Star Wars is the property of George Lucas and LFL. No profits were made and no disrespect is intended with this fic.



Come What May
Part Five
by Angela Jade


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. &uqot;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."


Continued in Part Six