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Luke doesn't expect to fall head over heels for a dad for the first time in his career as a teacher. The thought has never crossed his mind. Sure, some of the dads had kept his gaze lingering a little longer than necessarily appropriate, but they were all incredibly married and most likely straight as a boring ruler. Today would be his first one-on-one meetings with the children registered to his class for the coming year and their parents, and he's excited. He opens all the large windows and makes sure all the toys are in their right places, books facing the right way.
When Din Djarin walks into Luke's classroom for his son's introductory meeting, Luke notices quite a few things about the man, but he's all business. He's there for the kids, and Mr. Djarin's son is for one, not one to be ignored, and for another, just entirely too adorable for anyone's good. Luke clocks the gun strapped to Din’s belt, but he has to force himself not to stare at the jean-hugged ass right below it. He’s wearing heavy travel boots, and he’s entirely, adorably, focused on his small son. Luke has to drag his eyes away from the unbuttoned V-neck of the faded polo shirt that Din is wearing, and it is a struggle, but Luke reminds himself he’s a pilot and he has better discipline than this. (He doesn’t.)
The Problem, such as it is, starts fifteen minutes later. After Grogu has had his fill exploring the different features of the room, with Din following him quietly from a respectful, protective distance.
It starts when Luke calls them both to his desk and asks them to sit down so they can talk. It starts when Din Djarin, the tall, muscled, 37-year-old father of four-year-old Grogu, sits himself down in the miniature chair obviously meant for children under six, leaving the adult chair for his tiny son. Luke has to pull on the collar of his light blue button-down, cursing his decision to button it all the way to the top today. He clears his throat and pretends to be rearranging the silly nicknacks on his desk as Din fidgets a little in the tiny chair.
It's ridiculous. He's so large and the chair is so small, but he's so gentle, so careful. When Grogu takes the regular, adult-sized chair, it seems he realizes his mistake but takes it in stride, smiling at his son. Luke feels hot under his shirt collar and subtly shifts his hair away from his suddenly sweaty forehead.
Luke gulps, takes a deep breath, and gets a whiff of what must be the delicious cologne that Din - Mr. Djarin! - is wearing. He manages to keep the smile on as his brain goes on an entire ode to large dads in tiny chairs alongside an accompanying melody of “Oh no, oh no, oh no.”
He clears his throat in a semi-successful attempt to restart his higher brain functions, as it seems most of those had been relocated to lower, dick-level brain functions, and checks Grogu's file that's on his desk. Single father , it reads. Luke blinks and retains the information for later.
He smiles again, and Din carefully smiles back, something small and unsure. Then he glances at his son, and Luke is somehow more endeared than before as if it were possible. “So, it's nice to finally meet you both!” Luke begins. “Grogu, what do you think? Do you feel like this would be a good place to hang out for the next school year?”
“I like the nature corner,” Grogu offers quietly, though Luke can tell he's more excited than he's trying to let on, perhaps coached by his father to be polite or just shyer than Luke initially assumed.
Luke brightens and grins widely, leaning forward to encourage Grogu to feel comfortable in his enthusiasm. “We do nature walks every week at the preserve outside the school! What do you like about nature, Grogu?”
“I like animals, and—” Grogu trails off and looks up at his father, perhaps for approval or assistance.
“We live on the edge of the preserve, on the other side of it. We hike every weekend,” Mr. Djarin complements Grogu's explanation.
“Wow, that's incredible! You could probably teach me a few things, right?” Luke's encouragement works, and after another short glance in Din's direction and an encouraging nod from his father, Grogu nods excitedly, grinning too.
“Daddy knows the best trails,” Grogu shares as if it's a secret. “ And he knows all the animals, and he can talk to the birds - and he knows all the animal tracks and everything !” Grogu stands up in the adult chair in his excitement. Like that, he's almost as tall as his father in the tiny child-sized chair.
“I'm a park ranger,” Din explains. “It's my job to know all these things,” he shrugs modestly. He shifts in his tiny chair, crossing his legs. He's obviously uncomfortable, and Luke is charmed , fuck his life. Din places a soft, calming hand on his son's shoulder, and Grogu sits obediently.
“That's wonderful, really,” Luke says through the noise in his head of mingled horny whining. It's been too long since Luke got laid, and this is probably the worst development for that situation it can possibly get.
Luke doesn't remember much of the rest of the conversation, but he knows it ended in high spirits (mainly Grogu's). He missed the part where Din (as he insisted Luke call him, though he refuses to call Luke anything but Mr. Skywalker) rose out of his tiny chair, to his great, great dismay, distracted with Grogu.
Din joins them at the reading nook. “Show Mr. Skywalker your favorite,” he urges, pointing at the shelf.
Grogu effortlessly plucks out The Gruffalo . “Daddy does the best growls,” he informs Luke sagely.
Din's cheeks go a little red at that, and Luke hopes to all the gods and spirits that his thoughts on this matter aren't being telegraphed on his face as clearly as he feels they are. “I hope you'll give me tips,” he winks at Grogu but glances at Din. Din's cheeks go redder at that, and Luke only hears white noise for about thirty seconds.
“Kid, I think it's time for us to go,” Din says gently, petting his son's brown curls fondly. “Say bye to Mr. Skywalker. You'll see him here again next week.”
Grogu grins up at Luke and waves, then yells bye as he runs off.
Din reaches out a hand to shake Luke's. It's big and strong, with thick fingers and short nails. Under the long sleeve of his polo, Luke can see the edges of a tattoo. Luke shakes his hand and swallows, smiling at Din. “I'll see you next week, Mr. Skywalker. I'm sure I'm leaving my son in capable hands,” Din offers with a genuine smile.
Luke’s internal monologue goes something like “Oh no, he's hot” as he takes in Din's curls, patchy but maintained beard with some flecks of gray, mustache that does things to Luke, and most importantly, the crinkles at the sides of his eyes when he smiles at Luke and that dimple .
God, Luke is in too deep. “I'm sure Grogu would keep me on my toes if I dare to be anything less,” he offers back, reluctant to let go of Din's warm hand.
“Oh, he absolutely will,” Din nods, and he laughs and Luke is a goner.
He's so happy this is the last meeting of the day because he needs to go home and wash off any impure thoughts about his student's father as soon and as thoroughly as possible.
The shower when he gets home has the opposite effect as Luke finds himself with a desperate hand around his dick, thinking about brown, crinkled eyes and wide shoulders, but at least he has it out of his system.
For now.
He hopes.
(He’s wrong.)
Luke manages to get his impossibly huge crush under control by the time the school year starts, and he has to interact with Din twice a day as he drops and picks up his son. He has other things to focus on, mainly the twenty children aged four under his care and how to keep them occupied while also educating them.
The evenings are a different story, but Luke has that under control, no matter what Leia says about him taking the one-night stands a little too far.
It fluctuates as time goes by. When Luke only has to see Din in the morning and in the afternoon when he brings and takes Grogu, it's manageable.
Luke pretty much has it under control until the day Din shows up with more than half of Luke's list in carefully packaged bags, double the amounts Luke had listed (“Just in case, you know. If they run out,” he explains as he hands Luke the most expensive brand of crayon Luke had dared put on the list).
He then works hard to tamp it down again when Din is the only parent to volunteer for any initiative that Luke posts regularly—chaperoning trips, career day. He even offers to meet them up in the preserve and talk about poisonous plants versus edible ones of his own accord. Luke takes him up on the offer immediately, and he hopes his excitement isn’t too palpable in his response. (He has Leia read through it twice, just in case).
When Din meets them, he's dressed in what is obviously his work attire: he's wearing an aged, very faded but previously deep forest green polo with the park logo on his chest, dark jeans, and comfortable boots. He has his gun strapped to the back of his belt like always, and he's wearing a gray wide-brimmed hat paired with his mirrored pair of aviator shades. Luke's eyes trace him, taking in every detail. The black lines of the tattoos on Din's arms seem to be burned into Luke's retinas for the rest of the week.
Grogu runs to him, and Din takes the sunglasses off and hangs them on the unbuttoned V-neck of his polo, before bending down, grinning, to catch his son in his arms, standing with Grogu propped on his hip.
Din compliments the kids’ hats, deftly identifying the different cartoon characters that adorn their clothes, and reminds them of outdoor safety measures. His voice is pleasant to listen to, and Luke daydreams a little. (He daydreams a lot).
The day is hot and humid, so they're all sweating. Din reminds the kids to drink a lot of water and, at some point, uses the edge of his faded green polo to wipe the sweat from his face. This affords Luke a short yet unforgettable view of Din's stomach and chest. They're not flat or too defined, but he's obviously well built and strong and not very hairy, and Luke hopes he only whined inside his head.
Din isn't even aware he causes an absolute crisis, busy patiently answering the kids’ questions.
Luke’s teaching assistant, Rey, has to elbow him when Din asks him a question, and Luke is too busy staring at his arms to realize.
In fact, Rey has to elbow him so often that he's sure there's a bruise on his arm where her surprisingly pointy elbow hits him with scarily precise aim.
Luke watches attentively as he helps the kids pick berries, making sure they each find a few on their own. He offers a handful to Luke, his fingers stained red with the juice of them. Luke wants to lick it off them, taste the berries from Din's full lips. He doesn't.
That evening, he's having dinner with Han and Leia. While Leia listens attentively as he waxes poetic about the hot dad, Han stops him with a sharp, “Kid, I love you, but you gotta keep that stuff to yourself,” when Luke explains he felt an actual physical reaction when Din exposed his stomach like it was nothing.
“Not that kind of reaction, Jesus, Han,” he huffs. “The kids were there,” he adds.
He's lying.
The Problem becomes a Major Issue after Luke posts a list of new books on his public Amazon Wish List, and Din shows up with an Amazon Prime package two days later that has all of them . Luke has been having a miserable day as the cherry on top of an awful week. One of the kids accidentally kicked sand into his eyes earlier that day, so he's been teary, his eyes red and gritty all day. His car broke down a few days ago, so he'd been relying on rides from Han. He doesn't know how he's going to pay for the parts that he needs to fix it, and he gets a booty call from Biggs Darklighter to add insult to injury, but then Din shows up with that box when he comes to take Grogu home for the day, and Luke just breaks down. He cries for real.
“Mr. Skywalker, is everything OK?” he asks quietly, placing a warm, large hand on Luke's shoulder. He turns Luke gently away from the few kids still in the class, shielding Luke from view.
“Ye—yeah, yep, just—Poe kicked some sand in my eyes earlier, and it's been itchin’ all day,” Luke hiccups, rubbing his eyes with the base of his palms. It's not a lie. It's a partial truth.
“Hey—no, that's bad. You could scratch your cornea,” Din says and gently takes Luke's hands in his. “You should go to the ER,” he says decisively.
“No, that's not necessary,” Luke tries, but beyond blurry tears, he sees Din shake his head, and he feels the grip get slightly tighter. “I really just need to go home and rest,” he says, which, again, isn't a lie. “And I can't drive there - my car is out -”
“I'll take you. There are only five kids left anyway. Rey will be fine with them,” Din reasons, and he lets go of Luke's hands, which Luke is both sad and relieved about. He can think again, but all he can think about is how his hands are tingling with the leftover warmth of Din's large hands.
“You really don't have to do that,” Luke tries to insist again. He does not want to think about what happens when Han finds out about this.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Din asks suddenly, anxious, holding up what looks to Luke like two hands with two fingers up.
“Four,” Luke answers, but he doesn't sound confident.
“Right. I'm taking you to the ER, Mr. Skywalker.” Din informs him and takes Luke's hand in one hand and Grogu's in the other. “Rey, can you please give me Mr. Skywalker’s bag?”
Luke can blearily see her hand it over, and Din hitches it over his shoulder. Something in Luke breaks, making him tear up again, but for a different reason. The tears leave Luke sniffling, and Din reaches into a pocket in Grogu's bag and hands him a tissue because he's that dad, and Luke… is lost. He says goodbye to his sanity in the parking lot as they walk up to Din's beat-up silver pick-up truck with the horrendous orange stripe on the side. Din ensures Grogu is secured in his seat before opening the passenger-side door for Luke and making sure his seat belt is also secured.
“Mr. Skywalker, are you alright?” Grogu chirps from the back as they wait for Din to circle the car.
“Yes, Grogu. Your dad is just taking me so the doctor can make sure everything is okay.” Luke's mind immediately clears at the timid tone of the usually happy Grogu.
Din glances at Grogu in the back and then at Luke. “Don't worry, Grogu, Mr. Skywalker is perfectly fine,” he says, despite not hearing the discussion. “If you want to grab a snack, kid, you know where they are,” he says encouragingly.
Luke glances around him. Though his sight is still somewhat blurry, he finds a neat, clean interior with orderly places for different things. There's a wet wipe holder with a fresh packet, and on the back of Luke's seat, there's an organizer with snacks, small simple games, and even two books. There are also two water bottles and other safety tools. Luke sighs. Even this was perfect.
“Don't rub your eyes,” Din reminds him quietly as he turns the key in the ignition, and immediately, Luke's own voice blares over the speakers.
He recognizes it - it's the CD he made for the parents with the songs he teaches in class so they can continue to work on them at home. Luke swallows, and even through his blurred sight, when he looks at Din, he's blushing profusely under the sunglasses. “I'm sorry,” he mumbles quickly, reaching for the sound system. “It's Grogu's favorite,” he explains.
“No - no, that's great! I'm glad, leave it. Grogu, do you want to sing with me?” Luke turns in his seat to smile at Grogu, and Grogu nods enthusiastically and starts to sing along.
Luke sees Din tap his fingers on the wheel and mouth along with them as he drives. Luke is certain he melts when Din starts to whistle along as if he's not aware he's doing it.
When they arrive at the hospital, Luke remembers he should probably text Han to let him know he's not at the school anymore. Din stops the car at the entrance to the ER and it seems like he's looking for a place to park.
“Oh, you don't have to stay with me, Mr. Djarin. It's fine! My brother-in-law is on his way; I just texted him,” Luke tries to insist, but Din looks hesitant. Luke fully intends to wait for Han to arrive and then get out of there.
“Din,” he reminds Luke, shaking his head. “We'll wait for him with you,” he settles. “I'm not leaving you alone at the ER,” he insists, obviously not expecting Luke to argue.
“I'm an adult,” Luke reminds him in turn, his hand on the door handle. He is ready to escape the suffocating space of the truck's cabin and breathe fresh air without subtle whiffs of Din's cologne.
“You're an adult seeing double,” Din argues dryly, crossing his arms on his chest, unimpressed.
Luke blinks and physically feels a grain leave his eye. He tears up, finally not because he's emotionally overwhelmed (well, mostly not for that reason), and then, suddenly, he can see clearly. “Not anymore,” he says, argumentative but playful. He picks at the corner of his eye, finding the sand grains and flicking them away. “It's gone,” he promises.
“I'll wait until your brother-in-law shows up,” Din asserts, refusing to budge on the matter. Instead, he puts the truck back into drive to move them into a less disruptive spot to idle. “If you're hungry, there are snacks over there,” he offers.
Luke shakes his head no. The CD's playlist is done, so it’s quiet in the car. “It's really fine, Mr. - I mean, Din, I'm sure you'd like to go home and finish your day-”
Din doesn't let him finish. “We can wait,” he cuts him off, and Luke doesn't argue again.
“All the parents have been very impressed with your preserve tour. The kids haven't stopped talking about it,” Luke says after a short silence. He fiddles with his fingers and the edge of his button-up, betraying his nerve despite his conversational tone.
“I have three moms asking me out on dates on rotation,” Din says quietly, pinching his nose. “Not all of them are single,” he adds, voice even lower. Now that the adults seem calm, Grogu is busy with his snack and a game he had picked up for himself. “They will not take no for an answer,” he sighs.
Luke perks up to full attention. “Why don't you say yes?” He tries not to sound too eager, too smug, too anything. He's not sure it works, but he finds he's holding his breath anyway.
Din's cheeks go slightly pink, and he lifts his aviators to rest on the top of his head, pushing the curls back. He looks at Luke for a moment that's almost too long. “They're not really my type,” he says eventually. His eyes stare directly into Luke's for a few seconds, and then he lifts his gaze. He seems nervous about it, and Luke follows it automatically. There's a pin badge pinned to the mirror. It's the Pride flag.
Luke's eyebrows raise, and he inhales sharply, nodding. “I see. They're not my type either,” he offers. “The, uh, moms, I mean,” he adds, just to be sure the message landed.
“And the dads?”
Luke's breath stops as he locks eyes with Din, flicks his gaze to his lips, and back up. “More my speed.”
Din nods but doesn't get to say anything else before a beat-up, ancient, gray semi-trailer truck stops next to them, towering over Din's pick-up. It honks loudly and rudely. Trust Han to fit a semi-trailer truck into a hospital parking lot and not care about the consequences.
“HEY LUKE! SAND'S OUTTA YOUR EYES YET?” Han yells from the window, banging to get their attention.
Din looks up at him, seemingly disapproving. “Your brother-in-law is a truck driver with priors ?” Han's reputation seems to have preceded him yet again. He waves at Din like that’s normal, and they go way back. Din frowns, nonplussed at being associated with.
“Yep, and my best friend,” Luke says, shrugging. He's proud of that and dares Din to voice any opinion to the contrary.
“Isn't your sister the mayor ?” Din continues to stare between them.
“She is! She's doing career day in class next week,” Luke confirms, opening the door on his side. Han's disenchanting presence has broken the fog of a few minutes ago, and Luke is, for once, thankful for it.
“I—I know. I read your newsletter,” Din says, scratching the back of his head. He looks awkward now.
The fog immediately returns when Din says that, looking bashfully up at him. “You do?” Luke asks with his hand still on the door handle, angled to get out of the car.
Din shrugs, gesturing at Grogu, who’s grinning in the back. “I like the pictures you add,” he offers as the only explanation. Han honks again, and Din scowls.
That offers Luke the out he needs before Din says anything else that's too charming for him to handle. “Thank you, Din. I really appreciate this. And everything else! The books - I didn't even get to thank you for the books,” he sighs, flustered.
“No worries, Mr. Skywalker. I'm happy to help give Grogu anything he needs in every way I can,” Din smiles. His smile is so soft, and his lips are so—another HONK comes from Han with some added yelling, and Luke finally opens the door and jumps out, grabbing his bag with him.
“Thanks again, Din. Grogu, I'll see you tomorrow in class, kiddo!” Luke shuts the door and pokes his head in to wave goodbye to the small child in the back, who waves happily back at him.
Luke feels Din's eyes following him up to Han's truck, and he tries not to stare back lest he trip and fall and actually need to get himself into the ER.
Din drives off the moment the door is shut behind Luke, and Luke takes a deep breath, feeling like he'd been underwater for the past hour.
“See, now I get it,” Han says conversationally. He waits a moment for Din's pick-up to disappear and then drives.
Luke grumbles quietly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“He is hot. He arrested me once when he was a deputy,” Han drops the bomb like it's nothing other than the fact that it crushes Luke entirely.
“He was a deputy ?” he asks desperately. Luke's brain runs image after image of Din in a deputy uniform. It's awful and amazing at the same time.
“Sure was. It also ticks a-l-l of your particular daddy issue boxes, so I get it.” Han nods like he's imparting sage truths, and Luke smacks his arm. Han doesn't even flinch, which annoys Luke further. “Are you thinking about him in the uniform?” Han smirks at him as he drives them towards Luke’s apartment building.
“ No ,” Luke lies terribly.
“Your uniform thing is hilarious , kid. You were a uniform!” Han wheezes a laugh next to him.
“You’re a terrible friend, Han,” Luke grumbles, sinking into the soft seat of the Falcon, sulking.
Luke tries to get rid of the imagined visions of Din in a deputy uniform, but that goes so terribly that he ends up googling him instead. He finds one photographic evidence of Din in a 10-year-old news article from their town’s local Gazette , and he looks a little ganglier than he does now but still entirely adorable and handsome, with longer dark curls, the same aviators on the top of his head, and a small, shy smile under the same mustache. He doesn’t fill out the uniform as well as he does his park ranger outfit. Despite that, Luke knows he would have climbed him like a tree if given the chance.
Luke works hard to keep it in his pants because he likes his job and he loves the kids, and he doesn’t need the ethics committee on his ass. But Din sure doesn’t make The Major Issue any easier to handle.
Luke gets a couple of months of reprieve after the ER incident—he only sees Din in the morning and the afternoons, like before. There are no occasions to commemorate or events to volunteer for until Luke’s planned event for Pride Month. As the only (out, anyway) LGBTQ member of the faculty, Luke has taken it upon himself to hold a small Pride event at the school.
Din, as he always does, volunteers. Luke organizes a drag queen Story Time at their school library, with parents invited. He also runs a bake sale to raise funds for their town’s LGBTQ youth center, where he regularly volunteers.
Din sits in the crowd of the Story Time show with Grogu in his lap, wearing the truly awful bucket hat that Grogu had made in class for Father’s Day earlier that week (it’s puke-green colored and tie-dye, with felt frogs pasted all over it), laughing along with the story. Luke has to excuse himself no less than three times so he doesn’t whine out loud as he stares longingly at Din sitting cross-legged on the floor, the only dad to do so, hugging his son close.
When Din shows up with two dozen frosted cupcakes to the bake sale, Luke groans and buries his face in Leia’s shoulder. She always shows up to his Pride events, showing that Town Hall supports this cause.
“He bakes ,” Luke whines into Leia’s shirt.
“Oh shit, that’s Hot Dad?” Leia says, way too loudly for Luke’s comfort, smacking his side. Din was there to chaperone their class trip to the town hall, but Luke didn't have time to point him out then.
“Leia! Jesus Christ, maybe you want to announce it over the speaker system?” Luke hisses, elbowing her. He straightens up and flicks invisible lint off his black, rainbow-flag-printed “Proud Teacher!” shirt and fidgets as Din walks closer. He sticks his hands in the back pockets of his black jeans so he's not tempted to reach out and touch Din inappropriately. He is dressed in much the same way he always is but looking just as delectable as always.
“Hi, Mr. Skywalker, Madam Mayor,” Din says respectfully. He nudges Grogu gently, who echoes him cheerfully. “Where do these go?” he asks, pointing at the trays of cupcakes.
Leia smiles charmingly and takes them from him. “Oh, let me take those off your hands, Mr…?” she waits, looking innocently between Luke and Din. Her long braid swishes behind her as she looks from Luke to Din.
“Djarin, Din Djarin,” he provides dutifully. “And this is Grogu,” he gestures at the little four-year-old, dressed in green overalls with a white shirt underneath and Velcro sneakers. “Grogu, you remember the Mayor, don't you? Say hello,” he touches Grogu's shoulder very gently and encourages him forward.
“Hi, Miss Mr. Skywalker’s sister!” Grogu says happily. Din cringes behind him. “I wanted to ask you when you came to class, but Daddy said that's something you ask someone close to you, and now you're close! Why are you not called Miss Skywalker if you're Mr. Skywalker’s sister?”
Din visibly pales and kneels, grabbing Grogu's shoulders with both hands and turning him so they're facing each other. “Grogu, that's not a question we ask people,” he says urgently. “I'm sorry, madam mayor. You don't have to answer that,” he looks up at the siblings again, embarrassed.
“Oh, don't worry, we asked the same thing,” Leia says easily, laughing. “But I'm sure Luke here would love to tell you the whole sordid story over dinner sometime,” she adds leisurely. Luke wants the ground to swallow him. Din's pale face suddenly goes red. He studiously does not look at Luke but chuckles uncomfortably.
“I'd love to hear it,” Din says, somewhat strangled, but it sounds sincere. “Tadpole, I think we should let Mr. Skywalker and the mayor get back to greeting other people, right? Say bye now,” he says, still uncomfortable.
Luke and Leia offer warm goodbyes to Grogu's cheerful “Bye!” as he runs over to his friends, with Din shuffling awkwardly after him.
“Great, thanks a lot , Leia,” Luke huffs under his breath, nervously passing his fingers through his hair as he follows Din through the schoolyard.
“What? I didn't do anything!” Leia raises her arms as if she's innocent.
“No, you only basically propositioned one of my student’s parents on my behalf,” he whisper-shouts, slightly hysterical.
“Didn't seem like he was opposed, I have to say,” Leia shrugs.
“I can't do anything until Grogu is no longer my student,” Luke retorts, but he doesn't refute Leia’s claim. Din was looking at him like he liked the idea of having Luke over for dinner.
“Well, then, only a week to go!” Leia cheerfully says, leaving Luke with that thought so she can greet a member of the town council.
Luke thinks about that for the rest of the evening. He has no recollection of what else happened beyond that point.
The last day of the school year is always an emotional day for Luke. Saying goodbye to his kids never gets easier, even ten years in. This year, there’s the additional Major Issue in the shape of a specific dad who wears sun-faded polos and mirrored sunglasses, has a gun strapped to his belt, adorable dimples, and the cutest relationship with his son. Luke doesn’t know what to do about it. That’s to say, he knows what he wants to do, but he doesn’t know if he’ll have the guts to do it.
For the first time ever, Din is the last parent to arrive. He sent Luke a very curt email letting him know that he’ll be in later than usual and asking him to please let Grogu know so he won’t get scared.
Luke shouldn’t have favorites, but he does. He doesn’t treat them any differently, but they take up a different space in his heart. Grogu is one of them. There’s just something about him that Luke connects with on a level he doesn’t connect with the other kids. An inner peace despite everything he’d been through as a tiny baby - Luke had discussed his past with the school’s counselor and psychologist to ensure he didn’t misstep and cause harm. Still, Din had evidently done such a good job with this child he found three years ago during a drug bust when he was still a Deputy in the County Sheriff’s office. Luke is playing Snakes and Ladders with Grogu, and it takes a few minutes before Luke notices another person joined them. Luke only clocks him when he notices subtle movement out of the corner of his eye and realizes Din is taking pictures of Luke and Grogu playing together on his Android phone. Luke doesn’t understand that particular quirk - but he finds he likes it and that, somehow, it suits Din to be a Pixel phone guy.
“I hope it’s alright—” Din says quickly when he realizes he’s been caught. He blushes, and Luke smiles at the sight.
“Of course, I’d love it if you could send me those,” Luke says, combing gentle fingers through Grogu’s curls. Grogu leans into the touch, smiling.
“Of course,” Din parrots dumbly, staring at Luke’s hand. He seems to shake himself as his gaze focuses on Grogu visibly. “Tadpole, you ready to say goodbye to Mr. Skywalker?”
Grogu’s smile crumbles, and he tears up so quickly that neither adult realizes before the sniffles join. “Do I gotta?” he whines pitifully. “I like Mr. Skywalker,” he tells his father emphatically. “Mr. Skywalker, do I gotta go?”
Luke smiles at Grogu sadly. “I like you too, Grogu,” he starts honestly. “But yes, sometimes we have to do things even if we don’t want to,” he finishes. He pets Grogu’s hair again and runs his thumb over Grogu’s soft cheek, wiping tears away.
Din has stepped closer to them but doesn’t touch Grogu, allowing them this moment. When Grogu looks entreatingly at him again, Din sinks into a child-sized chair, careful but experienced at this point, unaware he’s awakening an existential crisis Luke had thought he’d put behind himself. “Tadpole, I know you’re sad. But you’ll still see Mr. Skywalker at school. And you also like Miss Tano, don’t you?” he reasons gently. He places a soft hand on Grogu’s little shoulder, and Grogu jumps away from Luke and into his father’s arms as if magnetized to him. Din smiles apologetically at Luke over Grogu’s head.
Luke shakes his head, smiling back as if to say, “Understandable.”
Din pulls Grogu close and kisses the top of his head. Luke hears him whisper, “Tadpole, do you know who’s waiting for you right outside the door?”
Grogu sniffles loudly, but his eyes go wide in anticipation as he looks up into Din’s eyes. “Is it Uncle Boba?” he asks reverently.
“It is indeed Uncle Boba, as I promised. He’ll be staying with us all summer,” Din nods seriously. He glances up and meets Luke’s eyes. “Do you want to go say hi to him?” he prompts, moving away from Grogu to allow him space to jump up to his feet. “Give Mr. Skywalker a hug goodbye, tadpole,” he reminds him before Grogu runs off. Grogu does, giving Luke a tight hug that Luke returns, petting those curls one more time.
Din’s eyes follow Grogu until he hears the happy squeal and Boba’s deep laughter, and then he turns back to face Luke.
Luke blinks. This is the first time they’ve been alone in a room anywhere, no one else, not even Grogu around, and it seems intentional . Like Din planned for this. A flutter of hope that he hasn’t been imagining the tension between them going both ways rises in him. Luke’s eyes trace the features of Din’s face. The hair pulled back at the top of his head by the mirrored sunglasses sitting there, the curls wild but soft-looking under them. He sees his reflection in them and swallows. He looks smitten. He’s blushing, red spots high on his cheeks. He pushes his dark blond hair away from his face, blinks and continues down, following the line of Din’s brow, the curve of his hooked but still handsome nose, the full lips. Luke sighs and then inhales sharply before throwing himself at Din, wrapping his arms around those wide, strong shoulders and pressing his lips to Din’s.
Finally .
“Finally,” Din echoes Luke’s thoughts, sighing into his mouth as he buries his fingers in Luke’s hair. “Fucking finally,” he repeats and deepens the kiss, asking for more, and Luke gives him everything he’s got. Din makes to move forward and stumbles - the child-sized chair he sat in failed to release him and followed when he stood.
Din looks behind him and snorts, then bursts into an easy, relieved, happy laugh, Luke joining him when he realizes what stopped their kiss. Din shimmies himself out of the chair’s hold and kneels in front of Luke instead, hands cupping Luke’s jaw reverently as he kisses him again.
When they break apart a second time, Din’s sunglasses are askew on his head, where Luke’s fingers had made trails through the curls, enjoying their tickling softness. Din is flushed, and his eyes can’t seem to focus on one spot, jumping from Luke’s eyes to his lips, to his neck, and back up.
Din bites his bottom lip as if he’s trying not to grin. “Been wanting to do this for a while ,” he sighs.
“Not as long as I have,” Luke challenges. He smirks, biting his lip to remind himself of the tingle of Din’s teeth.
“I’ve been thinking about your eyes and wondering if your hair is as soft as it looks and what your lips taste like since I’ve registered Grogu to this school. Your picture and your biography on the school website.” Din’s trump card floors Luke, leaving him gasping in surprise.
“Did you sign your son up to my class because you thought I was hot ?” he asks, torn between feeling outraged and flattered, scandalized and besotted.
“No. I signed my son up to your class because every parent I spoke to told me that ‘Mr. Skywalker is the best,’ and after I’d read up on you, I agreed, Mr. Purple Heart.” Din teases and leans forward to peck Luke’s lips again, stealing a kiss like he’s only half sure he’s allowed.
Luke leans down to kiss him fully, and they get sidetracked for several minutes. Din tastes of coffee, and maybe the sandwich he had for lunch. It’s still the best thing Luke has tasted in the past 12 months. Luke suddenly breaks them apart as if electrified as he remembers where they are and how they got here.
“Are Grogu and your brother waiting for you?”
Din laughs. “God no,” he breathes out. “Boba was under strict orders to take Grogu out for ice cream and not call me until I text and say I’m free,” he explains. “Which could be tomorrow,” he adds suggestively.
“Tomorrow?” Luke raises his eyebrows.
“Tomorrow,” Din nods.
“Confident,” Luke snarks, leaning away from Din now. He enjoys the sight of Din following him to stay close. Din is still kneeling on the floor between Luke’s legs.
“Hopeful,” he corrects in a whisper. He squeezes both hands on Luke’s thighs, rising to capture Luke’s lips again for another, shorter kiss. “Have dinner with me?” he whispers again, just for the two of them, and it feels like all of Luke’s prayers have been answered. “You still owe me the story of why you and your sister have different last names,” he huffs a laugh.
“My place?” Luke offers, unashamed now. He ignores the mention of his backstory—a heavy weight for a different day. Right now, he has other plans in mind.
Din smiles at first and then seems to sober, pulling away from Luke and finally sitting back on his haunches. His knees crack. Luke keeps himself from making a joke. Din looks a little somber as he says, “Unless you want Grogu-shaped interruptions, it’ll have to be your place. At least until we tell him about… this.” He gestures between them with his hand, then hesitates, “If, I guess. If we tell him,” he amends. Luke takes the large hand in his own. It’s warm and calloused, but it squeezes around his hand fondly.
Luke stands, still holding Din’s hand; he pulls him to his feet. “ When we tell him,” he confirms. “We better go then. I don’t think I can stand in traffic thinking about all the things I want to do to you and not get arrested for indecent exposure,” he jokes, but he knows that there’s more than just a grain of truth to it. Din laughs, and his cheeks flush a delightful red. He helps Luke put the game of Snakes and Ladders away and takes Luke’s bag when Luke takes one final look at his classroom before turning off the light and locking the door.
They kiss again inside Luke’s tiny, uncomfortable car, and it takes a good few minutes before Luke is able to muster the willpower to break away and start the car so they can drive away. Din has a warm, heavy hand on Luke’s thigh, thumb running on the outer seam of Luke’s blue jeans in a maddening, slow back-and-forth.
Luke doesn't remember much of what happens when they get to his place other than a flurry of clothes flying off of them, Din's boot getting stuck on his foot, and Luke's errant sock refusing to budge until Din kneels to take it off and kiss his way back up again, but later, when they've gotten it out of their system, Luke has his head on Din's chest, curled into each other in Luke’s bed, listening to his slowing heartbeat. “I hope I get a dad like you every year from now on,” he says, smiling.
Din scoffs. “I certainly don't,” he protests.
Luke raises his head, leaning on an elbow. “Why not?” he wonders, offended.
“ Obviously , if you kiss all of them at the end of the year, I'm less of a fan,” Din explains snarkily.
Luke tsks and smacks a hand on Din's chest. “I meant a dad who consistently shows up! Volunteers, buys things off the list!” he huffs, then laughs, basking in the possessive hand Din tightens around him.
“It was 50-50, you know? 50% for Grogu, 50% an excuse to spend more time with you and make you smile,” Din confides, whispering into Luke's hair, kissing the crown of his head reverently.
Luke can't help it; he climbs up and kisses Din again, making them lose track of time once more.
“Boba was betting on me going broke before anything came out of it,” Din smirks, squeezing Luke close to his body.
“I was so ready to let you fuck me over my desk the first time we met, and you sat in the mini chair,” Luke admits, enjoying the way Din's eyes go darker, the nip to his jaw line.
“We could still make that happen,” Din says, and the sneaky bastard knows exactly what he's doing.
Luke has a Problem that has turned into a Major Issue and then Best Thing To Ever Happen, and it's amazing.