bonsoir-oiseau

[bonsoir-oiseau]

New Kid in Town: Chapter 2

AO3 Link: New Kid in Town - Chapter 2

Pairing: Han Solo/Luke Skywalker late 70s!AU

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, first kiss (yahoo), Luke's typical himbo activities

Chapter 1 is here

They stopped in North Platte to sleep, and despite Luke setting up his bedroll on the floor, Han insisted he take the cot. 

"At least use the blanket or somethin'," Luke groans, "You're doin' all the driving, and I feel ridiculous taking up this much space."

In the dark, he hears more than sees Han's dismissive hand flap, "I'm usin' it, I'm usin' it. Pretty boy like you needs all the sleep he can get. I've slept on less , ya know."

"Really?"

And that kicked off an hour or so of listening to Han talk about an impulsive cross-country trip with Chuck (who he learned was the friend they were meeting in Boise) and how they "lived like peasants", sleeping under the stars and finding work where they could. Out of all the tales Han had told him, Luke believed this one the most. He could feel Han's loyalty to Chuck and was anxious to meet him. Han drifted off at some point, and Luke found himself mildly regretting not inviting the cowboy to share the bed. I bet he's one of those guys who's always warm, like a walking radiator. He was too tired to feel embarrassed about that train of thought as sleep overtook him.

Luke wakes to the sun behind his eyelids and Han's barking laughter from the driver's seat. He turns onto his side and is reading 09:30 on the dashboard clock when the radio crackles to life.

"- and where the hell are you goin' at 7:30 on a Friday, anyway, Falcon? Coulda sworn you was in Peoria last time we talked!"

The disembodied voice is both high-pitched and gravelly, and something about it makes Luke picture a man who smiles a lot. He squints toward the front of the cab. From Luke's vantage point, Han looks just as good as he did yesterday. He's changed into a different snap shirt with short sleeves, and Luke's still amazed at how well the cowboy persona fits him. Bluish light outlines his nose and highlights his dimples as he laughs and engages the microphone, "I got a better question, Art- you followin' me?"

Luke breathes a laugh that's half amusement and half joy that the last ten hours weren't a dream, and Han grins at him from up front. 

"Mornin', sunshine."

"You're pretty."

He sees Han's cheeks flush as the driver sputters and scrambles to rack the mic, "W-wanna come up here? Got coffee in Cheyenne- yours's prob’ly still hot."

Luke crawls into the passenger seat and gingerly sips his coffee. He side-eyes Han and his brow furrows, "How'd you know I take it with sugar?"

"Sweet drink for a sweet thing."

Han's smirking as he takes a sip of his own. Luke sits up a little and tries to look through the hole in Han's lid, "I bet you don't take yours black, despite the tough guy persona. I bet yours has cream in it."

Han wiggles his eyebrows and leans toward Luke, "Wanna find out?"

Luke plucks Han's cup out of his hand without looking at him and replaces it with the sweetened one, "Sure! Try mine."

Luke's too preoccupied to hear Han's exasperated "Jeeeesus..." as the man faces front again. He tries Han's coffee and lets out a little victorious sound when his suspicions are confirmed. Han, meanwhile, looks like he's just swallowed a lemon, "How do ya drink this stuff? Can't even taste the coffee."

"That's the point!"

Han puts Luke's cup in one of the holders and holds his hand out expectantly for his own. He tries to look nonplussed at Luke's sunny smile and the way their fingers brush when he gets his cup back. He thinks he fails miserably.

Luke busies himself with uncrumpling and tucking in his Nasa t-shirt when the CB lights up again. This time, a distinctly English voice comes out of it, "We're about to go out of range, but it's good to hear you haven't crashed yet, Solo. 'Til next time, and perhaps we can meet somewhere. You could bring your friend."

Art's voice chimes in, "Yeah, tell the kid hi for us. Get up to some trouble in Oregon- I hear the drugs are-"

There's a scuffle, the staticky noise of a mic being released and re-engaged, and the English voice cutting out, "...most certainly- not encourage- illicit behavior- we- the clock- report you-"

Han snorts and butts in to cut off the argument, "Have fun in Illinois, boys."

"We will," comes the unanimous reply.

Luke chuckles, "Are they always like that?" 

"Oh, yeah. Art and Cecil've been a team since before I joined the company. Art's a spaz, and Cee's always keepin' him in line."

"Are they together?"

Han ponders this and eventually shrugs, "Wouldn't be surprised. Art kinda speaks his own language, and Cecil's the only one who gets him."

Luke smiles at that, and they sit in silence as they work on their coffees. They're somewhere near Utah, and the fields on either side of the 80 are falling away to make room for an endless desert. Luke feels something land in his lap and looks down to find a well-loved road atlas. Han's finger is bookmarking the page for I-80.

"We'll start cutting North soon. 80 ends in Salt Lake City and then we're takin' the 84 to Boise. We're runnin' kinda early. If you uh... see somethin' ya wanna do, somewhere you wanna stop-"

"Like a date?" 

Luke's stopped scanning city names and his eyes are searching the side of Han's face. Han rubs the back of his neck, opens and closes his mouth a few times. Luke reaches toward Han's shoulder and stops short, embarrassed, "I-it doesn't have to be! Jeez- we've only known each other for, what, ten hours ? I don't wanna make this weird…"

Before Luke can retreat, Han's hand encircles his wrist, "I'm bad at this kinda thing," he blurts out, seemingly intent on watching the road, "The… the gooey parts. Y'know how we were laughin' 'cause you don't get any of my lines?"

Luke nods. Han's grip is loose enough that he can slide their hands together and pull them down to rest on the center console. He tries not to smile when Han gulps and flushes.

"I'm the other way around. I know all the moves and every line, 'cept the important ones. Kinda short in the romance department, but I'm tryin'. Ya gettin' me, kid?"

"You don't mind that it's a date; you want to get to know each other more; I need a combination pickup line dictionary and innuendo thesaurus!"

Luke grins like he's just saved the universe from World War III, and Han has to laugh. The blond goes back to scanning the map, holding the atlas with his free hand, "I don't mind translating for you if you're still okay with this. And the obliviousness."

Han's reply is quiet but sure, "I don't mind."

The journey to Salt Lake City is mostly filled by Luke. Han's a surprisingly good listener as his passenger regales him with the story of his and his sister's misadventures; being separated as kids; getting lost in the system; reuniting after Leia found their Uncle Ben and contacted Luke through him; college.

"If she's studyin' political science she's gotta be headstrong, huh?"

Luke grins, "Yeah. It was hard to play with her when we were kids. All she wanted to do was make dioramas, and I wasn't allowed to move 'em or she'd rip me a new one."

"That means there's a non-zero chance she'll transition into law. It's all straightforward, set in stone stuff."

Luke nods, and Han aims them toward a gas station. He goes to put the truck in park and finds his right hand is stuck. Luke smiles knowingly, "You forgot, didn't you?"

"I don't forget anything, kid."

Their fingers are still interlaced. Luke lets go and Han flexes his hand to get rid of the pins and needles before parking, "It wasn't so bad. Can't blame a man for wantin' to keep a good thing going."

Luke gets a nervous, lopsided smile that he decides he likes more on Han than the confident smirk. When he cracks the passenger door, it feels like a giant, hot hand is pushing him back into the truck. The hazy thermometer on the side of the convenience store says it's 87°. As he rounds the hood to get to Han, he squints up at the sun and wonders how people live out here.

And it's not even 16:00. How hot can pavement get before it melts your shoes off...?

His voluntary self-blinding session is cut off when something big and shady covers his head and most of his face. He fumbles with it and hears Han laugh behind him as the taller man straightens the hat on Luke's head. It's maybe an inch too big, but Luke's hair seems to be holding it up. 

"I know ya probably get a lotta sun on the farm anyway, but a little protection never hurts. And it looks good." The nervous smile is back as Han hands Luke a 20, "Run in there and get some snacks?"

"What do you like?"

"I've always been real partial to cheese-flavored shapes."

Luke nods and looks down at his shoes as he heads toward the store, and Han watches his hat walk away on that pretty blond for a little too long before he starts the pump.

It's not long before Luke's running back out with a bag that looks very full, and Han gets $5 back in change, "What'd ya buy, a life-altering five-course meal?"

"Something like that," Luke smiles. The hat's tipped back so his bangs and the hair around his ears sticks out from under the band, and the shade is emphasizing how blue his eyes are, and let's focus on not spillin' gas all over myself and blowin' up the place. Han's glad for his sunglasses. At least no one can see him staring. They get back on the road and Luke puts the hat back in its spot behind Han’s seat.

"There's a place not far off of I-84 that I'd like to go, if you're still willing. It's in Idaho."

Luke points to it on the atlas and Han nods, "Just tell me when to turn, huh?"

It only takes two hours of driving at hyperspeed (Luke's started referring to Han's driving as such but hasn't told him yet) to reach their destination. Luke had picked the place solely by its name, and he wasn't disappointed. He grabs their bag of convenience store goodies and the blanket from his bedroll and, without thinking, swipes Han's hat and plants it on his head as he fumbles his way out of the truck.

"Woah, woah, not so fast, Blue Eyes- Luke! Luke, god dammit-"

Han scrambles after him and gives chase until Luke comes to a dead stop at the edge of a dropoff. The cowboy narrowly avoids colliding with him and wheezes out a halfhearted jab as he takes in the view.

Shoshone Falls is huge. The water is a deafening roar in Han's ears, and it's generating a thick current of mist that sweeps across the canyon and cools his skin. The sun's in just the right place to create hundreds of tiny rainbows that float above the water. He's been to Niagara, and this is definitely bigger. 

Clanking and crinkling pulls him out of his reverie, and he looks down to see a blanket spread at his feet and Luke unloading the contents of his mystery haul onto it.

"Sandwiches, cheetos, more Pepsi, and dessert? Jesus, kid, you're spoilin' me."

Luke laughs breathily and hides under his stolen hat while he arranges their picnic. Han sits across from him and tips the hat back for Luke to see his smirk, "Not that I don't like it."

"I-I took a guess on the sandwiches! One's turkey and provolone and one's roast beef and... something."

Luke might as well be sunburnt again, his blush is that dark. Han picks roast beef and mystery cheese and sets the turkey sandwich in Luke's hand, leaning forward to get the farmer to make eye contact with him from under the hat, "I think this is pretty good for a first date."

Luke lights up at the last word, handing Han his cheetos and soda before tearing the plastic off of his own sandwich. Han talks about his Niagara trip between bites and mentally gives himself a point for managing to fluster his companion without using any of his famous lines. 

After a while, they move to sit next to each other, watching the falls as the sun dips low but never sets. Han’s reminded of his not-so-legal visit to Canada last year, and turns to Luke to tell him about it, but he stops short when he sees that Luke's eyes are closed. He's smiling blissfully, and dew is collecting on his hair and eyelashes. Han loses track of how long he stares at Luke basking in the sun, but at some point, he realizes that he kind of wants to try out one of those gooey relationships with him.

"Goin’ soft. Goin’ soft for a pretty, oblivious farm boy." Han mumbles to himself.

"Huh?"

Luke opens his eyes like he's waking up from a dream and starts when Han is right there, staring at him. He’s backlit by the sun, and oh god, I think I wanna kiss him. Is that too soon? What do I do with my hands? I’m staring at him. I gotta stop staring, that's weird what do I do…

Han smirks as he watches Luke’s gaze flick between his eyes and his mouth, “Ya know, a normal person woulda gone in for the kill by now.”

“Good thing I’m not a serial killer, then?” Luke mumbles, brow furrowing. 

“Boy, I sure know how to pick 'em.” 

Han grabs the back of Luke’s neck and hauls him in for a kiss before he can second-guess himself. Luke’s surprised exclaim is muffled against Han’s lips, and his eyes go comically wide before he screws them shut. He fists the cowboy’s shirt in an attempt to ground himself, and feels Han smile into the kiss and mumble a “sorry” against his mouth. Han pulls away to look over his own shoulder and notes the coming darkness, “Should get back to the truck ‘fore it’s too dark.”

Luke hums noncommittally, and Han turns back to him to see that he hasn’t put any distance between them. He’s staring at Han, still wrinkling the hell out of his shirt, and whispering, “Can we do that again?” like he’s sharing a secret. 

Han sighs, exasperated, “At this point, ya don’t really have to ask -”

He’s cut off by Luke surging forward and capturing his lips and feels the kid’s hands bury themselves in his hair. He grabs Luke’s waist and pushes against him to keep them from toppling over and gets a very happy hum in response. They separate for air, and Han snorts when he sees that his hat is barely hanging on to Luke’s head. The farm boy’s cheeks are bright red, and his eyes are unfocused. Han guesses that he probably looks just as silly, but when Luke flashes him another one of those sunny smiles, he finds that he doesn’t really care.

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Hii! Just saw you write for the mummy! If you are willing to, could you write me an Ardeth Bay x Reader? I'm thinking about him with a s/o that likes to bite to show affection. Not even in a nsfw context, just affectionately bites him. Like, she looks at him and her mind is like "I love this man so much, I need to bite him to show him I love him"

Aberrant Affection

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66838276

Pairing: Ardeth Bay x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Jonathan, one use of the word ass

Tags: Fluff, biting as a sign of affection, established relationship

A/N: I formatted this as a 4 times + 1 time fic to maximize the biting occurrences/examples. Side note: A cezve is a small pot, made of brass or copper, used to make Turkish coffee. I hope you enjoy, anon!

1.

After hours shenanigans were generally discouraged at the Cairo Museum, but misery loves company. As you sit in the museum archives, cataloguing your slow progress reorganizing Evy's pre-Imhotep bookshelf disaster, you're glad that you snuck Ardeth in. The shelves in your little "office" have been replaced, but you've only reshelved up to E in the alphabet. Ardeth has taken up residence at Evy's old desk, which is positioned facing yours to create a larger working surface. He's reading one of the unshelved books, wholly engrossed. He either hasn't realized or hasn't commented on your staring for the last ten minutes.

Thouroughly bored, you roll your desk chair to his side of the mega-desk and position yourself behind him, reading over his shoulder. He brings one hand up to his shoulder in a silent request for you to hold it. You don't think, you take his hand in both of yours, and instead of placing a kiss to his knuckles, you bite the side of his index finger. Nothing damaging, more like touching your teeth to it than ripping a chunk off, but his shoulders shoot up like you've amputated his hand.

"Is this a strange way of telling me you feel neglected?"

He turns his head to observe you over his shoulder and sees you with your lips still resting against the side of his hand, not kissing, just pressed there. You smile and shake your head, "I love you- that's all."

One eyebrow shoots up, "Is a kiss not sufficient?"

"It's not an accurate representation of how much I love you."

Ardeth sighs, and you wait for him to tell you off for being too odd. Instead, he turns back to his book and leaves his hand in your grasp, "Refrain from inflicting any serious wounds, please."

2.

You wait in your little apartment, the only light a floor lamp by your reading chair. You've glanced out the window every hour with no sign of Ardeth's return. Every mission, every part of a Medjai's job is familiar territory to you after years of assisting them, but it's still worrying to be left behind. Your windows are open to let in the night air, and even the familiar smell of the city, spices and sun-baked stone, doesn't ease your nerves.

Finally, the front doork opens and the warrior lets himself in, visibly weary. The invisible weight disappears, however, when he sees you curled up in the soft lamplight.

His face breaks into a rare smile as he approaches and sweeps you up and out of your chair. You throw your arms over his shoulders and bury your face in his neck, firmly digging your teeth into it. Ardeth's startled laugh fills the room as he sways you gently. He turns his head as much as he can to kiss your temple, featherlight.

"I never thought I would enjoy being attacked after such dangerous outings," He mumbles as you both lean back to look at each other, "But, it seems I was wrong."

Your answering grin, adoring and mischievous, makes him scoff while he sets you on your feet. You scurry into the kitchen and return with two mugs and a steaming cezve on a tray. Ardeth lets out an appreciative hum as you serve the coffee and reaches behind himself to scoot the floor lamp closer to the table. As the two of you drink and stare out into the night, you finally relax.

3.

Double dates are a rarity, and outings with the whole gang are nigh impossible. For once, Rick and Evy aren't off in some distant country; and Jonathan isn't in jail; and you and Ardeth aren't fighting for your lives in some dusty temple. Going out as a group wasn't even a question at this point, and you're basking in the company of your friends.

Another round of drinks and a fresh bowl of dates are delivered while you and Evy banter across the table.

"-and I told him we should have brought you to Hamunaptra! You knew he was a Medjai as soon as you saw him- if we had had you there, Imhotep would have been old news in less than a week," Evy complains, hand shooting out to stop the date Rick was preparing to launch at her.

Jonathan grumbles into his gin, "But, you didn't have to talk to a mummy with centuries-old bad breath. Nasty stuff."

"And I can still take credit for introducing you two weirdos afterward." Rick gestures to you and Ardeth, talking through a mouthful of dates.

The Medjai scoffs, "You cannot reasonably take credit for fate."

He leans toward you, presumably for a kiss, and gets a nip to the nose instead, followed by a fond giggle. Ardeth sighs before chasing your lips again, and gets his kiss before asking Jonathan, "Is the biting a common behavior in your country, or is it unique to her?"

The young man's voice is dripping with sarcastic excitement, "Oh, it's all her."

Evy interjects, "We were often her victims as children."

"Unfortunately. Why hug when you can maim instead?"

You lunge toward the man like he's your next target, and the rest of the table laughs at his quiet scream as he spills his drink and almost tips his chair over.

4.

You land hard on your ass as the doorway crumbles behind you, burning yourself on the hot sand and coughing up dust as you squint into the sun. The tomb is effectively destroyed thanks to your blunder with a tripwire, but the goal was to deactivate its seals and prevent more undead from crossing into your world, anyway. Two birds, one stone, etc.. You stand and flap your outer robes to get the sand out of them, exhaling harshly in disbelief. Somewhere nearby, another part of the building collapses, and you see Rick kicking up sand as he puts distance between himself and a falling column.

Your sunbathing session is interrupted by a large shadow, and there's Ardeth and Evy with your camels. Evy is suspiciously dust-free, and laughs abashedly at your glare, "I made a quick exit when you finished the rites. I had a feeling..."

She trails off when she notices Rick bent over and hacking, groans to herself, and begins her march toward him, dragging their camels with her.

You approach Ardeth, holding your hands up and making scrunching motions with them. He bends at the waist and you stand on your toes to shake the sand out of his hair.

"I see you weren't spared, either."

You smile apologetically at him when he straightens and take your reins from him.

"Our lives were spared. That matters more than our clothing, I think."

He reaches for you and you sigh happily into his kiss. It's cut short when you feel another set of coarse, fuzzy lips nibbling your ear. You squeal and pull away to gawk at your camel, and Ardeth laughs softly.

"He is just like you. Are you relatives, perhaps?"

Ardeth reels you in by your waist as you sputter angrily, bending down to brush his lips against your forehead, "I would rather have you than the camel, I assure you."

You nip at his chin, still resentful, "You're insufferable."

5.

After months of hard work, you have single-handedly reorganized the archives and are opening a new exhibit at the museum. Evy and Ardeth helped you sort through the artifacts from your latest adventure, removing any material that might cause spiritual trouble if some poor guest decided to read the glyphs aloud or touch any hidden seals.

Now, you stand next to a huge slab of limestone covered in historic (and blessedly not cursed) text, finishing your inagural speech while your friends cheer you on from the back of the crowd. Ardeth is with them, watching you like a hawk. There's applause as you cut the ribbon and let the audience into the exhibit, and you sigh in relief after the last of the group is out of sight.

Your friends congratulate you one by one, and you decide on a place to meet for dinner before they wander off to see the exhibit, leaving you and Ardeth alone. You take in the sight of him in his ceremonial robes and remember his adamant refusal to wear a tux, despite Jonathan's nagging.

"These robes have been passed down for thousands of years and have not failed my people once. They are more than enough for me."

Jon had practically deflated at this, but his happiness was restored when the Medjai suggested he try use his persuasive powers on Rick.

As he stands before you now, you think he looks much more handsome than those rubes in the next room, anyway.

He must be thinking something similar, for his hands skim your sides appreciatively, and he seems to admire you in your silk dress, "You did well."

"It didn't feel that way," You turn to face the huge stone, eyes scanning the text, "God, I was nervous."

Ardeth's arms snake about your waist and he murmurs into your ear, "You make people curious about your work and their history. You make them want to learn. I admire it."

Your mouth opens to reply, but the words are dashed from your lips when you feel a set of teeth dig into your shoulder.

"Wha-"

Ardeth is positively grinning, you can feel it against the place he just nipped. His shoulders shake with silent laughter as you spin in his arms and cup his jaw to tug his face toward yourself.

He's still laughing as you pepper his lips and cheeks with your 'kisses'.

[bonsoir-oiseau]

Strong feeling it gets followed up by a "Ya gotta ask nicely" power move AGSIFHWIDJDJ

sorry for the pixels but I found this on pinterest and can't find the original post

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not me shelling out the cash to get tested and learning that ALL THREE OF THESE THINGS CAN BE TRUE AT ONCE

Am I bad at my job or is there a culture of under-explaining in my office? Or is it a secret third thing (autism)?

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Woman at Her Toilette, 1889 Louis Anquetin

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and the quality devolves until Jefferson Wormhole just makes wordless, incomprehensible music that sounds like all the worst parts of Blade Runner and 2001: A Space Odyssey

I think they should have kept going. Jefferson Space Station. Jefferson Moonbase. Jefferson Wormhole. The only limitation is your imagination.

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tap here for more pngs of bat skeletons

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Andrew Grant Kurtis - "Morning Haze, Venice"

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I FORGOT TO REBLOG THIS SO YOU GOT THE LINK AGH

Tis here!

It also has an AO3 post if you prefer reading on there :) Thank you for such a rad idea!!

thinking about flirty truck driver han and sheltered farm boy hitchhiker luke who can't tell when he's being hit on to save his life

[bonsoir-oiseau]

Thinking about the possible consequences of adopting a dog with Indy and then naming the dog Henry

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Title: A day in June in the woods near Lellinge Artist: Carl Frederik Aagaard (Danish, 1833-1895) Date: 1878 Genre: landscape painting Medium: oil on canvas Dimensions: 96 cm (37.8 in) high x 142 cm (55.9 in) wide

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Sergius Hruby, 1935

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New Kid in Town

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66537598

Pairing: Truck driver Han Solo/Oblivious hitchhikin' farmboy Luke Skywalker Late 70s!AU

Summary: Luke decides to hitchike to see his sister and is picked up by a handsome truck driver who's determined to flirt with him. Lucky for Luke, all of it goes over his head.

Inspired by this post by @dark-scape

A/N: Did I make real world Han a combo of himself and Bob Falfa? Yes. Did I reference Smokey and the Bandit? Also yes. And the title is my favorite Eagles song. Someone let me know if you want a meet-the-sister sequel, an NSFW sequel, anything. I had way too much fun writing this. Here's my soundtrack for writing this.

Chapter 2 is here

The sunburn on the back of Luke's neck is just starting to itch when he finally gets someone to pull over. He knew it wasn't the greatest idea to walk the shoulder of the 80, but it was better than standing around Coralville's one roadhouse and feeling like a weirdo for not buying anything. So, he walked. And as he watches the blue Kenworth skid to a stop ahead of him, he has just enough time to think about Aunt Beru's warning about serial killers before the driver's door opens and out hops a man who is far too handsome to be murderer. His boots kick up some dust on landing, and Luke can make out sun-faded Wranglers and a light paisley button down with the sleeves rolled up. All in all, a very normal looking guy.

"I'm sure that's exactly what every serial killer wants you to think, dear." Luke shakes Aunt Beru out of his head and jogs along the side of the trailer to meet his new chauffeur, who's already sticking out a tanned hand for him to shake.

"Figured you shouldn't hafta make that long walk all by yourself," He's smiling and looking at Luke over the top of his aviators, "Name's Han."

"Hi. Luke," the blond smiles back and hopes Han doesn't notice how nervous he really is, but he must not because he's already stealing Luke's duffel from under his arm.

"I-I can carry that-"

"I wouldn't be a good host if I didn't. Hop in." Han jerks a thumb toward the passenger side and Luke hurries around the front of the tractor while his bag is tossed behind Han's seat.

"You're uh- you're real nice, considering this is my first real hitchhiking experience."

"And you're not so bad yourself, considering it's my first time pickin' somebody up." Han flashes that winning smile again, and Luke likes it in combination with his drawl.

"Why me?"

"Eh, you looked a little greener than other people I've passed. Figured if anybody was safe to pick up, it'd be a pretty boy like you," Han shrugs as he pulls out onto I-80.

"And you don't look like a serial killer, so I guess we're both safe!" Luke laughs nervously at his own joke and relaxes when he hears Han's incredulous scoff.

"Sure hope I don't- I spent long years cultivating the charming persona you see before you."

"Well, I feel very safe having my first time be with you."

Han's shocked laugh fills the cab, "I've always liked 'em direct, but can we get to know each other for a few hours at least?"

Han turns to see how Luke's brow pinches and the corners of his mouth turn down as he mumbles a confused, "Huh?" and oh. Oh. He's green in that department, too.

Han grins like he's in on something and says, "S'nothin', kid," with a wave of his hand, "Why're you hitchin' out here? Ain't exactly a thriving metropolis."

Luke visibly perks up and his next words come out a little rushed, "Oh! I uh- I live out here with my aunt and uncle. My sister's goin' to college in Oregon and it's her last semester, so I'm hitching out there to be there for her graduation."

"Y'don't have a car or somethin'? Airplane tickets, maybe?"

"No, we couldn't afford em this close to her ceremony, and the farm truck can barely make it into town as it is," Luke fiddles with a loose thread on the passenger seat and shrugs, "I figured this was the next best thing- short of stealing a car, y'know."

"Hey, I admire the dedication. 'sides, if you hadn't decided to risk your neck on the 80, I'd've never gotten to see your pretty face."

"You've got a nice face, too! Lucky we met, I guess." Luke's innocent smile shows absolutely zero sign of Han's lines landing, and Han chuckles as he reaches behind Luke's seat to rummage through something. His hand comes back into view holding two bottles of Pepsi, and in a move too smooth not to be the result of years of practice, he takes his foot off the gas and pops the cap off of one bottle with the heel of his boot. He offers it to his passenger with a wink, "Ain't as good as the freight, but it's cold."

Luke takes it and watches with the same rapt attention as Han repeats his stunt and takes a swig.

"What's back there?"

"Beer, kid. Tons of it. I'm runnin' it out to Boise as a job for a friend of mine. Gotta get it out there by this Saturday."

Luke's eyebrows shoot up, "But it's almost Friday already! Gosh, you'd have to be crazy to try pulling that off."

Han puffs out his chest at Luke's amazement, "I'm the fastest driver around. Falcon's made it from Texarkana to Atlanta in under 28 hours before."

"Falcon?"

Han points out the windshield, and it takes Luke a moment to notice the truck's definitely-not-stock hood ornament. He nods solemnly, "You must be really experienced if you've got a fancy trophy like that."

"Only where it counts." Han winks at Luke over his glasses and Luke's eyes brighten, "Out here, you mean? Sheesh- I've seen my sister break a hundred on the 80, but she's probably got 95% more of a chance of wrecking than you do, if you're that good."

Han sighs and shakes his head, How obvious can I be without spellin' it out for him?

"Enough about me. You said you're a farmer, Blue Eyes?"

"Oh yeah! Corn. I guess people might say it looks kinda boring on the outside, but I like it. We raise horses during planting season, and I've always liked them more than the corn."

"I bet you're real good at ridin' the big stallions, huh?"

"A-and fillies! We have to break em all in for farm work, y'know." Luke smiles as he gesticulates, "And we raise em for shows, too."

Han's mentally facepalming at this kid's naïveté, but it's sort of a fun game for him, "Bet you're real strong, too, workin' all day like that," he reaches over and claps a hand on Luke's shoulder, squeezing it a little.

"I guess... it is kinda hard to throw bags of meal into the back of the truck. And I have to shovel it into the silos during the wet season..."

Luke can feel his mouth moving while he describes his life on the farm to Han and tells him about his sister's political science degree over the next hour and a half, but all he can focus on is that warm hand that's drifted from his shoulder to rest next to his on the center console. Every time one of them takes a drink and puts their arm back down, their knuckles brush together, and Luke could swear there's a little electric current snaking up his arm each time it happens.

Somewhere along the way, he's turned in his seat and started admiring his driver as Han takes over the conversation. The tales of his escapades all seem a little too grand to be true, but Luke's entertained and he likes Han's flair. They're almost to the Nebraska border, and the sunset is turning everything a soft shade of pink- the feathery hair that's curling just a little past Han's ears; the shrewd hazel eyes scanning the horizon; the long fingers of one hand, drumming the wheel in time with the radio; the ridged nose that's perfectly balanced out by those pretty lips- Oh christ, he's practically a stranger AND he might still kill you before you make it out of Iowa Luke pull it together-

"Hey, here's dinner. Hope you like diner food, pretty boy."

Han's pulling off of the interstate and heading for the most stereotypical luncheonette Luke's ever seen- neon sign and everything. Luke hops out of the cab and sighs, half in joy and half in relief of having his previous train of thought derailed, "Oh, man, I could probably eat half the state at this point."

"Hope I'm on that menu."

"It's a metaphor, Han."

Luke's raised eyebrow and cocked hip are too much for Han, and he throws his head back to bark out a laugh before he reaches behind his seat for a cowboy hat Luke hadn't noticed before. He puts it on and, unsurprisingly, it looks great on him. Anyone else would have looked like a hick to Luke, but Han's boots are worn in and he looks like he's worked at least one honest day in his life.

Ten minutes later, they've ordered and Luke is waiting for Leia to pick up at the diner's only pay phone.

"Lando and Leia's room: telemarketers will be heckled," an exasperated girl-voice huffs into his ear.

"Leia it's me! I'm in Omaha and I've been riding in this guy's truck...." Luke goes on for five minutes before Leia interrupts him.

"He's flirting with you?"

"Huh?"

"He's calling you pretty and squeezing your biceps and shit. Please tell me you haven't been riding in this hot guy's truck for the last four hours and not jumped him 'cause you're dumber than a box of rocks," there's a small kerfuffle on her end of the line, and Luke groans when he hears Leia's muffled voice relaying his misadventures to her roommate.

"Actually, it's only been two hours 'cause he's really fast. I guess he does... long haul work, I think is what he said? And he's the best guy in the region or something. You should meet him. I thought he was a fake when I saw his outfit the first time, but he's a real cowboy."

Leia groans from somewhere in Oregon, "And all his lines went right over your head! Do you like him?"

"Yeah, he's pretty... and kinda goofy."

Lando's voice yells at him from somewhere far away, "Is he a serial killer?"

"Well, we've talked the whole drive and he's buying me dinner-"

Leia again: "He's buying you dinner!? For the love of God, Luke, you're actively on a date with Han and you're spending it on the phone with me? Get back to the table and start laying it on him!"

Luke goes red and hopes Han doesn't hear him sputter into the phone, "B-but what if he's not and I out myself to him and-"

"Then Lando and I have to drive to Omaha to kill a guy before graduation. I'm 99% sure he's into you, Luke. Go get his ass."

Leia and Lando whoop directly into the reciever beforr the line goes dead. Luke leaves a quarter on the counter and swallows hard as he weaves between tables to get back to Han. Their food's been on the table for a while, but his companion waits for him to sit down before digging into his own meal. He's even got good manners? God, I hope Leia's right.

Luke decides he's going to pay more attention to Han and wait until dinner is almost over before he confronts him. Just to be sure. Sure enough, he's picking up on more eye contact; more of their fingers brushing when they pass each other condiments; more of Han's charming smile and the inside-joke laugh when he says something Luke can only guess is a pickup line. They're just getting their post-meal milkshakes delivered when he works up the courage to ask, "Are you... are you hitting on me, Han?"

He laughs nervously as Han exhales hard and looks at the ceiling like it holds all the answers in the world, "No, kid, I was just callin' ya pretty and brushin' hands with you to pass the time."

"Oh, okay! I just didn't want to assume anything, and it's fine if you wanna leave me here with my things-"

"For cryin' out loud, Luke, of course I'm flirtin' with ya. Who wouldn't? You're easy to talk to and easy on the eyes. And, I promise I was doin' more than just feedin' ya lines for the last three hours. I was listenin' when you were talkin' about your family, too. Seems like ya really love your sister, and if you're not fed up with my company after all this hoorah, I'll take to Oregon myself."

"You mean it?" Luke's got both hands planted on the edge of his seat and is leaning forward to make eye contact. Han's instantly reminded of his childhood dog and has to hold back a laugh.

"Hell- why not? You can meet my business partner when I drop this box off in Boise. He don't talk much, but he's a sweet one. And, I bet we could reach your sister by Sunday. What do you say?"

Han puts his right hand on the table, palm up, and Luke lets his own hand rest on top of it, grinning bashfully, "I'd like that. Sorry I'm so dense- my sister got all the brains. I guess I got the brawn."

"That's just how I like 'em," Han throws an exagerrated wink at him, and Luke has to laugh.

"That was another one, wasn't it?"

"Mhmm. Whaddaya say we take these shakes to go? Could probably make it to North Platte before we need to sleep."

Luke nods, and Han throws a few bills on the table. They pack themselves into his truck and are on the road for maybe twenty minutes before Luke finds himself staring again.

"See somethin' ya like, kid?"

Han's aforementioned pretty lips are pulled up into a half-smirk, and he's side-eyeing Luke. Luke can feel how warm he is, and knows his face is probably as red as his sunburn.

"N-no, I was just hopin' you'd talk to me some more!"

"I'll do more'n talk to ya if ya keep lookin' at me that way."

"Sorry-" Luke schools his face into what he hopes is a neutral expression and goes to face the windshield again when Han stops him by grabbing his chin.

"I'm pokin' at ya, pretty boy," Han huffs a laugh and lets go of him to take another sip of his shake, "I don't mind it, but most people who look at a guy like that for long enough end up in one of those." Han points a finger behind his own seat as he puts the straw in his mouth. As Luke notices that this is a sleeper cab after two and a half hours of riding in it, he finally has a comeback for Han.

"Is that an offer?"

And just like that, they're pulling over to clean a mouthful of peanut butter milkshake off the inside of the windshield.

[bonsoir-oiseau]

[bonsoir-oiseau]

𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢

[bonsoir-oiseau]

Haha! I'll tag you when I post it *insert mischievous jawa noises here*

thinking about flirty truck driver han and sheltered farm boy hitchhiker luke who can't tell when he's being hit on to save his life