Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Din should have known something was different the moment he let his guard down near the Jetii.

It had felt good; that should’ve been enough of a sign. The Jetii had kindly offered Din his own space after Din had returned from Tatooine with Grogu in tow, providing him with a hut in the small school he was building, after profusely apologizing for abruptly dropping Grogu off in the middle of a fight. 

The Jetii had explained that it was the safer option in that moment, that Imperial remnants had followed him, and that he had led them away from Grogu after placing him in his ship along with his astromech droid and setting the coordinates to Din’s comlink. The Jetii had balked when Din had told him that Grogu had found him, no astromech in sight. Then the Jetii had to explain how he even had Din’s personal, private comlink code.

The Jetii apparently enjoyed knowing the ins and outs of any piece of tech he could get his hands on and had developed his own gadget to hack into comlinks.

For fun. 

The Jetii was almost the exact opposite of the powerhouse Din had encountered on the Moff’s ship. Gone was the cloaked figure that destroyed an army of Dark Troopers, blowing Din’s attempt at dismantling them obsolete; in his place was a ruffled farm boy. Where the Jetii was calm, collected, and put together, Luke was restless, jittery, and all over the place. 

His clothes were all unmatched shades of grey, black, and stained whites. Clearly, the man had grabbed each piece blindly when he woke in the mornings.

Din had been distracted by the Jetii’s messy blond hair, each strand sticking up in different directions like someone had pulled it every which way, and it had been. Din had witnessed the Jetii thread his fingers through it several times during one conversation. Din’s HUD was very unhelpful, locking on the movement each time, catching Din’s attention when he should have been listening.

The Jetii spoke rapidly, like each word just had to be set free from his mind.

If Din didn't know any better, he would assume the Jetii had an identical twin, one of them dealing with their jetii business and the other doing…whatever he was doing now, maintaining the grounds? But Grogu had hopped excitedly towards the man, launching his little body in the air, caught mid-air by the Jetii’s magic. 

It was definitely the same man. Din trusted Grogu’s instincts.

Maybe Din shouldn't trust his baby’s instincts fully.

Because that’s how he’s found himself without his buy'ce, breathing in the most delicious scent while preparing for what was supposed to be his first no-armor shower in several rotations, his head spins as he takes in another lungful of what he thinks is cinnamon, and he feels insane.

Nothing in this fresher is cinnamon scented.

He knows this because he’s just spent twenty minutes smelling every bottle he could find in the small hut. The shampoo and conditioner smell like wet grass, the body wash smells like damp stone, the hand soap smells like flowers, and the many bottles in the cabinet under the sink smell like a combination of everything else he’s smelled. 

Nothing smells like the mouthwatering cinnamon.

It’s faint, but everywhere. 

He hasn't even started the shower, just manically digging through the Jetii’s fresher without his cuirass, gloves, or boots on. He catches his reflection in the mirror, shocked to see just how flushed his face is. He is rarely affected by smells, thanks to the filtering in his helmet, and he’s never without it for long. So what is he doing? He shakes his head, mind clearing with the motion. He grips the edge of the counter and takes shallower breaths, not letting the wisp of that karking scent work him into another frenzy. 

The Jetii has granted him a place to stay, where he can rest and recuperate with his ad. 

Din was not going to let anything, including intriguing smells, disrupt his time here. He bites his lip, canines dig into the chapped skin, and he takes a steadying breath in and then out through his mouth. 

He is fine.

He unclips the remaining beskar'gam, taking care to place each piece on the bench against the wall. The shower is a water shower, something he’s so unused to, and it feels fantastic on his skin. The thought of ever having to use a sonic again makes his skin crawl. The Jetii had picked the perfect planet to start his academy; there were no higher life forms except for the three of them, all kinds of vegetation, and an overabundance of water. Din knows this from his own observations while orbiting the planet, as well as from the Jetii trying to talk his ears off. The blond gave Din a tour of the grounds and had spouted off fact after fact as Din quietly followed him. The things he spoke of were interesting, but there were bigger things to be distracted by—like the karking ancient temple that he brought Grogu to for field trips. Grogu delighted in chattering to his Buir, something that the Jetii had confirmed–Grogu refers to Din as his father, pointing out what Din gathered were his favorite spots, given the number of pond creatures he could see.

It was a perfect place for Grogu to thrive. 

The Jetii had provided so well for Din’s child. 

His mind grows hazy as steam fills the fresher, and the delicate cinnamon scent wraps around him once more. Each pass of his hands against his skin sets off little fireworks in his nervous system; everything feels so good.

 His cock, something he had not been paying attention to up to this point, ached. The skin was flushed, and the tip was dribbling with precome. How had he gotten worked up so quickly? He hadn't been doing anything? He tenderly wraps his hand around the organ, hissing at the contact. Well, he might as well take advantage of the situation. He wouldn't know when he would be able to bathe or touch with guaranteed safety again. 

The Jetii had promised him safety.

He leans against the stone wall, letting the hot water run down his body, and pumps his fist. 

He’s quiet, as he always is, only letting out little gasps here and there.

Din feels an aching lower, below his cock.

He rarely touches his hole; he never feels safe enough to do so, but he thinks if he doesn't give in now, he may scream from how badly he needs it. He feels empty, and his body just needs something, anything to fill the void. 

He’s going to open himself up, for the first time in ages, because he is safe, and it smells good here.

His other hand dips below his cock, finding his hole already wet with slick. His fingertips catch against the sensitive skin, making his entire body vibrate with need. 

He needs this. 

He can't stop himself from rutting into his own hands, pleasure sparking when he does so. One finger works into his hole, and he finds it even wetter somehow. 

He’s throbbing everywhere.

He had barely pressed his finger up to the first knuckle, and his cock was ignored as he explored his body. So when his orgasm surprises him, he throws his head back, smacking into the stone wall.

Din’s fingers and toes are filled with pins and needles as he blinks away shock.

What the kark was that about?

“Mando? Are you alright?” The Jetii’s soft voice calls through the door. The faint cinnamon is much stronger now, Din is sure of it. “I don't mean to pry, I just felt you through the force! I just want to make sure everything is well, you felt odd, and I thought it was strange you were feeling something like that while in the fresher, and I realize now that I am definitely crossing a line here. Oh, I’m sorry, just forget I was here. I’ve put Grogu down for the night in his own hut, so you don't need to worry about that–MANDO?”

The Jetii’s voice goes shrill when Din flings open the fresher door, naked and still dripping wet from his shower. Still wet from touching himself. But Din needs to know the source of this smell, has to know. Din grabs the blond by his shirt collar, noting that the man has closed his eyes so tightly that his face has scrunched up like a crushed can and flushed red, and shoves his nose just under the Jetii’s jaw.

There.

“Mando! Your helmet! Your–your everything!” The Jetii’s hands are clutching Din’s naked shoulders, one hand in a glove and the other is blessedly bare, and he feels like a cooling pack against Din’s burning skin. “What is going on?!”

Din takes another drag of the spicy cinnamon, the smell soothing the ache that has rapidly consumed his body. He’s salivating and grinding his teeth, his canines needing to gnaw on something, anything!

Osik. 

This is a heat. 

He’s started a heat. 

He’s in heat for the first time in probably a decade, and it’s because this Jetii smells like–smells like mate.

Luke smells like mate.

Din stumbles back, biting back a whimper at the loss of the delicious cinnamon, almost falling if Luke hadn't caught him. His eyes are still clamped shut, but his hands shoot out with space between them, his magic holding Din up. 

“Are you ok, Mando?” Luke asks wearily, his scent still barely there, but tainted with panic. The cinnamon is sharper, with a hint of citrus. “Can you not speak? Is that what's wrong?”

Din feels both uncertain and confident about his next move. He reaches for Luke’s ungloved hand, feeling his fingers twitch, and awkwardly threads them through his own. Luke squeaks at the action. That makes Din smile; his mate is silly. He’s both a legend and flesh and blood—a living contradiction. Luke is terrifying yet kind, strong yet soft, the perfect Mandalorian riduur. Luke clearly would give his life for Din’s child, putting himself in the line of fire before it ever had a chance to reach his ad. Luke also made sure Grogu was happy; the collection of toys and books in Grogu’s hut was evidence of that. Still treating him with the tender touch that a child needs, while teaching him to harness his own jetii magic. Din swallows, more scared and excited than he’s ever felt in his life. Mate.

“Din.”

“What?”

“My name is Din Djarn. Please do not call me Mando.”

“Oh uh…okay, Din?”

“Yes, riduur?”

“I thought no one could see your face.” Luke gulps, his hand gestures at all of Din. “Or, any of you…”

“My mate can.”

Luke pauses for a beat.

“Huh?”

His face cracks into a smile. Luke is perfect, not just because he’s Din’s mate, but because he’s already like that. 

A mate that Din has not shown that he is worthy of.

That thought snaps Din from his stupor.

“Nest.” He’s not asking, not right now. 

Din needs to prove he’s worthy of such an excellent mate, but he cannot do a majority of what he would like to do right now. Not while he’s in heat. The last time he had had one, he had been in pain every waking moment. He had not been somewhere he could safely nest, had been forced to stay in his beskar'gam the entire time. It had been miserable and terrifying. 

Din wants to go out and hunt, to bring back a beast that was both gruesome and majestic. Something that would serve as a trophy and as food, so Luke would know just how well Din could provide for him, for his clan. 

Right now, Din is going to make the best nest he can. He pulls Luke with him, naked as the day he was born, towards the hut Luke had given him. 

Din opens the door, only to be met with a wave of nothing. A sterileness that wiped away any traces of the cinnamon he so badly needs. It’s barren, with only one neatly made bed with one sheet, one blanket, and one pillow. He must make a sound at this discovery, because Luke is tentatively tapping his shoulder. 

“Din?” He is beautiful. It’s late, the sun making its descent below the horizon, making everything glow, making Luke look golden. His face is painted with concern, his eyes still shut.

Din softly traces Luke’s cheekbone, making him jump back a little, shocked by the touch.

“Need blankets.” His voice is raspy with no helmet to mask his tone. He sounds parched.

“Uh, I have blankets in my hut? I can go get them for you–” Luke is cut off by Din, abruptly pulling him off towards the other hut. He slows as he passes Grogu’s, feeling uneasy about not having his ad in his arms, in his nest. Luke, with his jetii magic, Din assumes, knows this and tries to comfort him.

“Artoo is keeping watch. He won't let anything happen to Grogu.”

As much as Din does not trust droids, he trusts Luke.

He pulls Luke into his hut, looking around for the promised blankets by rooting around in Luke’s closet. He finds none there, but is delighted to see that Luke’s clothes have kept just enough of the man’s scent to be perfect additions to his nest. 

He’s so focused on his task that he’s surprised when Luke drapes a soft, sand-toned blanket over his shoulders. It covers most of his top half, ending just below where his cock hangs. He turns as Luke steps away from him. His mate is blushing and stubbornly still not looking at him; part of Din is relieved, as he had never been so bare with someone before, not in his memory. The other part wants to shake Luke until he opens those eyes, eyes that Din knows are blue, just not how blue. His HUD muted colors, and that had not bothered him, not until now.

Luke navigates his hut blind, pulling out several more blankets and placing them on his small dining table. Yes, these will do just fine. Din busies himself with building his nest, layering the blankets with Luke’s shirts and pants. He feels more and more fulfilled as he weaves the fabrics together. Once he’s feeling better, after he gets Luke into his nest, he will go out and hunt. Every few minutes, he stops, finding a flaw in his method and carefully pulling pieces out, piling the offending blankets into Luke’s arms, making his cyare look adorably ruffled.

Din goes back to perfecting his nest.

He faintly hears Luke shuffling, grabbing something, and then shuffling back over to Din, accepting the next blanket Din hands to him. There's a click and a comlink beeps.

“This is Leia.” A woman’s voice crackles over the comlink, but Din pays little attention to it. Luke quietly speaks into the tech, his tone and his body language not matching. He’s calm as he talks with the woman, but the woman does not return that energy.

“...sounds like he’s in heat, Luke…”

“And what does that mean?” Din’s hands slow, listening a little more to his mate speak.

“...What do you mean ‘what does that mean?’”

“Why is he acting like this? Is he hurt? Do I need to get him to a medic?”

The comlink crackles and pops as the woman howls. It becomes clear to Din that she’s laughing, each breath interrupted with another laugh. From the corner of his eye, he can see Luke pouting. He seems familiar with the woman in a way that should make Din seethe with jealousy, but he isn't. He’s pleased to see how Luke’s pout is clearly holding back a smile, and anyone who makes his riduur happy makes Din happy. 

“Leia!”

“It means he’s probably an omega. A few near-human species have more than just male/female; it's like a subgender.” The woman explains, still giggling here and there. The two continue their conversation, while Din pushes the bed closer to the wall. He had to make sure no one would fall from the nest, and was now rethinking leaving the mattress on the bedframe. “–But it can be severe, Luke, he can get sick if his mate isn't there to help–” Did his mate not know these things? Is that why Luke hadn't jumped him back? How odd. But that's not here nor there, because Din would show him.

“If he reacted like that to you, I wouldn't be surprised if you were his mate–” This Leia was already in Din’s good book. He hoped to meet her one day. She continues her musing. “Which is why his heat must’ve been triggered when he removed his helmet.”

“What can I do, Leia? I want to keep him safe…”

“Make sure to encourage him, give him praise.” Maybe he should pull it to the floor? But then he would have to redo the entire nest…maybe he would do that later, when his heat wasn't so prevalent. “–and stay hydrated! I’m not dragging a bacta tank to Ossus if I don't have to–”

“Ok! I hear you! What else do I need to know?”

“Stars, I am never going to let you live this down. How did you not know this? I thought you went to school?”

“Tatooine is not known for its sexual education curriculum, Leia!” 

When Din is satisfied with his work, he turns to Luke, excited to show his mate their new nest. His euphoria is interrupted when he sees that Luke has taken what looks to be one of his fabric belts and has tied it over his eyes. He must feel Din staring at him as he quickly ends his call.

“Din? Do you need more?”

Kark, his mate is so caring. Too caring.

Din marches over to his mate, pulling him close. Luke is only an inch or two shorter than Din; his frame is smaller but no less strong. Din can feel his arms, the muscles under the sleeves of his tunic, and they are firm. He imagines that Luke’s body follows the pattern of firmness all over. The thought of Luke’s body makes his mouth water, but Din has to focus just a little longer. He needs to show Luke the nest and demonstrate his skills in creating a safe space for them. He leads Luke to it, ushering him into it. 

“It’s uh, it’s nice?” Luke awkwardly pats the mound. Luke holds himself stiff, like he was afraid the nest would collapse.

Now that upset Din.

He takes great pleasure in climbing atop of Luke—pushing the man down, skin meeting the soft, loose material of Luke’s clothes, Din having long shed the blanket Luke had draped over his shoulders. His skin burned too hot to wear it comfortably, making him sweaty and sticky. And as much as he would like to strip Luke of his clothes, he waits for his mate to do it himself. He wants Luke to feel as desperate as he does.

He settles his weight just above Luke’s hips, his ass landing where Luke’s waistband ends. Luke squeaks again, but the nest holds steady just like Din thought it would. 

“It will not break, riduur.” He speaks confidently, but not fully capable of forming complete sentences. “Made strong, for us.”

“Oh, right, yes…you did a very good job, Din.” Luke squirms under him, but does not try to dislodge him. Bracing himself with his hands on either side of Luke, Din rubs the tip of his nose to the Jetii’s, enjoying the blush it spurred. “W-what can I do for you, Din?”

He wants to kiss Luke, but Din has never kissed anyone. His creed prevented that. And he had never wanted to kiss anyone anyway. He understands it, knows its mouths against mouths, but he doesn't know how. He presses his lips to Luke’s neck, opening his mouth and licking at the skin, tasting the cinnamon and humming in delight at the flavor. His teeth scrape against his mate’s Adam's apple. Luke makes a noise, similar to a squeak but stifled, as if he were trying to suppress it.

Din wants to hear his mate. Badly.

He licks again at Luke’s neck, dragging his tongue up to his chin dimple. He nips at the spot, letting his teeth gently sink in. Luke yelps, but his hips wiggle under him. A good reaction, Din thinks. 

Din wants to bite him everywhere.

His omega agrees.

His omega instincts rarely have their moment; his softer nature was not something that thrived well in the conditions his covert had to endure. When they flare up now, his mind is filled with haze again, like he was back in the water shower. It screams for Din to cover every inch of Luke with his spit, his sweat, his come. And he’s almost accomplished that, as he can feel his slick drip down his leg and onto Luke’s stomach. The mere idea of his slick near Luke sends more slick running.

“Din, am I–? Can I?” His mate is taking measured breaths, his hands hovering over Din’s hips. He sounds frustrated and confused. Din stops licking. “Can I touch you?”

“Oh, ner ori'meshla riduur. Yes. Touch.” 

Instead of grabbing Din’s sides, Luke clutches Din’s face, holding him like he was something precious. Luke presses their mouths together, going slow like he knew Din wasn't sure how, carefully licking into Din’s mouth. It feels good; his facial hair tickles as he rubs his face against Luke’s smooth skin. Everything feels like little explosions across his nervous system, and he moans into Luke’s mouth. Luke moans back, and Din feels it in his chest.

Luke breaks them apart, gasping for air. Din couldn't care less about breathing, because he can see a string of spit connecting them. He chases it, only to be caught by Luke, gripping the hair on the back of his head tightly. 

His omega purrs at the feeling.

“Din,” He breathes. “I can help you through this, through your heat. But you have to tell me if that’s what you want.”

Din nods his head so hard he swears he can feel his brain rattle around in his skull.

“Out loud, Din.”

“Yes, please. Ner riduur. Ner mate.”

With his consent, Luke sits up, taking Din with him. Luke shimmies off his tunic, and Din is immediately on him. He kisses—because now he knows how to, each new piece of flesh revealed to him, mixing in a lick and a bite as it made something in him howl with glee. It helps that each action is rewarded with Luke moaning and sighing.

Din teethes at the fine lines that are scattered across Luke’s chest, the scars are sensitive, given Luke’s full body reaction. His back arches and fingers shake before he flexes them into a clenched fist.

Luke is distracted as Din goes on, pausing with his shirt sleeves stuck halfway on his arms, one side tangled in his glove. Din pulls at the offending material, bringing Luke’s hand to his mouth and sucking one finger. He runs his tongue back and forth, covering Luke in his saliva, in his scent. Luke’s mouth is open, like he was in shock, and little puffs of air warm Din’s face.

Luke groans as Din sucks another finger into his mouth.

He sounds winded, an odd tone of awe cloaking his words. “I can feel you, Din.”

Well, yes, he should. 

Din enjoys satisfying his omega, letting it take the reins and mark up their mate. Din bites down on the fingers, not enough to hurt, and suddenly Luke has them flipped. Din is pressed into the nest, and Luke is nestled between his legs, with full access to Din. Even with the blindfold, Luke navigates Din’s body like he’s known it for years. He presses one kiss after another to Din’s chest, slowly following an invisible line down.

Luke stops just before Din’s cock, blowing cool air against the burning appendage and making Din groan. 

His mate is a tease.

“Come on, Din, show me what you need.” Luke’s voice melts over him, little shivers visible across his body. Luke licks the head of his cock, collecting the pearl of precome and humming. “Din?”

Din’s on another plane of reality, dizzy with pleasure from just one little action, and Luke hasn't gotten the notice that he can't form any words currently. 

“Does this feel alright, omega?” 

The air rushes out of him all at once. 

He had hated it when others in his tribe referred to him by his designation; it had felt wrong, making his skin crawl. Din had gone above and beyond to conceal his status, in and out of the tribe. He did not know many others like him, and those he did know of were not to be trusted. 

He had learned that the hard way, in his youth, when someone he had trusted with his heat had tried to pry his buy’ce from his head. 

He had ripped their throat out for it. 

He spent the rest of that heat alone, mind lost to the pain, and scared. So, so scared.

Din hadn’t been in heat for so long; he had assumed he was too old for them anymore, perhaps his mind and body were too worried about hiding them. But here he was now, nothing but a lovesick pup, desperate for his mate. Desperate for Luke. Without his buy’ce. 

Luke slows his actions, pressing kiss after kiss to Din’s hips, thighs, and to his open palm. Luke guides Din’s hands to his hair, taking care to keep them away from the blindfold. 

“Sweet, omega.“ Luke murmurs against his hip; his lips are warm, but it’s still a slight cool relief to Din. “I’ll take care of you. Gonna make you feel good, I promise.”

Luke presses a finger to Din’s hole, slipping it in with ease from the insane amount of slick Din’s produced, and Din already feels better. Just having any part of Luke inside him has curbed his growing fever. Luke carefully presses deeper, one finger becoming two, then three, and Din gasped with every thrust. Luke curled his fingers, just barely rubbing against what Din knew was his prostate, making him thrash in the nest.

“Doing so well, Din. Just a little bit more, omega…”

If Luke weren’t wearing the blindfold, Din would be able to see his eyes. He imagined Luke looking up at him through his lashes, a coy smile painting his face. The thought of his sparkling blue eyes thrilled him, but every time he went for the fabric, Luke would softly bat his hand away. Dank farrick, his jetii magic must feel him coming from a mile away. 

Din wants to see, wants to know if he’s right, if Luke’s eyes sparkle. 

Luke shifts forward, mouthing along Din’s cock until he reaches the head again, sucking the tip and swirling his tongue around it. Din takes a stuttered breath in, and Luke swallows him down. 

He thinks he screams, but an orgasm burns through his bloodstream, and all Din knows is mate, mate, mate. 

Din needs his mate. 

He’s less than agile right now, something he is only vaguely aware of, as he essentially tackles Luke. The man yelps, something so silly to hear come from the legendary jetii, as Din climbs over him again. Luke is still wearing his pants, and while the material had not bothered him before, it was actively working against him. Din needs to have his mate inside him. 

Now. 

His hands feel clunky as he pulls at the opening of the pants, feeling slightly miffed by the second belt that he finds. How many belts does his mate own? He opts to rip it. Problem solved. Luke gasps, whether it’s in anger, shock, or awe, Din does not know; he just busies himself with yanking the awful pants off his mate. Din is captivated by his freckles, licking and kissing the golden skin, then biting at the wonderfully sturdy thighs. 

And even better, Luke is not wearing any small clothes. 

His cock isn't as thick as Din’s, but it’s longer. It looks painfully erect, and Luke hisses when it bobs free from its fabric prison. Another thing Din has never done is give a partner oral. He’s experienced it a few times, not counting here with his mate, but he’s sure he can figure it out. 

So he closes his mouth around the delicate organ and sucks him in deep, pressing the soft tip to the back of his throat.

“OH STARS. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Din, sweetheart!” Luke gasps and tangles his hands into Din’s curls. When Din accidentally scrapes Luke’s cock with his sharp teeth, Luke only gets louder. “Gotta slow down, fuck—Din!” Every sound his mate makes is more addictive than the last, and Din needs them all permanently etched into his brain. Luke’s hips buck up, forcing more into Din’s mouth. He chokes a little but is determined to push through the sting, but Luke falters. 

“Omega!” 

It’s not an alpha voice, Din’s just enough aware to know that Luke isn't like him, that Luke’s not even a beta. Their biology is just close enough that one would have to look very closely even to see how they differ. But Luke’s stern tone still clicks something in place for Din. He stops, letting Luke fall from his mouth, and stares longingly at his mate’s cock. 

Din nudges his nose to the soft blond hairs of Luke’s thigh, an apology to his riduur. 

Luke pets his head, sighing as he catches his breath. Din isn't sure how much time passes, but he watches as Luke’s cock goes from uncomfortably pulsing and red to just hard. 

It’s comfortable between Luke’s legs, listening to his mate breathe, feeling something around them occasionally zap. Whatever it is, it calms the haze in his mind, like it was petting him, too. 

“Need you,” Din mumbles into Luke’s thigh when his hole begins throbbing again. “Please.”

Luke sits up, gathering Din into his arms. Din’s legs bracket Luke’s, and they’re pressed chest to chest. He’s happy to plaster Luke’s face with kisses again, making it a personal goal to kiss every freckle that graces his body. He’s distracted by this when Luke lifts him, which is no small feat considering Din has at the very least eighty pounds on him. His mate is careful as he presses into Din’s hole, but it doesn’t stop Din from crying out. The sound he makes is a mix of bliss and agony, relieved that his body is finally getting what it so desperately needs. 

“It’s ok, you’ve got this. Doing so well, my love.” Luke whispers the praise into his ear; his breath is hot against the rarely exposed skin. “Just a little more, almost there…and there.” 

Luke drops his forehead to Din’s shoulder, moaning while he rocks Din back and forth on his cock. A sharp zing shoots up his spine, his omega clearly pleased with the fact that their mate feels just as good as Din does. Din knows Luke has no knot, but he doesn’t think that matters, not when Luke feels so fucking good inside him.

He can forget all the aches and sores all over his body, can forget every lonely heat, and forget every pathetic nest he’s ever attempted because he feels that all of it was worth it. It was worth it to go so long to meet such a perfect mate.

His fingernails dig into Luke’s skin, leaving little crescent moons among the starred freckles.

This time, his orgasm is not a surprise.

It sprouts from his core, growing like a vine up his spine, and blooms just under his heart. It kisses him like Luke does. 

Luke is kissing him?

Something cracks inside him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Din, oh stars.”

Din’s ears ring as the overwhelming fire of his heat fades to the back of his mind, even if it’s temporary.

“Din, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

There’s a thrum at the base of his skull, and he can only recognize one urge.

“Oh, kark, Din–”

Bite.

Din bites.

Luke screams.

Din can feel his come drip out of him.

✧✦✧

Din isn't sure how many times his heat rears its head that night. He knows he’s come more than once, that Luke works to keep Din’s heat to a manageable simmer between giving him sips of water and giving him several orgasms. He knows it’s a new day, as the sun is rising, just barely peaking over the horizon. He remembers sinking his canines into the delicate skin of Luke’s neck. He remembers making Luke bleed. 

He doesn't want to open his eyes.

He doesn't want to confirm he’s done something so awful to Luke.

Din gave him a mating bite.

He’d marked Luke as his, forever, without asking. 

Din is lost in thought, his heat fading to a simmer in the back of his mind. 

Luke had given himself to Din to make sure he would be safe and comfortable during his heat, despite not knowing what was happening. He had blinded himself to protect Din’s creed, without Din asking. Luke was the perfect mate. The perfect riduur. But Luke didn't know that, didn't understand the implications. 

Din had taken advantage of that.

He could never ask that of Luke, ever again.

He wants to put every blanket, pillow, and shirt back into its rightful place and crawl back to his ship, never to show himself again in this system. He wanted to make sure there was never any sign of him. 

Din’s omega cried at the thought. How could Din go on without his mate? Without his child? Each realization hits him like a speeder. 

Din needed to leave.

But he would he leave without his mate seeing him? The only ones that Din had ever wanted to see him without his buy'ce were his own clan. His son has seen him, and he was glad for that. Grogu deserved the softness of aliit, of being known by his buir.

The other would be his riduur. 

He never thought he’d get either; his role in the tribe was that of beroya. He provided. Nothing less, nothing more. 

This is the way.

Din blinks slowly. He pointedly does not look at Luke’s neck, but he can see the edge of the cruel bite, festering and red. The blindfold still covered his eyes, the knot poking out in what Din thought looked uncomfortable. Luke hadn't complained once. 

He slips the blindfold off Luke’s head.

The blond twitches, his nose scrunching up at the tickle. 

Din is captivated by his lashes, letting his fingertips run along the delicate, soft hairs. They’re dark, not a brown or bronzed gold like the other hair on his body—Luke hums, a sound that reverberates in his throat. Din only hesitates for a second before he traces the freckles across his love’s face. Luke swats at his hand, grumbling more in his sleep, and Din is so, karking fucked.

The remainder of his heat would hurt, might even kill him, when he leaves his mate. He’d have to hole up in his ship with his measly collection of soft things, in his pitiful excuse of a nest, and try to purge one of the best days of his life from his memory. His eyelashes clump together with unshed tears. 

Luke lets out a prolonged sigh, his body going taut as he stretches into being awake. Din watches as he lifts his arms and pops several joints, before settling back into his pillow.

Maybe Luke is a heavy sleeper, and Din still has time to run away with his tail between his legs. 

His moping had put him in a situation he hadn't been ready to deal with in the first place, he thinks as Luke opens his eyes. Din is blown away when sky-blue eyes are finally revealed. Realization creeps up as Luke seems to recall the previous day, his face and neck flushing bright red, his mouth forming an “O”. His gaze quickly darts away, instead looking at the ceiling, and for good measure, he slaps a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry! I must’ve pulled the blindfold loose in my sleep. I can–”

“Luke. I’m so sorry.”

Luke’s face immediately turns from remorseful to angry; he doesn't turn his head, but his hand smacks to his side, and he stares at the ceiling incredulously.

“Why the Hell are you sorry? I’m the one who broke your creed!”

Din sits up, leaning over Luke to meet his eyes.

They do sparkle.

They were also filled to the brim with outrage.

Luke props himself up on his elbows, no longer trying to avoid looking at Din’s face. Din leans back so they don’t smack their heads together, leaving them nose to nose now.

“Can you cut that out? You look like a kicked tooka!”

“Luke, Cyrae, I attacked you. And if I don't leave soon, I’ll do it again.” Din gestures to Luke’s neck. If he weren't so busy trying to convince Luke of the atrocities he’s just committed, he’d be greatly enthused with just how much Luke can scrunch his face. He looks ridiculous. “I marked you as mine.”

“Ok, I know you weren't totally there when I called my sister–if anything, I took advantage of you,” Din scoffs, and Luke glares at him. “But come on, you had to have heard the part where she explicitly told me about mating. She was not holding back, Din.” Luke pulls himself level with Din. He waits a moment for a response, apparently finding his answer in Din’s face. “Din, if I didn't want this, it would not have happened. Not just because I could use the force to stop you, but because you would have stopped yourself.”

“...you don't know that.” Din stares at him incredulously, and Luke looks at him like he’s crazy—a stalemate. 

“Listen, if you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you. However, when I spoke with Leia, I arranged for her to come and get Grogu, so someone could keep a close eye on him while we finished your heat. I want to be here for you.”

Luke loses steam as he finishes, casting his gaze down to the bed, wringing his hands together. 

“Something in you knows I’m your mate. Something in me says the same thing about you. Maybe it’s the force, maybe it’s us. I don't know. I just know how I feel…” Luke rubs at the sensitive skin around his bite mark, wincing when he catches the broken skin.

Din makes his decision.

He catches Luke’s hand, holding it to his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the calloused palm.

Luke’s eyes are like an endless sea, reminding Din of the Living Waters and the fear he felt there. Din’s not afraid of drowning, not here. Not now. 

He tips his head to the side, exposing his neck.

“Mates bite back.”