Authors' Notes: We offer no excuses for this fluffy smut, other than to say that writing it has temporarily satisfied our shared need to escape from grim reality for a while; to forget about death and grief and loss and mourning, while immersing ourselves (and Han and Leia) in millions of tiny bubbles. In this little corner of the GFFA, these two are hopelessly in love and they have an evening to themselves. No interruptions. Bliss, indeed!
A word to the wise: this is probably best enjoyed in the presence of a bowl of ice and an electric fan (looking at you, StatsGrandma). That said, parts of this were inspired by the discussions on HanLeiaFanFicWriters (Blogspot) about "imperfect sex", so don't be too surprised if things don't go exactly as planned for our canoodling duo. We promise, we'll make up for it later.
Domestic Bliss
Chapter 6
Soap and Water
by Justine Graham and Erin Darroch
With the faint hum of the ultra-quiet autovalet muffling the distant roar of the storm that still raged outside, Han closed his eyes and sank down into the spacious tub, submerging himself up to the neck in blissfully hot, bubbling water. He allowed his head to drop back against the curved porcelain edge and then released a sigh as the effervescent water fizzed against his skin, sending a rush of warmth and a shiver of pleasure through his chilled body. He couldn't recall the last time he'd had the time or the inclination to take a bath; such indulgences were extravagant and unlikely for someone in his previous line of work, and he never would have lingered in such a vulnerable state—naked and with his blaster out of reach—for a minute longer than necessary while he still had a price on his head. The denouement of the long war hadn't made things any easier, either, busy as he and Leia had both been with their respective tasks of wiping out Imperial remnants and building up a new government. Having leisure time to spend in the pursuit of pleasure had been rare indeed.
Rarer still was the scent of Arallute that drifted up in the tendrils of steam that rose from the water's foamy surface, perfuming the air with its lush, exotic scent. With the possibility of a luxury bath in mind, he'd snagged the bottle of scented oil the moment he'd seen it in the shop—turning a blind eye to the exorbitant price—and sneaked it into the fresher in the bag containing his wet clothes. He wanted to surprise Leia, knowing that she equated the familiar scent of the native Alderaanian flower with the comforts of home. He hoped that it would enhance the pleasant feeling of sanctuary she seemed to feel in this new space.
"Well, that's a sight I'd like to imagine very few people have seen," Leia's rich alto voice floated in from the doorway. "Something I thought I'd never get to see, outside of my fantasies."
Han opened one eye. Leia stood leaning one shoulder against the frame, with her dark eyes sparkling and the hint of a smile on her lips, dangling the bottle of wine from one hand and holding two flutes in the other.
"Han Solo taking a bubble bath," she continued as she crossed the threshold of the fresher and walked over to the vanity counter to set down the bottle and the glasses between the pair of porcelain sinks there. She paused for a moment to study her reflection in one of the tall mirrors affixed to the wall behind the counter, then shifted her gaze to meet Han's in the glass. "What would Chewie say?"
Han smirked; he knew exactly what Chewie's response would be, were his long-time friend to see him lounging without a care amid clouds of floral-scented steam. Although he knew without a doubt that the secretly sappy Wookiee would approve of Han's caring and romantic gesture, the ribbing he'd take from his hairy friend would be nothing short of epic. He also knew that the number of people who'd actually seen him in a bubble bath was precisely zero.
Before he could tell Leia that, though, she turned away from the mirror and tilted her nose in the air, sniffing tentatively at first and then inhaling deeply. Her brow furrowed and Han could almost see the thoughts racing through her mind as she sought to place the familiar scent. When the moment came, he saw her expression change from uncertainty to a look of wonderment, and finally to one of peaceful calm. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she took another long, deep breath, exhaled slowly and then opened her eyes and met his gaze. "That...is that Arallute?"
Pleased that she'd made the connection so quickly, but doing his best to downplay his gesture, Han kept his expression neutral and gave a little shrug. "Is it? Hadn't noticed."
Leia gave him a knowing smile. Han dropped the pretense and smiled back, then gave her a conspiratorial wink. The grand, oversized whirlpool tub in which he reclined was set into an arched alcove on one side of the room, sunken into a raised and tiled plinth at the top of two curved steps. He was positioned at one end of it, facing the door. Even slouched down, with the water up to his collarbones and his legs stretched out at full length, his feet didn't quite touch the opposite end. He grinned and sat up a little in the fizzing water, then stretched his wet arms out to rest along the curved edge. Leia was still smiling at him, but she'd made no move to undress.
"Get in here, Princess. I need to hear more about this fantasy of yours."
She blinked as if startled out of a reverie and opened her mouth to answer him, but then she caught sight of the neatly folded stack of thick, plush towels piled on the edge of the tub surround.
"Did you see those towels," she crooned, her big brown eyes going wide.
Han watched in bemusement as she approached the elevated surround and pulled one of the folded textiles from the top of the stack, and then ran her hand reverently over the fluffy surface, her expression rapt.
"So soft! And he brought shampoo and soap," Leia pointed out, gesturing at the small collection of miniature bottles nestled on the edge of the platform next to the stack of towels. "I'd say his boasting was warranted," she proclaimed, referring to the successful efforts of Millom Gurk, the enthusiastic Drallan concierge whom they'd called upon to supply some basic necessities to see them through the night. Leia lifted the plush fabric to her face and pressed it against her cheek with a little mmmm of appreciation before placing it back on the top of the pile. Straightening, she turned and, with a dreamy smile on her face, made her way back to the vanity counter. Han could swear he heard her humming softly as she poured a measure of fizzy wine, the color of pale straw, into each of the two glasses.
Observing her as she moved around the spacious fresher, Han couldn't suppress the wide grin that spread across his face. He found it endlessly fascinating to see Leia being Leia—not the Rebel leader nor the diplomat; not the politician nor the princess—just a woman, like any other, delighting in a few of the simple pleasures that the war had long precluded. He'd seen her in many different settings and moods; from serene and composed at diplomatic functions to red-faced and bellowing at the top of her lungs in battle. He felt privileged now to watch her simply be herself, enjoying such small luxuries as fluffy towels and nice wine, completely relaxed and unconcerned about appearances or being judged.
As she picked up one of the flutes from the counter and crossed the few steps to the tub, Han noted that while her back had been turned to him, she had unfastened the decorative closures at the neckline of her tunic. Bracing one hand on the side of the tub, she bent forward at the waist and handed him the glass. She paused as she did so, leaning over just far enough to draw his gaze to her open neckline, offering a tempting view of the swell of her breasts beneath the sheer ivory fabric. Han made a low sound of appreciation, and as his eyes flicked up to meet hers, he found her looking down at him with an expression of guileful innocence. The corner of her mouth tugged into a sly smile that told him she knew exactly what she was doing, though, and that she was pleased with his response.
Leia in seductive mode never failed to make Han's pulse race a little faster. In the earliest stages of their intimate relationship, he'd found her first tentative attempts to seduce him alluring and incredibly endearing. But as the months wore on, she'd grown steadily in confidence and she was now far more self-assured.
She really knew him; that was the thing. She knew him inside-out now, better than anyone, even Chewie. Over the years, she'd built up a store of knowledge about him as an ally and a friend, and she'd become thoroughly acquainted with all of his skill sets and predilections when it came to matters of work and survival. But she'd also spent the past several months amassing a collection of additional, more intimate details about what turned him on—in fact, how to make him half-crazed with lust—and she was swiftly learning to use that information to expert advantage. That was evidenced especially by the quiet but sincere confession she'd made after watching him take all of his clothes off: I like watching you strip. She knew damn well what she was doing when she made a comment like that, Han mused with an inward smirk.
"So," he said, suddenly finding words more difficult to form through a mouth that had gone a little dry. He took a healthy swallow of wine and set the glass on the tiled edge of the surround. "You still planning on joining me?" he queried. "It's plenty big enough in here for two."
"For two?" Leia remarked, scanning the bath from end to end, her eyebrows climbing. "That tub is enormous. We could almost get three people in there."
"Interesting proposition, Princess," Han drawled, giving her a lascivious smile. "Didn't know you were into that kind of thing."
Leia gaped at him for an instant, then pressed her lips together and tried to compose her expression, although Han suspected the deep pink that now tinted her cheeks wasn't just a reaction to the hot steam. She cast her eyes down and her dark lashes fluttered against her cheeks for a second as Han watched her trying to come up with something to say. Although he knew it wouldn't last long, deep down he was delighted to have rendered her speechless. He had zero intentions of ever trying to introduce a third party into their bedroom—in fact, the idea left him completely cold—but he knew the mere suggestion of it would be scandalous to Leia's relatively genteel sensibilities. She might be learning how to drive him out of his mind, he thought, but he could still get a pretty good rise out of her, too.
True to form, Leia recovered both her composure and her mettle quickly. She stepped back to reach for her glass, flashed him a smile, and took a sip. Lowering the flute, she licked her lips, her eyes remaining locked on his, and set the glass back on the counter. Then, crossing her arms in front of her body, she took hold of the bottom edge of her tunic and pulled it up, turning it inside out as she tugged it over her head in one smooth motion. She extended her arm, allowing the garment to dangle from her fingers for a moment, and then dropped it to the floor.
Feeling as though the temperature of the water had risen by a few degrees, Han was suddenly finding it a little more difficult to breathe normally. Sure, she might like watching him take his clothes off, but he would wager the codes to the Falcon on the fact that his profound enjoyment of watching her disrobe outstripped hers by a long shot. He did more than merely appreciate her display; he relished it like a gourmand would relish the rarest of delicacies, and savored it slowly, as if he were delighting in the most delectable morsel of food in the galaxy. The simple fact that this was Leia undressing for him—the thoroughly vexing, sharp-tongued little hothead who'd captured his heart and driven him nuts with frustrated longing for years—made Han's blood thunder in his veins.
Her dark eyes, sparkling with singular intent, never wavered from Han's rapt gaze as she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her trousers and shimmied them down over her hips, the loose, silky fabric sliding easily down her slim legs to puddle at her feet. She stepped free and nudged them aside with her toe, and then stood for a moment, clad in nothing but her pale pink underthings and the demure expression she was clearly trying very hard to maintain. Han raked his eyes over her figure, feeling his breathing change and grow heavier as his body responded to the luscious sight of her.
She reached behind her back to unhook the clasp of her bra and then, keeping one arm wrapped around herself to hold the garment in place, turned her back to Han once more to take another sip of wine. Once she'd set the flute back down, she slipped the straps of her bra from her shoulders and dropped it to the side, leaving Han to gape at her naked back. His gaze wandered down from the delicate nape of her neck, following the line of her spine to her hips and down to her bare legs. She was lithe; fine-boned, feminine and petite, but possessed of a supple and athletic grace in her form that he never tired of admiring. Her skin was creamy pale, but kissed now with the faintest tinge of pink from the warmth of the steam that filled the room. Han's eyes fastened on her only remaining garment, something he'd bought for her on a recent trip to Sacorria: a pair of tiny, high-cut lace panties that hugged her curves like a second skin. The pleasure of seeing her adorned in the beautiful lingerie he'd selected for her was eclipsed only by the pleasure of watching her take it off, and he waited with bated breath to see her remove that last item. Instead, as he stared, Leia reached up to unfasten the pins that held her hair. Releasing the loose knot at the nape of her neck, she shook out her long tresses and let them tumble across her shoulders and down her back, until they fell at last in a heavy, silken curtain that hung in thick waves almost to her hips. Han gave a little groan.
"Leia, you're killin' me," he rasped. "Are you gonna get in here, or do I have to come out there and get you?" He knew he'd lost their tacit little game by voicing that entreaty but he didn't care. He wanted to gather those long, dark locks in his hands and bury his face in them; he needed to feel her skin under his fingertips, to taste her on his tongue.
Leia tossed Han a backward glance over her shoulder and gave him a little smirk, though she must have agreed she'd tortured him enough. Turning, she approached the tub, and set her glass on the tiled edge next to Han's before ascending the first step, where she paused and regarded him with a curious mixture of anticipation and expectation. Han's eyes roamed her body, drinking in the sight of her beguiling him with nothing more than her bare skin, the glorious hair that spilled over her shoulder to veil one bare, lovely breast, and the weighty gaze of her dark brown eyes. At this distance, the soft, ambient glow from the recessed lighting overhead revealed every freckle and birthmark, and her many scars—all forming a distinctive map on her luminous skin; one that Han could see and feel, and one that he knew by now as well as he knew his own.
She didn't need to speak a word. Han sat up and shifted over until he was eye level with her hips, sloshing a cascade of bubbles over the raised edge of the tub as he moved. Dripping water and with scented foam clinging to his chest and arms, he slipped wet hands around her waist and flexed her body marginally closer to his mouth, brushing a kiss across the skin of her belly. He felt her tremble under his feather-light touch, and allowed his lips to travel lower still, down over the narrow scrap of lace that barely covered the apex of her thighs, breathing her in as his fingers trailed along the scalloped edge where the silken fabric met pale, soft flesh. Leia dropped her head back and threaded her fingers through his hair, a low sound escaping her lips. Hooking his fingers under the thin material, Han drew the garment down over the curve of her hips to her upper thighs, pausing to press a kiss to the soft curls underneath, and then all the way down to pool around her slim ankles. With the fingertips of one hand resting lightly on his shoulder for balance, Leia lifted each foot in turn to aid him, and then he tossed the item aside to lay with the rest of the discarded clothing strewn carelessly across the tiled floor.
Taking Han's proffered hand, Leia allowed him to assist her in stepping over the edge and down into the center of the deep tub, before moving around to take a seat in the opposite curve. Han released her with some reluctance and watched as she sank down across from him into the bubbling jets of perfumed water. He grinned, hearing her gasp and seeing her eyes roll back in sheer bliss as the hot effervescence enveloped her. The little groan of pleasure she emitted then only served to ramp up the desire she'd stoked in Han with her talk of fantasies and her demure little striptease. He wanted her again, though they'd been entwined together naked on their bedroom floor not long ago. Before Leia, he'd never felt a continual want like that; far from quenching his desires, every encounter they shared seemed to intensify his craving for the next. It wasn't just the physical pleasure she gave him, although that was exquisitely good; it was the element of close intimacy they shared; the openness, trust and vulnerability she showed him and that he was—somehow, miraculously—able to show her in return, that Han had never experienced with anyone else. Watching her now, submerged up to her shoulders with her eyes closed and the long, dark tendrils of her hair floating and swirling all around her in the water, Han knew he'd never get over it—the thrill of seeing Leia arrayed before him, unreservedly bare and smiling serenely in a state of profound relaxation. Moments like this would never seem commonplace.
"I've never taken a bath with another person," Leia murmured in a drowsy, languid voice. Keeping the back of her neck propped against the curved edge of the tub and her arms extended to either side, she hooked her fingers lightly onto the lip of the tub and slid a little deeper into the water, letting the water bubble just underneath her chin. Opening her eyes, she met Han's gaze through the rising steam and asked, "Have you?"
Oh, so that was the venture she had in mind, Han realized. She'd promised to let him in on a few more secrets, but Leia Organa was a consummate negotiator. After teasing him with a fleeting glimpse into her innermost erotic thoughts and subtly introducing her terms, she was going to make him work for more. Now it was his turn to share.
"Once or twice," he conceded, matter-of-factly. "Long time ago."
Sighing, Leia allowed her eyes to slip closed again, then fully extended her legs between Han's own much longer limbs, her toes just barely brushing against Han's skin, but stirring the water between his thighs. His groin tightened. Cracking open one eye, Leia met his gaze again and smirked. "I like it so far."
Han laughed. "I like it, too, Princess," he smiled, sliding his hands under the water to find her feet where they drifted between his legs. Capturing one slippery foot between his palms, he rubbed his thumbs up the length of the arch to her toes, kneading the delicate tissues with firm but gentle pressure. He couldn't help but smile at the little grunts of satisfaction elicited by his attentions. Her foot was tiny, small enough that his broad hands easily encompassed it in its entirety, and he rhythmically massaged the whole of it with slow, firm strokes, using his fingertips to gently caress between her toes and then rubbing his way up to her ankle. Sinking down a little further into the bubbling water, he slid his hands higher, working the firm muscles of her calf, skimming thousands of infinitesimal air bubbles from her skin as he stroked her, before venturing up to graze the thin skin and tendons at the back of her knee. Leia's eyes were closed once more and he believed her to be blissfully oblivious to anything other than his touch—but then he felt her other foot nudging against his inner thigh. Taking advantage of his change in position, she eased it a little higher, pressing a warm line up the length of his muscle with the pad of her toe. Han felt a slow smile spreading across his face as she made her subaquatic move, sliding the soft edge of her foot over the skin between his legs; tentatively at first, and then with purposeful intent. Her toes were incredibly soft and remarkably dexterous, he discovered, but it was more the novelty of the maneuver that made Han's eyebrows climb. Leia opened her eyes and, holding his gaze, used the pads of her toes in delicate exploration, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous gleam as she sought to measure his response. His body—already in a state of readiness from watching her undress—reacted swiftly and powerfully to the soft manipulations of her foot. Leia grinned, triumphant, and then withdrew, dragging the smooth curve of her instep back down the length of his thigh as she went.
"Where you takin' them toes, Princess?" Han queried with a light, playful tone.
"Just switching sides," she assured him. With a little splash, she gently extracted the foot he held in his grasp and replaced it with the one that had completed its wandering journey up and down his thigh. "Carry on."
Han leaned back against the tub and released a contented sigh as he commenced to caress and stroke the foot he now held between his hands. He was more than happy to carry on and, to his utter delight, so was Leia. In fact, she carried on for quite a while,until his breath grew short and he began to contemplate the logistics of getting her out of the tub and into bed—only they didn't actually have a bed, he remembered, opening his eyes.
"Hey," he inquired in a lazy drawl, swimming up from the depths of mindless pleasure into which she'd immersed him. He lifted his head from the edge of the tub where he'd propped it and tried to focus on her face, blinking blearily at her through the clouds of fragrant steam. "Where did Gurk put the stuff he brought up, anyway? I don't remember seeing anything in the bedroom when I came in."
"I had him put everything in the living room," Leia explained. She hitched herself up to sit against the side of the tub, looking more than a little smug at Han's dazed state, and then smirked at the look of disappointment he flashed her as she withdrew her foot from his lap. "He's Drallan, you know, so he brought us a mountain of bedding and then—well, just wait 'til you see what he did with it. He made such an effort for us, but it took all of my powers of self-control not to laugh."
"Maybe we'd better wash up and head out there, then," Han prompted. "Parts of me are starting to shrivel up in here."
Leia's dark eyes dropped down to where Han's lower body was obscured by the roiling water, and then drifted back up to meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with an impish twinkle. "And other parts definitely are not," she observed.
Han grinned. "I had no idea you had such...satisfying feet, Princess." He sat up and leaned toward her, then inched a little closer, causing the whirlpool to slosh and swirl around them. She'd drawn her legs in closer to her body but he ran his hands around under the water, groping for the softness of her skin again. "C'mon, Your Royal Tootsieness, grab the soap and let's get moving."
Leia's laughter bubbled up but she shook her head, mouthing the word tootsieness and rolling her eyes. "Cool your jets, Flyboy. I still have to wash my hair."
Han could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. He would never admit it aloud to anyone else—hell, he hadn't even said as much to Leia—but he had a real thing for her hair. They'd showered together many times now, and he'd even helped her wash her hair before, but those had been perfunctory undertakings, at best; necessary tasks that they'd hurried through to save water on the trip to Bespin or to save time when they were stationed on Endor. Now they had time and water in abundance. The storm outside was still going full-force—Han could hear the distant drone and whistle of the wind even over the bubbling of the whirlpool and the low hum of the autovalet—and he and his princess were going nowhere for the rest of the night.
"Swing around, Sweetheart, and hand me that bottle."
Leia complied readily, swiveling to reach for the shampoo before passing it over her shoulder to Han. She continued her rotation, keeping her knees bent as she scooched down, and then reclined between his legs enough to dip the back of her head into the water and soak her hair. Han stared for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of the foaming water sloshing over her torso, alternately obscuring and revealing her belly and breasts. He felt an unexpected pang of strong emotion—a blend of love and a sort of fierce protectiveness—as he watched her bare herself to him so freely and in such a vulnerable position.
She floated there for a moment, resting her hands on his shins to either side of her body to steady herself, and then smiled up at Han from her upside-down position. The mass of her long dark hair was now afloat all around them in the roiling water, some of the silken strands swirling against the skin of Han's abdomen in a mesmerizing pattern, and some locks drifting deeper in the water to graze his thighs and groin. Never in a million years had he imagined that a woman's hair could do anything for him—not in that way—but he'd acknowledged long ago, at least to himself, that the mere sight of those dark tresses falling loose down her back really turned him on. The feel of her hair now swirling around his body like a live thing, as the tendrils caressed and tickled his skin, made him ache for her in a novel and slightly mystifying way. Baffled by the emergence of what seemed to be a new fetish, he made no move to disturb her. In truth, he hoped that she would linger for a while in that position and let him explore the intriguing sensations a little more, but before he could put the desire into words, she lifted her head and then sat up.
Musing over the fact that he adored literally everything about this woman, from the top of her head down to those talented toes, and drawn by the irresistible allure of her wet, glistening hair, Han set the bottle down on the edge of the tub and reached to gather her tresses in both hands. He was fascinated by the sheer length of it—even longer now, it seemed, due to the weight of the water in it, and darker, too. It was beautiful, ineffably feminine and so intrinsic to Leia, he supposed it was no wonder he had such an affinity for it. He released it slowly from his grasp, allowing the wet strands to slip through his fingers and fall in a heavy mass down over the graceful curve of her back, then watched, captivated, as the ends that hung down below the surface of the water began to billow out once more in the roiling current. With his thighs bracketing her hips, and her body tucked up close against his, the swirling torrent of her hair teased and tickled his bare skin, and Han fought to keep his focus as he retrieved the bottle, uncapped it, and poured a measure of shampoo into one cupped palm. Remembering the lessons she'd given him the first time he'd rendered such services, he lathered the fragrant liquid between his hands and then smoothed it over her hair, working it gently into the crown of her head before beginning to comb it through to the ends. Then, gathering the frothy mass together, he piled it atop her head and began to massage her scalp with his fingertips.
Leia sighed and released a little groan. "Gods, Han….your hands."
He paused and craned his neck around to peer at her profile. "What about 'em?"
"Nnnmnnmmnng," was her inarticulate response as she motioned for him to continue. Her eyes were closed and she sounded almost drugged. "Just...don't stop. Keep doing that."
Han grinned and resumed his ministrations, then paused for a moment to lean in and plant an affectionate kiss on her flushed cheek. "As you wish, Your Highness." He carried on with the slow massage, taking his time and attending to every little sigh and moan she emitted, paying special attention to the sensitive places on her scalp that made her quiver when he grazed them with his fingers. The divine feeling of her soapy hair under his hands and the heady scent of Arallute in the air combined to make Han feel a little drugged himself. He noted with satisfaction how the residual tension in Leia's neck and shoulders visibly dissipated as he worked his way down behind her delicate ears and to the nape of her neck. He continued his caresses long after her hair must have been thoroughly clean—indeed, until her head dropped down so far her chin rested on her chest, and her arms went slack. Unable to resist, he wrapped his arms around her then and pressed a warm kiss to the curve of her shoulder. She stirred and lifted her head, then turned her face to his and offered her lips. They shared a slow, lingering kiss that made Han's entire body thrum, and he had the fleeting thought again that they needed to get out of the tub and into something resembling a bed. That sense of need was heightened when Leia wriggled her hips backwards, wedging herself a little more firmly between his thighs, and rested her hands just above his knees. The slick sensation of her bare skin and the swell of her bottom pressed firmly against his aching groin was tantalizing to the point of distraction. He lifted his hands to her hair again and started unwinding the strands coiled atop her crown.
"You're just...so good at that," Leia sighed, reaching up to comb her fingers through her lathered hair, straightening the locks and letting them fall down over her shoulders.
Han smirked. "I know."
Leia snorted. "Lots of practice, I suppose?" She scooted away from him, creating a current that pulled the water with her as she moved, and sent it splashing back against his chest as she reclined between his legs again, dunking her head back into the water to rinse the suds away.
She squinted up at him as she scrubbed her fingers through her hair, loosening the soap and letting it flow away with the roiling of the water. Han could only hope that her upside-down perspective would disguise the renewed look of unexpected euphoria that he was certain must have washed over his face as her silken hair swished and swirled around his hips once more.
"Practice?" he echoed and then gave a nonchalant shrug. "Only on Chewie. But we don't talk about that."
Leia burst out laughing—a full-throated laugh of surprise that made her whole body shake between Han's knees, the vibrations sending tiny splashes of water up and over her face. He grinned down at her.
"Oh, you are such a —," she sputtered, still laughing as she pulled herself back into a sitting position, her sodden hair streaming water. She twisted around to face him, her eyes sparkling. "You've definitely done that before." It was a statement rather than a question.
"Not before you, Princess," he responded sincerely, then cleared his throat and reached for the shampoo bottle again. The feminine, floral scent of it wouldn't have been his first preference, but he didn't have much of a choice. He tipped a small measure into his hand and set the bottle down before slapping his palm atop his head and getting to work washing his own hair. He gave her a wink. "I'm a quick study."
Leia smiled in acknowledgement of his comment and then gestured towards his hair. "Let me do that," she offered. "It's only fair."
Han readily agreed, especially because the very wet and naked princess was now sitting on her heels facing him, with the steaming water bubbling around her waist and her upper torso covered in patches of foamy soap that slid in a lazy pattern down the lush contours of her bare breasts. He swallowed hard, transfixed by the path of bubbles as they subsided, revealing more and more tempting glimpses of her flushed skin in their wake.
"Damn, Leia," he breathed. "You're so…." His voice trailed off as Leia lifted her hands to his head and started working the shampoo into his short hair. Han felt as though he'd lost the ability to speak, captivated both by the delicious sensation of her delicate fingertips grazing his scalp, and by the mesmerizing sight of her body.
"Like what you see, Flyboy?" Leia's voice was rich with amusement.
Blinking out of his trance, Han could only grunt. He spent a long moment watching the movement of her breasts as she scrunched her fingers through his hair, and then he reached for her. She was so soft and her breasts filled his palms with such a delicious weight that he couldn't help but caress them, running the pads of his thumbs over the stiffening nipples that peeked out from underneath the dissipating layer of bubbles.
Leia's dark lashes veiled her eyes for a moment as she glanced down at what he was doing, then she lifted her gaze to his and he saw the light of pleasure and approval glinting there.
"So...you've never washed anyone else's hair but mine," Leia ventured, turning the conversation back to his earlier comment as she continued to lightly knead his scalp. She sounded intrigued. "Which means I was your first in at least one way. That's interesting."
Han stilled the motion of his hands on her body and fixed her with a solemn gaze. "Sweetheart, you're a first for me in a lot of ways."
"Is that so?" she challenged lightly, sliding her fingers through the hair at his temples, then curling them around his ears. "Name one."
"Those toes, for a start."
Leia laughed.
"Where'd you get that idea, anyway?" Han queried, watching her face.
"I have a vivid imagination," she said, and then quirked up one fine eyebrow. "And the holonet."
Han gave her a fond smile. "You been studying up on techniques, Princess? Trying to impress me?"
Leia's expression changed and her eyes slid away; she looked suddenly, unaccountably shy. Giving a little shrug, she reached over to the edge of the tub for the bottle of liquid soap the concierge had supplied, then glanced around the edge of the tiled surround, her brow furrowing. "Hmm. Looks like Mister Gurk forgot to bring us a sponge or anything to wash with," she remarked.
Her silence in response to his gibe gave Han pause, striking a tiny chord of disquiet in what had been an otherwise thoroughly pleasurable interlude. It wasn't at all like Leia to ignore an egotistical remark like that from him; in fact, it was part of their everyday repartee for him to throw aloft some conceited quip or other, and for her to shoot it down. The banter between them had long been their peculiar form of foreplay, and Han always enjoyed it. He thought Leia did, too, but the absence of a tart retort to his teasing made him wonder. "Hey, Sweetheart," he murmured, and then waited until she flicked her eyes back up to meet his. "I didn't mean—"
"I'm not trying to impress you," Leia interjected, her dark eyes flashing. She bit the inside of her cheek and then gave a little huff of impatience. "That's not the right word." Her shoulders sagged a bit as she dropped her gaze down to focus on the bubbling water between them, and then slanted a glance back upwards through her lashes. "But I am…just…." She faltered again, appearing to struggle for a moment to choose her next words. Finally, she gave a resigned little shrug and a faint, self-conscious smile. "I want to please you."
Han's heart clenched and he gaped at her, momentarily at a loss for words in the face of such a vulnerable confession. Leia was always so perfectly confident and self-assured, he sometimes lost sight of the fact that her experience of intimacy was relatively limited, and she was still finding her way. He slid his hands down to her waist and applied a gentle traction, seeking to pull her closer. Pliantly, Leia shifted in the water, coming up to her knees for a moment and then moving to sit astride him. Han straightened his legs beneath her as she settled, warmly welcoming the weight of her across his lap. She nestled in close, fitting her body to his, and slipped her arms around his neck, but her eyes still skated away. He could see the barely perceptible working of her jaw, the telltale sign that she was nibbling the inside of her cheek again, signaling her mild discomfiture.
"Leia," Han lifted a wet hand up to cup her face, running his thumb along the curve of her cheek and waiting until she returned her gaze to his once more. Her brown eyes were liquid in the shimmering light reflected from the water. "You don't even need to try, mielo," he murmured, inadvertently lapsing into his native tongue as he tried to convey the depth of his feeling on this important point. "I don't want you to—. Look...I mean—." He took a deep breath to clear the jumble of words crowding his mouth, as he tightened one embracing arm around her waist and tried again. "You do please me, Sweetheart," he assured her, weighting his voice with deepest sincerity. He skimmed his thumb over her cheek again in a loving caress. Another thought suddenly struck him then—a reason, perhaps, for Leia to be thinking along these lines in the first place—and he blurted, "Wait a minute. Do I please you?"
Leia blinked, looking slightly startled, and then broke into a wide smile before leaning in to capture his mouth in a tender, reassuring kiss. Drawing back, she met his gaze and said solemnly and with firm conviction, "Yes."
"Phew," Han grinned. "Had me worried there."
Leia snorted gently. "Oh, you know you have nothing to worry about in that department, Hotshot. I think I've been...quite explicit on that point." Her cheeks tinted pink. "And I know I please you, too, Han. I do know that," she emphasized, meeting his gaze. "It's just…well...I don't really have any frame of reference, you know...and I would hate to think…." she trailed off, biting her lip.
"What?" he urged.
"That with my...lack of experience...you'd ever get…." She bowed her head as she was speaking, and Han strained to hear the final word that was lost amid the sound of bubbling water. In all the years he'd known her, Han had never seen the princess so discomfited or so tongue-tied.
"What, Leia?"
She squirmed a little. "...bored," she said at last, raising eyes that held an uncharacteristic diffidence in their depths.
A bark of laughter escaped Han before he could suppress it. "Bored?" he echoed, his voice strained with disbelief. "With you? Sweetheart, bored is the furthest thing from my mind when I'm with you. You blow my mind."
Leia rolled her eyes and pushed the flats of her hands against his shoulders. "Oh, don't. I know I keep you on your toes in every other aspect —"
"Hey," Han sobered and tightened his grip on her, willing her to feel the strength of his conviction on this subject. "In every aspect, Leia. I mean it. Look —"
"Han," Leia interrupted, "you can't tell me that this...with me...is the most outrageous or exciting —"
He held up an interdicting finger. "Not the most outrageous, no," he conceded. "But the most exciting? It sure as hell is."
Although Leia seemed to appreciate the sentiment behind his comment, he could see the shade of skepticism lurking in her eyes and he felt the strong urge to clear some things up between them, absolutely and unequivocally, once and for all. If he was gonna do this with her, he realized, conscious of a sudden fierce resolve on the matter, he was gonna go all-in.
"Sweetheart, this…," he let his eyes roam the room and then lifted his hands out of the water to spread his arms wide, trying to indicate the entirety of the new life they were establishing. "This thing we're doing together...it is the most exciting thing I've ever done. With any woman. With anyone. Hands down, no competition."
Leia gave him a dubious smile. "Right, but—"
"No buts, I mean it. C'mere." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and drew her close, raining kisses all over her face.
Leia squirmed and laughed, trying to extricate her slippery limbs from his wet grasp. Then her laughter subsided and, planting a hand against his chest, she pushed him gently back and regarded him with a serious expression. "Honestly, though, I meant—"
"I know what you meant," he assured her. "We're talking about the same thing, here. This, with you, it…it thrills me, Leia. Everything we do together, with each other, to each other, is just…." he trailed off, lost for words sufficient to describe the depth of his feelings.
She cast him a sidelong glance. "It's just...what?"
"It's just...the best," he averred in a tone of absolute finality. "We can watch all the kinky holos you want, Sweetheart," he continued, smiling at the brief sparkle that flashed in her eyes at that possibility, "and we can try anything you wanna try. Hey, I'm game. But I don't need acrobatics or gimmicks or costumes or anything outrageous to turn me on. What turns me on is you. You wanting to be with me, being yourself with me, doing whatever you want to do with me. That's exciting. And trust me, Princess, I ain't ever gonna get bored with that."
With her eyes now trained on the roiling water, Leia inhaled deeply, seeming to ponder over his words for a moment, and then a slow smile crossed her face. She shifted to resettle herself across his lap, laced her fingers behind his head, and then slanted a glance up to meet his eyes once more. In that moment, Han knew that his impassioned little speech had resonated with her and settled any lingering doubts.
"No acrobatics, huh?" she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.
Han raised one eyebrow. "Well...maybe just a few…on special occasions. Why? You got some new moves to show me?"
"Maybe later," Leia smirked. "And did you say no costumes, too? Does that mean I can ditch the fancy lingerie and go back to wearing standard-issue Alliance underwear?"
Han glowered at her. "Don't even joke about that."
Leia threw back her head and laughed, and Han took the opportunity to dip his head down to kiss her throat. Now that he'd successfully navigated through that unexpected asteroid field he was keen to get them back on course. Leia seemed similarly motivated, he was pleased to note, as he trailed more kisses up the side of her neck and nuzzled behind her ear. Straightening slightly, Leia tilted her face to his and found his mouth. Her slow, tender kiss rekindled the warm glow that coursed through Han's body, dimming only slightly when Leia retreated, drawing back with the light of curiosity dancing in her eyes.
"So...what is the most outrageous thing you've ever done?" she queried. Her venturesome spark had returned, lighting up her pretty face with renewed enthusiasm.
Han smirked, rolling his eyes at her continued line of questioning. "With a woman?" he gibed.
Leia looked mildly startled. "Well, have you ever been with a man?"
Han laughed and pulled her closer, peppering kisses along the curve of her jaw. "Never. Not my thing, Sweetheart."
"Cross species?"
Han cringed inwardly. He hoped she didn't question him too much about that one. It had been so long ago that his memory was hazy; and besides, he'd been very, very drunk. "Yes…technically…I suppose." He waited with some trepidation for her to probe for further details along those lines, but she let him slide, already intent upon her next question.
"More than one person at a time?"
Han paused for a second and then gave a short nod, quirking his lips to one side but remaining silent. He thought the less said about that, too, the better. Briefly, he wondered if his admission would shock her, but Leia only nodded back, and offered a curious smile. "So...how was it?" she pressed.
Han drew in a deep breath, letting his eyes roam all around the room as he took a moment to think and to weigh his answer. Finally, he looked at her, shrugged, and expelled his breath in a rush. "Overrated."
Leia laughed again. "Good. Because that's one thing I have no interest in experiencing."
Han was glad to hear it; he didn't like the idea of sharing Leia's affections with anyone else—the intimacy and trust between them was something special and, to his mind, intensely private. He was gratified to know she felt the same way.
"Sounds like I have a little catching up to do, though," Leia mused aloud. "So far, this is the most outrageous thing I've ever done: sitting naked in the bath with a man…." As she spoke, she reached up to thread her fingers through his lathered hair once more, smirking a little as she sculpted the short strands into comical shapes that evidently amused her.
"Not only that," Han pointed out, quirking up one eyebrow and affecting an exaggerated, ribald leer, "but since Gurk forgot the sponges, I'm gonna have to wash you with my bare hands." To emphasize his point, he skimmed his palms up the length of her sides, delighting in Leia's low murmur of appreciation and the shiver he elicited with his wandering caress.
"Yes, which means I'm going to have to wash you with my bare hands, too," Leia pointed out, matching his flirtatious stare with a playfully lascivious ogle of her own.
"Gee, that's too bad," Han deadpanned. "Guess I'll have to suffer through it, somehow."
To his delight, Leia set to work immediately, reaching for the liquid soap and tipping a measure into her palm before handing him the bottle and lathering her hands together. She started with his forehead, the pads of her fingertips making tiny circles on his skin along his hairline and tracing the shape of his brows and all around his eyes before making her way down the bridge of his nose, pausing to plop a dollop of foam on the tip with a mischievous wink. In this careful fashion, she washed and rinsed his entire face and then turned her attention to his ears and neck. The bottle of soap drifted from Han's fingertips and went bobbing around the whirlpool, forgotten, as he relaxed into the curve of the tub, closed his eyes and tilted his chin up to give her access to his throat. Leia flexed against him as she worked, and he had no doubt that every slippery movement of her body was calculated and deliberate, as was the occasional tantalizing brush of her nipples against his chest. That sensation, together with the friction of her soft thighs gliding over his as her fingers simultaneously caressed and lathered the skin of his chest and shoulders, was heady enough. But when she began to writhe slowly in his lap, her knees tightening around his hips under the water as she pressed the crux of her body against his, the ache for her that had subsided only marginally during their heartfelt exposition came surging back.
With a groan, he cracked open one eye and fumbled for the bottle of soap, which was now bobbing against the side of the tub, trapped in an eddy. Tipping a generous amount into his palm, he released the bottle back to the current and rubbed his hands together, and then set to work washing Leia's lithe form. She leaned back slightly to aid his reach, and he smoothed the rich lather first over the curve of her shoulders, and then traveled in an upward path along the soft angles of her neck, sliding synchronized fingers and thumbs behind and around her ears before skimming down over the front to the little hollow at the base of her throat. He continued across her collarbones, stroking and working the lather in a light, circular pattern, and then lifted one graceful arm out of the water to follow a slick path down towards her wrist. Cradling her hand in his, he stroked his thumb across her palm and, turning her hand over, massaged the back, working his way down to the tips of her delicate fingers with gentle precision. When he released her hand to repeat the motion on the other side, she dropped it down to his chest and began tracing a fingertip through the foamy soap that still clung to his skin.
"I love you so much, Han," she said suddenly, the words erupting from her in a rush that sounded almost confessional, as if it were something he didn't already know.
Han paused what he was doing and leaned into her, nudging her cheek with his nose, seeking a kiss. She gave him one—a sweet kiss infused with all of her love and trust and longing, as she drew her hands up to frame his face between her palms. He returned her kiss with warmth, sliding his soapy hands all around her slender body as his mouth devoured hers. When they broke apart, he caught her gaze and said, "I know, Sweetheart. I told you, you're a first for me in a lot of ways, and that's one of 'em. For the first time in my life, I really do know what that means."
Leia stared at him, breath suspended for a heartbeat, and then she broke into the brightest smile he'd ever seen, a smile that crinkled her eyes and showed her even white teeth. He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, and then another to her jaw before pressing his lips to her ear and murmuring with heartfelt sincerity, "I love you, too."
Then her arms were around his neck again, pulling him close, her breasts pressed flat against his chest as she kissed him with ardent intensity. Han groaned and deepened the kiss, hungrily stroking her tongue with his as he ran his wet hands up and down her spine, sliding along the soft contours of her bare back and shivering with pleasure as her wet hair brushed against the back of his wrists. Abruptly, he decided that both he and the princess were plenty clean enough.
"C'mon, Sweetheart," he breathed against her parted lips when they finally broke for air. "We gotta get outta this tub."
"What's wrong with here?" she queried, drawing back a touch to meet his gaze. She pressed her core against his rigid length under the bubbling water. "Feels good to me," she sighed.
"Yeah, well," Han grimaced. "It won't feel good for long."
Leia blinked. "Don't tell me that hot tub sex is overrated, too?"
Han gave a little wince. Although distant memory urged him to avoid the act, it occurred to him suddenly that if Leia were ever going to undertake that particular experience, it was going to be with him—he certainly hoped it would only ever be with him—and he didn't want to deprive her of the opportunity to satisfy her curiosity. "Only one way to find out, Sweetheart," he smiled, and slid his hands down to her hips. "C'mere."
They were already so close, their bodies pressed so intimately together, it took only a slight adjustment, the tiniest shift of position on Leia's part, to bring Han's straining erection into place. As Leia took him slowly into her body and settled her weight across his hips once more, he had the fleeting thought that his prior recollections must be faulty. The sensation of her enveloping him was so deeply pleasurable, he felt his eyes roll back, and then he dropped his head back on the edge of the tub for a moment to concentrate on the sensation. Leia undulated against him and he groaned, overwhelmed by the molten heat of her, even hotter than the surrounding water, and so blissfully soft and tight. His hands gripped and kneaded the flesh of her bottom, pulling her against him as his body began to move instinctively, while all around them the effervescent water roiled and bubbled. Leia clung to him, her fingers gripping his shoulders for leverage as she moved, her lips at his ear whispering both her pleasure and her desire.
Her whispers changed tenor, though, after a few moments, and then her movements ceased. Han lifted his eyes to hers and gave her a knowing smile.
"Umm...I think I see what you mean," Leia murmured, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
Han offered an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, Sweetheart. Why don't we move this into the bedroom...or the living room, wherever that pile of blankets is."
Leia nodded her acquiescence and was preparing to make a move when they were plunged into sudden darkness, and the turbulent water around them abruptly stilled. Leia gasped and Han tensed, cursing himself for a fool for leaving his blaster in the bag atop the vanity counter. In a blink, he found himself calculating the moves it would take him to reach it—to dislodge Leia, vault out of the tub, and reach his weapon before the threat, whatever it was, could make an appearance at the fresher door.
"Han," Leia soothed, evidently reading the tension in his body and realizing where his thoughts had gone. With the fresher door closed, the windowless room was completely dark, but her fingertips easily found his face and she gave his jaw a calming caress. "It's just the storm."
As soon as she said it, he realized she was probably right. In the sudden hush created by the silencing of both the bubbling bath and the humming autovalet, he could hear the distant clamor of the rain that continued to lash against the windows, along with the muffled rumbling of thunder. He gave a short laugh. "I'm gettin' soft," he observed, blinking ineffectively against the pitch blackness. "My blaster's all the way across the damn room."
"Some bodyguard you are," she agreed dryly.
Indignant, Han jostled her in his lap. "Yeah, well, where's your weapon, Princess Smartypants?"
"Funny you should ask," she retorted. He felt her weight shift as she stretched across, and then heard her fumbling around in the area atop the tiled surround where the stack of towels resided. After a moment, she settled back across his lap, found his hand by feel, and then planted what felt like a tiny holdout blaster in his palm. "Right here, Hotshot."
Han gaped, grateful that she couldn't see his face. "What's this? A Czerka-77?"
"T-3," Leia corrected, her voice sounding more than a little smug. Even in the dark, he could sense the radiant glow of her triumphant smirk. "The 77's too big for me."
"Nice," Han pronounced. He was impressed and didn't mind showing it. Trust Leia to bring a blaster pistol to a bubble bath, he mused, unable to suppress a grin.
"Can you give me your hand?" Leia requested as she eased from his lap. He felt her rise above him, droplets of water raining down on him as she stood up in the tub. He gave her his hand to steady her as she stepped out and down the shallow steps, then held out the blaster pistol for her to take. She reached for it in the dark and he heard her soft footsteps padding over the tiled floor.
"Cover me," he joked, scooching down in the tub and reclining back to dip his head into the water. "I gotta get this shampoo out." He scrubbed his fingers through his hair a few times to rid it of suds, then sat up and sluiced himself off with cupped handfuls of water, before climbing to his feet and preparing to exit the bath.
"Can you even see what you're doing over there?" came Leia's query from across the room.
"I don't need to see. I think I can find my way around my own body in the dark, Sweetheart," he said dryly, stepping with care down to the floor, and then turning to grope around the tiled surround for one of the towels.
"Good to know," Leia responded, her rich voice taking on a teasing tone. He heard her soft footsteps as she crossed the floor, and then the sound of the fresher door being manually released. The spacious room was faintly illuminated by grey light streaming in from the bedroom windows. Leia paused in the doorway, her lithe, feminine figure and the trailing tendrils of her long hair silhouetted against the dim backdrop. "Considering we may be without lights for a while…" She cast a coy glance in his direction as she turned away, and the sound of her voice drifted behind her as she disappeared from view. "Think you can find your way around mine?"
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