Chapter Text
“Hey,” Boba mumbled, his voice raspy with sleep,” I think your comm’s chirping.”
The blankets thrown across Boba’s chest shifted as Din curled closer, grumbling something annoyed against the hollow of his throat. Boba ran a hand down his boyfriend’s back, and sighed. “Cyar’ika, your comm— stop wiggling like that, you’re getting your hair in my mouth— your comm’s still buzzing.”
Din grumbled something again, pulling his legs up higher so he could knock his feet against Boba’s shins, and kriff why were his toes always so karking cold?
“I still don’t know what you’re saying,” Boba complained into the empty air of their ship's dark bedroom.
“ Ka’ra,” the other man hissed, finally tearing his head up from the pillow he had made of Boba’s scarred collarbones. “I said that they’ll call twice if it’s important. We’ve been up for thirty-six hours straight hours,” and oh, Boba could practically feel him glaring, “And we ran out of stims at hour twenty-five. We’re sleeping now.”
Boba wrinkled his nose. Ugh. Morning breath in the middle of the night. “You always forget to turn your comm off before we go to bed,” he complained again.
“Then you get up and turn it off,” Din said, settling back down onto Boba’s chest.
Boba pulled the blankets over them again with a sigh. “I can’t. You’re lying on top of me.”
“What a shame,” Din hummed, already halfway back to sleep. The comm stopped buzzing.
Guess it’s waiting ‘til morning then, Boba thought wryly before tucking his chin over the mess that was Din’s helmet hair, and closed his eyes.
***
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Boba sighed as he inspected their fridge, trying to decide what he needed for their first meal.
Din glowered behind him. Boba glanced back at him. He looked so much smaller than usual, standing in the cramped gallery of their ship with no armor and no dark saber attached to his hip, his sleep clothes as rumpled as the dissatisfied look sitting upon his face. Only Boba and the kid were trusted with that face, with those worry lines and chapped lips and stubby eyelashes. The thought made something disgustingly warm and yellow break open in Boba’s chest.
Eggs, he thought, turning back around. I’ll make eggs for first meal.
“I hate missing comms from Luke.”
“He knew we were coming back from a long bounty, and would be exhausted,” Boba said, grabbing what he needed from the fridge before pulling a pan out from the drawer under the stove. Jango had insisted on keeping a functioning little kitchenette on his ship, adamant that his young son was going to eat more than just ration bars during their trips. Boba had never seen any reason to get rid of it, even if he hadn’t used it much before Din and the kid started hanging around.
“Skywalker was probably just leaving a message. Nothing important, otherwise he would have commed twice, remember?”
“Right, yeah,” Din said. Boba heard him scratch at the stubble on his face, probably rubbing a hand across his mouth. “Still. I hate missing his calls, even when he does leave a message.”
“The kid’s fine,” Boba said, flicking on the stove top.
“I know.”
“So everything’s okay.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
Boba let a familiar, comfortable quiet sit between them as he began to fry their breakfast, taking a moment to run a finger across the neat little row of jars full of cooking spices that he kept secured in a drawer. It was nothing compared to the collection he kept on Tatooine, but it would do. It was another nod to his buir, who always kept the drawer well stocked when he was a child. After all, it was impossible to make their favorite foods without a good bit of heat.
Boba let the memories wash over him, all the times he had snuck aboard this ship to follow Jango on his bounties. He had thought he was so bold then, so brave, so clever, hiding himself in the cabinets or the vents before lift off. He loved popping out of his hiding place as soon as they hit hyperspace, surprising his buir with a tackle and a shout. Jango always played along, teasing and sparing with him until he decided the game was over. Then he would lift Boba up, spin him around in a circle, and smack a kiss on his forehead before shepherding him off towards his room and the education modules he’d left on his bunk for Boba to work on. He’d always cook something warm for Boba before leaving him on the ship during the more dangerous hunts.
He didn’t always let Boba sneak on. Not if Jango thought Boba couldn’t handle it. Except for—
Boba shook his head, pulling himself back into the present. No need to linger on old memories, not unless he wanted to explain them to Din. His lover was already so patient with him, never pushing for the details of his stories. For someone who’s trauma had long since been the stuff of public knowledge and legend, Boba appreciated the discretion. He wasn’t ready to break that over first meal.
Either way, their eggs needed a kick to them, something to really wake the two of them up. Boba popped the top off a jar, and let the warm, familiar scent settle any unease he had carried with him into the morning.
“So what did Skywalker want?” Boba asked casually as he moved towards a cramped little table they kept bolted to the floor. He passed a plate to his boyfriend as they began to settle across from each other.
Din was suspiciously quiet as he accepted the finished food, tapping his fork against the side of his plate. Boba narrowed his eyes. Din was a quiet man by nature, but he didn’t usually ignore Boba’s questions.
“Din?”
“Luke invited me to a, uh,” Din paused to think, tapping his fork against the table as he searched for the best words and gave up. “I think he called it a family day.”
“A family day? What, like he’s inviting all his students' parents to drop by and say hello?”
“Er, no.” Din took a quick bite of his food, chewing to avoid talking. That was fine. Boba could wait. His patience was excellent, thank you very much. He didn’t get to be the best bounty hunter in the galaxy by rushing into things.
Still, Din’s avoidance was making his brow twitch. It didn’t matter if there wasn’t any hair left there anymore. It still twitched.
“I uh, I think he just means,” Din began, and osik, Boba thought, were Din’s cheeks going red? “I think he just means his family. He said his sister and her husband would be there too.”
His family. “Oh?” Boba said in a strangled voice. “And he invited you too?”
Kriff, Din’s cheeks really were red now! “Yeah. We’re co-parenting Grogu.” Din looked away, picking at his eggs again. “We kind of have to co-parent since there’s a chance Grogu’s going to have to stay with him in the crèche for the rest of our lives,” Din said with a forced shrug. “We have no idea how slowly he ages, and neither of us are about to abandon him, so here we are.”
Boba knew all of this, of course. He wasn’t exactly happy about it, and had said as much many times, but it was an old argument at this point. Skywalker would never hurt the child, and was, unfortunately, the only teacher who could help Grogu with his force osik. So Boba wasn’t allowed to kill him for the sarlacc pit. Han Solo, however, Boba would shoot on sight. That man had better hope Boba was never in the same star system as him.
“Still. Family day.” Boba’s voice still had an odd tone to it.
Din looked up at him, finally making eye contact over their food. Din’s eyes softened even as he worried his bottom lip. “Yeah, family day. We’re always going to be more involved with him than most of his other students’ parents, so he wants me to meet his family.”
“We’re?” Boba said in a very manly manner, absolutely not squeaking at all. “What do you mean we’re ?”
“As in us?” Din said, confused.
“Us?”
Din sighed, taking a bite of his eggs and glancing up at the ceiling in annoyance. “Now you’re just repeating everything I say.”
“Well everything you’re saying is kind of confusing, so I think I have a right to be confused about it,” Boba said, stabbing his eggs with a huff.
Din tilted his head, his gestures still exaggerated as if he were still in his armor. “What’s confusing?”
Boba made a complicated hand gesture with his empty fork. “Us? You including me as a buir to your child?”
“Boba. Your ship—”
“Our ship,” Boba immediately corrected.
Din’s mouth upturned into an exasperated little half-smile. “Ok. Our ship.” Boba nodded, sharp and embarrassed.
“Well,” Din started again, “Our ship, which was originally your ship before Grogu and I started staying with you, always has Grogu’s favorite foods on board even when I don’t restock them, a chest full of toys that I definitely didn’t buy for him, a baby seat someone put in the cockpit—”
“I didn’t like the way he lurched forward whenever we entered light speed!” Boba interjected. “The adult seat belt doesn’t fit him well.”
“Of course,” Din nodded very seriously. “You also taped several pictures of the three of us and Fennec above his bed, another thing that I did not add to the ship.”
“I didn’t want him to be lonely at night,” Boba said archly.
“Right. You also gave him one of the best bedrooms in Jabba’s palace, and you keep it empty when he’s not there.”
“He’s a growing boy, Djarin, he’s going to need all that space someday.” Osik, even Boba didn’t believe that one. Kriff.
“And you almost always invite me and the kid to stay with you whenever Luke sends him back with me for family time.”
“That’s because I love you and want to spend time with you.” Great, now Boba’s cheeks were burning. He hoped Din couldn’t see his flush under all the scarring.
From the way the other man’s lips were twitching, Boba wasn’t so lucky. Double kriff. “I love you too, cyare, but you are definitely his third buir at this point.”
“So does that mean we’re hyphenating the kid’s last name?” Boba tried to joke desperately.
Din looked unfortunately thoughtful. “If you want.”
And oh, ka’ra, Boba could not handle this realization this early in the day. “We should probably exchange armor before we start exchanging names.”
Din looked as surprised as Boba felt. Triple kriff, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, not yet, not this soon. He had a plan for this! Fennec was going to kill him when she found out he got engaged without following the incredibly detailed plan she had so loyally helped him craft. It involved a new coat of paint for his vambraces, an extremely impressive fight Boba was going to win in front of his lover, a five star late meal, and then a five star hotel room. But no, now he had just blown it and accidentally proposed to Din in his sleep clothes over their cooling, slightly soggy eggs.
“Yeah,” Din said, dazed. “Maybe we should exchange armor.”
Boba groaned, throwing his head into his hands. “This isn’t how I meant to ask you,” he said, voice muffled against his palms.
“Hey,” Din said, sliding forward in his seat to press his ankle against Boba’s. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Boba groaned, his palms still sitting squarely over his face. “Please never tell anyone this is how I asked.”
Din drew his foot back to push himself off his bench only to immediately slide next to his fiancé. He wrapped an arm roughly around Boba’s shoulder, and knocked his cheek roughly against the side of Boba’s head. “Think of it this way, my riduur: now you get to come with me to see Grogu at Luke’s place for family day.”
It was all Boba could do not to drop his head against the table in despair.