a/n: uh oh spaghettios

"The Shower"

It happened so fast that Leia's head spun – both the climax, and the collapse. Han had her in the shower, held tight against the wall, braced up so that he was hitting every spot just right, and the steady pound of the water spray was driving her mad with sensation – rushing water and her own moans were drowning out any other sounds, and when Han pulled her hair surprisingly hard and let loose a string of violent swearing, she just thought he was coming, too.

Until she heard the crack of something heavy smacking the floor of the 'fresher, followed by a hearty thud, and then – slam, that was her own knee, going down hard on the tile, and the breath flew out of her as her forehead banged into Han's shoulder.

She blinked, shocked, and found herself staring at the slick 'fresher floor, her mouth pressed hard against Han's chest and –

Somewhere in the stumble the curtain had come down, too, and water was splashing out onto the floor around the sani. She gasped again, as the pain in her knee radiated over her dully, diminished, thankfully, by the fading orgasm raging through her, and her head spun as she tried to grasp what had happened.

"Han!" she shrieked instinctively, water blurring her vision.

Han groaned, twisting to the side to turn his face away from the onslaught of water. He winced, dazed, unsure if he was willing to believe that had just happened – it appeared he'd found the soap he dropped earlier, right under his foot, right at a key moment when he needed leverage – and everything had happened slow motion as he went down, and tried to grab things and twist around so that Leia felt on top of him instead of the other way around.

He opened one eye to see a bottle of conditioner innocently rolling near his head. He blinked at it dizzily.

"Han," he heard Leia say again.

She smacked her palm against his cheek a little roughly.

"Hey," he growled, and turned his head. He took hold of her – the closest part of her – and squeezed, concerned. "You okay?" he asked, and then furrowed his brow. "Did you slap me?" he demanded.

"You drop me in the shower and the first thing you do is grab my ass?" she retorted, sitting back on him and removing his hand.

He grinned lazily, and tried to sit up with a groan. Leia winced, sitting back on his thighs, his knee – and then gingerly moved away, standing up to turn off the spray of water. She crouched back down, pushing hair out of her face, her eyes wide.

"Han," she said, her voice strained. "Your head's bleeding," she warned, going to her knees and inching over to him. She lifted his head and ran her fingers through his hair; he winced, flinched away, and swore, sitting up slowly. The cut was on the side of his head.

The shower spun. His head pounded. His colour paled.

"Fuck," she uttered in a worried whimper. "It might need stitches. Are you dizzy?"

"What the hell happened?" Han griped, shaking his head. He turned his head away, sheepish.

"You tell me," she said dryly, appraising him worriedly.

Part of her wanted to laugh, part of her was mortified – mostly, she was worried about the head injury. She couldn't carry him anywhere –

"Can you get up, slowly?" she asked. "I'd hate for a transport to have to take you naked to the hospital – "

"Well, put clothes on me first!"

"I can't, you're too big."

"Got that right, Sweetheart," he drawled. "I am big."

She rolled her eyes, sitting back. Her hand slipped off of him. If he was able to crack jokes like that – he was probably okay. But that cut – she began to feel behind over his head again, and he tilted his head back. He groaned – but not in pain.

"I dropped you," he grumbled. "I can't believe I – "

"You broke my fall," she soothed sympathetically.

She shivered, as the steam in the room started to dissipate, and Han reached for her shoulder, rubbing it. He grimaced, and laid back, drawing his knees up and staring up at the ceiling.

"Han, are you - ?"

"'M fine. Just wounded pride."

She crawled over him worriedly, and he smiled at her lazily, reaching up to touch her chin. He slid his hand over her shoulder and down to her hip, tapping her suggestively.

"You could, uh, hop on and finish up," he tried.

She glanced down, shaking her head, looking back up and glaring at him.

"Not an option right now," she informed him, and he groaned – though he figured it shouldn't shock him too much that a nasty tumble lost him his hard-on. "Is that all you can think about? Your brain may be leaking out – "

"The blood's just now rushing back to it, Sweetheart!" he fired back, rolling to the side and tumbling her off of him.

She shivered and swatted at him at being dumped so unceremoniously on the floor, and then rolled herself up in the shower curtain and glared at him. He started laughing, and rolled over, pushing up onto his knees. He rubbed his head.

"At least you came," he muttered moodily.

She snuggled into her shower curtain burrito primly.

"You have to admit, this is a good story," she chirped.

Han gave her an alarmed, incredulous look.

"You tell anyone about this, Leia – " he broke off, scoffing. "You wouldn't. Prude."

"I would so!" she protested, pausing dramatically. "I'm telling Chewie."

Han gave her an affronted look. She inched away, and he sat back on his ankles, glaring at her – and she tried to stop herself from laughing, but she couldn't – there wasn't really a better way to end up tangled in a shower curtain.

-alexandra