Just a Crazy Fan

“Would you rather have to shout all the time, or whisper all the time?”

Her voice cuts like a knife through the emptiness of the cockpit. It’s abrupt, no doubt, but it’s a sweeter tune than the ambient noise of machinery and mechanics. Tech turns to the co-pilot's seat where she reclines, having stolen Echo’s spot when he decided to go with Wrecker and Omega off the ship and explore the planet. She’d chosen to stay with him and Hunter. The reason wasn’t disclosed. 

Her eyes are still glued onto the book in her lap, absentmindedly pinching a page between two fingers while her leg rocks. His datapad drops from where it was lifted to his face as he stares curiously at her image. He can feel his eyes strain; only then he realizes that he’s been staring at a blue screen for far too long. She’s much more soothing, he can conclude rather quickly. Everything about her is rather calming and softer if he were to compare.

“I’m sorry?” He asks softly. She looks up with large eyes and raised eyebrows. Tech tilts his head, probing with his gaze. “You said something, did you not?”

She nods and repeats the question, softer than before. He blinks, still unsure of the context. Her eyes flash away anxiously when he doesn’t answer after a few split seconds.

“I-I’m sorry, that was super random,” She backtracks, sinking back into the cushion of her seat. Tech gapes, panicking as he sees how she hesitates and turns away, and he chokes on his next intake of breath.

“No, no, go on,” He tries to encourage her in a bubbling stammer, leaning forward to grip the back of the seat; the action cages her in ever-so-slightly. She looks back after a brief moment of uncertainty, eyes still wide and wary. “I-I was just surprised. Please, continue?”

His words manage to fix any damage he might've inflicted before; a sweet grin appears over the twist of her lips. Tech grins and takes a mental picture of the scene in front of him, in order to go back and admire her when he has the space and time alone. 

He isn’t very certain where these emotions initially came from, and he is usually so certain about most things. All he can say is that suddenly, or rather slowly building up, he isn’t sure, did they emerge and take up the forefront of his mind. Now when he has nothing else to think of, his thoughts drift to her. The little things he’s picked up on and likes about her. Small details. Interests and dislikes. It’s quite unfamiliar to him, but it isn’t unwelcome. If only he knew how to express these emotions outwardly…

She blinks, slightly dumbfounded, but continues.

“Well uh, personally, I think I would choose whisper,” She says, shrugging. She turns and leans back on the chair. “Shouting, I feel like I would just become a bother.”

Tech nods.

“I agree,” He says. When she gazes back, he realizes the connotation of his words. He takes a panicked breath. “Not that you would be a bother.” He corrects himself. She bites the corner of her lip as she listens, and he looks away for a moment as he talks. “Just that it would be quite annoying if anyone were to shout all the time. And um, I would certainly choose to whisper as well. Though I suppose some might choose to shout… Someone loud like Wrecker, perhaps, or-”

Before he is caught up in his words again, she lets out a warm chuckle. He gazes up, watching her eyes flutter open and close; she turns and leans her chin on the crest of her shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, Tech,” She assures him. “I knew what you meant.”

He blinks.

“Oh,” he mutters absentmindedly. “Right. I’m sorry.” 

Her eyebrows knit together.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” She remarks. 

He shrugs.

“I went on a bit of a tangent,” He says, looking away. The datapad resting on his lap looks very appealing at that moment. But he doesn’t reach for it even as his fingers twitch and curl around his thigh. 

She frowns.

“I wanted you to answer me,” She says. He bargains with his eyes at her insistence before shrugging without much care.

“Well, yes, I suppose you did.” 

When she scoffs, a small part of him panics. But she looks so sweet, so calming and relaxed that it's hard to think that she meant it to be any part rude or mean. 

"Let's play," She says ardently, patting her lap.

Tech nods and tries to appear as casual as he can, even with an invisible pressure tugging at his heartstrings.

"Let's," He responds.

She smiles, readjusting her spot in her seat and crossing her legs.

“Hm... Would you rather always say what you were thinking," She begins, her gaze fixating somewhere else with contemplation in her eyes, "...Or never be able to speak again."

Tech watches intently and doesn't even look away even as she returns her stare back to him.

"Always say what I am thinking," He says, then adds confidently, "I already do that anyway," But he doesn't realize the lie between his words until afterward.

She blinks.

"You do?" She asks.

He flashes a look of faux gawk, acting as shocked at her doubt as best as possible.

"Of course," He tells her, chin dipping down and turning inward. "I say most things that are on my mind."

She frowns and her lips purse together; something flashes over her eyes that he isn't able to decipher.

"Right," She exhales, before leaning back again and breaking the tension between the two. Tech lets out a heavy breath, before saying something to free himself of the stress being inflicted on his head. Talking to her without appearing so infatuated truly is harder than he thought. 

"Would you rather give away all your credits or all your possessions?"

She perks up, eyes brightening the longer he speaks. He can feel his own heart skip a few beats at the sight. 

"I think possessions," She says once he finishes. "Because, well, if you still have credits, you can just buy them again."

Tech nods in agreement. 

"That does make logical sense. Though... what if one weren't in much wealth?"

She hums, looking away to the window as she thinks for a brief moment. 

"I guess then credits. Because possessions than would be important."

"I think that's what I would choose," Tech further explains. Without even realizing it, that pesky habit of his peeks its head; as he continues talking, he raises his pointed index finger to additionally assert his point. "Because our squad doesn't have lots of credits, to begin with. And we couldn't do without the Marauder."

"You could always just continue doing jobs for Cid," She interjects. Tech turns his head. She bites her lip and shrugs. "Y'know, build your balance back up."

He nods softly.

"Exactly."

She asks the next question.

"Would you rather..." She leans in closer to him, only her bottom on the seat now as the rest careens toward the pilot's chair. His eyebrows knit together; he's unsure if she even realizes how she tries to come closer. But he dismisses it; he decides to lean in closer and leans elbows on his knees. "...Fight a blind or deaf Jedi?"

He hums thoughtfully and looks away, but he can feel the gentle gaze she holds on his face. Tech inhales a shaky breath, and he internally curses himself for acting like such a mess.

"I don't think there's much of a difference," He says, looking back. He almost leans away from the surprise that surges through him when he makes striking eye contact. She looks so interested, so thoughtful, and unbearably sweet. He drifts away from her eyes and lower to her parted lips but looks back up again quickly. He doesn't know which one is worse to look at. "Either way, they'll still have a powerful connection to the force and be able to fight competitively even without one of their main senses."

Thankfully, she's the one to break eye contact. He has time to breathe.

"Oh. That makes a lot of sense," She says. Her hands fold over each other and on top of a knee, her legs crossing. "Sometimes I forget how smart you are."

Unknowingly, a pigment of pink dust over Tech's cheeks at the compliment; but she seems to notice. She grins.

"Thank you," He manages to chirp through his tightly sealed lips.

She nods, but it's more of a subtle dip of her chin as she mouths 'You're welcome' without much thought accompanied by a sickly sweet smile. 

"Your turn."

"Huh?"

She huffs playfully, leaning one side of her body on the back of the seat.

"Y'know, ask a question," She says. 

Tech blinks.

"Oh. Right."

He thinks for a brief moment before he speaks again.

"Would you rather... have a one-minute conversation with your past self or your future self?" He asks. 

She hums, putting a finger to her chin and tapping it once, twice, staring off into the unseeable distance.

"Hm..." She says, half genuine, but half to be silly. She drops her hand and points it in his direction, but not to accuse. "Will anything I say be able to affect their decisions?"

Tech raises his eyebrows, actually surprised at the question.

"Good question," He compliments her, "Let's say, no. They don't."

She nods curiously and sinks further onto her side leaning on the seat.

"Then my future self. I'd like to see what I get up to," She explains.

Tech looks thoughtfully at her expression, the way she appears so perfectly poised and relaxed while he feels anything but; itching in his seat, overthinking every single word he says, attempting to perfectly craft and construct sentences all to come off still as a blubbering mess. But he'll try; he really will, if it means he can spend more time with her.

"And if you were able to affect decisions?"

Another look that he doesn't know the origin of washes over her face.

"Past," She says. "I'd tell her not to do certain things. Fix some mistakes, I think."

Tech's head lifts and his mouth drops ever so slightly with the revelation.

"Ah. I see..." He mutters; when she only makes a small noise of approval and goes silent again, looking at him as though he should continue, he lets out a shaky breath before he lets out an unconfined thought. "...Like what?"

She shrugs automatically without actually looking.

"Don't know." Her hand comes to the cushion, softly gripping it without her gaze lingering away from his eyes once. The act is so strangely intimate, yet they're still about a foot apart from each other. "I guess I'd stop myself from entering toxic relationships or making bad decisions..."

He nods in agreement.

"I think I would do the same."

"Would you rather lose your vision or your hearing?" She asks almost immediately after he finishes his sentence, and for once, he gratefully appreciates being interrupted; the silence is hauntingly loud when he is anxious.

Tech thinks for a brief moment before answering.

"Hearing," He answers. "Sight is vital in my field of work. And I could always learn BSL."

She tilts her head, perplexed.

"BSL?"

"Basic Sign Language, yes," He says quickly. Her mouth opens and she leans backward, nodding with understanding.

"That makes sense..." She mutters; he is unsure if it is to herself or to him. Instead, he decides to ask,

"What would you choose?"

She returns to how she sat before and shrugs lazily.

"I'm not sure," She says. "Hearing makes the most sense, I couldn't bear seeing darkness all day. But I love certain sounds. Replaying them over and over in my head wouldn't feel the same."

He lets out a breath through his nose.

"I agree. I couldn't imagine being unable to see your face every day."

Slowly, as the words begin to pour out, he realizes what he's said. His mouth shuts and his eyes widen, looking away with a ghostly realization and goes dead silent.

Her eyebrows knit together and she frowns.

"What?" She mumbles, head tilting as she speaks.

"I'm sorry," He blurts, hiding his face in his hands. Kriff, everything is ruined, he thinks. She'll immediately stop wanting to hang out after this, and he'll have to exile himself in his bunk and never see the light of day again, everything has been ruined by a tiny slip-up that should have never happened due to his great intelligence- "that was extremely inappropriate. I understand if you no longer want to continue this conversation, I-"

"No, no," She interrupts him mid-tangent. He gazes up from where his face is hidden between his palms and tilts his head. She looks extremely perplexed at his freakout, biting the corner of her lip. "I meant that I didn't hear you."

Tech's eyes widen.

"Oh," He states, extremely bland and more of a placeholder for something else. But for a pregnant pause, nothing fills in the blank.

"I, uh."

She lets her bottom lip free from her teeth and slumps backward, loosening the atmosphere.

"-I just said that there are certain things I couldn't bear never seeing again," He finally manages to illustrate. The excuse isn't as eloquent and believable as he'd wanted it to be, but it is suitable enough. She nods and softens up again, crossing her arms over her chest far too suspiciously to Tech's comfort.

"Like what?" She asks.

Tech shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand, almost too offhand.

"It isn't important."

Her lips twist into something between a frown and pursing her lips at this. He tenses under her gaze. But she quickly lets it go, letting out a very subtle eye-roll he barely even catches and dropping her arms back to her side.

"...Okay," She says before gesturing towards him again, encouraging to ask him a question this time.

He obliges, though rather worriedly.

"Would you rather-" He begins, scooting a bit further off his seat to be closer. "-surround yourself with lots of people you only moderately get along with, or one person you get along with perfectly?"

She answers almost too quickly.

"Definitely the latter," She tells him, before adding a little shrug when she continues, "I already sort of do that."

Tech squints his eyes.

"Oh?" 

She turns away and hides her face before rubbing her neck tensely and gritting her teeth. 

"I mean, why else would I stay back with you?" She says.

His eyebrows raise and his mouth drops with the revelation. He bites his lip before he tries to even talk again.

"Well, I thought you might have been tired, or Wrecker didn't require your assistance watching Omega, or..."

She shakes her head.

"Not at all."

He treads carefully over his next words.

"So you enjoy my company?" He asks.

She looks at him rather obliviously, a mysterious look of bewilderment across her face, accompanied by a little grin.

"Of course," She says.

He blinks.

"Oh."

She bites her lip and stifles a giggle. She excitedly readjusts in her seat, awaiting a longer response. But he still sits there, slightly dumbfounded. 

"...I enjoy your company as well," He finally says, eyes brightening under his goggles; though he doesn't know if she can see clearly through the yellow hue they color over the brown hue.

She smiles.

"Thank you," She responds, softly and through pursed lips. He pouts a little.

"That's not something you should thank me for. It is simply a statement," He says as emotionless as possible, looking away to try and compose himself. But he can still feel her stare. It does not help his mission.

"Sure, Tech," She wonders cheekily, crossing her legs and leaning back. "Would you rather be your own boss or work for someone else?"

Tech hums.

"My own boss," He says. "The only person I've ever really reported to is Hunter. Even when we were under the GAR. So I've always had plenty of control."

She nods, leaning her head on two hands as she watches him talk.

"Yeah..." She says absentmindedly, nodding in agreement. He finally looks back at her. "...Though I'd feel lost."

Tech looks at her with a thoughtful, probing gaze.

"Have you ever not been part of a group?" He asks, genuinely curious. 

She keeps eye contact even as she shrugs and bites her lip anxiously.

"Not really," She tells him. "Always working for someone. I'm a follower by nature."

Tech mutters nonsense in curiosity at her response, looking with a strange wonder into her eyes. The certainty in her words was peculiar to him, something he hadn't seen with such a statement. It felt rather odd, almost out of character.

"How do you really know that?" He asks. Her head cranes in his direction, perplexed. 

"What do you mean?"

Tech frowns, looking away to articulate his thoughts clearly, before looking back at her again and speaking.

"If you've never been your own boss, you've never known what it's actually like," He says. "You won't ever know if you are a leader by nature if you just haven't had the opportunity to ever be one."

She raises her eyebrows and turns away, surprise etched over her face.

"...I've never thought of it that way," she finally says before looking back up with newfound clarity. Tech nods to show he's listening but doesn't make direct eye contact with her.

"Lots of clones have dealt with the same complex," he explains his understanding of the topic.

She hums softly from an opened mouth, nodding slowly.

"Guess I am a clone," She jests with a chuckle.

Tech laughs, and a rush of confidence surges through him with his next words.

"Yes, a very pretty one."

She raises an eyebrow, suspiciously eyeing him with disbelief.

"...Right."

And Maker, the insecurities drop in again as if they never left.

"Kriff, I'm sorry," he immediately blurts, waving a hand to get her barely lingering attention. When she looks back, he continues.

"I- apologize, kriff... if I made you uncomfortable, it was a thought that just slipped out-"

Suddenly, a warm melody against his body, she reaches over and places a hand on his forearm. Tech's grounded now and gazes up. Her eyes are soft, fully understanding and relaxed, soothing in a way that steadies his erratic heartbeat. She smiles when he feels him calm down.

"Hey, again, it's fine," she says. He almost looks away with the intensity of her thoughtful, undeservedly kind stare. "I'd like to hear it. You did say you always say what you think."

Tech shrugs weakly in agreement.

"I did say that, yes."

She grins and pats his arm one last time before pulling away, going back to her original spot and gesturing with her chin in his direction.

"Okay. Ask one now."

He thinks for a moment.

"Would you rather have to spend an entire year sharing a room with me, or Wrecker?" He asks.

She gasps.

"Oh, Maker...."

He laughs at her exclamation but falls silent again with a gaping mouth when she continues.

"You, definitely."

He almost reacts with surprise; almost. He's able to suppress the giddy squeak he wants to let out and instead raises his eyebrows.

"I should've picked a harder question," He says, making her laugh softly. He observes her; she still looks away and out the window, somewhere that was nothing even close to spectacular. Her eyes twinkle; but not from lights; she lights them up all herself.

"Would you rather," She begins; her head cocks back to him and an open-mouthed grin spreads over her face. "Have to help me organize my life into a routine, or follow Omega around with no way of stopping her roaming?"

Tech hisses in a sharp breath, shaking his head in faux disapproval. He tries to tease, tries to be relaxed and composed, the perfect example of a casual flirt. He's intelligent enough to know he could never truly be one of those men, but he can try.

"A difficult decision-" She chuckles at his comment. "-But you. Again."

She grins; it's more languid than before, casual but sweet all the same.

"I'm flattered," She says delicately.

His lips purse.

"You should always feel that way when I am around," He responds coolly. He turns away to keep his composure. He's also intelligent enough to know that if he were to look back, any semblance of control or simple understanding of conversation skills would dissolve once his eyes locked on hers.

Yet in the corner of his eye, he can see her head tilt.

"Why?"

He stammers, a gloved hand rubbing at his neck while he coarsely forces out his next words.

"Well, since I said that I usually say what I'm thinking, I must be showering you with compliments all the time..."

His eyes shut tight for a split second, wincing over an invisible punch to the gut. Every single word that comes out of his mouth constitutes him to cuss himself out. Berate his mind for being so flustered and clammy around her. Slowly, he peels one eye open and forces himself to look at her. Her eyes are drowned in confusion, but the corners of her lips slowly curl up with each passing second.

"Oh..." She finally mutters. Her head fixes back upright and she blinks once, twice, eyebrows furrowing with concentration. She's thinking, anyone could tell that, but he doesn't know what. She still grins, like a cocky, yet timid Cheshire cat. "...I don't feel that way."

It's his time to look confused.

"I don't compliment you?" He asks.

Her eyes flit away, then back to him again.

"Well, you do but..."

He shakes his head; her own outward confidence makes him feel less silly trying to act flirtatiously. 

"Then I'm not doing it enough," He asserts with disapproval. "I should keep to my word."

Her eyebrow pushes together and she lets out a confused, but charmed breath.

"It's just would you rather, Tech," she giggles.

Her words almost catch him off guard, but he manages to rebuke her quick-wittedly.

"It's important to keep integrity at all times," He says.

She giggles and leans back, pulling away from his striking eye contact. He winces internally.

"Okayyy," She says. She crossed her legs and folds her hands on top of her knee. "If you say so. What are you thinking then?" 

She beams at him, and so, he says what he thinks in that moment.

"That your smile is enchanting."

Her eyes widen. Immediately she turns away and covers her mouth with her palm, hiding something, perhaps the smile he complimented so genuinely, and shakes her head. He grins at the sight.

"I'm also thinking about how I feel so suddenly incompetent and unable to communicate when you're around," he says.

She snaps her head back to him, eyes timid and soft. He can see the smile and wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. He can't understand why she'd want to hide it in the first place if he said how much he liked it.

"Really?" She asks through her parted fingers, quiet.

He nods entirely sure.

"Yes."

Her eyes flit to his and away again. Wordlessly, she turns completely to face him, scooting closer so her bottom barely lies on the cushion. Her face leans in closer so it lingers over his like a hovering bird over a branch. It's teasing and terrifying, and he shivers when he takes a deep breath in.

She asks, delicately and wary,

"Would you like to hear what I am thinking, Tech?"

"Please," he rasps.

"How much I want to kiss you right now."

His mouth drops, and her smile widens. Bashfully she looks away, wiping her cheek as if her blush would disappear. He watches, still awestruck and positively frozen. 

"...Tech?" She asks. Wordlessly, he scootches forward. His breathing fans over hers; their lips are so close to touching, but he hesitates.

Is this really happening?

Really happening?

"...You want to kiss me," He confirms verbally, and she softly swipes her tongue over her bottom lip, nodding.

"I do," She says.

Tech doesn't realize he's leaned in so close until she finally closes the small gap. A wave of tingling warmth rush over his skin; he shivers pleasantly. Her lips are soft, so gentle, feathery light over his that if he weren't so enraptured he wouldn't feel them. She dives in further, tilting her head to the right to gain better access; his lips mold to hers securely.

This is heaven; he never wants to leave.

She eventually breaks away but doesn't move. Heavy pants fan over his parted lips as they both catch their breath. Her eyes are shut close when his flutter opens. Tech smiles.

"Was it what you thought it would be like?" He asks.

Without missing a beat, she nods with her eyes still closed. 

"Even better," She smiles through it.

Just then, a curse echoes through the cockpit. They snap their heads to the voice; Hunter watches them with disdain and a defeat that couldn't have been from the kiss.

"Dank farrik, couldn't you have waited for a couple more rotations to do that?"

"...Why?"

"Now I owe Wrecker two weeks of Mantell Mix!"

You sat between Din's legs, leaning into his chest as he leaned against the cool metal walls of the room, arms draped loosely around you as he stared out the ship's windows. You were suspended, resting, drifting slowly through space. Distant stars and planets dotted the deep expanse of dark sky which he focused so absent-mindedly on. You had spent many days admiring them yourself, but the sight of his uncovered face now held far more appeal to you than any star.

You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as he peered over, the corner of his mouth curling slightly as he caught you. This was new to both of you, and you didn't want to push it, but you couldn't help yourself. Slowly, you had grown feelings for him, and slowly, he opened himself up to you. But only recently had things taken a turn. Not long ago, sitting all pressed up against him like that would be nothing more than a fantasy. And now, here you were, laughing in embarrassment as he eyed you with his perfect dark eyes, smile gradually growing.

You counted yourself lucky, knowing full well that had you met him any sooner that this never would have happened. Even as you knew him, he had changed. Not long ago, attachment would be out of the question. You had kept your own feelings at bay for that reason, not wanting to pressure him. And he hadn't made it easy.

Yet, despite the somehow fleeting feeling of it at all, he put you at ease. As if, no matter what had happened and how things played out, you would have found each other anyway. He somehow managed to both make your heart race ceaselessly, and make you feel as calm and serene as you knew yourself capable.

"What is it?" He asked, his voice smooth and quiet. You adored the sound of it without the obstruction of his helmet.

"Nothing," You replied, resting your head against his chest. He chuckled, giving you a look which signaled he wasn't satisfied with your answer, but said nothing more of it. You held back a smile, loving how expressive his face was. He wrapped his arms firmer around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before slouching more comfortably. You half expected he wouldn't be very affectionate, for lack of practice, but he was as always tender and sweet with you. You grinned contentedly, now positioned in such a way you could continue staring at him without it being quite as obvious.

It wasn't so much that you found him pleasing to look at — which you did — but that you had known him so long without having seen him, up until recently. And strange as it was, his face just made sense to you. Every word spoken by him, every action and every characteristic that had drawn you in matched the face behind them perfectly. You already adored him, but it somehow felt like a privilege to be allowed to know him enough to see him. And for that, you couldn't keep yourself from admiring him.

He glanced down, raising an eyebrow as you laughed, burying your face in his neck to hide your embarrassment.

"What?" He insisted with a nervous laugh.

"Sorry," You said, pulling back and feeling your heart swell at the sight of him smiling. You were tempted to explain, but you had already complimented him countless times. And besides that, you knew he knew exactly why you couldn't keep your eyes off of him. His raised eyebrow and slight grin gave him away.

He looked back out the window, leaning his head against the wall and allowing you full view of him, this time never looking back toward you. After all, it was only fair. He had been allowed countless opportunities to admire you without you realizing it, his gaze concealed by his helmet. And admittedly, he enjoyed the feeling of being perceived and admired by you more than he felt he should.

The taste hit your mouth much faster than you had expected. It was somehow bitter and savory all at once, and the thick texture completely coated the inside of your mouth.

If your stomach wasn’t so empty, and you didn’t have four armed Tusken Raiders staring at you from around the campfire, you may have made a face. But the drink was all you had, and the last thing you wanted to do was disrespect these people.

They had allowed you and Din to pass over their land, provided you with the drink, and even offered a tent for you to spend the night. The mission the two of you were on was one of the most demanding yet, and the safety of a cool tent for some much needed sleep was so kind it brought tears to your eyes.

You thanked the maker that Din could communicate with them. He had been translating for you all night.

It was yet another endearing and powerful aspect of the once intimidating man that you now admired, and held close to your heart.

You pulled the cup away and swallowed the thick juice, before smiling at the chieftain sitting across from you. The deep black of the night sky mixed with the vibrant reds of the fire made him more intimidating than ever, but also more commanding.

“How do I say ‘thank you’?” you asked Din over the crackling of the fire.

He pressed his palms together, and let them fall towards his lap.

“Like that,” he said. “Slowly.”

You set the cup down next to you and repeated the motion he made with your own hands.

The chieftain became somehow more tense, and bowed his head to you. He then placed his staff down in the sand, and made more motions with his hands, never removing his eyesight from you.

“He is saying ‘you’re welcome,” Din said. Your heart became louder in your ears.

“He said that the drink they offered is hard to come by, and he appreciates your respect towards their hospitality.”

You nodded to the chief, nice and slow, and he nodded back. A breath of relief released from your nose.

The chief Tusken then turned his body towards Din, and the two of them started another conversation.

You picked the cup back up and took a few more sips, getting used to the odd taste and enjoying the feeling of a full belly. You watched Din expertly converse with the chief, and you were completely in awe of him.

He made it look so natural. So easy. You wondered if he learned the language overtime, or in his Mandalorian training when he was a boy. Had he always been so open to the Tuskens, or had he mistaken them for an enemy and learned of their ruthless skills the hard way.

Either way, seeing him in such a domestic and natural state was rare for you, and all you wanted to do was watch him. Only him.

You were slowly realizing that the longer you worked with the Mandalorian, the easier it was to just get lost in his elegance.

His gleaming beskar was the perfect source to reflect light, and it made the burning glow of the fire paint a range of colors on his armor. It stretched over his entire body, giving it an orange-ish glow. Every inch of him was breathtaking, especially his intricately carved helmet.

You knew you weren’t supposed to think about it, you knew you weren’t supposed to imagine it, and you definitely knew you weren’t supposed to daydream about it…

…but you wondered just how breathtaking he was underneath it all.

You continued to sit and watch, just thinking and observing your Mandalorian, before the chieftain looked at you once more. You saw him in your peripheral vision, and so you turned your head to look back at him.

You smiled at him as delicately as you could, not showing any teeth, and the chief straightened up again. His shoulders puffed, as well as his chest, and he continued to look at you for some time. You could feel his eyes raking over your body, and you tried your best to stay as neutral as possible.

These people were kind and respectful, especially the chief, and the gratitude in your eyes was the only gift you could give them in return. You wished you could give them more.

Finally, the chief made eye contact with Din again, and signed something longer than before.

The Mandalorian looked rather taken aback once the Tusken finished his statement, and your eyebrows wrinkled in curiosity at his reaction.

“Mando,” you said, not wanting to reveal his true name, “everything ok?”

Din continued to look at the chief, holding his hands out in front of him awkwardly as if he was lost for words, before he turned his visor to face you.

“He said…he said that you’re beautiful.”

Your mouth instantly went dry.

Beautiful.

You didn’t know if you’d ever been called that before.

“Oh…” you said, trying to look anywhere but the two men.

“He said that your smile is like the twin-sunset, and… and your kindness is a treasure,” Din continued. “They currently have very few women, but the men of this tribe would make sure that a woman like you would find this place very comfortable. They would make it your home.”

You were dumbfounded. Completely speechless.

A home. They were offering you a home.

You had grown up traveling from place to place, never once having the opportunity to grow roots or feel as if you belonged. You spent your teenage years embracing that freedom and independence, and they were what got you into bounty hunting in the first place.

You had convinced yourself that a home would never exist for you. Your life was the chase and the reward, and you were willing to bet it would stay like that until your final heartbeat.

But when you looked back up at Din, watching the smoke dance around his broad frame and the deep breaths he took underneath all that armor, you knew the truth.

Your home was never meant to be a place. It was always meant to be a person.

“Tell him thank you,” you replied to Din. “But I’ve already found a home.”

The invisible mask that Din protected himself with cracked for only a few seconds, and he let his emotions overtake him. He released a shaky breath of relief. You saw his shoulders shake and his hands ball into fists, before he straightened up and put the mask back on.

This reaction to your words was so quick that you barely caught it, but you were so glad you did.

You knew he understood. He always found a way to understand.

You swallowed thickly and let your eyes flutter shut, trying your best to recollect yourself.

Din communicated your statement to the chief, and you swore you saw his shoulders sink in defeat. The chief made his final response, and stood up with his staff in hand. The men around him stood up as well, and they slowly made their way towards their own tents.

“Come on,” Din said, pulling his body weight up. “We both need sleep.”

He reached out his arm to help you up, and you gladly took it.

He led you to a small beige tent near the edge of the camp, and he held the material open so you could crawl in first.

“I apologize if it’s a bit cramped,” he said sweetly. “This was all they had.”

“It’s perfect Din,” you said. You missed the familiar feeling of his name on your tongue. “Thank you.”

He nodded, and you took a seat on the warm, soft ground. He remained standing.

“These people are…very kind,” Din said.

“Yes. Very,” you responded.

“I’m surprised you didn’t want to stay with the chief. An offer like that is quite rare.”

Want to stay?

“What?” you asked him softly. “Why would I want to stay?”

“The life we have, it’s never been safe. These people can protect you. Probably better than I can—"

“Din—"

“—they don’t have to worry about credits, or jobs or, even where their next meal will come from. They know the sand. They provide for themselves. You could live a quiet life, not one in constant danger.”

He paused, letting his eyes fall over your form.

“It seems…it seems like it’s obvious. You should stay.”

You looked at him, a light mist beginning to form in your eyes, and you licked your lips. Preparing yourself for what you were about to say.

“Din,” you began. “Why would I go anywhere that wasn’t with you?”

You stared into his ever-piercing visor as you spoke, watching his shallow breaths and emotionless stance.

This silent, brooding Din had once scared you more than anything.

It felt like his eyes were peeling back your skin, seeing every secret and mistake you desperately tried to hide. You could never read him, no matter how hard you tried. And it scared you shitless.

But now, you knew what you were staring at. You were staring at a man who had given you his name, his identity, his child. You knew he trusted you, and you trusted him.

So if he wanted to rake his eyes over every nook and cranny of you, then fine. There wasn’t much he didn’t know already.

“I meant what I said by the fire,” you continued. “I don’t want to leave. I never want to leave.”

What you couldn’t see was Din’s clenched jaw, and his stomach was dropping to his feet. He couldn’t physically take his eyes off of you. Even if he tried.

“This,” you said, gesturing to the fabric around you, “is not what a home is. Home is a feeling.”

Here goes nothing.

“And you give me that feeling.”

The words were spoken, suspended in the air, and there was no turning back.

You exhaled, relieved to finally get that off your chest, before standing up as confidently as you could.

“My place is by your side. Do you understand?”

Din’s helmet bobbed up and down, and an even longer, harsher wave of relief washed over you.

“Good,” you said, and turned around to prepare your bed for the night.

The blankets the Tuskens had provided you were soft and thick. They would surely keep you warm as you slept, and your need for sleep was only getting worse.

You laid down the first blanket, and then covered yourself with the other. You laid down on your side, facing the still frozen Mandalorian.

“We both need sleep,” you said, repeating Din’s earlier statement, and closed your eyes.

Your body sunk into the sand, but your mind was more awake than ever.

You wanted him to say something. Anything. You had stripped yourself bare for him, being more honest than you ever had before, and he just stood there. You understood his difficulty with words, but at least a “thank you” would have been nice.

It was only a few moments of silence before you heard him walk towards his own blankets, and he began to take off his armor.

You heard the familiar clicks and snaps of each piece being taken off, and he set them delicately on the ground, trying to be as quiet as possible. You had watched him do this many times before, and so the routine had become cemented in your brain. The boots were first, then the chest, then the arms, then the legs.

You had never heard the helmet drop, though. Never.

And so when you heard a foreign puff of air escape, and one last piece of metal was dropped on to the sand, your sleep deprived brain started putting the pieces together.

The helmet was off. In your presence. For the first time ever.

You tried your best to keep up your act of fake sleeping. You felt sweat start to drip down your back and your heart begin to race. Your lungs clamored and begged for more air.

But you held on.

You then felt Din’s body move back towards you, and he laid his own blanket next to yours. Small grunts escaped his mouth as he settled in to the makeshift bed, and tiny pieces of sand flew in the air when he pulled his second blanket over his torso.

He laid his head down, and you had to force yourself to keep your eyes closed. The heat from his breath was so close to your lips, and the scent of his skin made your brain feel loopy.

He had to have thought you were asleep. If he knew you were awake, he would never have done what he did next.

He lifted his right arm and stroked his knuckles over your cheek. His touch was so light against your burning skin that you barely felt any pressure, but your stomach coiled and your cheekbones tingled.

“I lied to you today,” he whispered. “These people can never protect you the way I can.”

Your heartbeat was so loud you could barely hear. Shots of electricity slithered down your thighs.

“And I promise you, Y/N, I will do it for the rest of my life. If you’ll have me.”

He traced your cheek with his knuckles once more, and the breaths from his mouth were getting closer and closer to your lips. The puffs of air from your own nose were beginning to mix with his.

“You really are beautiful,” he said, and pulled his hand away. He tucked it underneath his blanket, and you resisted the urge to beg him to touch you again. It took every ounce of strength from your body.

Silence filled the tent for some time, and you finally started to relax. You couldn’t hold back sleep any longer.

As the last drops of consciousness were beginning to leave you, Din’s body moved closer to yours, and a scratch of facial hair rubbed against your forehead.

“You’re my home too,” he breathed.

The vulnerability and truth behind his words were the final kick to send your brain off to sleep, and the smell and feel of him stayed wrapped around you as you dreamt.

You had finally made it home.

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