a/n: mildly analogous to a scene in the fic 'Girl Talk'
La Lune de Miel
Trois
"Soft-core Lullaby"
The sauna bath in the Corellian cabin was a fully equipped whirlpool – given Leia's deep affection for warm, luxurious bubble baths, she had refused to purchase a private chalet with a 'fresher that resembled anything less than – for lack of a better word – a spa. She wouldn't have called the spa room extravagant by any means – though it did require a term more sophisticated than 'fresher – it was modest, and yet quietly palatial; the floors were marble, most everything finely polished platinum finished in thin veneers of white gold – and the eye-catching stones that framed the basin of the sauna bath were tinged with glints of pink and orange that Leia found to be extremely attractive in candlelight.
She was not quite sentimental enough to bother with a hassle such as wax candles, however – candlelight happened to be her favorite setting on the light fixtures, and candlelight happened to be the hue in which she most liked to stare at Han –
Ah, for now, at least; for this quiet moment – Han had such a maddening knack for looking intensely appealing in most lights – which she attributed either objectively to the fact that he was simply blessed with arresting good looks, or subjectively to the fact that she loved him, and there was a fair chance she'd be dizzy over him if he was covered in muck and disoriented and blind –
In fact, she had been.
As it were – he was not, currently, covered in muck, disoriented, or blind – though his eyes were closed lazily and he seemed, for once, to be genuinely savoring the experience of a bubble bath, a ritual that was usually Leia's relaxation method – Han eschewed the quiet, languid hot water for drinking or rigging the Falcon.
He had participated in many a bath with her before – sitting with her during them, barging in to disturb her peace and irreverently flood the bathroom, splashing water on her – yet it was not his thing, so to speak, and despite knowing that, Leia had ensured this sauna basin was comfortably large enough for the both of them.
She studied him intently in their easy silence, listening to the faint, electric hum of the dim lights, the mellow, erratic drip of water from one faucet or another – the streams of massage jets had long been turned off, but the bubbles were still thick and generous, and they made the surface of the water opaque – Leia could only see Han's bare chest rising out of the water as he lounged against marble directly opposite her – and one of his knees, propped up and rested against the side.
She uncrossed her legs, drawing her knees up, and leaned forward, shifting in the still steaming water – Han opened his eyes without moving his head, caught her eye, and grinned at her lazily – and she smiled, reaching up to run her hand over her neck, brushing strands of thick, wet hair away from her skin.
Leia ran her fingers through her messily braided hair, and twisted it in her palms, drawing it over her shoulder – Han tilted his head a little, lifting it, his brow rising just slightly.
Leia parted her lips, and he lifted his hand, resting it on his knee and pointing at her with a small smirk.
"That a blush, Princess?" he asked. He paused for a beat, and grinned, giving a soft snap of his fingers without allowing her to answer. "That's a blush."
Leia compressed her lips primly, and Han lifted his head a little more, straightening to keep her gaze. She slipped her fingers into the tangled crisscrosses of her braids, leaning forward lightly against her knees, smoothing bubbles over her shins as she looked back at him.
"Your blushing bride," she quipped wryly, quirking up an eyebrow to match his.
Han laughed.
"Haven't seen you blush like that since Bespin," he teased.
Leia rested an arm on her knees, and then lifted her hand, brushing a few fingers against her lips. She considered him a moment, and then lowered her lashes demurely.
"It's my virginal blush," she whispered coquettishly, and Han only laughed a little louder, the sound deep and husky.
Leia bowed her head and laughed too, biting her lip – she smoothed both hands back over her hair, and then wrapped them around her knees, curving her body forward to look at him. Beneath the bubbles and sultry water, Han moved a foot forward, nudging hers with his.
She poked his toes with hers playfully, and then curved the arch of her foot around his ankle, and Han cleared his throat, lifting his hand to his mouth. He bit on his finger thoughtfully, staring at her, and then brushed his jaw with his knuckles.
"Hell, 'm I blushin'?" he asked, feigning consternation. He gave her a quasi-innocent look, his dark eyes glinting roguishly. He touched his hand to his chest in an exaggerated gesture. "I was a virgin on that one, too, y'know."
Leia raised her eyes to the ceiling and snorted, unladylike, and then closed her eyes, wrinkling her nose with a giggle – she wrapped her leg around Han's and sank down in the water, until the bubbles covered all but her nose and she peered out at him sweetly, her eyes bright, skin still glowing with one of her enticing blushes.
She lifted her head, took a breath, and gave him a mock-serious look.
"I hope I wasn't too rough with you," she whispered.
"Well," Han drawled gruffly, "you could've held me a little bit, after."
Leia gave a quieter, more demure snort of amusement.
"Yeah, and next time? Don't call me by your other scoundrel's name," he went on.
Leia cleared her throat primly.
"I'll try," she agreed.
She put her arms on the side of the tub, holding herself up a little, more, and looking at him. She pursed her lips again, biting on the lower one thoughtfully, and then tilted her head forward, brows arching a little.
"Next time?" she quoted. "You're hooked on it now?"
Han gave her a smirk, but his expression was a little more guarded, suddenly.
"Nah, Leia," he said, quite seriously. "'M not makin' assumptions."
Leia backtracked a little as well, sitting up some more. She tilted her head, her brow knitting slightly.
"I'm not bothered if you liked it," she assured him, "or if you want to do it again."
Han looked at her silently for a long moment – they hadn't had much of a conversation, after the fact – she'd snuggled up to him, breathless, maybe clinging a little tighter than usual – he spent enough time catching his breath that he thought she might have fallen asleep, when she ran her fingers through his hair and caught his earlobe in her teeth – let's go run a bath, Han –
He sat forward, water sloshing around them, and held her gaze intently.
"Did you like it?" he asked.
He seemed genuinely unsure.
"Do you want to do it again?"
Leia tilted her head at him with a wry smile, and parted her lips.
"You know, Captain, you might let me finish this bubble bath first," she quipped.
Han hung his head, his breath rushing out swiftly, and snorted huskily, glancing up and giving her a narrow look.
"S'not what I meant."
"I know," she said softly.
She waited for him to lift his head up and resume looking at her, and she drew her knees up again, leaning forward against them. She pursed her lips, and compressed them – something she always did when carefully organizing her thoughts.
"With you?" she asked gently.
Han cracked a smile, glaring.
"I sure as hell hope not with anyone else," he growled.
Leia grinned. She nodded.
"With you," she said – without the teasing punctuation, this time. "I would."
Han stared at her silently.
"You never cease to amaze me, Sweetheart," he said gruffly.
He reached out with one arm – "'C'mere" – he murmured, and she moved forward – in a swift movement, he drew her towards him, her back slipping against his chest sensually, warm, wet skin brushing together – so tempting Leia closed her eyes, and let her head fall back on his chest, settling between his legs.
He sighed gruffly, wrapping his around hers, and tangling their feet up somehow – he leaned forward to kiss the top of her head, her temple, and her cheek – how she had managed to find a way to illustrate their honeymoon with something entirely knew to them, when it came to the realm of sexual experience – he shouldn't have put it past her, and he wrapped an arm around he shoulders, holding her tight, valuing her all the more for her bravery, and that private wild side that was his, all his.
He let the silence go on for a moment, and then lowered his head, pressing his lips to her ear.
"Sore?" he asked quietly.
Leia tilted her head a little, and shook it back and forth, her lips parted pensively.
"No," she answered simply.
She reached up to slip her hand into his, interlocking their fingers. She closed her eyes contently.
"Compliments to you, I believe," she murmured.
"You didn't say if you liked it," he pointed out, a hint of worry in his tone.
Leia was quiet.
"I like feeling close to you," she answered honestly. "I like your touch."
Han kissed her ear again, his mouth lingering in her hairline. Leia listened to his heartbeat for a moment, feeling sleepy, and safe – she opened her eyes to look around them – at the soft lighting, the gorgeous marble, and the iridescent glint in the bubbles.
"Han," she whispered mildly. She let his name linger for a moment, because she wasn't sure how exactly to phrase what she wanted to get across to him. "I know I make you nervous in bed sometimes."
His response was immediate, his grip on her tightening gently.
"No, s'not you, you don't," he began.
"You don't want to hurt me," Leia said placidly.
"'Course not," he mumbled, his jaw tightening – that was one of the reasons why, despite her offering to fulfill a quintessential male fantasy, he had been wary of the whole act, ready to bolt the moment Leia even flinched with slight discomfort –
Leia licked her lips.
"I never feel nervous in bed with you," she said – she didn't add the word 'anymore' – but it lingered, and Han knew it did; he took no offense in it, he just felt an instant wave of relief, triumph, something like those two mixed –
He felt Leia take a deep breath, and sigh contently, and she reflected on her own comment – she had never felt unsafe with Han at all, but she had her clear, dissociative moments sometimes – and thinking of it now, she could not remember a single time, recently, when she'd need to take a break, take a breath, make him stop and look at her, and whisper her name to her for a few minutes –
Han bowed his head next to hers and kissed her neck, and Leia reached up to run her fingers into his hair; she sensed he felt humbled, by her trust, somehow, but she felt it was a given, and she was invigorated by him, and everything in her life she'd been able not only to have, but to have back – because of him.
She squeezed his hand, and slid it down her body – between her breasts, over her ribs and stomach, her hips – and rested his palm between her legs, and his fingers on her, leaning back into him, pressuring his hand with hers.
"Make me come this way," she coaxed, her voice soft and husky – like honey, like whiskey –
"Just my hand?" he asked –
"Yes," she murmured, eyes closed, head tilted back – she reached up behind her to touch his face, slipping a little further into the water – she loved when he touched her like that; it was gentle, a soft-core lullaby.
Han nodded, his other hand sliding over her shoulder, fingers brushing at her jaw – he tilted her head to the side, bowed his head down closer, and found her lips for a kiss –
"How many times?" he asked huskily, nudging her jaw with his nose –
- and Leia laughed, catching her lip in her teeth -
"There's that blush again," Han growled seductively, and Leia tilted her head back, her breath already catching in a soft, almost soundless moan – she'd spent good money on this sauna, and yet still, what made it worth it was him.
Honeymoon
-alexandra
