#( . butthurt out the wazoo but protective nonetheless

[stillsolo]

@vadershope cont. from [ x ]

"yeah, it's a cantina, i'm not surprised." Luke drawls, holding his drink up towards his lips. he looks so serious, though as he takes a drink- far too serious for this situation, because the whole thing makes him want to laugh. he's never seen Han so serious, either. like he's worried that the place is going to somehow contaminate Luke or influence him somehow. it's kinda funny, really. lips twitch upwards into the makings of a smile that he squashes down fairly quickly. he can't show Han that he thinks this is funny- he'll just get even more dramatic and then they'll be causing a scene.

"we're supposed to be undercover," he reminds him quietly, lips twitching again. "just take a drink of whatever it is that you ordered and shut up." Luke doesn't drink- he's never done it once in his life and you can probably tell by the way his mouth twists uncomfortably after every drink. he's definitely not used to this. he's not even sure why they thought Han and Luke were good for this mission- they've never done undercover like this before. something tells him if Han doesn't start drinking, they're going to blow their cover, and that's not going to go down well with the rest of the team.

             𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂  𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴  𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚂𝙴  𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂  𝙷𝙰𝙳  𝙰  𝚆𝙰𝚈  𝙾𝙵  𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙾𝚆𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝚂𝙾𝙻𝙾  𝙾𝙵𝙵  𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷  𝙱𝚁𝚄𝚃𝙰𝙻  𝙲𝙻𝙰𝚁𝙸𝚃𝚈  ,   no matter how many years stacked up or how weathered he became.  it was a stark reminder for han that, despite everything they’d gone through together, all the shared experiences, battles fought, close calls, and shared victories, luke skywalker still knew next to nothing about the man sitting beside him.  luke had no idea about the dark, unsavory mess of han’s past, the life of crime he led as an orphaned street rat, how it began long before the kid probably even realized there was a galaxy beyond the sun-bleached monotony of tatooine.

the thought sent irritation digging deeper than he’d like to admit, probing into depths he wasn’t exactly keen to explore before it ultimately touched on something raw, like a wound that never quite closed over.   unresolved, it lingered still, always gnawing at him, taunting him —

han burst into raucous, incongruous laugher, the sort that seemed a touch too loud for the setting, and slung an arm around luke’s shoulders with a familiarity that was both reassuring and rather uncalled for.   he gave luke a hearty shake—more for effect than anything else—then pulled him closer to his side, tucking the kid into what he hoped was a less conspicuous position away from the prying eyes of the bar’s other patrons.

            ❝awh hells, kid, you crack me up!❞       his laughter, tapering and resonant as it warped through his whiskey glass, elicited a few curious glances from the patrons at the periphery—glances with varying degrees of intrigue lingering just long enough to quicken his pulse—but none from the group of shady bastards lurking in the back, where the overhead lights suffused into shadow.  whether they recognized luke for who he truly was or were simply sizing him up as potential company for the night was anyone’s guess, but han wasn’t about to gamble on either outcome.               not tonight.   not ever.

ducking his head, the captain leaned in close, his face angled toward gold-spun locks to obscure the movements of his mouth. his voice dropped to a low, wary murmur, ❝listen, farm boy.  lemme set the record straight—you’re the rookie here, not me.  i’ve been rubbin’ elbows with criminal scum for longer than you’ve been alive.  now, if you’re done with the pep talk, try not to get us caught, yeah?❞  with that, han straightened up, a crooked grin spreading like a practiced mask over his face, seamlessly maintaining the pretense of two people enjoying a night out together.