#dirtydolly

In the red haze, Paz didn’t even know where Din was. He had a Devaronian under each arm, knocking their heads together and when he chanced a glance up, his cyar’ika stood at the entrance of the bar, arms crossed, helmet tilted at him in that cute little way, and hip cocked as he leaned against the door frame. Paz was distracted enough that a wooden chair came crashing over his back.

The cocking sound of a loaded pulse rifle had everyone ducking for cover.

The entire bar went silent. By the time Paz looked up, everyone was cowering behind what was left of booths and chairs. Din had his blaster trained steadily on the patron who was now shaking at the knees behind Paz, raising his hands for mercy. Paz raised himself slowly, dusting himself off and making a point to shove aside that handsy Twi’lek on the floor with his boot as he passed him. He was out the door, Din turned on his heel and followed him.

Paz’ blood was boiling still. Had he hackles, they’d be raised beneath his armor. His blood soaked gloves were clenched at his sides, his shoulders tight, and his breathing was just coming back from its ragged state. He could vaguely hear Din following behind him, but he didn’t have the courage to look back. A bar room brawl he could handle, having to make visor to visor contact with his partner at the moment.. That was a little more than terrifying.

And here they were.

Back on the Razor Crest, Paz had quickly made off to the fresher. He removed his vambraces and shed his bloodied gloves, throwing them under the tap and tossing in some detergent to wash them. He could hear Din’s soft footsteps approaching and Paz tried not to grumble out his frustrations in his presence. The younger Mandalorian paused at the doorway, his rasped, gentle voice making Paz tense. “You know better,” Din merely hummed, letting his head rest against the edge of the door frame. Paz chanced a look over his shoulder before hunching into himself again and scrubbing a little harder until the blue tint in the water faded down the drain.

“How often would that happen?” Paz grunted back, his brows furrowing beneath his helmet. He honestly didn’t want to know the extent at which Din was flirted with during his travels alone, but the question burned at the back of his mind. “Often enough,” Din answered nonchalantly and Paz whipped around to look at him, his ebbing fury coming back with a vengeance, but Din didn’t seem to pay any mind. “No being in this universe has any right to speak to you like that,” the heavy gunner all but growled, shutting off the faucet and leaving his gloves on the edge to dry after he wrung them out.

“Not even you?”

The question hung in the air and Paz breathed out a heavy sigh. As he dried his wet hands, he could feel Din press up behind him, his arms coming to wrap around Paz’ front, deft fingers tracing the hard lines of his armor and pressing their way between gaps to reach his soft spots. “N-No,” Paz cursed his stutter, “No, not even me.” Din chuckled lightly behind him and Paz could feel his entire body unwind, hanging his head and bringing his bare hands up to hold over Din’s roaming ones.

“They’re usually talking about the armor.”

“You sure about that?” Paz hissed, but attempted to cool his anger again, grumbling as he turned around and leaned down to bump his forehelm firmly to Din’s. “He certainly was talking about this tiny little waist of yours.” His large hands cupped almost entirely around the circumference of Din’s waist as if to prove a point. “Covered head to toe and still can’t catch a break, can you?” he huffed, but he was delighted to hear the rare little snicker from under Din’s helmet, a crooked smile quirking his lips beneath his own.

“I suppose not.”

Paz went quiet at that, resting the cheek of his helmet to the top of Din’s, holding him close as they swayed slowly in the middle of their fresher as if they hadn’t just come from a bar fight. “You were quite merciful, cyare,” Din hummed. Paz pulled back to look at him with a tilt of his head, but Din simply rested his helm to Paz’ chest and continued. “I’d have broken his arm in three places, crushed all his fingers and then shattered his nose.”

Paz had never a doubt in his mind of his feelings for Din before, but in that moment, he’s never felt so in love.

He was quite embarrassed at how every nerve ending in his body lit up in pure adoration. He let Din guide him back, his shoulders bumping the far wall of the fresher. He swallowed hard when those gentle hands began to roam again, stroking over his sides, up his arms and to the sides of his neck. Paz didn’t mean to shudder so hard when gloved fingers tugged down the high collar of his black shirt, the worn material at Din’s thumbs brushing the thick cords of his neck while the rest of those careful digits kneaded firmly at his nape.

“U-Umm-” again with the stuttering, “Had I known me being possessive was a kink of yours, I would have publicly defended your honor a lot sooner..” Another of those raspy chuckles made Paz’ thighs lock involuntarily. “While I appreciate you letting me fight my own battles, it’s nice to watch you flex your muscles once in a while without fearing for your life.” It was Paz’ turn to chuckle, finding his confidence again as his big hands shifted under Din’s cloak to cup firmly at his ass, nestling a thick thigh between the younger’s legs. He certainly was not expecting this tonight.

“There you go exposing your fetish for me tossing my weight around.”

That earned him a thumb jabbed firmly into a pressure point in his neck. Paz’ knees immediately buckled, his bracers numbing the hard drop to the floor, but he paid absolutely no mind to that. Even kneeling, Paz still reached just below Din’s chest. The overhead lighting cast a shadow over the both of them and Paz will never witness anything else so beautiful than his cyare. A rumbling purr erupted from him when those careful fingers cupped under his chin, feeling along the sharp line of his jaw beneath his helmet and scratching gently at his scruff.

“The longer I’m with you, the more fetishes I seem to develop,” Din joked and Paz knew the man was actually allowing himself to indulge in his pleasures tonight. It was a sight to see this feared Mandalorian so unusually playful, it was something Paz took for granted when they were younger. To witness it now was absolutely ethereal and he had no qualms in encouraging that behavior. The heavy gunner licked his smirking lips, his hand traveling up Din’s leg and kneading his thumbs at the juncture of his thigh.

“I can see that,” he cooed, deliberately avoiding the hardness tenting his partner’s pants and making his hips squirm. Paz nuzzled his helm to Din’s chest, the younger’s hands returning to his shoulders where he dug his fingers into his muscles tightly. “Sweet little boy,” he purred, immediately feeling a twitch against his fingers, “My sweet little boy. Mine.. No one else’s..” He felt Din’s full body shudder through his palms, the way his hips tensed and his legs spread.

“That’s what you want to hear?” he asked quietly, looking up to catch Din nod his head hard. Paz chuckled, dipping his head down and nuzzling the cheekplating of his helm to Din’s straining bulge. The younger man gasped, his hands tightening into the material of Paz’ shirt he could reach. “Use your words, Din’ika,” Paz sighed, his hands shifting to cup Din’s backside, pulling him close and letting him rut himself against the cool metal of his helm.

“Y-Yes..” he sounded positively breathless and Paz groaned roughly.

“I don’t own you..” he hummed, “I never will.” Din’s heartbroken little whimper made his heart clench momentarily, but he squeezed his hands around him and nestled back up to look at him, visor to visor, piercing and unyielding. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t try..” The hunter above him gasped, his arms shifting to brace himself against the wall, watching Paz lean back so he could see those thick, bare fingers, bruised knuckles brush against the tented fabric of his pants and pull him out, precum coating his palm as he coiled around it, pumping his cock at a maddeningly leisure pace.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t spend the rest of my days marking your skin with my teeth,” Paz growled, his free hand massaging tenderly at Din’s trembling thighs. “Doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop dreaming of the day we’re bonded. Thinking of being the only one in the universe who has the honor of seeing your face.” Paz chuckled when he heard Din’s helm thump against the wall, twisting his fist around his cyare’s cock, thumb circling his slit and purring as he watched him fuck into the grip.

“No one else..” Paz snarled, dark blue eyes dazed with lust beneath his visor. “No one else gets to see you writhe in pleasure, make you feel the way I do. No one should ever talk to you the way I do, but only I can because you allow me to. You want me to praise you. You want me to tell you all the things I could do with you because you’re mine and I belong to you, too.”

“Paz-” Din’s voice brought him out of his haze, looking up and wishing he could see how sweet that expression must look across his cyar’ika’s face, how desperate. He traced the veins along his length, squeezing as he dropped down to the base, keeping the hunter’s hips still with his other hand. “Close your eyes,” Paz ordered softly, not even sure he said it until Din piped out a confused little sound. Paz swallowed hard.

“Close your eyes and don’t look down, cyar’ika.”

Din didn’t question. His visor was immediately buried in his forearms which were rested against the wall. Paz trusted him with his life, this wasn’t any different. He tilted his helmet up. “Give me one of your hands,” he ordered once more, physically seeing the way Din’s body tensed at the sound of his voice free from his modulator. He grasped Din’s hand, bringing it to the blocky audial of his helmet to hold it up so the bottom edge rested hard at the bridge of his nose, but he couldn’t find the mind to care.

“Keep it in place, baby, don’t let it go.”

The garbled whine of affirmative from Din made Paz throb behind his codpiece, groaning lowly. “That’s a good boy, Din,” he cooed, smirking as he pressed a blind kiss to the tip of his cock. Din nearly crumbled above him just at that. Paz dragged his tongue across the side of his shaft, sucking kisses to the velvety skin while his tongue explored, occasionally drawing back to mumble, love drunk against him. “You’re so good. My perfect little soldier.” Another wet kiss to his tip, slick dripping against his lips, delicious moans making his ears hot.

“You’re all I could ever want,” he whispered. “I’m gonna take care of you, sweetheart. Don’t hold back.” A broken cry was wrought from Din as Paz swallowed him entirely. His cock hit the back of his throat and Paz could feel Din’s hand scrambling at his helmet to keep it in place as ordered. He hummed lowly, bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks in slow sucks at every pull back. Din didn’t let the pace stay slow for very long.

Paz could feel the strain in his hips, he wanted to buck and Paz could only encourage him, both of his hands going up and squeezing tightly at his ass to tug him forward. The raw sound from Din had Paz’ hips bucking involuntarily. The younger fucked desperately into Paz’ mouth, thick and throbbing on his tongue. “Paz- Cyare-” he called weakly and Paz’ purr had him whining, muffled in the bend of his arm where his visor was diligently kept. “‘M gonna cum.. F-Fuck, Paz, please- W-Wait- Please, please” he choked and Paz encouraged him with a firm suck. “Want you to see me- Want you to watch me.. I-I’m yours, I’m yours-”

That nearly set Paz off.

He groaned roughly as he pulled back, licking his lips before shoving his helmet back down, both arms curling around Din’s legs and taking them out from under him. Din didn’t complain as he was laid back against the hard floor, partially in Paz’ lap as the heavy gunner sat up and loomed over him, Din’s legs spread to either side of his chest. “You’re so fucking pretty,” he crooned, voice worn, hand coming down to finish what he started.

“Tell me I’m yours-” An order.

Paz smirked, knocking their forehelms together and staring deeply into that dark visor as he pumped at Din’s drenched cock. “You’re mine, Din. You’re mine, you’ll be my riduur. We’ll be bonded and I’ll fuck you properly, cyar’ika. F-Fuck, baby- Spread you open on my cock and make you mine.” Paz shuddered when Din’s hands shot out to reach for him, his hips writhing in Paz’ hands. The larger man indulged him, shoving aside his codpiece and hastily undoing his zipper to pull his cock from the confines of his pants.

Din lifted his upper body off the hard floor, one hand clutching Paz’ armored shoulder for leverage and the other curling, tight fisted around Paz’ cock. The larger man groaned, thumping their helms again and just trying to breathe. It was just like before, the time in the forest those few weeks after reuniting, but this was so much more intense. His head spun, blue eyes going dazed again under his visor when that pretty voice made itself known, his free hand cupping the back of his lover’s head to keep him steady.

“I want you to cum inside me. Wanna be marked up.. Claimed.. Fucked full and bred.. Want you to own me.” Paz stroked his thumb tenderly at the crown of Din’s helm, wishing instead that his fingers were gently carded through his soft, dark hair. “You’re not makin’ it any easier to wait when you’re talkin’ like that, beautiful...” A soft whimper, a sharp throb through his cock as he was eagerly pumped.

“I can’t wait much longer, cyare..”

Paz’ heart ached, but he pressed forward. “I know, cyar’ika, I know,” he cooed comfortingly, “But it will be worth it.” He eased Din back again, getting his own legs out from under him and watching how Din arched his hips up to keep him close, their cocks grinding together as Paz rocked them with slow, but firm thrusts. “It’ll be worth getting to see your pretty face, see you all flushed for me, begging for my cock.. Begging me to fill you with my cum and breed you deep, sweet boy...”

Din was broken below him, crying out in pleasure, throwing both of his arms over Paz’ shoulders, curling him close as Paz took both their slick cocks into his large fist. “That’s what you want, Din?” he panted, thrusting his hips roughly to stimulate the primal sensation they both craved. “Y-Yes-! Fuck me- Paz, cyare- Mine-” he cried, desperate and wanting and Paz let him have his release. Din’s head fell back with a high whine, his body convulsing, hips snapping into Paz’ fist as he came hard, spilling over his armored chest and tummy.

Paz could only hold out for so long, the sight beneath him so incredibly raw and beautiful it sent him over with a pleasured roar only a few seconds after. His heavy cock throbbed, thick ropes of cum painted across Din’s body, claiming him, marking him just like he wanted. Paz doubled over when he went light-headed, bracing himself on his forearms over Din who hugged him tightly to his chest, his lean legs stretching over Paz’ hips to rest comfortably. Through his attempt to catch his breath, Paz brought a hand up, tugging down Din’s own high neck and turning his cyare’s helm away.

He lifted his own again slightly, enough to sink his teeth into Din’s fluttering pulsepoint, groaning as Din’s languid writhing made their oversensitive cocks brush together. “Kiss me,” he heard rasped above him and he waited only a moment for Din to comfortably shift his helmet up. They learned to maneuver in a careful dance, their lips pressing, eyes blind behind thick beskar in such an intimate moment. It made Paz’ heart beat a little faster each time.

“I waited a decade for you before, I can wait a little longer, cyare..” Din whispered against Paz’ lips, voice wavering and broken, but oh so genuine. The older man kissed him firmly once more, dipping his bare fingers beneath Din’s helm to thread his fingers carefully into the soft locks at his nape. When their helmets came back down simultaneously, Paz immediately pressed them together, gathering Din in his arms and lifting him off the floor to clean him up for bed, humming quietly against his audial.

“I’d wait an eternity for you, ner cyar’ika.”

The common room of their covert was rarely empty. Sometimes it was filled with foundlings running about. The elders met here sometimes after their meetings. Rowdy soldiers were the usual patrons when freshly brewed tihaar had been prepared in kegs.

But it was late in the night. Quiet conversations were held between those who sat in their usual booths and tables, others at the bar, some even taking to the floor with boards of cu’bikad between them. The quiet atmosphere was a luxury Paz didn’t often find himself appreciating enough. His cousins had guard duty that would stretch long into the night, so Paz found himself alone, sipping his tihaar through the metal straw beneath his helmet.

He wouldn’t be alone for much longer.

Din had arrived home from a short mission with his father earlier that night. Paz had watched him carefully from his quiet corner booth. He’d catch the gaze of Din’s visor every so often, the young hunter tilting his head in that coy little way that only Paz would dare interpret as flirty. He had stayed by the bar with his father, perched upon the stools and Paz was all too content to simply watch him from afar.

Unfortunately, he realized others felt the same sentiment. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t tune the audio in his helmet up a bit. The three boys in the booth beside him were around Din’s age, they were raised with the lot of them, however Paz doubted they were taught any manners. But he listened, attempting to loosen the white knuckled grip he had on his mug before he crushed it in his hand.

“Still a small little runt, ain’t he,” one commented.

“Can still kick your ass, Thahl, he has kicked your ass. Tossed you over his shoulder, didn’t he?”

Paz smirked wryly at that, taking another sip of his ale. “I’d like a fuckin’ rematch,” the man huffed, swinging his pint in Din’s direction. “Like to get him on his back. Mount him and show him who’s boss.” That one nearly had Paz choking on his ale, but he stopped himself from tossing his table and launching himself at the guy. He tried to keep his composure, but his jaw still clenched tight beneath his helmet.

“Cute little thing,” one of the others mumbled, taking a sip and leaning further back into the booth. They all seemed more than a bit buzzed. “Still buffs and shines his armor in the barracks. Looks real tiny without it. I’d love to toss him around some,” he hummed lowly and the others growled darkly in agreement. “His buir would fuckin’ murder us if we came anywhere near him,” the one named Thaal grumbled and the others nodded. 

“A man can fantasize, but I can see he got his old man’s sharpshooting skills. Runt’s as oblivious as a rock to any shit we say, but we come near him, we’d all end up dead even without his buir.” They all took another few sips of their alcohol when they watched across the bar as Din and his father rose from their seats. A full pint of alcohol to settle the nerves and Din’s father was ready to retire to his quarters for much needed rest. Din followed to see him off, but Paz knew he’d be back.

“Maker, lookit those fuckin’ hips,” one of the men hissed and Paz could practically feel his hackles rise, his lip raw under his visor from where he’d been biting. “Way he fuckin’ walks.. Would love to have that in my lap any time.” A bit of rustling had Paz turning his head towards the group’s direction for just a moment. Thahl had an arm wrapped around the shoulders of the one who had just spoke, rubbing his knuckles into his helm.

“Got a little crush, or what Naav?”

This Naav looked to be the eldest of the trio, shoving the other back and throwing a look at the last of the three who was snickering. “Utreekov,” he snarled, “Fuck no, everyone’s got their eye on him. Imagine the fuckin’ bragging rights.” He took another long sip of his ale. “Guy who gets their hands on him is gonna be fuckin’ lucky and hopefully would spill some details when he’s done with him.” They all clinked their pints together with resounding grunts of agreement.

It was then that Din came through the entrance of the room again. Paz was already losing his damned mind steaming like this in the corner. He hadn’t touched his ale since the boys started yapping, his fists were tight and shaking on the table, he had only just been able to regulate his breathing. He watched as Din made his way back to the bar, taking a couple mugs from their bartender and turning right around, walking towards Paz’ booth.

Paz could hear the boys in the booth beside him physically tense up, their armor shifting on their bodies and Paz didn’t have to look to see them trying to awkwardly compose themselves. He already knew they were watching the young hunter and Paz tried to relax himself. He stretched his arm over the back of his seat, shifting as Din automatically made to sidle right up to his side. Paz arm fell around his slim shoulders and the heavy infantry’s visor tilted in the direction of the boys in the booth over.

They all just stared from over the wooden barrier separating the booths. Paz knew they were blanched and sweating under their helmets. They were pinned down by Paz’ gaze alone, the large man uttering not one word, just staring and it seemed they took the hint. Din beside him hopped a little when the neighboring booth was suddenly evacuated. They both watched all three boys trip over themselves in their tipsy state, causing quite the ruckus in the otherwise quiet bar as they booked it towards the exit with not even a glance back.

Din watched for a moment longer, only turning back when Paz’ hand cupped the back of his helmet and pulled him close enough to rest their forehelms together. The younger immediately melted at the contact, nuzzling forward in that sugar sweet little way Paz had come to adore. “Tell me about your hunt,” he purred, his hand shifting down to the back of Din’s neck, kneading the muscle along his nape and sighing contently. The fury that had made his bloody boil moments earlier slowly ebbing away into relaxation.

He didn’t tell Din about the conversation he’d overheard. 

Paz knew, those boys knew exactly how capable Din was at protecting himself. It didn’t stop Paz from nestling Din up against the wall in a dark, empty corridor of their covert. It didn’t stop his hands from roaming, palming between Din’s thighs and shifting his own helm up just slightly, tugging down the high neck of Din’s shirt and sucking a mark into his soft skin. His name on Din’s lips made his earlier annoyances entirely worthwhile, stroked his ego a little more than he’d like to admit. 

The halls were completely desolate of life by the time Paz had walked Din back to his quarter’s, well past midnight. Paz hoped Din’s father wouldn’t be suspicious. Din turned to him before going inside, bringing his arms up to rest over Paz’ shoulders. Paz pulled him flush to his body, letting their helms rest once more as Din spoke quietly. “What was that all about?” he queried in a whisper, swaying with the light motions as Paz rocked him slowly side to side.

The older man simply shrugged his shoulders, squeezing his hands tenderly around Din’s trim waist and nuzzling him gently. “Missed you is all,” he hummed, curling his arms around Din to squeeze him in a hug, whispering to him wishes of sweet dreams before letting him go. The walk back to his own quarters was short. Paz was only grateful that tomorrow would be another grappling training day among their group where he could get his frustrations out.

He couldn’t wait to pound some dents into a certain few clanmate’s helmets.