Archive of Our Own ^beta

Din was having a bad day. Not your run-of-the-mill bad day where nothing seemed to go his way. That he could handle fine--even, maybe, with finesse, pivoting where he needed to when he needed to. 

Today was worse. Today the universe was seeing how it could stick it to him by making sure the best, prettiest weed dealer he’d ever had decided to break up with him. Luke Skywalker had sent him a message late last night. Din hadn’t seen it until this morning, after he’d rushed into his bar The Razor Crest to get as much work done as he could before Grogu’s pick up time.

“Find another weed guy. I can’t fuck with you...uhmm nothing personal. I can’t fall in love right now and you’re everything I love so if I ever see you again I’ll never let go of your hand soo yeah,” the message read. Din sat in the back office of The Razor Crest staring at his phone’s screen with his mouth hanging open until Boba walked in and laughed at the idiotic expression on his face. He wordlessly got up and showed Boba the message.

“Let me get this straight--no pun intended. Luke wants you to find a new weed dealer because he’s in love with you? Why am I not surprised? Drama queen,” Boba said.

“What do you mean you’re not surprised?” Din asked, his voice rising slightly.

“This is Luke we’re talking about. Of course he’d fall in love with you and then make a big deal out of it.”

Din put his hands on his hips and sighed. Boba had been the one to recommend Luke to him in the first place. 

Boba sat on the edge of his desk. “You gonna fuck him? Or let him stew in his misery?” Boba asked.

Din was definitely too old to blush. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head. 

“You already fucked him?” Boba asked, laughter in his voice.

Fennec breezed into the small room as if she belonged there, a cup from Starbucks in her hand. 

“Who did Djarin fuck?” she asked, as if she was asking if it was supposed to rain.

“Luke,” Boba responded, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Din scrubbed his hands down his face. 

“Oh that sweet twink? Good for you,” Fennec said, taking a sip from her cup.

“I didn’t fuck anyone, okay? We might’ve...made out a little.” Din did not want to be having this conversation right now. Or ever.

“Like a couple of teenagers. Nice,” said Boba. He turned to Fennec. “Luke’s in love with him.”

“He said he doesn’t want to fall in love, not that he is in love,” Din said, before he could think better of it. 

“So Luke’s in love with you,” said Fennec. She raised one of her perfectly groomed eyebrows.

Din could hear Boba snickering. He slumped down into his desk chair, letting his muscles go nearly limp, and then plonked his head onto the surface of the desk. It felt cool against his heated cheek.

Fuck.

Luke was definitely not freaking out. No, he wasn’t freaking out, and he wasn’t going to freak out. Everything was fine.

Everything was on fire, and it was fine...except for the fact that he’d sent Din Djarin a message in his stupidly drunken state late last night. He shouldn’t be allowed to drink and text; he was pretty sure that was something Leia had said to him at least once in the past. He groaned into his pillow. He was still in bed, and the thought of never leaving it was too attractive to resist. He could stay here and never show his face again. That sounded like a good plan. 

Why had he drunk so much last night? Wedge and Lando were enablers. If it wasn’t for them, he wouldn’t have taken that fourth shot of Jose Cuervo. Lando had paid for each round. How could he have said no to free booze?

He turned his head toward his nightstand too fast, searching for his phone, and that’s when the headache hit him. 

“Ow.” He closed his eyes and swallowed.

“I hate everything,” he said to no one, his voice sounding rough from sleep.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, and his stomach flip flopped. Please please please don’t let it be him.

A peek through one eye told him it wasn’t Din. It was Leia. Oh thank fuck.

“Bro, are you okay?” read the message from her. 

He wrote back, “No. I made a huge mistake. Girl, help.”

“Calling you!!” read the message he got back from Leia a few seconds later.

He answered with a sigh, still lying in bed, one hand over his closed eyes.

“What did you do?” asked Leia.

“Hello and good morning to you too, Leia,” he responded.

“You sound hungover,” she said, “and it’s past noon.”

“I might’ve gone out last night.” 

“And? What happened?” she asked.

“Oh, you know, not much. I drunkenly sent Din Djarin a message at two in the morning telling him to find a new weed hookup because I don’t want to fall in love with him. That’s all,” he drawled, cringing as he remembered the words he had sent. He wasn’t sure what he had been thinking. Or maybe he hadn’t been thinking at all. He had been deep in his feelings.

There was a pause on the line. Leia was probably processing what he had said.

“You’re in love with Din?” she finally asked.

“That’s what you got out of that? I’ve embarrassed myself in front of the hot dad, and that’s what you latch onto.” He groaned. 

“I’m going to need to see this message,” Leia said.

“I can’t move.” It was true. Moving hurt. He was never going to drink again. Really, though. This time he meant it.

“I’m coming over,” she said and hung up.

Once Din was home, Grogu playing with his blocks in a corner of the living room, he let his mind wander. It was only the two of them in the apartment. He could sort of let his guard down. The problem was, when his mind wandered tonight, it went straight to a certain blue-eyed, dirty blond-haired man who was nearly a decade his junior and had an unfairly bright smile. And was unfairly good at kissing.

He had learned that Luke was a good kisser purely by accident, of course. He had certainly never intended to kiss him. (He wasn’t celibate, but he also wasn’t dumb.) 

The one time he had gone into Luke’s apartment to pick up some product, they ended up sitting on his couch and talking about Grogu while they passed a joint back and forth. Luke looked at him as if he was interested in what Din was telling him, as if he cared about Grogu’s well-being. And when Din made a stupid dad joke, Luke laughed in what Din was sure was genuine delight. Luke threw back his head, his hair flopping around his ears, the line of his throat on full display. (Granted, they had been smoking, but that didn’t stop Din from feeling a pulse of desire run up his spine.) Luke had a great laugh. It sounded to Din like a bell ringing; it resonated through him. 

Luke’s laughter made Din laugh. It had been the most fun he’d had in a while, he realized later.

After they finished with the joint, Luke asked, “Do you want anything to eat or drink or anything?” His sincere eyes stared into Din, his generous mouth curving slightly in a friendly smile.

While they’d passed the joint back and forth, they had inched closer to each other on the sofa. It had been an almost comfortable companionship, if it hadn’t been for that edge of sexual tension that radiated between them. 

“Din,” Luke said. It sounded like a question. 

They both leaned in then, closing the distance between them. There was a kind of smooshing of their lips together until one of them adjusted, and then they were kissing in earnest. Luke’s hand came up to cradle the side of his face, his touch light as it slid down his neck, nearly making him shiver. Din found himself leaning into that touch and running his fingers into Luke’s floppy hair. It was soft, unfairly soft. Luke moaned into his mouth, a beautiful, willing sound that made Din’s stomach flutter. 

Luke ended up in his lap, which made getting at his mouth, his tongue, a lot easier. They bumped noses and fumbled, Din’s hands going to Luke’s waist, Luke’s fingers digging into his shoulders. Din started to lose himself in the sensations. Luke’s solid weight, their nearly filthy kisses. 

And then someone knocked at the door, and they pulled apart.

“Shit,” Luke said, looking toward the door. “Hold on. I’ll make them go away.”

Once the ball of eager energy that was Luke left his lap, Din realized what he had done. He made his excuses and left, vaguely registering that there was still someone at the door speaking to Luke as he fled.

He didn’t look back as he walked away. 

He was a fucking dick.

Leia bustled into Luke’s apartment, letting herself in with her key. By this point, Luke had gotten dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt and was sitting on the couch nursing a cup of oolong tea and cursing every decision he’d ever made up until now. 

“Oh good, you’re out of bed,” she said. 

He made an “mm” sound in her direction as she sat down next to him and started pulling things out of her giant leather bag. 

“Here, take this,” Leia said, handing him a bottle of painkillers. 

Luke grunted. 

“I know you haven’t taken anything for the headache. Do it.” 

“Fine,” he said, taking the bottle and shaking two out onto his hand before swallowing them down with his tea. There was no use fighting Leia when she was in mama bear mode.

“Now show me the message you sent to Din,” she demanded. After some tapping on his phone screen, he handed the phone over to her, cringing internally at the reminder of his screw up.

After an interminable amount of silence in which Luke sipped his tea--trying his best to let it soothe him from the inside out--and stared at the opposite wall, Leia finally said, “Well it’s not as bad as you made it out to be. You clearly wanted to set a boundary, and...I would say you did that.”

Luke cringed again. 

“I see he hasn’t responded,” she continued. 

“No shit. He probably thinks I’m fucking crazy,” Luke said. 

Leia sighed. “Luke, what exactly prompted this last night? I know you’re a drunk texter, but why tell him this now?”

Luke swallowed and took another sip of tea before launching into a rundown of the night that had sparked off everything for him. If he was honest with himself, he had already thought Din was near perfect in every aspect that he looked for in a partner. But once they had kissed, all bets were off for Luke. There was no going back. 

“Oh, Luke, sometimes I forget what a romantic you are,” Leia said. She was smiling fondly at him. He didn’t deserve her as a twin and a best friend, did he?

“Let me ask you something else,” she continued.

Luke groaned and let his head flop back onto the cushions behind him. “Ow.”

“Would it be so bad if you were in love with him and, you know, explored what might be possible between you?”

“Yes?”

“Why?”

Luke looked down at his fingers, his scarred arms. “He doesn’t want me that way,” he said.

“How do you know? Did you ask him?” Leia asked.

“Why would he want me? He’s a cool, amazing person. I’m just...me.”

It was Leia’s turn to sigh and flop back dramatically, the cushiony arm of the couch catching her. 

“If you could see yourself the way everyone else sees you, the way I see you, you wouldn’t be saying that,” she said.

Luke didn’t say anything, and they sat in the quiet for a moment. 

He hadn’t planned to, but he’d put himself out there in front of Din. He’d come onto him and then emoted all over him, like an idiot.

“Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to try?” Leia said, knocking him out of his thoughts.

“Try what exactly?”

“Talk to him. See what he has to say,” she said.

“Obviously, he has nothing to say. He hasn’t responded, and I don’t blame him.”

“Not to that, you dingus. Your text probably sent some mixed signals. Don’t let him think that you want to push him away because I know that’s not what you really want.”

Luke set his mug of tea on the scuffed coffee table and crossed his arms. “How very dare you.”

Leia merely smiled.

“Why must you always be so reasonable?” he said with a sigh.

“I’m the twin who got the common sense,” she responded.

He stuck his tongue out at her.

“See? I rest my case,” she said.

Later that night, after he’d put Grogu to bed, Fennec asked in her, Boba’s, and his group chat what he had texted Luke in response. (Actually, she’d called Luke “the sweet twink,” but Din had to not think of him that way or his brain would start to melt.)

“Nothing,” he responded. 

“???” was her response.

“You’re not going to say anything?” Boba said.

“What the hell am I supposed to say?”

“You could at least acknowledge that you read the message. Even I would do that,” Boba responded.

“Tell him that you respect his boundaries and that you feel the same??” Fennec said. 

“But I don’t want a new weed guy. He’s perfect,” was Din’s response.

There were the typical dots and both of their usernames typing at the same time.

“HAHAHAHA.” That was Boba.

“You’re an idiot, aren’t you?” Fennec said.

“What?” was Din’s response.

“I stg. You two are perfect for each other,” wrote Fennec.

“Tell him you caught feelings, too, and you don’t mind if he holds your hand and doesn’t let go,” wrote Fennec.

Did...did he feel that way, though? He had never actually held hands with anyone but Grogu. He wasn’t opposed to it. It had just never happened. What would it be like to hold hands with Luke Skywallker? Sunny, pretty, energetic Luke who had always smiled at Din like he meant it.

What rushed over Din then was an unexpected sensation. It was like sinking into a hot bath after a long day, realizing that you could finally exhale. 

Fuck. He truly was a dick.

But he was going to fix what he could. 

The message he sent to Luke ten minutes later read: “I will respect your boundaries, but since we’re sharing, I have to say I think you’re beautiful and I’d like it if you held my hand and didn’t let go.”

After hitting send, he settled in to wait, thinking it would take a while for Luke to respond, if he did at all. He didn’t have to wait long.

The first message from Luke read: “I’m so embarrassed. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like this, I swear.”

The next message read: “Wait, you think I”m beautiful??”

That surprised a laugh out of Din. 

“You’re adorable. Would you like to go out on a date?” Din wrote back. (It hadn’t been so long that he didn’t remember how to ask someone out.)

The response when it came was one word: “Yes!!”

Din smiled. He’d have to rethink his assessment of how today was going.