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Even through the filtration of his helmet, the cantina air hung thick, almost viscous. The effect was multiplied by the pressure and too-close presence of his not-so-illustrious company, who seemed to be lapping it all up like a massif.
“Maker, the things I want to do with her,” the man beside Din muttered to his partner, just within his range of hearing. He was staring at the Twi’lek dancer up on the stage, not making any effort to hide the hungry, possessive look in his eyes. He glanced over at Din and raised his glass in a toast. “You get what I’m talking about, Mando!”
Din did not, in fact, get it — and nor did he care to. The dancer was attractive, he was sure, with soft blue skin that shone under the stage lights in the backwater cantina, but he didn’t see anything other than how tired she looked as she danced. Din was grateful, in times like these, that he had built up a reputation as a silent, no-nonsense bounty hunter, someone not looking for friendships or lasting bonds. It kept people like the man at the next table from prying any further — he had just shrugged and turned back to his partner when Din had failed to respond — and from forcing Din to come up with some opinion one way or the other. He rarely thought about times like this, until they were thrown in his face as this had been. He had never felt compelled to shout comments about other beings’ bodies the way this man had been, no matter their gender or species. It just never mattered.
Din remembered having listened as his fellow teenage covert members discussed crushes, discussed relationships, and not caring to get involved. The adults in the covert had never discouraged them from exploring relationships with each other, saying it was natural and healthy for them to desire others, even when they knew that their words did not match.
Plenty of people, Din had learned through the years, pursued relationships with others even if they didn’t share words. Some scorned the idea of soulmates altogether, either tattooing over their words or refusing to acknowledge them when they heard them. Others simply said that if their soulmate was pre-ordained, that wouldn’t stop them from meeting when they were supposed to, and they would have their fun before then. Din had had plenty of propositions from others in his covert or from acquaintances like other guild members, but he never cared to take them up on the offer. It just seemed like so much work. He’d never really explained it to anyone— just said he wasn’t interested, at which point they usually shrugged and left him alone. He was pretty sure the beings who approached him when he was away from his covert assumed he had someone at home, and that those in his covert assumed he was hooking up with beings when he went out on hunts.
As with a lot of life’s more subtle or intricate workings, Din didn’t give much thought to the whole thing. As long as he could successfully support his covert and continue to hunt down his bounties with the accuracy that Karga prized, he figured he was allowed to feel (or not feel) any which way he wanted. And that was how he operated for a long while. Until, of course, he found himself staring at his own question written in spiky black Mando’a on a Jedi’s wrist.
The kiss that happens when they both realize who exactly is sitting in front of them feels natural in a way that nothing else really has before.
Din doesn’t know if it’s because Luke is his soulmate, but he feels comfortable around him in a way he never has around anyone else; just the fact that he’s fine with the little touches Luke starts bestowing on him is proof enough of that. But Din finds himself waiting, still, even after their reveal, for that last part to fall into place. He’s supposed to… feel something, isn’t he? Something specific to Luke, something in appreciation of his body. But while he absolutely sees that Luke is handsome, and he revels in his smiles and in the shine of his eyes in bright sunlight or in the lamplight in his little kitchen, there’s nothing that flares in his chest the way he had expected, no rush of want or need. Din manages to hide it for a while, as they navigate this new level of their relationship, but he can feel that frustration growing as he tries to figure out what, exactly, is wrong with him .
Luke doesn’t seem to feel the need to rush, at least; he hasn’t said anything to Din, anyway, just continues to casually touch him as they pass in the hallway, or lay his head on Din’s pauldron when they sit on the couch at the end of a long day and watch Grogu play with his (steadily growing) collection of toys. Maybe, Din thinks, smiling and wrapping his arm around Luke’s shoulders, nothing has to change.
Din has been radiating frustration and worry into the Force for weeks now.
It’s not a constant thing; there are plenty of times when the worry ebbs, and Luke can feel contentment or happiness coming from him instead. But when he least expects it, Luke will feel a wave of confusion and fretting coming from wherever Din happens to be, and it always makes him stop short. Luke’s first instinct is to confront him, to try to figure out what’s wrong so he can fix it, but he manages to rein that compulsion in. He knows Din too well at this point-- if he’s too abrupt about it, Din will clam up. The man has never been an enthusiastic talker, especially about himself. So Luke decides to wait it out, and observe.
He starts to notice a pattern fairly quickly. Din is usually pretty calm and content throughout the day, from when they’re woken by Grogu’s demands for breakfast, while they’re doing chores or repairs around the house and in the ancient temple a short walk away, and into the evening. It’s usually in the evening that his anxiety spikes, though-- and it’s usually around Luke.
Luke starts feeling his own concern curling in his gut; what if Din is second guessing their decision to start a relationship? What if he’s unhappy that Luke is his soulmate? He had seemed happy, that day when they discovered each others’ words-- he had laughed, and there had been what seemed like happy tears in his eyes, and their kiss had absolutely seemed like something Din had enjoyed. But Luke can feel the way his nerves spike when Luke leans in for a peck on the cheek, or sometimes even when he’s just doing something seemingly innocuous, like taking care of Grogu or doing the dishes. He can feel Din’s eyes on him, in these instances, and feels the worry radiating off of him in complement. The thought that Din doesn’t want him, his soulmate, who he’s finally found after so long of not knowing even what his words meant… it threatens to crack Luke’s heart in two. But he also can’t bear the thought of Din trying to force something he doesn’t feel, or trying to stick it out for Luke’s sake.
He’s going to have to talk to him.
It takes longer than Luke would like, to get the chance-- Shara and Kes come up from the valley with supplies the day after Luke decides he has to try to talk to Din, and they end up spending the night in their living room. It’s not that Luke doesn’t like them, or doesn’t want their company, but the timing could absolutely be better. Din does seem a little less on edge, though he has to keep his helmet on through the night of cards and drinks and only, Luke knows, gets his respite when he disappears behind his and Grogu’s door. The next night, Leia ends up comming Luke for a long chat-slah-rant (Han has apparently done something stupid again, though Luke doesn’t know why Leia’s surprised at this point). He doesn’t want to interrupt her, given how little time they’ve had recently to see or talk to each other, but by the time she’s talked out and he can hang up, Din and Grogu are asleep in the next room.
Finally, on the third night, they’re alone in their little house again, with just Grogu playing on the floor of the living room with his stuffed bantha and toy plane, and Luke is cuddled up under Din’s arm. He hates to break the serenity of the scene, especially since Din feels calm and content right now, without the anxiety Luke’s been worrying over, but if he doesn’t, Luke’s not sure he ever will.
“Din?”
“Hmm?”
“I was wondering if we could… talk.”
Din’s anxiety comes back in a swooping sensation Luke feels in his own stomach. His arm around Luke’s shoulders tightens momentarily, but he doesn’t move away.
“About what?” he says, and Luke can tell he’s going for nonchalant, but misses by quite a bit.
“It’s nothing, uh, bad, but I thought we should talk about us?”
“Us.”
Luke nods, and Din is still for a second, watching Grogu. Then he moves to stand up, and Luke scrambles back. Din doesn’t say anything, just crouches and scoops up Grogu, who makes a little protesting noise. He glances at Luke-- his mouth is tight, brows drawn-- and mutters, “Give me a minute to get him to sleep. I’ll be back.” Luke nods, watching him disappear around the hallway corner.
He can do nothing but sit and fiddle with his hands as he waits for Din to come back. Soon, though, he feels Grogu’s mind grow slow and floaty as he drifts to sleep, and he hears the quiet click as Din closes the door to his room. Luke rises to his feet when Din appears in the living room, and jerks his head at the door.
“Want to take a walk? I’ll keep an eye on Grogu, in case he wakes up while we’re gone.”
Din nods, following Luke out the door. Given the state of his emotions, it feels as though Luke is leading a man to the gallows.
The stars overhead are bright and beautiful in the night sky, washing everything in a soft glow and making the silver of Din’s armor shine softly. He’s left his helmet back in the house, which Luke is grateful for-- he wants to be able to make true eye contact during this conversation.
They walk for a few minutes towards the forest that rings the clearing where the house is situated, but they both turn and follow the perimeter rather than go into the trees. As they walk, Luke tries to figure out where to start; he opens his mouth, pauses, then closes it again, a few times. Finally, he pulls Din to a stop at a large boulder about halfway around the clearing from the house, and tugs him down to sit with him. “Din,” he says, softly, and feels Din flinch just slightly. His heart threatens, yet again, to crack. “You’re not happy, are you? With me.”
What he doesn’t expect is the confusion that Din radiates as he turns so that he’s fully facing Luke.
“What? Why would you think that?”
Now it’s Luke’s turn to frown. “Well… ever since we found out about our words, you’ve been frustrated and worried whenever you’re around me. I figured, you know, that this isn’t… what you want.” Din still looks confused, and Luke hurries to say, “It’s okay, you know, if it’s not, I mean, I know I’m not exactly what most people would hope for in terms of a soulmate, and—“
He’s stopped by a gloved hand, pressed over his mouth. Din’s face and Force signature are an odd mix of flabbergasted and heartbroken.
“No, Luke, no. I— I love you.” Din swallows, grinning a little when Luke makes a little muffled squawk under his hand. They hadn’t said it to each other yet. “I do. I promise. But…” he drops his hand, and Luke reaches out to catch it. “I don’t… know how to explain it.” He frowns. “It’s not something I’ve ever told anyone before.”
Luke tries what he hopes is an encouraging smile. “It’s ok, go slow. I’ll try to help.”
Din nods, clearly thinking hard. “Okay. So. I’ve never… done this before.” He gestures between them a few times. “Been in a relationship. Had sex.”
“Ever? Even within your covert?”
Din shakes his head. “Never. I never cared to. It was just… never important. But I know it is for other people, in a way I don’t think I understand.”
Luke nods, slowly, and tries to think. He’d been in a few relationships before, while with the Rebellion— mostly flings, one that lasted a few months before his partner had found his soulmate, and Luke had bowed out gracefully. But it sounds like Din is explaining more than just a lack of relationship history— his anxiety has lessened, somewhat, but it still buzzes at the edge of Luke’s mind like a sand fly.
“What do you mean by ‘important for other people’, Din?”
He shrugs, and now he seems uncomfortable, shifting a little in his seat. He squeezes Luke’s hand. “I’ve seen enough of the galaxy to know that most beings want sex. I’ve been propositioned plenty of times. But I’ve never wanted it. I’ve never been attracted to anyone like that.”
“Oh,” Luke says, wishing he could offer something more substantial.
“I always assumed that meeting my soulmate would mean that part would happen,” Din continues. “The attraction part. But it never did, not even with you, and I… I don’t want to make you stay in a relationship where I can’t reciprocate.”
Luke feels a desire to laugh bubbling up behind his sternum-- not that this conversation is particularly funny, but of course both he and Din would be worrying that they’re not good enough for the other. He lets a little of that feeling show in the soft smile he gives Din as he reaches out to take Din’s other hand, clasping them both tightly.
“Din. All I ever wanted, growing up on Tatooine and then when I was fighting with the Rebellion, was to meet my soulmate. I never even knew what my words meant. And now I finally found you, and you’re perfect. I don’t need you to be anything other than yourself. If you want, we can ease into it, try different things, and you can figure out what you like. And if you don’t? I don’t need sex to survive, Din. I just need you with me.”
Din looks just about ready to cry, so Luke leans forward and wraps him in a hug, beskar be damned. Din buries his face in Luke’s shoulder, and Luke can feel the anxiety leaching out of him as he breathes, replaced by an incredulous sort of peace.
They do, as Luke has suggested, ease into the more physical side of their relationship over time. Din discovers that once he’s let that self-recrimination ease, he can’t get enough of the way Luke casually touches him. A life spent shielding himself from any outside touch, good or bad, means that the most casual brush of Luke’s hand through his hair or along his shoulders is liable to leave Din breathless and shivering. The first night they spend together in their bed-- after Din has moved his few things into Luke’s room-- is one of the best in Din’s memory. They sleep wrapped up in each other’s arms, and neither of them suffers nightmares with the other so close.
As he gets more comfortable with casual touches, Din finds himself growing more curious about other, more intimate ones too. Luke is always patient and willing to listen to what Din needs, never pushing him, and soon Din finds that one of his most favorite things to do is to pull Luke close under the covers and kiss him senseless, reveling in wandering hands and gasps of pleasure against each others’ lips. He discovers that he loves it when Luke traces the ever-growing sweep of vines down Din’s neck with his lips, and that Luke’s smile goes soft and devoted when he does the same for him, trailing kisses up his arm. It’s never a rush, with Luke, when they explore each other, and that helps Din more than he thinks Luke knows.
He doesn’t know if it’s because he never let himself be so vulnerable with anyone else, or if it’s simply Luke who makes him feel so safe and content, but he can’t bring himself to care much either way. He loves Luke and Luke loves him, and no matter how far they decide to go, he knows Luke will be there with him. That’s all that really matters.