Work Text:
Shampoo
Independence, 5 months after the Battle of Yavin
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"Finally."
Dismissing Chewie with a tired nod of relief, Han sighed as he half dropped his hydrospanner back into his toolbox. This power core upgrade was meant to make life easier, he thought ruefully. Although it took a great deal of his latest Alliance-issued pay packet, and two days of being grounded to install, the three-minute hyperdrive sequence would be worth any amount of credits and cabin fever.
Or so he had thought.
During a test run of their upgrade, some of his intricate wiring work, connecting the power core to the power converters, the hyperdrive, and two of the three droid brains holding the bucket of bolts together, had failed. Spectacularly so.
It turned out that the third droid brain didn't receive the signals concerning the faster sequence, and it engaged a surge in the sublight engines just as the ship was about to go into hyperspace. The new power core overloaded, and the sublights took the brunt. A quick systems shutdown had saved the Falcon from exploding altogether. Still, Han had given the Independence an impressive fireworks show, and had to swallow his pride to ask the Rogues for a 4-ship tow back to the shuttle bay.
Three days later, he and Chewie had now reconstructed the sublight engines, repaired the damage to the new power core, and patched up the connections to avoid another similar disaster. He hoped.
Exhausted from their efforts, and clothes fully soaked in a sticky mixture of sweat, grease, and coolant, Han was in desperate need of a shower, a meal, and sleep, preferably in that order. However, the Falcon's water and food supplies were running low after the latest few missions. Knowing the Rogues and most of the other pilots were off on a training mission, he grabbed some fresh clothes from his quarters, and then made his way up from the hangar bay to their deck.
Han hit the 'freshers first. Although the Alliance was an equal opportunity 'employer', and housed the individuals of a hundred different species and sexes, the 'fresher bay always reminded him of the ones found in the very-much human male Imperial Corps ships. A single small room, coated in waterproof surfacing, with a row of 5 nozzles along one wall, and a bench for keeping dry clothes off a wet floor on the opposite side. Two chutes protruded from the otherwise bare adjacent wall; one holding towels and clean inner wear, the other for logging dirty clothes to be washed. Few modifications were available to cater for species' preferences, and there were no dividers for modesty. Practicality, Han mused. Dying's more concerning than revealing what size your junk is.
Presently, the bay was empty, and so Han held no such concerns. He stripped off his boots and socks, and peeled his grime-soaked shirt, trousers, and under layers from his sturdy frame. Depositing them in the chute and keying in his ID code, he strode over to the 'fresher side. He palmed the water and soap activators, and exhaled contentedly as the warmth washed over him. Decidedly thankful that Independence's Mon Cala designers were aquatic people and disdained the typical sonic 'freshers, he got to work scrubbing the acrid coolant mixture from himself. First working the soap over his shoulders and biceps, before travelling further down his arms, he paid no attention to the door opening behind him.
He could hear the newcomer pause for a moment, softly snorting in frustration. What's your problem, buddy? Han thought to himself. Insecure, are we? He rolled his eyes and continued scrubbing the sticky residue from his chest and stomach.
Evidently, the other being had gotten over their shyness, and deposited their own clothes in the laundry chute. They made their way to the 'fresher nozzle, although, Han noted, they had selected the one farthest away from him.
Getting started on scrubbing the coolant mess out of a rather more delicate area, his 'fresher mate gasped. "Han!" she yelled.
She. He spun around to face the voice. "Leia? Kriff!" Mouth agape, he stood staring at her, catching a glance at her equally surprised expression. Not surprised, exactly...more like horrified. His mental processing caught up as she suddenly flattened herself against the wall, leaving only her back exposed to him. Gaping, he backpedalled. "What I was doing...that wasn't what it looked like!"
She still refused to look at him, and he realised she might have seen more of him than she bargained for. His brain activating his usual fear response, he parried back with bravado. "What, you've never seen a naked man before?" he shot. He put his hands on his hips, jutting his chin out towards her.
"Don't worry, you're not my first," she responded coolly. She turned her head towards him, keeping her body angled away, and her eyes levelled on his face. "None ever uncouth enough for that, though." She practically spat the word at him, a fire starting in her eyes.
"Hey! I already said I wasn't..." Han trailed off, refusing to be put on the defensive. "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought her royal highnessness had her own private fresher, away from the uncouth plebs?" He still faced her, smirking. He willed his eyes to resist dropping to follow her curves, dripping under the continuing 'fresher stream.
"It's broken. And I thought I'd be alone here." Her voice softened for a moment. He almost relented, before he spotted her eyes flicker downwards. She caught his change in mood, and interrupted him mid-smirk. Suddenly snarky again, she challenged him. "I'm sure you've seen enough naked women before. So, if you'd be so kind," she retorted, "turn around and let me finish."
"Whatever you say, princess! I'll even shut my eyes to protect your precious virtue, your highness," Han snarled back, making a show of placing his hand over his eyes, like a child claiming valour in a game of hide and seek. The problem was, his eyes couldn't forget what they had seen, and began recreating images in his mind. Images of a princess now standing in front of him.
Slapping the shampoo activator to snap him out of his reverie, he tried to distract himself as he lathered up his greasy hair. He massaged he foam into his scalp, gently rubbing his pulsing temples. Unbidden, the image rose again, this time of her fingers running through his hair. Unconsciously, he drew a sharp breath.
Her facing him, leaning up against the 'fresher wall. His hands sliding around her waist, down towards those dripping curves. Her leg snaking around his waist, and him leaning into her to close the distance...
"Kriff!" he hissed, louder than intended. His eyes snapped open. Leia was staring at him, first at his face, and then down further. He followed her gaze, tensing as he found its destination. "Ha," he managed, as he hurried out of the fresher and threw his clothes on roughly over his still-wet body, albeit making sure to fasten his trousers carefully.
"See you 'round," he growled, beating a quick retreat from the 'fresher bay.
Stunned, the last thing she saw was Han striding out the door, shampoo still foaming in his hair, muttering something she could only interpret as "think of Jabba, think of Jabba, think of Jabba."
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