{Disney owns Star Wars universe and characters, not me. Warning: mild erotica. 18+ only, please.}
Din woke alone in a pool of late morning light. He could hear rustling and clatter outside, and rose to freshen up and get dressed.
Fuleen was hard at work packing a levitating cart with crates, baskets, and jugs. She was wearing some dingy gray coveralls and a crude tan shirt that was too big for her, a floral kerchief askew on her head. She gave the load a final shove and looked up, noticing him in the doorway. She grinned wide, panting and sweaty.
"Market day! You hungry? There's some orbok cheese porridge in the culinary unit."
He nodded and went back inside.
As he poured himself some odd, orange slop, he ruminated on all that had transpired last night. It seemed surreal to him. Had he really been… so openly affectionate? He had cuddled up to Fuleen post-coitus like it was something he'd done before. He could not remember sleeping in the same bed with a romantic partner, let alone spooning. Some brain chemical cocktail brewed in the act that preceded it must be to blame. That's all emotion really was- just chemicals.
But the sensation of being so exposed, yet safe behind the familiar confinement of his helmet was… he couldn't stop reliving it.
His shoulders tingled where Fuleen slid her hands, and he almost moved away from the kiss she planted on his cheek.
"Forgot to say, 'good morning.'"
"Uhh… good morning." He missed his helmet, now.
She frowned, taking his empty bowl and depositing it in the sink. "Did I do something wrong? Why are you being so…" she trailed off, looking at the floor.
"Ah. Yeah, alright. Shields up. I get it. Help me hitch Bax up to the cart, will you? It takes longer by myself."
He had offended her with his distance. Now he felt guilty. This is why he avoided relationships. He struggled to find words that would convince her he was still present.
"The, ah, the porridge was really good. I didn't know what to expect, but it was, like… comfortable… comfortable food?"
She laughed. "You mean comfort food? Yeah, it's bad for you. But we need the extra calories today."
Of course it was called comfort food. These are things normal beings take for granted. Comfort. Affection. Kindness. He followed her outside, noting the dirty hand prints on her backside, and smiled to himself.
Be patient with me, he pleaded silently. I want to be more… normal.
Bax was ecstatic to be tugging weight again. Fuleen let him wander and run freely on the farm, but he was never happier than when showing off his immense strength. His breed was different from the fathiers they raced and gambled on; he was born stouter, more muscular, a workbeast through-and-through. He was never overworked, never whipped, always spoiled. Perhaps that's why he preferred heavy labor.
Fuleen patted his flank from her cart seat, and he snorted happily in reply.
"Don't tell Todi, but Bax is my favorite." she confided in Din. He just smiled wanly.
"Since it's market day, I was thinking, there's this clothier stall I really love, and I know the tailor. We could get you some work duds, maybe something nice to wear out on a date…"
She looked to him for a reaction, but he just had that closeted frown again.
"I spent most of my credits the night we met." he admitted. "I'm sorry… I've just been living off your hospitality these last two… three days?"
"They blend together after while out in the country, I know." She grinned at him, rocked a bit by a bump in the road.
"Don't fret, sugarpet. I'll spot you the credits. You can work it off."
She slid her hand along his thigh, then between them, and squeezed playfully. Din recoiled, face drawn in suppressed shock. Fuleen raised her hands, palms out.
"Sorry, I forget sometimes. No touch. Won't happen again."
He settled back in his seat, forcing a deadpan. She returned her attention to the road.
Then, she was surprised to find a large hand cupping her breast under her overalls. She looked back at Din, who wore a sheepish smirk.
"There he is." She grinned, placing her hand over his. "But you're going to have to behave yourself in town. If you're good, I'll reward you later."
He tweaked her nipple- eliciting a small gasp- before pulling away.
The main thoroughfare of the castle-town was devoted to stands and booths with sundry produce, meats, and other wares. The crowd of browsers parted to allow Bax's imposing ingress. It was the first time since his childhood that Din had been so publicly exposed. His skin crawled in the early afternoon sunlight.
"Will you relax? No one is even looking at you."
Din turned and stared at Fuleen incredulously. "I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to. I can tell you're uncomfortable. Even more so than usual."
"You have barely known me a day. There's no possible way you could-"
"Here we are!" she interjected, pulling Bax's reigns, and climbed down to begin setup.
She greeted marketgoers and sellers as she pulled her kit from the cart. Din followed suit to help, unease gripping at the back of his mind.
Fuleen activated the kit, returning to the cart as the booth unfolded itself. Bright green, red, and blue-striped awnings flipped open over wood-grain-painted metal shelving. By the time she had brought the first load of merchandise, it had finished fitting itself into place.
"I'd like the jogun and pta fruit separate from the antarian pea pods and the rishi corn, but all the dairy stuff can go together. That includes the eggs." she instructed Din as he brought a load of his own.
It felt so… ordinary to be doing menial labor. Yes, he had his blaster in a holster at his side, as always, but he couldn't imagine using it in such a place. The nervousness he felt wasn't his usual predator's instinct- always on guard for potential threats. He just felt like a transplant. Abnormal among all these laid-back folk. There was a void of hostility, and that didn't feel right at all. It was the main reason he hadn't returned to the shrimper village on Sorgan.
There was a moment, back then, when he had considered it, though. And Kuiil's lifestyle, "free from service," drew his thoughs often. It might be nice to try such a life, see how he liked it. He had made no commitments, signed no contracts. He could don the beskar and leave whenever he wanted.
Maybe as soon as he could afford another ship.
Farming alone might not be enough for that.
"Alright! That's everything! C'mere, Dinny. This should be enough for a couple outfits." Fuleen's tone was curt, almost unfriendly.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asked cautiously, taking a small fabric sack of credits from her.
"No, nothing at all. Go, be free. I'll put Bax away and mind the booth."
Din stepped closer and leaned over the booth, closer to Fuleen, fixing her with a searching stare.
"What do you mean by 'be free?' Why did you choose those words?"
She backed away from him, eyes widened. "I don't know. I just… the booth is set up, I don't need you, anymore."
"You didn't need me before. I'm assuming that if I wasn't here, you'd have done all this yourself."
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Sellers cried their wares and prices. Customers haggled and discussed shopping lists. Patrons began to eye Fuleen's wares.
"We'll talk about it later." she said in a low voice, eyes narrowed. "Raula has a clothing booth four down on the opposite row that way." she nodded to her right, his left.
Din shoved away from the booth, clutching the sack of credits and striding off.
The tailor was a pushy old Ardennian with a heavy accent, who insisted on using all four arms to take his measurements. This involved some rather inappropriate touching in multiple uncomfortable areas simultaneously. Din glanced around at passersby, embarrassed.
Raula fitted him with three outfits for the credits he was given, two sets of work duds and a nicer- yet casual- outfit consisting of a blue vest, cream shirt, and brown pants. She also threw in two pairs of boots that fit fairly well. He returned to Fuleen's booth with two bulging fabric bags.
She was smiling and bowing to a customer as they complimented her offerings, but the smile wilted when her eyes met Din's. She turned to bag a purchase, avoiding him. He pursed his lips and stepped behind the shelves to store his bags.
When he came back, Fuleen was readjusting produce on the other side of the display, but she had left a list of products with prices next to them. He "hmf"'ed and set about memorizing it, shortly before an Ithorian requested a jug of milk and a dozen eggs via an electronic translator.
The rest of the day passed this way, a tingling gap between them, an iciness to both their demeanors. All of the dairy section sold, but several ears of corn and some peas remained. These Fuleen packed away with unnecessary force. Din had to jump out of the way when she activated the booth's compacting sequence while he was still in it.
"It's later." he announced, once the cart was packed again. "Are you going to tell me, now?"
"Tell you what?" she asked flippantly, feeding an ear of corn to Bax.
He moved closer, voice lowered. "Tell me about your ability to-"
She hissed, clamping a hand over his mouth. She stared him down, golden eyes stern.
"There are some things you must never mention in public. Everyone comes here to start over; have a chance to be someone else. Everyone here is running from something. This is Maz's safe haven. It's a good life. I don't want to leave. I'm sorry that I… I can't help it sometimes." She lowered her voice to the barest whisper, "I'll try not to listen in from now on, but your head is just so gods-damned loud."
"I KNEW it." he exhaled into her hand, his whisper not quite as quiet, and she shushed him again.
"We can discuss this after my shift tonight." she said at normal volume. She was slow in removing her hand, and Din took it in his, kissing her verdant palm. His brow furrowed.
"What am I supposed to do while you're… working?"
Fuleen pulled her hand away, turning to take Bax's reigns.
"Psh. I don't care. You're not my slave. Go have fun… sober. Somehow."
Her shoulders were tensed, and she waited for his reply. He slid a hand around her waist, causing her to draw a quick breath.
"I don't mind what you do. As long as you enjoy doing it." he murmured into her ear. She bit her bottom lip, sighing.
"Thank you. I'll be off at 0200. You can meet me at the club, or at the stables, whichever you like."
"I may sit in on one of your sets, if that's alright."
She chuckled. "As long as you don't get wasted this time."