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An unabashed hand slides between Luke’s legs, thumb pressing just right with an immediacy that has Luke’s head spinning. He rocks forward in Han’s lap, letting out a shuddering exhale against Han’s grin.
“You’ll have to wear a blindfold,” Luke states with what little breath he has left.
“Then I’ll wear a blindfold, kid,” Han whispers back.
“He might say no,” Luke tries instead, because he’s already so worked up by the idea, he thinks if it came to fruition he’d explode into the Force. He needs to calm himself, and Han — whose radiating excitement through his mouth and thumb and cock and heart.
“He won’t,” Han soothes, the same damn smug glint in his eyes he always got when walking into a disaster of his own making.
Luke sobs when Han’s thumb starts to circle, all coherent arguments finally lost, he lets himself melt into fate.
-
“Wasn’t much else to do on Hoth, y’know? And you shoulda seen him back then, Mando, woulda fucked anything that moved.”
Luke knots the blindfold a little tighter.
“Hey!” Han exclaims. “It’s the truth. I say it fondly.”
“Does he ever stop talking?” Din asks from the doorway. Unlike Luke and Han, he’s still fully dressed. He’s a bundle of nerves, too, even as he tries to nonchalantly lean against the doorframe, watching as Luke secures the blindfold over Han’s eyes.
“No.”
“It’s part of my charm.”
Luke huffs. Han moves to face him. He reaches out, hand wavering in the air until it bumps against Luke’s torso, settling on Luke’s hip. His fingertips don’t dig in with their typical fervor, and his mouth, for all his smart talk, is flat.
Luke turns back to Din, head tilting in silent inquiry — a habit he’s picked up from his husband. It’s enough to finally get Din walking farther into the room.
Soon enough, Han and Luke’s pants join their shirts on the floor, and Din’s armor sits in a neat pile atop the dresser, helmet included, and Luke’s got his hand fisted in Han’s hair and Han’s tongue against his teeth and Din’s teeth caressing his nape. Luke can feel Din’s signature slowly liquidizing, and Han’s starting to blaze, yet the unspoken tension remains. Han flinches whenever his wandering hands brush Din, and Din hasn’t tried to turn Luke around to kiss him, and when either of them speak, it’s only to address Luke, never each other.
Din’s hesitation wasn’t a surprise, a portion of Luke had been convinced he’d say no to taking part in something like this. It wasn’t an easy thing, for him, to be laid bare. Even if Han couldn’t see him.
Han’s is unexpected, considering he’d been the one to ask for a spot in Luke’s marital bed. Perhaps he didn’t want to give Din the wrong idea by being too eager. Which was ridiculous, because Din and Luke’s marriage was as solid as Beskar, and a handsy smuggler wouldn’t be piercing it any time soon.
Han and Din both move to grip Luke’s waist, fingers colliding and this time they both flinch so hard their mouths lose contact with Luke.
“Okay,” Luke sighs. “You both need to relax.”
“I am relaxed,” insists Han as Din mutters a sorry into Luke’s hair. The admission of guilt from Din has Han’s shoulders slumping, his jaw flexing under Luke’s fingers. “Right. What do you want us to do, kid?”
Luke feels something spark in his stomach at that. Us. Han and Din. Din and Han.
“I want you to talk to each other. And touch each other,” Luke answers. He leans back against Din’s chest, tugging Han to move with him. Pressed between them, Luke adds, “I want you to fuck me.”
“Well, hey, we can certainly make that happen. Can’t we, Mando?” Han’s smirking again, and he digs his thumb into Luke’s inner thigh.
“Yeah,” Din agrees, grabbing Luke’s jaw to twist him into a kiss. It doesn’t last long. With Han’s tension eased, he has no qualms about cutting in, pulling Luke into a quick, messy kiss before shifting his attention to Din. When Din leans into Han, Luke knows he’s managed to soothe over all of their anxieties.
“You lay back,” Han says when he noisily detaches his lips from Din’s. “And the kid will get on top of you.”
And, gods, this is actually happening. Every fiber buzzes as Luke watches Din lay down. Luke follows Din onto the bed, straddling his husband. Han settles behind Luke, on his knees between Din’s legs.
Han reaches around Luke, placing a deliberate hand on his stomach. “How we lookin’, Mando?”
Din visibly swallows, eyes tracing down Luke, who shifts under his gaze, subtly widening his legs. “Good,” he answers, voice low.
“How’s he lookin’?” Han asks Luke, his hand creeping lower. “Is he hard?”
Against the slight plush of Din’s stomach, his cock stood flushed and eager, and Luke could feel arousal roll through Din with Luke’s eyes on him. “Yeah,” Luke breathes.
“Well, let’s get you wet for him, yeah?” Han prompts, and his hand finally slides home.
Luke melts. His senses are already overwhelmed with Din underneath him, his steady, deep pulse of desire that matches the rattling in Luke’s chest, and behind him Han — his passion warming Luke like laughter from an inside joke. The Force felt so full of love, all different sorts, but love all the same.
“Eager,” Han mutters, his fingers already slippery. “You wanna ride him?”
Luke bites his lip, meeting Din’s gaze for a brief blazing second. He glances down to where Din has a measured hand wrapped around himself. “Mhmm.”
“Get the lube for me first, sweetheart.”
Luke reaches out, the container zipping through the air, catching it with one tightly clenched fist. He passes it to Han, who retracts his slick hand — only to slicken it further — and finally allows Luke to position himself properly atop Din.
Luke and Din groan in unison as Luke sinks down, Han chuckling behind them. And the Force feels so full, Luke feels so full, but then Han’s thumb slides down Luke’s spine, dipping lower to tease Luke’s asshole and Luke gasps.
He knew this was coming, it was the whole point — “I’ve been thinking, kid, one cock isn’t enough for you. You're too greedy. Maybe I should come stay the night sometime, and me and your Mando can fill you up like you need it” — but it’s actually happening, and Luke truly is going to explode into the Force.
“He ever fuck you here?” Han asks.
“No,” Luke replies, strangled, grinding down on Din’s cock.
“No? This one’s all mine?”
He’s teasing, no part of Luke will ever be Han’s. Still, Luke can’t help a shiver at the thought — one hole for each of his men.
There were many reasons why Luke had married Din instead of Han. First of all, things between Luke and Han had never been particularly serious, near-death experiences aside. But one major factor was that Han Solo knew how to push all the right buttons to bring out Luke’s possessive streak, one unbefitting of a Jedi.
Whereas Din, he seemed to intuit the right amount of push and pull. He could tenderly warm Luke’s insides without knocking over the lantern and setting the whole structure ablaze. Always careful work, being married to a Jedi, but Din was up for it.
Luke has to still while Han’s fingers open him up. It’s torturous, with Din inside him, and he’s wishing he let Han stretch him before climbing on top of Din. “Han,” he groans.
“Still a little too tight, kid,” Han breathes with a telling hitch. If Luke looked over his shoulder, he’d likely see Han squeezing himself with his unoccupied hand. “Relax for me. Lean over and give your husband a kiss.”
Luke collapses forward, rolling his hips on instinct. He can hear a rumble from Din’s throat. “Regret saying yes yet?” he asks against Din’s stubble, his kiss poorly aimed.
“No,” Din mumbles. “You look good like this.”
Luke shivers at the intense spark in Din’s brown eyes, and the sensation of Han’s fingers slipping out, the sounds of Han repositioning following.
“You’d better be appreciating how he looks,” Han huffs. Suddenly, his cock is rubbing against Luke’s lower back. “Damn shame I don’t get to see him. Think you can take some pictures when we’re done? Before cleaning up?”
“If you’re good,” Din replies.
Han chuckles, delighted. “Yeah, I can be good.”
Luke’s hands go to Din’s shoulders as Han starts to push in, squeezing tight enough to bruise.
Usually, Luke likes to take what’s his. He’ll pin Din — or Han — down with the Force and bounce at whatever pace he decides , pleasure raking through him however many times he wants before he lets go of his hold on his partner’s hips and lets them spill inside him. He can’t really do that, like this — stretched open in both holes, pinned in place by two cocks. He has to take what’s given, Din’s uneven thrusts upward and Han’s deep, slow rolls.
Around Luke, the Force is a gelatinous meld of pleasure, Din and Han too bright on either side of him to sense anything else. Kriff, this is dangerous. Luke could drown in the sensations. He feels so full, and he never wants to be empty again.
He comes when Din reaches down to his clit, one thick finger sparking a sensation overload, leaving Luke gasping, shuddering, clenching. Han curses while Din murmurs, “There you go, cyar’ika.”
When his orgasm starts to fade, Luke squirms, trying to get more, but Han and Din grip either side of his hips, trying to hold him in place, and Luke lets them, just lets himself be fucked.
“Close?” Han chokes out. Luke whines, even if the question wasn’t for him.
“No,” Din replies, the syllable steady.
“Mandalorians,” Han scoffs. He tries to continue grumbling, but Din hits Luke’s sweet spot, and Luke clenches again, and Han gasps. “Shit, Luke. In or out, kid?”
“In,” Luke and Din answer in unison.
Han plasters himself against Luke’s back as he comes, buried deep, groaning into Luke’s hair. Din stills beneath Luke, letting Han luxuriate in holding Luke close. Luke relaxes into his hold initially, but as each second passes he grows impatient, cunt pulsing around Din.
“I gotta know, kid,” Han whispers as he slips out. “Who’s bigger?”
Luke rolls his eyes, huffing. He’s happy to ignore the question, but then Din answers, “Mine.”
“Yeah?” Luke flinches when Han’s hand slips between Luke’s legs, feeling for where Luke’s stretched around Din. “Kriff, no wonder you married him.”
“Shut up. I didn’t marry him for his cock.”
“Oh, c’mon,” Han teases. His hands move back to Luke’s hips, and he starts languidly rocking Luke’s body on Din’s cock. “I would never suggest our holy Jedi to be so shallow.”
Din’s fingers on his clit, and Han’s grip encouraging Luke to bounce on Din’s cock, Luke moans. He lets Han control the pace until he hears Din’s breath growing loud. Luke knocks away the hands on his hips and bounces how he likes it — shallow, but quick. He manages to come again on Din’s cock — with the help of Han’s fingers on his nipples, whispering filthy things in his ears — before Din’s lungs halt and he follows suit.
As requested, Luke stretches out on the bed, knees to his chest, and lets Din take a few holopics for Han before the two take turns cleaning him up with enthusiastic tongues. By the time they all collapse into bed, Luke’s covered in so much sweat he’s sure he’ll dream of Dagobah.
“Well? Another great idea from yours truly?” Han says into Luke’s back.
Luke hums into Din’s neck. There’s a tangle of arms around Luke and he’s never quite felt the Force so tangibly around him. “Sure.”
“Sure? Fine, next time we’ll get something, or someone, to fill that mouth of yours.”
Luke grins.