"Come What May"

by Angela Jade

Rating - NC-17 (slash!) - underagers and non-slashers... don't
let the door hit your ass as you leave.

Email - angela@yavin4.free-online.co.uk - constructive criticism
and general feedback very welcome. Flames laughed at.

Website - www.geocities.com/angelajade/index.html

Summary - a series of vignettes exploring a relationship
between the two greatest X-wing pilots ever. Set during the
Original Trilogy.

Disclaimer - Luke, Wedge, and the entire SW galaxy belongs to
George. I'm not making any money from this.

Warning - lotsa slash! You don't like, you don't read.

Archive - WAAS, SWAL, Sithchicks. Everyone else, please ask.

Megathanks to Sheyla. Fanfic beta and butt-kicker extraordinaire!

May 2002

"Love is love. Shall I lose my soul's mate and my heart's dream
because of something as trival as gender?"
- Marie Whi Mitshue

PART ONE - FIVE MONTHS AFTER THE BATTLE OF YAVIN

Higher and higher, twisting and turning; pleasure so intense it
borders on pain. Spots of light appearing in the darkness
behind closed eyelids, dancing and expanding. Cries of
passion, stifled at the last second in case anyone should hear.
Finally, an all-too-brief moment of total ecstasy - speed, light,
weightlessness, rapture...

Wedge forced his eyes open and tried to kickstart his addled
mind as his lover fell heavily on the narrow bed beside him,
panting and gasping for air. "Sith, Skywalker! When I asked you
to fuck my brains out, I didn't mean literally."

Twisting his head on the pillow, Luke grinned at him, teeth
shining white against still-tanned skin. "I'm glad you're
back."

"I can tell," muttered Wedge. "I can't feel anything below my
waist."

Luke rolled onto his side, one hand brushing ineffectually at the
sweat-soaked hair that fell over his eyes. He pressed a
kiss to Wedge's shoulder, and the grin was replaced by a more
serious expression. "Do you realize we've known each
other for five months now?"

"Great! Do we get a cake?"

"No," replied Luke, a mock frown wrinkling his brow. "We'd
actually have to have seen each other more than twelve
times to earn a cake."

Blowing out a frustrated sigh, Wedge reached for Luke's hand
and entwined their fingers. "You're counting?"

"You are the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me,"
said Luke quietly. "Every time I walk out that door, every
time I climb into my X-wing, there's chaos and blood and death
and politics. You are the one person that keeps me sane.
Of course I'm counting."

Wedge wrapped his hand around Luke's neck and pulled him in
for a kiss, their tongues tangling as their mouths melted
into each other. Even though there was hardly any difference in
their ages, sometimes Wedge felt years older than the
young farmboy from Tatooine. Did Luke even realize how much
he lived for these trysts, when he could forget about the
Rebellion and the Empire for an all-too-brief period of time?
Probably not - the shy pilot still acted as if Wedge was
doing him a favor. Finally he broke away, his brown eyes fixed
steadily on Luke's blue ones. "It's war. I wish we
could spend our time sitting around drinking ale and watching
holomovies, but we have a job to do."

"I know, I know," murmured Luke, his hand drifting over Wedge's
sweat-slicked chest, following the contours as if
mapping unknown terrain. "And don't get me wrong - I love
flying. I just wish we could do it in the same squadron."

Luke's hand stilled suddenly as Wedge caught it and held it in
place. "We've been through this before. You're working
your way up through Blue Squadron, I'm working up through
Green..."

"And that's another thing," interrupted Luke. "Why do they keep
naming the Squadrons after boring colors? We're
on the front line of the Rebellion - we should have more inspiring
names."

Wedge couldn't help but smile at Luke's enthusiasm. It seemed
to surge out of him, as if his body couldn't contain his
spirit. His vitality, his sheer zest for life wasn't always visible, but
Wedge knew it was there, bubbling under the surface.
And he loved him for it. "Like what?"

"Like Blaster Squadron, or Valiant, or Steel..."

"Warrior?"

Luke nodded, his bangs slipping into his eyes again. "Warrior
Squadron sounds good. How about `Scourge'?"

"Or `Scoundrel'."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "Now you're being silly."

"No, I'm not," replied Wedge, squeezing Luke's hand. "It makes
us sound wild and unpredictable and dangerous."

"Scoundrel Squadron is still a bit of a mouthful."

They lapsed into a companionable silence and Luke settled
himself into Wedge's side, wriggling his shoulders to get
comfortable. Finally he spoke, his breath whispering across the
Corellian's skin. "I want to resurrect Red Squadron. I
want to create an elite X-wing squad to take on the most difficult
missions - the best pilots, the best equipment, the best
training..."

"You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"

Raising his head, Luke rested his chin on warm skin. "I've had a
lot of time to think lately."

"The best pilots - that would be us, of course."

"Of course." Luke smiled. "And the ten next-best pilots who are
willing to join us."

Wedge's hand slipped lazily through Luke's hair, the blond
strands gliding softly over his fingers. "Are you sure this
isn't just an excuse for us to live together?"

The dimpled grin again, the one that melted Wedge's heart.
"That would be merely an extra benefit. I hadn't really
considered the living arrangements..."

"You are such a liar, Skywalker."

Instantly Luke was upon him, pinning Wedge's arms above his
head as he stretched the length of his body, his
expression serious apart from the tell-tale twinkle in his eyes.
"This from the Corellian who `never sleeps with pilots'?"

"You're not going to let me forget that, are you?"

"No."

There was a brief tussle, and Wedge managed to reverse their
positions. He grinned triumphantly. "I dunno - there's a
really nice tech just started with us. Maybe I should ask her
out..."

Luke raised his head, closing the tiny gap between them. His
kiss was long and sensuous and thorough, a reminder of
their past and an allusion to their possible future.

Wedge gulped. "Or maybe not."

*****

PART TWO - FOUR MONTHS BEFORE THE BATTLE OF HOTH

The door to the outer office creaked open and closed, the
servomotors long past needing replaced. Wedge Antilles
groaned loudly, distracted once more from the datacard he'd
been reading for the third time. Briefly he wondered if there was
anywhere he could hide; behind the enormous wall of work on
his desk had definite possibilities. But it was too late. The inner
door cycled open at high speed, although it did have the decency
to stick solidly with a quarter of the door still showing.

The orange-suited figure that stepped through the doorway
brought a grin to his face and an unexpected jolt of heat to the pit
of his stomach. He leaped to attention and sketched a quick
salute. "Commander Skywalker, you're back."

Luke's hand shot out and hit the door panel. He frowned as the
door stuttered closed. "This place is falling to bits, Captain
Antilles." The click of the door as it finally slid home induced his
own grin, and he immediately strode towards his XO's desk.

He never made it.

Wedge was around the desk instantly, grabbing a handful of his
lover's flightsuit and pulling him in for an unabashedly
passionate kiss, bruising and full of need. Clinging together like
stalks of savo grass in an electrical storm, the two men held
each other tightly, tasting, touching, inhaling each others' scent,
wiping from memory the long weeks they'd spent apart.

"You missed me, then?" whispered Luke when they finally
separated.

"Hell, yeah!" replied Wedge, one hand waving towards the piles
of datacards. "Have you seen the amount of work they dump on
me when you're away?"

"Cute," growled Luke, one hand grabbing Wedge's ass and
pulling it firmly towards him. "I missed you."

Fire raced from Wedge's groin to his brain and back again as
his hands settled on Luke's upper arms. An unfamiliar
muscle-tone met his touch. "Hey! Somebody's been working
out!"

"A little." Luke's grin was a lot more confident than Wedge
remembered it. "Room?"

"I can't, I've... uh... got a stack of work to do..."

"Half of it's mine," reasoned Luke. "I'll ignore it if you will." His
hand slid around to firmly caress Wedge's growing erection. "Or
we can just throw it all on the floor and you can take me on the
desk."

A vivid image of Luke Skywalker naked and bent over his work
station suddenly assaulted Wedge's mind and his hips
involuntarily thrust forward. He whimpered when the arousing
hand left off stroking him, then he watched fascinated as Luke
stretched his arm towards the desk, fingers tense with
concentration.

After a few moments, one stack began to vibrate, then another. A
solitary datacard fell noisily to the floor, then the trembling
stopped.

"Dammit," muttered Luke, flexing his hand. "I've been practicing
that for weeks."

"Looked impressive to me," said Wedge, a hint of true pride in
his voice. He patted Luke's cheek, dragging his attention away
from the desk and its recalcitrant contents. "Anyway, you're the
one that made the `no sex in the office' rule."

"I did?" Luke's frown morphed back into a sexy smile. "Then it's
back to the room, I guess. We can afford an hour or so off."

"Only an hour?" One hour wasn't nearly enough time for him to
do all the things he wanted to do to his CO. Still, the ability to
walk would probably be a requirement for running a squadron...

Luke nodded, pulling his lover in for another quick kiss. "Yup,
one hour. Then we are going to work our asses off. I found us
another base."

"We're getting out of this dive? Great!" No more broken
machinery, no more supply problems, no more power rationing...
"Where is it?"

"Hoth," replied Luke. "Middle of nowhere. You'll like it." He
tugged Wedge towards the door. "Can we go have sex now?"

*****

PART THREE - FOUR DAYS BEFORE THE BATTLE OF HOTH

The snow-dusted figure stomped along the dimly lit hallway, his
face hidden by the ice-encrusted hood of his parka. All-over body
padding disguised his shape, substantial gloves encased his
hands, and thick-soled boots forced him to tread heavily.
Unrecognizable and anonymous, he could have been a general
or a private; he was neither.

Rogue Squadron's sleeping quarters, like the rest of Echo Base,
had been carved from solid ice. Ice floors, ice ceilings, ice walls
punctuated only by low-powered glow rods. The figure sighed,
his breath pluming outwards in a cloud of frozen water vapor. He
wondered if he would ever feel warm again.

Finally he reached his destination, one of a row of six identical
doors, each as white as the surrounding ice. He grudgingly
tugged one glove off and pressed his hand to the chilly door
announcer. "Let me in. I'm bloody freezing out here."

The door obligingly zipped open and allowed him access,
closing quickly behind him. One glove dropped to the floor,
quickly followed by its twin, and at long last Wedge Antilles could
push back his hood. "A little help would be good here - I can
hardly move."

Luke Skywalker, pilot, commanding officer, wannabe Jedi, and
damn good lay grumbled loudly as he struggled from beneath
the covers he'd deliberately entangled himself in and forced
himself out of bed. Wedge almost laughed out loud when he
caught sight of the orange sweater and matching socks that his
partner wore over a pair of baggy, gray sleep-pants. "Where the
hell did you get that little ensemble?"

"Jan Usnepro down in the kitchens," answered Luke, grimacing
as he helped Wedge out of his stiff parka. "And I wouldn't laugh
if I were you; she's making a set for you, too."

"Does it help keep you warm?"

"Not a lot." Luke pursed his lips in concentration as he undid the
closures of Wedge's under-jacket. "You gonna tell me why
you're so late back? The shield doors are due to close in twenty
minutes. I was getting worried."

Wedge shrugged his way out of the next layer of clothing. "Damn
tauntaun kept trying to throw me. Just about took my arms out of
their sockets fighting to get the Sith-spawned thing to come
home." He sat gratefully on the bed so Luke could pull his boots
off. "The quicker we get those snowspeeders working, the
happier I'll be."

"I like the tauntauns," commented Luke as pulled off a
frost-encrusted boot. "It's nice to have something living carry me,
for a change." The other boot landed on the floor with a dull thud
and Luke quickly started on the Corellian's socks.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Luke Skywalker?"
demanded Wedge melodramatically. "Y'know... the guy who
loves his X-wing so much, I get jealous."

"You do?" Luke grinned up at him. "I didn't know that." The grin
quickly changed to a frown. "Sith, your feet are frozen!"

"I told you that already! These patrols are killing me... aaah!"
Circulation slowly and painfully returned to Wedge's lower
extremities as Luke rubbed them vigorously. "Ouch!"

"We've got to get you warm, Antilles," announced Luke as he
stripped him of all but his undershorts and bundled him under
the covers.

Wedge grinned as the warmth of the bedding began to penetrate
his frigid skin. "I can think of a way you could warm me up." His
grin widened as he watched Luke strip off his sleep-clothes
before squirming in beside him, hissing in a breath every time
his skin touched Wedge's. Warm fingers carefully slipped his
shorts down his legs, stroking his thighs, knees, and calves as
they went.

With an immediacy that made Wedge flinch, Luke's mouth
settled on his rapidly hardening erection, surrounding him with a
moist warmth that quickly heated his chilled body to the core. He
groaned loudly, tugging the covers up over his exposed
shoulders. "Oooh, you read my mind."

Luke mumbled something about every part of Wedge being cold.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

The sucking resumed, sending shivers through Wedge's body
that were nothing to do with the low air temperature. Closing his
eyes, he settled his head back deeper into the pillow and
allowed his lover to pull him along the familiar path that led to
paradise. Icy fingers brushed coldly against his stomach as he
reached for Luke, for the desperately needed point of contact.
Silky hair slipped through his fingers as he barely touched
Luke's head, following the movements as he slowly slid up and
down, licking and suckling as his hands kneaded Wedge's
thighs apart.

The warm mouth left him briefly, agonizingly. "Come for me."
Luke's whispered command blew a tiny breath over the inflamed
organ. Then the moist heat was back, surrounding him and
drawing him higher; warm fingers gently probing him, begging
for entrance... slipping inside... touching... caressing...

Wedge climaxed with an open-mouthed groan, twisting and
arching off the bed as his euphoria peaked and sent a rush of
warmth from his head to his toes.

The covers moved smoothly as Luke kissed his way up his
abdomen and chest. Finally he was nose to nose with Wedge, a
smug grin plastered over his face. "Warm yet?"

"Warmer," replied Wedge. "You?"

Luke lowered his head and kissed his lover hungrily. "Kinda
hot."

"You can say that again, Skywalker." Gazing into darkened blue
eyes, Wedge slowly and deliberately pulled his knees to his
chest in a familiar mute invitation.

A nod, followed by the hasty application of some lube. Then
another kiss, gentle at first then more aggressive as Luke
pushed carefully into his lover's body. A pause as their gazes
locked once more. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
growled Luke.

The Corellian's only answer was to grab the back of Luke's neck
and pull him down for another passionate kiss, capturing his
rapturous moan as they joined completely.

Pulling, pushing, slowly, gently, each thrust drives us toward an
ecstasy beyond that created by any intoxicant. Lips touching,
tongues entwining - separated only by a film of sweat on
over-sensitive skin. Faster and harder; hips tilting; give me...
more.

Moaning... begging... cursing... pleading...

The look of intense pleasure on Luke's face as he came was
enough to set off Wedge's second orgasm, and the two men
held each other tightly as the delightful waves that washed
through their bodies slowly ebbed away.

Finally, after bestowing one last, tender kiss, Luke disentangled
himself from his lover and spooned in behind him, pulling
Wedge's back firmly against his chest. "You must be warm by
now."

"Yeah. A bit sticky, though."

"Oops." Luke stretched an arm out of the bed and snagged
some discarded clothing to clean them up. "Better?"

"Mmm..." Wedge sighed contentedly as he settled down to
sleep, Luke's hand grasped firmly in his own. If only life could
stay this way, warm and happy and safe. All it would take would
be for the Empire to crumble sooner rather than later, then he
and Luke could move somewhere warmer and just be together...

"I had another dream." Luke's murmur was so quiet it was
almost inaudible.

Wedge fought the sudden tension that threatened to take over
his muscles. Luke's dreams were becoming more and more
frequent; occasionally they even appeared to be prophetic. They
frightened Luke, and that was enough to engender fear in
Wedge. Neither had told anyone else of their existence. "What
kind of dream?"

"I don't know." The words whispered against Wedge's neck and
Luke's fingers tightened. "There were shadows everywhere so I
couldn't see clearly. But I could hear shouting and laser blasts,
and I could smell burning..."

"It's just a dream, Luke. A nightmare." His words sounded
hollow, but he had to say them anyway.

"I know. I just wish I understood what they meant."

"They probably mean you're working too hard."

"Maybe." Luke sighed and snuggled in closer. "I feel like I have
all this power inside me, Wedge. And I can't even control it, let
alone use it. Sometimes I think it's just going to burst out of me,
like some huge explosion, and everyone I care about will be hurt
or killed, and I could have stopped it, if only I'd known how..." His
words stumbled to a halt. "I wish I could talk to Ben about it."

"You're not going to hurt anyone, Luke."

"Not deliberately, no..."

"There you are, then." Wedge ran a hand soothingly up and
down Luke's arm. "It was a bad dream, that's all. We're safe -
you're safe."

Luke kissed his lover's neck. "I guess you're right."

"Of course I am."

Another kiss and a heavy sigh. "We'd better get some sleep. I'm
on patrol tomorrow, and I'll need you well rested so you can
warm me up when I get back."

Wedge grinned. "Yes, sir!"

*****

PART FOUR - THREE DAYS BEFORE THE BATTLE OF HOTH

Fear. Pure, concentrated fear - not the fear of a pilot in battle,
when there is at least a veneer of control and the distraction of
activity, but the unadulterated fear that is only produced by death
itself.

He's out there. Alone. And the chances against his survival are
astronomical.

The door announcer buzzed, jolting Wedge out of the morbidity
that had had him speculatively eyeing his blaster for the past
half-hour. "Yeah?"

"Wedge? Wedge Antilles?" A petite figure dressed all in white
stepped slowly into the room. "I... I hope you don't mind..."

Wedge leaped to his feet, surprise stinging him into action.
"Princess Leia!"

She smiled, and could almost have pulled off `happy' if it weren't
for the worry-lines creasing her brow and the unshed tears
glistening in her eyes. "I... I'm sorry. I asked around - if there
was anyone particularly close to Luke - and they told me you
were..." She trailed off, her brown eyes searching his.

At the mention of his lover's name, all the energy seemed to
leave Wedge in a rush and he sat heavily on the edge of his bed.
Their bed. "We're friends..."

The princess moved silently until she stood directly in front of
him, her gray boots dominating his vision. "Just friends?"

From anyone else, the words might have sounded accusatory;
pilots in the same squadron were officially forbidden from
forming intimate relationships with each other. Although Luke
and Wedge had decided that this particular rule did not apply to
the Rogues, they had also chosen not to publicize their affair.

"Just friends?" Leia's reiteration was spoken in the same gentle
tone of voice she'd used the first time.

Ah, well - the ranat had to escape the bag sometime. "More than
friends. We've been sleeping together."

"Oh." She sat down beside him, her weight shifting the mattress
only slightly, her hand warm on his shoulder. "I should have
known, I suppose. Shouldn't be so busy that I don't notice when
a friend has found someone..." She sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, I
didn't mean to intrude. I just don't want to be alone right now,
and I guessed you might need some company..."

He looked up at her then, and saw her gaze had settled on the
blaster that lay on the perfectly made bed opposite. "I wasn't
going to shoot myself."

"No?" For a moment, she reminded him of Luke - their eyes
might be a different color, but both could produce a piercing
stare that ripped lies and half-truths from the recipient's brain
and prompted the truth.

A shrug. "Not just yet, anyway. I was going to wait, to... to see..."
His voice cracked, and he forced himself to breathe deeply, to
fight back the tears. The pain was too much, too hard to bear.
He could feel it inside his body, a solid block dragging him
down, engulfing his heart and squeezing his lungs.

An arm slid around his shoulders. "He'll be okay."

"How? How will he be `okay'?" Wedge forced the words out
through clenched teeth. "If his comm or his transmitter were
working, we'd have picked them up by now. He's got no
overnight gear with him - have you any idea how low the
temperature gets out there?"

The princess's arm tensed around him, her fingers digging into
his upper arm. "He has the Force..."

"The Force? The Force gives him bad dreams and makes him
feel inadequate. The Force isn't going to save him..."

"...and he has Han."

He saw it then, saw something familiar in her expression. "Are
you in love with Luke?"

"No." A smile accompanied her gentle denial. "I care about him,
but..."

"Captain Solo, then?"

"No!"

"Sorry. I just thought..." He plucked anxiously at the material of
his flightsuit, teasing wrinkles into ridged peaks, worrying at the
resilient fabric with a finger nail. "I'm his wingman. I should
have been the one to go out after him."

"You were asleep," Leia reasoned quietly. "Han was right there
in the hanger..."

"Someone should have woken me."

Her free hand slipped into his, his fingers automatically closing
around hers. "Han will find him, Wedge. I know he will. He has
to."

"I wish there was something I could do. I feel so helpless."

"The shield doors are closed. All we can do is wait."

He nodded wordlessly and was glad when the princess lapsed
into silence beside him. Muffled echoes of distant activity
bounced down the corridor outside, but he shut them out,
concentrating on the hushed stillness of the room and the
unmoving figure beside him. Waiting there all night wouldn't be
so difficult - certainly not as difficult as surviving the frozen
wastes of Hoth. He'd try to remember the good times, and hope
against all logic that they weren't over forever...

The harsh, repetitive beep of a comlink startled both of them;
with an embarrassed grin, Leia disentangled her hand from
Wedge's and pulled the offending device out of a pocket.
"Organa."

"Princess, we're having a little trouble in hanger four..." The
metallic resonance of the comlink couldn't disguise the
speaker's agitation. "We're trying to get the snowspeeders
working, but Captain Solo's co-pilot is making the job... umm...
difficult."

"I'll be right there." Standing up, she pulled at Wedge's arm until
he, too, rose. "Come on. We're not going to do each other much
good sitting here. You might as well come and help me calm
Chewbacca down."

"But I can't speak Wookiee..."

She lifted her chin defiantly towards him. "You can help fix a
speeder, can't you?"

"Yes." They'd turned down his offer of help before, but with the
princess by his side... "I can do that."

"Let's go, then. As soon as it's light and the temperature's up,
we can get those speeders out. We will find them."

"Of course we will."

Hang on, my love. Hang on.

*****

PART FIVE - DIRECTLY BEFORE THE BATTLE OF HOTH

Floating unconscious, as much of your skin exposed to the
life-giving bacta as is physically possible, you look... serene. At
peace. I hope the dreams don't disturb you here. The med bay
is deserted and quiet, and I can sit with you undisturbed - even
Two-Onebee has given up trying to make me leave. The only
sound is the hum of the tank's generator and the gentle bubbling
of the fluid, but I would not have those be silent.

You almost died, Luke. Almost left me. I still can't quite believe
you survived.

They say you were lucky; lucky to be found by Solo, lucky that
the temperature stopped the bleeding, lucky that the speeder
found you so quickly the next morning. Well, I'm a Corellian and
luck is part of my culture. That wasn't luck - someone or
something was watching over you.

I learned many things, that night. Your friend, the princess, is a
truly gifted person, able to think of everyone else before herself
and achieve what others claim is impossible. I can see why you
care about her so much. And I learned some Wookiee - `stop,'
`no,' and `put him down,' come to mind. Shame we can't fit
Chewbacca in an X-wing. I learned more about the inner
workings of a snowspeeder than I'm ever likely to need, and I
learned that Carlist Rieekan is not as unemotional as he likes to
make out.

And one more thing. I learned that I love you.

Don't leave me again.

It was the affectionate smile that greeted Wedge as he entered
the med bay that finally managed to put an end to three solid
days of worrying. He grinned as he crossed to Luke's bedside.
"Sorry I wasn't here when they pulled you out of the tank."

"S'okay."

"I was on patrol." He dipped his head to accept a gentle kiss,
careful to avoid the lacerations still visible on Luke's face. "Hey!
Either they've scented the bacta, or you're wearing perfume,
Skywalker."

"Leia kissed me."

Wedge's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "She did? Why?"

The smug grin on Luke's face quickly transformed into a teasing
smile. "To rile Han, of course." He pulled Wedge in for another
kiss. "Jealous?"

"No. But that explains why I just passed Han looking as pissed
off as a Mon Cal at a Quarren fish-festival." The kiss deepened
and his tongue curled into Luke's mouth as he became more
confident that he wouldn't hurt the injured man. "How are you?"

"Sore. Disorientated." Luke wiggled a finger in his right ear.
"Ticklish. I've never been immersed in bacta before."

"I'd rather you didn't let it happen again."

"I'll do my best." His fingers crept down Wedge's arm and
whispered across the skin of his hand. "What about you?"

"I'm... uh... okay, I guess. You had me panicking for a while,
there."

"Sorry." Fingers intertwined and lips met once more, confident
and reassuring. With practiced ease, Luke's hand unzipped
several centimeters of Wedge's flightsuit and slipped inside, the
fingers trailing softly over a hardening nipple.

Wedge caught the roaming hand as it slid down over his
abdomen. "You're just out of the bacta, Skywalker. You're not
supposed to be horny."

"You shouldn't believe everything the med droids tell you,"
murmured Luke, removing his hand and tugging impatiently at
Wedge's flightsuit.

With a loud sigh, Wedge gave in and sat on the bed beside
Luke. "But you're injured - they said you got frost-bite."

"All the more reason to check everything works," whispered Luke
as he nuzzled Wedge's ear and rubbed an enthusiastic hand up
and down his thigh.

"It might not... ah... work?"

Luke immediately stopped his ministrations. "I don't know." He
lifted the bedcover and the two men peered carefully beneath.

"It looks the same," said Wedge eventually, licking his lips.
"Does it feel any different?" He tentatively reached out and ran a
finger over the object of their mutual scrutiny.

"Oh... ah... it feels... umm... good..."

"Blood flow doesn't seem to be a problem."

"Mmmm." Luke leaned forward, his voice a barely audible
whisper in Wedge's ear. "Did you lock the door?"

"We are not having sex. You're not well enough."

"Did you?"

Wedge could feel his heart attempting to pound its way up out of
his chest. His tongue snaked out over his lips again. "Yes."

Luke's grin threatened to wrap itself around the back of his head.
Catching his bottom lip between his teeth, he gazed imploringly
up at Wedge through too-long hair. "Please?" His hips moved
sensuously to emphasize the request. "You can't just look at me
and touch me and then not do anything about it."

Sighing heavily, Wedge slid down the bed and settled himself
between his lover's legs. "Okay, I'll take care of this," he said as
he ran a hand softly up Luke's burgeoning erection. "But that's it
- you're not strong enough to do anything else."

An expression of extreme self-satisfaction settled on Luke's face
as he relaxed back onto the pile of pillows, his hands behind his
head. "You sure you don't want me to reciproca-a-a-ate... ah!"

A heat creeps through me as I minister to you, the warmth of
true affection. I close my eyes so I can concentrate, my lips and
tongue tracing the velvet texture I know so well, my ears ringing
with the tiny, beautiful sounds you can't stop yourself from
producing. Something has changed since the last time I did this
for you, something profound.

This is no longer just sex. It's a form of worship.

Luke's shout echoed off the bare walls, but his partner was too
busy to worry if anyone heard or not.

Finally, Wedge sat up, licking his lips then swiping them dry with
a sleeve. "Better?"

Luke smiled, his eyes still dark from climax. "Oh, yeah." He
raised a languid hand and indicated the prominent tent in the
front of Wedge's flightsuit. "You want me to get that?"

"No, I'll be fine." Scooting up the bed, Wedge pulled him into a
hug. "But hurry up and recover. I want you back in my bed."

"Mmm."

As Luke settled into his loose embrace, Wedge tilted his head
back and silently thanked the galaxy, the Force, and every deity
he could think of for the life of this one person that meant so
much to him. His world had been turned upside-down when he
thought he'd lost Luke, and only now did it feel as if it had righted
itself once more. He tightened his arms around the young
man's shoulders as his cheek rested against soft, blonde hair.

"There's something I need to tell you, Wedge."

"Sounds ominous."

"It is."

Wedge paused, not sure he wanted to hear what was coming
next. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going to have to leave soon."

"Leave?" Struggling to keep his voice steady, Wedge swallowed
the lump that had formed in his throat. "To go where?"

"I can't say, not even to you." Luke turned and met his gaze, one
finger touching Wedge's lips to cut short his vocal protest. "I
can't tell anyone. It's incredibly important that I do it this way - I
don't know how I know this, but I do."

Wedge stared long and hard into Luke's eyes, willing him to
disclose more information, yet somehow certain that no more
would be forthcoming. Finally he blew out an acquiescent sigh.
"What can I do to help?"

The corners of Luke's mouth tilted into a smile. "You're
amazing, do you know that?"

"Flattery will get you everywhere." Wedge grinned despite
himself. "Now tell me what I can do. Is some kind of Force
thing? Did you have another dream?"

"Something like that." His head returned to Wedge's shoulder,
his eyes drifting closed. "I may have to slip away suddenly,
without telling anyone."

"Surely you'll have to tell Rieekan or Leia or..." He felt Luke
stiffen in his arms. "You're not going to tell anyone at all, are
you?"

"I'm telling you."

"Luke, you can't. We may be an anti-Imperial rebellion, but we're
still a military unit. That's desertion!"

"I have to do this, Wedge." A note of desperation had crept into
Luke's voice; he raised his head once more, his teeth worrying
at his lower lip. "I have to do it for the Rebellion."

Inhaling a shaky breath, Wedge's gaze traveled over every
centimeter of his lover's face, cataloguing, memorizing,
recalling... "And you can't tell me where you'll be, or how long
you'll be gone?"

"No." Luke placed a feather-light kiss on Wedge's lips. "Please
just trust me."

"You know I trust you," whispered Wedge. He returned Luke's
kiss gently yet thoroughly, his tongue slipping over lips and teeth
and palate, touching and tasting. Remembering. When they
parted, he set their foreheads together. "Go when you have to
go, Luke. I'll talk to Leia and the others, I'll try to explain..."

"And you'll have to keep Rogue Squadron going."

Wedge almost laughed. "Assuming they don't kick me out for
conspiring with you."

"They won't." He reached up with one hand and cupped
Wedge's cheek. "Thank you."

"I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you, too." Luke sighed. "We should be used to this by
now. We've been apart so often."

"Not like this. This feels... different."

"Perhaps it is." A long moment passed as he gazed at Wedge,
blue eyes brimful of sincerity. "I promise you that I will do my
utmost to return to you."

Wedge swallowed the emotion that threatened to block his
airway. "I guess that's as much as you can do." He pulled his
lover into a firm hug. "And try to come back in one piece."

*****

PART SIX - SOME MONTHS AFTER THE BATTLE OF HOTH

He's alive. He's alive. He's alive...

The words whirled through Wedge's brain over and over, a
mantra he didn't dare stop in case it evaporated and took with it
the spark of hope that had kept him sane over the previous few
months.

Alive.

Turning the last corner before the med bay, he almost ran down
the diminutive figure striding the opposite way. "Princess! I'm
sorry - I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Me neither." She looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes, the
hint of a smile dawning along with recognition. "Wedge? Luke's
been asking for you."

"He has?" Delight that he hadn't been forgotten warred with the
fear the rumor-mongers had instilled in him over the past few
days; days he'd spent fighting stubborn bureaucrats and
narrow-minded officers determined to keep him away from the
starship that held the man he loved. "How is he?"

A shaky sigh. "What have you heard?"

"Not much. I just got back from a run to Bothawui and no one will
tell me anything." Except for the gossips: Luke deserted;
Luke's in prison; Luke's dead...

She nodded absent-mindedly, as if trying to choose her words.
"Physically, well, I guess he'll recover. He lost a hand, but he's
been fitted with a prosthetic, and the graft has taken..."

A hand? He lost a hand? Bile rose in his throat; he fought to
keep it down and to disguise the shaking that threatened to
paralyze him. He realized the princess was still talking.

"But, mentally..." She shrugged her shoulders, her mouth a tight
line. "I have no idea." Their eyes met again, and Wedge
experienced a sudden affinity with the young woman he hadn't
felt since one angst-ridden night on Hoth. "He's hiding
something, Wedge. I just know it."

"Maybe he'll talk to me."

"Perhaps." She laid a slender hand on his arm. "I hope so."

Luke was alone in the med bay when Wedge walked in, his
nose centimeters from the huge transparisteel window that
dominated the room. He either ignored or didn't hear Wedge's
entrance, just kept staring out into space, his gaze directed
somewhere beyond his own reflection.

Wedge's breath caught in his throat at the sight of his erstwhile
lover seemingly surrounded by stars, as if he were at the very
center of the galaxy itself. He looked like he belonged there;
larger than life, unencumbered by mortal constraints. For a long
moment, Wedge simply stood and watched, drinking in the
scene before him. He'd dreamed of this moment, tried to
imagine what he'd do and say if he came face to face with Luke
again, but now all his rehearsed conversations fled from his
mind and he grappled with words that slithered eel-like out of his
grasp. He took a deep breath. "Hi."

"Wedge?" Luke continued to stare at the star-strewn vista,
cradling his right hand carefully in his left. "Wedge." His voice
cracked and he made a tiny choking noise.

In seconds, Wedge was by his side, pulling him in, hugging him
as if he didn't dare let go. "It's okay. I'm here."

But Luke's arms didn't return the embrace, and when his head
lifted from Wedge's shoulder, his eyes were dry. A tiny smile
tugged at his lips but couldn't quite settle there. "You're just as I
remembered you. You haven't changed."

"You have." He slowly ran his hands up Luke's arms, outlining
tense muscles under the loose robe that tried to conceal them.
His hands crept along broadened shoulders and skimmed up
Luke's neck, before finally coming to rest cradling his face. "Do
you want to talk?"

Luke's eyes snapped shut, but not before a glimmer of pain
escaped through the lids, raw and intense. Wedge knew that if it
wasn't for the hands that gently held him, Luke would have
turned away. Turned away, and perhaps asked him to leave?

"You don't have to," Wedge whispered. What could make the
normally communicative Luke Skywalker so unbearably reticent?
Had they been apart so long that they could no longer talk to
each other? He swallowed the hard knot that had formed in his
throat; was their relationship a thing of the past? "I just
thought..."

The eyes snapped open again, tearing Wedge's words from his
throat. So blue; blue as the sky on Yavin, blue as the seas on
Corellia, blue as a stun blast straight to the heart... "I don't know
how much I'm allowed to tell you."

"Then just tell me the unclassified stuff. Have you been letting
Artoo cut your hair again?"

"Oh, Wedge!" The quaver in his voice almost matched the
shaking of his body as he finally wrapped his arms around
Wedge's waist and returned the embrace.

Slowly stroking his back, Wedge buried his face in Luke's hair,
reacquainting himself with his unique scent. Okay, so humor
worked. Don't mention the serious stuff, keep the topic light, and
we might get somewhere. Diplomacy - how hard could it be?

Wedge couldn't think of a single question guaranteed to be
repercussion free.

"I thought of you a lot, you know." Luke's voice came from
somewhere around Wedge's neck. "I missed you."

Relief flooded through Wedge. Luke still cared about him;
whatever kind of relationship they had, it wasn't over. "I missed
you, too."

A long pause. Finally Luke raised his head, his eyes searching
Wedge's features. "I... my hand..."

"I know," whispered Wedge. "Leia told me." His head tilted to
one side. "May I...?"

Hesitantly, Luke dropped his arms from their comfortable
position around Wedge's body. Cradling his right hand in his left
once more, he slowly raised it, as if for Wedge's inspection. "It
feels... strange," he murmured. "Like I can control it, but it's not
truly a part of me."

Wedge carefully took the hand in his own and ran a thumb over
the palm's artificial creases. "It looks good." The fingers flexed
automatically at his touch. He raised his eyes to meet Luke's,
and the air between them seemed to thicken with the obvious
unspoken question.

Luke's gaze dropped first. "I got some other injuries, too. Cuts
and bruises, nothing broken..."

"You want to tell me how you lost your hand?"

"I... I'm not sure..."

Wedge caught Luke's chin between thumb and forefinger and
gently tilted his head back up. "Tell me."

Blue eyes tore into Wedge, eyes that were at once familiar and
yet unknown. "It hurts, Wedge."

"Your hand?"

"No. My memories." He let out a shuddering sigh. "It was
Vader. I fought Vader, and I lost."

Incredulity struck him dumb for only a moment. "Darth Vader?
You fought Darth Vader? How?"

"My lightsaber. I... we dueled, and he cut off my hand..." Finally
the deluge of tears broke through the barriers that had held them
in check - real heart-breaking, gut-wrenching tears, loud and
seemingly inconsolable.

Fighting his own paralysis, Wedge steered him towards the bed.
He'd never seen Luke like this - not after screaming nightmares
or friends' deaths - never. Luke Skywalker was falling apart, and
Wedge's heart was doing the same. Sitting them both down, he
wrapped his arms around his friend and held him.

The tears subsided surprisingly quickly and sobbing was
replaced by shaky breaths and the occasional sniff.

"What happened, Luke?" Wedge's words whispered into Luke's
hair. "What did that bastard do to you?"

Another sniff. "I... I don't..."

"Did he torture you?"

"No. Not physically, anyway." Luke's left hand clamped around
his right wrist. "Apart from this, of course." He sighed and wiped
his sleeve across his face. "He tried to turn me, to make me like
him. A servant of the Emperor. He told me things..."

Wedge's hands settled once more on Luke's jaw and turned his
face. Blue, tear-filled eyes focused on Wedge; eyes, he
suddenly realized, that were looking to him for answers. "No one
can ever make you like that, Luke. Not Vader, not the Emperor
himself. You are a good person..."

"I have evil inside me, just like everyone else," whispered Luke.
"I get angry, I feel jealousy, I want to avenge..."

"That doesn't make you evil."

"But it's there. And if I give in to it, the Force will still flow through
me. But it will be turned against my friends, against all that is
good in the galaxy."

"Then don't give in. Fight it."

"I don't think that's the answer." One almost-steady hand rose to
caress Wedge's cheek. "He hurt Leia and Han and Chewie.
Hurt them because of me. I don't think I could bear it if he hurt
you."

"You would have to." He bent forward and gently kissed him,
their lips barely touching. "You'd have to cope, to go on without
me, if necessary."

"I need you, Wedge."

"And I need you. But so does the Rebellion and the rest of the
galaxy, and they matter more than I do." He silenced Luke's
automatic protest with another kiss. "You're home now. Safe."

"Leia needs me. She's fallen in love with Han, but Vader gave
him to a bounty hunter..."

"Leia's in love with Han?"

"Yes."

Wedge couldn't suppress a teasing smile. "This wouldn't have
anything to do with the jealousy you mentioned earlier, would it?"

"Idiot." Luke's answering smile quickly disappeared when he
pulled Wedge in for a passionate kiss, their lips and tongues
tracing familiar patterns against each other, a private dance of
reassurance. When they finally parted, Luke rested his forehead
against Wedge's. "I have to be strong for Leia."

"Then be strong for her," whispered Wedge, his finger tracing the
cleft in Luke's chin. "Hold her when she cries, sit with her when
she can't sleep, listen to her when she needs to talk." His gaze
flicked up to meet Luke's. "Then come back to me and let me be
strong for you."

"You sure you can handle that, Antilles?"

"I'm a Rogue and a Corellian. I can handle anything."

*****

This part is very much NC-17.

PART SEVEN - SOME MONTHS AFTER THE BATTLE OF HOTH

He moved with the grace of a feline, his actions fluid yet tightly
controlled as he used a length of narrow metal pipe to deflect
bolts flung at him by not one, but four training remotes. Rivulets
of perspiration ran down his bare back, following the curve of
muscles and spine before disappearing into the fabric
wraparound belt that cinched his leggings to his waist. Each
sudden movement of his head caused a spray of sweat drops
from damp-darkened hair and from the ends of the blindfold tied
over his eyes.

Wedge watched his lover silently from the door, his pupils
dilated, his breathing barely perceptible. One hand slowly rose
to wipe away the moisture that had gathered at the corner of his
mouth.

"I know you're there, Antilles." A sudden flurry of bolts induced a
grunt of effort, followed by a yelp of pain as one managed to get
through the young Jedi's lightening-fast reflexes. "Off!"

The four remotes drifted to the floor of the training room, their
standby lights blinking an off-beat rhythm.

"Gods, Luke, that was amazing! How do you do it?"

"It wasn't amazing, it was a pain in the rear." Luke yanked off his
blindfold and rubbed his stinging rump. "Literally." The pipe
clattered noisily to the floor. "I miss my lightsaber."

"I hope I didn't put you off."

"I'm supposed to be able to split my concentration," Luke replied
with a sardonic grin. "But I guess you're a bit more distracting
than I'm used to."

Wedge managed to refrain from wrestling Luke to the floor and
taking him then and there. But only just. "How's the hand?"

"Not bad, actually." Luke peered first at the palm, then the back
of his right hand. "Two-Onebee said it would take a couple of
weeks for my body to adjust, and lo and behold..." He held up
his hand in Wedge's direction. "It works."

"It was certainly working a moment ago." He folded his arms
tightly across his t-shirted chest, as if he could physically hold in
the emotions that threatened to burst out. "I know you said you
were training while you were gone, but I don't think I realized how
much you've changed until now..."

Bare feet padding quietly on the floor, Luke walked towards him,
stopping when they were an arm's length apart. "I'm still me,
Wedge. Still Luke."

His scent was in Wedge's nostrils now, doing crazy things to his
mind. And to his body. He swallowed the lump that had formed
in his throat. "I know you are."

"So when are you going to stop treating me like some delicate
crystal ornament that's going to shatter at any moment?"

"I... I don't know what you mean..."

"Yes, you do," whispered Luke, his head tilting to one side. "I
know I've not been easy to live with since I returned. And the
nightmares... well, I guess they'll never go away. They're a part
of me now, like this hand." He reached out and ran a finger
down the length of Wedge's arm, his eyes following its path as it
trailed across rigid muscles. "Do you know what I missed most
while I was away?"

Lungs burning, Wedge had to force air inwards before he could
manage to speak. "No."

Luke's finger crept up Wedge's other arm and across his chest,
taut shirt material barely dragging. "I missed the anticipation, the
hope that you'd be at home when I got back from a mission."
The finger lingered on a shoulder, tracing tiny circles. "I missed
waking up with you, too. I know we didn't get the chance as often
as we would have liked, but I don't think I told you how much it
meant to me. You're so beautiful when you're asleep."
Shoulder... neck... jawline... "I missed the sex, of course,
although probably not as much as I thought I would. Swimming
in cold water teeming with carnivorous wildlife is pretty good at
killing the sex drive. Well, it worked most of the time."

Wedge couldn't take his eyes off him, off the intensity of his
expression as he watched his own finger tracing a path over
Wedge's skin.

Blue eyes finally flicked up and met Wedge's gaze, and the air
between them seemed to condense as the rest of the galaxy
drifted into the ether... "But most of all, I missed being inside
you. And even though we've been sleeping together since I got
back, we haven't... you haven't..."

Oh, sweet Goddess!

Your mouth on my mouth, your body pressed tightly to mine - I
don't even remember taking you in my arms. I want to posses
you, to absorb you, to make you a part of me forever. I slip my
tongue into your mouth and coax yours into mine, my hand
clamped to the back of your neck, unwilling and unable to allow
you to even consider escape.

I want you.

Their lips barely apart, they inhaled each other's breath.

"I could really use a shower," murmured Luke.

*****

Warm and soft, the water trickled over Wedge's skin as he
braced his arms against the shower wall, Luke Skywalker
pounding into him from behind. Steam filled his lungs as he
sucked in deep breaths and lost himself in the steady, gratifying
rhythm. He shivered when he felt Luke's tongue slide up his
spine.

"You're gorgeous when you're wet, Antilles."

An involuntary moan rumbled up from his chest and he
squeezed his eyes closed, trying to delay the climax that
threatened to overwhelm him.

Instantly Luke stilled, his hands gripping Wedge's hips with
bruising firmness. "Sith, I'm not going to last long."

Luke's harsh breathing filled Wedge's ears, a counterpoint to his
own gasps for air. He twisted his head to one side, his wet hair
plastering itself to his cheek. "Me neither. Just do it."

Luke growled, a low, animalistic noise that was almost enough
to send Wedge over the edge by itself. One of the bruising
hands relinquished its hold on Wedge's hip and settled instead
on his erection, an unsteady pressure that rose and fell with
each subsequent thrust. Once, twice, three times...

Wedge's climactic yell echoed off the shower walls, then found a
different echo in Luke's shout of release before the two men slid
clumsily to the floor. Dragging himself over to the nearest wall,
Wedge pulled Luke towards him, settling him between his legs,
and caressing his back and neck. "Better?"

"Oh, yeah." Luke nodded wearily, then turned his head to accept
a brief kiss. "I really, really needed that."

"Me, too, I guess."

The two sat in companionable silence listening to the water as it
rained on the floor and gurgled down the drainage holes.
Eventually, Luke heaved a sigh. "We're wasting water. Better
turn it off."

"One day, I am going to take you somewhere where it rains all
the time, where there are no water shortages and the local
population are glad to get rid of the stuff," announced Wedge,
stretching up to the controls on the wall, turning the water off, and
replacing it with a hot-air dry cycle. "We have to cure you of this
desert-dweller mentality."

Luke leaned back into his lover's embrace, his eyes drifting shut.
"When the war's over, you can take me anywhere you want."

Smiling, Wedge kissed the nearest available piece of skin, then
pillowed his head against Luke's shoulder. The hot-air blowers
around the room continued to pump out a heated, soporific
breeze and Wedge could feel himself settling into
semi-consciousness, his body warm inside and out...

"Force, I'm going to miss you."

Eyes shut tight, Wedge strengthened his grip around Luke's
chest. "You're leaving again?"

Luke's arm rose and wrapped itself around Wedge's neck, his
fingers stroking the nape. "I told you I'd have to go some time.
We have to rescue Han..."

"I just didn't think it would be so soon," said Wedge, trying not to
snap. "I thought you were going to wait until Chewbacca and this
Calrissian character sent word from Tatooine - that is where
they're headed, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I'd rather attempt a rescue before Fett gets to Jabba's."
Luke's fingers continued their soothing caress. "And I have
other things to do..."

Wedge rubbed his lips gently up and down Luke's shoulder,
acceptance seeping into his brain. "Don't tell me - Jedi things."

"Yes." He twisted slightly and claimed a wet, open-mouthed
kiss. "I'm sorry. I don't know why you put up with me."

Because I love you. "No, I guess I don't know, either."

Luke pulled away slightly, his expression intense. "You don't
have to wait for me, Wedge," he whispered. "I mean, I'm away
for months on end, then right after I show up, I'm off again for
who knows how long. I'm sure you get plenty of offers..."

"No."

"What - you don't get offers or you don't take them up?"

Wedge's hand drifted over Luke's jawline, but he was unable to
meet his gaze, his eyes riveted on the soft, pale skin of a
shoulder. "Did we just have a goodbye fuck? Are you telling me
that you want to end... us?"

Luke leaned in and brushed his cheek against Wedge's. "No,"
he whispered. "I always want you here, waiting for me, ready to
pull me together when I fall apart." He pressed a kiss to
Wedge's ear. "But it wouldn't be fair of me to ask that of you..."

"Is there someone else? You can tell me, Luke - we never said
we'd be exclusive."

A short laugh. "I don't have time for anyone else, Antilles."

"I'm not good enough for you, then. Has someone said
something? You should be mixing with royalty and diplomats,
not some orphaned Corellian pilot with the ambition of a
Gamorrian tree-snail..."

"Wedge." Luke's hand took a firm grip of Wedge's chin and
forced him to look up. "I don't give a womprat's ass what other
people think. You took in a naive, mixed-up farm kid from a
backwater planet and made him believe he could be someone,
could do something useful. Bad times, good times, boring
times - you've always been there for me, right by my side. Some
people are frightened of me - I know it, I can sense it - but not
you. I'm different..." His hand dropped from Wedge's chin. "If
anything, I'm not good enough for you."

Pulling him back into his arms, Wedge buried his face in Luke's
neck. "Go rescue your friend, Jedi. I wish I could come with you."

"Me, too." He sighed and then smiled reassuringly. "I'll be back
before you know it. It's a simple rescue mission, no Imperial
involvement. What could possibly go wrong?"

*****

PART EIGHT - DIRECTLY BEFORE THE BATTLE OF ENDOR

"The Emperor has made a critical error, and the time for our
attack has come."

This is it. The big one. The battle that could finish the war
and defeat the Empire.

Wish you were here with me, Luke, flying on my wing. But maybe
it's better you're not - I don't suppose we'll all be coming home
after this mission. I have no idea where you are right now, but I
hope you realize I'm thinking of you.

Leia told me what you did, how you rescued Han and escaped
the Hutt. She said you were magnificent. What I wouldn't have
given to see you in action.

Of course, now Han and Leia have taken on the most difficult,
fool-hardy, near-suicidal... vital mission in the whole plan; taking
out the shield generator. Don't give them much chance of living
through it, but hopefully they'll be able to get it down long enough
for us to blast that Death Star and the Emperor back to whatever
hell they sprang from.

But at least you're safe. At least you're not...

...oh, shit.

*****

Like Rebel pilot quarters the galaxy over, the room was about as
sparsely furnished as possible. Two beds (one unused), two
storage lockers, an information workstation - barely enough to
call it home. Occupants shipped in and then shipped out again,
their worldly possessions strictly limited depending on their
mode of transport.

Wedge sat stiffly on the perfectly made spare bed and glared at
Luke's black-clad form. "You can't be serious. You're the last
Jedi in the entire galaxy - you're too valuable to risk on a mission
like this."

Luke paused in unpacking his carryall, his back still towards
Wedge. "I'm going where I'm needed."

"Needed?" Wedge leapt to his feet, concern and anger and fear
churning inside him, turning his feelings into an emotional soup.
And yet, professionalism and logic won through. "We need
pilots, Commander. Especially pilots who've been up against a
Death Star before."

An empty ration box bounced forcefully off the bed. "That was a
low blow, Wedge."

"It's the truth. That DS might not be complete, but you can bet
your last credit it'll have a whole bunch of TIEs on board. And
way too many of our fighters and bombers are piloted by raw
recruits who have no idea what they're getting into." Wedge
reached out and brushed his fingertips over Luke's back.
"Please, Luke, come with me..."

"I can't," whispered Luke, turning around and fixing Wedge with a
determined look. "I have to go with Leia."

"You have to go with Leia? Leia has Han now - she doesn't
need you acting like some kind of bodyguard any more."

Luke's gaze dropped to the floor. "It's... more complicated than
you know."

"So enlighten me."

"I don't want to fight, Wedge. Not now. Please..."

"Don't fight me, then. Get your ass into that X-wing of yours and
come with me."

"No. I have to go to Endor, to help Han and Leia and the
others..."

Wedge's last scraps of patience deserted him. "It's suicide,
Luke!"

"No, it's not. There's a very good chance..."

"Oh, please! You'll be quoting me the odds next!"

"Sith! What is your problem, Antilles?" Luke glared angrily. "It's
war - life and death situations are our stock in trade!"

"I don't want you to go!" It wasn't until the echoes died down that
Wedge realized he'd been shouting.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I... I love you." His head dropped dejectedly and he
fought the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. "I love
you, dammit, and I don't want to lose you." Without waiting for a
reply, he turned on his heel and left.

Sitting in the cockpit of his X-wing, Wedge could almost convince
himself it hadn't happened. Had he really just told the one
person he couldn't have that he loved him? Maybe Luke would
forget, maybe he hadn't even heard the words... Wedge hit his
head off the back of the seat a few times in frustration. Of course
he'd heard. And right now Luke was probably trying to figure out
what in the galaxy he'd done to deserve the infatuation of a dumb
pilot he was too busy to spend time with.

Blowing out a sigh, he picked at a loose fleck of paint on the
helmet cradled in his lap. It didn't really matter. They were
probably all going to be dead soon anyway.

"Red Leader." The squawk of the comm jolted him out of his
reverie and almost out of his seat, his helmet thunking off the
stick. A glance at the console showed the call originated from
another Rebel ship. "Red Leader, report."

Puzzled, Wedge flicked the comm switch. Most of the pilots were
still in their quarters making last minute preparations before they
were called. No one knew Wedge was in his fighter. "This is
Red Leader."

There was a short, static-filled pause. "Wedge, it's Luke."

Shit, shit, shit.

Wedge's finger hovered over the cutoff switch; he didn't think he
could take any more embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Wedge."

You're sorry? "What for?"

"For treating you like crap. For not being around. For not telling
you... everything."

"Luke, you don't have to do this. I'm sorry about what I said
earlier - it wasn't fair..."

"I love you, too, Wedge."

Stunned, Wedge gripped his helmet tightly and stared at the
console, hardly daring to believe his ears.

"I think I've always loved you," Luke continued quietly. "I thought
you knew."

"No." Relief and happiness intertwined, fusing and expanding to
become soaring exhilaration as the words Wedge hadn't
realized he'd been longing to hear continued to echo in his head.
...love you...

Luke's sigh hissed over the comm channel. "You mean after all
this time, after all we've been through, you didn't know that I
loved you?"

Wedge swallowed; suddenly the cockpit seemed to contain a lot
less oxygen than it usually did. "You never said."

"I'm from Tatooine. We're not big on sentimentality."

"Oh." Thoughts tumbled over one another in Wedge's brain as
his heart pummeled against his ribs. I love you. We're going
to die. I have to see you... "Luke, where are you?"

"Hanger 57. I'm in the Imperial shuttle, warming up the engines.
I'll... I'll be leaving when Han and the others arrive in a few
minutes."

No time. There was never enough time. "Be careful, Luke. Be
very, very careful."

"I will." A pause. "May the Force be with you, Wedge."

"And you. Always with you."

*****

PART NINE - DIRECTLY AFTER THE BATTLE OF ENDOR

Vader... Anakin... Skywalker... your father...

It's all too much to take in. I want to curl up in a corner
somewhere and ignore what you've just told me. I want to
forget what that monster did to the galaxy, to my family and
friends, and to countless others. How could something so
evil have spawned someone so... you?

But I guess I have to deal with it. I have to protect you. From
those that would punish you because of your father's
crimes. From those that would hide you away so you don't have
to face the galaxy. From yourself...

"You're doing it again, Luke."

"Huh? Doing what?" He looked up at Wedge from his seat by
the Tydirium's viewport, shafts of sunlight, split and
warped from the dense foliage outside, streaking across his
face and torso.

Wedge pushed himself off the cockpit console and uncrossed
his arms as he moved to stand in front of Luke.
"Thinking too much."

Luke smiled enigmatically as he looked up, his expression
surprisingly calm and self-assured. "I have a lot to think
about. I'm the last of the old Jedi, the first of the new. The
Emperor is gone and..."

"...and so is Vader," finished Wedge.

"Anakin," Luke corrected gently, his smile faltering.

Wedge shrugged. "From what you've told me, I reckon Anakin
Skywalker died a long time ago."

"Maybe." Luke's gaze returned to the viewport and the Endorian
forest beyond. "Maybe."

Hunkering down, Wedge settled his hands on Luke's thighs,
squeezing gently to recapture his attention. "I thought we
flew out here to be alone together. To talk."

"We did." His lips made a thin line as he pressed them together.
"I just don't know what to talk about any more."

"Hmm." Wedge grinned wryly. "How about we start with what the
hell happened to your hair?" Reaching up, he
ruffled his friend's neatly combed hair. "There. That's better."

"Hey! It wasn't that bad." Luke made a passable attempt at a
glare. "Better than yours. Looks like you were hit by an
ion cannon."

"My excuse is helmet hair. What's yours?"

"I don't know," replied Luke with a shrug. "Just trying to look
more... controlled, I guess."

"There is such a thing as too much control." Wedge's smile
slowly became more wistful. "You used to be one of the
most impetuous people I knew."

"Do you miss the old days, Wedge?" Luke whispered, his eyes
intent on Wedge's. "When we were just pilots living
from one mission to the next?"

"Sometimes, yes," admitted Wedge, somewhat reluctantly. It
seemed inappropriate - shameful, even - to miss a time
when death surrounded them and took so many of their friends.
"Everything seemed so much simpler back then, more
black and white. Shoot down TIEs. Take out a gun
emplacement. Run cover for a supply freighter. We'd do the job
then go home, wherever `home' was that week. No politics, no
diplomacy..." He grinned suddenly, twin sparks
materializing in his eyes. "I remember the first night you hit on
me."

Luke smiled, the true smile that lit up his whole face; the rare
one few people ever saw. "I only hit on you because you'd
been staring at me all night."

"Couldn't take my eyes off you," confessed Wedge happily. He
reached up with one hand and ran a finger over Luke's
cheek, just barely brushing the skin. "Actually, I'd been watching
you for days, from the moment I first met you on
Yavin. You just didn't notice."

Luke caught his hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. "Oh, but I
did notice. I just didn't have the courage to say
anything to you."

"What changed?"

"Half a bottle of Corellian brandy and Han Solo threatening to tap
into the comm and tell everyone I was a virgin if I
didn't hurry up and get myself laid."

Wedge's mouth dropped open in surprise. He could remember
that first time with Luke as if it were yesterday, and he
could have sworn... "You were a virgin?"

"Not really. But Han's never been one to concern himself with
details." He took Wedge's other hand and held them
both between his palms, his expression serious once more.
"You know, I think I fell in love with you that night."

Heat suffused Wedge's face. "I doubt it. It was probably just
post-coital happy feelings or something."

"When you told me you didn't sleep with pilots, I almost gave up
there and then. You seemed so sure of yourself and I
was just some stupid kid that made a lucky shot..."

"It wasn't luck, Luke. You know that."

Luke didn't seem to hear him. "But every time I looked at you,
your eyes were already on me, and you got slower and
slower at looking away. I sat down beside you, and you touched
my hand and said `just for tonight' - and I was happy.
Then when you finally kissed me..." Luke's head tilted to one
side. "When did you realize you were in love with me?"

He'd adored the man for years, had opened himself to him,
mind, body, and soul; yet still it felt strange to hear Luke
discussing their feelings for each other so candidly. "Umm,
Hoth, I think. When you were missing overnight it felt..."
He swallowed. "It felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach, like I'd
gone all hollow inside. I've never felt like that about
anyone before. I realized I couldn't live without you."

Leaning forward, Luke kissed him gently, his lips scarcely
touching Wedge's. When he pulled back, his eyes were
twinkling. "And before Hoth?"

Wedge grinned widely. "Before Hoth I had a gorgeous bed
partner who was always willing and could keep going all
night." A wry shrug. "And if I'm totally honest, I liked how you
kinda depended on me. No one ever looked up to me
like you did."

"You were easy to look up to. Still are."

"Nah." Wedge shook his head. "You're the one everyone looks
up to now."

Luke's features twisted into a grimace and he shifted
uncomfortably in his seat. "And I hate it, Wedge. The way
everyone looks at me - it's as if the lightsaber I wear gives out
some kind of Jedi aura they can't see beyond. I'm
supposed to be all-knowing, all-powerful..." His gaze dropped.
"You're one of the few people that treats me like I'm a
normal being."

Freeing one of his hands from Luke's grasp, Wedge tilted his
chin back up the few centimeters it had fallen, recapturing
his gaze. Words didn't come easily to Wedge - he'd always
struggled with the complex language of diplomacy and
politics, and sometimes envied his more scholarly friends who
could phrase their thoughts in a single sentence. All
Wedge could do was tell the truth. "I love you, Luke Skywalker."

Luke nodded, his blue eyes steady and composed. "I don't
know what to do, Wedge."

"C'mere." Wedge's voice cracked as his hand slipped to the
back of Luke's neck.

Although their kiss was slow, tenderness quickly escalated into
passion, lips and tongues expressing what words could
not. They stood as one, their bodies pressed firmly together as
the kiss deepened even further.

I can feel your desire, can smell it and even taste it; a force so
powerful it could easily overwhelm me, were it not for
the passion I feel for you in return. You tremble in my arms, your
erection pressed against mine, firm as steel and
begging for release. I want to strip you, to touch and taste you
like I haven't done in such a long time, to have you fuck
me until I scream...

I want...

"What's wrong?" asked Wedge, his brain finally registering that
Luke had stopped kissing him and was beginning to
pull away.

"I... I'm not sure I should..." Breathless and shaking, Luke
pressed his hands to Wedge's chest, his eyes downcast
once more.

Wedge refused to let him go. "I want you," he murmured, his
voice husky with need.

Luke took in a long, deep breath, and when he finally looked
back up, the mask Wedge had only barely been aware of had
slipped back into place. "I'm a Jedi, Wedge. I have
responsibilities, standards I must live up to..."

Understanding clicked into place. "And since when did that
include celibacy?"

"The Jedi have always..."

"We've had this discussion before, Luke," snapped Wedge.
"Just because the Old Republic Jedi opposed emotional
attachments doesn't mean you have to. It certainly didn't do
them much good, did it?"

"But what if I'm wrong?" whispered Luke, a hint of pain creeping
into his eyes. "In the past few months I have learned
how strong I am, what I'm physically capable of. If I so much as
touch the dark side..." He paused and his gaze seemed
to burrow into Wedge. "Maybe it's better if I do withdraw, find
somewhere quiet away from everyone where I can
control it..."

"No!" Anger churned in his gut, and it was all Wedge could do to
stop himself from shaking Luke. "If you do
something wrong, you'll have me and Leia and Han and
Chewie... hell, you'll have half the Rebellion knocking on your
door to tell you about it. We're your friends, Luke. You can't shut
us out."

"But I have to control myself..."

"Control?" Wedge took a step towards Luke, forcing him back
against the bulkhead. For an instant, he wished he could
touch the mysterious power that was the Force, wished that he
could see beyond the blue eyes full of anguish and get
some inkling of what Luke was thinking. But no startling insight,
no telepathic understanding was forthcoming, and he
realized he'd have to rely on guesswork as usual.

"Control?" Wedge growled again, hoping like hell that Luke
wouldn't shove him away too hard. He treated Luke to the
1000-megawatt Antilles glare. "Control this."

And he kissed him.

Your mouth responds to mine instantly, your lips parting for
me like they always have. You taste like summer, like a
forest, like the stars... If I cannot persuade you not to leave me,
at least I will always have the memory of your kiss.

I love you.

I press myself against you, partly to let you know what you'll be
missing, but mostly because I love the feel of you
against me. Our bodies have always fitted together so exactly,
as if they knew something it took us a long time to admit
to each other. I've missed you so much that I still can't quite
believe I've actually got you here. Alive.

I need you.

Your moan sends electricity racing through my body, and my
hands slide down to your hips. Perhaps you can control
yourself, can deny what I know you must feel. But I cannot.

I want you.

Luke's belt fell noisily to the deck but neither man flinched, so
intent were they on each other. Wedge's hands quickly
found their way through layers of clothing to taut stomach
muscles and a high waistband that was no match for his
nimble fingers. They crept under the material to the warm, soft
flesh beneath, wrists easing the trousers down over
buttocks and thighs, over a turgid erection...

"You can't control everything," murmured Wedge against Luke's
cheek, his lips brushing the skin with every syllable.
"Sometimes you just have to let someone else take the lead."
He barely registered Luke's whispered "no" as he slid to
his knees and took him in his mouth, impatiently tugging the
black trousers down further.

Slowly and rhythmically Wedge suckled his lover, lips over skin,
his tongue registering every nuance of texture, first
deep, then shallow... trying to act as if this was identical to all the
other times he'd loved him like this, yet always aware
that Luke hadn't exactly agreed to sex.

"No." Luke's reply was scarcely even a whisper, precarious and
unsure.

Wedge continued regardless. A low moan felt like music to his
ears, and he quickly echoed the moan, humming gently as
he licked and sucked and stroked. He felt a hand settle on his
head, caressing his hair, and he fought down a triumphant
smile. Instead, he relaxed his throat muscles and swallowed
his lover down as far as he could.

"Wedge," Luke breathed; and then he came, his thighs shaking
as he thrust forward involuntarily.

The hand on his head tensed and then relaxed as Wedge
swallowed over and over. Finally it slipped to his shoulder and
he rested his forehead against Luke's thigh, gulping in air. A
long moment passed before he plucked up the courage to
stand and face the consequences of his actions. "Sorry."

Luke was watching him from beneath languid, half-closed
eyelids, his head tipped back against the bulkhead. He blew
out a sigh. "Don't be." One arm reached for Wedge and pulled
him close. "You know me better than anyone else. I
may not always agree with you, but I will always listen."

Wedge managed a weak smile. "I care about you."

"I know." A melting kiss, slow and deliberate. "Do you really
think it'll be alright, Wedge? The old Jedi order lasted
for thousands of years - they must have had their reasons..."

"Luke, we could discuss this until the sun burns out." He
reached up and ran a hand down Luke's jaw. "Until you can
give me a good reason for denying what you are... what we are...
I will always want to be with you, Jedi or not." He
sighed. "Love is natural, Luke. Denying its existence is like
refusing to breathe - it makes no sense and eventually
you'll hurt yourself. You want to play the controlled Jedi knight?
Fine - but you don't have to be him with me. Just be
Luke."

A long pause. "Hmm." Luke's mouth curved into a sensuous
smile and he reached down to fondle Wedge's erection.
"You know what we haven't done in a long, long time?"

"What?" replied Wedge, his breath hitching in his throat.

Luke brushed his lips across Wedge's, more a touch than a
kiss. "You want me to lose control? Okay." He raised his
lashes and there was more than a hint of a challenge in his
eyes. "Fuck me."

The Gods must love me. What did I ever do to get this lucky?

I sink into you further and watch your eyes widen with pleasure. I
love watching your eyes when we have sex - they
seem to go through every known shade of blue. And those little
sounds you make when you breathe just make me move
faster, pushing deeper into you as I reach down to kiss you. I
may not be able to read your mind, but I can read your
body's reactions like an old, favorite novel.

Yes, I can make you lose control.

Your eyes drift closed as you reach up and grab the handrail over
your head with both hands, and your chest swells
as you suck in a breath. You're close now, very close. The
muscles in your arms bulge as you tense up, and I
suddenly realize I'm close, too. I concentrate on those muscles,
the line and form and movement, as your hands
tighten and your back arches.

Come on, Luke. I want... I need to see you come.

I press on, again and again and again... watching as ecstasy
begins to overcome you. Your eyes are squeezed shut
and you push back towards me, your body hunting for that
feeling, that fleeting moment, the one you would deny
yourself because of someone else's beliefs. Give in, Luke.

Give in.

"Please," whispered Luke, his eyes flicking open to meet
Wedge's gaze. "Please..."

Wedge drove into him as deeply as he could manage, his arms
shaking as he struggled not to collapse onto the man
beneath him. "Come on, Luke," he growled through clenched
teeth. "It's me. You're safe with me."

And suddenly, it was there in his eyes. Trust. "I know." And then
he was arching up once more, a look of total wonder
on his face, wiping away all traces of age, pain, and sadness.
The handrail he gripped squealed a metallic protest as it
buckled under his strength, and a violent shudder ran the length
of his body.

"Yes!" yelled Wedge. Finally. And he, too, gave in and threw
himself into paradise.

Shifting slightly in his lover's arms, Wedge surreptitiously tried to
move his hip further away from the edge of the bench
they were precariously balanced on. "Y'know, I don't think these
things were built for two."

Luke propped his head up on one arm and grinned at him. "I'll
inform the Empire's shuttle designers at once. This
flaw won't go unpunished."

Wedge swatted at Luke's chest and grinned back. "And ask
them to install lube-dispensers while you're at it. If they
want people to go around having sex in their ships they need a
few amenities."

"Yeah, like padded seating."

"And whiskey."

Luke tapped the handrail at his head. "And better quality
restraint bars."

Wedge nodded, his fingers tracing tiny circular patterns on
Luke's stomach as his smile turned pensive. "What happens
now, Luke?"

"To the Rebellion or to us?"

"To us."

Blowing out a sigh, Luke regarded him steadily. "Are you
planning on staying in the military?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation. "It's my life."

"And I guess my life is going to be resurrecting the Jedi order,"
said Luke quietly, running a hand through Wedge's
hair. "At least it will be, once things settle down and it's safe for
me to start hunting out Force-sensitives."

"What do you plan on doing until then?"

Luke didn't answer for a long moment as he meticulously tucked
a lock of dark hair behind Wedge's ear, his expression
solemn. "I had kinda decided to go into retreat, to meditate and
figure out my future. Now I'm not so sure."

"Can I make a suggestion?"

"Of course."

Hauling himself up, Wedge found a small, empty square of the
bench on which to balance his elbow. "I have a mountain
of time off due which Ackbar's been reminding me of on a
monthly basis. How about we take that holiday we always
said we would? Somewhere remote, where we won't be
recognized, and you can meditate to your heart's content."

Luke raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Where?"

"Well, I hear Mon Calamari's nice this time of year. Rebels are
welcome." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Lots of
water."

"I don't know." He swallowed, frown lines creasing his forehead.
"Han and Leia..."

"...can manage fine without you, at least for a few weeks or so."
Wedge dipped down and kissed his chin. "We need a
break, Luke. We're too close to everything to figure out the
present, let alone the future."

It seemed like an eternity to Wedge, lying there watching Luke's
face for any hint of agreement. But the young Jedi's
expression remained impassive, and after several minutes of
silence had passed Wedge seriously wondered if he was just
being teased.

At that very moment Luke's face broke into a huge grin, and he
reached out to pull Wedge in for a thorough kiss.
"Water, you say? I think I like the sound of that."

*****

EPILOGUE - SOME YEARS AFTER THE BATTLE OF ENDOR

Slow, slow, slow...

Wedge groaned as yet another ancient speeder hiccoughed its
way ahead of him in the traffic lane, wobbling precariously
from side to side. Much as he publicly supported the campaign
for safe travel on the newly liberated world of Coruscant,
privately he didn't always agree that the speed restriction laws
should actually apply to him. Especially when he was in a
hurry.

Clenching his teeth in frustration, he pulled his own speeder
back and gave the dilapidated vehicle in front more room,
hoping like hell it was at least capable of staying in one piece
should it need to land suddenly. His gaze quickly swept the
other vehicles in the lane; too many looked like they were ready
for the recycling yard. Even after all the effort the New
Republic had expended in retaking the former Imperial City,
restoring the planet to something resembling its former glory
was going to take a long, long time.

Distant twinkling lights slowly resolved themselves into the
windows and roof lights of towering structures, both old and
newly built. Wedge sighed. At least it was theirs again. At least
Coruscant was free.

One particular building caught his eye as it came into view; a
group of skeletal spires buzzing with construction droids.
The new Jedi temple. Wedge grinned. Almost there.

The traffic lane veered away some distance from the
half-finished construct and Wedge dropped out and sped along
at
roof level, his grin widening with every kilometer the speeder
covered. By the time he reached the building he called
`home', his face was beginning to hurt. Still he kept smiling.

The door to his apartment hissed open at his approach, and
Wedge knew that, yet again, he'd failed to surprise his mate.
"You're up."

"Oh, yes," replied Luke, stretching out his arms and then
dangling them over the back of the couch. "I'm most
definitely up."

"It's the middle of the night." Wedge swallowed hard, struggling
to keep his attention on Luke's face instead of his
obviously tented sleep-shorts. "You should be sleeping."

Luke smiled. "I could sense you coming. I've been waiting for
ages."

Dropping his bag, Wedge shrugged off his jacket and flopped
down beside Luke. "I'm exhausted."

"Beer?"

A nod. "Beer."

"Thought so." Reaching down to the floor beside him, Luke
produced two opened bottles of Corellian ale.

Grinning wryly, Wedge took the proffered bottle. "You read my
mind?"

"Not really. You always want beer when you get home." He took
a long pull from his own bottle. "How was Mon
Calamari?"

Wedge gulped down half of his beer. "Let's see. Asyr caught
some virus and spent the week throwing up. So Gavin
couldn't sleep with her - he was hornier than a Devaronian and
twice as grumpy. Inyri managed to get herself arrested
for propositioning the local security chief." He paused for
another swig of ale. "And Wes and Hobbie got lost on a
recon."

Luke raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Lost?"

"That's what they claim." He drained his bottle. "Of course, we
all know they just found a hotel somewhere and
decided to spend a couple of days in bed."

Reaching out, Luke ran his fingers through Wedge's hair. "So, a
fun time was had by all."

"No. It was boring as hell without you." He leaned into the
caressing hand and smiled. "I feel better now, though."

Luke set his bottle on the floor. "You want to go to bed?"

"Read my mind, Jedi. What do you think?"

My body goes into sensory overload as you thrust into me
again and again, your scent in my nose, your lips almost,
but not quite, touching mine. Making love with you is so familiar -
yet somehow it feels different every time. Your
moans ring in my ears, your hair brushes my forehead, and
inside my body is winding tighter and tighter, ready to
throw me over the edge into oblivion...

I can touch the stars, Luke. I swear it.

I hear your groan as you come, feel your body shuddering
against me. It's the moment you are at your most powerful
- and your most gentle. You whisper my name. I hold you tightly.
I never want to let you go.

I live for you. I would die for you.

I love you.

Their lips touched softly, a tender kiss of completion.

"Missed you."

"Missed you, too."

Sighing heavily, Luke rolled off his bedmate. "How long will you
be home for?"

"Don't know," replied Wedge. "Five days. Maybe ten." He
twisted onto his side and placed a hand on Luke's chest,
watching as it rose and fell with each breath. "Long enough."

"Umm... I may be gone before you have to leave."

"Huh?" Wedge frowned at him. "Gone where?"

Luke gave an apologetic shrug. "The temple dorms are done.
We've got three complete training rooms, one
gymnasium, and half a library. It's time for me to go find some
students."

"Oh." Wedge swallowed down his disappointment and tried not
to sound petulant. "I guess we knew it was going to
happen sometime."

Smiling, Luke pulled him into his arms and hugged him tightly.
"Now, now, Commander. Be professional."

Wedge nipped at Luke's skin. "I'm a professional when I'm
flying. I'm a professional behind my desk. In bed with
you, I can be as childish as I like." Another gentle nip.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"Good." The next nip turned into a fully fledged lovebite, leaving a
dark pink mark on Luke's side. "There. Now
anyone who sees this will know you're taken."

"I was planning on going fully clothed anyway."

"Even better!" replied Wedge with a grin.

Luke laughed. "It seemed the most professional thing to do."

"True." Suddenly, he caught his breath. "I almost forgot. I
brought you a gift." He left the comfort of his lover's
arms and made for the door, trying not to trip over the boots and
clothes scattered on the floor.

"You had time to buy a gift?" Luke propped himself up on his
elbows. "You were bored, weren't you."

His bag was by the door where he'd left it; Wedge quickly found
the tiny package inside and carried it almost
reverentially back to the bedroom. The bed bounced as he
landed on it. "For you."

Silver paper gave way to a small, black cuboid - a hologram
generator. Luke smiled as he located the activation switch
and it flared into life; a half-meter high holo of a Mon Calamarian
beach, complete with sound effects and the smell of
ozone. "It's beautiful," he breathed.

"To remind you of our trip there after Endor."

"What's that?" Luke peered into the glowing scene and tried to
make out the words that were superimposed on the
horizon. A slow smile spread across his face and when his
eyes met Wedge's they all but sparkled. "It's the poem,
isn't it."

Wedge could only manage a nod.

We sat on the beach, you and I, staring at the sunset as the
tide crept slowly out, its every ebb marking a moment of
peace. Nothing else mattered to me - only you in my arms, the
warmth of your back against my chest, and the feel of
your heartbeat under my hand. Perfect. I leaned forwards and
whispered in your ear the words of an old Corellian
love poem, a poem that has been used during betrothal
ceremonies for centuries. You turned and kissed me, and told
me you loved me.

I will never forget that moment. It sustains me when we are
apart and inspires me when we are together.

"Thank you," whispered Luke, pulling Wedge in for an
affectionate kiss. "I love you."

The two men lay together and watched the vision of a planet far
away, each one silently reading the words that would
forever lie etched in their hearts.

I will love you, now and forever
Each morning, each evening, each day
`Till Corellia stops its rotation
`Till the Sun gives out its last ray
`Till the galaxy finishes spinning
`Till the universe goes on its way
In times good and bad, I will love you
I will love you, come what may.

~FIN~