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Solo slid into the small booth nearly hip-to-hip with Din and spread both arms along the back of the seats. “So, things are getting pretty serious between you and farm boy, hm?”
“Yes,” Din agreed cautiously, not sure what kind of conversation he was in for with Luke’s best friend and brother-in-law.
Solo was inebriated, head lolling around his loose shoulders, fingers tapping in a broken rhythm on the vinyl seat behind Din’s neck. The glass he plunked down next to Din was already two-thirds of the way drained, the remaining liquid mostly ice water.
“Do you wanna hear a secret?” Solo whispered conspiratorially.
Din tilted his helmet towards him.
“Luke and Leia made out once.”
Din froze. “Pardon?”
Solo repeated, “Luke and Leia made out once. I saw it.”
“What?” Din hissed.
“They k - i - s - s - e - d. Kissed.”
Din stared at Solo, taking in his glassy eyes and sweat-slicked forehead. He then glanced over at the bar, where Luke and Leia were talking shoulder-to-shoulder. Luke’s handsome face was flushed and half-covered by a glass of ale so large that his hand barely wrapped around it. Leia’s red-tipped nails were pushing through Luke’s hair, brushing his bangs out of his face. They were both smiling at each other the way mutually drunk friends or siblings do. That’s all.
“Don’t tell me,” Din said at last. “I don’t want to know.”
Solo snorted and explained anyway, “It was all about me, really. The kissing, that is.”
“That...doesn’t make it sound any better, honestly.”
Din removed himself from the booth and attempted to put Solo’s secret out of his mind, certain that nothing good could come from the former smuggler spinning tales about...utter nonsense. Din made his way over to Luke and plastered himself to Luke’s other side, the side that Leia wasn’t on. He tried to focus on what they were saying, but he was distracted, unable to keep himself from observing their interactions in a new light. Kriff Han Solo!
After sucking down two Corellian Constellations through a swirly straw that Solo had produced out of nowhere, Din found himself dragging Solo by the elbow back to the small, dark booth across from the bar, where they had a clear view of Luke and Leia talking. Talking and touching. Her hand was on his shoulder. His hand was around her waist. Sometimes she hit him lightly, teasingly, and other times he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. It was maddening to watch with Solo’s words playing on a loop in the back of his buzzed mind.
Ensconced in the booth, Din glared at Solo from behind his visor. “Spill.”
Solo graced him with a sly, knowing smirk that slowly spread across his face like a sunrise. “You have to know now, don’t you?”
“Yes, I have to know,” Din admitted dejectedly. He pulled Solo closer so he could whisper the fear that was plaguing him before he lost his liquid courage. “He’s not going to...invite her into our bed, is he?” The panic in his barely-there voice was plain.
Solo laughed heartily, slapping Din on the back. “Never been with twins before, eh?” Din didn’t respond immediately, and Solo left his arm slung around Din’s back. Din keenly felt the absence of his jetpack. “Or is it that beautiful women aren’t your thing?”
Din made a choked sound, and Solo patted his back again.
“You’re not even a little bi, are you?”
Din spluttered. “I’ve been with female-identifying species before,” he muttered, his eyes locked on Leia as she threw her head back and laughed at something Luke said, exposing the long line of her throat that followed skin all the way down her chest to a low-cut top, artfully draped to accentuate her bosom. “She’s just so….”
“Yeah,” Solo agreed, chuckling lowly. He sounded proud.
Oh right. Married. They were married. Did that mean…? If Luke was working up to springing Leia on him, was it a package deal with Solo?! Din groaned and buried his head in his hands on the table in front of him.
Solo patted his helmet in a ‘there, there’ motion. It was not comforting.
“Mando, Mando, I promise you Luke is not secretly buttering you up for a twin orgy, okay? Now, let me get back to my story. About them kissing.”
Din dragged his head up and blearily looked at the man’s very annoying, very cocky face. “Right…” He decided to turn his head to look at Luke instead, a bit longingly. Luke was leaning against the bar in a way that pushed his pert ass out at an angle, highlighting it for the entire cantina to ogle. Din sipped at his drink some more, pouting.
“You’re checking my friend’s ass out right now, aren’t you?”
Din coughed as some of the alcohol went down the wrong pipe, waving his hand in denial.
“So anyway,” Han said, face so close that Din could smell the alcohol on his breath from beneath his helmet. “There we were on Hoth. Miserable, cold bitch of a planet. And yours truly had just rescued lover boy there from certain frozen death.”
Hard to believe, but okay.
“Leia and I had been fightin’, as we do.”
That was more believable.
“And she wanted to prove she likes nice men, like your boy there.” Solo gestured to Luke.
Din started, “Luke is--”
“A nice boy,” Solo finished insistently. “A good boy. Yeah, and I had pushed all her highness’s buttons, got her all hot and bothered. And she wanted to teach me a lesson.”
“Which I’m sure you learned nothing from.”
“Just wait,” Solo said, holding up a finger. He then dipped his finger in his refilled glass and traced the rim in lazy circles, making it sing. “So Leia wanted to show me she likes nice boys, like you do, even though obviously she likes scoundrels, like me.”
Accepting the premise on a hypothetical basis, Din prompted, “And?”
“And she grabbed Luke by the collar with both hands and planted a big, wet kiss on his lips. Right in front of me.” Solo followed up his pronouncement with a wet smack of his lips to the air.
Din was horribly riveted by the story, even as his eyes were tracking Luke and Leia at the bar, still entwined with each other.
“I can’t prove there was tongue,” Solo said with the sagacity of a man three sheets to the wind, “but I know there was tongue.”
Din dropped his helmet into his hands again. “I’m not sure I believe any of this.”
“Don’t take my word for it,” Solo defended. “Ask Chewie. Or the droids! Luke’n Leia weren’t exactly shy about the audience. Like I said, it was all about me anyway. They kissed for my benefit.”
“Right,” Din said dubiously, “she kissed Luke because she liked you.”
“Exactly!” Solo beamed and clinked his glass with Din’s. “Her worshipfulness couldn’t keep her hands off me. That’s why she had to kiss Luke.”
Din downed the rest of his drink in a loud slurp through his straw. “So why’d you tell me this, if it’s some big secret, aside from Chewbacca, Artoo, and Threepio?”
Solo shrugged, slugging back the remainder of his drink, ice and all. After crushing and swallowing the cubes, he said, “A burden shared is a burden lifted, so I’m told.”
“I’m supposed to believe you felt burdened by holding onto this brother-sister kissing secret?”
“Terribly, lonsemely burdened,” Solo drawled. “I feel much better finally having someone to tell.”
Din perked up. “Luke hasn’t been with anyone else you deemed worthy of telling this secret?”
“Nope,” Solo confirmed. “He’s got it bad for you.”
Pleased, Din leaned back against the booth.
Solo grinned at him before rising unsteadily to his feet. As he began to walk towards the bar, he tossed back, “By the way, I should probably have mentioned that they didn’t know they were brother and sister at the time.”
“What?!”
But Solo was already at the bar and looping his arm around Leia’s waist, kissing her cheek. He exchanged words with Luke, and then Luke was searching out Din with furrowed brows and concern in his pale blue eyes.
Luke slid off the stool he was perched on and slinked towards Din like a loth-cat stalking its prey. But nicer. Because Solo was right: Luke was a nice boy. Luke scooted into the booth, tucking himself against Din’s side. “Hey, did Han say something weird to you?”
“No,” Din denied. Secrets were secrets, after all.
“You sure?” Luke pressed, taking one of Din’s hands in his under the table and giving it a comforting squeeze. “You know he’s all talk, right? If he threatened to kill you or something if you hurt me, just ignore him, okay? Plus, the first person he’d hire to do it would be Fett, and you’ve already got him in your pocket.”
Din demurred, “I don’t have Fett in my pocket.”
“I heard differently. I’m from Tatooine,” Luke reminded him. “I hear things.”
“You hear nothing,” Din murmured, stroking his gloved thumb over Luke’s knuckles. “And jealousy is not very becoming of Jedi.”
“M’not jealous,” Luke contended hotly, but placed his own black-gloved hand on the side of Din’s t-visor.
“Neither am I,” Din told him earnestly, even though Luke had no context to know what he was talking about. “In fact, I have a good feeling about us.”
Luke smiled. “Me too, Din. Me too.”