"Sh." Fett leaned over him, his strong hands pinning Din to the bed. "Better keep it down, sweetheart. These tent walls are pretty thin."

Din made a thin, desperate noise in the back of his throat, panting. "Boba -"

"That's it." Fett whispered, leaning in closer and kissing Din's neck as he continued thrusting into Din's body. "That's it, Din'ika, that's it."

"I'm -" Din panted, overcome by the feeling of Fett's mouth on his neck, the sensation of cool desert air on his face. Fett's breath was hot on his neck, his calloused hands rough on Din's bare arms. Fett's body pressed against Din was all he could feel, all he could think about. Fett's skin was touching his skin in a million little places, Fett's hips pressed to Din's hips, their legs entangled, Din's hands clutching the broad muscle of Fett's shoulders. Fett was all around him, holding him tight, moaning low in his throat as he thrust deeper and deeper into Din's body.

Din couldn't speak, couldn't think. He felt as if his breath was stolen from his lungs as Fett pressed another soft kiss to his neck, the feeling so foreign yet so good, unlike anything Din had ever felt before.

"That's it." Fett repeated, tracing Din's bicep with his thumb, tucking his face against Din's neck. His nose was cold against Din's skin, the pressure of his lips so gentle that it almost tickled. Din's skin had never felt so sensitive, so alive at Fett's touch, unlike anything Din had ever felt with a lover.

Din took a shuddering breath and reached up and felt his face, startling as his hand met skin instead of beskar.

That's why it feels different. The thought hit him like a charging bantha, urgent and overwhelming.

I can't - I shouldn't -

Din tossed his head a little, his breath coming quicker. Fett hummed and looked up at him, his eyes steady and warm.

"Boba -" Din began, his voice trembling a little.

"Shh." Fett pressed a reassuring kiss to his cheek. "Shh, it's all right. It's all right."

Din panted, his heart racing. He's seen my face. He's seen my face.

"So beautiful, sweetheart." Fett murmured, kissing Din's jaw softly, reverently. "Who knew you were hiding that face all this time?"

He pressed a kiss to Din's neck, to his collarbone, humming reassuringly. He leaned in a little and thrust his hips forward, causing Din's confused thoughts to stutter to a halt.

"Boba -" He cried. "I need -"

"I got you, Din'ika." Fett said, kissing Din's neck a little higher, his words vibrating against Din's skin, echoing in Din's bones. "I got you, sweetheart."

Din woke with a start, his heart hammering. He was sweating all over, his legs trembling a little as if coming down from an adrenaline rush. He became aware of a rumbling sound under his cheek, a sound that slowly morphed into speech as he regained awareness.

"Djarin? You awake? Storm's over, we should go looking for Bane while we have night cover."

Din shook his head to clear it and shifted, raising his head from Fett's chest. "I - yeah. Yeah, I'm awake."

He took a few deep breaths to steady his pulse, climbing to his feet on trembling legs.

Fett frowned and stood up too, reaching over to place a hand on Din's arm. The light touch sent goose bumps skittering down his arms, as Din's whole body came alert. "You feeling all right?"

"Yeah." Din said, doing his best to sound confident. Stop it. He told himself, brushing away the image of Fett leaning over him, pressing soft kisses to his neck.

I got you, sweetheart. Dream-Fett's voice echoed in Din's head, causing him to shiver, his legs trembling a little at the memory.

"You sure? You look a little shaky."

"I'm fine." Din said brusquely, shaking Fett's arm off. "We better head out."

Fett watched him for a long moment before nodding. He bent to pick up his helmet from the floor and put it on, engaging the seals with a hiss.

Din felt oddly reassured at the sight of Fett's visor. It was almost like being back with other Mandalorians, with a brother or sister of the tribe. Almost, anyway. No Mandalorian Din knew, perhaps save for Bo-Katan, would remove their helmet as casually as Fett did. The sight of a beskar helmet reassured him, almost like he was back among the covert. As if all this, the attack on the covert, the Empire kidnapping Grogu, Din's exile, was all just a bad dream. Seeing Fett beside him in head to toe beskar was reassuringly familiar. With another warrior in beskar at his side, it was almost as if he wasn't alone in the galaxy, cut off from his people.

Almost. Din reached for his weapons, clipping his rifle to his back and hoisting the cannon into his arms with a groan. He's not clan. He'll never be clan. He reminded himself morosely. He's not Mandalorian, and now I'm not either. I'm not Mandalorian, and I never will be again.

Fett eyed him in concern, his helmet tilted as he watched Din struggle with the cannon. "Need a hand?"

"No." Din grunted, irritated. Sweat dripped down his neck, down his back, making his skin itch. His arms trembled a little under the strain of lifting the weapon. He could feel Fett's worried gaze as clearly as if the other man wore no helmet at all. He lifted his shoulders defensively, gripping the cannon so tightly his gloves creaked. "I'm fine."

"All right." Fett said, his tone level but unconvinced. "If you're sure."

"Yes. I'm fine." Din snapped, turning his back on Fett and striding towards the entrance of the cave. He gritted his teeth behind the helmet, irritation flickering in his chest. I don't need to be coddled. He thought bitterly. I might not be a Mandalorian anymore, but I'm not weak.

The thought of Fett seeing him as someone weak, as someone who couldn't even lift a fucking weapon, made hot anger bloom in his chest alongside the suppressed grief that he'd carried around since Morak. He's not clan, he's not my spouse, and I'll never have a tribe again. He swallowed past a lump in his throat and stopped just outside the mouth of the cave, setting the cannon down next to him.

Fett hesitated, then followed behind him. Din ignored him and looked out over the desert sands, turning on his night vision and scanning the terrain for any sign of Bane. Fett let him be, standing silently several feet away, presumably scanning the desert himself. He didn't say anything, but Din caught a glimpse in his peripheral vision of the other man glancing his way several times, his visor twitching a little. Din felt a little flash of guilt at that, and made himself turn to Fett as he finished the scan.

"I - sorry." He said, clearing his throat and pushing down the last of his irritation.

Fett looked over at him, and inclined his head. "No harm done. I'm sorry I pushed."

"We're allies. You were checking in with me." Din said, the guilt growing. "You didn't deserve that."

Fett shrugged. "Really, Djarin, it's fine. I get it. I'll give you some space, next time."

Din shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably, thrown off by Fett's easy demeanor. "Okay. Thank you."

Fett huffed a laugh, slapping Din gently on the shoulder. "Like I said. I've got your back."

Din nodded stiffly, a little embarrassed. Dream-Fett's voice echoed in his head, a soft rumble that raised the hair on his arms. I got you, Din'ika.

He cleared his throat, and gestured to the vast desert around them. "So, any sign of him?"

Fett shook his head. "Not yet. You?"

"No." Din admitted. "He might be further in the canyons, waiting to get the drop on us."

Fett tilted his head curiously. "What are you thinking?"

"He wants to wait us out, lure us in?" Din waved a hand at the canyon walls around them. "So we let him. Let him think we fell for it, get him to show himself."

Fett snorted. "You want one of us to play bait."

Din nodded. "He might know we're out here, but you might be able to stay hidden on the ridge, watch out for him while I lure him out."

"It's not a bad idea." Fett said thoughtfully. "But he'll be looking for me. You're an unknown entity. You should stay up on the ridge."

Din rolled his eyes. "Not that unknown. Word will have spread by now that I'm working for you, especially after Mos Espa."

"Still." Fett said. "He'll be suspicious if all he sees is you."

"Fine." Din agreed reluctantly. "I'll stay on the ridge, watch your back."

"Thank you. You'd better cover up the armor, though. Beskar is pretty reflective in the suns."

Din shrugged. "Got any water?"

Fett reached into the pouch on his belt and pulled out two black melons, tossing one of them to Din.

Din caught it easily and cracked it open, sinking into a low crouch on the ground and spilling a little water on the sand. Scooping up the wet sand, he plastered it to his armor, covering up the shine of his beskar. Fett watched in amusement as Din added more water to the sand, making enough muddy sand to cover his armor and helmet.

"Not bad." Fett said, shaking his head. "Got any more crazy ideas?"

Din grinned behind his helmet and climbed to his feet, suppressing a groan as his knees cracked. "A few. Got that pulse rifle?"

Fett laughed. "You think you can carry both these things up there?" He looked pointedly at Din's cannon, which lay abandoned in the sand.

Din shrugged, ignoring the burning in his muscles at the thought of hauling everything up to the top of the canyon ridge. "Sure."

Fett huffed, punching Din in the shoulder playfully. "All right."

His tone reminded Din of sparring with Paz, of the fond exasperation in his voice as he patched Din up afterwards. "Of course I'm gonna stitch you up, Djarin. Don't be an idiot."

Din swallowed past the lump that grew in his throat at the memory and knocked his shoulder into Fett's. "I've got this. You focus on drawing him out."

Fett nodded, handing Din the pulse rifle. "Should be easy enough. Bane's always hated letting his target get away."

Din slung the pulse rifle over his shoulder, and lifted the cannon again. "Be careful." He warned. "I don't like this. We haven't been able to get a visual on him."

Fett patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Djarin. I'll be fine."

"Still. I'll blast him the second I see him." Din promised, feeling an odd anxiety taking root in his chest.

"I know." Fett reassured him, his hand tightening on Din's shoulder. "I trust you."

Din's breath hitched a little as his face flushed bright red behind the helmet. His heart rate picked up slightly, thumping wildly in his chest.

He didn't trust himself to speak, so he nodded, an odd emotion washing over him. Fett nodded back and removed his hand wordlessly. For a long moment, they stood silently, just looking at each other. Din wished distantly that he knew what Fett was thinking behind his helmet, for once wishing he could see the other man's face.

Finally, Fett cleared his throat. "I'll head out then. You going up to the ridge?"

Din nodded. "I'll keep an eye out."

"All right." Fett said easily. "You got your com?"

Din looked down at his wrist to confirm. "Yeah. Let me know if there's trouble."

"I will." Fett said, raising his wrist demonstratively, showing Din his comlink. "Same to you."

Din nodded, watching as Fett turned and drew his blaster before walking further into the canyons.

Time to get to work, Djarin. He told himself firmly, lifting the cannon higher and starting the long climb up the canyon ridge.