Watching closely as the room cleared out after being dismissed, Boba let out a tired breath and then pulled his helmet off, setting it on the arm Fennec normally sat on as he ran his hand over his sweaty scalp. “Karking assholes.” He grumbled quietly.

Fennec shot him a slight smirk and closed the door tightly behind her, ensuring privacy.

Dealing with the gangs on Tatooine was proving to be difficult, especially the hutt implants and the ones involved with slavery.

But Boba was also steadily building out his own group, a lot of old friends had come when they heard Boba had taken over and some new ones had joined him. Especially former slaves.

The former gladiator ones were really useful as guards.

Could be trusted too, as most of them were beyond grateful for Boba freeing them.

Most of them were alphas too, though a few of them had been castrated to make them more… manageable. Boba knew it was a practice slavers used but honestly, it was barbaric.

It was one of the reasons Boba had abolished slavery on Tatooine, even if it gained him more enemies.

There was a small thump against his knee, bringing Boba out of his thoughts and he let out a soft noise as he took in Din sitting on the dais, his head resting against Boba’s knee. “Hey… you okay?” He rumbled, reaching out to gently run his thumb under the helmet and kute, feeling sweaty skin.

Din’s pulse was steady and he nodded but his skin was very sweaty.

‘Just tired potentially.’ Boba shifted and reached down, pulling the other up and into his lap, listening at the scrapes of beskar against beskar. “Its alright vod’ika. You can relax, everyone’s been shown out.” Boba rumbled at the omega.

Din shifted a bit then slowly reached up and pulled his helmet off, settling it in his lap as he pressed his face to Boba’s neck, huffing in his scent.

Din had been doing that more often lately, taking comfort in Boba’s scent as they built their packbond.

It was… nice.

Pleasing in a way Boba would claim, to be needed and trusted by Din after everything the other had gone through. Soothed some long abandoned instinct in Boba.

The fact that he took his helmet off in front of Boba was also an honor.

The unique way Din and Paz covert followed the resol’nare wasn’t something Boba had ever encountered from any other mandalorian he had meet, it certainly did not fit with the one his father had tried to teach him.

Boba would almost call it a cult but that wasn’t quite right either, regardless what Kryze had called it to Din. A cult was generally something lead by a charismatic leader and from what Din and Paz had admitted, there was no clear leader.

Just a Goran that ensured supplies were distributed and armor created.

Technically though, a cult could also be defined by adhering to an ideology admittedly, but if that was the base for it, then all mandalorians were cults. The only thing that differed Din and Paz from others were the fact that they were not to remove their helmets.

That could have been a warped safety precaution that had become tradition if Boba thought about it.

Regardless, there were no prayers, sacrifices, offerings outside of supplying the covert, competitions or anything like that. It wasn’t a cult by the true definitions of it, just survival of a group of people that were being slaughtered by the Empire.

Regardless, things were different now, both Din and Paz were struggling to make their own lives now as no survivors had yet to find them.

Going by what Din had found when he returned to Nevarro…

Well, neither expected survivors if they were honest and it broke Boba’s heart to see Din so sad and guilty for what he had brought to their covert. Paz had quickly disabused him of that notion, the covert had chosen to reveal themselves, Din had not asked. But emotions were a tricky thing and Boba knew that.

Nuzzling slowly at his vod’ika, Boba purred softly for him. “It will be alright. You’re here and I’m here and Paz is here, we’ll help you.” He promised softly as Din pressed into his throat.

It was one of the reasons he hadn’t thrown the alpha on his ass.

He was good for Din, their heartbroken Din.

‘The moment he fucks up, I’m fucking him up.’ Boba nosed gently at Din’s curly hair, noting how long it was getting.

Din didn’t answer, simply pressed himself into Boba’s broader if shorter frame.

‘Just give him time… we have all the time in the world for this.’ Boba pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

Vod’ika = little brother

Goran = Armorer