Feeling the hand rubbing his back as he continued coughing up what he had tried to eat, Din wondered what in the world had gone wrong.

Initially, due to his forced stomach surgery so to speak, Din had been required to go on a liquid and semi solid diet, to try and recover and adjust his body. It had been difficult but thankfully, the chefs down in Boba’s kitchen had made interesting and properly seasoned food.

But finally, after weeks of first fluid and then semi solid, Din could finally eat proper food and Boba had quite happily put spiced poultry on the meal for tonight, with fried tubers and mandalorian spice mix sauce.

Din had been looking forward to it, had been delighted that finally he would be able to chew and swallow something substantial instead of being filled with liquids.

That he would finally get to chew on something, that he’d eat something with texture.

He had dug into the small portion, eagerly chowing down but knowing he had to pace himself… and yet…

The meat had seemed to get stuck on the halfway, it was slightly dry but Din had compensated with sauce and still, the meat seemed to get stuck on the way to his stomach and Din had ended up gagging and hacking up thick saliva to begin with and then…

He couldn’t call what he was doing throwing up, not really, not when it had never really reached his stomach.

As he hung over Boba’s toilet with Boba rubbing his back and Paz and Fennec hovering outside it, Din continued regurgitating all the food he had swallowed, what little it was, into the toilet, as if he was a child with no control.

His cheeks burned with excretion and humiliation and his stomach ached unpleasantly with a muscle spasms and yet fullness.

“Easy Din, easy. Just let it come up,” Boba murmured soothingly and Din let out a pitched whine before spitting up more of the thick saliva that had come initially. “You must have eaten to fast for your body to get with the program.” Boba continued, voice full of sympathy but thankfully no pity.

Spitting again, Din trembled as he waited for his body to force more food up but thankfully, it seemed like finally, it was done setting Din through hell and he slowly sank back on his knees to look up at Boba with an exhausted look. “…I hate this.” He rasped darkly, his voice raw from the food and saliva coming up, accepting the glass of water the other handed him to swish out his mouth.

He didn’t dare try swallowing any fluids though, not when his stomach felt so oddly full and awful. What if more food came up? Or the water?

No, Din would rather not have that again.

“I know, I’m sorry Din, I know you were looking forward to this,” Boba murmured, slowly settling his hand in Din’s hair to stroke the soft curls out of his face. “I can speak with the chefs, maybe it be easier to start with meat already stationed in sauce? Like a spiced stew?” He suggested carefully.

Din grimaced but nodded at the suggestion.

It would make it easier for Din to eat and a spiced stew wasn’t the same as semi solid or liquid, it would have texture for one, with meat chunks around. “…Could…” He swallowed thickly, looking up at Boba hopefully as the other raised a brow questioningly, the gnarled scar tissue mimicking an eyebrow. “Could you ask them to use some razzer tubers, those never fully cook and… and I’d like to be able to chew on something.” Din admitted carefully.

Amber eyes softened at that and Boba knelt down, wrapping Din in a hug that the other leaned into exhaustively. “Of course. I’ll also have Greve buy in some more of those nuts you like, get a stash of them only for you that you can munch on whenever you want. That’s some nice texture.” He stated promisingly.

Swallowing thickly, fighting tears, Din pressed closer into the other, smelling warm musk and body odor of Boba. “I don’t want to make problems…” Din hesitated, even as he rested his cheek on Boba’s shoulder, pressing his forehead into the crook of his neck as he set the glass of water down on the floor beside them.

“Saleucami almonds aren’t a problem to get, especially not for me,” Boba ran his fingers through Din’s hair, his deep voice lulling Din into a blanket of security. Boba’s voice never failed to make Din feel safe when it was pitched so low and he sniffled a tad. “And even if they were, for you, it be worth it. You know Two-Dee said you had to eat several small meals to get your stomach up to snuff and to keep your weight at a good place.” The king of Tatooine stated calmly but seriously.

To that, Din didn’t have much to say, he knew that he had to eat well to remain at his weight, to keep his muscle mass but sitting here after regurgitating the first proper meal he had in weeks… he felt rather despondent if he was honest.

The hand in his hair and Boba’s warm arm around him helped a tad though, the comfort the human touch brought.

Boba did that a lot, touched Din in a gentle and slow manner, always checking that Din was comfortable with it.

Initially, it had been hard, Din hadn’t been used to it but Boba managed to get closer, eased him into accepting and liking the affectionate touches. Maybe it was that Din had always been on his own and therefore he wasn’t used to being touched outside of violence, and therefore he didn’t associate it with anything good.

But Grogu and later on Boba, had managed to remind him how nice a comforting touch from someone you trusted could be.

The other’s hands were capable of much violence, of that Din had personally witnessed, everything from being able to crack a plastoid helmet to pieces, to snapping someones neck and yet on Din, they were always gentle.

Boba had never done anything towards Din that would make him distrust him.

He had never altered a deal they had midway, he had never raised a hand towards Din or anyone he cared for and he had never taken advantage of Din’s trust to to steal or dishonor him.

No, if there was anyone beyond Grogu who Din now could trust, it would be Boba, with Fennec quickly making her way onto the list.

Paz… was a difficult subject.

He both trusted him and yet not at the same time, their shared history making it difficult at time but… maybe, with time, he could trust Paz. Their past could not be rewritten but forgiveness and time could soften the harshest of insults and blows.

For now, Din was content to curl into Boba’s warm body, the feel of scarred skin against his own smoother one a familiar and comforting sensation with the blunt fingers scratching at his scalp and nape.