Dinner Service

by Background_Foxe

Summary:

A standard mission on a distant planet takes a strange turn when Din Djarin and Cobb Vanth discover that a dinner invitation contains unexpected mandatory activities

Notes:

• For nununununu.

There was a planet and on that planet were people Mando really wanted to get stuff from and that, really, was all Cobb Vanth knew about the general situation. Sure, Mando had given him all the information and had ensured that Cobb was fully enthusiastic and willing about it, and he had been. Unfortunately for both of them he had also been extremely drunk at the time, and even worse, was particularly good at hiding how drunk he was too.

So here he was on a different planet for the first time in his life trying desperately to remember all those things that Mando had told him during that night when Mando had wanted to talk friendship and business and Cobb had wanted to watch the way Mando’s hands played on the glasses and be conscious of how close Mando’s armoured thigh was to his own and sink into the glorious softness of Mando’s voice that spoke of things and missions and other such activities that weren’t quite as important as the fact that the man was back and was with him and was talking about favours and working together and ‘couldn’t trust anyone else’ and other words that made Cobb’s heart all fuzzy and happy and his mind completely miss all the detail.

But how bad could it be? It would be great.

Or at least that’s what Cobb told himself repeatedly when he’d sobered up and was faced with the ship and the journey and the backpack and the careful ‘are you sure’ that Mando asked him.

Of course he was sure. What a question.

Cobb Vanth nodded to himself firmly and then looked up at the nearest massive thing that seemed so unnatural he wasn’t sure if he was still either drunk or drugged up on something. It was, apparently, a tree, but Cobb’s viewpoint on trees and this monstrosity that shot up to the heavens were two different things.

There were lots of these trees in this area. Couldn’t see a damned thing through them, and that wasn’t just through the massive trunks but from the way the leaves and upper branches seemed to cut out a whole lot of light. Apparently it was day time. Cobb looked around the darker silent areas of the forest and wondered whether anyone had told them.

He really, really hoped nothing was trying to look back at him.

Apparently something was, and his name was Mando.

“Are you okay?” the words were soft and concerned, and Cobb offered his trademark laid back smile as he tried to ease relaxation into his body that really, really wasn’t feeling that plan.

“Me? Yeah, don’t worry about me, m’fine. Just a bit different to what I’m used to,” he glanced at another tree suspiciously before shrugging and wandering a little further on as carelessly as he could. Not too much, of course. They were supposed to be on some type of path or road or something like that, only Cobb couldn’t see anything like that around and the woods looked like they wanted to swallow them whole in a distinctly unfun way.

“Yeah. Peachy.” he murmured to himself, then gestured in what he hoped was the right direction. “You wanna lead? I’ll take your rear. I mean-,”

Holy shit, shoot him now.

“the rear, I’ll take the rear.” Smooth and please don’t have heard that. And this was the thing that really got him, it wasn’t as though he was some kid who’d never done this before. His chat up lines were generally successful and very rarely got him into a whole host of trouble unless he’d not properly identified who was related to whom, and yet here he was talking like an absolute idiot whenever Mando turned up. It was embarrassing was what it was, real embarrassing, and yet there he was happy to suffer as long as Mando was either nearby or thinking fondly of him in some way.

And that was pathetic as well. Cobb sighed internally and began to follow his clearly bemused host as Mando began to navigate his way through the trunks.

Finally they came to what was almost a clearing, or at least in the sense that the trees had decided to give them a bit of space and the sky had managed to dart down some light in what turned out to be a faintly dramatic way. Strangely that just seemed to make things worse, the brightness readjusting his vision to cope and suddenly turning the surrounding environment to gloomy into super dark.

Somewhere far away something made a low, deep howling noise that abruptly cut off. It sounded large. It sounded really large.

“Uh, not meaning to hurry you, but shouldn’t we be getting going?” he murmured at Mando’s shoulder, and was rewarded by a look.

“We’re here.”

“Oh.” Cobb looked around as nonchalantly as he could. Trees. More trees. Weird crumbly floor of a rich brown colour from where old leaves had dropped and dried and crunched underfoot. Patches of green planty things that Mando had referred to as ferns and bracken. Not a huge amount different to the landscape they’d landed the ship in, and Cobb tried to work out the best way to ask what the hell was going on without showing he had no idea about what was going on when there was a strange creaking noise and something started to lower from above.

“They live in the trees.” Mando said patiently.

“... of course they do. Where else would anyone want to live.” Cobb looked up, and then up and there was still more up to go. In contrast, his heart was pretty sure it was planning to stay right where his boots were, especially when a small rickety platform thing held together with ropes finally rested on the bottom.

“They call it the Ladder.” Mando commented. Cobb personally would have called it a deathtrap in the making, but Mando seemed perfectly comfortable getting in it and he carefully stepped on the platform dubiously. Once upon a time Cobb wouldn’t have thought anything about it, but then once upon a time he had a jet pack strapped to his back and he’d not really had to worry about the whole gravity thing.

Still, Mando was there and he’d not let them crash to the ground in a bloody pulp, not least because that was probably the worst way to finish a favour that Cobb could think of. Well, that wasn’t strictly true, his imagination was pretty damned good on that front.

“So.” Cobb said as they started the slow, faintly rocking climb upwards again. If he was going to be sick he was going to be so damned annoyed at himself. “Remind me again how we’re gonna do this.”

“Are you still happy with the deception?” Mando said softly.

And that was not the answer he’d been expecting, nor one that made him any happier. Cobb licked his drying lips and tilted his head slightly as though deceptions were all part of the parcel, which, ironically, he guessed it was.

“Just run it past me again.”

“We’re here as representatives for Boba Fett, collecting some type of friendship trading tribute on his behalf. That section is correct. However, these people have particular traditions that need to be upheld, hence the main deception. And don’t worry that we’re both men, this is perfectly normal within their society.”

“Oh. Well, yeah.” Cobb felt a little weak. “I mean, that’s essential.”

There was another small bout of silence as they slowly creaked their way up.

“You can’t remember the plan, can you.”

“Not a damned word, m’sorry darlin’.” Cobb said finally and reluctantly. “Ain’t really good for remembering stuff when I’ve been drinking.”

“Mm.” Mando sighed softly. “Well.. we need to .. ,”

He trailed off uncertainly, and it was beginning to enter Cobb’s mind that Mando might well have tackled the subject of their ‘deception’ in the middle of a bar because he needed the alcohol just as much as Cobb had.

“We need to what?”

“To participate within their diplomatic discussions then the speakers need to be .. well, bonded. The idea is that one voice has two souls for balance.” Mando was looking directly ahead as though to look around might kill him. Cobb rewound the words in his head and then decided he needed to rewind them again.

“Bonded.” he repeated.

“Bonded.” Mando confirmed.

“I mean, how bonded are we talking? Brotherly?” Cobb asked carefully as he tried to get his heart to restart. Hell, he was too old for this type of shit. His body should not be reacting just from words and implications and silent types in armour talking about bondage.

Bonds. Talking about bonds.

“Relationship.” Mando kept his voice calm. Cobb tilted his head slightly and gave up on trying to control whatever the hell his heart was doing at that point. Relationships. A big word, relationships. That was the type of word that could describe a friendly loyalty with someone down the bar or be the loud, passionate one that couldn’t be described anywhere near children.

By the ramrod straight way that Mando was holding himself, even for Mando, Cobb was guessing the second.

“Oh.”

“Is this still okay?” Mando was still deliberately not looking at him.

“Mm? Oh, yeah, sure, it’s fine. Genuinely. No problems here.” Cobb told himself to stop talking, then suddenly realised he had absolutely no idea how to react when they actually got where they were supposed to be getting to. “Uh. So, kinda like a general and close second in command?”

“If they were in a romantic relationship, exactly.”

“Oh.” And now Cobb was actually starting to worry. Romantic relationships were sweet but he’d not been in a relationship longer than a week since .. well, ever. Did he admit that most of his romantic dealings had been round the back of a dubious bar in one of the big cities, finding new people as they came on and off the space port? For the first time in his life Cobb felt grubby, and felt a small flush of anger at himself for thinking it. It was his life, it was just what he’d had to deal with. Not everyone got the romantic sweet-talk.

“You don’t look okay.”

How the hell did he know that, Mando hadn’t even looked at him. Cobb tried to relax his expression and shrugged.

“M’fine,” he lied. “Just running it through my mind. Don’t have to worry about me, Mando.”

That finally got a small movement as his new ‘bonded’ person turned to look at him briefly.

“Yeah, you weren’t listening at all in that bar, were you?” the voice, when it came, was thankfully amused. “Din. My name’s Din Djarin.”

“Oh.” Cobb said again, then cursed himself and tried to think of another noise that expanded on his current thinking. “I mean..,”

“I know what you mean,” Mando, now Din, had turned his head back again. “It’s a shock in a line of shocks. But I might have to rely on you a bit for this, and I’m sorry for putting you in an awkward position.”

Cobb would have said that Din could put him in any position he wanted but that would probably come across poorly. He was about to comment ‘oh’ for the fourth time and bit it back. Enough, already. Time for words longer than two letters.

“Rely on me for what? M’hoping you know what Fett wants because I really don’t.” Cobb said. “But you know I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Well..,” Din studied the tree in front of him for a moment, clearly trying to search for words. And that was worrying. Din was the type of person who liked a plan and was real certain about what he wanted. Trailing off just didn’t settle right, and Cobb looked at him worriedly. Din sighed softly and reluctantly.

“Well,” he said slowly. “You know what I am, what my job entails. That means I haven’t really spent much time with anyone in a .. well, ‘bonding’ type of way.”

Cobb digested that for a moment and discovered his heart sinking down to his boots again.

“So you’re not good at .. well, relationships.” Cobb said slowly, and that was going to be a problem because Cobb was pretty damned sure that he himself was damned shit at relationships and emotional support outside of his town and normal ‘don’t be an asshole’ things.

“My experience is limited for living with someone. Grogu has been the only person I’ve lived with for any length of time, and obviously that is a different situation.”

“Is it?” Cobb paused, winced, and scrambled to change that element. “I mean, yeah, it’s not romantic, but surely most of it’s pretty similar? Trust, loyalty, doing things to make ‘em smile, playing with -,” shiny balls, not a good example, abort, abort. “- uh, well, doing things with a shared interest.”

Din was silent for a moment. The platform, for its part, made a little creak and wobbled as it began to make its final approach.

“Look, Din, it’ll be fine.” Cobb could just see the surface they were approaching and lowered his voice, speeding up his words. “And, so help me Maker, I mean that, solemnly do. You do whatever you gotta, and we’ll make it work. Yeah?”

The platform grew closer, the creaks and the sounds of the ropes more pained as they continued up.

“I’m sorry for putting-,”

“And you can stop there, darlin’. Ain’t nothing to be sorry about, I’m great for getting myself out of random scrapes. We’re friends, yeah? Ain’t nothing that’s gonna be a problem. Okay?”

Silence. Getting closer. Cobb started to panic.

“Okay?!”

“Yeah, okay.” Din said softly.

“Right. It’ll be great.”

And it was certainly interesting.

*

Cobb Vanth had always prided himself on reading people back on Tatooine. He’d learned quick when he’d escaped slavery but had also managed to get himself into far too many fights - and losing far too many fights - because at that point he hadn’t worked out when to jump into battle and when to let things go. He reckoned he’d got a whole lot more diplomatic since those days, but even now he doubted he really went for it. Threats, sure. Friendly warnings. Guiding suggestions against people getting a blaster bolt to the ass, because that generally offended. When people turned up at Freetown and wanted to talk to him they normally ended up one of two ways, friend or foe, and option two tended to get dramatic real quick.

But that was Freetown. People turned up there with some type of reason, and sometimes that was reasonable - Din himself was one of those - and sometimes they were just gunning to be as much of an asshole as possible, often with some type of high credit black market item hovering in the background. Truth be told, numbers leaned higher for assholes.

Eventually he’d got better at people outside of a dusty town in the middle of nowhere, mostly due to exploits in Mos Eisley where he’d snuck to various dubious bars in equally dubious areas whenever he wanted to socialise with folk who might be romantically inclined, and that had given him a new way of seeing people. There were a lot of words that could be used to describe Mos Eisley, and many of them were grimy and harsh, but the place never failed to deliver a regularly changing audience of various faces, species, and desires. If he chose the wrong face then they were doing a whole lot more out the back than planned, probably involving blasters and almost certainly illegal in some way.

But at least the experience gave him some chance against their current hosts who were different to any folk he’d met so far. Cobb hadn’t been sure what to expect when they’d reached the top, and now he had met them he still wasn’t. The two top people seemed generally human, if someone had taken an average sized human and just stretched them a bit. Their skin was pale and almost glowing, their their eyes were a light blue-grey that shone silver whenever the light caught it, their fingers seemed to be a little too long and the shortest one Cobb had seen so far was at least six foot five.

And then, of course, was the language.

“Can you understand them?” Cobb murmured to Din as they stood and listened to what was presumably a welcome speech created from clicks, meeps and other noises.

“No,” Din murmured back, and Cobb had a brief concern they’d start agreeing to shit they really didn’t want to be doing before a girl stepped forward and began to translate in a soft, apologetic voice.

“The grand Setahdor welcomes you and hopes that you will find your stay welcoming. They have heard much of the Daimyo Boba Fett and assure him that the supply chains will continue as originally intended.”

“Which one’s the grand Setahdor?” Cobb kept his voice low, still close enough to Din that he could hear the response without causing too much hassle.

“I think they both are. It’s a partnership.”

Cobb looked back at the pair in front of them and tilted his head in acknowledgement as two sets of silver eyes surveyed him thoughtfully. Well, damn, this was not the time to start being all noticeable.

More squeaky noises and the translator lifted her head again.

“The Grand Setahdor would like to invite you to attend the Wiersalla tonight. This is a traditional dinner where unions are celebrated. In the meantime your shipment will be produced, ready for your departure tomorrow.”

“We good for a dinner?” Din murmured across.

“I rarely say no to free food, sweetheart,” Cobb replied softly, and grinned at the small huff of laughter from Din. The Mandalorian stepped forward, his head tilting in acknowledgement.

“We thank you for your hospitality and look forward to the evening,”

Quick, polite, straight forward, everything you normally wanted in diplomacy other than possibly some small round sweet things to pass around on silver plates, only something was happening in the background. Cobb watched their hosts carefully as the pair exchanged glances and even the translator looked a little worried.

“Everything okay?” he checked. The anxious expression didn’t move from the translator’s face, clearly trying to work out how to tackle the situation. Not that he knew what the situation was, of course. They’d said pretty much one sentence, all of it non-offensive, and he was good at offensive.

“You do not remove your helmet in your culture?” The words were soft, apologetic, the translator glancing nervously back at her bosses briefly before staring at Din unhappily. Oh.

“Fett sent you to a place that doesn’t like helmets? You annoy him or something?” Cobb murmured to the silent Din. “You want me to handle this?”

“No. I’m good.” Din reassured him and stepped forward, a tilt of his head in what was a standard Mando apology. “I don’t remove my helmet out of respect for my customs. I apologise for any upset this may cause.”

There was another little flurry of noises, all of them extremely non-human but most of them seemingly thoughtful rather than enraged. Or at least in Cobb’s opinion, anyway. Who knew, perhaps squeak-squeak-bleep actually threatened to do something bad to their innards.

“The grand Setahdor understands your reluctance, but wonders whether an exception might be made for the dinner. It is essential that the eyes be witnessed.” the translator looked at them apologetically.

Well, that was a very firm no, and Cobb was about to step forward and add his take to the situation when Din held out his hand to stop him. He hesitated. This was Din’s fight and Din’s traditions, but repeating that in his head really didn’t stop the burning need to get involved.

“It may be difficult..,” Din said finally, and the chattering cheeping noise of language started up again with the occasional hand wave for good measure. Cobb bit his lip and tried to remain still and ‘good’, reminding himself fiercely that his behaviour reflected on his fake bonded partner. They’d only just started, he couldn’t let him down in the first conversation.

“Well,” Din said and the reluctance was clear. “Perhaps I might be able to do something-,”

Okay, good wasn’t happening and damn the lip biting.

“Din, y’don’t need to do this,” Cobb said in a low but steady voice.

“This deal is important,” Din replied without turning his head. Cobb growled inwardly. That wasn’t a good reason at the best of times, let alone now.

“Then let Fett do it himself,” he protested softly, and was rewarded by Din turning to look at him in that steady, solid, calm way that Din did under his helmet. Crazy how that look told him nothing and everything, like Din was sneaking into his head and stealing control over his imagination.

“It’s okay, Cobb,” Din said finally once Cobb looked like he’d calmed.

And man, he didn’t agree with that one at all, it wasn’t okay, wasn’t anywhere near to being okay, but Cobb shut his mouth anyway. It was Din’s face and he had final say on any of it, and a prickling feeling shivered over Cobb’s skin at the possibility that the helmet might come off at some point, that he might see the man’s eyes, hear his voice unrestrained and watch his lips-

-well, that was embarrassingly pathetic.

Meanwhile, their hosts had relaxed, the translator stepping forward again.

“The grand Setahdor would be most grateful and humble for your sacrifice,” the translator spoke with a small bow. Cobb huffed softly.

“Well, that’s a cheerful way of putting it,” he murmured at Din’s back, but was waved down again as another series of noises sounded, accompanied by a few hand gestures that seemed to form part of the language.

“The Setahdor are delighted that you are willing to celebrate the evening with us. They would be honoured if the following traditional dress items would be worn.”

Said items were handed to Din, and a quick glance suggested they were some type of light dark grey robe with the weight of a few feathers and not much else. Still, there was plenty of material there even if it was all floaty light, and Cobb slowly but reluctantly relaxed again. It could be worse.

“Of course.” Din tilted his head in the small little way that Din did, and Cobb was getting ready to head toward whatever room they were being put in when the translator pulled another expression that set every damned lawman vibration in him going.

“Was there anything else we should know?” he asked carefully and was confused by the way their hosts looked at him curiously, as though he’d decided to go on all fours and bark like a Mastiff.

“The items will need to be worn by themselves for the evening,” the translator said finally, and Cobb moved his gaze from hosts to translator and back again. His eyes narrowed as his lawman senses were tingling again. Girl was too nervous for that type of request, and he was fairly certain they were under scrutiny a whole lot more than they had been before the topic was mentioned.

“You sayin’ nothing underneath?” he tested the waters.

A small tilt of the head, still nervous and Cobb wondered about that.

“Just the robes. No footwear or undergarments or -,” another flicker to Din’s helmet and then back again as though the look burned her eyes. “-otherwise,”

Cobb’s eyes narrowed. Fine, they had an issue with the helmet, and sure, getting dressed in robes without any other clothing might be unusual for guests, but neither of those things could be a real issue if they were the ones to approach them. Her nervousness suggested some other little detail they weren’t mentioning, and Cobb felt another blast of protectiveness flow through him.

Din might be a fake husband, but he was his fake husband, and Cobb was about to get louder when Din moved his foot back to gently but pointedly step on his foot. There was another small pause as Cobb glanced at Din and Din gave him the slightest of side eye - side helmet - before Cobb slowly, carefully, released his breath irritably. Okay, fine. Quiet. Yes sir.

Cobb chewed his lip but told himself to shut up. It was probably nothing and everything would be fine. They were representatives after all, political negotiators, and you couldn’t harm negotiators without damaging relations. There was food, they got past the hello without declaring war, even clothing was provided so he didn’t have to be vaguely embarrassed about the dusty clothes he’d rocked up in.

The fact that he edged closer to Din was completely unconnected.

Definitely.

*

He didn’t know what proper marriage to Din would be like, but the fake one felt pretty damned good and Cobb was faintly appalled to find he was enjoying himself.

Ridiculous, really. This was an activity in misdirection, an elaborate take on their existing friendship and nothing more, and yet Cobb found he liked the fact that he could call out a comment and have Din’s response rather than simply talk to himself. He might not be able to see Din’s face but he could see the relaxation in the other man’s posture and the softness in his voice and one time, so help him, Din gently rested his hand on Cobb’s shoulder gently in passing for no other reason than the fact that he could and Cobb had all but melted at the touch.

There weren’t words to describe how annoyed he was with himself. This was a task and a task alone, and yet it didn’t matter how often he told himself that. Once upon a time all he cared about was survival, and possibly a bit of revenge when he was a dark eyed, furious kid. Things had changed, people had changed, and now look at him.

“You look tense,”

The words broke through Cobb’s pity party with as much force as a Death Star. He was about to deny it before assessing his current posture and finding it wanting.

“Sorry. Just thinking.” Why he was apologising was anyone’s guess. Based on the steady look the helmet was giving him it wasn’t working either.

“You’re worried there’s a threat?”

“Worried’s a strong word, darlin’.” Cobb stretched as lazily as he could. “Just concerned we don’t know the whole thing,”

The helmet had absolutely no way to tell him how Din felt and yet Cobb was pretty damned sure it was giving him a doubtful look without moving.

“Anyway, it’s a dinner. Pretty damned harmless,” he added. Completely wrong, of course. Dinner and food and drink lulled people into a false sense of security, their weapons placed to one side and their hands busy elsewhere. Great place for an assassination attempt, but again, why bother with them? Nothing ruined supply chains more than killing the links.

Not that any of it mattered, the words were purely given as an excuse to stop Din giving him that look or, worse, work out why Cobb was tense in the first place.

“Mm.” said Din.

And he knew that noise as well, so familiar and so .. well, Din it made him distracted purely by familiarity.

“You’re getting tenser.” Din observed. “Do you want a shower?”

“No.” Cobb said automatically, and then thought about it. It was worth a hesitation. “.. are we talking water here?”

“Apparently water is not something they have restrictions on.”

“Even up a damned tree?”

“Even up a damned tree.”

He hesitated again. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d tried one of those, not a proper one, but was this the time? Showers needed nudity and focus and he was tense enough as it was, and anyway-

A hand closed over his shoulder gently and it took all his willpower not to jump.

“Go take a shower, Cobb,” Din said softly. “I’ve got your back.”

And that was damn well close to what he was planning to say to him, and Cobb opened his mouth to protest when the helmet tilted a little. The planned objection escaped as a soft sigh instead, Cobb sagging under Din’s hand. Yeah, well. Okay.

“I’ll be quick.” he promised.

“Why? Take as long as you need.” Din’s hand squeezed again, and a shot of electric ran down his spine to play with his lower parts. Cobb opened his mouth to say something, found his words missing, and simply gave a small nod instead. He’d like to think that getting into the shower area was a tactical decision but it was full on retreat and there was no hiding that.

His shoulder still tingled pleasantly from where Din had touched him but Cobb tried to ignore that. Their bond was fake and Din was just being a good friend. Easiest way to lose a friend was to make assumptions, and okay perhaps he really did need that shower.

Didn’t take long before that was fully underlined as water cascaded over him in a way that was both luxurious and guilty, caressing his body as it went in its wanton, wasteful ways of use just to keep him clean. Cobb’s head tipped back to allow the waters to run over him further, his grey hair slicked back, eyes closed, slowly easing into the warm, wet embrace.

Damn, that was good, that was real good, and Cobb hummed something in pleasure as he soaped everything that could be soaped, and then soaped it again just in case his body forgot what it should be doing. And that? That was pure bliss.

He stayed there for some time, clean, wet, warm, lost in the sensations. And when he finally emerged, he discovered there were towels waiting for him. They were fluffy.

They were gonna kill him with comfort, he could see it now, butchered by bliss.

Cobb groaned again and slowly, lazily, padded out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist.

And then of course his gaze met Din’s and suddenly bliss decided it had somewhere else to be. Oh shit. He thought he’d.. Well, to be fair, he’d just worked on automatic pilot. Checking whether someone else would be in the place just never happened.

“Sorry,” Cobb had a very strange urge to hide his nipples, and that wasn’t a sentence he said that often even in the privacy of his mind. “I was just gonna grab the new clothing.. most of my stuff is kinda dusty.”

All of his stuff was kinda dusty, but that came with the territory on Tatooine. You either got with the sand or you just went insane.

Din, meanwhile, wasn’t really paying attention. Or was he? He just couldn’t tell with the helmet on, not whenever Din went all still like that, and Cobb really, really hoped the man wasn’t upset at him for unanticipated part nudity. Was he staring at him, and if so, was that a bad stare or a thoughtful stare? For one of the first times in their time together, Cobb didn’t know.

Finally, Din seemed to respond.

“You don’t have to apologise,” he said, but Cobb really felt he did. He probably should say some words, some suitable words, words that might get them back on an even footing and set whatever the bonding relationship was going to be. It was the right thing to do.

“So, you want the shower?” Cobb said instead, and privately cursed himself for an idiotic query. Who was he kidding. There might be some soft, suitable words but he didn’t have the faintest idea where to start. Surely this whole situation was what alcohol was made for.

There was another pause where Cobb was far too aware of his own nipples before Din tilted his head.

“Thanks,” the voice was soft and easy, and Cobb hated himself even more. They’d gone through strange times but this whole situation was going to make Din think he was stranger than he already was and Cobb was embarrassed at himself for how pathetic he was reacting. Nothing had changed between them, not really. They were on a job, a mission, as much of a task as the Krayt Dragon had been for him and the people of FreeTown, and sure it was a little unorthodox but so far their hosts had been perfectly happy with their declaration of ‘bonding’ and them standing close together. Hell, they stood close together all the time on a normal day, nothing strange about that. Just what good friends did.

Good friends probably didn’t take so much notice of the way the other person stood, or the vibration of their voice, but sometimes you had to go with what you had.

With Din encased in the shower, Cobb turned to getting dressed as swiftly as possible. The clothing - which was a generous description - was just as dubious as he’d imagined. Cobb tested the light fabric between two fingers and then squinted dubiously into a mirror at his reflection. It was, essentially, a long flowing robe in a darker grey colour that would have looked mysterious and dignified if not for the fact that his feet were bare and he was all too conscious of having absolutely nothing underneath it.

Cobb growled softly and looked down at himself. No blaster, no pants, no solid protection between him and the world. This wasn’t him and for a moment he regretted leaving his little sandy hole with people he knew and customs he could understand and folks who didn’t try to dress him up like some well behaved doll for their pleasure.

“It looks good on you.” came a soft voice behind him, and it was mere good luck he didn’t jump. Cobb scoffed at the compliment and pretended he didn’t feel the flush creep to his cheeks. Please no, he was ashamed of himself and his damned crush as it was.

“Yeah, well, at least it’s-,”

Clean was the rest of the sentence but Cobb wasn’t paying attention to words anymore, not after turning round to glance in Din’s direction only to see the softest of dark eyes stare hesitantly back at him from such a short space away.

Cobb’s heart had a moment.

“At least it’s..?” Din prompted, and there was no mistaking that hint of self consciousness in his tone, a man clearly trying to pretend to himself that everything was perfectly normal without the safety of his helmet. And it was safety, Cobb could see it now. Din didn’t seem to know how to hide his expressions, and he wasn’t sure Din even realised how blatantly they were showing.

Cobb looked at the flickers of vulnerability, of nervousness and determination, and felt such a stab of protectiveness and fondness it was like someone had actively slipped a knife blade between his ribs and wiggled it around.

He realised Din was waiting for him to speak and shook himself out of it. Behave. Behave.

“..uh, clean.” he finally remembered what he was going to say. “It looks good on you, too.”

And that was an understatement. Din’s robes were a rich dark blue, the same light silken fabric that clung to his body and billowed at certain areas, and the thick belt wrapped around his waist to make a damned fine shape. His skin all but glowed in the light and against the colour, hair dark and slicked back from the shower but already showing signs of creeping back to a slightly unruly curl pattern. And his eyes, so beautiful, so gentle, concerned and sweet, and that was a thought that would never be spoken aloud under fear of death and mutilation.

Din looked down at himself doubtfully but Cobb was still looking at him, drinking it in.

“So you decided to remove the helmet, huh?” he said, unnecessarily - it was damned well in front of his nose, wasn’t many other explanations other than the helmet had randomly turned invisible - but words needed to be spoken before their minds filled in the blanks with annoyingly observant details. “Not that m’trying to question your judgement, but .. well, is it really worth it? You were full on dedicated to it last time we met,”

Din sighed. “It’s .. well, there were a few issues between the time I saw you last and now. Things have altered.”

The little guy, perhaps. Cobb hadn’t wanted to ask. Even now there was a sadness to Din, although Cobb had no idea where he was seeing it. He just .. well, was.

“Sorry. Ain’t my place to comment,”

“But you will anyway.” That had brought a smile to Din’s lips and Cobb couldn’t stop staring at his mouth as he did so. Get a grip, get a grip. He huffed a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck with a hand awkwardly.

“Yeah, well. If I ain’t an opinionated type of guy then I dunno who I am.” A lopsided grin, a small shrug. “But I mean it, sweetheart. If you don’t want to do it then I’ve got your back.”

Din simply looked at him before tilting his head.

“I know you do.” he said quietly but solemnly, and another flood of adrenaline came over him. Right at that point he’d happily kill for the man, and that .. well, probably worrying. And to think at one point Cobb thought himself strong willed.

“And speaking of that,” he said, feeling a very strong need to move away from that exact topic and keeping his voice as relaxed as it was planning to get. “How we doin’ this?”

Din frowned uncertainly. “Doing this?”

“Yeah, as in what can we do?”

He had no idea what Din’s expression was trying to do but he was fairly certain it was probably either bemused or suspicious. Okay. More words needed before he ended up making Din wish he’d asked someone else entirely for this mission.

“I mean, what are you comfortable with us doing, and what’s the cover story? How long have we met, you know, that type of thing.”

A flicker of relief but still uncertainty in Din’s soft eyes, trying to work out Cobb’s angle.

“Is that necessary?”

“If we were just picking up a package I’d say no, but this is some sort of formal dinner they want us to do, right? People like small talk, especially when there’s food and alcohol,” he was letting his tongue run with it, and currently it wasn’t doing as badly as Cobb had feared. The night was young, of course, and there were a hundred and one different ways he could mess this up.

And he really didn’t want to mess it up. Din was his friend. Couldn’t let him down.

“Okay.” Din said finally. “So we met on Tatooine. In a bar.”

Cobb winced automatically. “No. Somewhere else.”

Probably too quick there as Din studied him further, but if he was going for some type of backstory then it wasn’t going to be the rough, quick, casual thing that the bars offered them. The bar was seedy, a nod to his usual scrappy opportunistic self. This had to be better. For once, let the damned thing be better.

“Okay,” Din said, clearly having no idea what Cobb was wanting but still willing regardless of how confused he was. “Uh, how about the Dragon and ignore the original reason I was there?”

Cobb tested that in his mind and found it reasonable. Working. Respectable. Good aims.

“I reckon that’s okay. Did we stay together or did you go and then come back again?”

Din thought about it for a moment and Cobb could see his mind working on his features, little flashes here and there telegraphed clearly on a man who’d been so used to his private expressions remaining private.

“I stayed with Fett to work and had further business with you over the course of a few months. We worked together, had drinks, got closer. Now we spend time together for a period of the month and separate out for the rest to do our respective duties.” Din said. “Does that sound right?”

It sounded like he’d thought about it a whole lot more than Cobb had, and Cobb was momentarily speechless.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said weakly. “Practical.”

“Well, you have your responsibilities to the town and I need regular work that Fett can provide,” Din said reasonably. “Right?”

“Sure.” Cobb tilted his head as his mind filled with a world that was never going to happen but for a moment, just for a moment, he could pretend it could. “And you could help me with some of the drug runners that come through.”

“That happens a lot?” Din looked at him. “Do you actually need help?”

“I can handle it,” Cobb hastily added. Didn’t want him to think he couldn’t handle his own. “Just giving reasons to come back more often.”

Which, if he’d said that he could do with a hand, he could have had with Din in real life. Cobb sighed internally. Atta boy, shoot y’self in the foot.

“Oh. Right.” Din nodded thoughtfully. “And we’ve been together five years.”

And that was a whole lot longer than he’d expected.

“Why five?”

“Why not?” Din looked so strangely determined that Cobb wasn’t planning to argue. Instead he nodded as though their whole conversation made perfect sense. Just one more thing to check, and he hesitated as he attempted to find words that didn’t try to illustrate him in a poor or even non-existent light.

“And how far are we going? Touch on shoulder, kiss on cheek?” So many other options in his mind as well, but that was just asking for trouble. “If we’ve been together for five years then presumably we’ve got familiarity working on our side.”

Din looked puzzled, as though Cobb had suggested they walk through the dinner covered in custard and juggling womp rats.

“Well… couldn’t we do the same as we usually do? We’re normally pretty close.” Din said doubtfully, and Cobb could see the worry in Din’s eyes that he wasn’t doing things correctly. And this, Cobb reckoned, was probably where Din’s worry over relationships rested. The small details, the little touches, the shared knowledge that grew whenever people knew each other real well in a whole host of random situations.

There was a small burst of happiness inside him at ‘normally pretty close’ but Cobb kept that wrapped up tighter than a Jedi in a moral dilemma.

“Well, do you mind me touching your hand or shoulder? It’s just little things, small things. Ain’t gonna jump your bones at dinner, I might be an ill-mannered ruffian but even I know that part for manners.” Cobb kept his voice in his best ‘nothing to see here’ tone, trying not to sound too eager. Din looked even more bewildered.

“But you could already, couldn’t you?”

“Yeah, but..,” How to describe it wasn’t so much the touch but the manner of the touch and its implication, or the chance of getting a fist in the face. But why was he thinking so much on this? Clearly the answer was ‘yes’. He was getting himself tied up in knots for nothing, and Cobb swore at himself again for getting himself this muddled. Yeah, he was far too old for this type of stuff.

“Well, that’s all okay then,” he moved forward and carefully adjusted Din’s collar, and felt a shiver work down his spine for the closeness. Cobb offered another laid back smile and then patted him on the shoulder, mostly because he could. “So all we have to do now is wait.”

Yeah, all they had to do. He really hoped Din believed him more than he did himself. But how bad could this possibly be?

*

Dinner was being held in the hall, and the hall was big. No, that was an understatement. The hall was massive, a great cavern of a space with a few pillars dotted here and there in what felt like a feeble attempt to keep the ceiling from crashing down on them. Said ceiling was ridiculously tall, a flash of glass and engineering and ridiculous expense, and Cobb found himself staring at it for a little too long before Din gently nudged him on.

Oh, right. Socialising.

But still, for a desert boy like him, things were getting uncomfortable. He was used to thick walls and cooling shadows and economical huts. This place went in for expense and colour, whether it be the flash of paintings on the wall, the vibrant and thick rugs on the floor that seemed to swallow his toes as soon as he stepped on them, the questionable velvet lounging sofas against the walls or the elaborate robes that many of their fellow guests were wearing. Even Mos Eisley didn’t go this crazy at the best of times, and Mos Eisley was normally peak crazy.

The elaborate tendencies carried on with the food itself, equally both impressive and faintly depressing. Cobb reckoned there was food enough for four times their number and enough to keep Freetown going for at least a month, long tables holding a feast filled to the brim with various foods, fruits and cakes and something odd, and a large dead … something .. that was being cooked at the far end on a spit.

On the plus side there did appear to be alcohol and Cobb thanked whichever religious body happened to be listening for that.

All in all, he wasn’t feeling his most confident. Diplomacy was one thing, talking, getting some type of mutually agreed solution to whatever situation they found themselves in, but the more he thought about it the more Cobb realised that his experiences revolved around similar folk to himself. A chat over a drink, perhaps, or hands on blasters and a frank conversation about who was likely to be walking out of there if generous offers weren’t accepted. There were the occasional visits from people who wore smarter clothes but they tended to come to Freetown and normally were trying their best to be sweet and nice.

This? With all its manners and social standings and wealth and decorum and convention and multiple other words that just scared the hell out of him, this wasn’t a world he knew.

“All okay?” Din was by his side, and Cobb prayed his current casual ‘nothing to see here’ mask was still holding. Dammit, he’d been brought here as the ‘expert’ and wasn’t going to let him down. Perhaps he could just sit and play with his food for a bit until people got themselves a little drunker and didn’t care so much about what their neighbours did with their peas or which damned fork to use.

“Yeah, m’good.” Cobb flashed him a grin as they were shown to their seats at one end of the table and he kinda hoped Din believed him but was comforted anyway by the way that Din walked so close to him, their arms occasionally brushing together and their bodies close enough that conversations were easy.

Real close, in fact, and that was a welcome piece of distraction. They’d always walked together easily but tonight it was god near some sort of dance, following each other’s leads, anticipating direction changes, the whole works. Every so often their hands would touch and that wasn’t so much a spark as a whole damned lightning storm.

At least they weren’t sticking out like a sore thumb, not in this place. Their fellow diners were just as close, standing together, walking togther, sitting together, probably going to the toilet together, and that was excessive but right now he was more than happy with the concept of sticking to Din like glue.

Well, he was happy with the concept of sticking to Din like glue without the whole banquet thing, but now there were even more benefits.

And for a while, things seemed to go alright. Food was served in a standard fashion without complicated eating utensils and drinks poured for them by a mix of dour looking servants who drifted in and out the room brandishing even more items to eat. Their translator remained at their side, gently translating any comments thrown toward them in a low, soft voice, and Cobb found it easy to jump in to help whenever Din seemed overwhelmed by small talk.

Yeah, everything was fine, everything was dandy. Well, right up to the point where their dinner companions slowly moved their interest from the food to some small round balls of food that were being offered on silver trays, and Cobb glanced at Din in question as a plate was offered to them with a flourish.

Wasn’t necessarily the food that bothered him, nor the ridiculous expense of the plate or the song and dance of the evening. It was the way that multiple people’s eyes were suddenly turned to them thoughtfully in a way they’d not done for mere bread or whatever the soup thing was, and that was tingling his paranoia.

“What’s the food?” Din murmured to the translator, his voice low and faintly apologetic.

“D’tin’acki. It’s a delicacy.”

Their eyes met again. Delicacies normally meant something weird that no one else would eat unless a blaster was rammed in their ear and threatening to clean out their skull, and sure, sometimes they were harmless. The fact they were still the center of attention right about now made Cobb place his bets firmly on the ‘expecting something to happen’ option.

“Is there anything we need to know about it?” Cobb added, and that was answered by the way the translator hesitated. Oh, great. But still, others in the room were beginning to take theirs, often feeding it to their partner with deliberate mannerisms and pleasure, and that probably meant it wasn’t poisoned. Well, possibly.

“Is it harmful?” Din decided to breach the topic, and apparently that was an easier one to answer as the translator released her breath and offered them a happy, confident smile.

“Oh! No, no, there will be no hurt. It is good.”

Getting better but Cobb still didn’t like it.

“Please. It is a big part of the evening,” the translator continued, adding extra warmth into her voice in case it might encourage them further. Cobb met Din’s gaze again. Big part of the evening wasn’t comforting, but even their hosts were watching them now. He carefully picked one up and cautiously sniffed it before watching another couple take a few from the same plate and devour them with clear relish.

“If they wanted to poison us then they could have done it earlier,” he said.

“That’s not exactly comforting.” Din replied, before catching hold of Cobb’s arm as he moved to put the ball in his mouth. “Let me.”

“Let you what? Feed me?” Cobb wasn’t sure what was going on and his imagination was having an exciting time providing him with images. The corner of Din’s mouth rose in amusement.

“I was thinking of eating it first as a test.” he replied softly. Oh. Well, of course he was. Cobb flushed slightly at the alternative and began to hand it over, only to almost have a heart attack as Din calmly lowered his mouth to Cobb’s fingers and took it directly.

“We’re under a lot of scrutiny. If being hand fed gets us some leeway then it’s worthwhile.” he said softly after finishing his mouthful. Bit of warning might have been nice. Cobb nodded but his mind was still on the careful way that Din had taken it from his fingers, the slightest amount of tongue on Cobb’s fingertips, and now his crotch was feeling tight.

If he managed to get any type of erection in this damned robe that wouldn’t stand any chance in keeping it down he was going to scream.

“Is it good?” Cobb asked as nonchalantly as he possibly could under the circumstances, and had to remind himself to stop focusing on Din’s mouth as he licked the last few crumbs of his bottom lip with a far away thoughtful look. Cobb groaned internally. Please, shoot him now. They were friends, just friends, this was not what you did with friends.

“It’s sweet, slightly chewy … a few herbs, perhaps.” Din replied carefully, before taking a mouthful of the weakened alcohol that seemed to be served throughout dinner. “I’ve had worse.”

“Should I try one?” Cobb glanced across at the plate doubtfully.

“Wait for a bit, see if there’s any difference.” Din replied. “They might simply have a small drug kick somewhere along the lines, but then that’s no worse than the alcohol you always give me.”

“Hey, that alcohol is good. And they’re still watching us.” Cobb murmured back.

“Yeah.”

“No effects?”

“Not that I can tell. Perhaps it might not work on our species. It might not be anything at all.”

“Din, I ain’t been to many places other than mostly Tatooine shit holes, but what I have learned is that folk don’t look at you in that way for nothing.” Cobb took another mouthful of drink.

“Perhaps it’s in the water instead.”

Cobb almost spat out his mouthful before suddenly realising that Din was grinning at him.

“Love you too, darlin’.” he grumbled, but Din’s eyes were no longer on him. Cobb hesitated. In fact Din looked like he’d frozen in place, his smile faded and an incredulous look in his eyes, and Cobb immediately worried that the food effect had already hit and was causing some internal pain.

“Din?” he leaned forward, scanning the other man’s eyes and damn, it was hard to see whether his pupils were dilated given the darkness of his eyes. “You okay, darlin’?”

He resisted the urge to wave his hand in front of Din’s eyes but damnit, it was real hard not to. But he was breathing and upright and a quick cautious touch on Din’s hand showed he was the right temperature and everything else, and that had to be good, right?

“Talk to me sweetheart otherwise m’gonna start getting loud.” he warned anxiously. That, strangely, managed to snap him out of it and bewildered eyes turned to him as though he’d never met him before in his life. If this was some weird amnesia sweet then he was going to-

“Uh, Cobb?” Din’s voice was soft at the best of times, now it was softer than the average washed and blow-dried loth cat, an apologetic, sweet, worried tone to it, and Cobb wasn’t sure whether to be happy that the voice appeared and still knew his name or whether to be concerned about that worried angle.

“Yeah?”

“They’re .. um…,”

Cobb frowned at him, then turned his head to follow Din’s gaze.

Oh.

Well, yeah, they were definitely umming, and umming in plain sight without any concern about observers and Cobb suddenly felt a sickening realisation about why there were so many comfy lounging velvet sofas against the walls, or the thick, plush rugs that had seemed a little impractical with a large amount of food and drink. Quite frankly, if he’d started doing this type of umming in the Freetown bar then he’d be thrown out the door quicker than a womp rat with a jet pack and probably a kick to the bare ass as punctuation.

And that couple weren’t the only ones engaged in sexual activities either. The ones next to them had settled for long, lingering kisses at the dining table and over a still steaming bowl of whatever the purple liquid had been. A quick assessment of the room suggested that the vast majority were either naked or a few seconds away from being naked, the fancy robes and flowing gowns unfastened at the waist and simply let to float down to the floor as their owners paid attention to what lay beneath.

The servants began to clear away some of the used dishes and plates of food as the lights dimmed and some type of music began from a location Cobb hadn’t identified. Bowls of clean water were being brought forward, as well as smaller bowls of what looked like a type of salve, some varying tools and implements that really weren’t suitable for food, some silken ropes…

They sat in shared silence, taking it all in.

“Din,” Cobb said slowly after a long pause. “Are you sure this Boba Fett of yours likes you?”

Din didn’t respond and out of the corner of his eye Cobb was aware of a wide eyed look, a man who was presented with a scenario he had no idea how to cope with. Cobb really, really wanted to reassure him, but what the hell was he supposed to say or do? Escaping to their room was unsubtle at best and war-provoking at worst, but were they supposed to actually engage with this?

The question on whether he wanted to engage or not was also high on the list to answer, and he was pretty goddam sure that was not something he could tackle either.

It wasn’t long before they were one of the few couples still clothed, the remainder of the room kissing, touching, full out fucking, normally engrossed in their own partner but occasionally, Cobb noted, moving to speak to a neighbouring pair and essentially hook up in a larger, squirming pile of limbs and cushions and scented oils.

Cobb never had himself down as some type of prude, mostly because he was pretty damned sure that someone of his general sexual nature was so far from being a prude that it was in a different damned galaxy, but this was a first. Only people he knew engaged in public sex like this was generally doing it for some type of power play, the slavers, the crime lords, the ones who liked to snap their fingers and create some type of weird situation outside of usual social norms. Jabba had a tendency for drink and dance and whatever the hell a slug like him did, and Cobb was never going to be first on the invite list even if crime lords liked him.

The bodies writhed and murmured and slowly began to couple on beds or rugs or against walls lazily and easily, as though they had all the time in the world.

He wasn’t even sure he wanted to look at Din’s face right at this point. In fact, Cobb was pretty sure he didn’t. It was crazy when he had the brain cells available to think about it; ever since he’d met Din he’d wondered about what was under the helmet or the armour, what made the man tick outside of his solemn duties and his surprisingly tender mannerisms interspersed with severe violence, but right now he felt as embarrassed as a kid on his first time and that was even crazier. He was a man in his mid-fifties for fuck’s sake and it wasn’t as though he’d not had practise with sexual practices of all types, and yet here he was, averting his eyes and his body feeling really, really obvious.

Din was real quiet too. Was that good? Was that bad? Was this something that bounty hunters did on the regular since Fett didn’t seem to think it was strange? Was it a Mandalorian thing, all rules and armour and random orgies in the background? Had someone just had a whole ton of armour oil one day on Mandalore and thought ‘why not’?

His body went from obvious to both hard and aching, and there weren’t words to describe how much Cobb hated himself right at that point. Erections, despite current location, really weren’t helping. He had to control himself, had to-

Cobb almost fell off the bench as Din’s hand closed over his thigh gently, startling them both.

“Sorry,” Din was wide eyed and embarrassed.

“S’okay, honest. Ain’t a problem. Just took me by surprise, that’s all,” Cobb offered a winning smile and tried to forget the fact that he’d jumped hard enough to pull a muscle in his shoulder. Put the hand back, so help him, put it back. But no, Din’s hand remained with Din and if that didn’t cause his heart so much misery Cobb wasn’t sure what would.

“Do you have any preferences on what we should do?” Din asked instead, and Cobb wasn’t sure how to take that question. He was pretty damned sure that Din was only querying what actions they should do rather than give a strange list of sexual preferences but for a moment Cobb’s reluctantly excited mind had latched on the possibility. Thankfully Din was still looking around like a small child uncertain which direction to head into and Cobb focused on the actual question being asked.

“Uh… ,” Cobb didn’t. Ordinarily he’d have some type of plan, or at least some general options which then got whittled down to the less crazy version, but today this was so far from his usual situation that his mind had gone blank. He wasn’t sure what to make of Din’s tone of voice either, soft and patient but confused, like an animal sat in front of a data pad and trying to make sense of all the buttons. “Not really. You?”

But Din was apparently done with talking, his perplexed gaze back on one of the couples again and his hand curling in and out of a fist on his thigh. Concerned, Cobb finally found the courage to study him more. Troubled eyes like he was thinking on something over and over again, the way his jaw was tightened, his body moving ever so slightly like a type of tremble, and Cobb wondered again whether the damned food-ball thing was beginning to tease out whatever effect it was supposed to have.

“Din?” he whispered after another few moments of worry. “Din, you don’t look so good.”

And that, Cobb reckoned, probably sealed the deal on what they were supposed to be doing that night. Cobb had no personal fear of fucking in public, simply glad for the sexual opportunity half the time, but there was no damned way he was just going to hope his partner was in the mood for it and he gently but firmly took hold of Din’s hand and squeezed it hard until Din finally looked back at him in dazed question.

“Pretty sure you need to get back to the room, darlin’.” Cobb said gently but firmly. “Just need to sleep it off. C’mon.”

He stood but he was on his own. Their gazes met again, and Cobb felt a clench of anxiety in his stomach as Din looked back at him calmer than he had any right to be. Even that flash of embarrassment had settled away, a dreamy look in Din’s expression that Cobb didn’t like whatsoever.

Oh no.

“Din,” he said softly. “This ain’t right.”

“I’m actually fine.” Din squeezed Cobb’s hand a little more and smiled at him sweetly, so damned sweetly, and Cobb wanted nothing more than to pick him up and rush him into somewhere he could protect him. No, this wasn’t a place for someone like Din. This was the type of place for scruffy and vaguely deviant perverts like him, people who found ways around just so they could feel a friendly touch, and it didn’t matter if they were all in silky robes eating food that probably cost the same as his whole damned town, wasn’t right.

“Do you need assistance?” Another translator, hovering around a male couple who had prowled closer to them in interest. The shortest one was at least a head taller than Cobb was, and damn, he really, really wished he had his blaster at his hip. Felt naked without it, which was somewhat ironic.

“Apologies, but my partner ain’t feeling so well.” Cobb started, when Din stood easily and gently clasped him on the shoulder before pulling him into a hug from behind, Din’s chin on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around Cobb’s middle. Apparently this move was real good at stopping his whole brain from working, and Cobb all but froze in place as he recognised the familiar hard, hot shape of arousal pressing against the meat of his ass between two extremely inadequate sheets of fabric. And if he thought that was bad, the warm, gentle kiss on the back of his neck and the small, happy nuzzle against his shoulder threatened to ruin more than his composure.

Ah, shit.

Cobb bit his bottom lip and tried to slow his breathing down, slow his heart rate down, slow everything down, but it was so damned hard when Din was pressed up tight to him like a small child afraid of the dark, hands having escaped from their hold and was now running slowly and confidently down Cobb’s body, his thigh slotted between Cobb’s-

“Not well,” Cobb repeated fiercely and tried so damned hard to look the part. Fuck, if Din carried on then .. well, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Politely throttle him, perhaps.

Their watchers turned their attention to Din politely, and then back at Cobb in clear question.

“So we’ve gotta go.” Cobb continued desperately and grabbed hold of Din’s wrist. Or at least briefly, anyway. Moving like a greased eel, Din smoothly managed to slip out of the hold with no trouble at all - damned bounty hunters and their training! - before pressing another kiss deliberately against Cobb’s neck, and he really hated to admit this but he really reckoned that half of that kiss was deliberately trying to show off to their watchers.

Well. They were utterly fucked, weren’t they?

This conclusion was underlined as one of the watchers stepped forward toward Din, possibly looking to help him with his robe or some other touching thing that rubbed him up the wrong way but Cobb didn’t even pause as he swivelled swiftly to get between Din and the man. There was no need for a translator about the glare he shot at him, promising blood, guts and any other bodily fluid that could ooze in a really unfun way if anyone got any closer.

“Anyone touches my man and I blast their balls off so quick it’s gonna take them a minute to know they’re gone.” Cobb snarled. “Wrap that up in diplomatic phrasing and give it to them.”

Apparently the translator didn’t need to as a shadow crossed the watcher’s face irritably. Cobb huffed.

“Hey look at that, you do know basic.” he drawled, stepping a little closer and closing the gap between them even further. His voice might be promising a fight but Cobb reckoned that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. His body was all but throbbing for some action, any action. “Kinda thought you might.”

Din’s hand on his arm again but Cobb refused to drop eye contact, tense, ready, fully up for anything that anyone wanted to throw at him despite the fact that everyone apparently was a giant in this damned place.

“Cobb, it’s okay.”

“Din, sweetheart, it really, really ain’t.” Cobb continued to eyeball the man in front. “No one’s touching you unless y’want it.” he raised his voice louder, fully conscious that whatever diplomatic leeway they had was now completely shot to pieces. Nothing stopping him now. “Everyone damned well aware of that?”

Well, he’d got their attention although right at this point he couldn’t tell whether it was good or bad. He generally assumed bad, simply because it was a whole lot less risky if he got it wrong but this time it wasn’t just his ass on the line, it was Din’s, and Cobb scowled harder and prepared to hold his ground as their hosts made their approach.

Or at least that had been the plan. Din smoothly inserted himself into the conflict, stepping in front of Cobb as they drew near and Cobb growled inwardly. The fact that Din wanted to save him gave him a small internal shiver of pleasure, but goddamn, this was a piss poor time to do it.

For a moment there was silence, one that spoke louder than any scream they could have made, solid and menacing. Cobb was half glad for his own anger, one that turned the weirdness of their situation almost invisible in favour of the rage that kept him going, but the anger wouldn’t last for long and Cobb was just about ready to make another scene when the hosts finally stopped their careful and grave study of them and began to make their little clicking whistling noise talking again. Not that Cobb trusted that any more. One of the easiest ways to get people to talk was to pretend that you couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Wouldn’t be the first species to fully understand basic but not have the ability to respond in kind.

“Is there a problem?” the Translator asked.

“Damned straight there’s a problem-”

Not that he got very far with that outburst either, Din lifting his hand to quieten him and there was just something annoyingly sweet about Din that meant that Cobb couldn’t bring himself to break that request. Didn’t mean he had to like it though, and they briefly studied each other before Cobb growled again, this time deliberately loudly, before folding his arms and staring into the distance briefly. Fine. Whatever.

Didn’t mean that he didn’t step closer to Din to protect him as the man turned back to their hosts again. Didn’t know shit about these guys, anything could happen if they were insulted and Cobb was pretty damned sure he couldn’t have insulted them more if he’d literally smashed a sticky cake into their faces.

“A misunderstanding.” Din said in the voice of one used to explaining his way out of things, even if it wasn’t as smooth and level as he normally sounded in his helmet. “My cyar can get a little protective sometimes.”

Cobb assumed he was the cyar, he hoped it was something positive, and he definitely was not overly protective. Hell, he was a perfect level of protective, and fully prepared to carry that on with extreme force if necessary.

“We apologise for the disruption.” Din added. Well, Din might be. Cobb really wasn’t planning to apologise for anything but kept his mouth shut and the scowl on his face to indicate that his apology would probably contain a lot of choice and rude words in it.

The hosts turned to each other, making the soft clicking noises that Cobb was beginning to distrust. Not that the noises were the thing to worry about, of course. No, the thing that was bugging him was the expression on the translator’s face, a calm, professional demeanour slowly beginning to creep into anxiety and the occasional worried glance in their direction.

Fantastic. He wasn’t good at a whole lot of things but one thing that Cobb was pretty damned good at was working out when people meant them harm.

“How important is this whole event to them?” he said a little roughly to Din.

“Important.” murmured the translator. “If I may be so bold as to suggest you try...,”

Those words stopped dead as a harsher clicking-bark sound was aimed at the translator, who immediately stared at the floor as though it was the most essential thing on the planet. Well, it probably was, saving them from a really long, painful experience with gravity right at this moment, but that wasn’t the point.

Cobb was in two minds whether to continue to talk or not - hell, they were supposed to be Fett’s representatives, what sort of situation was this?! - but Din’s hand on his arm gently shooed him into silence. This turned out to be for the best, all words being lost from Cobb’s vocabulary as Din stepped forward a little further and then slowly, lazily, unpeeled the robe from his body and dropped it on the floor.

Everything in Cobb’s mind suddenly found a whole new level of complication to reach.

“Din, what the hell are you doing..,” he croaked finally.

In fairness, it was pretty obvious what Din was doing. Naked, harder than a Cistrant diamond and still disturbingly comfortable with everything, he turned to Cobb and kissed him gently on the cheek in what was clearly a show of relationship bliss and almost destroyed Cobb’s self control as a flood of pleasure seeped through him. A blaster might make him bleed but goddamnit, a kiss was apparently enough to destroy him.

“This is a safe area, my love,” Din said softly but loud enough for others to hear and translators to do what they did best. “Perhaps we should try some of the customs.”

That was it, Din had gone utterly crazy.

“And which customs were you planning to try?” Cobb said slowly and warily. “Darling.”

Din chuckled and looked back at their hosts for a moment. “I think we might need a moment. We’ll find you a little later, if we may.”

Another pause and then an acknowledging nod, their hosts slowly beginning to make their way back to their own little padded nook. Din watched them go with his soft, happy smile before he turned back to study Cobb, and yeah, that happy, soft smile suddenly turned into a sharper glare of disapproval.

Cobb was pushed rather than guided into a corner and thrust hard against a wall in a thankfully shadowy spot where they stayed, staring at each other. The problems of the world found a second place to slip to when the warmth of a naked Mandalorian was pressed up tight against him. The warmth of a naked Din, more the point, and concentration was never going to happen.

They stayed there for a short while longer, Din’s hand on his chest and his hips all but pinning his own, with Din’s dark, soulful eyes studying his own hard. And now incredibly Cobb was beginning to feel bad about what he’d done, despite the fact that he was still damned sure he’d do it again if there was a second chance. The silence was reproachful, and Cobb scowled like a small child caught in mischief under the look.

Not that the reproachful look was the only message he was being sent. Din was hard against him, so very hard. He could almost smell the musk of excited male, and Cobb tried to force himself to focus again.

Din was also really damned quiet, and that was worrying. Okay, enough was enough.

“What are you doing,” Cobb whispered to him as fiercely as he could. “Sure, I know they’re pissed, but-,”

“I appreciate the sentiment of what you’re trying to do but I can handle myself.” Din replied, and there was a soft layer of steel in the man’s voice that hadn’t been there before. Cobb hesitated, annoyed with himself that he had a shiver of unhappiness at the possibility that Din was upset with him. But he was doing the right damned thing. No way Din would be this keen for some type of orgy fest thing, not without some type of drug or alcohol or pill or something and yet the more he stared into Din’s eyes in front of him the more he doubted himself.

That was his Din. No question, no nothing, that was the man he knew, who he fought side by side with. His friend. And if that was Din then the words he was saying .. well, they might have some ring of Din’s actual wishes in it, but that didn’t sound right either.

“Don’t mean to make too much of a point over this, darlin’,” Cobb said finally, and a little helplessly. “But y’currently naked in a room of random folk with what feels like a really hard dick pressed against me and saying everything’s fine. That doesn’t sound fine to me.”

The irritation in Din’s face hesitated for a moment, before slowly, grudgingly, tilting his head in acknowledgement. “I guess I understand your confusion.”

Well, that was great, and yet it was said in such a way that suggested his confusion wasn’t anywhere near finished. Din still had his non-existent underpants in a twist over Cobb not letting him go play in this weird orgy thing and reality was clearly wrong. How the hell was he the bad guy in this?!

“Are you really into this type of thing?” A hand was waved toward the activity as though Din might be confused over the type of thing they were discussing.

“Ordinarily? No.” but Din’s voice really didn’t care either, his hand still on Cobb’s chest and it felt as though his fingertips were burning through the light fabric of the robe. The tickling shiver that ran down Cobb’s back was both beautiful and horrifying at the same time.

“See?” Cobb tried to grab hold of his rage and encourage it on, one of the few things that might save him. “It’s not you.”

“It is me, I just don’t feel concerned.” Din replied fiercely without hesitation. “I know I should care that people can see me, and I know that their interest and invitations aren’t something I would normally consider, but I can’t bring myself to. But you understand that, right? You’re always so good at fighting to do what you want, to be true to yourself without fear of what other people thought. I’ve always admired that.”

This was not going the way he’d thought. It was like arming for a massive attack from the front and then getting completely slaughtered from the rear. Din admired him? Surely saying things like that was just playing dirty?

“I …,” Cobb was running out of words again, knowing his eyes were wide and his expression showed his shock and hating himself for it. He wasn’t a kid, so help him, he was too old for this type of -

The kiss was a surprise, his body’s resulting ache less so. Din tasted of Jinjang berries and mystery and there was nothing that Cobb wanted more than to grab hold of him and flip their positions, pressing hard against his fake husband to deepen their kiss as his hand slid over his-

“Excuse me.”

Oh, you had to be kidding him. Their kiss broken, Cobb far too aware of the way Din’s thigh was slotted between his own as his scowl aimed itself at the owner of the polite but definitely not welcomed voice. Said owner, their original translator, was apparently as good at translating scowls as she was with words and flushed awkwardly.

“Cobb, be nice.” Din murmured.

“Hey, I’m kriffing lovely.” Cobb complained back, but they both knew the initial fierceness and the rage had died down, and Din slowly gave him a little more room. Not much, not that his body was no longer touching Cobb’s, but enough that the wall was something to lean against rather than one side of a particularly aggressive sandwich.

The translator was watching them with the anxious look of one not sure whether to speak or not.

“I’m sorry, things are a little tense.” Din said.

“I understand. I .. well, I just wanted to make sure you were satisfied,” she blinked at them, rubbing her hands awkwardly. “I hope I have not intruded.”

“Give me ten minutes,” Cobb murmured softly, but Din hushed him with another warm hand on his stomach and damn, that was doing bad things to the ache in his cock. Cobb whined desperately in the back of his throat and had to look away briefly.

“I appreciate your concern. I think we’re coming to an agreement.” Din was soft, patient, steady, all the things Cobb loved - admired - whatevered - about him. “I’m sorry again for any disruption, it was not our intent.”

Damned well had been Cobb’s intent and he’d stand by that until he died, but he simply gave a small smile and a tilt of the head and didn’t comment. His reward was Din’s hand slipping into his robe and stroking down his thigh and that was going to give him a damned heart attack as an electric sensation shot up his spine to explode into goosebumps over his skin.

Keep quiet, keep quiet, keep quiet-

“I’m glad you are happy. I’m aware that the dinner can take people by surprise.” she hesitated again. “It is the custom to demonstrate pairing.”

“It’s not subtle.” Cobb made a small nod toward the rest of the room, still impatient. “Although a head’s up would have been nice.”

“Yes.” the translator shrunk a little into herself, hands rubbing over and over again. “I’m sorry. They don’t normally like us talking in case it affects the judgement.”

Din raised an eyebrow, his hand on Cobb pausing. “Judgement?”

“Y’mean, we’re getting scored on this?” Cobb lowered his voice a little more, then laughed. Yeah, Boba Fett really had it in for them. No helmets, fake marriages, orgies and now their activities ranked by some panel. Din seemed less amused, his brow furrowing as he thought.

“What happens if they judge us poorly?” he asked slowly.

Another small look from the translator and Cobb’s grin slowly died again at that serious expression. Well, that wasn’t good, and there was him without his damned blaster, or, indeed, any clothes at all.

“It’s to see whether you’re deemed worthy to trade with. If you fail, then you are removed and a message is sent to your owners-,”

“Owners?!” Cobb felt the blood race to his face in fury but Din’s hand was on him again gently and he slowly, carefully, eased himself down from his outrage. Owners?! Fuck that.

“I’m sorry. Leaders, perhaps?” The translator looked between them anxiously, then over her shoulder at the thankfully still occupied room, and then back again. “And your leaders are expected to provide replacements.”

Din was still frowning. “And when you say remove..,” he said carefully.

“Have you heard of the Ramoylan?” her voice was apologetic.

“No, but m’gonna make a stab in the dark and say it’s probably large, furry and with massive teeth and claws?” Cobb could remember the vibrating sound of the creature from earlier, and this was a forest. Deserts had sand beasts that sucked you into teeth and darkness, water had things with tentacles, and forests seemed to have furry things with really bad attitudes. Sure enough the translator made a small little bow of her head. Great. Sometimes it would be really, really nice to be wrong.

“Well, thank you for the warning,” Din said finally. The translator smiled a much happier smile and tilted her head again, before slipping off in the small bowed head way that the translators seemed to do whenever they wanted to move discreetly away from whoever it was they were with. Cobb watched her go and then sighed softly.

“Let me guess. This another thing that Fett decided not to mention?”

“Actually, that part he did, in so far as casually mention that they dealt in .. uh, biological forms of capital punishment.” Din replied in a low voice, although said voice was still remarkably calm, the type of voice that had a weary type of resignation that suggested additional issues were a standard thing when it came to his work. Still, they’d tackled a Krayt dragon together, what was one more?

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I had hoped we weren’t planning to do anything that might spark off capital punishment,” Din replied reasonably.

“Really? With my reputation? M’honoured, sweetheart.” Cobb drawled, but flashed a small smile and glanced toward the remainder of the room again thoughtfully. They might have big things with teeth but they’d fought worse and-

Din rested his hand on Cobb’s stomach lightly but pointedly, their eyes meeting again steadily. Din raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t start an argument with them.” he warned. Cobb huffed softly.

“Any particular reason you think I might?”

“Experience.”

Another huff, this one amused. “Love you too, darling.”

Still, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Leaving should be a distinct possibility, argument or no, and Cobb was still weighing up the odds. They weren’t being watched as much as they could have, but there were definitely people on the doors and they were probably as naked as he’d ever been in a confrontational situation that hadn’t involved some type of fast romance.

It was also getting hard to ignore that the more aggressive aspects were almost certainly his fault in a roundabout way. The only good thing was that Cobb was pretty damned sure that there wasn’t an etiquette manual out there that covered orgies with death by being torn to pieces. He still wasn’t planning to feel bad about protecting Din when he’d been drugged though, even if it had turned out to be mild.

The room was surveyed again before Cobb sighed softly.

“So,” Cobb murmured. “How badly d’you think I’ve fucked this up? You sure you don’t want to fight our way out of here?”

But Din was still watching the rest of the room and their activities, a thoughtful look on his face and his hand still resting on Cobb’s body as though he couldn’t bring himself to let go. Not that Cobb wanted him to let go. There was still a flood of warmth through him from simple touch, a tingle across his skin from Din’s closeness, and Cobb doubted whether he ever wanted that to end.

If only this had happened in a nice, quiet bedroom somewhere without either the threat of drug induced moods or large monsters with big teeth wanting to tear them limb from limb. Was it too much to ask for?

“We can do this.” he said quietly.

“What?”

“We can do this,” Din turned his head back to Cobb, and there was a flash of both stubbornness and determination in his face that was both concerning and beautiful. Cobb swallowed as Din cupped his chin and scanned his eyes with the slight desperation of one who knew what he wanted but didn’t entirely know how. “They just want a display. We can give them one.”

Oh, well, if that was all..

Cobb side eyed the scene again and then back at Din doubtfully.

“That’s a whole load of assumptions y’got there, sweetheart,” he said. “I mean, we don’t know what they actually want to see-,”

“I’ve been watching for a while, seems to be similar to usual.”

“-and are you sure y’gonna be fine doing this in front of so many people? Surely it’ll be safer to just cut our losses and get out of here before they start being picky about their scoring?” Cobb wanted to ask whether Din was sure he knew how to do what he was suggesting, but that was probably unfair. Man had his private side, who knew what he got up to in the shadows and the night.

Only he kinda looked at Din and his sweetness and remembered his small uncomfortable mannerisms with domestic stuff he didn’t know and the fact he’d had to bring Cobb in for relationship help and .. yeah, this was sounding like it should be outside of Din’s comfort zone, and he just didn’t want to break that innocence.

“Can you help me?” Din asked, and Cobb almost melted from the trust in his voice. Could he help him. Wild banthas couldn’t stop him, and this was one of the weirdest jobs he’d ever had to do.

Cobb exhaled slowly and softly and looked out at the scene again, this time with a calculating eye. Two sets of standard mating over in the corner, one face to face, the other hands and knees.. Oral, although without any real display, and Cobb wondered about that. Where was the dazzle? Where was the performance? The only thing vaguely similar was a couple nearby who had a reasonable amount of attention who were feeding each other fruits and dragging things out, but even that wasn’t anywhere near some of the stuff that Cobb had seen over the course of his life.

Say what you wanted about crime lords, they generally knew how to throw a party.

“Did you have a preference?” he said softly, finally looking back at Din, and that was his Din back again, the small tilt of his head as he thought, the faintly anxious eyes as he did so, the way he held his body. Cobb sighed internally and wistfully. Gentle and tough at the same time, man was crazy if he thought he didn’t need to be protected.

“Full sex? You ever done it before with a guy?” he added more words as Din didn’t seem to be working when it came to conversations. Perhaps the food balls were running low.

“No, but it can’t be too hard, right?”

Cobb almost laughed aloud at that. Probably the worst time to test whether you liked things shoved up your ass was under pain of death.

“I swear, you must really love Fett to do this.” he commented.

“I know where these supplies fit into the future. It’s important.”

“Mm, damned well hope it is.” He really hoped there were other reasons for the attempt other than ‘its important’ but Din was stark naked in front of him and Cobb’s dick was certainly putting in its vote for the current predicament. And then there was Din himself, determined, forceful but with the small nervous vibration of one who wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing and Cobb felt his protective buzz pick up again. Didn’t have to shoot folk to protect people, but this? This was kinda outside of the Marshal handbook.

Cobb rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, and then squinted around the room. If they were gonna be judged then they needed some witnesses otherwise the whole damned thing was pointless. Well, not pointless. No touch with Din would ever be pointless. But less than efficient, at the very least.

“This way,” he shrugged his way out of his robe, tossing it to one side carelessly and gently but firmly grabbed hold of a startled Din’s wrist and tugged him purposefully toward one of the larger couches. Not that Din needed much encouragement, falling into line as soon as he’d worked out where Cobb was headed.

“Right.” Cobb said briskly with more confidence than he actually felt. Sure, he knew stuff but making said stuff pretty for some damned audience was a novelty on him. The only things boosting his confidence were Din so close to his side, the occasional hand drifting down Cobb’s bare flank as though the Mandalorian was testing he was real and sending a shiver that was almost painful through Vanth, and the knowledge that they were still ‘exotic’ as far as their hosts were concerned. They were a curiosity, and that at least would work for them.

They were a curiosity to themselves, for that matter. Cobb turned to face his partner and caught the guilty lift of Din’s gaze from where the man had clearly been looking at his ass. The corner of Cobb’s mouth twitched upward in amusement. Well, it was good to know they were on the same wavelength.

“You wanna put any restrictions on what I do?” Cobb leaned forward to murmur in Din’s ear, their bodies so close he could feel the heat radiating from him and the lightest of perfumes which had clearly resulted from the shower scrub.

“Honestly? I have no idea. Nothing springs to mind.”

Cobb chuckled and trailed his fingertips across Din’s cheek and along his jawline, enjoying the soft sensation and the way the man’s dark brown eyes widened like a kid at the touch. They had time to enjoy the gentler things, not least because Cobb was pretty damned sure things would get a lot harder and a lot faster as soon as they got going. Wasn’t as though they were used to taking their time over sex in their line of work.

“Dangerous thing to say. Y’don’t know what I get up to in private.” the cocky grin flashed again, hand now resting on Din’s chest lightly.

“I’ll take the risk.”

And honestly Cobb wasn’t sure whether that tone suggested that Din thought Cobb was ‘safe’ enough or whether he was willing to try anything out. Not that Cobb was planning to do anything too crazy, not with Din looking wary but with that excited determined expression that he’d seen on soldiers' faces right before battle. People did crazy shit when they had that expression, and that was both good and bad. Good that Din was up for it, that he’d probably try a whole lot out, and bad because that suggested Cobb was supposed to be the sensible, responsible one and that never went well.

“Guess that’s a plan.” Cobb’s hand was wandering again as it slid down Din’s chest, flicking over a darken nipple and feeding from the soft gasp before it stroked over the rise of his belly and then, carefully, rested just above the head of Din’s cock.

Their eyes met, and there was a sulky scowl in Din’s eyes that was just so damned beautiful that Cobb had a sudden and not exactly inexplicable urge to grab hold of him, shove him over the curly padded armrest of the chair and just .. well, do bad things most unbecoming to a good upstanding lawman like himself. Then again, all the best things were.

And Din was happy to add to that list. Cobb was startled as Din cleared the tiny distance between them, their mouths meeting in a quick, hungry kiss that deepened as soon as Cobb worked out what the hell was going on. Din was cupping the back of Cobb’s head gently, the other hand sliding down Cobb’s spine carefully but resolutely and landing on the rise of his ass.

And damn, that was good, that was so damned good. Cobb groaned softly, pressing back against the hand as he kissed and nipped back at Din, allowing all the misdeeds filling his mind to have their say. He wanted him so damned badly it was hard to think, and Cobb growled softly as their kiss deepened.

Din stopped, startled.

“Oh, shit, sorry. That’s a good noise, sweetheart,” Cobb reassured him, then laughed softly.

“You growl when you’re happy?”

“Y’mean you don’t?” Cobb pressed a couple of kisses to Din’s mouth and grinned again. “I make a whole range of noises when m’excitable. Growling. Whimpering. Groaning. Squeaking,” Another soft kiss. “Been known to throw in a couple of curses in there too for good measure.”

“Mmph.”

“Ain’t sure what to call that noise, but m’gonna assume it’s probably good.” Cobb allowed his hand to slip lower, two fingers running over the line of Din’s cock as he did so. The noises got better, so much better, and Din closed his eyes with a swallow as he did so.

They were almost lost in their own world and Cobb had to shake himself mentally on what should be happening. A quick but subtle glance around them suggested several people were resting nearby with their attention firmly on them, drink - or at least, the weakened stuff they claimed was drink, anyway - clasped in their hands and silver eyes shining in the limited light as they watched.

Audience engaged. If they didn’t get top marks for this then Cobb was going to send a severe note of complaint, probably punctuated with blaster shots.

He chuckled softly to himself and gently ran his thumb over the head of Din’s cock again. And Din was excited. He could feel it in the small tremble that ran through the man’s body and in the copious amounts of pre-cum that his thumb delicately smeared over the smooth surface and against the sensitive rim. Noise wise it was remarkably quiet, and Cobb wondered about that, in between the flashes of pleasure and the shudders and the little jolts that sparked down his nerves to rest, throbbing, between his legs. Did Din purposefully never make a noise? Was this some Mandalorian thing of honour and respect and control?

He wasn’t going to draw attention to it, of course. If Din was more comfortable doing everything in silence then silence it would be. Well, for Din anyway. Cobb reckoned it would take some sort of heavy duty gag to shut him up when he got going.

And speaking of getting going, they had a task to do.

His hand moved from between Din’s legs to across his belly as Cobb slowly walked around him, scattering kisses over his arm, his shoulder, the nook of his neck, a nibble at his ear that Din shivered at as Cobb possessively ran his hands over him in a deliberate sign to their growing audience. Well, a few other reasons as well, and damn, he really had to slow this whole thing down to get the right visuals. That was easier said than done, of course. Every kiss made him want to explore harder and faster, every response from Din clouded his mind even further, and Cobb growled again in Din’s ear as his painfully hard cock ground against Din’s backside with a burst of impatient pleasure.

This should not have been their first time doing all this but he’d be upset even more if they died and hadn’t done it.

The whole dying thing would have been an annoyance as well.

For now, Cobb was happy enough to trace lines over Din’s form to illustrate the beauty to their watching audience. Across his collarbone, the line of his muscles, sliding over the curves of his arm, the hair over the lower part of his belly, all so perfect. Din jerked back against him as his hand brushed over one of his erect nipples, a shocked intake of breath, and Cobb grinned against the warmth of Din’s neck. So Din was super sensitive on his nipples, and Cobb kinda reckoned the man had found out the same time Cobb had. Wouldn’t be the first who crashed into stuff they liked at weird times.

A few more touches and a gentle circle of his finger around his sensitive nipple and Din was all but vibrating against him, still super quiet. Cobb allowed himself a moment to just enjoy that, breathing in Din’s scent and feeling him press back against Cobb’s chest as Din tried to control the speed of his breathing. Gonna be a forlorn hope there, of course, and Cobb deliberately slid his hand from nipple back to Din’s hot, stiff erection with a delicate touch.

For a moment, just for a moment, he thought that Din might make a soft groan but no, he was still silent but now extremely tense against him as though Cobb was about to shoot him. He was about to ask him whether he was okay, but Cobb stopped himself. Din might be inexperienced but he’d be doing him a disservice to think he was helpless; he’d extract himself if he needed to, and Cobb slowly and cautiously began to stroke Din’s cock with long, calculated moves.

“Try not to come, okay sweetheart?” he murmured in Din’s ear as the younger man shuddered against him. “Just the start.”

“Easy for you to say,” Din’s voice was barely heard, a desperate gasp in the air. Cobb chuckled softly. His groin had a whole lot to say about taking things slow being easy, and he gently suckled on Din’s earlobe to be rewarded by another full body shudder that went through Din and then into Cobb’s belly and need. He was so responsive it was almost unbelievable, and Cobb continued to stroke, fondle and rub in confident, steady moves with the occasional tug just when Din was almost relaxing.

And Din was relaxing, he could feel it in the way that the other man pressed back against him and the way his head tipped back slightly against Cobb’s shoulder. He was pretty sure that Din’s eyes were closed too, and Cobb deliberately scanned the room and met any interested looks head on with a defiant, possessive stare that added a touch of spice.

If their score wasn’t good after this then Cobb was going to seriously sulk.

Bowing his head and pressing a kiss to Din’s neck again, Cobb took the opportunity for more words while they were both semi lucid.

“Gonna step up the pace now. Don’t fall over, okay?”

“Mgph,” Din managed, which Cobb was planning to take as a ‘yes’. Carefully detaching himself, he prowled to Din’s front - slowly of course, bit of swagger in there, roll the hips as though he was planning on getting into a shooting contest - before gently but firmly pushing him down to sit on the lounger. Pulling Din’s thighs further apart, Cobb settled down on his knees between them and felt the tremble that rippled through Din’s body as he watched him.

“Remember it’s okay to make noise if you want to, darlin’,” he said softly. Not that Din probably would, of course. Habits were habits, and if the Mandalorians had issued some type of ‘quiet sex’ thing then he’d probably have more chance in getting a bantha to wear a tutu than Din make a squeak.

Still, it was always nice to try.

The first lick was a long, lingering one from the base of Din’s cock to the very tip, and it was deliberately done in order to introduce Din to the wonders of what his tongue could do to his body whilst also being a very obvious act to anyone watching them. And they were watching him, being unsurprisingly unsubtle about it all. Not that Cobb really cared anymore; his attention was firmly on Din’s reaction, the small flickers that crossed his expression whenever Cobb’s tongue flickered over the sensitive rim, and the open mouthed but still silent gasp when Cobb decided to slide his mouth over the smooth head. He tasted salt and Din and that was probably the best damned flavour he’d tasted all day.

Next few minutes were filled with lazy exploration, hands still on Din’s thighs as Cobb licked and sucked and teased. Still no noises out of him which was just plain freaky, but he could feel each tremble and shudder through Din’s body, hear the way the man’s breathing hitched and quickened and had real problems keeping track of a regular pattern, and that Cobb felt was probably good enough.

Din’s breathing problems increased as Cobb allowed one hand to drift further between Din’s legs to squeeze his balls gently in time, resulting in Din’s hips jerking upward sharply and a shocked gasp to emerge. Okay, not as good as a moan but any port was good in a storm and Cobb grinned to himself as Din struggled to remain still.

It was fairly obvious that neither of them could last much longer like this. Din was flushed and breathless, squirming underneath Cobb’s tongue and hands, and Cobb’s ache was so damned bad that it felt like someone had kicked him squarely in the balls. And then, apparently, Din was planning to behave either. Cobb gave one final lick before pushing himself up only to find himself grabbed by a startlingly fast Din and then all but thrown backwards onto the couch with Din leaning over him like some predator over its well earned meal.

Cobb focused on the intense, desperate and clearly needy dark eyes inches away from his own and reckoned Din wanted to eat him whole. This was not necessarily a bad thing.

“Well,” he drawled with a grin once he’d recovered from his shock. “Look who’s got feisty.”

But Din wasn’t in the mood to be feisty, or even play.

“I want you to fuck me.” he said in a determined, low voice, and Cobb was reminded again how the softly spoken sweetheart he was used to was a hardened killer in his day to day life. It was glorious. It was, however, still a pretty damned poor plan that leaned toward a very bad-ouch indeed.

“Much as I’d love to, ain’t a good idea. I can ride you instead,”

Dark eyes grew darker, and how was that even possible?

“I can take it,”

“I don’t want you to take it, I want you to enjoy it!” Cobb protested and squirmed to push himself up only to find Din’s hand on his chest to pin him down once more. Their eyes met again.

“I can take it.” Din repeated softly, then hesitated. “Please.”

Aww, man, that was cheating. Cobb chewed the inside of his cheek before growl-sighing. Couldn’t say he didn’t want to, but he wasn’t that far gone not to be realistic on the whole matter.

“In this situation, m’probably gonna hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.” he pointed out.

Their eyes met again and it felt like a duel as both sides waited and watched, staring out their opponent for weaknesses. He’d have thought more about that if it wasn’t for Din’s hand moving purposefully to Cobb’s crotch and squeezing him lightly but firmly, and Cobb startled, wide eyed and briefly shocked as a stab of pure pleasure raced through him. Wasn’t so much the dirty dealings to persuade Cobb to Din’s way of thinking, couldn’t say he wouldn’t have tried it himself, but there had been so few times in Cobb’s life where he hadn’t been the instigator that a rogue hand on his intimate parts was a surprise in itself. It took him a while to get his body back under control and when he did he found Din watching him with the wary look of one who wasn’t sure whether they’d done something really good or really bad.

“Is that good?” he asked worriedly.

“My mind’s about to leak out my ears.” Cobb said truthfully. There was a pause.

“Uh, in a good way?”

“In a good way.”

Din relaxed. “Good.”

And they probably needed to ban the word good from their vocabularies but such thoughts were banished as Cobb’s cock was squeezed again, thoughts dissolving away as waves of pleasure built around him again. He wasn’t going to last, not like this, and his hand rested shakily on Din’s shoulder to still him before pushing himself up and pulling Din into another long kiss that left them both breathless.

“I still want you to fuck me,” Din murmured to him determinedly after they’d found their oxygen. Well, couldn’t say the man wasn’t persistent, and his groin throbbed in agreement, grinding against him automatically until Cobb forced himself to stop moving. Bit of restraint, so help him.

“Y’making this really hard.” he groaned back. “And don’tyou dare say that was the point.”

“Would I?” Din had a butter wouldn’t melt voice and those innocent dark eyes that were still trying to suck out his soul in a beautiful way. Cobb growled softly and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. That was easier said than done. His mind knew what he wanted, his body was trembling and hard and insistent in its agony and he barely had the strength to stop himself from rubbing against him eagerly.

Sometimes in battle the best thing to do is work out when to quit.

“ …. Fine.” Cobb growled, and Din instantly perked up. “But you tell me if it’s too much.”

“Agreed.” said Din happily.

Agreed, huh? Cobb doubted that, doubted that with a thousand passions, but at least they knew each other well enough that Cobb knew about the probable deception and Din probably knew that Cobb knew about the probable deception. That gave him a headache just to think about but ultimately Cobb would keep him safe, even if Din was prepared to get his ass into a situation that he might not be able to handle.

Again, for that matter, but who the hell was he to judge?

Grabbing hold of Din, Cobb flipped them over and pinned him down on the couch, feeling Din squirm under him with such a damned fine mix of temptation and pleading that another kiss was stolen. Still, embraces and touching were all very well but spit and goodwill wasn’t going to get them to where they wanted to be. If Din genuinely wanted to get himself fucked then Cobb was going to need some supplies to avoid them both getting frustrated.

Cobb pushed himself to his feet, raising a warning finger toward Din.

“Stay.” he said sternly, aware of Din’s eyes on him as Cobb began to prowl toward one of the supply spots they’d watched the servants fill when the night got spicy. Didn’t take long for him to identify and seize a bowl of white-ish goop that looked promising. A quick, cautious sniff later and Cobb dabbed a small amount onto one of his bare arms and waited for anything peculiar.

Peculiar failed to happen, which was actually a novelty nowadays.

“I really hope this is some type of lube rather than a salad dressing, otherwise this is going to get real complicated,” he commented as he brought it back like some animal proudly returning with a kill.

“It is.” Din replied. “I’ve seen the others using it for that.”

Cobb scooped out some of the gloop using two fingers, testing it cautiously as he crouched down between Din’s legs and lifted one leg higher for access.

“Ain’t really confident using them as any gauge for what’s a good idea,” he said as he worked. “but guess we haven’t really got much of a choice. If you want to bail, now’s the time to say.”

Not that they both didn’t know that Din leaving now was near impossible but it was always good to say, especially as Din suddenly got even quieter as the first finger slowly brushed against the crack of his ass to test the waters.

“Remember to breathe, sweetheart,” Cobb murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Din’s knee which was one of the few places available to kiss without disturbing him. The Mandalorian might be keen but his body was tense and his breathing was almost non-existent, one hand clenched in the couch as though he was about to rip chunks out. Still it was clearly nervous tension than fear, and Cobb continued to stroke the tip of his finger calmly and gently along the crack of Din’s ass in an attempt to get him used to the foreign sensation. Cobb didn’t know what Din had got up to this point in his life, but he was willing to bet that this area was usually private.

“That’s a good boy, just relax for me.” Mostly words now, soothing, trying to give Din something else to focus on, and he was aware of Din’s wider, anxious dark eyes on his and the sheer solidness of Din’s faith in what he was doing. Couldn’t screw this one up, and Cobb slowly, carefully, inserted the finger a little more in order to lightly drift across the sensitive hole directly.

Din, for his part, got even quieter and Cobb hadn’t even realised that was possible. He didn’t care about the audience any more, if Din got too worried about the whole thing then Cobb was fully prepared to dollop the lubricated goop on Din’s cock and mount him like a very oddly shaped bantha.

“You’re allowed to talk you know,” Cobb murmured, but the resulting silence wasn’t a surprise. Instead Din allowed his legs to fall open wider, a small but perfectly formed invitation that Cobb took. He was rewarded by a soft gasp as his finger circled the ring before slowly, carefully, pressing the uttermost tip of the finger into Din’s tight heat.

“Keep going,” Din finally spoke, a broken, soft and utterly determined voice, and Cobb obeyed. The groan as the finger slowly edged deeper into Din was music to his ears, and the way his muscles gripped tight made him throb even harder. The goop was doing well but Din was too tense, way too tense, and Cobb carefully spent time teasing out a path before he deemed safe enough to add another.

Needless to say, Din was not appreciative of his care.

“Please. Just-,”

“Don’t you ‘just’ me, Djarin.” Cobb replied steadily. “Ain’t gonna allow you to rip to pieces just cause y’all impatient.”

Din scowled at him and Cobb chuckled breathlessly. Yeah, he knew that look, had done it multiple times in the past himself, and he circled his finger as he eased the still shocked body in front of him into opening up for visitors. Din’s head fell back as the second finger entered, the hand clenching harder as Cobb continued to step up the assault. Wanted him. Wanted him so badly it was blurring even more but Cobb continued determinedly. Wouldn’t stop, no matter how big the temptation nor how loud Din complained.

His body ached hard and he bit his lip. Wouldn’t.

Didn’t make it any easier, the warmth in his belly and the tightness in his balls and the way the eternity of his groin ached in sympathy for Din’s view of the world, and Cobb was so very happy when the two fingers were moving smoothly, Din coping with the corkscrewing movement as he squirmed against the couch trying not to cry out. There was a small puddle of precum smeared over Din’s belly from excitement and Cobb had an urge to bend over him, to lick it up and taste his eagerness. His cock twitched hard in agreement and Cobb groaned again weakly.

Wouldn’t get distracted.

But man, wouldn’t it be good to slide his mouth over Din’s cock again-

Cobb’s fingers slowed, his eyes closing as he pressed through the ache that ran through his body and gripped his mind. Needed more, desperate for more, and they needed to do things real bad. Cobb slipped his fingers from Din’s body as he stood and hoisted Din’s hips a little higher to line him up. Not the position he’d prefer, not the location he even dreamed possible, but it would do and his eyes met Din’s steadily in silent agreement as the tip of Cobb’s cock pressed against Din’s entrance eagerly.

A flash of worry hit him - was it too soon, was he in his right mind, so many things - but Din grabbed hold of his arm and tightened his grip as their eyes met again.

“Cobb, just fuck me.” It was an order more than a request, that hint of steel in his rough, low voice again and that just throbbed deep in his core. Couldn’t deny him that, or anything for that matter, and Cobb slowly began to ease into Din’s tight body inch by agonisingly slow inch. Tight was probably inadequate a description for that matter and Cobb’s breath was ripped away as Din’s muscles slowly and reluctantly gave him access.

The soft moan-keening noise that Din made as Cobb sank deeper into his core was a cherry to the cake, Din’s head tipping back and his fingernails digging into the padding underneath them as he tried to relax himself.

“That’s it, darlin’,” Cobb murmured softly, proudly, strangely happy that there were others watching who could see his lover’s activities. “Y’doing great,”

He had no idea whether Din could even hear him anymore but he could feel the tight velvet heat grip and relax around him and hear Din’s breathing slowly and shakily begin to calm. And then, finally, just for a moment, they were completely still other than the desperation of their breathing and the tiny trembles through their bodies. Din had always been damned pretty but now he was full out glorious, all dark eyes and messed up hair and flushed face and determined but vulnerable expression and the way he’d bitten his lip to keep from making a noise and -

Cobb groan-growled and tightened his fingers on Din’s hips, slowly, carefully, beginning to move. Din groaned, the softest, tiniest noise but for him it was near shouting, and Cobb felt the unmistakable feeling of Din working with him as they moved together.

He didn’t need to wait for anything else. It was slow and cautious at first, just as it should be, but neither of them were particularly patient. Cobb didn’t know whether it was him or Din who was really pushing for the increase in speed and rhythm, but it was there and he relished every single noise and grunt and groan he earned from Din’s lips as he did so. So perfect, so very perfect, and Din had tipped his head back, eyes closed and throat exposed as Cobb built up a hungry pace between them.

So good but he wanted more, needed more, increasing speed and depth until the sound of skin on skin was clear and their bodies moved together so perfectly timed that it was though they’d been fucking for years. Cobb growled, fingertips digging into the meat of Din’s hips as he instinctively added strength and Din instinctively moved to meet him, and the next time his mind worked its way out the fog confirmed that their fucking had turned from cautious to full on brutal.

So much for gentle, but Din clearly didn’t care. He squirmed and groaned and bucked, losing himself in the pleasure and so clearly desperate for everything that Cobb could give him and more. It took all the willpower Cobb possessed to stop himself from coming immediately as Din clenched his muscles hard around him, a small harder thrust to point out to Din of its effects only to feel the man clench deliberately around him again with a soft breathless chuckle.

Really? Really?! Cobb laughed back and added extra speed, Din groaning in amused surrender as hard found a new level to reach.

Cobb had been aware of his orgasm lingering around the edges for a while, like some stray dog trying to work out the best time to jump in and grab something, but his determination had kept it at bay. Or at least, it had been. Din had started to stroke himself in time, rough, messy movements that were pushing Din closer and closer to his own climax, and Cobb fought so damned hard against the waves of pleasure that were hitting him at each tremble and each clench of internal muscles.

He’d lost control at the point that Din did, the shuddering, arched, almost shocked climax slamming through Din and clamping him down so hard on Cobb that it was a wonder his dick didn’t snap off. Cobb had no idea how loud he was when he came and didn’t reckon he was gonna care either as he wasn’t so much tipped as shoved over the edge, body shuddering into Din’s and his fingers so tight that he was probably leaving bruises.

Finally, breathless, shaking, barely able to keep upright after shooting so hard into Din’s willing and eager body, Cobb cracked open his eyes and looked down at the equally exhausted body of his lover.

“..well..,” he managed, and then had to give up such concepts as speech and communication. Din grinned at him and it was the most adorable, sleepy, wanton grin that Cobb reckoned he’d ever had without alcohol being involved, and he grinned back as he carefully eased himself out of Din’s body with a small little grunt of sensation and leaned across him to steal another kiss.

“I think I need a shower,” Din murmured.

“I think I need various body replacements.” Cobb replied cheerfully. “My muscles hate me.”

He leaned across to scatter a few more kisses down Din’s neck before Cobb slowly and gingerly moved to sit next to him on the lounger with a soft exhausted sigh. Din was slowly moving, clearly testing how his body felt with adorable innocence, showing a look of faint bewilderment as he did so.

“You okay?” Cobb checked. Had he been too rough, too fast? But no, Din seemed to be settling back down and without any particular wincing either. Apparently the salad dressing version of lube was pretty damned good, and Cobb ruffled Din’s already severely messed up hair affectionately. Din pulled a sulky expression before grinning back at him and seizing hold of his hand, presumably to stop any further attempts of hair-distressing but with the added bonus that their fingers could intertwine.

“So.” Din said finally, again in his low murmured voice that made parts of Cobb ripple. “Do we think we’ve done what we need to?”

They’d fucked and as far as Cobb was concerned that was definitely on his Need To Do list, but he assumed from the way Din was giving the local area a small side eye that he was referring to their current predicament.

“Damned well better have, we had more people watching than the average sports game,” And even if they hadn’t, Cobb was more than happy to go down fighting even if he needed to use kebab sticks and side plates to do so. “So, uh, how you feeling? Did the balls stop working?”

Din gave him a look that suggested the mental image was not the one Cobb had intended.

“The food balls. Y’know, the ones they drugged with whatever the hell it was?” he added swiftly.

“Oh. That.” Din relaxed a little more and squeezed Cobb’s hand gently between his own. The silence was comfortable, shared and probably said more than Din was planning to. Didn’t take much to make a guess on it, although said guess was essentially what he’d been suspicious of for a while.

“It wore off real soon, didn’t it.”

“Mm.” Din wasn’t looking at him, and Cobb reckoned he could see a flicker of either embarrassment or uncertainty in his eyes that made him ache in a non-erotic way. But still, there was something good in the thought that Din had been in the driving seat, even if he wasn’t sure whether he’d been following the right map.

“So most of that was you?”

“All of it was me apart from the first fifteen minutes, and even then it was still me. I told you, it just removes your sense of inhibition.” Din was still avoiding his gaze. “I .. well.. ,”

“Took a chance?” Cobb squeezed his hand again. “Y’don’t have to pull that sheepish expression, Din. I’d have done it myself in your position. Probably louder and draped over the table,”

He got a flicker of life out of that one, a small twitch of his mouth upward at the image, and Cobb was a hundred percent sure he’d do whatever Din wanted if it made him show that small, cute smile again.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Cobb drawled with a grin. “Probably with sauce smeared over me and some fruit on my nipples.”

Din huffed softly but in amusement. “I don’t believe that.”

“You’re right, the fruit would probably fall off. Probably some of that goopy stuff instead.” Cobb looked down at himself and then across at Din’s nipples and groaned inwardly. Their session had been damned good but it had barely scratched the surface of what he wanted to do to him, whether that be kissing or touching or wrapping his arm around Din’s middle as he pounded him from behind-

“D’you think we convinced them?”

“Mm?” Cobb pulled himself back into the conversation. “Convinced them about our relationship or get a high score not to be fed to some hairy beast in a forest? Cause m’fairly certain we’re doing okay. If we’d charged the amount of people watching us I could build a whole new school for Freetown. Not that this is probably the way for fundraising but y’get my point,”

Din definitely got his point, but by the small look that he received he wasn’t sure he’d got Din’s. A small rise of the eyebrow, a careful look on his features and Cobb tried to find another way to take his words.

Oh.

Oh.

Risky assumption, but still..

“Saying that,” he said as casually as he could through a drying throat and a groin that already felt a little tight. “Probably worthwhile checking. I mean, it’s better to be too good than run the risk of getting folks all upset.”

“That is true. The last thing we’d want is for them to think we were doing the bare minimum,” Din replied solemnly, and Cobb almost laughed at that given how much his thighs were currently aching. Their fingers tightened together again and Cobb rolled over to study him.

“So.” Cobb purred softly. “How should we make sure there’s no risk on this?”

And in the end, they ended up confirming their position at least four times during the dinner alone.

END