how’s the hunt for luke going in need for touch? i wonder if grogu is having as hard a time without his dad as din is without his kiddo…

Tucking Din’s leg, which had fallen out at some point back under their blanket, Paz reached out and stroked the others hair out of his face, observing the worn lines on his face.

But, well, at least Din was sleeping peacefully.

That bought a smile to Paz lips and he couldn’t resist leaning in to gently press a soft kiss to the apple of Din’s tanned cheek, feeling the scratch of stubble beneath his lips.

He wanted to linger in that moment, the softness, the sight of Din peacefully resting but Boba had called and therefore Paz straightened and put his helmet on, leaving his bond promised behind in their den to meet up with the other alpha.

Hopefully it meant good news, though it had been weeks since the two decided to try to find the Jedi.

Quietly, Paz closed the door behind himself, nodding to a passing guard in the slightly cool hall and made his way down the hall towards the throne room. Since Boba had added him to the scanner, Paz knew it would let him in as Boba also expected him and seeing as it was night time and only trusted people were left in the palace, Paz only worn his helmet, worn out thin sleep pants and a t-shirt that was frankly a tad too small.

Paz made a concentrated effort not to stretch in the thing, flushing a bit when a beta guard in the throne room suddenly perked up with interest, her eyes obviously tracing over the taut material and the bulk of his arms. She kept watching him closely as he crossed to the back of the throne to enter the King’s quarters and he could feel her eyes on him until the door closed behind him.

If Din had seen it, he would have gotten grumpy for sure, no one in the palace was ignorant that Paz and Din were bond promised after all.

Admittedly, it was a tad flattering to get the attention Paz had to admit, in the privacy of his own head. But there was only one person for him and that was Din, no one else measured up to the mighty beroya of the covert.

That he had managed to catch Din’s attention and keep it was not something he was willing to risk.

“Paz, there you are, I was wo-what the hell are you wearing?” Boba paused mid sentence, blinking bemusedly up at Paz from his position on the wing of the L shaped couch, his armor on its stand with Boba dressed in one of his black robes.

“My sleep wear?” Paz returned, equally bemused as he padded over and sat down near the other alpha. “I mean, I was in bed when you called. I’m honestly shocked it didn’t wake Din.” He shrugged a tad.

Boba eyed the hot pink if slightly faded t-shirt Paz was wearing that was clearly a size too small before letting out an amused snort with a head shake. “Well, I… anyhow, I found a lead on Skywalker, though I’m not sure its a valid one. I also sent a message to Organa that I want to speak with her brother.” He explained, looking down at the pad on his lap.

Leaning a bit forward to peer at it, Paz squinted a bit at the tiny letters on the tablet before shaking his head and looking back at Boba’s face. “A lead?” He questioned hopefully, settling a bit against the back of the couch.

Boba glanced at him, snorting at the sight of the t-shirt riding up on his stomach before he scrolled through his pad and brought up a map that he showed Paz.

Squinting at it, Paz let out a noise as he saw a tracked route leading from Coruscant to somewhere out along Outer Rims and he looked to Boba in confusion.

The man tapped his nail on the pad. “This? This is a shipping line from Organa to somewhere else. Medical supplies, freeze dried food along with long storage food, different fabrics, some motor parts for ships and speeders and sometimes other things are on the shipment list. I suspect she’s shipping supplies to her brother and his temple.” He explained to the mandalorian.

A noise of understanding escaped Paz. “That makes sense, I mean, they can’t make everything on one planet, wouldn’t have the resources to do that… could I take a look at the shipment lists?” He questioned.

Scrolling through the pad and bringing up the lists, Boba handed the pad to Paz to look through. “Organa might be willing to give us information or at least send Skywalker a message, if she decides to talk to me. If nothing less, her getting one to her golden brother would at least alert Skywalker to Din’s difficulties.” Boba murmured quietly as Paz read.

“Mmmn, hopefully. I don’t know much about this Skywalker but to take a adiik from an already injured omega…” Paz shook his head, grimacing.

He only looked away from the pad when the other let out a deep sigh. “Look, I’m not gonna defend Skywalker but… he’s not a bad person. Not really. I don’t really get what was going through his or Din’s head back on that cruiser but… there’s more to the story than what we get at least and if he knew the effect it would have on Din, I don’t think he would have done it.” Boba rubbed at his scarred face slowly and tiredly.

After weeks of a despondent Din, Paz wasn’t feeling quite so charitable however and only let out a vague noise of understanding, turning his attention back to the lists. As he did, he started to see a common denominator. “…There’s no fruit on this list.” He said slowly.

He felt Boba shift closer, but continued scrolling, flickering his eyes quickly over the letters.

“No vegetables either.” Paz mumbled, eyes widening with slight realization just as Boba let out a deep hum.

“They’re somewhere green. Green and fertile.” Boba stated with conviction, conviction Paz shared as excitement started to bubble in his chest.

Somewhere green and fertile in the outer rims that they could grow fresh produce.

‘Hold on adi’ika, soon your buir will see you again.’

Adiik = Child

Adi’ika = little one

Buir = parent

May we please get more Dinpaz in NeedForTouch? Like seeing how Din is healing and Paz is supporting him? Or if you’re comfortable with this, having Luke take Grogu for a visit to Tatooine to see Boba, Din, and Luke?

Setting the glass down in front of the other, biting the inside of his cheek so not to laugh at the sight of the silly straw in it while making a note to give the bartender a raise, Boba sat down with his own drink and a deep sigh. “So, you’d say he’s doing better?” He questioned quietly.

His eyes were locked on Paz as the mando reached down and picked up the glass of booze, sticking the straw under his helmet to take a sip. And to buy himself some time to think likely about his answer.

“That is… subjective I’d say.” Paz finally answered, leaning back in the booth.

Seeing as he wanted to have a private conversation with Paz, Boba had opted to find the other and settle into a talk in the usual alcove the big blue warrior had taken as ‘his’ spot in the throne room, everyone recognizing that this was pack talk and therefore staying away.

Or well, most of them.

There were a few nosy ones that had to be sent away with pointed blasters on the table and the two alphas visors locked on them.

Honestly, Boba really liked the spot Paz had claimed as his own. It was near an opening in the building, so any smoke wasn’t caught in the alcove and instead disappeared out, leaving it a tad fresher than some of the other places.

The couch of the alcove was also damn comfortable and Din had provided this particular alcove with lots and lots of pillows when he recognized it as Paz place.

“Subjective…” Boba repeated, taking a big gulp of his whiskey, savoring the burn down his throat. If nothing else, the core idiots knew how to make decent booze.

Paz sighed deeply and set his glass down, the pink straw clicking slightly as it curves bumped into it. He settled his elbows on his thighs and pressed his hands together between knees as he leaned slightly forward. “He’s healing, so physically, he is good. Eating for sure, taking care of himself, sparring. Don’t need us to prompt him to do it and he comes willingly for skinship thankfully but,” Paz paused, mulling over it, maybe how to put it into words. “…But he’s struggling still mentally and I wouldn’t strictly call him happy as much as just existing.” Paz finally settled on with a deep sigh.

Boba paused before nodding slowly.

So, Paz had taken note of the same thing as him then. “…He laughing around you?” He questioned lowly, sighing deeply too when Paz shook his head.

“Some weak smiles but laughing, no. He’s struggling emotionally and mentally I would bet. The loss of a pup has always been particularly bad for a dam and Din…” Paz cut himself of, grunting slightly as he shifted in discomfort.

Boba narrowed his eyes at him, slowly setting his glass down.

“…Look, things are hard for entire coverts and we had to be careful,” Paz murmured. “Din was our only beroya. It meant he was often out for weeks if not months and his buir has been dead for good over ten years, he died with Din on a mission, so Din hadn’t really… it made it difficult for him to…” He struggled but Boba already got it.

“Are you telling me that the foundling, his pup was the first proper pack connection Din had?” Boba rasped, groaning deeply when Paz nodded.

Karking hell, no wonder it had impacted Din so hard. So not only given up his adopted pup but also his first deep and proper pack connection in years. Clearly, Paz had been trying to connect at some point, else Din wouldn’t have reacted to him as he did when he found him but Din’s primary pack connection had been gone at that time.

It put a lot of things into context for Boba, having done the same thing himself but he was an alpha and he hadn’t given up a damn pup at the same time. “…I’m gonna hunt down Skywalker,” He finally grunted out, watching Paz jerk to a bit. “This can’t go on. Din needs more than just we can provide. We’re his pack, we’re bonding but its clear that giving up his pup is doing a havoc on his mental and emotional state.” He growled out quietly.

Some alphas could take that as an offense, the idea of not being able to provide for their omega, the heart of their clans and packs as without one, there wasn’t a true pack.

Some alphas would take up the challenge to just knock the omega up, as if replacing one pup with another somehow soothed it all.

Thankfully, Paz was not like that as all he did was nod. “He needs his pup.” He agreed easily.

Too easily almost.

So, Paz had thought the same too then but didn’t have the resources or know how to find Skywalker then potentially. Well, seeing as Boba wasn’t the pack head, Paz not coming to him about it wasn’t too shocking…

He and Paz were still working out their relationship in the scale of this pack, one being the mate of the omega and the other being the brother so to speak.

“Do you think Din has what it takes to be the heart of the pack?” Boba decided to change the subject, picking up his drink.

“Omegas are always hearts of the pack,” Paz returned with strongly before hesitating. “…He needs to settle in, heal fully. Seeing his pup again, holding him, that might help him flourish. So he can hold onto the position as heart of a pack.” He muttered.

Boba hummed but nodded.

Din wasn’t at his best right now, still strong, but strong walls could fall without proper attending. ‘Guess I better get to work on my information guild, Skywalker is bound to be hiding somewhere with the rest of the Jedi… but Organa is on Coruscant…’ Boba paused, glass at his lips.

Now, there was a chance to get a message that way.

May the audience have some more NeedForTouch? Specifically with Paz and Din talking over what happened? Or how Boba, Din, Paz, and Fennec are becoming a pack?

Now, Din wasn’t oblivious, not really.

Honestly, he’d have to be nose blind to not smell Paz interest in him, curled up in Paz den and cuddled into him as he often is. Not even the filters of his helmet would have been able to remove all the scent when their out of their kute and armor and only in sleep clothes and helmets.

He just…

Well, he hadn’t had the energy to deal with it, the loss in his soul for his pup making him ache and feel listless in ways he couldn’t explain.

But the days passed, with Boba, Paz and Fennec hovering around him, providing each their own comfort and care. Sometimes, Cobb called from Mos Pelgo, having a friendly chat and promising to visit when he could. Cara had done the same with Greef voice echoing in the back but it was further away for them than for Cobb.

Apparently, after the deal with the tuskens were struck, the town was much safer as the tuskens and town’s people now worked together instead of working against each other. They had even initiated trade.

Cobb had quietly, with a sly smile, informed Din that they had managed to get a steady supply of black melons and the village had managed to filter the awful taste out of it.

Which was nice to hear, on a planet like this, any kind of fluid to hydrate was good, making it easier to swallow was a good idea though. Children might not swallow it if it tasted like it was in the source.

Shifting slightly, Din returned his mind back to Paz, feeling the others arms around his waist. They had been sharing the same bed since they arrived on Tatooine, unless Din stayed with Boba, his vode often comforting him.

Boba often made him feel small in those moments.

Not in a bad way though.

Small but protected, the same way his dad had done before in the village and his buir later on in the covert when they held him tight to their chest and stroked his back.

But most days, he stayed with Paz in his den.

Shifting slowly, Din turned around to look at the other’s helmet, flickering his eyes up and down, running his hand hesitantly up and down Paz dark brown upper arm. Then he ran his hand up to the others exposed neck, finding the others scent gland and bonding patch, fingertips a light touch. He was grateful the other had worn a low v necked shirt to bed last night.

Paz would be a good alpha.

Caring and warm, always there for their mate, be they beta, omega or even another alpha.

‘He wants me… do I want him?’ Din licked his lips then flushed as his mind opted that moment to remind him of all the times he thought of Paz after Nevarro. Okay, so that was a stupid question, even from an emotionally unstable and anxious man like Din was right now.

Could he be the kind of omega Paz wanted though…

Mandalorian omegas weren’t the same as core omeg-dank farrik.

Din wrinkled his nose, why was he even thinking about core omegas and standards?

His lips pulled into a snarl in silent disgust, both at the thought of core standards and at the idea that Paz would want anything to do with that. Paz admired warriors, mandalorian alphas wanted warriors, not pushovers that simply stayed barefoot and at home, always pregnant.

They wanted mates that fought at their side, wanted fierce mates that carried a child and protected both themselves and their child as ferociously as any alpha would. ‘That’s what Paz would want too… but I’m not that kind of omega, am I?’ Din slumped a tad.

He had given up his child so easily, despite being tasked with returning Grogu to his own kind, that still made him a bad omega.

Paz couldn’t possib- “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but stop it.” Paz sleep growling voice rolled through his vocoder, Din jerking his hand away guiltily as the arms tightened around his waist.

“I-” Din stammered a tad, squirming in the grip of the others arms.

“You smell miserable Din’ika,” Paz continued, gently tapping their heads together in a Keldable kiss. “I can make a guess what you’re thinking but believe me when I say that you’re a good omega. A good buir… I certainly think you’re good.” Paz voice eased with softness.

Swallowing thickly, Din struggled to open his mouth, find something to say.

Then he simply swallowed and sat up, Paz letting him go so he could, visor tilted to keep track of Din.

He went ramrod stiff when Din reached for his helmet, slowly pulling his helmet off. “Din…” He rasped, large hand settling on the bounty hunter’s thigh, voice conflicted and yet seemingly incapable of turning his head away.

Settling his helmet down in his lap, Din nervously looked to the alpha, stroking his helmet flattened hair out of his face, feeling the curl of it due to the length.

For a long minute, the two simply stared at each other, Din clinging to his helmet, visibly feeling Paz eyes flicker over his face despite the visor in the way.

Finally though, Paz sat up too, still staring. Then he slowly reached out and cupped Din’s cheek with a large, warm hand. “Mesh’la…” Paz whispered reverently, huffing out air when Din turned his head to kiss the others palm.

Watching nervously, Din held his breath as Paz reached up for his own helmet with his free hand, tucking those large, long fingers under the chin and pulling up.

Warm brown eyes looked back at him for the first time without a barrier, and Din knew that this, this was a moment he’d remember forever as Paz smiled at him, his face framed by tight curls along with the a goatee not unlike Cobb in the same black as Paz hair.

His nose was broad and slightly flat and his lips were large and dark to match his brown skin tone.

It suited him.

Paz was beautiful and Din let out a low noise, practically a quiet whine. “P-Paz.” He stammered again, unsure what he was asking for.

Paz however seemed to know, his eyes softening even more somehow before the alpha leaned in and pressed their foreheads together.  “Mesh’la.” He simply repeated, warm thumb stroking delicately under Din’s eye.

‘…I was right. He is a good alpha.’ Din let himself fall apart, slumping against Paz as the other held him, their helmets resting in their laps as for the first time since he gave up Grogu, Din finally started to feel warmth in his soul once more.

Mesh’la = beautiful

Need for touch, is Boba and Din brothers now? father and son? I mean, they are almost the same age but Boba is clearly out to adopt the other in some way.

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

the need for touch, are they settling into the palace now? how is din? is paz courting him?

According to Fett, the former Hutt palace was a skughole but…

Honestly, as Paz got to enjoy a water shower on a timer, he had to say that ever since they had to flee Mandalore, he hadn’t been in a more luxurious place than he was that moment.

Maybe Din had, Din was their beroya, he traveled the galaxy but from what he had learned from Din, he often opted to stay in his ship, the destroyed Razor Crest he used to have.

This palace, now Fett Palace despite the alpha’s strained hold on it for now, had actual food to feed an army, could have fed the entire Covert for at least a week or two. It had water for days, fresh, clean water, enough to take literal water showers and on a planet like Tatooine, that was a luxury few could afford.

Paz had seen the water vapors behind the palace of course, he imagined that most of the water for the shower came from those. He had heard one of the working people Fett had hired in say that the water that collected in those vapors weren’t good for drinking.

Something about the positions of the vapors and a mist?

Chemicals in the ground?

But it was fine for showering and if you cooked it first, boiled it safe, you could still drink it and use it for food prep.

Fett however seemed content to use it for showering.

Fennec had told Paz that his and Din’s room were actually one of the few with the connection to the water line. It wasn’t for everyone and it made Paz once more grateful to the alpha for providing such a luxury.

Din… needed it.

Taking a shower in your helmet was never fun with a sonic, it tended to leave you rattled and Paz had managed to gently coax the other into the shower after a day when the funk of his kute started to layer.

Not something he was used to from the beroya, the covert as a people used to wearing armor all the time were hygienic by necessity, no one wanted to smell like a hutt on a warm day after all. But with the lack of his child, Din…

Well, he ate, he drank, sparred with either him, Fennec or Fett with a tad of coaxing and he moved on his own, Paz wasn’t going to ask for miracles.

Helping the other shower hadn’t been bad either.

They both kept on their helmet and shorts, both of them a tad awkward over the nudity despite Paz desire to court the other. But with the shorts on, it was easier, carefully washing Din’s back, arms, chest and legs.

The only strange time had been when Paz lingered on the others scent and bonding glands, Din turning still beneath his touch as Paz fingertips stroked slowly over the warm, slightly swollen areas.

Paz had wondered then, if he took of his helmet, would Din have too?

But the moment had passed and Paz had quietly pulled back, telling Din that he was stepping out so Din could wash his hair on his own.

Having removed his helmet for his child, well, as Paz said, the foundlings were the future. To remove it now…

Din would have to figure out his own balance, his own stride and path.

Just like Paz was doing.

The Covert, their covert, was no more, they had to start anew and coming out into the world, Paz had learned there were more options, more ways of being a mandalorian. Ways that seemed… not easier but maybe more fulfilling?

It would certainly make touch starvation easier to handle he mused to himself as he tipped his head up to rinse the soap out of his hair, hearing the beep of his timer. That meant there was five minutes left of water.

Best rinse everything, so he didn’t have to take a sonic too.

Mentally sighing, Paz worked swiftly, rinsing out all soap from skin and hair, rubbing at his curling hair.

Then he paused, the tight curls of his hair around his fingers, the image of Din sitting on the bed, Paz in front of him on the floor, letting Din braid his hair. The image made his mouth dry, staring thoughtlessly at the shower tiles as the water continued spraying down on him.

It was a… domestic thought and image and Paz could swear he could almost feel Din’s hands in his hair, the omega’s slender hands would be good for braiding, he’d seen the other do it for some of the younglings of the covert sometimes.

Gentle fingers, low humming of a battle song, Paz leaning back into the touch he could almost feel despite being in the shower, the scene so real in his head.

Paz let his eyes close, savoring the mental image even as his mind didn’t provide Din a face.

He knew enough to know that Din’s skin was a beautiful and natural tan from his hands and that he had rich brown hair that was at least long enough to curl around his ears, the hairs left om the hairbrush giving him that info.

The details of the other’s face was left vague, but his voice, the feel of gentle but skilled fingers, the touch of calluses from weapon training…

Beroya = Bounty Hunter

Does Paz know Din has removed his helmet in Need for touch?

Din exists.

Its the easiest way to explain his current behavior, not that anyone expected better. Hell, Paz had honestly worried it be a lot worse, dam’s that lost their kits, willingly or not, would often enter depressive episodes.

The fact that Din slept, woke up, used the fresher and ate without too much prompting was something he would not take for granted, even as he often found himself holding the others hand or tucking the omega into his own bulk to provide whatever comfort he could give.

A lot of omegas lost interest in life at the loss of a child, their packs often becoming more caretakers than family during the time it took for the person to heal.

If they healed.

Paz didn’t allow his mind to linger on that thought, Din had always been strong and Paz couldn’t let himself believe that Din strength would fail him now. That he would fade away from life.

It hurt to think.

Which was why Paz focus was on Din and Din alone.

Slave 1 wasn’t a spacious ship with four people on, Fett of course having his own quarters and Shand what went for a ‘guest’ quarters. Thankfully, recognizing the need, Fett had also arranged for a room Paz suspected had once been a weapon room for the two mandalorians, giving them privacy.

Not that he seemed to like leaving Din alone with Paz in his current situation but it was clear by the way Din clung to the alpha that he needed Paz.

So he and Din shared bunk and sheets, the two wrapped up in each other.

Mostly, Paz slept with Din covered up under his bulk, his helm pressed to the others back or his chin touching the back of Din’s helmet. Sometimes however, Din opted to curl up on Paz chest, pressing his head to Paz collarbone.

The sensation of another person, not in armor, was a luxury and Paz wasn’t quite sure what to feel about getting it on a ship that did not belong to the covert.

But, seeing as Boba and Din were starting to smell of each other, of the foundation of a pack, he didn’t complain.

Especially not when Fett had given them a door that could lock.

Currently, they were on their way to Tatooine, something about settling old scores according to the scarred alpha, a feral look in his eyes as he mentioned someone called Jabba’s palace.

The planet and person’s name had roused Din slightly, his hand tightening on Paz as he quietly murmured that he had a few jobs there.

If asked, Paz would say he was grateful he had never meet this Jabba character from what Shand and Fett filled him in on.

But…

A palace, overthrowing the ones that had it, taking over a cartel…

Paz had to admit, it was a good idea, it would certainly be a distraction for Din. Because for all that he simply existed instead of lived, Din could still fight as their sparring in the cargo hold some days proved.

Work out a bit of rage, maybe some sadness and maybe Din would finally start talking again.

Din tried but…

Paz understood.

He really did, it was why he simply held onto Din’s hand during the day or wrapped his arm around the others waist and during the night, wrapped himself around Din’s body.

Like tonight, laying on the bed in one of those few days Din decided to curl up on Paz chest.

Absently stroking the others warm back, staring at the dark ceiling without a thought in his head, Paz almost jumped when Din suddenly spoke.

“I took my helmet off.” He whispered.

Paz pressed his hand to Din’s spine, his mind taking in the words before he directed his arms to wrap slowly around Din’s tense body, the large shirt the beroya was borrowing for sleep shifting under his touch. “Our way is not the Only Way.” He stated slowly, uncertainly. It had been one of the stranger things he had been required to accept when he got out of the covert, meeting other mandalorians and he was already aware that Din had removed his helmet.

Dune had informed him, both on a planet called Morak and on the moff’s ship and why Din had removed his helmet.

So far, none of the other mandalorians he had meet followed the same Way as their covert did and Paz wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, what it said about not only their alor but also their Armorer, for teaching the Way as they did.

If there were other interpretations, that meant there were other ways to live, easier ways.

Not that Paz was sure about them, the way he had been raised fighting against the new things he had seen.

Paz felt Din nod into his collarbone. “Meet some of them… Boba says he’s not mandalorian but… by birth he is…” He trailed off.

Sighing softly, hugging Din tightly, Paz rumbled softly. “If you expect me to judge you verd’ika, that is not my place. Not when I’m so lost myself.” He stated softly, feeling Din body go even tenser and then lax against his chest.

Nuzzling their heads together in a light mirshmure’cya, Paz thought it over as Din played with the lose opening of Paz shirt.

“If you want to know what I think about you removing your helmet however,” Din went ramrod stiff in his arms, even as Paz started rubbing his back slowly in their dark, makeshift room. “I would tell you that foundlings are the future, it is for them we sacrifice. So in my eyes… you are our beroya, more honorable than most can imagine, worth your weight in beskar.” He rumbled reverently as he continued slowly rubbing.

He felt Din hold his breath, saw him through the dim view of his helmet that the omega lifted his head so their visors meet.

For a long moment they simply stared at each other, Din waiting on Paz to tell him he was lying and Paz simply waiting on Din to accept what he had said.

Finally, Din let out a tired, but relieved little sob and flopped back down, pressing his body warm helmet to Paz shoulder.

Din had been crying more this last week than Paz imagined he ever had before, but this was a different sort of crying than the heartbroken one.

This was the cries of someone that had found balm for their heart, for something that had been weighing on their mind.

“Gar cuyir oyayc, Ni cuy’ olar. Ni’ cuy’ olar.” Paz rumbled, hoping that tomorrow would bring Din more succor for his soul and troubled mind.

Beroya = bounty hunter

Verd’ika = Little soldier

Mirshmure’cya = Keldable kiss or headbutt, can be affectionate or violent

Gar cuyir oyayc, Ni cuy’ olar = you are alive, I am here.

Ouch, NeedForTouch has poor DIn going through the wringer! But I’m glad Paz showed up when he did – Din needs to be able to let it out, instead of just ghosting thru existence. Maybe now that Paz is in the picture, Din will be more willing (once he’s a bit less traumatized by the loss of his kit) to really approach Boba about becoming truly family, instead of just a «maybe packmate»? So it won’t be left it to chance whether or not Boba would ever treat him like family because he FEELS like it.

Drawing his hand gently over Din’s chest, Paz pressed his palm to the warmth, listening quietly as he felt the steady beat of Din’s heart and his slow breathing.

Asleep.

Fully and deeply asleep, an exhausted sleep from his emotional overturn the night before.

Still, despite being reassured by how asleep Din was, Paz very slowly and very gingerly pulled away from the omega. He was terrified of waking the exhausted man, Din needed to sleep, even without seeing the others face, Paz had noticed the exhaustion in the slump of the others shoulders and body the day before.

Thankfully, Din barely reacted to Paz pulling away, only going as far as muttering softly and curling into the warm spot the alpha left behind, snuffling softly.

It made Paz heart ache a bit as he watched the other, wishing he could see the others face, stroke his hair, give him everything the other deserved.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Paz quietly moved to the fresher to do his business and then made his way out of the house. He wanted to find some decent breakfast for Din before he woke, something warm would be nice.

He knew that Din liked spicy things but he wasn’t sure that eating spicy things in the morning, especially after the breakdown Din had last night and the last couple of days of emotional turmoil would be so good.

Din needed something nourishing, filling but not too powerful in case his appetite had declined. ‘Eggs would be good, not sure I can get him to eat meat though, so no sausage… maybe an omelet and some warm bread rolls?’ Paz mused as he stepped out, not bothering putting on his armor or bringing his blaster canon for a quick food run, as naked as that made him feel.

He did bring his blaster and viroblade though as he stepped into the grey morning light of Nevarro, the temperature making his skin break out in goosebumps as it was fairly cold right before the sun rose fully.

Paz was fairly grateful that he took at least some weapons with him as the moment the door closed behind him, he heard the telltale click of a blaster safety being removed to his side, a blaster pressing into his side.

If someone was angling for a fight, Paz would give them it.

Paz tilted his head to look, pausing slightly when he looked at Boba Fett through his visor as the clone of Jango Fett stared back at him.

No, not just clone.

Son.

Paz, despite his buir grumbling about Jango Fett in his youth, knew enough to recognize that Boba Fett had been a son and not just a clone, fodder for the old Republic’s army.

Unaltered and pure, an alpha.

One that currently was holding a blaster to Paz side and if Paz wasn’t wrong, the sniper was on top of the roof, rifle likely angled down at him.

So, he kept still if tense, simply stared at Fett, recognizing that this was Din’s friend.

With both the sniper and the knowledge that this person was someone Din trusted, who was willing to protect him, Paz would give him the benefit of doubt, despite the blaster pressed into his side.

For a long minute, neither of them said anything in the grey light of Nevarro’s rising sun.

Then Fett spoke. “If you hurt him, I will feed you to the same sarlaac I once ended up in with your hamstrings slit, you will wish I killed you by the time its done with you. Do you understand me?” He growled faintly, his vocoder making the sound even more menacing than a normal alpha growl.

Paz cocked his head slightly, fighting the urge to growl back before nodding. “If I hurt him, I’d do the deed myself. He’s hurt enough.” He agreed quietly, holding his ground as Fett continued staring at him, could feel the other alpha’s narrowed eyes behind the green buy’ce as sweat started to bead on the back of Paz neck.

Finally, Fett grunted and tucked his blaster onto his belt, nodding slightly. “I wager he’s still asleep?” The man questioned.

Paz nodded. “There’s only water and some bland rations in the house, I wanted to find something better for him to eat. And return before he wakes up alone, he’s rather deeply asleep but I still want to hurry.” The statement was meet with an approving grunt before Fett nodded his head and started walking.

Taking the hint, Paz followed the other, noting the dark shape jumping down from the roofs and wandering of.

He had been right, the sniper had been on the roof as he suspected.

Fett lead him to his ship in the docking bay, up the ramp and into the cargo hold, the man digging around in a crate as Paz looked around, throwing a sealed pouch at him, Paz automatically catching it and tilting it to read. “…Cassius tea?” He rumbled quietly.

“Din deserves comfort food, cassius tea is also good for health,” Fett stated absently before moving to another crate. Honestly, Paz was more shocked that the bounty hunter had proper mandalorian tea if he was honest, even as he caught the next bag Fett threw at him. “Mealgrains with dried varos fruit. Its going to be enough to get him going at least, especially if you’re considering getting some eggs?” Paz could hear the silent question in those words and nodded quietly.

His nod was meet with another approving grunt. “Do you know where I could source some egg? Or any food?” He questioned.

He had been thinking of asking Karga, he seemed fond of Din and important in town. If Paz remembered right, the man had run or still ran the bounty hunter guild. “Dune, she’s the marshal in town and she was part of the rescue team, I imagine she’d be happy to help for the verd’ika’s sake.” Fett rumbled.

Pausing slightly, Paz furrowed his brows. “…Dune…” He questioned slowly, he had to admit, he had been more focused on Din. “That’s the one with the muscled arms, right?” Paz was sure that was the name of the woman he had spoken with last night.

Thankfully, Fett nodded, Paz letting out a relieved noise that he remembered right.

‘Just stay asleep a little bit longer Din, there be some decent grubb for you when you wake up.’ Paz promised mentally, turning and heading down the ramp to find the marshal office, hoping Dune was already awake.

Buy’ce = Helmet

Verd’ika = Little soldier

Din needs some comfort in Touch. Paz will help, right?

The other’s body feels so small under him.

Its not that Din really is small but compared to Paz, he has always been smaller and he’s making himself smaller in this moment as he’s quivering, legs twitching and his breathing hitched as he shudders through half stifled sobs into the sheets.

His adiik is gone.

When the Armorer had contacted Paz, given him Din trajectory, Paz hadn’t been sure what to think. After Nevarro, after being exposed, after Din had stolen the adiik and the covert exposing themselves so obviously, they all fled with only a smaller guard kept behind to ensure the Imperials wouldn’t find the others.

A suicide mission, the people who took it had known that the likelihood of surviving it was smaller than a porg’s asshole.

Ships, normally stashed away in hidden caves and unused areas, were used to flee into the stars, some taking the foundlings and others going alone, everyone leaving their own trail or extinguishing them depending on if they were leading the Imperial trackers after them or trying to hide the younglings.

After all, they’d rather have the remains of the Empire tracing after the lone warriors and not the foundlings. The Armorer had stayed, everyone knew she would have, to try and scavenge what remained and try to keep the beskar in their hands as best she could.

It had been months and in all those months, trying cautiously to make contact with other mandalorians without attracting attention and surviving, Paz had spent the months thinking about Din and the quiet moments in the alcove, with of Din’s shaking body tucked in his lap, the tired grumble through the vocoder and the tiny traces of scent Paz had caught in the moment.

Paz had thought about the moments later, the way the soured scent had turned even softer with the adiik in his arms, the way Din’s arms had been protectively wrapped around the foundling that night.

The way it had looked right.

And now that foundling was gone once more.

There was a reason, a reason even Paz could understand, but for an omega, that had bonded to their child, to give them up despite knowing it was for their own protection…

It hurt.

Din was hurting so much when Paz had finally managed to track the other down on Slave 1.

He had barely noticed when Fett and the others had leveled blasters his way when he had come tearing over Nevarro’s sand, hadn’t cared as he had called for the stumbling man standing in the sun.

Honestly, it was good Din had friends, friends willing to shoot a beskar covered infantryman.

He had needed someone, especially after the covert was destroyed and they had all fled to each their corner of the galaxy.

Maybe they would have shot Paz if Din hadn’t recognized and been conscious enough to call Paz name back, Fett visibly twitching at the name Vizla but holstering his blaster still, the group watching as Paz pulled Din into his arms and the omega just folded against his chest.

Paz hadn’t cared at the time how close he had gotten to being shot, just so relieved to see Din at all, he had found the remains of the Razor Crest and at the time he had thought…

He had thought…

Dune had explained, Din leaning exhaustively against Paz chest, hands holding weakly onto the cuirasse. Paz couldn’t blame him, after everything he had gone through, from his the adiik being abducted, the hunt for information, to Gideon to the Jedi coming, ensuring their survival.

Only to return empty handed in the end.

No adiik.

A wound cutting deep and hard.

Karga had set them up with a place, the beta was fond of Din apparently and had understood that Din needed space, the scent of distressed omega curling around everyone as Din had run out of scent blockers with the destruction of the Crest and Fett had none, the alpha needing none himself and Shand being a beta herself.

It was a decent space, one where Paz took care of Din, carefully removing all his armor except the helmet before removing his own armor, guiding Din into his side as they sat on the bed.

Without the armor, Din was even smaller, just like that time in the alcove and the longer he sat against Paz, the more his body shook until low, hitched noises escaped him.

Paz wasn’t the others alpha, not really for all that he wanted but he was a packmate, despite them not bonding as deep as they should.

And with his heart in his stomach, shattering at every hitched sound, he had taken a chance and gently pressed Din down on the bed, covering the other up with his own body.

Just hoping, hoping he was providing some comfort as he eased himself to cover up Din as best he could.

A physiological thing, Paz acting like a weighted blanket with pheromones as he tried to sooth and with the way Din had latched onto his kute, Paz knew that at the very least Din wanted him to stay.

But to listen to him sob under his helmet, pressing his own to the back of Din’s as he shook and twitched, it was breaking Paz soul and the alpha in him whined helplessly.

He wanted to help but could do nothing more but hold the other, crooning quietly as Din cried and cried and cried for a adiik he had given away.

Paz had never felt so useless and so helpless as in this moment.

Brushing his hand along Din’s side, as if gentling an animal, Paz crooned deeply. “I’m here Din. I’m here.” He whispered.

It was the only thing he could offer the omega, he couldn’t offer that things would be alright, he couldn’t offer to get the kid, he couldn’t offer anything but himself. But Manda, if it helped, then that was what he’d give.

All of himself.

He might have imagined it, but Din’s noises seemed to have grown slightly quieter as Din tucked himself even more under Paz body, his shaking not as severe.

Maybe he wasn’t as useless as he feared.

Paz! Get your ass to Din’s side, he needs you so much in Need for touch. So saaad

Nevarro.

The place where it all began.

Watching Cara step down the ramp to meet with Greef, Din blearily tilted his head to look around, taking in how little had changed since the last time he was there.

Sand and sun with the mid-morning heat making everyone lazy, that was all there was with a scattering of people that weren’t taking naps to avoid the worst of the sun.

He only half noticed Greef jerking to in surprise, could feel the beta’s eyes on him. Greef had after all known what Din was from the get go, he had been there when Din returned from a hunt, fresh from his presentation.

He had also been the one to give Din not only scent blockers but also suppressors.

Just long enough to keep Din stable, so he could get his own supply, gruffly stating that Din was one of his best hunters and he’d rather not have anything happen to him.

Concern hidden by his desire for value, not that Din back then had been able to see it, he had been too worried about Greef using the information somehow.

Now he knew that Greef Karga was a friend and in that moment, he had a need for friends.

His eyes landed on the statue of the IG-11, his heart jumping a bit.

Kuiil and it had been the first ones to sacrifice themselves for Grogu, the first ones who had died for him to protect him as far as Din knew.

But knowing how old Grogu was, there was a large chance that they had not been the first.

They were the first since Grogu became his ward.

The ward he had to give away, the foundling that had become…

His scent must have twisted, because suddenly Boba was there, pressing their arms together as he rumbled to him.

His maybe packmate.

Boba and Shand were going to Tatooine, they had only stopped in Nevarro to drop Cara off and resupply since this was a safer place than most to them.

Mostly thanks to Cara.

There wasn’t really much for him anymore, his covert was gone, his pack was scattered if they had survived, his ship was destroyed and even his kit was now in the hands of another because Din could not protect him from the remains of the Empire.

Going with Boba, leaving behind the memories of what was here on Nevarro despite knowing he had a place in Greef bounty hunter guild… well, it sounded like the better option.

Boba was angling to overthrow what was left of the hutt cartel on Tatooine, not that the hutts were that strong thanks to the Empire.

They hadn’t let the hutts keep a strong threshold on the galaxy.

Looking at it, it was almost like the Empire had been trying to wipe out most of the other species of the galaxy unless they had some kind of use, making humanity its core. Getting rid of those that were combative, like the mandalorians and lasats and then moving on to those it thought of as scum with no worth.

‘Not that I’ve ever meet a decent hutt in my life.’ Din mused tiredly, wondering if there were decent hutts in the galaxy.

Tatooine, with the tuskens, sounded like a far better option. Maybe he could visit White Bantha, the clan he had lived with for a while, Boba respected the tuskens as much as Din did and wouldn’t mind if Din wander- “Djarin!”

A loud, familiar voice called out, almost echoing between the buildings and Din’s heart leapt to his throat from the sheer shock of hearing it.

He looked around almost spastically, eyes wide behind his visor before his eyes landed on the all too recognizable blue armor.

Paz.

It was Paz, stepping out from between two white buildings, his gait rushed and his helmet locked on Din with such focus he could almost feel the intensity of the gaze behind the visor.

Alive, Paz was alive.

A sob unwittingly escaped Din at the sight, the sound garbled to static by the vocoder of his helmet as he stepped forward on shaking legs, feeling like a newborn colt.

Unnoticed by him, Boba, Shand, Cara and Greef had leveled their weapons at Paz, only to pause when Din called back. “Vizla!” Din called out, crashing into Paz large chest, feeling those thick arms coming up around him in a familiar embrace. “Paz, Paz he’s gone. He’s gone. I gave him away. Paz.” He sobbed out, his knees giving out from under him as he clung to the others cuirass.

Paz rumbled loudly, shifting his arms around Din to support him. “Din. Din you need to calm down. Udesii, udesii beroya.” The blue armored man finally just outright lifted him.

Another time, Din would have marveled at the display of strength, another time he would have flushed and maybe squirmed.

He wasn’t a light man after all, especially not in his armor.

But that was not now as he lifted his legs to wrap around the alpha’s waist, right now he was baring his soul to his alor and maybe someone who was more. Right now he needed Paz to be both comfort and judgment, even if the latter didn’t seem to be inclined to judge anything and Din didn’t seem to be able to explain himself well.

“My kit is gone.” Din admitted weakly what he hadn’t wanted to admit before.

That Grogu had become not only his foundling but his kit, his child in all but blood.

Blood of the covenant is stronger than water of the womb.

It was something he had heard his buir say once, holding Din tightly to his chest with his chin resting on Din’s curly head and now he understood what it had meant.

Paz stiffened, his arms going almost painfully tight around Din before he crooned, deep in his chest and so loudly it rattled Din’s helmet.

But it felt good to hear and Din pressed his audial to the others cuirass, breaking down into wordless but loud crying.

The kind of crying he had not allowed himself in Boba’s den but right now, in Paz arms…

He would let himself cry over Grogu, cry over the unfairness of the galaxy, cry over his own inability to keep his pup safe.

Cry for the covert.

And maybe, somewhere in those tears, he was crying for himself and everything he had lost as Paz held him together.

Udesii = Calm down

Beroya = Bounty hunter

Alor = Captain

Buir = parent

Heyyyy Moddy my dear who ate the key from a keyboard. Can we have a bit of Din using the silks in his nest? Just a soft thing where he happily is making the nest but is a bit of a brat in not letting his alphas in.

Not unexpectedly but utterly enraging for his two alphas were the fact that the drugs he had been slipped had messed with Din’s heat and hormones, the omega slipping between normality and a faux heat from day to day without warning.

Din could be fine one minute and in the next he could bloom with a sweet smell, his body jittering as if too full of energy, though, thankfully in Din’s eyes, he had yet to leak slick in public.

He didn’t think he could handle the humiliation if it happened again while he was fully aware if he was honest, not that Paz or Boba blamed him.

Paz and Din had actually been lucky that it hadn’t happened while they were down at the markets, Din’s hormones having quelled themselves for those first few days after the drugs had run out.

But after the back pain had faded, the hormones had risen, sharp and furious, as if the delay had made Din’s body angry at itself.

Their medic, Russal, had of course checked on Din when the first faux heat happened.

What he had found had alarmed the usually so nervous omega and he had actually hunted down the trio of his own volitional, entering the private territory of two big alphas to tell them what was up, to warn them that Din’s normal heat had been effected by the drugs and that the damage could potentially be permanent.

They would have to wait the month out, for Din’s hormones to once more settle and go back into their natural schedule as there was nothing Russal could actually do for Din’s hormone production in that moment.

Only once Din’s body calmed down would Russal could tell if there was permanent damage due to the drug that had been intended for an alpha having been slipped to an omega, especially in as high a dose as Din had consumed.

With that knowledge in mind, the month slowly started sliding forward as Paz and Boba kept a close eye on their mate.

It was hell on Din, the omega often shifting from quite normal to horny, to snappish, to weepy in moments and he wanted his kit more than anything, the urge to go find Grogu strong.

His mates was an up and down situation, sometimes he clung to either alphas like one of those weird bears from Naboo with the gray fur.

Other times he’d snarl at the slightest of touch and one particularly bad day, he had lashed out and almost jabbed Paz with his vibroblade under the helmet.

He had instantly dropped to his knees after realizing what he’d almost done to one of his beloved alphas and started weeping, loud and heart wrenching as he went into a sudden omega drop, the sound of his sobs crackling through his vocoder.

The drop had sent both Boba and Paz alpha instincts into overdrive, their rage mixed with concern and need to protect and shield so strong their scent had sent everyone, even Fennec, out of the throne room in seconds.

After that, they decided that Din should remain in their quarters as much as he possible, especially in the morning so they could figure out if he was in one of the faux heats or not before he saw other people.

His heat schedule being out of sync along with his hormones fluctuating as they were meant that Din’s instincts were also effected.

Everyone of them.

Which meant that Boba and Paz could come back to Din rearranging their nest almost compulsively, often having been at it for hours from the look of it. It had gotten so bad in the beginning that Paz or Boba would ensure at least one of them ate with Din, even when he was upset and the last thing he actually wanted was an alpha around him.

Just to make sure he did eat, even if they had to sit out in the sitting room with Din in their nest.

Normally Din’s nesting behavior was adorable, Boba and Paz enjoying watching Din add and fluff material around but in his current state, it just reminded them that Din was not in a good state of mind and neglect himself.

It made both of them wish the karking noble was still alive, just so they could kill him slowly once more.

Still, watching Din tuck the silk blankets he and Paz had bought was nice, watching Din nuzzle down into it and rub his scent on them, enjoying the softness and comfort it brought their lanky mate.

Of course, it was even nicer when he made demanding noises, staring at either alphas until they entered the nest and added their own scent to said blankets.

With them being as new as they were, there wasn’t much scent on it yet after all.

It had simply smelled of textile and the detergent used to clean them.

Now they smelled of Din and his mates, smelled of warmth and mates and comfort and a slight scent of sourness as Din grew distressed from time to time.

It was a long month for all of them.

But finally, after the mother of all meltdowns, to the point Din had isolated himself in his nest for two days where Paz had almost pulled out his dreads in worry and Boba had ended up sleeping on the couch on the sitting room, the month mark finally hit and Din’s scent started to even out.

To the point where he was just mellow, curled up in bed on top of Paz chest while clinging to Boba’s hand, desperate to keep contact with both at the same time.

Boba had just left Fennec in charge for the day, pushing off several meetings, his mates coming before anything even as they informed Russal that they’d be by later in the night.

Seeing Din finally back in his own comfort zone, purring quietly under their touch as he scented either… well, it was doing both alphas a galaxy of good.

“Ni ceta…” Din whispered quietly.

Paz just dropped a kiss to the top of Din’s head and Boba ran his free hand up to the others cheek, rubbing the apple of it lightly. “There is nothing to forgive. You didn’t ask for your hormones to be affected.” He stated, perhaps a bit tiredly but smiling all the same.

Din made a low noise but didn’t deny it even if he clearly still felt repentant.

“You can make it up by making some of that no bake cake for us, if you really wanna say sorry.” Paz chuckled quietly, equally tired but happy.

That got a low snort out of Din, the omega nuzzling into his neck. “I swear, you think with your stomach.” He huffed fondly, both alphas chuckling.

“I won’t say no to that cake though.” Boba agreed, smiling at the amused noise and purr coming from their mate, pressing closer to Paz side.

He was determined to enjoy the quiet, for however long it would last.

Translation:

Ni Ceta = Formal apology