Drabble: Scalding Hoth
Drabble: Scalding Hoth
Fandom: Star Wars OT
Pairing: Han/Wedge
Rating: X


During the night cycle on Hoth, with only a skeleton crew manning the entrances and security systems, there was little risk of a sleepy pilot wandering out of the relatively cozy dorms and into the frigid hangar. But Wedge still couldn't help glancing at the far wall just to make sure no one would see him with his hands bound behind the Falcon's landing gear with Solo deftly removing the thick straps holding his pants on.

His breath frosted in the air and he gasped as Han pushed his shirt up, exposing him to the cold. Wedge jerked once against the rope holding him still (at least they weren't cold unforgiving binders, he thought) and winced when he was pushed back against the icy metal struts.

Han gave him a half-smile but didn't say anything. He never had to. Wedge let his head fall back and groaned as that hot mouth enveloped him, the sudden change scalding hot on his skin, and he stopped caring if anyone walked in on them.