The King of Tatooine was frustrated.

Oh, it wasn’t obvious, Boba was dealing with the aftermath of an assassination attempt with barked orders and delegating his guards around, the remaining assassin already brought down to the dungeon for proper questioning.

But Din could tell, even with the helmet on and the rest of the armor.

Boba was frustrated.

It was in the short, barked orders, the tone of his voice, the way his glove creaked around the leash in his grasp.

Initially he didn’t get it, followed his buir’ika closely, a bit uncertain. Maybe Boba was upset with him for killing the assassins?

Did he think it made him look weak, to have his ‘slave’ killing those that would come for him. Did Boba think that Din should have just warned it so Boba could take care of it on his own?

But then it hit him, when Boba raised his hand and squeezed his hip for a moment in a proprietary touch.

Boba liked what Din had done.

He found it arousing, watching Din take care of would be killers, dressed in silk and lace, cracking a neck with his bare foot.

He had liked watching Din behave practically feral and maybe he liked it just as much when Din instantly submitted to him after. The way Din had slid his leash back into the others hand, stepped down when Boba told him to.

At the very least, Boba had liked him killing in silk and lace.

If Din’s other suspicions were right, he’d find out later but for now… he abused the knowledge he had gained.

He rubbed lightly up against Boba, brushed his fingertips where he knew the kute and armor didn’t cover, little neck touches or low on the waist. Or teasing at where the kute was, knowing the muscles would feel him rubbing.

Riling the other up even more, frustrating Boba as he was busy working and therefore couldn’t touch Din right now.

He was riling his buir’ika on purpose now, excitement coiling low in his stomach.

Boba always took care of him, was nice or stern depending on what Din needed.

In the beginning, he had needed both the stick and the carrot as Boba had said, a mix of punishment and reward, Din’s heart broken in so many ways.

He knew that he’d see Grogu again, but to be separated from his child, despite the updates Luke Skywalker sent to his comms…

It wasn’t the same.

His heart was bleeding without his child and he had needed Boba, needed to not think.

And Boba had given him it, in spades, first by giving Din missions on Tatooine, keeping the beroya and the hunter in Din alive and later on with his hands warm and rough and then soft and caring between it all.

The look of absolute fury on Boba’s face when Din had cauterized a thigh wound was something Din would never forget, but it was the disappointment that had hurt more. Boba had dealt with him after, once his thigh wound was properly healed.

Din would rather not be pulled over Boba’s lap again, his ass had burned and not in the pleasurable way but at least he had learned that spanking wasn’t his thing and Boba had learned that Din knew when to use his safe words.

Green, yellow and red were very useful.

The bacta on his ass afterward too, Boba’s dom drop easing out as Din cuddled in after his ass was cooling down. Both speculated that Din, due to his years in armor, was oversensitive and maybe, maybe in a few years, he could handle spanking, but that was not now.

But there were other ‘punishments’ that Din enjoyed and it was clear that Boba was getting closer and closer to snapping.

And he did when Din let his hand run along the others thigh, inching towards the inside only for his hand to be grabbed, beskar chain and leather glove pressing into the back of his hand. Before he could complain, Boba reached up his other hand and wrapped it around the back of Din’s neck.

It was heavy, restraining and Boba pressed his thumb against the side of Din’s neck, lightly cutting of the flow of blood.

It made Din slightly lightheaded. “Everyone, clear out. We’re done for the day.” Boba growled out, moving towards the dais before anyone had taken a step, stepping behind the throne and towards their room.

Boba had clearly had enough of Din being bratty.

“Bratty Princess,” He hissed softly as they entered, unhooking the beskar leash to throw it onto a chair, pushing Din further towards their large bed. “I was going to reward you, being such a beautiful little hunter, but you had to be a little brat, didn’t you.” He seethed but when his helmet came off, Din could see the amusement and excitement in the others amber eyes.

Boba had liked this too, Din acting out, being clingy and touchy, it had turned his steady buir’ika into something much darker and needier too.

“Buir’ika.” He whined, only to shut up when Boba lifted a hand.

“Undress, now.” Boba sternly ordered, his eyes flickering over the blood staining Din’s outfit.

Fair enough, blood in their bed wasn’t fun, but Din still whined and squirmed petulantly, wanting to be a problem for some reason until Boba reached out and caught his chin in a hard grip, leather glove rubbing abrasively. “Princess, you’re already getting a punishment, don’t push me into taking away your orgasm too.” He hissed, eyes narrowed as he peered up at Din.

Whelp, that got Din moving, chucking his babydoll and stockings, shivering happily when he heard Boba laugh darkly at the speed he was removing his clothes.

Standing on one foot, rolling the second stocking down, Din did not expect it when Boba suddenly pushed at his shoulder, yelping and pinwheeling as he fell back on the bed with a cry before whining loudly when Boba grabbed his leg and ripped the stocking off, throwing it over his shoulder.

Boba paused then, eyeing Din as he pressed a kiss to the younger man’s knee. “Color sweetheart.” He whispered.

“Green.” Din whimpered with need, shuddering and yelping with surprise when he got a predatory smirk before Boba bit hard at the inside of his thigh, intent to leave behind marks others would see and know.

The intent and sensation, hurting initially and then trailing off to a throb that fit with the beat of his heart had Din whimpering, grabbing at the sheets to hold onto something, anything. Manda, how he love Boba!

“Oh Princess, I’m going to mess you up.” Boba promised quietly against the reddening skin, chuckling darkly once more when all that promise got him was a loud, eager keen with Din arching his neck, legs spread with Boba holding one of them up.

It showed of his captured cock, hard and with a growing wet spot inside its confine of fabric, Din’s captured leg trembling like an eager fathier.

Willing and ready for everything Boba would do to him.