Obi-Wan puts a hand on her shoulder, but that only makes it worse, and she jerks from his touch.
"Get the kriff out!" Still naked, she gathers his Jedi tunics into a bundle and tosses them out into the living room. His jaw drops in shock. He didn't know this would be a disaster.
Adi walks into their apartment and sees Kenobi pulling on his pants to the soundtrack of her fifteen-year-old Padawan's crying fit. She smacks Obi-Wan clear across the face. He nods in reply.
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Bail closes his eyes as Breha says something over the commlink, and he thinks about her brightly-painted toenails curling under the warm comforter in their bedroom.
"And you?" On Alderaan, it's midday. The sunlight is probably making her tangled and mussed hair glow like a halo.
He's sleepy and blinks. "Mmm. What, dear?"
"Are you feeling better?"
Bail smiles, his long, relaxed sigh coming through her side of the comm as one long line of static. "Yes. Very much so." He's glad the Aldera Commerce Committee canceled their 13:00 meeting with Breha.
"Good. Well, maybe I should let you get back to sleep," her playful voice teases.
Morning on Coruscant won't come for two more lonely hours. He presses the comm closer to his ear. (It's never close enough.)
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There's always an alarm, there's always a siren.
Obi-Wan's pants are back around his slim waist before the sounds even register in Anakin's blissed mind. There are battle droids coming around the block--
His blue blade hums to life and he spins in one beautiful swift movement, taking down the three patrol clankers. The toned muscles move in swift arcs to reduce the droids to rubble. Obi-Wan turns back around to the sound of one man clapping.
"Please pull your underthings back on, Anakin," he frowns. A breeze blows their way. Anakin just stretches and cracks his joints.
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Lovemaking didn't make them forget the sight--
The cool night air doesn't abate Corran's nausea. Our boy. Our boy. From their balcony, he can still see Mirax's nude form, curled into herself, eyes unblinking.
Her soul is drained. Mirax wants to say the words to bring him back to bed, but she's nearly paralyzed. There are 512 speckles of texture on their ceiling. She's counted. Sometimes there are more. Sometimes the numbers warble.
Another glance and she sees that her husband has sunk to his knees. She leaps from bed. The fog lifts.
"Corran?"
He leans back, then straightens himself up. Wipes his eyes as if nothing's wrong. Mirax leads him back underneath the haven of their sheets.
Their child has been encased in carbonite and plans are already in motion. Friends have called. Corran won't be told. Mirax will stop feeling so damn sorry for herself. She'll take care of it; she'll fix it; she'll keep them all from cracking.
That's what Corellian mothers do.
AND THEN![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
prix_etoile TOLD ME TO WRITE A STORY ABOUT WES JANSON, INYRI FORGE & THEIR KID MEETING SOME MERBIWANS
Cal Janson pointed excitedly as he sat perched upon his father's shoulders. "Dad, I like that one! The one with all the eyeliner!"
Wes tilted his head, looking up at the eight-year-old. "The glam-rock Merbiwan? Yeah?"
"Yeaaaaahh," Cal eagerly nodded. "It's astral. It's my faaaavorite."
Inyri shuddered. Merbiwans creeped her out. Their appearance was bad enough, but seeing a whole school of half-Jedi, half-fish in captivity in the New Republic Zoo was even weirder than seeing one on the Holonet.
"Mom! Which ones do you like?"
She adjusted her dark glasses and crossed her arms. "Ehm. I don't know, Cal. Whichever ones you like."
Her son howled in protest. "That's cheating!" Cal insisted. At the sound, the Merbiwans were shocked. Their eyes widened in fear and they dropped their tea and crumpets into their water habitat.
"Definitely cheating," Wes agreed.
Inyri rolled her eyes and took a death stick out of her purse. "I don't have a favorite, then. They're all kriffing freaky as hell."
One of the Merbiwans, a gothic lolita man-princess, stared at her sadly. His pearl-encrusted tiara shimmered in the sunlight. His ginger beard wobbled with threats of tears.
"Mom," Cal whispered, "You hurt his feelings."
"Sweetheart," Inyri grumbled, "It's just an animal. It doesn't care what I say."
Cal looked devastated, but not as much as the Merbiwan. His ample breasts (which are what measure a Merbiwan's level of happiness) drooped nearly to his bellybutton. Cal saw and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. A crowd of tourists noticed, too, and were glaring at the trio.
"Look what you did!" Wes hissed under his breath, glancing sideways.
Inyri sputtered for a response. "I... um...."
She groaned and walked closer to the glass separating her from the scaly, majestic creatures. "I'm sorry," she offered, still keeping her hands inside her pockets. "You're... beautiful. I wish I could pull off glitter eyeshadow like you." With every word, she wanted to just crawl into a hole and die. But the Merbiwan's breasts started to perk up, and the crowd cheered.
"Thanks, Mom," Cal smiled warmly.
Inyri just backed away from the tank. "Whatever. Don't mention it. Please." The Merbiwan blew her a kiss of gratitude, his lacy bikini top bobbing with thankfulness.
"Let's-- let's just go to the gift shop, please," Inyri begged, disturbed. "I'll buy you two whatever you want."
Their faces lit up with joy. Cal chose a plush jungle-explorer Merbiwan doll (complete with Indiana Jones' head for nipple censor bars). Wes chose an Ewok Merbiwan doll. Because Ewok Merbiwans definitely exist.
Characters/Pairings: Han/Leia, Obi/Siri, Bail/Breha, Obi/Ani, Corran/Mirax
Summary: Five couples. Five post-sex situations.
Rating: PG for references, but there's nothing very graphic.
Exhausted and loved, Leia wraps her arms tighter around the pillow, inhaling deeply. Han's scent is on everything in the Falcon's cabin. She burrows deeper into the mattress.
"You know what I noticed about you, when you ain't wearin' any clothes?"
The question catches her off-guard but she flops over onto her back. She takes a moment to answer.
"What?"
He props himself up on one elbow, heart still racing. "You don't look at me in the eye when you smile."
Leia's blush reaches all the way to the top of her breasts. There's even a bit of a snort as she digs her entire face back into the pillow.
"That sounds like something I'd do," she says, voice muffled. Laughter flows from both of them.
His rough fingers play over the expanse of her cool, creamy back. "Yeah? Well, what's with that?" Han's lips find their way toward the ticklish spot at the base of her neck. Her head snaps back and the laughter turns into shrieks.
She grits out a rude name and throws the rest of their pillows at him. Her face aches with joy.
Her eyes eventually settle on the bite marks on Han's shoulder. Leia shyly looks away.
And smiles.
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"
"Shut up, Oafy."
"Maybe if I pull on your--"
"I told you to shut up!"
"I just thought--"
Siri's voice breaks into sobs. Obi-Wan puts a hand on her shoulder, but that only makes it worse, and she jerks from his touch.
"Get the kriff out!" Still naked, she gathers his Jedi tunics into a bundle and tosses them out into the living room. His jaw drops in shock. He didn't know this would be a disaster.
Adi walks into their apartment and sees Kenobi pulling on his pants to the soundtrack of her fifteen-year-old Padawan's crying fit. She smacks Obi-Wan clear across the face. He nods in reply.
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Bail closes his eyes as Breha says something over the commlink, and he thinks about her brightly-painted toenails curling under the warm comforter in their bedroom.
"And you?" On Alderaan, it's midday. The sunlight is probably making her tangled and mussed hair glow like a halo.
He's sleepy and blinks. "Mmm. What, dear?"
"Are you feeling better?"
Bail smiles, his long, relaxed sigh coming through her side of the comm as one long line of static. "Yes. Very much so." He's glad the Aldera Commerce Committee canceled their 13:00 meeting with Breha.
"Good. Well, maybe I should let you get back to sleep," her playful voice teases.
Morning on Coruscant won't come for two more lonely hours. He presses the comm closer to his ear. (It's never close enough.)
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
There's always an alarm, there's always a siren.
Obi-Wan's pants are back around his slim waist before the sounds even register in Anakin's blissed mind. There are battle droids coming around the block--
His blue blade hums to life and he spins in one beautiful swift movement, taking down the three patrol clankers. The toned muscles move in swift arcs to reduce the droids to rubble. Obi-Wan turns back around to the sound of one man clapping.
"Please pull your underthings back on, Anakin," he frowns. A breeze blows their way. Anakin just stretches and cracks his joints.
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Lovemaking didn't make them forget the sight--
The cool night air doesn't abate Corran's nausea. Our boy. Our boy. From their balcony, he can still see Mirax's nude form, curled into herself, eyes unblinking.
Her soul is drained. Mirax wants to say the words to bring him back to bed, but she's nearly paralyzed. There are 512 speckles of texture on their ceiling. She's counted. Sometimes there are more. Sometimes the numbers warble.
Another glance and she sees that her husband has sunk to his knees. She leaps from bed. The fog lifts.
"Corran?"
He leans back, then straightens himself up. Wipes his eyes as if nothing's wrong. Mirax leads him back underneath the haven of their sheets.
Their child has been encased in carbonite and plans are already in motion. Friends have called. Corran won't be told. Mirax will stop feeling so damn sorry for herself. She'll take care of it; she'll fix it; she'll keep them all from cracking.
That's what Corellian mothers do.
AND THEN
prix_etoile TOLD ME TO WRITE A STORY ABOUT WES JANSON, INYRI FORGE & THEIR KID MEETING SOME MERBIWANSCal Janson pointed excitedly as he sat perched upon his father's shoulders. "Dad, I like that one! The one with all the eyeliner!"
Wes tilted his head, looking up at the eight-year-old. "The glam-rock Merbiwan? Yeah?"
"Yeaaaaahh," Cal eagerly nodded. "It's astral. It's my faaaavorite."
Inyri shuddered. Merbiwans creeped her out. Their appearance was bad enough, but seeing a whole school of half-Jedi, half-fish in captivity in the New Republic Zoo was even weirder than seeing one on the Holonet.
"Mom! Which ones do you like?"
She adjusted her dark glasses and crossed her arms. "Ehm. I don't know, Cal. Whichever ones you like."
Her son howled in protest. "That's cheating!" Cal insisted. At the sound, the Merbiwans were shocked. Their eyes widened in fear and they dropped their tea and crumpets into their water habitat.
"Definitely cheating," Wes agreed.
Inyri rolled her eyes and took a death stick out of her purse. "I don't have a favorite, then. They're all kriffing freaky as hell."
One of the Merbiwans, a gothic lolita man-princess, stared at her sadly. His pearl-encrusted tiara shimmered in the sunlight. His ginger beard wobbled with threats of tears.
"Mom," Cal whispered, "You hurt his feelings."
"Sweetheart," Inyri grumbled, "It's just an animal. It doesn't care what I say."
Cal looked devastated, but not as much as the Merbiwan. His ample breasts (which are what measure a Merbiwan's level of happiness) drooped nearly to his bellybutton. Cal saw and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. A crowd of tourists noticed, too, and were glaring at the trio.
"Look what you did!" Wes hissed under his breath, glancing sideways.
Inyri sputtered for a response. "I... um...."
She groaned and walked closer to the glass separating her from the scaly, majestic creatures. "I'm sorry," she offered, still keeping her hands inside her pockets. "You're... beautiful. I wish I could pull off glitter eyeshadow like you." With every word, she wanted to just crawl into a hole and die. But the Merbiwan's breasts started to perk up, and the crowd cheered.
"Thanks, Mom," Cal smiled warmly.
Inyri just backed away from the tank. "Whatever. Don't mention it. Please." The Merbiwan blew her a kiss of gratitude, his lacy bikini top bobbing with thankfulness.
"Let's-- let's just go to the gift shop, please," Inyri begged, disturbed. "I'll buy you two whatever you want."
Their faces lit up with joy. Cal chose a plush jungle-explorer Merbiwan doll (complete with Indiana Jones' head for nipple censor bars). Wes chose an Ewok Merbiwan doll. Because Ewok Merbiwans definitely exist.
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