time for a snippet-o-rama because i am feeling gross that i can’t finish anything yay!
1) Yavin4Some (this title is funnier if you know, which you don’t, that I have several documents in my giant Scrivener Thing O Doom called, respectively, “Yavin4″, “Yavin4_2″, and “Yavin4_again”)
Shara pats the bed next to herself. “Lie down here, baby,” she says to Kes, “and let Han suck your dick, he’d like that for an appetizer, wouldn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Han says; there’s no point being indirect.
“Okay,” Kes says, with a little laugh, trailing his fingers down from Han’s jaw. “You could take your shirt off, though, maybe.”
“Maybe,” Han says, and skims out of the offending garment, and sheds his trousers while he’s at it. Kes lies down next to Shara, and Shara leans over and kisses him, and Leia’s staring glassily at them. Han climbs onto the bed, and runs a hand up the outside of Kes’s thigh; Kes bends his knee a little in response, pushing his body up toward Han like an offering.
Shara lets go of his mouth, and murmurs, “Now Kes, I want you to do something for me, okay?”
“Okay,” Kes says, gazing at her like she’s his whole sky.
“Don’t come until I say so,” she says, and Kes shivers a little, and he’s all the way hard now, and Han doesn’t want to just grab him while he’s distracted so he waits.
“Okay,” Kes whispers.
“Why not?” Leia asks, which saves Han the trouble.
“Because,” Shara says, looking at Leia, and once she breaks the eye contact it’s like Kes is freed and can look at Han. He grins kind of apologetically. “Kes is kind of a one-and-done kinda guy, and there are an awful lot of things I want him to do first.”
“I never let Shara do this to me,” Kes says, and he shifts a little, cocks one leg up to slide it against Han’s flank, pulling him in without trapping him. “Because then it would be done too quick. Go easy on me?”
“If I gotta,” Han grumbles, but Kes is even hotter turned-on like this, his skin flushed and his eyes sparkling and stars, he’s young, he’s really young, he’s like twenty-four and looks immortal and this is what was underneath the terrifying stoic badass grizzled exterior he was projecting the whole time in the Pathfinders, that was all a lie and this is the truth. Kes’s Pathfinder grin was a vicious baring of teeth: his real grin is a sweet perfect thing that starts shy and turns dazzling, and he deploys it now.
“I can’t do you justice,” Kes says, “and do them justice too, you know?”
“Fair point,” Han says, and emboldened by the dazzling flash of teeth in Kes’s smile, he pulls Kes’s underwear down and off him, and now Kes is the first one naked.
He’s gorgeous, of course, and Leia makes a fervent little noise, then leans in and kisses Kes. Han can’t really see, at this angle, but he can see the way Kes’s dick jumps. Han has to touch it, wraps his hand around it, and it’s hot and thick and heavy in his hand. Kes groans, and Leia shifts so now Han can see them, can watch his wife kissing an incredibly hot guy whose dick he’s about to suck.
It’s hot, because when Han’s kissing her he can’t see how she looks, and she’s so into it, she’s got her eyes rolled back and shut, she’s breathing hard and pink in the cheeks and Shara’s hands are on her ribs, Shara’s watching, eyes glittering, and Han starts jacking Kes’s dick, slow and firm, watching all the muscles in Kes’s abdomen tense as he arches his back into it a little.
Han can’t stand it, he has to get his mouth on him.
2) Cassian Andor’s As-Yet Untitled Adventures With Kes’s Estranged Father: and this excerpt is kind of spoilery but I still don’t know if I’ll even publish the story, it’s another one that’s just a labor of love that I don’t expect will have a wide audience, so:
“You can’t get me out,” Kana said. “You can’t– not this way. I can’t– I can’t run any farther.”
Molo gritted his teeth. “We’ll carry you out,” he said. He unholstered his blaster and pointed it at the lock.
“No,” Kana said. “No! Molo, don’t do that.”
“It’s the only way,” he said.
“It won’t work,” she said, “and then they’ll know you’re here.”
“It will work,” Molo said.
“Listen,” Kana said, pushing her fingers through the mesh to put them over the lock and spoil Molo’s shot. “Listen to me, Untar.”
“Kana, move,” Molo said.
“If you don’t listen to me,” she said, “and you do this, and they catch you, and they catch the boy too, then this mission fails and they’ll get what they want out of you or me or him, they’re trying to catch us alive so they can torture information out of us, you know this.”
There was a long pause, and finally Molo lowered the blaster. “I know,” he said.
“So send Cassian away now,” she said. “Send him up. If I can be gotten out, you can do it. Get him and the chip out of here.”
Molo chewed his lip, and looked over at Cassian. “All right,” he said. “Climb, and I’ll meet you at your ship.” He had the coordinates, he knew where it was; Cassian squashed down the need to double-check.
He began climbing obediently, but he could still hear. “Next,” Kana said, “I’ll let you take one shot with that blaster at that lock, but if that doesn’t do it, you need to act fast, all right, Molo? The next shot has to be for me. You can’t let them take me alive.”
“Don’t ask me to do that,” Molo said, sounding pained, and Cassian paused, looking back.
“You know there’s no choice,” Kana said fiercely, voice shaking. “You need to take that shot right away, Molo. If that lock doesn’t break, you need to kill me right away.”
“I can’t,” Molo said.
“Of course you can,” Kana said, and she sounded angry. “You know I don’t have a weapon! I can’t do it myself! You can’t let them have me!”
Molo glanced up, and Cassian hastily began climbing again, so he didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. His heart was racing, but he had the forethought to rig Molo’s climbing rope so he could help pull him up in a hurry.
After a moment, he heard a blaster shot.
Then a second blaster shot.
Then a third.
3) The untitled modern A/U with Bodhi and Cassian (actually the google doc is called “BODE” because I thought that was hilarious:
“Well,” Chirrut said. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but I’m blind, so my categories are a little different.”
“Oh, you’re blind,” Bodhi said. “I wasn’t sure, I thought maybe you just hated sunglasses.” He kept his tone noncommittal, but Chirrut grinned at him.
“Baze hates it when I make jokes about that,” he said. “He’s a tender soul, you know. I have to bait him to keep him tough. It’s a crucial component of our relationship.”
“He, he looks very, yes, tender is what I would say,” Bodhi said. “Out of all the adjectives in the English language that’s what I’d pick, for him.”
“He has a very tender heart,” Chirrut said. “Things move him very deeply. Sometimes I wish I could protect him from the harshness of the world, but that’s not my role.” They reached the top of the stairs, and Chirrut reached out and put his hand against Bodhi’s chest, feeling for his shoulder so he could grab his arm. Normally Bodhi wouldn’t like being touched like that, but Chirrut was so graceful about it that he just let it happen. “Do you have time to stop in for a cup of tea? Baze is traveling for work and he made me promise I’d have a real conversation in person with someone before he came back.”
“Sure,” Bodhi said, “I’d love to.”
People didn’t drink tea around here, not the way he’d grown up doing. They’d bring you a cup of lukewarm water and a box of teabags in paper wrappings yellowed with age, and never any milk or sugar, and like half the time the teabags were all weird herbal flavors without caffeine. Bodhi had started drinking coffee out of sheer self-defense. It hadn’t been an easy transition but at least he’d managed to intensify his caffeine addiction to disgusting levels.
Promisingly, Chirrut had an electric kettle. His apartment looked much like Bodhi’s, in layout at least, but it was clearly long-occupied; the walls were painted, there was all kinds of art on the wall, the furniture was carefully arranged. “Oh, there’s a light switch on the wall to the left,” Chirrut said. “I don’t know if it’s too dim in here; adjust the lighting to your preference, because of course I don’t care.”
“The sun is going down,” Bodhi said, and switched the light on, and with the light on he could see that there was a carpet in the middle of the sitting room floor, brightly-colored, extending just a little ways past the edges of the coffee table. Chirrut walked outdoors with a stick, not to lean on but to sweep for obstacles, but he’d set it aside when he came inside. Now Bodhi could see that there were a lot of little carpets, here and there, and clearly they were partly decorative and partly functional as soft navigation aids for Chirrut, who would be able to feel them with his feet and know where he was precisely in the room.
But the telling detail, Bodhi thought, was that they were all different, clearly not all acquired at the same time, and yet all complementary, in harmony with the colors and designs of the other things in the room. Someone with an eye for design had furnished this whole place to be not only as beautiful as a cheap apartment in a cruddy building could be, but also as comfortable as possible for a blind man.
A lot of the art on the walls was textile, too– soft things that you could brush your fingers against without dislodging them like you would a wooden or metal picture frame. It was all designed to be bumped into.