#dinhan

“Mando - ” Karga started.

“Pass.”

Karga reached for the puck and powered it back up.  Its flickering light smoothed out the etched age of his face. The kid splashed around the sink a little less violently now, distracted by the rotating hologram.  

“It’s a big job,” Karga said.

“And it’s still a pass,” Din said, moving his attention to the robes floating in the water on the other side of the sink.

“Galivanting across the galaxy can’t be cheap.”

Din felt a prickle of annoyance claw its way through him then, and he scrubbed a little harder at the kid’s tunic than was probably necessary. Zig-zagging his way through the systems was eating away at what meager savings he had at an alarming rate, and it aggravated him to no end that Karga was willing to push that button.

“Right now, I’m doing everything I can to keep the Empire off my back,” Din said, bringing the clothing out of the soapy water and thrusting the bundle under the tap to rinse and wring out. “I don’t need the New Republic piling on, too. They get wind I grabbed up one of their biggest war heroes, that’s exactly what will happen.”

“New Republic’s who posted the job,” Karga replied evenly.

That – well, that gave Din pause.  

He glanced up at Karga, who’d poured himself another drink and was sipping slowly at the contents. The older man shrugged and looked back at the face above the puck. “Yeah, that’s right. And they’re after him for something big, too. Absconded with some sensitive material a year or so back, disappeared into the Mid Rim for a while running cargo for some real bad actors. Couple months back, resurfaced in the Outer Rim looking a whole lot richer and not too subtle about it either.”

“So the New Republic thinks he sold information,” Din said.

“I think that’s the general consensus, yes.”

“You seem to know a lot. That whole ‘asking questions’ thing go out the window during the restructuring?”

Karga looked at him carefully, and not without a bit of an edge. “All I know is what the client posted in their missive to the Guild. They’re mad, they’re motivated, and they’re willing to pay.”

“How long have you been sitting on this bounty?

“Now who’s asking questions?” Karga asked coolly, quickly, but relented just as fast. “Got the posting this time yesterday. Got it certified this morning. How…serendipitous it is that you show up on my doorstep not twelve hours later?”

“Serendipitous, sure. That’s one word for it. Who were you going to give the bounty to?”

“Bossk.”

Din scoffed, remembering all the times he’d had the misfortune to cross paths with the arrogant Trandoshan. “Bossk’s an idiot.”

“Sure, he is. Biggest kriffin’ idiot in the whole galaxy. But he’s fast. And this job requires a certain level of expediency and discretion that I know you can provide. And I know you need the credits. So I’m offering it to you first.”

“How altruistic,” Din said drily. “That commission must be something else.”

“Look, my friend, you think building a trade-based economy from the ground up is easy? You think it’s cheap?” the older man asked. “Then there’s the clinics, the schools, houses of worship…”

“Clinics, schools. Now that’s a dirty trick, even for you.”

Karga laughed, eyeing him over the lip of his flask. “Sure, but did it work?”

“Depends. What’s the job worth?

“One twenty-five.”

“One twenty-five,” Din repeated slowly. “A hundred and twenty-five thousand?”

“That’s right.”

Din blinked. “I find it hard to believe the New Republic’s got that kind of cash to throw around. I had a run-in with a couple of their defense force pilots before I touched down here, and those X-wings looked about ready to fall apart.”

“For a guy this high on the chain,” Karga said, gesturing towards the puck between them, “they’d about throw around anything to sew that mouth shut.”

“Where’s the last known location?”

“Quarry’s last known location? Nelvaan.”

Karga produced a tracking fob from his pocket with a flourish, while Din consulted the map of the known galaxy he carried around in his mind, places he’d been to, places he’d heard of. Nelvaan. Outer Rim. Ice planet. Entirely ungoverned and crawling with monsters, some of them sentient, some of them not.

“If you’re worried about the kid, we can watch him while you’re on the job.”

Din shook his head, dismissing the offer immediately. “No. The destruction of that forward operating base won’t go unnoticed. The kid can’t be around when that happens. You saw that transmission.”

Karga nodded after a moment, mouth going tight.

Din eyed the tracker and considered. “I offload here?”

“You offload at Hosnian Prime.”

If Din could have pulled at his hair in frustration, he would have. As one of the rotating capitals of the New Republic, Hosnian Prime would have minimal Imperial threat, but if his brush with those NRDF pilots a few days back had taught him anything, it was that this newly established government now had his number. That wasn’t going away just because those two orange-suited skyfliers let him off with a warning.  

If the quarry was still on Nelvaan or somewhere nearby in the system, and if he took him into custody without issue, Din would have to figure out a way to get to the rendezvous point, complete the handoff, wait for identification certification, and then re-enter the hyperlanes without being spotted, tagged, or followed.

Karga continued quickly, “Some senate rep will meet you for the tradeoff. They’ll have their man, you’ll have your credits, and everyone goes their separate ways. And think of what one twenty five could buy you. You could retire, almost. Settle down. Find yourself a nice ladylorian.”

This punched a laugh out of him, though he tried hard as all hell to suppress it. He snatched the fob from the older man’s hand, clipped it to his belt, and turned back to the kid.

“Not all heroes stay heroes, Mando,” Karga said, apropos of nothing. “Han Solo made his bed. Now he has to lie in it.”

*

It was a short jump to Nelvaan, just three quarters a standard day.

Din managed to coax the kid to sleep after they ate. He used the time alone to wash quickly, change his clothing, and fall into a hard and dreamless sleep for a few hours.  

When he woke, he forced down a cup of instant caf. Then he stripped and cleaned his blaster in the cockpit as the stars streaked by in long, bright lines, clearer and sharper without his helmet obscuring his vision.  

It was an easy task, cleaning his weapons, a familiar and mechanical one shaped by years and years of practice, and he let his mind wander while his hands moved on muscle memory.

They should be journeying to Corvus to seek out this Ahsoka Tano, one of the sorcerers who might lead them to the kid’s people. Din would do all in his power to stay true to the Creed and either take this child back to his people or raise him as a foundling. Unfortunately, all his power depended on the credits to his name.

Karga was right. Those credits were dwindling, as was his list of allies. Not all of his associates were as generous as the former magistrate, and they would sooner feed him to Imperial warlords than they would feed him monkey lizard stew.

A hundred and twenty-five thousand credits would buy him at least two years in fuel and supplies and repairs. He could once again tithe for the foundlings. He could build his savings back up. It was a windfall, that kind of money, if he could figure out a way to pull it off.  

The tracking fob’s light blinked steadily, but its flicker had quickened noticeably over the past half hour. It meant the quarry – Solo – was still on Nelvaan, and he was still up for grabs.

Din wasn’t overly concerned with the grab portion. Get in, take Solo into custody, maybe freeze him in carbonite to spare himself having to hear the infamous smuggler turned hero turned possible turncoat run his mouth, something Din knew from many others over the years the man was wont to do.

No, it was the drop portion that worried him.  

The NRDF had his ship codes, that much was clear. Entering New Republic airspace, which would encompass all of Hosnian Prime and its thousands of vertical miles and levels of atmosphere, risked a ping that would bring T-65s and who knows what else down on their heads faster than he could punch the Crest back out of orbit.  

He would have to rent or boost a ship from a nearby planet if he wanted to get past Hosnian’s scanning systems, if he wanted clearance to land. He would have to hope the receiver of the quarry wouldn’t run his credentials if he wanted to get paid. It was a lot of ifs, but it also was a lot of money.

"Couldn't you just use the Force?" Han asked with his feet back on the ground.

Luke smiled. "That was more fun."

Han turned to Din. "He didn't used to be able to do that," Han told him.

"He can now," Din said back.

Han was always desperate for Din's positive attention, Luke had learned, trying to show off to and one-up the Mandalorian all at once.

Either way, Han turned around leaving the dusty pan on the counter, hoisted Luke over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

Luke kicked his feet. "Hey!"

Han set him down on the long wooden table, pressing Luke flat on his back. Han looking over him, smirking the way he was, gave Luke a strong sense of deja vu. He remembered being nineteen, literally swept off his feet by Han Solo -- the same ways he'd just been -- a laid gently on the Falcon's dejarik table before being fucked within an inch of his life. He'd had sex before, but never like that. It was experienced and tender, but desperate and passionate. Sex with Han had been a revelation for Luke, and it still was.

When the memory of their first night came screaming back to him, Luke felt his cheeks go red. Han noticed and leaned down to kiss him, grabbing one leg by the underside of the thigh. Han was a tease, though, a didn't grind up against him or touch him over the clothes. Instead he just pulled away.

Luke sat up a little, leaving his forearms resting on the table. He was always quick to rise, and now was no exception. He'd hoped his semi would at least be discrete, but his affinity for tight pants betrayed him. Han and Din were staring at him, waiting to see what he might do.

"Sorry, didn't mean to turn you on," Han said, smiling.

Luke turned towards Din, who was still across the room, staring at the two of them. Han grabbed Luke gently by the chin and turned his head back towards him. Luke almost laughed at the show of jealousy, but he was cut off by Han's lips on his. Han pulled Luke into him, Luke's ass on the edge of the table, his legs finding their way around Han's waist, his half-hard cock finding the front Han's pants.

Luke opened his eyes mid-kiss and cast a glance over to Din, who answered it by standing and making his way over to the table. Luke leaned back into this kiss, a possessive grip on Han's shirt.

"Are you going to fuck him?" Din asked, now standing behind Han, who jumped at the sudden voice behind him. Han bit Luke's lip in surprise, but it only turned Luke on more. Luke started to unbutton his own pants, desperate to cum.

"Don't feel like going through all that trouble," Han said. Luke looked up and saw they were both watching him pull his cock out. "Besides, I don't think he'll wait for me to get that far."

Luke would have rolled his eyes if Han wasn't right. Han undid his own pants as Luke licked his left hand. Han pressed his own hard cock against Luke's and let Luke hold both of them in his hand, rubbing together. It was still too dry -- everything on Tatooine was -- so Han dropped his head down and captured Luke's cock in his mouth. While Han sucked him off, Din leaned down to kiss him. Din was still a little clumsy with kissing, but Luke founding charming.

Han sucked him off for just long enough that when he put their cocks back together it was a lot slicker. When he came back up, he pressed himself against Luke, squeezing Din out of the way.

"How are you going to fit into this?" Han asked.

"Han!" Luke scolded. Han mumbled a "sorry," but Din didn't seem bothered.

Din stepped around to the side, so he could watch them rub against each other. Din slowly undid his belt, then his zipper. Luke felt Han's lips on the side of his neck as his eyes stayed glued to Din.

"Pretty happy right here," he said.

Din stroked his own dick a few times before finally pulling his glove off. He extended the bare hand to Luke, who spit in it for him. Luke let his eyes linger on the slow way Din got himself off, fingers tracing over the head of his cock before sliding his hand down to the base, working himself over at a pace that would have been torture to Luke.

"Do you remember the first time we fucked?" Han asked Luke.

"Of course," Luke said, his breathing shallow.

"Din, he was incredible. Nineteen years old, already a war hero. I had him laid out out on my game table. He was hard, red-cheeks, pouty lips," Han smiled, "a lot like right now," Luke let himself get lost in the memory as Han talked. "I think he meant to whisper it all seductive, but he nearly shouted 'I want you inside me!'" Han kissed him hard, now and then, his lips pressed against Luke's like a promise. "He had an ass worth going to war for. Couldn't say no. Best choice I ever made." Han went on in detail -- how hot and tight Luke was, the things he said. The way he finished a little soon, but was up again by the time they made it to the bedroom for round two. Han was the dirty talker of the two of them, and he knew everything he said was for Luke more than it was for his and Din's little competition.

"He ever beg you to fuck him like that?" Han asked.

Din shook his head no. "I've been known to beg him more than once," Din confessed.

"You always take it, then?" Han asked. "I know that's how we've done it, but ..."

"I just like it more. And he's strong. Mandalorians ... we like people like that. I like people like that. Before you arrived on Nevarro yesterday, he bent me over the table, a lot like this one. I still have bruises on my hips."

"Fuck," Han said, picking up the pace of his thrusts against Luke. Things were starting to get dry, but Luke was so close he could hardly care. He couldn't even keep himself upright.

He laid back down on the table, and said, "Please, keep talking."

"Fucking him is a real gift," Han said. "I know he's a great top. Trust me, I know. But one day you'll have to switch. I'll watch, tell you what to do, how to make him scream."

Luke pictured it, him on his hands and knees in the big Nevarro bed, Din's fat cock in his ass for the first time, Han talking him through exactly how to make Luke feel good.

His pleasure reached its peak without much warning; he felt his balls tighten and he took a sharp inhale, before cumming mostly into his hand.

"Fuck, baby," he heard Han gasp. Luke opened his eyes to see Han jerking himself off next to Din now.

Din's orgasm seemed to sneak up on him too; in a moment he was cumming right onto the dusty floor in the same silent way he usually did. That seemed good enough for Han, who followed suit.

"You two are terrible house guests," Luke mumbled. Really, he regretted not taking off his top and letting one or both of them cum onto him.

"I'm sure old Ben will forgive us," Han said. He leaned over and kissed Luke. "What do you think of my idea?"

~

Din had never been happier. His two partners already loved each other, which made bringing them together that much easier. He wasn't really taking his helmet off for them yet - just lifting it to eat and drink - but all of the feelings were there. There was intimacy like Din had never really shared with romantic partners before.

But tonight, both men seemed a bit ... strange. He tried not to think about it. It had been a long time since they'd last been together. And, anyway, they still weren't back together yet, just both dating Din. Din was hoping to change all of that soon.

Luke stood up suddenly. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can do this."

"Cyar'ike," Din said, reaching out for him, "what's wrong?"

"No, Luke, you stay," Han said. "I'm making this weird. I should leave," Han offered, standing.

"Why would you leave?" Luke asked.

"He's your Mando."

"He's not my anything," Luke said.

Din's face fell behind his helmet. Oh.

"You're not?" Din asked.

"What?" Luke asked.

"You're both ... precious to me," Din said.

"We're precious?" Din couldn't tell if Han's tone was mocking or bewildered. Probably both.

Luke sat back down. "What ... why are we here?" He asked.

Din stared at the table. "We're ... on a date. Having dinner together. I thought it was time we all had dinner together, instead of leaving one person out," Din said, not sure exactly where the confusion came from.

Both men stared at him confused. They were confused? Din was confused! Images of the intimacy between them all flashed through his mind -- his helmet tilted up for shared meals; Luke leaning his body on his for comfort; he and Han exchanging parenting stories; Han getting on his --

"I thought you were both --," Din paused. "I'm sorry, I wasn't very clear."

Han sat back down. "So we're," he pointed at Din, "dating?"

"Yes."

"And you're," he pointed back and forth between him and Luke, "dating?"

"Yes."

"So we're all," he made a circle with his finger, "dating?"

"That's why I asked us to have dinner. To figure that out."

Luke's face was in his hands.

"Did you really both not know?" Din asked. "I thought I was very obvious."

Luke brushed hot tears from his face as he climbed the steps to his apartment, but new ones just kept replacing the ones he wiped away.

Leia had let herself in and had poured them each a tequila shot and a margarita to accompany it. Luke had expected a bottle of wine or a few loose beers, but his twin sister always seemed to know exactly what any situation called for. She'd even gone through the effort of putting on The Devil Wears Prada and pausing it right at the start to wait for him.

His chest tightened with anxiety and defensiveness as he looked at her, bracing himself for the inevitable I told you so.

But Leia wasn't like their father that way -- her compassion always outweighed her need to be proven right. She stood up quickly, wordlessly, and wrapped him in a tight hug. Her long brown hair was braided loosely down her back, the hair covering the tips of her ears. So it wasn't until her chin was resting on Luke's shoulder that he noticed she'd been kind enough to tuck a joint behind her ear.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Leia asked as he pulled away.

"In a minute," Luke said, walking over to the table, taking the shot without the theatrics of the salt and lime. He chased it with sips of the margarita. "We should order a pizza or something. I don't have a lot of food here." He pressed play on the remote and the movie started playing.

"It's already on the way."

~

There was a corner in of the bedroom that was Din's alone, over by the large window. It had his bookshelf with his favorites proudly displayed -- cracked spines, a palimpsest of annotations, mismatched and disorganized post it notes all cluttering up the pages. One shelf had his private liquor collection, mostly tequilas and gins, but there was one bottle of whiskey labeled "Writer's Tears." It felt apt. Din grabbed it, opened it, and drank straight from the mouth of the bottle. He winced as he swallowed it. No doubt Han would appreciate its flavors. Han had always been the whiskey drinker between them. Han might have even bought this bottle for him, but Din couldn't remember.

Han had finally given up his pleas to be let back into their bedroom or to try and talk things out, accepting, it seemed, that Din needed time to think things over before moving into conversation and resolution.

Din stared at their bare mattress. He'd pulled all of their sheets off in a fit of rage and now he was left with the unpleasant task of getting a fitted sheet on the king-sized bed alone.

He rested the whiskey on the night stand as he stretched the sheet over one corner, tucking it under the mattress and preying it would stay. He crawled to the other side, but took the previous corner with him when he did. He flopped face down on the mattress, feeling weighed down by his own pathetic grief. He let himself lay there for a moment, before pushing himself back up to try again, this time more carefully.

As he stretched the corner of the sheet back over the mattress, he spotted a phone between the headboard and the mattress. He reached for it, worried for a moment that it was Luke's. But it wasn't. He recognized it as Han's easily enough. Han was the only man Din knew who was reckless enough to carry around his iPhone without a case.

Din rested it next to the whiskey bottle, and then returned to the sheet.

With the bed finally made, he laid down and held Han's phone in his hand in a quiet contemplation. He knew Han's passcode, but he'd never been the kind of husband to go through his phone. But, then again, Han had never been the kind of husband to have things worth hiding.

Din typed in the passcode.

Din half expected a dozen furious messages from Luke, or pleading messages, or 'I told you so's. But there was nothing. Din hoped Luke had made it home okay. That he was alright. Din certainly wasn't. He'd given up crying after a short while, then let himself panic about all the ways Han had risked their relationship and his career. Now he was just left with the emptiness of a freshly-made bed and the fullness of a whiskey bottle he never drank.

He opened Han's photos. There were only a few with Luke, ones innocent enough to deny. No kissing, intimacy, or nudity of the two of them. Just the two of them standing on a pier, or in front of a tank of jellyfish at the aquarium.

He couldn't bring himself to snoop through their texts. but as he stared at the screen looking at their most recent message -- Luke had sent "😊❤️" and nothing else -- he wondered again about how Luke was doing. Was he alone? Just as heartbroken? Or was he waiting for Han to follow him? Would Han follow him? Han's keys were out by the front door. He could easily leave and go to Luke if he wanted.

Din stood up quickly and cracked the bedroom door. He peered into the living room, and saw Han sitting on the couch, his head towards the TV, watching Breaking Bad with the volume turned low. Din closed the door before Han could turn around and spot him.

He let out a deep breath. He remembered what Han had said to him a few hours ago: "not you, never you." There was an easy pride in that for Din, to know his husband wouldn't choose the younger, prettier man over him, even though he easily could.

Maybe it was that assuredness that compelled him to unlock Han's phone again, and give Luke a call.

~

"It's Han," Luke said simply, looking at his phone as it vibrated on the table. They had a good buzz going, the both of them, and Leia had responded to Luke's recollection of events with her characteristic righteous indignation.

"Don't answer!" Leia said.

"Maybe I should. Maybe he's calling to end things officially. I might get closure," Luke countered.

"If that piece of shit is gonna break up with you over the phone after all of this --!"

"Alright! I won't answer --!"

"Let me answer it!" Leia said, reaching for the phone.

"Fine!" Luke said.

~

Din was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, hoping the bathroom door would put an additional layer of soundproofing between him and the living room so that Han might not overhear. He'd always hated being overheard while on the phone in any circumstance, and it made him cringe whenever Han answered a call in public. And anyway, if Han could have Luke-secrets, so could he.

A very angry woman answered the phone.

"Listen you dick. I'm sure you called to try and smooth things over however you think you can, but he doesn't want to talk to you. For your own sake, you should probably leave him alone."

Din had considered calling from his own phone, but he anticipate Luke thinking it was spam and ignoring it. Calling from Han's phone had been a risky choice, he knew, but this he didn't expect.

"Uh, sorry," was all Din said.

"I bet you are!"

"I'm not Han, I'm the husband. Din. Is Luke there?"

There was silence on the other line. He imagined the woman and Luke silently trying to communicate, mouthing words or whispering to each other.

"Look, this wasn't Luke's fault and he feels bad enough as it is, so if you just called to yell at him, I suggest you hang up."

"I didn't call to yell at him," Din said. "I wanted to see if he was okay."

"... Why?"

Din shrugged, although the woman couldn't hear it. "I didn't know if he had anyone to talk to. We were both hurt today. It was my husband's fault. Just thought I'd check in."

"And where is this husband? Why didn't he call?"

"He left his phone in the bedroom. I locked him out."

"Of the house?!" He couldn't tell if she was worried or impressed.

"Of the bedroom. He's on the couch."

"Oh. Luke is desperately reaching for the phone, so I'm going to let you talk to him."

"Okay, thanks," Din said.

~

Luke took the phone and the joint from Leia. He opened his bedroom window, sat on his bed, and lit up the joint as he started his second conversation with his boyfriend's husband.

"Hello?" Luke asked. What would they even talk about? He'd had his ear close to the phone as Leia talked to him. Did he really care about how he was doing? Had Han really managed to find a guy that nice and then still screw him over?

"Luke?"

"Yeah."

They were silent again.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Luke said, "that wasn't how I wanted to meet you."

"I figured," Din said. "How are you feeling?"

"Embarassed," Luke said, "a little sad. Kind of confused about why you'd call."

"I wanted to see if you were okay. Han left his phone in the room, so he couldn't reach out to you. I thought one of us should." Well, he thought, that was nice of him. "I didn't kick him out if you were wondering. Just making him sleep on the couch tonight."

"That's good. I never wanted to come between the two of you," Luke promised.

"You haven't. None of this is your fault," Din said. Luke teared up again, and he took another hit, hoping it would cover any wavering in his voice.

"I don't understand why he'd lie to you," Luke said.

"I don't think he expected to be with you for so long." There was a bluntness to Din's tone that rattled Luke; he couldn't tell if he was being insulted. "Sorry ..." Din tried to smooth his words over. "I meant, I think he thought it would be a fling. No need to worry me about him risking his career with an undergrad --"

"I'm twenty-seven!" Luke blurted quickly. "An undergrad, yeah, but I'm not, like, nineteen."

"I know, Han told me. But still. And then I think it went on for so long, he never figured out how to tell me."

"You were going to find out eventually," Luke said.

"Maybe," Din said. The words landed heavy in Luke's chest. Maybe Din would have found out. But Luke's relationship with Han was meant to be fleeting. It occurred to Luke, and not for the first time, that Din didn't have a boyfriend or two coming to the house. There were few boyfriends in Han's stories even, mostly hook ups, friends with benefits ... you haven't come between them, Luke thought, you were never enough of a threat for that.

Luke was starting to feel threatened by the phone call. Whatever Din had proclaimed his intentions to be, it seemed obvious to Luke that the real motive behind the call was to ensure Luke understood he was temporary in Han's life where Din was not. Even if this event was not his fault, it was his one-way ticket out of love with Han.

There were tears on his cheeks again, and his weak right hand, the muscles tight with scar tissue, shook as it brought the joint to his mouth again.

"Yeah," he said. as he took a drag. "I should go," he breathed out with the smoke. His head was starting to get lighter, the chronic nerve pain in his hand starting to dull, the world starting to blur.

"Wait!" Din said as Luke reached for the end call button. "I'd still like to meet you."

Luke almost laughed. "Why?"

There was a pause and Luke imagined Din was thinking of all the ways he could kill Luke and get away with it.

"I think Han really loves you," Din said.

Luke sobbed before pulling himself together. "Well, he's never said that to me."

"Still true. And I still think this whole relationship is dangerous, but it means something to Han."

"So you want to meet me to ... what? Find a way for us to stay together? Or to find a way for Han to end things nicely?"

"I guess that's between you and Han, I'd just like to ... know you a little more. If you might stay in his life I ... don't want you to feel like a secret. Not to me, at least."

Luke thought over the offer. He didn't know what to expect from Din. But he did love Han, even if he'd never said so much to him. It might be worth the meeting. Somewhere crowded and public so Din couldn't kill him.

"There's a coffee shop a good ways away from campus that I like," Luke said. "I can send you the address if you send me your number."

"Sure," Din said. "I'll send it when we hang up."

"Are you okay?" Luke finally asked.

"No," his voice was strained, "but I will be."

Din hung up suddenly, catching Luke off-guard.

He walked back into the living room where his sister was still watching The Devil Wears Prada and sipping on a remarkably strong margarita.

"How did that go?" She asked.

"I don't know," Luke answered honestly. "He's either the nicest guy in the world, or I'm about to be killed."

~

Din stepped out of the bedroom with intention now. Han heard the door open this time and spun around to look at him.

"You're still sleeping out here tonight," Din told him. "But here's your phone. I called Luke. He's doing okay. I don't know if he'd want to hear from you."

Han's eyes were wide. "You called him?"

"I wanted to make sure he was okay," Din answered.

Han looked confused, but he still took the phone. "I'm sorry," Han offered again.