Din leaned against the wall, eyeing the smuggler standing before Boba with dislike. He shifted behind Boba's throne, signaling his watchful gaze with a hand on his blaster. He heard Fennec huff irritably beside him.

"Calm down, Djarin." She whispered, exasperation coloring her tone. "He won't try anything."

"How do you know?" Din muttered back, watching as the smuggler tossed Boba a large bag of credits, an odious smile plastered on his face.

"He'd have to be pretty stupid to try anything with the both of us here watching Boba's back." Fennec replied, knocking Din's arm with a pointy elbow. "So calm down, will you? You're gonna make people nervous. And when people get nervous, shooting starts."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Din mumbled, but he forced himself to relax his posture, letting go of his blaster and swinging his arms loosely at his sides. Letting out a tense breath, he watched as the smuggler backed away from Boba's throne, looking insufferably pleased. Boba gave no sign of having noticed, his helmet as expressionless and stoic as ever, and simply waved forward the next petitioner, a stocky moisture farmer.

"Welcome." Boba rumbled.

The sound of his deep voice sent hot shivers down Din's spine, raising goose bumps on his arms. The image of Boba half-dressed raced through Din's mind, reminding him of the morning they had shared, the stolen kisses and playful banter. Din blushed fiercely behind his helmet, his heart beating faster at the memory, and he shook his head minutely, dragging his mind back to the present.

Focus. Din told himself sternly, resolutely ignoring the arousal that prickled hot in his veins. There's - there'll be time for that later.

Boba had promised him a conversation, after all. An odd swooping sensation took root in his belly at the thought. He promised we'd talk about - about sex. He thought, mingled nerves and excitement buzzing under his skin. And maybe when we're done talking, we can -

Later. Din reminded himself, blushing behind his helmet, trying not to picture it. He shook away images of Boba's big hands on him, of the solid weight of Boba's body pressing him into the sheets. Later.

Forcing his thoughts back to the present, Din watched as the farmer approached Boba's throne.

"Lord Fett, it is a pleasure." The man said, inclining his head respectfully.

This particular farmer didn't appear to be much of a threat, so Din let the conversation wash over him as he eyed the line behind the farmer, which was made up of various locals all waiting to meet with the Daimyo of Tatooine. They were a scruffy and tired bunch, none of them appearing as threatening as some of the cocky spacers who had appeared before Boba throughout the day, mostly human men who were young and brash enough to believe themselves invincible and untouchable. Their obsequious declarations of loyalty and barely disguised greed made Din's skin itch with irritation underneath his armor as he watched them saunter out of the throne room, waiting on tenterhooks for an ambush that never came. This group, however, seemed fairly innocent. A shabbily dressed old man, shadows under his eyes, a teenage boy, thin and lanky, a family of Twi'leks who looked around nervously at Din and Fennec, their eyes resting on Fennec's large blaster.

"- Will send a guard to help you." Boba's voice broke through Din's distracted thoughts. Shaking his head, he looked back towards Boba's throne, focusing on the conversation.

"Thank you, Lord Fett." The man gave Boba a small bow, and turned to leave the room, an unmistakable expression of relief on his face.

Boba's a good Daimyo. Din thought, watching the man go. And he seems to like it, helping the people of Mos Espa.

It was good to see that the locals were starting to trust Boba, that they were appealing to him for help with their problems. Some of that likely had to do with his battle against the Pikes, Din thought, with the fact that Boba had risked his life to defend the city from crime syndicates and the Hutts. People have seen how he protected Mos Espa. Din thought admiringly. They trust him now.

Fennec elbowed Din again, her dark eyes smug behind her narrow visor, as if to say I told you so. Annoyed, Din elbowed her back, aiming for the weak spot underneath the edge of her armor.

Fennec just rolled her eyes, seemingly unfazed, and pushed herself up from where she had been reclining against the wall.

Din ignored her, and settled back to watch the other locals approach Boba's throne one by one, watching carefully for any sign of danger. All was quiet, however, and soon Boba ended court for the day, signaling to several musicians in the corner as he rose from the throne. The palace's visitors drifted to the bar, swaying in time to the music as they settled in for a night of drinking and gambling.

Boba walked over to Fennec and Din, nodding to a group of Tuskens as he passed.

"Anything to report?" He asked.

"All clear." Fennec said.

"Good." Boba replied, reaching up to take off his helmet and tucking it under his elbow. He rubbed the back of his head wearily, his scars shining in the low light.

"Business seems to be picking up." Din observed, ignoring the swooping sensation in his stomach as Boba propped himself up against the wall on Din's other side, knocking their elbows together companionably.

"It is, yeah." Boba agreed, his tone pleased. "Any sign of more hunters in the desert?"

"None." Din said, shaking his head. "Seems like Bane's people cleared off for good."

"Good." Boba knocked their elbows together again, making beskar chime softly. Din leaned eagerly into the touch, his mouth dry. "The Hutts have finally gotten the message, then."

"Seems so." Din agreed.

"Good." Boba repeated, rolling his shoulders with a faint groan. "Because I'm getting too old for firefights."

"Please." Fennec rolled her eyes. "I'm older than both of you."

"Are you? You never mention it, I wouldn't have known." Boba retorted.

Fennec reached around Din to smack Boba in the chest. A soft clanging noise echoed around the room as her handguards met the beskar of Boba's chest plate. "Brute."

"Look who's calling the Stifling slimy." He shot back, dodging as Fennec took aim again.

Smiling, Din pressed his back more firmly to the stone, an odd sort of nostalgia burning in his chest at the sight of Fennec and Boba acting like a pair of unruly foundlings. For a moment, he saw himself and Paz as children, still too young to wear helmets, faces red with exertion as they scrapped as fiercely as a pair of massiff puppies.

Siblings. He thought, grief a hard lump in his throat as he watched Boba playfully smack Fennec's hands away.

"Well, these old bones need a drink." Fennec drawled.

Boba hummed in agreement. "Not a bad idea." Turning to Din, he raised a scarred eyebrow. "What do you say, Djarin? Care for a drink?"

"I - all right." Din said, tearing his thoughts away from Paz and the tribe.

"Excellent." Boba smiled, slapping Din on the back, his hand resting just a moment too long for it to be entirely friendly, leaning in closer. Din's heartbeat sped up at the touch, at the promise behind it.

Judging by the knowing glint in Fennec's eyes, she was not entirely oblivious. "Perhaps I should leave you boys alone." She teased, smirking.

Din's cheeks burned, and he shrugged, suddenly extremely glad she couldn't see his face.

"Good idea." Boba retorted, the smug tone in his voice unmistakeable. He placed his gloved hand on Din's bicep, the warmth of his touch bleeding through the layers of fabric and armor separating them. Din swallowed, the heat in his belly smoldering at the light pressure.

Fennec rolled her eyes and punched Boba's arm gently. "Have fun." She teased, turning and heading for the bar, her long braid swaying behind her as she went.

Boba watched her go before turning towards Din, leaning in a little closer. "So, how about that drink?" He asked, his voice a low rumble.

"I - here?" Din asked, his own voice slightly raspy.

Boba shrugged. "If you want. Or we could go up to my rooms."

"I - yes. Your rooms sound good." Din said hoarsely, suddenly desperate to be alone with Boba, burning with the desire to tear off his helmet and kiss him until they were both breathless.

Boba's eyes darkened, hungry desire plain on his face. "All right." He rumbled, letting go of Din's arm and stepping back. "After you, then."

Slightly flustered, Din led the way to the lift, his face hot behind his helmet. Boba followed close behind, bumping his shoulder against Din's as they stood side by side in the lift, watching as it carried them to the palace's top floor. Heart racing, Din stepped out of the lift and into Boba's rooms, the day's last rays of orange sunlight slipping behind the horizon.

Din reached up and took off his helmet, the unfamiliar motion jerky. Ignoring the shame burning in his gut, the armorer's scorn ringing faintly in his ears, he placed his helmet on the worktable and turned to face Boba.

"Hi." Din smiled, shifting his weight side to side a little awkwardly. He darted his gaze upward, relaxing as he met Boba's eyes and saw the depth of feeling reflected there, the warmth of Boba's affection. Something loosened in his chest, the knot of ever-present guilt and doubt that he had carried since Morak easing at the sight.

Boba smiled and set his own helmet on the table, before moving in closer and taking Din's hand. "Hi." He replied, leaning in for a kiss.

Din kissed him back eagerly, taking Boba's face in his hands. Boba's face was warm, his stubble rough even through the fabric of Din's gloves. His lips too were warm and a little chapped, his teeth sharp as he nipped Din's bottom lip. Chest heaving, mouth buzzing, Din pressed in closer, opening his mouth and chasing Boba's tongue with his own. He let Boba guide him backwards and press his body against the wall, Boba's hands on Din's hips.

Boba kissed him until Din was breathless and desperate for more, his skin prickling with heat, his cock twitching. Finally Boba broke the kiss and gently pressed his forehead to Din's, still holding Din by the hips. Din took a few panting breaths, stroking Boba's jaw softly with a thumb. Boba made a pleased humming sound, leaning into the touch. For a few moments they stayed like that, holding each other close, catching their breath. Din couldn't help but sway closer to Boba, a thin moan building in his throat, pressing their chests together, their hips, their legs. A soft clanging noise echoed throughout the room, armor meeting armor.

Boba chuckled and drew back, a glint in his eye. "We really should talk first, sweetheart."

Din groaned but let go of Boba's face, blushing. "I - all right." He agreed, a little sheepishly.

Boba grinned and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "It won't take too long. And after that, if you still want to -"

"Yes." Din interrupted eagerly, blushing as Boba laughed.

"All right. C'mon." Boba took his hand and helped him up, leading him over to the worktable. They sat side by side, only a few inches between them, their hands still entwined.

"So." Din cleared his throat awkwardly. "I - how should we - what do we need to talk about?"

"Well, let's start with what you want." Boba replied, squeezing his hand gently.

Din frowned. "I - I want you. I want -" He blushed fiercely, looking down at the tabletop. "I want to - to have sex, I mean."

"All right." Boba squeezed his hand again. "I would like that too. Have you thought about what that means for you? Are there things you aren't comfortable with? Things you absolutely don't want?"

Din thought about it, his face still burning with embarrassment. This was - he'd never sat down with any previous partner of his and talked so frankly and openly. He'd never really thought about what he wanted or didn't want, sex had just - happened. It had never been so intentional. Embarrassment prickled in his stomach, but Boba's reassurance helped, his gentle touch grounding as Din considered the question.

"I - I don't like it if I can't move at all." He said hesitantly. "I - I like it when - when someone's on top of me, but I want to be able to move a little."

"Okay." Boba said easily. "I can do that."

Din looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Boba said. "Anything else you don't like, or don't want to do?"

Din shrugged. "I like most things I've done before. I guess I've never - you know." He paused, blushing. "Tried oral. With the helmet."

"Makes sense." Boba agreed. "Is that something you want to rule out?"

Din thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. "I could try it."

The idea of it was a little strange, a little intimidating, but not bad, not really. I don't know if I'd be any good at it, Din thought, but I wouldn't mind trying it, with Boba.

"Let's take it slow." Boba suggested, rubbing a thumb over Din's knuckle soothingly. "Hold off on that for now, but if it's something you want to try in the future, we can talk about it, okay?"

"Okay." Din agreed. "I - other things, I've tried. And I - I liked them." He paused, his heart beating faster as he gathered up his courage. Just tell him what you want, he told himself firmly. Wasn't that the whole point of this conversation?

"I like - I like it when someone - when someone fucks me." Din said hesitantly. He blushed fiercely at hearing the words spoken aloud, but did his best to meet Boba's eyes.

"Okay." Boba said, his eyes darkening a little. "I can - I'd like that."

"What about you?" Din asked, doing his best to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks, the tips of his ears burning. "What do you want?"

Boba smiled at him reassuringly, settling some of the discomfort twisting in Din's stomach. "I like making my partner feel good." He said. "I've tried a lot of different things in the past, but mostly I like - fucking someone, giving them pleasure."

Din frowned. "But don't you - don't you want that, too?"

Boba shrugged. "Yes, but I don't always need to get off. Pleasuring someone else is its own satisfaction for me."

"I don't understand." Din admitted.

"That's all right." Boba smiled at him, leaning in a little. "I can show you, if you want."

Din nodded, his mouth dry. "I - I'd like that."

Boba leaned in closer, his nose almost touching Din's, his eyes dark with desire -

The lift to Boba's rooms opened with a sudden clang, and they jumped apart, instinctively reaching for their weapons. Din grabbed the darksaber from his hip and leapt to his feet, activating the blade and pointing it in the direction of the lift. Beside him, Boba leveled his blaster with a growl.

"Master Fett!" 2-1B cried, exiting the lift. He swiveled his head between Boba and Din indignantly.

Boba let out an exasperated sigh and holstered his blaster. "What is it, 2-1B?"

The droid huffed irritably. "I have come to deliver a message for Master Djarin, if you are all finished treating me like some common battle droid!"

"What's the message?" Din said, cutting Boba off before he could respond with an annoyed retort.

2-1B drew himself up to his full height and held out a comlink. Deactivating the darksaber, Din took it and saw there was one message recorded on the device.

Who wants to send me a message? He thought anxiously. Grogu was safe at Peli's, and she had his new comlink code if there were any problems. He had given it to her a few weeks ago after his old comlink had broken during the battle of Mos Espa. Did something happen to the tribe?

Dread curdling in his stomach, he clicked on the message, listening as a low crackle filled the room.

"Din Djarin." Vik's voice echoed out of the tinny speakers, the comlink rendering his voice a measured monotone.

"I know that you seek forgiveness for your sins." Din stiffened, every inch of his body coming on alert. He tightened his grip on the darksaber, his gloves creaking.

"You wish to bathe in the Living Waters, to atone for breaking the Creed. The tribe believes Mandalore to be poisoned. They believe there is no redemption possible. I can help you, Djarin. I know of a way to find the Living Waters. I can help you find the atonement you seek."

Boba shifted closer, his face tight with tension, listening intently. Mingled dread and hope rose in Din's stomach.

Could redemption be possible after all? Did Vik really know more about the Living Waters than the armorer? But why would he help me? Din thought bitterly.

He'd learned the hard way that Vik's primary concern was for himself. Is this some kind of strange apology?

"Come to Mandalore." The message continued. "I will meet you in orbit, to help you on your quest. This is the way."

The crackle of the comlink faded as the recording ended, the room eerily silent.

"So." Boba cleared his throat. "What are you going to do?"