This is the answer to ZP Florian's challenge.
Archive: ask first, but probably yes.
Disclaimer: They belong to the Great Flanneled One
who might use the fight, but would never, ever
use the part after.  No money, entertainment only,
post no bills.

Timeline: Between ANH and TESB
Rating: PG
Warning: mild violence (it's a bar fight, duh!) and unbeta'd
 
 
 

Loud jizz-wailers competed with the hum of many voices.  Smoke of
a dozen different sorts of plant created a shifting grey haze
over the multitude of creatures.  A robotic bartender dispensed
drinks as fast as the clientele demanded them, handing over
a large crockery stein and a smaller glass to the young human male
who dropped the exact change into its money drawer.

Luke took a sip from his mug before threading his way through the crowd,
avoiding entanglements and tripping.  He'd lost one shirt to Han's
favorite whiskey, he had no desire to burn holes in a second.
And bad memories of the Aquilesh at the Mos Eisley Cantina completed
his caution.  From his destination he heard raised voices.

"Who you callin' a cheat!"

"I calling you a cheat, oo-mon.  Oo-mons always cheat wit cards.
Two eye-ed freaks."  The two-headed being nodded to itself in agreement.

"Hisss friend helpsss him, I think."  The Slivantian leaked a drop of
poison from one fang that sizzled its way through the table.
The other two players, a Devaronian and a human, looked uneasy
and considered doing a fast fade.

"Leave Luke outta this!  He's just gettin' the drinks."

Han groaned.  His beautiful Idiot's Array had shifted
and he had a handful of garbage cards.
This sabbac game was going very, very badly.

"You cheat, and your friend wit you.  We
know to deal wit cheats 'ere on Zanag."  The being stood up,
and up.  He was bigger than Chewbacca, a good three meters tall.

"Solo, when are you gonna learn to reign in your mouth?"  Han
muttered as he reached for his blaster.

The Slivantian made a fast strike, only to find itself looking
at its fangs, which lay on the table.  The hum of a lightsaber filled
the bar.  Luke, with the usual presence of mind, had
managed to set the drinks down and arm himself before
anyone noticed.

A respectful distance was granted by the denizens, except the
two-head.  The heads laughed together as if this was
the best joke they had heard in ages.

"Look, ta oo-mon tinks ee's a Jedi!"

The other head laughed.  "Eat?"

"Oo-mons not ed-bull.  Kill."

"More fun tan sabbac."  They nodded agreement.

Han had slid out of the booth, and now stood with his back to
Luke's, blaster out.  He was acutely aware of the warmth
along his spine, the lightsaber hum loud in his ears.

Three more of the two-headed beings drifted out of the shadows
and took position beside their pod-brother.

Han heard other creatures making bets on who would leave
the bar under his own power, and who would be carried out.

"When will you learn not to buy more trouble than we
can handle?" Luke complained.  "Don't shoot unless
we have to."  He made a pass with the 'saber,
making the creatures back up a step.  "To the door."

They edged slowly away, sidestepping, backs
pressed together, the crowd parting for them.  They
made it halfway to the door when the two-heads rushed them.

Chaos reigned for a few moments of flashing blaster bolts,
whooshing sabers, falling body parts and bodies shaking the floor.
Two of the two-heads were down, stunned, and one of the standing ones
was missing an arm.

"I think you better move you blaster setting higher, Han."

"It's on vaporize, what more do you want?
Keep walking."

"Then why are they only stunned?"  The rising
panic in Luke's voice told Han to move a little faster.
He tossed a table into the path of the two heads,
and they made another few feet.  The stunned ones were
starting to stir and the others started
helping them up.

"Run for it!"  Han bolted for the door, and Luke followed suit.
A Bith tried slowing him with a well-placed foot,
but fear, or the Force, gave Luke impetus to vault it.
He was out the door less than a step behind Han.

They took two blocks at a dead run, ducked right around a corner,
and sprinted another three before taking a left corner
and ducking into a darkened doorway.  Standing in the darkened
close quarters, Luke listened to the triphammer of his heart,
willing his breathing to slow.  The warm nearness of his friend was
intolerable, and the doorway was far too small.

"Some fun, hunh, kid?  Hey, you forgot the drinks."

"Go back and get them yourself.
Don't tell me this is a typical night on the town!"

"Nah.  Better than most.  I'm still pretty sober,
and I have money."

"What?  You were losing."

"When everyone else was looking at the slivantian's fangs,
I recouped my losses."  Han ruffled Luke's hair.  "Let's
find something to eat."

Pushed beyond human endurance, and intoxicated by
proximity and adrenaline, Luke threw caution to the winds.
"I don't care if you are my best friend."  He threw his
arms around Han's neck and kissed him invasively.

Indulging himself in the long-savored fantasy, he
slowly became aware that Han had backed him up against the wall,
and was half-supporting him.  His knees seemed to have
become the same consistancy as Aunt Beru's special
hubba custard.  Most amazingly to Luke's mind,
he was being kissed back.

"Can't take you anywhere, kid," Han complained when
they came up for air.  "Every bar you go into, there's a fight.
I guess we'll just have to stay home."
The one-sided smile said there was a great deal to
be said for staying home.