1) who can outdrink the other?

Baltor can.  Long before the whole ‘let’s take over the universe’ thing that man was a casual drinker.  Bourbon, whiskey, toquilla?  Yes.  Bloom has tried, bless her soul, but she’s tiny.  It’s never worked out well for her.

2) who says “I love you” more?

Bloom does.  But this is because she is much more in tune with her emotions and not afraid to say it.  Baltor is, but he’s trying not to be.

3) who has trouble sleeping alone?

After they get together I think I’d go with Baltor.  It’s super strange after being alone for so long to have someone with him, so whenever Bloom’s gone there’s just this little hint of worry; maybe she won’t come back, I’m gonna have to get used to this again, and it really bothers him (and way more) than he lets on to Bloom. 

4) who swears more?

Baltor does.  Even in my slightly AU world where Sparxshipping works Bloom doesn’t swear as much.  Baltor doesn’t as often, but he’s gonna drop a ‘hell’ or ‘damn it’ way more.

5) who does more of the housework?

“Han, we live together.” Luke sat up and rested his arms on his knees, looking at Han the whole time with an eyebrow raised. “You don’t need to bring the Falcon into the shop anymore just to see me.” And flirt with me. was unsaid but implied. Han grinned and leaned against the hood of the car.

“You’re the best mechanic around, sweetheart. Only one besides me and Chewie who gets to even touch the Falcon. Getting to see you is just a bonus,” he joked as Luke pushed himself up to his feet.

Luke’s expression was halfway between amused and adoring and so warm that Han practically felt himself melting. He would never admit to looking at Luke like a lovesick puppy. That was Luke’s job, not his, damn it. And speaking of puppies-

“But that’s not what I’m here for today!” Han (embarrassingly) spluttered, and Luke’s knowing grin made Han’s ears burn. “Wanted to surprise you with something.”

“While I’m still on the clock?”

Han scoffed. “Your shift ends in a couple minutes, and with how much you work overtime you’ve earned a couple minutes off, especially for this surprise.”

Luke tried to look stern, but if Han knew his Luke Skywalker Faces (and he did) Luke was secretly relieved.

“Come on kid, this is worth taking a break from your clearly important, life saving work with that engine,” Han pushed not so subtly. Luke rolled his eyes, more long suffering then any sigh, but let Han drag him out into the blazing Cali sun and over to the Falcon.

At first glance, the truck that Han had christened the Millennium Falcon was “a piece of junk” in Luke’s immortal words. Beat up, breaking apart, it was unrecognizable as any truck model because Han had fiddled with it so much, after it had already been messed with by previous owners; but what it lacked in looks it made up for in speed and maneuverability. Once upon a time Han had been a smuggler,and the Falcon his machine of choice. All the hidden compartments were still intact, but they were only used for innocent enough purposes now. At the moment, both windows were rolled down slightly so it wouldn’t become a broiler inside the metal death trap of a truck.

“Wait one sec,” Han said as he looked meaningfully at Luke, turned back to walk to the truck, turned back to Luke again to add, “A-and cover your eyes. No peeking,” then turned again and walked up to the truck, looking in the window.

A puppy’s face looked back, tiny pink tongue lolling out of it’s half open mouth as it panted in the heat. It’s big eyes met Han’s and it started to bark excitedly while Han tried to shoosh it. In one mostly fluid go, Han pulled open and scooped up thirty two pounds of cheerful, wriggling, floppy-eared golden retriever in his arms. It yipped and, after some fumbling, found a comfortable position in Han’s clumsy hold. Han smiled crookedly at the puppy, suddenly nervous. Luke was still waiting, eyes closed like Han had asked, when he walked back over.

"Open ‘em, Luke.”

One unbelievably blue opened tentatively, but once he had gotten a glimpse of what Han was holding both Luke’s eyes flew open, a gasp escaping his lips. Han grinned and handed the dog over, and it took to Luke like a duck takes to water, yapping and licking Luke’s face. Luke laughed aloud, laughed like he hadn’t laughed in years, and he suddenly looked nineteen again, young and naïve with more compassion in him then anyone should be allowed, and Han knew this had been a good idea.

“Does she have a name?” Luke asked once the dog had calmed down enough that he wasn’t afraid he’d get a faceful of dog when he opened his mouth, shaking Han out of his reverie.

“She?” Han spluttered. He hadn’t known that, how had Luke known that? He chalked it up to another Luke oddity (or one of those weird things Luke just knew that no one else knew and probably would never need to know because he used to be a farmer). “Uh, no, not as far as I know.” Luke gave him a questioning look, and Han quickly explained.

“Found her digging in the dumpster behind Joe’s, one leg missing- I washed her before I gave her to you, though, don’t worry!” That got another laugh out of Luke to Han’s (secret) delight.

“She’s a pretty good-looking puppy,” Luke said adoringly, every part the proud new dog father.

“I knew there was a reason she reminded me of you.”

Luke rolled his at this. “Huh, I thought it was because of her missing paw. You’ve got a morbid sense of humor Han.”

But when he turned he was smiling at Han, that smile, like he had swallowed the sun and it shone out between his teeth and bathed you in light.

“Let’s call her Rebel.”

Leia wasn’t going to answer the door. Not today. It was her day, and she didn’t care who it was, they could suck it for all she cared. God, but they weren’t letting up, were they?

“Leia? Come on, princess, I know you’re home. This is important!”

Of course it was Han. When was it not that laserbrain? With a long suffering sigh she dragged herself to her feet and stomped with all the ill-temper she could muster to the door, wearing the scowl of a woman who hadn’t caught a break in weeks.

Being met with Han’s grinning face didn’t exactly raise her spirits any.

Standing next to Han was Luke, with matching smile that did manage to soften Leia’s mood, much to her chagrin; she was still trying to be mad at them for bothering her on her one day off. But Luke was grinning like he hadn’t grinned in years, and she had a feeling the ball of golden fur with two floppy ears in Luke’s arms was to blame for all of this.

Leia didn’t know if she was surprised or just felt she should feel surprised. She just wasn’t shocked by anything these two moon jockeys did anymore. At least this was a good kind of unexpected. The debacle from when Han had “modified” her car so it was undrivable by anyone but Luke, with his inhuman reflexes and lack of any taste whatsoever (she could only imagine Luke driving something with “The Queen Machine” in sparkling bejeweled letters on the hood) was still fresh in her mind. Han had gotten a good laugh out of it, but she had not been amused.

“Considering you’re here, Han, I’m assuming you’re not just here to introduce me to the dog,” Leia said, arms crossed.

“Hey!” Han protested, looking sincerely hurt. Luke was stifling giggles, shoulders shaking, and Leia’s frown softened into a crooked smile. Even the dog agreed with her.

“Come on then, out with it.”

“Gang upon me, why don’t'cha?” Han muttered. “Alright, fine. We just need some cash, for Rebel here’s vet visit and all the essentials.”

There was an unspoken question of approval; if Leia thought Han should keep the dog. Leia glanced between Han, earnest and awkwardly shuffling his feet, and Luke, his eyes pleading, and the dog, paws hanging and tail desperately trying to wag while being squashed in Luke’s arms, and sighed before waving them all inside.

“Alright, come inside while I get my checkbook,” Leia said, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her lips as Luke grinned wide and rushed past her with dog in tow; if he hadn’t had the dog she probably would’ve gotten a faceful of Luke right there as he hugged her, but his arms were already occupied. As usual, Han wasn’t very huggy, but his grin was almost as wide as Luke’s.

“Thanks, Leia.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said, then added, “Only spend my money on Rebel though. I’m not here to fund every crazy thing you just decide to do.”

“Hey! It’s me!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Taking Rebel to the vet was, possibly, the only thing in existence that could be both nerve-wracking and skull numbingly boring, and when the thrice damned vet finally finished chatting about something to Luke that he had tuned out entirely and they got their dog, Han was glad to be out of there. The dog was amazingly healthy for a mongrel with a missing leg, if skinnier and smaller than she should be, considering she had been digging around in garbage when he found her. She hadn’t caught anything from the muck that came out of Joe’s? That took resilience.

In the Petsmart He fought with Luke light-heartedly over what toys to get, if Rebel needed a nice pet bed, if they even had the money for all the fancy stuff Luke seemed to think Rebel deserved, and what dog food was the best. Luke was adamant that they buy food that had actual meat and actual meat only, even if the ones with corn and meat by-products were cheaper.

“Alright, but if you get the premium all natural shit, you’re gonna have to put the dog bed back.”

Luke hadn’t been happy about that, sporting an expression that was almost an exact copy of her Highnesses when she was fighting with her pride and stubbornness, and had nodded viciously, seeing reason but not liking the injustice of it.

“Dogs are carnivores, Han. I’m not giving up her health just so we can get more things.” There was a pause, then Luke looked at Han like he had just thought of something terrible Han wasn’t going to like. “It just means she’ll have to sleep in the bed.”

Oh yeah, Han was looking forward to that. Well, as long as Luke and Rebel were happy. The dog better not get in the way when they were messing around though. That was where Han drew the line.

They walked out with Han carrying the bags, because dammnit Luke didn’t have to carry literally everything even if he wanted to, and Luke with a gently panting ball of canine cradled in his arms, to the Falcon. Han dropped the bags unceremoniously in the back of the truck, then turned back to Luke.

“Y’know, if you still really want that dog bed-”

“No, Han.”

“You didn’t even hear what I was gonna say!”

“You were going to say we could ask Leia for more money.”

“I- yeah, okay, that’s what I was going to suggest. Just a suggestion. If you really wanted that dog bed.”

“I’ll be fine, Han.”

The drive home, Rebel crawled all over them both, shiny new dog tag jangling on her shiny new collar–which would’ve been cute if Han wasn’t trying to drive. Luke finally pulled Rebel back into his arms, restraining her as well as he could. As they got close Rebel only got more excited, as if she could tell they were almost at her new home, and she just wanted to be there already. Her wet nose and her one paw pressed against the window, while her back legs dug into Luke’s thighs.

When the truck doors opened Rebel practically flew out, stumbling a little but determined to run around and sniff out her place, stubby leg be damned. Luke jumped down with far more grace, boots clicking against the sidewalk, and rushed to scoop Rebel up before she got too far away, while Han came around from the other side and walked to the door of the apartment building, bags in hand. He set them down to dig around in his pockets for his keys.

Where the hell were they? He’d had them a second ago.

A tap on his shoulder stopped him, and he turned to find Luke had the keys in his hands, somehow still holding Rebel in his other arm like she was a baby.

Han grimaced and stuck his tongue out, prompting a grin from Luke, clearly pleased with himself.

The door opened with a soft click and the squeak of unoiled hinges, and Han hustled Luke, Rebel, the bags, and all inside and up the well worn stairs to their apartment, taking the steps two at the time in their rush.

Their apartment was shared between Luke, Han, and Chewie, Han’s black Russian immigrant friend, who a long time Han had helped make their immigration legal and had become Han’s closest companion, and it wasn’t anything special, but it was their and they had made it theirs. There was only one bedroom, but the couch folded out into a bed and Chewie had insisted on using that one while Luke and Han took the bedroom. There had been occasions where Han had ended up either on the fold out with Chewie, or alone in the bedroom while Luke slept out here, but luckily nights like that were rare. Even the best relationships had fights or bad days sometimes, and Chewie was sympathetic, or at the very least a good bed partner when you just needed some space.

On the worst nights Luke slept over at Leia’s, only comfortable with his twin, but something like that was never Han’s fault.

“We’re home!”

A rumbled response came from inside the tiny kitchenette followed by Chewie themself, wearing a Powerpuff Girls t-shirt, boxers, and wool knit socks, their long curly hair pulled into a ponytail. They looked worn out, but their lips pulled into a smile when they saw the dog.

I see he has already taken a shine to her, Chewie said with a huff of laughter, I told you not to worry.

Luke apparently got enough of that, after years spent living with Chewie, because he looked at Han with adoration, laughter dancing in his eyes, which made the blush on Han’s face deepen.

“I wasn’t worried!” Han said, crossing his arms over his chest, “I knew Rebel here’d steal Luke’s heart just as quick as I did.”

“Oh really?” Luke’s eyes gleamed, smile widening.

If that is how long you thought it would take, you must have been expecting a couple years of misunderstanding and friend-zoning to happen first, along with the pup not realizing it’s feelings until much later then Luke did?

“Hey, I had the kid’s heart the moment we met in the cantina,” Han said, and wrapped an arm around Luke’s shoulders to emphasize, which just drew a laugh from Luke.

“You wish,” Luke said teasingly, but leaned into Han’s embrace all the same.

Rebel chose that moment to bark, wriggling in Luke’s arms like a petulant child that now just wanted to be set down because they were done with all the hugging and wanted to play, and Luke laughed again and set her down, letting her explore the apartment from head to toe while Luke hovered and made sure the pup didn’t get into any trouble.