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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

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Competing For Christmas 5: Holly Jolly Christmas (The Event)

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 13,100

Rating: M. Language.

Summary: It’s a good day to build some snowmen... and also, apparently a good day to find out some secrets.

Author’s notes:

Got carried away with this one, but I had very specific things I needded to include. Needless to say, 6 won’t be coming out tomorrow ... I haven’t even started it yet. Sorry about that.

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open!

I’m so glad that everyone still seems to be enjoying this story. I hope that this chapter answers some of the questions that you might have about Din’s past - and in a way that makes sense!

* reference pictures of the snowmen that they make can be found on the masterlist page!

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

Masterlist / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5.1

“So let me get this straight.” Cara eyed you from over the sandwich she was eating, the woman leaning closer as she spoke. “He was the one that put a stop to things?”

“Yeah.” Sipping from your straw, you nodded. “He’s the one that put an end to it last week at my place, and then last night, the guy went from hands on my back under my shirt and kissing my neck to telling me that we couldn’t continue in the span of like five seconds.”

“Weird.” Stacy frowned, head moving from side to side. “Did he say why?”

“No. He just said that it couldn’t go any further yet, but he’d explain some other time.” You hadn’t meant to spill everything to your friends, but when they’d asked who you were buying a tree skirt and extra ornaments for and you’d immediately given his name, they’d demanded to know more over lunch.

And you’d spilled - the details of the trivia night, the way he’d taken care of you when you were sick, the kiss you’d shared under the mistletoe at the community center and the following ones the previous night.

Cara’s eyes widened at the admission, the woman keeping them on you while you finished up, but it was Stacy that had cut in, asking you more about the man himself - and what you’d been able to tell them was surprisingly sparse.

So you focused on what you did know - that he was kind and thoughtful, eager to learn and willing to let you teach. You told them about the way he was with Grogu, and about how many of the competition elements and things relating to Christmas in general were new to him, thanks to the way he’d grown up. And you ended it with telling them that unlike so many other men, Din hadn’t pushed you for more - urging you past the point that you were comfortable with when it came to physicality, even though it was clear that it was something both of you were interested in.

“Have you looked him up at all? Cara wiped at her face, chewing. “I know you said he doesn’t have social media, but there’s got to be something about him online.”

“I haven’t.” It hadn’t occurred to you to do so, but after Cara’s suggestion, it seemed like an immense oversight on your part. “To be fair, though, I just found out where he’s from yesterday, so -”

“What’s the name of the place?” Stacy was on her phone, eyes moving from the screen to you and then back. “Mala-”

“Mandalore.” Sighing, you rested your chin on your hand. “I don’t know how to spell it, but -”

“Oh, shit.” Stacy’s eyes widened, Cara leaning over to look at her phone’s screen. “It’s a small country in northern Europe, they’re known for their exports of some sort of steel variant called beskar. I guess it’s used to make spaceships and planes?” She glanced up. “Really valuable shit. But the country’s not even as big as the state of New York, so it’s rare.”

As she continued to read from the screen, you contemplated pulling your own phone out but chose not to, sighing as the woman asked you how to spell Din’s last name. When you told her, she typed and then scrolled for a few seconds, her frown deepening. “What? What’s that look for?”

“Nothing’s coming up. Not even a LinkedIn page for him here.” That’s weird. “Are you sure that Din is his full name? Like it’s not short for Brandon or Aidin or -”

“No, I’m positive that that’s his full name. At least… that’s what he goes by at work. It’s on his badge, and it’s on payroll like that, too.” But it could be short for something else, and …

“Holy shit they have a king.” At that, Cara’s attention was fully drawn to Stacy’s screen, and you had to admit that yours was too. A king? “And he’s hot as hell.” You stood from your chair and circled around to where they sat, pushing one of the unused chairs away from the table behind yours to stand between your friends, eyes on her phone. “No clue how old he is or anything like that, but look at him.”

You did - focusing on the page she was scrolling through, images of a bald man with broad shoulders and sharp - but kind - eyes filling the screen. “Don’t a lot of those tiny little European nations have kings and queens or whatever the equivalent term is? Dukes and lords and -”

“Yeah, but this one’s got an actual name for it. Mand’alor. It’s in some other language, but -”

“Mando’a.” You mumbled the word, surprised as your friends both turned their heads to look at you. “What? Din mentioned it a couple times. He trained Grogu to follow commands in it, and …”

“Ok, so he’s not hiding where he’s from entirely.” Stacy returned to scrolling and you looked, too, reaching out as you gasped when you saw a familiar face on the screen. “What?”

“I know her.” Blinking rapidly, you leaned in. “That’s one of Din’s friends. He showed me a picture of her a couple weeks ago because she won some sharpshooting contest.” And he sent her a picture of me… “Why is she on this page with their king?”

“What’s her name?” You racked your brain, trying to remember if Din had told you, and then it came to you - another unfamiliar sounding one, but one that was difficult to forget.

“Fennec. I don’t know if it’s a first or a last name, but it’s definitely Fennec.” It was quiet for a few moments as she typed, and while you waited for the page to load, you could feel your confusion growing. He said she was a bodyguard. A sharpshooter, and she was in a picture with … “Oh my God.”

You whispered the words, one hand gripping the back of Cara’s chair tightly as you scanned words on the screen, but were unable to say anything else. There’s… what? “Your guy’s close with the head of personal security for the king of Mandalore?” Cara turned her head to look up at you, one brow arched. “Interesting.” Yeah, it is.

“So there’s a lot here, but it says that Fennec Shand was personally appointed as head of security for the Mand’alor, Boba Fett almost ten years ago, and …” You tried to listen - really - but at the mention of his name, you felt your blood run cold. Boba Fett? Fett? As in the other person Din told about me? This can’t be… You felt a hand on your arm and shook yourself back into focus, sucking in a breath. “You alright? What is it that -”

“Nothing. I just…” You didn’t want to lie to them, but also didn’t want to feed them any information until you’d heard it from Din himself and knew what was true - and what wasn’t - so you shrugged and hoped that you’d play it off like nothing was bothering you. “It’s kind of a shock to find out all of this, you know? That Din’s close friend is someone responsible for something like keeping the Mandalorian version of the President safe, and …” You shrugged. “Feels weird to know this because we looked it up.”

“Are you going to say anything?” Stacy darkened the screen and you stood up straight, heading back to your mostly finished lunch. “I mean he can’t blame you for looking him up, right? You guys are basically dating. And it’s not like you found anything about him, just… his friend.” Friends. You corrected her in your head but stayed silent, nodding your head as you began to eat again.

“Yeah. I’ll probably let him know that I looked up Mandalore, and see… see what he says from there.”

“Let us know.” Cara winked at you, swiping her fingers through her hair. “I can’t wait to see how he reacts.” Yeah, neither can I.

—

But you knew that you wouldn’t say anything to Din right away, and at the sight of him heading across the parking lot and toward you, you second guessed saying anything at all. “You ever built your snowman in an actual snowstorm before?” His smile was wide and bright, Din glancing up at the sky - covered in gray clouds, though it wasn’t dark thanks to the fact that sunset was still an hour or so away. “At least it stopped snowing so you could get your shopping done.”

“It did. And no, It’s never been snowing like this during the competition before, Din.” You fell into step next to him, fighting the urge to reach over and take his hand. “It’ll keep things interesting, at least.”

“Yeah.” As you reached the pathway to the central gazebo and warming tents, he spoke up again. “Did you get everything done you needed to today?”

“Sort of. The mall was really busy so we had to skip some stores, but I think I only need to get one or two more gifts and then I’m done… so I’m ahead of schedule.” The two of you ducked underneath the tent, five of the other teams already inside and waiting, and took your places near the back of the crowd. “I did get that tree skirt for you, though. And I have the extra ornaments in my trunk, too.”

“Great. Thank you.” He moved closer and you felt his hand resting on the center of your back. “I scheduled a pizza delivery for 8:45. Figured that since they said the judging happens at 8, we’d be getting back to my place around then, so we could eat before we started on ornaments.”

“Lights first.” Turning your head to face him, you shrugged. “Gotta put lights on before the ornaments, Din.”

He didn’t have a chance to say anything before someone called for your attention, both of you looking to the front of the tent as the speaker introduced herself, welcoming everyone to the competition. “Most of you know the rules, but for those that don’t, I’ll be quick. All eight teams are here, so as soon as I’m done talking, we’ll start.”

“So we get extra time.” You checked your watch, seeing that it was twenty minutes before the scheduled start time of the event. “That’s good.”

“This event is simple: we want you to create a scene that features snowmen. Your scene has to match the theme, and it has to be contained within your allotted space. Each team will need to build at least three figures in order to qualify. And you must use the provided props in some way on each of your snow creations.” That’s simple enough. Nothing different from last year there. “You have from now until 7:15 to finish, and then we’ll need fifteen minutes to remove the fencing and privacy screens.”

She paused, looking around the room. “They’re on a really tight schedule.” Din leaned over, speaking into your ear. “It’s snow, and -”

“A lot of kids come out to see these. They don’t want it to get too late for them to cast their votes.” He was still touching you, Din moving closer so that his side was pressed against your arm. “Plus they’ve gotta clean up after everyone’s done, so it’s easier to do that before it gets really dark.”

“Good point.” He mumbled the words, his hand sliding from the center of your back to your side, urging you closer. I need to talk to him. I need to…

“As a reminder, this tent will remain open during the competition and act as a warming tent. Plan on taking breaks to warm your hands and feet. There are towels and heaters.” She pointed at one side of the tent. “Hot chocolate and coffee are available. The park’s bathrooms are open, too, and ready for your use.”

You shifted on your feet, antsy to get started - and to get Din alone, and were rewarded a few seconds later when the woman made the final announcement of the night - telling everyone what the theme was.

“We thought about this one a lot throughout the last few weeks, and we’ve decided not to deviate from the typical contest themes.” The crowd murmured, but she kept going, one hand tight on the microphone. “The theme this year is going to be Christmas movies and TV shows.”

You groaned - you couldn’t help it. “What’s wrong?” Din leaned closer, concern evident in his voice. “What’s wrong with that theme?”

“It’s boring.” Rolling your eyes, you turned your head toward him. “Just once, I’d love to do something different, like superheroes or animals or -”

“Do we have to follow the theme?” He said your name, drawing your attention completely. “Is there a way we could -”

“If we don’t follow the theme, we can’t win.” And if we lose another event, we’re going to lose the competition. “So yeah, we’ve gotta follow the theme, Din.”

The two of you listened to the woman finish her spiel - reminding you of the time you had and the location of your props, and then dismissed everyone, telling you to have fun. You lingered under the tent for a few minutes, arms crossed and your head turned to the side. This is going to be hard because he doesn’t know Chrismtas movies, and …

“Hey.” He reached out, putting a gloved hand on your shoulder. “Let’s just make snowmen.”

“But that isn’t -”

“They didn’t say what movies they had to be from, right?” He shrugged. “Let’s go see what they have for props, and we’ll figure it out. “

“But if we don’t have a theme, we -”

“I don’t care.” He turned completely toward you, reaching out with his other hand and laying them both on your upper arms. “We’ll figure it out, or we won’t.” He leaned in, eyes bright. “The way I see it is that we’re going to see a ton of people making snowmen in Santa hats and reindeer.” He paused. “And that one snowman from the -”

“Frosty.” You rolled your eyes. “That’s why this is such a dumb theme. It’s just going to be a bunch of -”

“Let’s just have fun.” Din shook his head. “This is supposed to be fun, and you’re standing here stressed because of a snowman, and -”

“You’re right.” Admitting it helped - it loosened the anxiety in your chest, your lips parting as you looked up at Din. “You’re right, Din. This is supposed to be…” Closing your eyes, you nodded. “Let’s go see what they have in that gazebo.”

Stepping toward the tent’s opening, you weren’t surprised when he reached over and took your hand, fingers interlocking with yours in the moments before he squeezed.

—

An hour later, the two of you had three snowman shapes built, and you were working on turning them into characters.

Once you’d seen the props available, it became clear to you that most people were going the predictable route and creating Santa snowmen or going straight Frosty with their choices. After a few minutes of contemplation - and digging through boxes - you decided to make three snowmen from three different movies.

And as you’d worked, you and Din talked to each other, Din helping you to push and lift the heavy snow into place and suggesting that you stick branches into the center for added support - and to ensure that they stood up straight.

You knew that you probably wouldn’t win, but the longer you spent in the cold with him, the snow falling around you and the sounds of the other teams muffled by the makeshift walls, you realized that you didn’t care. Because being here with him is better than winning.

He flashed you a smile before standing up straight and pulling his phone from his pocket, lighting the screen up. “So I’m going to finish up this Frosty guy here, and then take a break.” He pointed at his face. “My nose is cold, and I want some of that hot chocolate.”

“Ok.” Eyeing your snowman, you sighed. “I’m going to stay here while you do that, because this guy has to be big. I remember him always looking huge in the story, and -”

“I’ll help you when we come back.” He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you out here in the cold.” It was snowing harder, but in that moment, you didn’t feel the cold or damp - you felt the warmth of Din’s smile, the heat in his gaze. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Biting your lip, you took a deep breath, the shiver coursing through your body not at all due to the cold. “Yeah, that’s alright.”

Fifteen minutes later, Din finished his snowman’s hand - carefully molding it around the handle of a broomstick that was securely embedded in a pile of snow on the ground, and turned back to you. “Coming?” With a final glance at your own snowman - the body shape almost to where you wanted it to be, you let out a sigh and then stepped away from it, out and into he open. Din followed, and only a minute passed before the two of you were under the soft, warm light of the tent, cups of hot chocolate in hand. “I think we’re making pretty good progress.”

He sipped his drink, waiting. Yeah, I think so too. “Your’re almost done, and it won’t take us too long to finish the third one, since all we have to do is make it dirty and make a really simple face.”

“We still have about an hour. I’m not worried.” He shrugged. “This is good hot chocolate.” It was, and the longer the two of you stood there, the better you felt; feeling coming back into your fingers and toes, the snowflakes on Din’s hat melting and dripping down, creating small puddles on the ground around him. “Grogu left the tree alone, by the way. I was worried he’d knock it over.”

“Nah. He’s probably going to be more interested once there’s stuff on it, but unless he gets really excited, I bet it stays upright.” Din went to reply, but two more pairs of contestants walked in and so he didn’t, tossing his cup into the trash and then moving to stand next to you - much closer than he had before. “Din?”

“We should get back to our snowmen.” He sighed, eyeing one of the women, who was holding her phone up and recording the interior of the tent. “C’mon. The sooner we do that, the sooner we’ll be done.”

“I thought you liked the snow.” Wrinkling your nose as you carefully made your way back to where you’d been building, you questioned him. “Are you cold Din?”

“I do like the snow. And I’m a little cold, yeah, But to be honest, I’m looking forward to later.” It was the most straightforward he’d been with you about anything, and it stopped you in your tracks. “What?”

“I’m looking forward to it, too.” There was more you wanted to say - much more, starting with telling him what you and your friends had discovered earlier in the day, but you knew that if you did, the snowmen wouldn’t ever get finished. Because it’ll either be a really long conversation… or a really short one.

He smiled at you and then used his chin to motion toward your space, and the two of you began walking again, stepping off of the path and onto the snow.

You settled back into the rhythm you’d established earlier - Din finishing Frosty up to the point where all you had left to do was put his hat on - and then coming to help you with your snowman. It went so much faster with his help - Din hefting large armfuls of snow onto the body for you and packing it in while you worked to shape the arms and legs.

Like in the earlier events, you worked well as as team, and soon enough, your snowman was done, too - a green scarf and hat settled onto his head and neck and tiny, black eyes and a thin mouth adorning his face. You hadn’t been able to find an orange for his nose, so you’d substituted with a piece of orange fabric wrapped around a tightly packed snowball - but you were happy with it. “And then there was one.”

Taking a breath, you turned toward Din, hands on your hips. “I don’t know how we’re going to make this thing dirty, this snow is pure white, and …”

“Yeah, I’m not sure either.” Turning, he rummaged through your box of props. “If we had actual coal, it would be easier.” Yeah, it would. But all we have is fake, plastic coal, so… “Hold on a second.” He hurried away, leaving you standing in the snow and staring after him, confused. What is he doing?

While Din was gone, you checked your watch - it was nearly 7, which meant you had about fifteen minutes left to finish. We’re cutting it close, and … He surprised you when he reappeared, one hand stuffed into his pocket and the other holding a handful of white packets. “Din, what -”

“Hot chocolate powder.” He grinned. “I saw the extra packets when we were standing in there earlier, and I figure it’s brown - like dirt, so -” Oh, you’re a genius.

You didn’t even try to stop yourself from lunging forward, your arms going around Din’s neck and your lips finding his cheek, the skin chilly beneath them. “You’re brilliant, Din Djarin.”

“No one’s ever said that to me before.” He hugged you back, tucking his head down and nosing along the side of your neck. “But you can say it again if you want.” You would have been content to stay there in his arms for the rest of the night, but Din pushed you away gently, wetting his lips as he let out a breath through his nose. “We’ve gotta finish this.”

“Yeah.” Swallowing, you closed your eyes. “Yeah, we do.” Instructing Din to just sort of throw the mix at the snow, you took a couple packets from him and removed one glove, pouring the mix into your free hand and then holding it up in front of your mouth, blowing in short bursts.

Between the two of you, it didn’t take long for you to cover parts of the surface of the snowman in the dust, the air filled with the sweet scent of the cocoa powder. “That good? Or should I go and get more?”

“No.” You eyed the snow, watching as the powder began to dissolve into muddy looking splotches, bright white peeking through in places. “No, this is good. We don’t want the entire thing to be chocolate soup, it just needs to look…dirty.” In a stroke of inspiration, you reached out, pressing your bare hand to the center of the snowman’s body and letting the heat of it melt a little - a handprint left behind.

Din did the same and when you both stepped back, you laughed, tossing your head back and closing your eyes. “What? It doesn’t look that bad.”

“No. It looks perfect.” Bending down, you wiped your hand on the ground and then kicked snow over the dark space, drying your skin on your jeans before slipping your glove back on. “All we have to do now is put the hat on Frosty, and we’re done.”

He’d taken pictures throughout the night - marking progress with his phone - but you were still surprised when the flash went off as you lifted the hat from the table, eyeing it. “Sorry, I figured I’d take a picture of you putting it on our guy’s head, but I should have asked, and…”

“Here.” You reached for the phone, holding out the hat. “Trade me.” He looked confused but did as you asked, passing the phone to you and taking the hat, his fingers running along the brim. “It’s your first one, Din. You’ve gotta be the one to finish it.”

Instead of taking pictures, you switched it to video and aimed the camera at him, biting your lip as he moved to stand next to the snowman and then rose up onto his toes, lifting the tophat. “Am I doing this right?” Glancing over his shoulder at you, Din waited for your quiet yes to continue, returning his attention to what was in front of him and settling the hat into place, reaching up and giving it a tweak with his fingers to bring it forward. “Done.”

We’re done. Panning away from Din, you took video of each of the snowmen and then moved it back to him, your smile growing. You didn’t know if your group would win, but you’d had fun building with Din, and that was all that mattered. I hope he did, too.

Ending the video, you handed him the phone and then started to clean up your space, loading all of the trash and spare props into the box you’d carried them over in. When you finished, you checked your watch and found that you had five minutes to go before the competition ended, leaving you and Din with enough time to stand back and admire your handiwork.

You could see people beginning to congregate near the gazebo and tent, but you didn’t focus on them, instead leaning into Din’s side and sighing. “We did a good job, Din. Thank you for talking me down earlier. It… I don’t know what was wrong with me, but -”

“You’re welcome. But I meant what I said. It would be nice to win, but if we don’t, we don’t. I said yes to doing all of this with you to spend time with you, not to win a couple prizes.” Oh. Oh, that…. “But I think we’ll win.”

“You have much more confidence than I do, Din.” Locking eyes with him, you gave him a soft smile. “I hope you’re right, though.”

There were questions you needed to ask him - things you needed him to clear up … but you wanted to kiss him again, too. And it’s going to happen, it … Din closed the distance between the two of you, turning his body and lifting one arm so that he could wind it around you, and when his mouth met yours, you sighed, feeling the upward curve of his mouth against your lips at the sound.

The kiss was interrupted, though, when a flash went off, the sudden brightness forcing your eyes open as Din stiffened in front of you, backing away almost immediately. “What was -” He looked around, obviously on alert, and it only took a few seconds to find the source of the light - someone was walking around and taking pictures of the event, but since it was later at night, flash was necessary.

“They’re just taking pictures of the entries, Din. The same way they came around and took pictures of the cookies.” It hurt - the fact that he’d had such a visceral reaction to potentially being photographed kissing you - and it only added to the mountain of things that you wanted to ask him. But if he’s associated with the king of Mandalore, it makes sense. “Look.”

The flash went off again, closer, and Din finally relaxed, saying your name. “It’s not that I don’t want to be -”

“We can talk about it later.” You stepped further away, sticking your gloved hands in your jacket pockets. “We don’t need to get into it right now.” He frowned but agreed, and when, a few minutes later, the judges finally got to your section of the park, it was Din that spoke first, giving your team name, and then turning things over to you to explain your snowmen. “This one’s Frosty.” You pointed, turning the top half of your body to follow your arm. “And that’s The Snowman from the silent British film.”

“And this one’s Pigpen’s snowman from the Charlie Brown Christmas special.” Din cut in, his arm jutting out to indicate the third snowman. At that, the female judge laughed, her smile growing by the second. That’s good. That’s… really good.

“It smells like chocolate over here.” She raised a brow, looking between you and Din. “Why?”

“We used cocoa powder packets to make him dirty.” You shared another look with the woman, your shared amusement apparent. “So hopefully it works out.”

“I like it.” She shrugged, making a few notes on the clipboard she held. “Alright, we’ll take a picture of the two of you and what you built for our records, and then you can head over to the main crowd until it’s time to announce the winners.”

Unlike the previous picture scenario, Din moved back to stand next to you, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you faced the cameraman. There wasn’t any distance between you, but you felt it nonetheless, a slight shift in the closeness that you’d been building over the previous weeks. I don’t like that at all.

It worried you, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it, the judges dismissing you and thanking you for participating. “Let’s see what everyone else built.” Din nudged you as you walked, pointing with his other hand. “Take the long way back and circle around.

So you did, a few of the walls already down to expose the creations by the other teams. Oh, some of these are impressive.

One team had somehow created Santa, Hermey and Rudolph. Another had made three vaguely reindeer-shaped snowmen, one of them with a bright red nose. A third team’s focus had been on the movie Elf, a large-humanoid snowman dressed in green and yellow, and then a smaller snowman wearing a coat and scarf were joined by something that you identified as a narwhal only by the massive horn sticking out of its face.

Snowmen dressed as Santa and Frosty were abundant, but it seemed that you and Din had been the only ones to mix movies together for your group, and you hoped that it would set you apart. We’ll see.

You passed your friends on the way back to the tent, Cara lifting her hand in a wave as she looked between you and Din, the flakes still swirling through the air. You wondered if they’d know which group was yours, and as you and Din dropped off the remaining props at the gazebo and then headed back to the warming tent, you let the thoughts consume you ,

As much as Din said it didn’t matter if you won, part of you knew that it did - to both of you. He was competitive, too, and even if the main reason he’d agreed to participate was to spend time with you, it wasn’t like he’d tried to throw any of the previous events. And he seemed really upset at the thought that he might not be able to contribute to trivia.

“You either did the Elf snowmen, or you made the ones of Santa and the reindeer.” Stacy’s voice made you turn, Din moving with you and steadying you with one hand on your back again. “And I think it was Elf, but -”

“No, it’s the one that had Pigpen’s snowman.” Cara cut in, swallowing a long sip of cocoa. “Definitely.”

“How’d you know?” Din shook his head. “We -”

“I’m just that smart.” Cara winked at him, but then lowered her cup, laughing. “No, Din, you’ve got cocoa powder on your jacket. I saw it when you walked by us earlier.” Oh. That makes sense. “Good job, guys. They looked great.”

Thanking her, the four of you started talking, but it wasn’t long before Stacy pulled you away and toward the snack table. She only waited until you were out of earshot to lean over, hissing out her questions. “Did you ask him? What did she say?”

“Not yet.” You picked up a bag of popcorn, fingers closing around the handles. “There wasn’t time, and if I would have asked before or during the competition, we wouldn’t have finished. I’ll ask him tonight. And that way if it goes bad… I can just leave.”

“It won’t go bad.” She shook her head, grabbing a bag of popcorn for herself. “I think he’ll appreciate that you looked him up, and that you’re asking him questions, not just assuming things.” You hoped that she was right, and when the two of you made your way back to Cara and Din, and you offered him the popcorn, you really hoped she was right. Because I don’t want things to go back to how they were.

“I think they’re coming back now.” Din pointed with one covered hand, his gloves the same pair from the previous night - black with yellow fingertips, a bright blue triangle on the backs of his hands. “At least some of them.”

He was right - the judges were all back, and the gazebo crowd was starting to increase in size, too, everyone huddling together and talking. The sounds of the conversations grew louder as more time passed, and though you and Din spoke to your friends without any awkwardness or extended silences, you were still very aware of what was happening around you, eyes darting between your group and the rest of the crowd and waiting.

He was beside you but not touching you, though that changed when the woman climbed up the steps to the gazebo, microphone in hand. “Here we go.” Din whispered, bumping your shoulder with his. “We’ve got this.” Do we?

The woman’s speech was congratulatory, highlighting the impressive creations by each team, but she didn’t waste time with long-winded stories, instead getting right to the important parts. “To start, we want to thank our local hardware store, who donated sleigh shovels to make the creation of these snowmen much simpler.” People clapped but not for long, the woman beginning to speak again. “Each participant will receive one of those as a thank you from us for your contribution to the park’s decorations.

“That’ll come in handy. I can make Grogu a path in the back yard.” You snorted back a laugh, keeping your eyes forward.

“In third place and earning fifteen points, with their take on The Nightmare Before Christmas, we’ve got Team Holi-daze.” The two cheered, the crowd reacting along with them. “Second place goes to a pair that chose to make characters from a few different movies - Clan Mudhorn, your Pigpen snowman was a hit and scored you fifteen additional points.” You tried to listen but were distracted, adding the new points in your head to your running total.

“We’re still winning.” Din leaned over, mouth close to your ear. “We -”

“And the winners, with their Elf inspired snowmen, we have team Smarty Pints!” The entire crowd cheered, but the woman wasn’t done, her smile genuine as she looked over the people gathered in front of her. “In addition to the previously mentioned shovels, each winning team will have a donation made in their name to a charity of their choice. Third place’s donation is in the amount of $100, second’s is $150 and first place is $250.”

“I like that.” Din nodded from next to you. “That’s a surprise, but I really like that.” You did, too, and were just about to ask Din if he had any idea where he wanted to donate to when he spoke again. “You can choose the charity. You know more about the local businesses, and I have no doubt that you’ll pick someone that deserves it.”

“The animal shelter.” You responded immediately. “Everyone donates to people at this time of year, but they forget that there are plenty of pets that need to be fet and kept warm, and -”

“Really?” You nodded. “That’s fine with me.” He put an arm around you and pulled you close, the one-armed hug brief but warm. “Come on, we’ve gotta go and tell them who we want to donate to, and then we can get out of here.”

You followed him to the front of the crowd, getting in line behind Holi-daze, the two of them talking quickly about their planned donation. You and Din stayed quiet, though, waiting your turn and taking the offered shovels before Din urged you forward, a small smile on his face.

After you gave the name of the organization and ensured that it was written down correctly on the sheet of paper in front of you, you and Din made your way back through the crowd and toward where your friends had been - though they were nowhere to be seen. “Thought we’d say goodbye, but …”

“Text them?” Din stuffed his hands in his pockets. “See where -”

“Nah.” Releasing a long breath, you shook your head from side to side. “They would have waited if they wanted to see me.” I think? “Let’s just get back to your place. It’s going to take a few extra minutes because of the snow, so the sooner we leave, the better.”

“Alright.” Din eyed you, one brow arched. “Ready for some pizza?”

“Of course.” Grinning, you hoped that he couldn’t see the conflict on your face - and that he wouldn’t get upset when you brought up what you’d learned. But it would have come out at some point, and … “I’ll follow you?”

“Sounds good.”

And without another delay, you and Din headed for your cars.

—

You got two strands of lights on the tree and ornament hooks on most of the ornaments before the pizza arrived, and even though you didn’t want to ruin anything, you figured that dinner would be the perfect time to talk over your discoveries.

You’d changed as soon as you got to his house - swapping out your jeans and thick socks for a pair of comfortable sweatpants and slippers, and Din had done the same, stripping down to what could only be described as pajamas - dark gray sweats and a pullover hoodie, the sleeves pushed back to expose his forearms. The casual attire helped to put you more at ease even though inwardly, you were freaking out. Just say it. Just say it and get it over with and…

“So how many lights go on here?” He gestured to the tree with his pizza slice before raising it to his mouth and taking a bite. “We have I think 6 more boxes. Is that enough?”

“It should be.” You eyed the tree, squinting. “We can finish the lights and then start the ornaments, and then you’ll have your first real Christmas tree, Din.”

“Yeah.” He chewed, finishing his slice. “And I wouldn’t have it without you.”

You hated to bring things up and potentially ruin everything, but you couldn’t keep quiet any longer. Setting the remnants of your diner down, you wiped your fingers on a napkin and then said his name. “I… have something I need to tell you.”

His shoulders slumped immediately, Din sitting up straight and locking eyes with you. “What? Is everything alright?”

“When I was shopping earlier, I told Cara and Stacy why I picked up the tree skirt, and we started talking about you and the competition, and …” Shit this is hard. “We looked you up, Din. Looked up Mandalore, and…” Trailing off, you sighed and closed your eyes. “There was a picture… lots of pictures, actually, of your friend Fennec with your king… or your Mand’alor, and -”

“Oh.” He sounded dejected, and when you looked over at him again, Din was visibly deflated, looking almost small in his chair. “Why’d you decide to look?”

“Stacy looked. She just thought it was weird that I knew almost nothing about you, so she wanted to see if anything came up.”

“Did it?”

“No.” Rubbing at the bridge of your nose, you laughed. “No, it didn’t. Just stuff about Mandalore and Fennec and Boba Fett, and beskar. But nothing about you, not even a LinkedIn profile.” He stayed quiet, and since you figured he was about to ask you to leave, you went on. I’ve already started, so… “When you said politics, Din, I didn’t think that you meant your family was close with your country’s royalty. Hell, I didn’t even consider that that was possible.”

“My family isn’t close with them.” He stood, taking his plate to the sink. “Are you done?”

“Yeah.” You’d only eaten about a slice and a half, but your appetite was all but gone. “Yeah, I’m -” Din leaned over and took your plate, too, carrying it to the trash and dumping the contents before it joined his plate in the basin. “I’ll get my coat, Din, and -”

“Why?” He turned to face you again, arms crossed over his broad chest. “We have a tree to finish decorating.” What? I thought … “You had every right to look me up. I’m surprised you didn’t do it sooner.”

“Din, I -” He cut you off, stepping forward and reaching out with one hand. “What are -”

“Come on. I’ll explain while we decorate.”

A few minutes later, the two of you were back in the downstairs room, the fire roaring and Grogu snoozing in his chair. You and Din were on opposite sides of the tree, passing the strands of lights to each other as you secured them in place - but Din hadn’t said a word. Instead, the only noises that you heard were the crackling of the fire and an occasional burst of sound from the TV, turned on and playing one of the Santa Clause movies. He said he’d talk but he’s not. He’s not going to say anything, and -

“I lost my parents when I was really young.” Din cleared his throat. “I don’t really remember them much. Just small things - my mom’s laugh, my dad’s dark hair. I remember our house. But there was … an accident. A fire. I got rescued, and they didn’t.”

“Din, I’m so sorry.” You tightened your hold on the wire, unsure of what to say. “That had to … that had to be really hard.”

“I don’t remember much of it, like I said. But thank you.” He bent over and plugged in another strand of lights, the colors dancing over his skin, though he was frowning. “In Mandalore, the foster system isn’t like it is here. The people really care about making sure that kids are taken care of.”

“That’s good to hear.” You figured it was easier over there, since it was a much smaller country, but decided not to elaborate.

“Yeah.” He scoffed. “It was an interesting couple years, and I lived with a couple families, but then…” Din paused, tucking lights beneath a branch before he passed the bundle to you. “People started to notice me. I was smart. Strong. I understood mechanical things and even though I was only 10 or 11, I impressed my teachers.”

“You’re really smart, Din. I’m not surprised that people were impressed.” He thanked you and you fought back a smile as you ducked behind the tree, winding lights around the branches there. “Did you skip grades?”

“Sort of.” He took the lights back from you, finishing with that strand and going to grab another. “I-

“You have to plug it in somewhere else.” Reaching out, you settled your hand on his to stop him. “No more than 400 connected at one place. They could short out.” He thanked you and stuck his hand into the center of the tree, reaching for the extension cord there to plug in the new lights.

“I got pulled from school when I was 12. Moved to a private one, where I could still learn things but was also exposed to other … different opportunities.” You had no idea what he was talking about, but still stayed quiet, waiting. “I got pulled from regular school and sent to what you’d call a boarding school here. I didn’t know it at first, but it was run by the ruling family. They only accepted kids that were gifted in some way. But it wasn’t… you didn’t have to have money or status to go there.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t what you were expecting, but it made sense to you - at least in some ways. So they really try to help these kids.

“I was an orphan. I had no one. And while I was there, I met Fennec. And I also met Boba Fett.” The king. The king was a … “I didn’t know it at first, but Boba was being set up to rule Mandalore, and he had been for years. He was older than us, and so he left the school before Fennec and I did. It was a huge surprise when he was named Mand’alor, but we were all there. We got to skip class and go to the ceremony, and I remember thinking how fucking cool it was that my friend was the ruler of a country.”

“That would be pretty neat.” You were both sitting on the ground, working on the lower portion of the tree, and so you leaned to the side, making sure you could see him. “I bet the kids all left you alone.”

“They did but it had nothing to do with Boba. I wasn’t… I’m pretty quiet, so I mostly kept to myself aside from him and Fennec and another guy that was a couple years older - Karga. Karga was the one that hired me for my first job after I graduated from our equivalent of high school, and I worked for him for a long time - until I came over here, actually.”

You worked in silence for a few minutes, plugging in a new set of lights and wrapping them slowly around the branches. It was a lot of information that he was giving you, but none of it seemed to be false - he hadn’t paused or embellished anything, and Din seemed to genuinely want to tell his story.

“Hey, you still with me?” He reached over, taking the lights from you - and covering your hand with his.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just … this is a lot to process.”

“I’m not even to the good part yet.” Din smiled, his head cocked to the side. “Boba became Mand’alor a little over ten years ago. And when he did, he pulled Fennec from what she was doing to take her with him. She got special training and became his personal bodyguard, and she’s the best I’ve ever seen.”

“You said you were good, but she was better.” He nodded, wetting his lips. “So does that mean you’re security for him, too? How would that work? You’ve been here for a year, and -”

“Mandalore is different. We train for different things as we grow up, and one of them is something that’s now more just to honor the past.” Din closed his eyes and then reopened them, looking away and focusing on the tree, his fingers working to deftly tuck the end of the last strand of lights between the branches to hide it. “It’s not quite military boarding school level, but we did practice things like shooting and combat and …” He shrugged. “It’s normal for us. Mostly used for ceremonial stuff, but…”

“I get it.” You leaned back on your hands, eyes on him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine.” He leaned back, too, looking up at the tree. You watched as his lips twitched, his smile apparent as he looked at your handiwork. “I’m not security for Boba, no. He asked me if I’d ever want to join the team a while back, and I said no.” Ok, so there’s one question answered. “Because that would have meant a public presence. It would have meant that people would know exactly who I am, and …” Din sighed. “That’s the big thing.”

“I understand wanting privacy, Din.” You were still confused, though, not understanding why if they were such close friends, no pictures of Din and Boba had come up - why there was zero mention of the man’s name anywhere. “Was he mad?”

“No. Disappointed, maybe. And he knows that if he needs me, I’d be there for him, but … if I’d said yes, it would have changed his other plans, too.” Din stood and then held a hand out to you, waiting for you to take it before he helped you to your feet. You noticed that he didn’t let you go right away, instead tightening his grip on your fingers and pulling you a little closer. “Do you want to know what those are?”

“Yes.” You had no idea what he was going to say, but nothing could have prepared you for what came next.

“In Mandalore, the ruling title isn’t inherited. It can be, and it has been in some cases, but it isn’t always. Boba was chosen, and he’s been a great Mand’alor. The people love him. But it’s a demanding job, and …” Din let go of your hand and then pulled his fingers through his hair, looking down at his feet. “The reason there’s nothing about me online - no pictures or pages or accounts or… anything is because Boba named me as his successor years ago. He has no kids and wouldn’t have any that will be ready to take over and lead in time, and so …” Din sighed. “Until the moment that it’s announced, it’s like I don’t exist. No one knows my face. No one knows my name. I’m like any other Mandalorian. But when it’s my turn to go and take that vow … that all changes.”

“What?” You shivered, blinking furiously. “Din, that …”

“Yeah, it’s crazy, right?” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I thought I still had time. But the last couple years, Boba’s been talking about stepping down, just because he wants to live his life, and so my time is … I don’t have as much free time left as I thought I did.”

“So you’re going to become the Mand’alor?” Squaring your shoulders, you wet your lips. “And it’s going to happen soon, and -”

“Yes. And yes. I don’t know when, but we’re probably talking within the next couple years. I’ll have to go back and for the first time, I won’t just be a nobody that happens to be friends with Fennec and Boba, I’ll be … everyone will see me.”

You didn’t say anything, staring at Din and fighting to keep the frown off of your face. That’s why he’s so content to just work and stay in the background. Because it’s what he wants. His admissions were a shock to you, but you believed him.

He’d mentioned Boba and Fennec before you knew who either of them were. He’d never outright lied to you about who he was or where he was from, just kept certain things a secret. Until I asked. Until… “So you weren’t lying when you said you were a prince.”

“I wasn’t. It’s not … it’s a little different than what you’d think of when you hear the term, but …” He took a seat on the edge of the couch cushion, looking up at you. “People obviously know that I exist, you know? They’ve seen my face out in public in Mandalore. But keeping a low profile is important because if I don’t, enemies of the crown could try and use it against Boba. And against me or Mandalore, and I can’t… that can’t happen.”

“Of course not.” You sat next to him, both of you staring straight ahead and at the tree - and Grogu. “I’m sorry I made you upload your information on that website. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have even asked.”

“It’s fine. You said nothing came up when you searched, so it isn’t…” He shrugged. “But that’s why I got nervous with the flashes later, when we were …” Din trailed off. “No one knows where I am or who I am here, but I promised Boba that if I left, I wouldn’t… I just wanted some time to myself before I have to …” His shoulders slumped again, Din’s sigh heavy.

“You don’t want the position.” Reaching over, you took his hand without another thought, your fingers lacing with his. “Din, you -”

“I don’t. But … Boba is family and he asks me for so little. It’s not about what I want.” Din said your name, waiting until you were looking directly at him to speak again. “I like you. And I like being here, but I can’t… I can’t stay. That trip over summer was to go home and talk all of this over with him and the others. He’s starting to get things ready so that he can step down, and …”

It terrified you - the suddenness of the anxiety that filled your chest at the thought of Din leaving, despite the fact that you’d just started spending time together. That’s not good. “Is that why you said things couldn’t go further?” Of course it is. Of course that’s my luck.

“Yes.” He squeezed your hand, thumb circling over your knuckle. “It’s one of the reasons. Because you deserve more than someone that’s just going to give you some small part of themselves and then give you an ultimatum without anything else.”

You gasped at that, his words hitting you hard. It meant that he’d listened to what you’d said about James. That he understood that while you weren’t looking for a set future, you needed to know that there was the possibility of one, no matter how small. And if he’s leaving, there’s no chance. “Then why, Din? Why’d you kiss me in the first place? Why’d you -”

“Because I couldn’t help it.” He laughed, but it was a sad sound, his chin dropping again. “Fennec told me it was a bad idea to get close to you, especially with everything going on, but …” He swore quietly, taking a breath. “I thought I’d be able to keep myself from getting too involved, because I knew I had to. It just … didn’t work.”

“No, it didn’t.” He’s a prince and he has to go home, and that means he’s leaving, and this isn’t going to… You felt the tears welling in your eyes, but were determined keep them from falling. “You introduced me to your kid the first night we hung out, Din. I’d say that’s pretty involved.”

It worked - your joke breaking the tension in the room, and when Din let go of your hand to pull you in for a hug, you let him. He buried his face in the side of your throat, and you settled your cheek on the soft tumble of his hair, one hand stroking over the back of his head and neck. He could be the ruler of an entire country at this time next year, and he’s sitting like this with me right now. You held onto each other for long moments, and when Din pulled away, it was only because you said his name, whispering the word softly into his ear.

“Thank you for telling me. At least now I know that it’s not me or something that I did that was keeping you from wanting -”

“Oh, believe me, I want.” His eyes darkened, gaze dropping to your mouth and then rising. “You have no idea.”

“I think I do.” It was a night for honesty, and so you gave it right back to him, allowing yourself to be vulnerable. “I want, too. But we have a tree to finish, right?” He widened his eyes, watching as you leaned in and kissed his cheek before you stood, taking the few steps toward the light switches on the wall. “And before we put the ornaments on, we need to make sure the lights are in the right place.”

Flipping the switch, the room was plunged into darkness, the tree glowing from its place by the sliding glass door. It was self preservation - distracting yourself for your own sake - and so he couldn’t see the few tears you had to wipe away once the lights were down. “Oh, that looks … wow.” He stood and headed for the tree, reaching out to touch the needles. “We did a good job.”

“We did.” Standing next to him, you reached out, too, adjusting a few of the lights and repositioning some of the branches. “Just trying to fill in the dark spots. It’s much easier to see them with the lights off.” It didn’t take long for both of you to be happy with the state of the tree, but before you could move over to flip the switch up, Din stopped you, one of his large hands settling on your waist. “Din?”

“I never meant for this to happen.” Voice low, he stepped closer, his other hand joining the first, both of your arms rising to hook around his neck. “And I’m sorry that I had to dump all this on you. It would have been easier not to tell you. To just let … to just let things go, and deal with it later.”

“It would have.” You were toying with the ends of his hair, a lump in your throat as you spoke. “But I’m glad you didn’t. Says a lot about you as a man, Din.” He hummed in agreement and you realized that the two of you were rocking back and forth slowly in front of the tree, the lights bright enough that you knew he could see the glistening of more unshed tears. “I won’t tell anyone, by the way. Cara and Stacy, I mean. I’ll have to tell them something, but I won’t tell them the important stuff.”

“I appreciate that.” Din leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours and taking a long breath. “I hate that you’ll be lying to them, though.”

“Won’t lie.” You tilted your head back, lips barely apart from his. “I’ll just avoid the whole truth.” His laugh that time was real, and only seconds later he was kissing you, Din’s mouth soft as it met yours. Wait, what… no. I can’t …. This can’t… “Din, I’m sorry.” Breathlessly, you pulled away from him, your hands going to his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to -”

“Don’t apologize.” He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his lips together. “That one was kind of my fault, too.” He let you go then, his hands stroking over your sides before he stepped completely away from you, yours falling back to hang near your waist. “Ornaments?” It took you a little while to recover but when you did, you spoke with resolve.

It wouldn’t do you any good to let yourself get upset by his revelation. Even if he was a prince, Din was still Din, and for the next week, the two of you were competition partners. You could work with him - and you would, both of you too far in to give up or drop out. One event left. One event and then we’ll go back to seeing each other at work, and that’s it

“Yeah, Din. Ornaments.” Bending down, you picked up a few and then held them up. “So you start with the ones that aren’t spherical. And then you use those ones, the round ones? To fill in the places that need it.”

—

A half hour later, you and Din were finished with the ornaments, both of you standing back with your hands on your hips as you eyed the tree. It was less full than yours, the ornaments much more spread out, but with the addition of the lights and skirt, it looked good, and you hoped that Din thought the same.

It had been fun to hang them, the two of you laughing and joking as you did it, your explanation of the way you left the back of your tree mostly bare and using it only as a place for the ugly ornaments making Din laugh hard, one hand rising to rube at his face while his shoulders shook.

It was like his admission had changed something between you - making things almost easier, even though that shouldn’t have been the case at all. But he’d trusted you with arguably his biggest secret, something that it was clear only a tiny handful of people knew - and that spoke volumes to you.

It would all be out in the open soon enough, but Din coming clean with you even though he hadn’t needed to was what kept you from spiraling - it kept you there, in the room with him instead of allowing you to get lost in your thoughts of what it would be like when he was gone.

He hadn’t tried to kiss you again, but he’d still touched you - and you’d done the same - both of you navigating around the tree, ornaments in hand. It was small touches - his hand on your back, your fingers brushing his arm, Din reaching out to adjust ornaments at the same time you did - but it was comfortable, the same way it had been to play the games with him throughout the competition. Because we fit well together.

That was a painful truth, too - and something that you’d have plenty of time to think about later - the fact that you and Din were good together on many levels, but there was no time to explore it. Or not enough time.

When you stepped back to admire your handiwork, Din crossed his arms over his chest again, nodding. “I like it. It looks like … a real tree.”

“It is a real tree. And I’m glad you like it because you’re going to have to look at it for the next couple weeks.” He laughed again, the two of you turning your attention to Grogu only when he stood up and stretched, the dog yawning before making his way to the sliding glass door. “Figures, he slept through the whole thing and now that we’re done, he’s awake.”

“That’s Grogu. If he’s not eating, he’s sleeping. Been that way since I found him.” You moved as he spoke, your hand on the door handle - and when you pulled it open, you gasped at the breeze that blew in and brought a flurry of snow with it. “Is it still snowing?” The dog darted out past your legs, and when you turned the porch light on, Din swore from right behind you, the press of his chest against your back a surprise - but not at all unwelcome. “Shit, it’s really coming down.”

“Yeah…” Closing the door, you slipped past him and toward the front door, climbing the steps slowly and with a sense of growing dread. If it’s snowing that hard, it’s not going to be a fun drive home. “Oh, damn, Din.” You opened the front door and stared out - both cars and the street covered in a thick blanket of white. “I didn’t think it was supposed to pick up until tomorrow, but it …”

“They haven’t plowed yet.” He was behind you again, clearing his throat. “Do you want to check the radar? Or do you want me to drive you home?”

“I can drive.” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sighed. “I’ll just go slow. It’s only a couple inches, and if I don’t leave now, it might not stop til morning, so -”

“I have a spare room. The house was furnished when I moved in, and there’s an extra bed. Grogu sleeps in there sometimes, but he’s the only one that’s ever used it. If it’s too bad for you to drive, you can sleep here and wait til the plows come through.” It was tempting - the thought of sleeping under the same roof as Din - but you didn’t want to appear too eager, especially after what he’d just finished telling you. Because that’s all it would be - sleeping under the same roof.

“It’s just a few minutes away. And if you drive me home, that means you have to drive back in it. Only one of us on the road is better than -”

“Neither of us out in this is even better.” He gestured to your outfit, one hand on his hip. “You’re already in your pajamas. You’re comfortable. Why risk it?”

It was a logical question, and you had no real reason to refuse him. You already knew that he didn’t expect anything from you - that his invitation for you to stay was based on a concern for your well-being and that there was no ulterior motive. He’s just being a nice guy. “Alright.” Closing your eyes, you rubbed at your face. “I don’t want to impose.”

“You aren’t.” He was grinning at you while pointing at the kitchen. “Now I can offer you a drink. I have some bourbon, I can make us a couple spiked hot chocolates?”

“That sounds great.” Stepping away from the door and back toward the kitchen, you stopped behind one of the chairs, settling your hands on the top of the backrest. “Thanks for offering to let me stay, Din.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He was busying himself with a pot on the stove, heating up milk as he stirred it with a long-handled wooden spoon. “I know you’d probably make it home fine, but there’s no reason for you to go. We’re both adults, right?”

“Right.” You continued to watch him, Din adding cocoa mix to the liquid and continuing to stir, his back to you. “Will you tell me more about Mandalore, Din? About your life? I don’t know if you’re allowed to, but -”

“If you want.” He turned his head toward you, nodding. “There’s not really much to tell, though. Aside from the foster homes and boarding school, my life was normal. I dated. Played some sports. Had friends. I just had to be careful as I got older. People know I was friends with Boba, but after he took the throne and started setting up the plans for the future, we saw each other less, at least publicly.” He reached up and into the cupboard, pulling out to large mugs. “The bourbon is in that cupboard by you. Grab it?”

You did as he asked, carrying it over and standing next to him. “Want me to pour it?” He nodded, still stirring. So you added a measure to each cup, lifting the neck of the bottle to your nose and inhaling. “So you’re still friends with him? Even though no one knows how close you are?”

“Yeah. I’m still friends with Fennec, too. We see each other a lot, or… we did, before I came here. But Boba, it’s more … formal now. It has to be. There are a few people in his inner circle that know the plan, and Fennec does too, but it’s a secret. Part of it is because it’s dangerous to identify me before I become Mand’alor, but it’s also because … if people knew? They’d try to use it to their advantage.”

He poured the hot chocolate into the cups, setting the empty pot in the sink and then reaching into another cupboard and pulling out marshmallows. “Their advantage? What do you mean?”

“Boba’s gotten - and turned down a hundred marriage proposals since he took the throne. None of them came before.” Oh. “If people knew that I was going to take his place, and that I’m single?” He dropped three of the fluffy cubes into his drink and then passed the bag to you. “It would be overwhelming.”

“A lot of guys would love that, Din.” You added your marshmallows and then opened one of the drawers - the one you’d seen him grab knives from - for a spoon to stir your drink. “Their choice of women? People throwing themselves at -”

“Don’t get me wrong. Mandalorian women are something else, but …” He sipped from the cup, his eyes closing. “I’d never know if they’re after me or just using me for my title.” Oh, I didn’t… that’s awful. “Boba’s never married, either. And I think that’s part of why he wants to step down. He wants …” Din looked down, waiting until you took a drink to say anything more. “He wants a regular life. And I can’t blame him.”

“Even though it means your life changes?” Din nodded, pointing back at the downstairs level of the house. You headed back there, curling up on the couch while Din added more logs to the fire. “Maybe it won’t be as difficult as you’re thinking. You could have stayed in Mandalore, Din. Found someone that knew you before you took the crown, let them grow into it with you.”

“Part of me’s always known that this would happen.” He let Grogu in and then came to sit next to you after turning the overhead lights off, the mug held between both hands. “I don’t like lying to people. Here, it’s easier because no one knows anything about Mandalore so it doesn’t come up, but there? It’s harder to pretend.” So does that mean he was alright with lying to me? “It was nice to get to know you without worrying. You just thought I was Din, the IT guy with the cute dog.”

“I still do.” Swallowing another mouthful and letting the liquid warm you, you turned toward the man next to you on the couch. “That doesn’t change just because you told me the truth, Din. And we don’t need to talk about this anymore if you don’t want to. Just … give me a heads up before you’re leaving for good, alright? I want to be able to say goodbye.”

That wasn’t what you wanted to say - you wanted to know more, wanted to question Din about his life and his friends and himself. You wanted him to feel free to give you whatever answers he wanted to … but you didn’t want to push. Because I’m no one. I’m going to be a memory for him, and that’s… I don’t get to know everything. “I’m not leaving soon, “ he replied, setting his cup down on the side table. “ It’s not like I’ll be out of here in the next few weeks. Boba promised me at least a year, and that year isn’t up until March.”

“So I get you for another three months?” It slipped out, your eyes going wide as soon as the words finished, and you hastily set your mug down, holding your hands out. “I mean, we, here in Mistletoe, we -”

“Yes.” He leaned in, eyes on you. “You get me for at least another three months.” You were happy for the confirmation, but at the same time, dreaded the passage of time, because it meant that he was leaving - eventually. “And honestly, I don’t mind talking about any of this with you. It’s … a relief that you know. And that you didn’t walk out as soon as I told you.”

“Oh, come on. You really think that little of me?” Licking stray drops of hot cocoa from your lips, you rolled your eyes. “I wouldn’t go anywhere. You didn’t lie to me because you wanted to, you kept something really important and extremely confidential from me. There’s a difference.” Nodding in response, Din watched you wordlessly. “But you don’t have to lie to me, Din. If there’s something you can’t tell me? Just say that it’s about this, and I’ll let it go. I’ll be curious, but I’ll let it go.”

Grogu had laid down by Din’s feet, and after you set your almost empty mug down, you reached forward, scratching between his ears. Almost like clockwork, as you bent down, you felt Din’s hand on your back, the pressure comforting. “I still can’t get over how much he likes you.”

“Yeah, well.” You sat back up, eyes moving to Din as you turned your head. “I like him too, so…” You both laughed. “Want to find something to watch? We’re snowed in, we might as well.”

“Sure.” He settled back and you did, too, crossing your legs and flipping through the channel schedule menu. “Hey, what’s that? Lights, Camera, Christmas? Sounds like -”

“I’m not making you watch a Hallmark Christmas movie, Din. They’re so dumb. They all have the same plot and they’re really sappy, and -”

“But it’s a Christmas movie?” He shifted next to you, the cushions moving under his weight. “Put it on. Might be fun.” So you did, flipping to the channel and setting the remote down on the table in front of you before you settled back, too.

It was cozy - the two of you relaxing on the couch in the near-dark, the room only illuminated by the flickering flames and the soft glow of the tree’s lights, Grogu sleeping at your feet, the snow falling outside. I could get used to this. You sighed, chewing on your lower lip. I could really get used to this, except… I can’t.

As the time passed, you let yourself get more comfortable, Din’s arm stretched out behind you and over the back of the couch. The movie - admittedly - was holding your attention, and you caught yourself smiling a few times, the sound of Din’s quiet laughter from next to you surprising you, too. “I’m going to stretch my legs, sorry.” He moved again, lifting both of them and settling them on the coffee table while you leaned forward and moved your empty mug to the opposite end. “You can too, if you want.” So you did, the new position making it possible to sink deeper into the cushions, the heat of Din’s body next to you lulling you into a contented state as the movie played on.

You opened your eyes a while later, startled awake by the pop of a piece of wood in the fireplace, and realized that you’d fallen asleep, your body gravitating toward Din’s - your side pressed into the place below his arm and your cheek resting against the front of his shoulder. Oh, shit. He was sleeping - quiet, even breaths making his chest rise and fall, and you tried to remain still while you watched him, his features relaxed. We both fell asleep.

Grogu was back on his chair, and the fire had burned low, which meant it had been a while, the movie on TV a different one than you’d started watching. But it doesn’t really matter, they’re all the same anyway.

You didn’t want to wake him, but knew that the right thing to do was to suggest going to sleep - separately - before he could wake up and do the same thing. Just do it. You inhaled, humming out his name. “We fell asleep, Din. C’mon. Let’s go to bed.” The words made your chest ache - you didn’t want to go to sleep in separate rooms. You didn’t want to get off of the couch, or have him remove his arm from where it had fallen to settle around your shoulders. But it’s the best thing to do. “Hey, Din.” You spoke a little louder, resting your hand on his chest. “Come on, bedtime.”

“No.” He mumbled the word, not even bothering to open his eyes as his arm tightened around you. “Comfortable here.” You were, too - but instead of just letting it go, you opened your mouth again.

“Your feet are propped up on a coffee table, Din. That can’t be comfortable.”

“Then we should lay down.” He did open his eyes then - halfway - staring at you with a sleepy smile on his face. “Couch is oversized so we’ll be fine.”

You wanted to say no - you should have said no - but instead you peeled yourself away from him and stood, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch as you looked down at where he was still sitting. “Then lay down, Din.” You caught the surprise in his eyes momentarily, but then he did shift, pulling his feet back and then laying down, stretching out with his back pressed against the thick couch cushions. “Is this a goo -”

“No.” His smile widened. “No, it’s not a good idea, but I want to do it anyway.” You did, too, and so you unfolded the blanket before sitting back down on the edge of the couch. I do, too.

Stretching out next to him, you rested your head on the pillow as you pulled the blanket over the two of you, kicking your foot out so that it covered your entire body. “This alright?” You didn’t recognize your voice, the sound of it thin with apprehension. Shit. The feeling of his arm sliding around your waist and his hand settling against your stomach put you more at ease, your eyelids fluttering shut as you exhaled. “I guess so.”

“As long as it’s alright with you.” He cleared his throat and then leaned in, his mouth just above your ear. “Sleep well.” His breath was warm against your skin and you nodded in reply, eyes still closed as you shifted backwards and into the firm expanse of his body.

“You too, Din.” He didn’t kiss you, but when he pulled his head back, you felt the tip of his nose drag along the skin directly behind your ear and then down before stopping, his arm flexing to draw you even closer.

It would end poorly for you - and you knew it. Din would go back to Mandalore and do his duty as the named heir to the throne, leaving you in Mistletoe. He’d become the face of his country, and his time with you would be nothing but memories to recall when he thought about the past.

There wasn’t a future with him to look forward to - no possibility of getting to know each other over multiple dates and through the changing seasons, no opportunity to talk about moving in together or taking things to the next level. Not even gonna get to go past a kiss, if he sticks to what he said earlier.

But for the first time - and unlike with James - you were content to live in the present and enjoy each moment you had with Din while you could, future be damned. Because no matter what happens, I’ll always have this.

It was you that nodded off first that time, Din’s arm wrapped tightly around you, your easy, even breaths in sync with each other long after you were both sound asleep.

—

Tag list reblog coming soon!

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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

Text

Competing For Christmas 2: Oh, Christmas Tree

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 9,650

Rating: T/M: There’s some language. That’s about it - aside from Din being absolutely charming, which requires a warning on its own.

Summary: It’s getting closer to the beginning of the competition, but there’s an opportunity to squeeze an “early” hangout with Din in ... is he up for it, too?

Author’s notes:

Thank you SO MUCH for the response to part 1. I love this story - and I’m so damn glad you all seem to, too. I appreciate every message and comment and set of tags - please keep them coming!

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open! You should all know the drill by now.

Mando’a translations at the end!

Masterlist / Part 1

By 2 pm on Wednesday, you were counting down the seconds until you could clock out for the long weekend. Even though you’d cleared a lot of your workload throughout the week, it seemed like every one of your clients was having some sort of emergency that desperately needed attention before the end of the day, and you were done.

You’d splurged on an iced coffee after lunch for an extra boost, having it delivered instead of going down to the cafeteria for one of the basic ones, and even though it was down to mostly half-melted ice cubes, it had distracted you some. “But not enough.”

Lowering your head onto your folded arms, you groaned as another new email came in, the little red flag next to it most likely unwarranted. “You, uh, doing alright in here?”

The sound of Din’s voice made you raise your head, spinning in your chair so that you could look at the doorway - and him. “Din? What are you -”

“I’m on my way back to my office. Just finished reinstalling the VPN on that new guy’s computer.” He paused, shifting his weight to the other foot, one hip jutting out. “Something Vanth? I don’t know his first name, all that was on the work order was the initial.” Din paused for long enough to look past you at the computer screen, and you saw him wince at the sight of your open email client. “Looks like you’ve got a full inbox.”

“I do. I’m halfway tempted to unplug the power cord and then not reach out to my IT guy until ten minutes before the day’s over.” He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he stepped fully into your office.

“You could just do what the one lady in sales did last week.” He moved closer, spinning your chair again so you were facing your desk before leaning over your shoulder and pointing at one of the buttons on your laptop’s keyboard. “Just press that button and turn off your trackpad. There’s no light that goes off or anything, so it’s impossible to know what changed without someone taking a thorough look at it.”

His proximity stunned you. Not only was his physical presence imposing - Din’s weight leaning against the back of your chair, along with the underside of his arm brushing against your shoulder was unavoidable - but you were shocked that the air in the room felt different when he was there, too. Are you thorough, Din?

You were still frustrated and exhausted, but you were smiling, the scent of Din’s cologne - spicy and slightly woodsy - thick in your nose. Before answering him, you turned your head and closed your eyes, inhaling. He smells good. Really good. “You being here now defeats the purpose, though.” Finally finding your voice, you sighed. “All you’d have to do is press it again, and then I’d be right back where I started.”

“Now you know for next time.” He straightened up, keeping the hand on the back of your chair. “And since you’re busy I won’t stay too long, I just figured I’d stop in and see what time you wanted to meet on Saturday. I know the thing starts at 7, but I didn’t know if you wanted to meet there, or -”

“That’s probably the best plan.” Sighing, you tapped your fingers on your desktop before looking back over your shoulder at him. “It’s about the same distance from both of our houses, so there’s no point in going out of the way just so we can take the same car.” You shrugged. “That way if we lose horribly, we don’t have to drive back together in angry silence.” He smiled again, nodding. “Got plans for tomorrow?”

“I’m going to catch up on sleep.” He took a long breath, watching you closely. “Make dinner for the two of us, and then just lay on the couch all day in my sweatpants.”

“That sounds amazing.” It did - even though you loved your family, you wouldn’t have said no to the opportunity to do the same as Din - and the idea of spending the day with him and Grogu was more than appealing. Sweatpants? I … “What about Friday? Are you going to the tree lighting? They flip the switch at about 8.”

“I heard about that.” He wet his lips. “Thought about it.”

“You should. Bring Grogu. A lot of people take their dogs. It’s busy but not packed, and he seems like he’s really well behaved when you’re giving him commands, so…”

“Are you going?” You watched his fingers flex against his biceps, your eyes drawn to the movement before they moved up, locking with his. They were warm once again, studying you with an intensity that surprised you, and you knew that there was something else he wanted to ask, but hadn’t.

“I am. My friend Stacy and her husband are going. We’re meeting our other friend Cara for dinner beforehand. She lives a couple hours away now, but always comes home for the holidays, so it’s kind of tradition.” You didn’t add that for the previous three years, James had been there, too, but you figured that he knew just the same. “If you go, let me know. I’d love to see the little… what’d you call him? Whump rat?”

“Womp rat.” Din’s lips twitched. “Just something I heard as a kid, and it fits perfectly for him.”

“I’d love to see the little womp rat again, Din. There are vendors that set up on the street, and some of them usually sell dog treats, so I think he’d have fun, too.”

“Hmm.” He nodded, closing his eyes briefly. “Good to know.” Din sighed then and squinted at your screen. “I should let you get back to work. I’m pretty sure you’ve gotten a couple more emails since I’ve been standing here.” I know. Don’t remind me. You groaned at his words, covering your face with both hands.

“What button did I need to push again?” He laughed as he turned away, heading for the door. “Din? Is it the one with the -”

“Have a good Thanksgiving. I’ll see you later this week.” He paused in the doorway, one hand rising to grip the wooden frame before he turned at the waist, grinning at you. “Don’t start pressing random buttons on your laptop, alright?” There was a challenge in his voice, one eyebrow arched so high that it all but disappeared into a wavy lock of his hair that hung down over his forehead.

“Is it this one?” Reaching behind you, you jabbed blindly at a key. “Or this one? What about -”

“Stop touching things.” He rolled his eyes at you before he narrowed them playfully. “I’m not going to help you.” Keeping a neutral expression on your face, you pushed a third button and Din rolled his eyes again, muttering the word “unbelievable” under his breath before exiting the room completely, his hand lingering on the wooden doorframe until the last possible second.

“I’ll see you on Friday, Din!” You called after him but he didn’t reply, and when you turned back to your computer, you were smiling, despite the fact that he was right and there were more emails that had come in. “That was a nice distraction.”

Admitting it was a lot easier than you’d thought it would be, and when you reached for your cup and sucked the straw between your lips, even the taste of the watered down coffee wasn’t enough to sour your mood.

—

Near the end of dinner Friday, you got a message that didn’t include any text. It was just a picture, and when you opened it, you nearly dropped your phone.

Clumsily grabbing for the device before it hit the table, you didn’t even try to stop your sharp intake of breath, Stacy cutting her husband off mid-sentence to ask you what was wrong. “Nothing’s wrong…it’s just…”

Turning the phone toward her, you chewed on your lower lip. Her eyes widened and she reached out with a fingertip, tapping the screen. “Who’s that?”

“Grogu. Din’s dog. It looks…” You sighed. “It looks like they’re downtown, which means he’s here for the tree lighting.” Like I told him he should be. “Wonder if I’ll run into them.”

“He sent you the picture so that obviously means he wants you to know where it is.” Cara sipped her beer, leaning back in her seat. “I think that means he’s hoping to see you.”

“I agree.” Stacy’s smile widened as you pulled your phone back toward you, eyes on the screen - and the image of the dog staring into the camera, mouth open and tongue hanging out with the familiar sight of the town square’s decorations partially visible behind him. “You’re downtown. They’re downtown. Does he know you’re here?”

“He does. I told him the other day he should come, but he never said whether or not he’d decided to, and…” Trailing off, you let the screen go dark. “I didn’t know.”

“Now you do.” Cara cleared her throat, turning in her seat to signal for your server to bring the check to the table. “And we’re about to pay, which means in less than ten minutes you will also be at the town square.”

“Cara, it -”

“What?” She took the booklet from the woman when it was handed to her, not even looking before she stuffed her credit card into it and then handed it back. “You’re going to say it isn’t that simple? That you don’t know if you’ll see them?” She thanked the waitress quietly before returning the gaze of her dark eyes to you. “Sometimes it is that simple. I haven’t been around much lately, but you’re single. He’s single. It’s been a couple weeks since you and James have even spoken, even though he’s still living here. You wouldn’t be doing anything wrong. And it’s not like I’m suggesting you marry him, but when the hot guy with the cute dog sends you a picture of said cute dog being extraordinarily adorable out of nowhere… you should go with it.”

The four of you sat there in stunned silence at her outburst, the chatter of the other restaurant patrons loud in your ears. She’s right, but… “Can I say something?” Joseph - Stacy’s husband - cleared his throat. “I never really liked James, and I think Cara’s right.”

“What?” In disbelief, you leaned in, mouth dropping open. “I was with him for years. We always went out places together. I had no idea. I -”

“I wasn’t allowed to say anything.” He sighed. “Stacy told me I couldn’t be a dick about it because the two of you were together, so I tolerated him the same way she did. But man was it hard sometimes.” He went quiet as Cara’s card and the receipt came back, the woman taking it and then signing it with a flourish. “I don’t know this Din at all, but Cara’s got a point. There’s no reason for you not to have fun this year. You finally have a real partner for this competition and won’t have to pull the dead weight, and it sounds like this guy is…” He trailed off, searching for the right word, and his wife supplied it for him, reaching out to cover his hand with her own.

“Worth it.” She grinned at you, eyes full of mischief. “And you know it.”

From the limited interactions you’d had with Din, you agreed, but you knew that there was more to him that you didn’t know - and that you had to be careful. “I’ll text him back.” You held up a finger to interrupt both women, whose mouths opened to respond to you. “On one condition.” Lips pressed together, they stayed quiet, waiting. “The two of you cannot intervene in this. Whatever happens, I want it to happen because Din and I are -”

“Deal.” Stacy held up both hands, nodding. “As long as you do something. I just don’t want to sit here and watch you pass up on a good thing because you’re still thinking about James or worrying about what might happen later on.”

“I have a condition, too.” Of course you do. Cara stuck her tongue into her cheek and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t just keep this about the competition. Get to know him. You have what, five nights with him over the course of the next month after tonight?” Nodding in agreement, you eyed her, waiting for the other boot to drop. “I will sit back and let you blow it if that’s what it comes down to, as long as I can see that you’re making an attempt not to let that happen.”

You laughed at her, the woman’s expression serious, but soon enough all four of you were grinning as you stood from the table, putting your coats on. “Alright, Cara, Stacy. I will try to get to know Din. I will try to make it about more than the competition. I will try to let myself… connect with him, if that’s what he wants.” Joseph winked at you, wetting his lips.

“Shouldn’t you start by telling him you’re heading over to the tree lighting, then?” Stacy rose onto her toes and kissed his cheek, her husband’s arms going around her waist. “You did just promise my wife that - “

Grumbling as you zipped your jacket, you reached for your phone and opened Din’s message, hesitating briefly before you typed a reply.

We just finished dinner and are heading over to the square. Are you and Grogu still around?

Flicking the phone from silent to not, you pressed send - all four of you hearing the confirmation as the message was delivered. “Happy?” Cara was - you could see it in her eyes, and even Stacy looked relieved. You understood that - she’d been around during the breakdown of your relationship and the immediate aftermath, and had seen how the changes had impacted you. And she’ll see this too. She’ll see how …

Your thoughts interrupted by an incoming message sound and a vibration in your hand, you bit your lip at Din’s reply.

We are. There somewhere we can wait for you?

It took only seconds for you to think of an answer, the words of your friends echoing in your head. It’s just a couple weeks. And he seems like a nice guy, even if he’s … withdrawn.

There’s a statue on Maple and Main outside of the parking garage… that might be a good place?

You followed your friends outside, not bothering to put the phone away while you waited to see Din’s response. And he started typing almost immediately, the little dots appearing on the screen before you’d even made it a few steps down the sidewalk.

We’ll be there. He was typing again, and then stopped… but to your surprise another message came through seconds later, almost like he’d sent it before he could stop himself. See you in a few.

—

You saw Din before he got eyes on you, and before you could even react, Cara was reacting for the group. “Holy shit, he’s good looking.” She whistled as you exited the garage and turned toward the statue, and the woman’s jaw dropped at the sight of Din and his dog. “How have you not shown me a picture of him before now?”

“He doesn’t have social media.” You shrugged, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “Actually, until he took a picture for the website the other night, I hadn’t even seen a picture of him, so…” It was a little strange but you couldn’t fault him for it; you had a few other friends without an online presence. But if he had one, it’d be easier to make friends.

The closer you got, the sharper the man’s details became, and you felt something building in your chest at the sight of him. It felt strangely like hope, the promise of something new and exciting, even though everything was an unknown. Getting to know Din over time and through a variety of different methods almost seemed like it was too good an opportunity to be true. But it’s not, because he’s… he’s right here.

Din was dressed comfortably though you could tell he was warm - a pair of dark jeans and boots, a puffy gray utility jacket, the light from above making it shine silver. It had a hood, but he wasn’t wearing it - instead he had a dark knit hat on, pulled low over his ears. But the hat couldn’t hide all of his hair, one longer lock curling out from under the band of it and over his eyebrow, much the same way it had in the office earlier in the week.

It makes him look younger. But you absolutely agreed with the remainder of Cara’s assessment of him, and when you were close enough, you took a deep breath and called out his name before you lost your nerve, drawing his attention from the leashed dog at his feet.

He turned toward you almost immediately, lips curving upward into a smile as he said hello followed by your name. “You made it.” He’s never looked at me like that before.

“I did.” And I want him to do it again. Grogu was whining, the leash taut in Din’s hand as he attempted to get closer to you. For the moment, though, you ignored him, instead focusing on him. “We did. Din, these are my friends.” Introducing them quickly, you were happy to see that he greeted each of them with genuine interest, reaching out to shake Joseph’s hand and telling Cara and Stacy that it was great to meet them.

“And this is Grogu. Like I told her the other night, he might bark a little bit, but he doesn’t bite.” Grogu’s tail wagged furiously as Stacy knelt down to pet him, Cara not far behind. While they exclaimed over the dog, you kept your attention on Din, surprised to see that he wasn’t paying attention your friends and was instead focused on you, a tiny smirk still on his lips. “You were right.” He put his free hand on his hip. “We’ve seen more dogs tonight than I thought. Grogu’s loving all the new friends.”

“Good.” Casting a glance down, you took a step closer to Din as your friends kept petting the dog’s soft fur. “Did you find the vendors?”

“I thought I’d wait til you got here.” It was a simple statement, but it made your eyes widen nonetheless, Din’s casual shrug doing nothing to lessen the impact of his words. “Figured you could show us where the good ones were.”

“She can and she will.” Stacy stood, moving over to squeeze your elbow. “We’re going to go and find the hot chocolate.” Stacy, what are you doing? Leaving me here? You … But you realized that she was doing exactly what they’d promised to do: letting you lead, letting things evolve without their interference. “Text me later if you want.”

Assuring her that you would, you turned to say goodbye to Cara, too, catching the woman’s eye - and the look in it. I know. I know, Cara. “It was nice to meet you.” Din raised one hand in a wave, the others saying goodbye shortly after. As they walked away, Stacy cast one last look over her shoulder at Grogu before they turned the corner and disappeared, leaving the three of you alone. “That was subtle.”

Din’s comment surprised you, your lips parting as your attention returned to him. “Din, it’s not like -”

“No, I get it.” He closed his eyes, scoffing. “Believe me, my… friends at home are the same way sometimes. I know how it is.”

You wanted to ask him more - to know about his friends and where he was from, but didn’t want to pry and so you didn’t risk it. You finally took your turn crouching down and greeting Grogu, both of your hands going to his face much like Din’s had the night at his house.

He licked your nose and inched even closer as you laughed, your hand moving back to his neck and shoulder. “Hey big guy.” He barked and then crowded against you, turning in a slow circle as you continued to pet him. “You’re excited tonight, hmm?”

“He is.” Din’s voice interrupted you and when you looked up, locking eyes with him, you realized what position you were in. Shit. Your hands froze on Grogu, a single breath escaping from between your parted lips. Oh, this … You watched Din’s fingers flex; curling into loose fists as he watched you, and despite the brevity of the moment that passed between you, you couldn’t deny the heat that ignited in your belly at the sight of him above you. Stop it. Stop it now, this is … “If you …” Din finally spoke after drawing in a deep breath and blinking rapidly, breaking the tension. “If you ever want him to stop, say Gev. Down is daab.”

You repeated the words to yourself and then looked away from Din and back at the dog. You were skeptical that he’d listen to you, especially with Din so close. “Gev, Grogu.” Even though you spoke quietly, the single command was enough. He went still and then backed off, settling on his haunches next to Din’s legs. “Holy shit. Really?” You glanced up again and then stood, the smile on your face growing. “What… what language is that?”

“Mando’a.” He shrugged. “I learned it as a kid, and when I found Grogu, I wanted to make sure that he listened.” You started walking toward the center of town again, Din next to you. “How many people say stop or sit or down or no on a daily basis? So teaching him in a different language made sense.”

“It does.” You stepped closer to avoid a couple moving in the other direction, your elbow brushing against Din’s. “That’s smart. So now when he hears it, he knows you’re the one saying it, so he has to listen.”

“Yeah.” Din sighed, winding the leash a little tighter around his hand as the crowd materialized in front of you. “And he usually does.”

“Does he know any English commands?”

“He knows food and eat.” You laughed loudly at that, covering your mouth with one hand, eyes going back to the man sitting next to you. “Walk. Outside.” Din looked down and then leaned closer to you, lowering his voice. “Treat.”

At that, Grogu barked, twisting around to face the two of you again, tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Oh, you definitely know that one, don’t you.” Both you and Din laughed, continuing the walk along the sidewalk and toward the tents that lined the street further down. “Maybe one of these booths will have something for you to snack on, buddy.” Pausing, you looked back up at Din. “If he’s allowed, I mean.”

“Of course he is.” Din grinned at you, the warmth in his expression chasing the chill from the air. “And he’s not too picky, so…”

You figured that the dog would eat just about anything, so the confirmation wasn’t much of a surprise. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to pick something good. You passed a few vendors - people selling Christmas ornaments and wreaths, hand-made blankets and carvings; even a few stands that were filled with soaps and candles.

You didn’t see anything for pets, but Din didn’t seem to mind much, asking you questions about some of the stands as you passed them. He’d shortened Grogu’s leash to keep him even closer, and you were happy to see that he was well-behaved, staying near his side and not tugging to run ahead.

“You said they turn on the tree at 8?” He paused at the end of one set of tents turning to face you. “We’ve only got a little longer than half hour left.” Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your phone and checked the time, finding that he was right. Shit.

“I didn’t realize it was so late, Din. I’m sorry.” I really am, because it means that I’ll have to leave sooner. “But yeah, it’s getting close. So we should find Grogu a snack and then -”

“And then maybe we should find some of that hot chocolate your friend mentioned for ourselves.” He elbowed you gently, shifting closer. “If it was good enough that they ran off right away to find it….” He trailed off and it made you laugh, the three of you beginning to move again, that time toward a smaller grouping of stands.

“It is good, Din.” You didn’t have time to say more than that because you caught sight of the booth you’d been looking for out of the corner of one eye, reaching out with your hand to alert him. “Dog treats on your right.”

He corrected course immediately, leading you and Grogu to the table. “Hi!” The woman behind it greeted you with a wave, eyes darting between you and Din and then down to Grogu. “Looks like the three of you - and especially the little guy - are in need of some snacks.”

“I think he’d like that.” Din cleared his throat. “His name’s -”

“Grogu. I can see it on his collar. I’m not calling him that though. I’m gonna call him Bright Eyes because that’s exactly what this little cutie has.” She stepped around from the table and then crouched down, her gloved hands shooting out to ruffle the dog’s ears. “Isn’t it.” He moved closer, tail wagging, and before Din could tell him to stay down, the dog was on his hind legs, front paws resting on the woman’s knees. “What do you like, little guy? Pig’s ears? Peanut butter? Bacon?”

The wagging of Grogu’s tail sped up with each word the woman spoke, but it wasn’t until she leaned in and kissed him on the nose before rising to her feet that he barked, a happy sound that you could hear even over the crowd around you. “He likes all of it.”

“I know.” She turned and headed back behind the table, holding one hand - and one finger - up. “He looks like he’d eat just about anything but I’ve got just the right …” She bent down and then popped up a few seconds later, a triumphant smile on her face. “Homemade. Dogs love ‘em. Fun shape makes ‘em different. Here you go Bright Eyes, how about this one?”

She rounded the table again and held up what she had in her hand - and while you barely contained your laugher, Din wasn’t able to do the same. “Is that a … frog?”

“It sure is!” The woman nodded once, holding the treat up. “Good for the teeth and the gums. Gets all the crud outta there and it tastes good.” She paused, sucking in a breath and then looked back at Grogu. “Wanna try it?”

He was sitting again, paws neatly placed in front of his body, tail thumping on the ground. You watched him tilt his head back, sniffing the air, and then the dog’s tongue poked out of his mouth as he licked his chops. He does. Look at him. “I’ll pay for it, Din.” Reaching for your purse, you pulled out your wallet. “How much?”

“Couple bucks.” She waved her free hand, bending over again as she lowered her hand. “You can put it in the thing on the table if he likes it.”

“Puhoi, Grogu.” Din’s low voice from next to you made the dog whine quietly, but when the treat was just in front of Grogu’s mouth, you were shocked to see that he remained in place, shifting his paws but otherwise not moving. The woman paused and then looked up at Din, and though it pained you to do so, you looked away from him and at the dog, waiting to see what would happen next. “Hiibir bic.” And then he moved - the dog gently taking the treat from between the woman’s fingers and closing his jaws around it, rising onto all four feet and taking a step back before he set it down, sniffing it.

“Look at that,” the woman exclaimed, her grin returning full force. “I’ve never had a -”

But her words were cut off by Grogu inhaling the frog-shaped treat, chomping down on it with vigor. It crunched into tiny pieces and he devoured them in only a few seconds, nose moving along the ground followed by his tongue to catch any crumbs that he might have missed. That’s more like it. Laughing along with them, you moved around the woman’s body and put the money into the waiting container, fingers deftly picking up one of her business cards from the displayed stack. Peli Motto. Never heard of her before; she must be from out of town.

“Well thank you, Peli.” You held the card up as you stepped back next to Din. “I definitely see a few more of these things in Grogu’s future.” You didn’t know if that was actually going to be the case, but you hoped it would be, especially with how quickly he’d eaten the treat. “I’ll check out the website, and -”

“It’s all there.” She waved her hand again before bending down to scratch at Grogu’s back, the dog nudging against her calf. “Frogs and biscuits and bones and jerky and everything you can think of. I’ve also got a site for my other businesses, and there’s a link on the pet page if you decide to look through it.” She straightened up, looking between you and Din. “Somea the stuff I sell is perfect for couples, and -”

“We’re not a couple.” You interjected before she could get too carried away - and before Din could question why you were letting the assumption slide. “Just friends. But thank you, we’ll take a look.”

She stood straight up again and then stepped back, her attention shifting momentarily from you and Din to another person that was hovering nearby. “If you say so.” She shrugged. “Glad he likes that one though. It’s very popular. And I sell a ton of ‘em for the holidays so if you’re going to want some, make sure you get your order in soon.” She eyed Din again, one hand on her hip. “I do offer expedited production and delivery for a fee, so…”

“You’ll be the first one I call.” Din’s lips twitched into a small smile and then he nodded. “Thank you again. You made his day.” She gave the three of you another nod and then turned her full attention to the new people, the sudden departure blanketing you and Din in relative silence. That was a lot. “Ready to find that hot chocolate?”

“Sure.” Sticking your hands in your pockets as you headed back for the main tree, Din tugged on Grogu’s leash to pull him with you. “And if you don’t want to wait in line with him, we’ll find a spot and then I can go.”

“Is every year like this?” He avoided your offer, gesturing to the people in front of and around you with his free hand. “For the tree lighting?”

“It’s usually not this busy, actually.” You sidestepped a small group of teenagers, bumping into Din’s side as you did. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He steadied you with one large hand, palm resting at the center of your back - and even through your jacket, you could feel it; the pressure welcome and sending a thrumming energy through you. Oh no. “You alright?”

“I’m fine. I didn’t run into any of them.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “Anyway, it’s usually not this busy, but because it’s been nice the last couple days … everyone’s here.”

“Yeah, almost all the snow’s melted.” The three of you reached the corner of the street where the tree was, the brightly colored lights on the food trucks cutting through the darkness. “I was surprised. What happens if there’s no snow for the snowman thing?”

“That’s why it’s not first.” You pointed out the hot chocolate truck, squinting to try and see the line. “Three weeks in gives them plenty of time to figure something out if they need to. I’m sure there’s a backup plan, but we’ve never had to use it… and I’m sure we won’t this year, either.”

He stayed quiet for a few seconds and then Din said your name, turning toward you. “I hope you’re right.” Pulling his lower lip back and between his teeth, he stared at you for long moments, staying silent. What’s going on, Din? You wanted to ask but didn’t know how to, your fingers curling into loose fists inside of your pockets. “Look.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “I’ll let you stay here with Grogu, if this is a good spot.”

“What?” He held out the leash, the smile returning to his face. “Din, he -”

“He’ll be good.” Din’s eyes flicked down and then back up, “It’s only a few minutes.” Pulling one hand free from your pocket, you took the handle, fingers threading through the loop and then closing around it, the majority of it resting against the back of your wrist. “Wait here?”

“I might move a little closer to those trees.” You gestured with your chin. “But I’ll be there.” When he turned away from you, you said his name, stopping Din in his tracks. “Do you want money? I -”

“No. You bought him that frog. I’ve got it.” He waved you off with one hand. “Marshmallows or whipped cream? What do you like?”

“Marshmallows.” Biting your lower lip in thought, you narrowed your eyes. “And if they’ve got those little candy canes, grab me one of those, too. Please.” He assured you that he would and then Din began moving again, disappearing into the crowd. You watched until you couldn’t see him anymore and then turned your attention to Grogu, saying the dog’s name. “C’mon pal. We’re gonna get to a better spot, alright?”

He went willingly as you weaved through the crowd and about fifteen feet to your right. It wasn’t any closer to the main tree, but the ground where you were standing sloped up and back, elevating you a few feet over the rest of the crowd - and giving you a better view of everything beneath you.

As you let yourself watch what was happening, you zoned out, head tilted to one side and your fingers holding the leash tightly. I’m here with … James hadn’t ever wanted to go to the tree lighting with you, citing the hectic nature of the night along with the long lines at the concession stands - and the traffic jam that getting out of the parking garages could become. And I never fought it. You’d gone every year without him - meeting friends or going alone - but it had never felt perfect; there’d always been something missing.

And you hated to admit it, but the missing piece was someone there with you because they wanted to be - someone that wasn’t just a friend that you’d known for years. You loathed being a third wheel, and even though Stacy and Joseph never made you feel unwanted, you couldn’t help it sometimes. “It’s weird, right Grogu?” Looking down, you watched as he lowered himself onto the ground, paws outstretched in front of him before he settled his nose between them. “This is the first time I’m not here with my friends in about a million years.”

He didn’t reply - or look up - so you returned your attention to the crowd, trying to see if you could spot your friends. I should text them. I should let them know where I am. Pulling your phone out, you saw that there was a message from Cara. What does she want?

Saw Din in the hot cocoa line by himself. Did you scare him off already?

You fought back a laugh at that, sliding the loop of Grogu’s leash all the way back and around your wrist so that you could type.

No, I’m waiting with Grogu by the trees on the hill. He offered to go.

She began typing back almost immediately, and her reply was blunt - though not unexpected.

You can tell me where you’re at all you want, but you’re on your own. We’re staying where we are… and so are you. And Din.

“I knew it.” Groaning, you rolled your eyes and sent a message back,chewing on the inside of your cheek.

Fine. But I still need a ride back to my car later.

She took a few seconds to respond, the bubble appearing and disappearing at the bottom of the message multiple times.

You know where we’re parked.

Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you shuffled your feet and then stuck your hands back in your pockets, seeking out the warmth. Even though it had been warmer, the temperature drop after dark made things chilly. The cup will warm my hands up when he gets back.

As the minutes passed and people’s attention turned toward the main tree, the crowd gathered around it growing steadily larger, you wondered if Din was going to make it back in time. I’d hate that. I wouldn’t want him to miss the tree getting turned on, especially since -

“Hey. I’m back.” Looking to the left, you saw Din approaching, two green cups with lids in his hands. “Sorry it took so long.”

“You made it back just in time.” You took one cup, shaking the leash back to between your fingers before you held it out to Din. “Got a couple more minutes.” He took the loop from you, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at the way his fingers looked against the dark rope, his palm nearly swallowing the braided material as he closed them around it. “The view’s much better up here.”

“It is.” He moved a little closer to you, Grogu still laying on the ground at your feet. “I saw your friends while I was in line. They pretended that they didn’t see me.”

“I’m going to be honest with you, Din.” Sipping the cocoa, you licked your lips clean. “They’re trying to convince me to … I don’t even know what, exactly, and …”

“They’re being good friends.” He took a drink, too, shoulders rising and falling in a shrug. “I take it they’re not trying to wait and see if you end up back with your ex?”

“God no.” You rolled your eyes. “Stacy pretty much threw a party when we broke up, and Cara wasn’t a huge fan, either. I could probably pick any random man in this crowd and they’d approve more than they did with James.” He laughed, the sound quiet - but you still heard it.

“So they ignored me so I couldn’t tell them where we were standing?”

“Yes.” The taste of chocolate coated your tongue, warmth seeping through your body a little more each passing second. “I sent a text to Cara, and she pretty much told me that I was on my own until it was time to leave.”

“Could be worse, right?” Din turned his head toward you, gifting you with an eyeful of his profile.

You’d looked at him before, but that night - with the soft glow of the overhead lights shining through the tree branches and from behind him, you saw him in a new light. The curved bridge of his nose, his full lips, the well-kept mustache and short, stubbly beard … all of it separately was attractive, but everything together - and there with you - made your stomach flip.

With every second that he spent watching you, it became more and more apparent that the crush you had on him wasn’t going to go away. And we still have five events to do together. This is .. bad. This is going to be … hard.

“I mean… you could be alone, or not have hot chocolate, or…” He trailed off and you were overcome with the desire to hug him, though you stopped yourself, tightening your grip on your cup. “Oh, speaking of …” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two plastic-wrapped candy canes, holding one out to you. “Sorry, I forgot to give this to you.”

You took it from him, plucking the peppermint stick from his fingers and deftly opening it with one hand before you stuck one end between your lips, sucking. Not only did it distract you from what you’d been thinking about, it gave you a few extra seconds to come up with a response. Make it funny. Make it so that he doesn’t think you think this is more than it is.

“You know,” you finally said as you pulled the candy cane from between your lips. “I always thought that if you were a single person out somewhere with a cute dog, there’d be people lining up to talk to you.” You used the candy to point down at Grogu. “But you left me with him for like ten minutes, and no one came up to me, Din. I think your dog’s broken.”

“Definitely not.” Din swallowed a gulp of cocoa and shook his head, licking his lips. “I had at least three women walk up to me before you got here and tell me how cute he was.” Of course you did, but that has nothing to do with the dog. “And when we’re walking, people are always asking about him, too.”

“Must be me then.” You muttered the words, unable to stop yourself. I -”

“No.” He turned toward you, angling his body so that he faced you without needing to turn his head. “It’s definitely not you.” You felt the weight of his stare - his gaze warm and pulling you in, heating you from the inside out more than the hot chocolate ever could have.

“Din, you -”

But before you could say anything else, you heard feedback through the microphone on the square, the sound making you wince and Grogu whine, the dog getting to his feet. “Ouch.” Din winced too, ducking his head and averting his eyes. “You alright, pal?” You looked, finding Grogu’s face peeking out from behind Din’s calves, head tilted so that he could look up. “I know it was loud.”

The moment was broken - and while part of you was thankful, another part of you was upset, the idea of never knowing what you might have said or what might have happened if you hadn’t been interrupted something that you knew would gnaw at you. But it’s better this way. “They’re starting.” You pointed, saying Din’s name. “That’s the mayor and then the winners from last year’s competition.”

“What are they doing up there?” He spoke loudly to be heard over the sound of increasing cheers and clapping, and instead of raising your voice to yell, you shifted closer, turning your head so that you could speak directly into his ear.

“They flip the switch.” You paused, trying to disguise your shiver at the way Din moved, too,closing the distance between you even more. “That’s one of the prizes that stays the same every year. The winners are a part of the tree lighting.”

“So that’s gonna be us next year?” He turned his head to look at you, lips pushed out into a smirk. “Standing up there with everyone watching us?” Wait, what?

“Thought you said I shouldn’t expect anything from you.” You spoke breathlessly, your fingers tightening around your cup as your heart hammered behind your ribcage. “Because -”

“I changed my mind.” He wet his lips, the tip of his tongue flashing into and out of view. “I want to win.” And you said I’m the competitive one. A laugh escaped you then, your nose wrinkling as you shut your eyes, nodding. “What?”

“Well if you’ve changed your mind, Din, then I guess we have to win.” He was grinning at you when you opened your eyes again, but before he could speak, the sound of the Mayor’s voice interrupted, welcoming everyone to the celebration.

The two of you faced forward, eyes on the man and two women that stood next to him, the three of them wearing colorful coats and hats. And even though you were paying attention to what was happening - the announcer reintroducing the winners with a broad sweep of his arm, thanking all of the vendors for being present, wishing everyone a happy holiday season - you were much more aware of Din’s presence beside you than anything else.

He hadn’t moved away again, the heat radiating off of his body along with the scent of his cologne, and for a few minutes, you let your mind wander, imagining what it would be like to know that you got to attend events with him, to casually reach over and take Grogu’s leash from his hand and wind it around yours, to be able to lean over and rest your head against his - “Hey.”

Din’s voice cut through your thoughts, forcing your attention back onto him just as the Mayor was reminding everyone that the contest began the following night, and that an updated schedule of events was available 24/7 online. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for inviting me.” The smirk had turned into a soft smile, Din’s eyes warm beneath the band of his hat. “I’ve never been to anything like -” There was a smattering of applause that was accompanied with a countdown, and with some regret, you closed your eyes and gritted your teeth. Dammit.

“You probably want to watch this, Din.” Even though you were annoyed that your conversations kept getting interrupted, you couldn’t deny the excitement you felt at the fact that you were only moments away from the true start of the holiday season. “Look at the tree.”

He did - and you did, too, your breath catching as the two women stepped forward and reached out for the oversized switch, their fingers closing around it as the residents of the town began to count backwards from 10.

When they hit 3, you shifted on both feet, glancing down to see that Grogu was sitting again, paws neatly arranged and his ears perked up toward the sound of the crowd. Good boy, Grogu. You smiled at the sight and then looked back at the tree, biting down on your lower lip as the switch flipped - and then a few seconds later, the lights on the tree came on, followed by strings of them leading out and away from it and over the square.

“Oh, dank farrik.” Din’s voice was filled with awe, and as you looked over at him, you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at his expression, his eyes wide and his pupils huge. As the lights continued to turn on in succession, you briefly closed your eyes again, taking a deep breath. “Whoa!”

Reopening them, you watched Din’s neck stretch as he looked up, his eyes on the branches above you, which were strung with hundreds of tiny multicolored lights. “Surprise, Din.” Before you could stop yourself, you reached over, laying your hand on his arm. “When I said we decorate here, we decorate.”

“You weren’t kidding.” When he looked back at you, the awe was still there, though there was a deep crease between his brows as he stared at you. “This is …” He trailed off, frowning. “Everything at home is so formal when it comes to the holidays, and … I’ve never…”

“Can’t say that anymore.” You tightened your grip on his arm, fingers sinking into the soft, puffy material of his coat. “And it only gets better.” He eyed you for a few more seconds and then looked away, his attention moving over the lights and the crowd before it honed back in on the tree, Din smiling again. “You should bring Grogu back here at night sometime.”

Letting go of his arm, you crouched down, setting your cup between your feet and reaching over to pet the dog, fingers moving slowly through the short fur on the top of his head. “Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm.” He leaned into your touch, whining softly when you scratched him behind the ears. “It’s a good photo op. There’s a little wall that you can have him jump up and sit on, the tree’s perfectly placed behind it. You can sent it back home so everyone can see him.” Din stayed silent, even as you picked the cup back up and stood, taking a sip. “Wait a week or so and get some snow in there, and it looks like a Christmas card.”

“You could come with us.” He turned to face you, lifting one shoulder in a shrug as he took a drink, too. “Show us the right spot.” I’d… I’d love that. You wanted to reply immediately but forced yourself not to, instead taking a deep breath and nodding. Don’t let him see how much you want that.

“If you want.” You finished your cocoa, lowering the cup to your side. “And that way you’ll have someone to take a picture of the two of you.” You saw the confusion return, his eyes narrowing briefly. What did I say? I didn’t mean to… “Din?”

“There you are!” You swore under your breath and unless you imagining it, so did he, but both of you turned toward the sound and watched as your friends headed through the crowd and toward you, Cara holding a cup similar to yours and Stacy and Joseph behind her, their hands linked. “Well, what do you think, Din? You like the lights?”

“I … do.” He nodded at them, winding Grogu’s leash tighter around his hand. “There are a lot more of them than I thought. And I’m used to only white lights, so…” You are? His smile widened, Din nodding. “I like this.”

“A lot of the buildings decorate, too.” Cara swigged from her cup and then grinned. “You’ll see that tomorrow at trivia, to start.”

“I’m sure I will.” Din looked from your friend back to you, a flash of disappointment in his eyes. “But we should probably get going now so we can beat the crowd.” Oh. You’d known it was coming - the time that you had to separate - but you were disappointed, too, the abrupt arrival of your friends changing the feeling of the night. “And that way I can get home in time to study.”

“Study?” You grinned. “Din, are you going to go home and look up -”

“I am.” He straightened up and set his shoulders, his attention fully on you. “Just going to look at a couple things.” He arched a brow, head cocked slightly to one side? “Any recommendations for where to start?”

“I’ll text you a couple links.” You pressed your lips together, warmth toward him filling your chest. He’s taking this seriously. It’s just a stupid contest, and … “If that’s ok?”

“Yeah.” He took a breath and released it, finally looking away from you and at Grogu. “But I should go and get him home. It was … I had a good time tonight. Thank you for telling me about it.”

“This is only the beginning.” Stacy spoke up, her head resting on her husband’s shoulder. “If you had a good time here, you’ll love the rest of Mistletoe’s Christmas.”

“I hope so.” Eyes darting back to you, Din opened his mouth and then closed it, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yep.” You stepped back and toward your friends, making the first move to put space between yourself and Din “Have a good night, Din.” You looked down, your smile growing. “You too, Grogu.” Din’s mouth moved but you couldn’t make out what he said - though as soon as he stopped, Grogu barked happily, his tail thumping against Din’s leg. I’ll have to ask him about that.

“G’night, Din.” Cara held up a hand in a wave, the woman reaching over to link arms with you. “See you around.”

As she pulled you away, you looked back over your shoulder at him, finding that Din was watching you with a small smile on his face, one hand stuffed into the pocket of his jacket. Mouthing the word “goodnight” at him, you watched Din nod once before you faced forward, Cara tugging you closer as Stacy and Joseph led the way back to the car.

Once he was out of earshot, you wrenched yourself free, tossing your cup into a trash can before facing your friend. “What was that? You said that you’d let what happened happen. That you wouldn’t interfere, and -”

“I said we’d stay out of it when it came to getting the two of you together or manipulating that.” Cara looked to the side at you, shrugging. “But I didn’t say anything about cutting in in an attempt to pull you apart.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” You were confused at her logic, the four of you continuing to walk back toward the car. “Cara, what do -”

“We watched you all night.” Stacy spoke up, clearing her throat. “We needed to pull you out of there before the two of you got too far ahead of yourselves.” Ahead of ourselves? “There’s definitely a connection there, but there’s no reason for you to rush anything.”

“Rush anything?” Laughing as the parking garage came into view, you rubbed at your forehead. “Don’t sabotage myself, but don’t go too fast, try to get to know him but don’t get too close. What the hell am I supposed to -”

“You just broke up with Captain Asshole, and you might not know Din well,but he’s aware that you were together for a while.” All of you crowded into the elevator, Cara’s arms crossed over her chest and her dark eyes locked with yours. “If you rush into anything with him, or … cross a line with him now, you might regret it. And he might, too.” Oh. That… makes sense.

Stacy spoke up next. “We won’t be there every time you’re with him, but tonight? This is the first night, and since the competition is starting tomorrow, we wanted to make sure it wasn’t… that it didn’t get awkward.” That made sense to you, even though you didn’t want to admit it. “It’s easy to get caught up in the moment. We’ve all done it. But this is … different. And you said you weren’t looking for anything, so -”

“I agree with you.” Sliding into the backseat, you leaned your head back, eyes closed. “I’m not looking for anything. But it’s hard to remember that when …”

“When you’re standing next to someone like Din?” Stacy looked back at you from the front seat, grinning. “Understandable.” Even Joseph laughed at that, and as he pulled out of the garage and onto the main street, you settled back into the seat, eyes out the window. I’m not looking for anything … and even if I was, he… he hasn’t dated anyone the whole time he’s been here, and… shit.

—

An hour later, you were changed into your pajamas and ready for bed, though you decided to watch a movie before heading up to your room.

After settling on the couch and wrapping a blanket around your shoulders, you pulled your phone out and debated over whether or not to text Din. I said I would. Chewing on your lower lip, you started at the screen and then unlocked it, opening your texts.

The picture of Grogu was the first thing you saw, and you couldn’t keep the smile off of your face as you stared at him, the dog’s large eyes bright and focused on the camera - and on Din, in turn. It won’t hurt anything.

A few minutes later, you’d put three different links into a single message, thumb hovering over the send button. It’s just research. You sent the message and then immediately followed it up with another to explain yourself.

Just some light reading for you. They usually go pretty heavy on the general trivia.

It took a few seconds but when Din opened the messages, he began typing back almost immediately - and his answer was not what you expected.

Got it. Thanks, I’ll take a look.

Maybe he’s upset at how I left tonight? You hoped that wasn’t the case - that your friends hadn’t inadvertently ruined things for you while doing what they thought they could to help. Or maybe he’s having second thoughts about tomorrow.

Deciding to send one message back - a smiley face with a simple you’re welcome - you were in the middle of typing when another message from Din came through.

I had fun tonight. It was nice to get out with Grogu … and you.

You nearly dropped your phone at that, and spent the next 60 seconds staring at the screen, mouth hanging open. What? “How do I even respond to that?” You needed to - and you knew it, but you didn’t know what the appropriate reply was, especially after your friends had cautioned you earlier. I just have to be … careful.

I’m glad. I did too.

It felt hollow, though, and as soon as you sent it and reread the message, you were typing again, pressing send again before you could stop yourself.

Can’t wait for tomorrow.

You didn’t expect a reply from Din, but when your phone buzzed again moments later, you let out a breath, covering your mouth with one hand and sighing in relief.

I can’t either.

—

Puhoi = slow

Hiibir bic = take it

Jorhaa'ir = speak

#din djarin x reader #din x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian au #pedro pascal character #din djarin modern au #IT guy din #star wars #star wars fic #hallmark christmas 2022 #competing for christmas #christmas story 2022 #grogu #din and grogu but in a new way #choose your holiday 2022 adventure #christmas fluff #ALL the holiday tropes #din djarin masterlist #competing for christmas masterlist

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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

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Competing For Christmas 1: The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,584

Rating: T/M: There’s some language. That’s about it.

Summary: As the holidays approach, it’s time to start seriously thinking about how you’ll spend them - and who you’ll spend them with.

After breaking the ice with your coworker Din, the future becomes a little clearer ... and you begin to see some of the possibilities.

Author’s notes:

It’s here! This is the first part of my 2022 Hallmark Christmas celebration. You voted and you chose this story as the winner - so I hope you all enjoy it.

I’m planning on releasing this in real time for each part to coincide with the dates of the events that take place in the story... but don’t hold me to that because as we all know, the holidays can and do - usually get a little hectic.

We’re playing a little fast and loose with some canon Mando elements - and I’m picturing Din as a little younger than he is in the show; early-mid 30′s. Reader will have no specified characteristics or age, aside from the fact that she is over 21 (legally allowed to drink in the US), celebrates Christmas, and she does/will have hair that is of a length that can be covered (you’ll see).

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open! I tried to keep this brief, and yet again... was unable to. You should all know the drill by now.

Thank you to everyone that’s showed interest in this so far.

Translations at the end!

Masterlist

The more you put it off, the clearer it became that you were going to have to swallow your anxiety and just do it.

And it shouldn’t have been difficult - not really.

He was a nice guy; the conversations that you’d had at work were always positive ones, even if they were short. You’d never seen him get upset, even when someone made an unreasonable demand of him. He’d even gone out of his way to help around the office, taking on tasks before anyone could ask him to do so, or spending extra time to make sure the older people working there knew how to use everything properly to do their jobs.

He is a nice guy, and if you didn’t ask, you knew that someone else would.

And it wasn’t just the people you worked with that you had to worry about getting ahead of - it was everyone single in your age group, too.

So on the Monday before Thanksgiving, you found yourself texting your best friend and asking her to wish you luck before taking off down the hallway and toward his office, fingers nervously trailing along the wall in your wake.

Everyone seemed to be busy as you passed, and you were thankful that no one stopped you or poked their heads out of their office doors and attempted to speak to you. One delay and I’m going to lose my nerve. I know it. By the time you reached his partially closed door, your nerves were much calmer, one hand rising so that you could rap your knuckles against the frame with no hesitation.

Or, only a little hesitation, if you were being honest.

“C’mon in.” He spoke before you’d finished knocking, and you did exactly that, pushing the door open and then sticking your head inside of the room, a smile unavoidable at the sight of him.

“Hey, Din.” Leaving the door open behind you, you stepped through the small space and dropped into the chair across from him at the desk, crossing your legs at the knee. “How’s it going?”

“Busy today, actually.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair and then gesturing to his computer. “I’ve closed a few work orders, and had to go and help Sandra log back into her computer. She forgot her password again, and couldn’t do anything.” Bet she didn’t really forget it.

As you listened to him speak, you let yourself stare at him, trying to decide what the best course of action was. Just ask. That’s what you’re here to do. “Didn’t you help her last week, too?” Wrinkling your nose, you rolled your eyes. “I know it’s not a good idea because of safety and all that, but you’d think these people would use simpler passwords, right? Things they can remember?”

“If they did that, I’d be out of a job.” Leaning back in his chair, Din smiled at you, a dimple appearing on one cheek, visible through his sparse beard. “It’s fine. It’s what I’m here for, and it makes the day go by faster.”

“If you say so.” Both of you went silent, and after about ten seconds, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I didn’t come here for computer help, Din. I actually… I have a favor to ask you.”

“Yeah?” Din sat up straight, leaning closer and then pushing the sleeves of his shirt up toward his elbows before resting his forearms on the desk, the keyboard between them. “What’s up?” His casual response put you even more at ease, and as you opened your mouth to clue him in, you realized that you weren’t anxious anymore - whatever was going to happen was going to happen. He’d either agree or he’d say no, but you’d never know the outcome unless you took the leap.

“So, you weren’t here last Christmas, but I’m sure you’ve seen the fliers for the events that happen over the next month.” Din nodded, his gaze still focused on you. “Christmas is a pretty big deal here, and -”

“With a town name like Mistletoe, I’m not surprised.” He raised a brow. “But go on. I’m sorry I interrupted.”

“Well, if you’ve seen the fliers, then you know that the events are all part of a larger contest, right?” He nodded again, the warmth in his eyes there but subdued, Din waiting to see exactly what you had to say. “I sign up every year, always have, and I did this year, too.” He nodded again, his smile still present but somehow smaller, staying quiet. “It’s… long story short, I signed up with James as soon as the site went live, and …”

“And now you’re not together anymore.” Din leaned even closer, saying your name. “I’m sorry about that.” You were surprised by the sincerity in his voice; you hadn’t even known that he was aware that you’d broken up with your long term boyfriend. But apparently, Din knew more than he let on. Just because he’s quiet doesn’t mean that he doesn’t see. “But that doesn’t … I can’t do anything about that, and if you wanted to remove your name from the list, I’m sure all you’d have to do is tell whoever’s in charge. I’m good with computers, that doesn’t mean I can hack into -”

“No, Din!” The laugh that spiled from your lips was one of the most genuine that you’d produced since your breakup a few weeks earlier, your accompanying eye roll only slightly exaggerated. “I’m not sorry about it. It was a long time coming. We wanted different things. He was ready to leave here and uproot his life and I just… wasn’t.” Not for him, anyway. “It’s better like this, but.” You held up a finger. “I don’t want to take myself off of the list, and I don’t want you to take me off, either. I … I was actually wondering…”

The nerves were creeping back in, especially with the way that Din was still watching you, the expression on his face much more interested than it had been only minutes earlier. Just ask. All he can say is no.

“I wanted to ask you if you wanted to pair up, Din. With me.” Wetting your lips, you paused and gave him a few seconds to let the words sink in. “It’s actually a lot of fun every year, and if you’re involved with it, it’s a great way to really experience a Mistletoe Christmas.”

“Aren’t there like five events? Doesn’t that take up a lot of time?” Cocking his head to the side, Din blinked slowly, a slight frown deepening the lines on his forehead. “We haven’t really spent much time together, so I’m not sure that I’d be a good partner. I don’t know you or this town well, so …”

“It’s one event a week leading up to the 23rd.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, sliding it across the desk at him. “Starts with trivia, and then there’s a baking thing and a snowman competition.” He reached for the paper, his fingertips briefly making contact with yours as he picked it up, unfolding it. “But the biggest thing is the scavenger hunt that’s the morning of the 23rd. That’s my favorite part, even though it’s the most difficult.”

You watched as his eyes scanned the sheet, his mouth lifting into a small smile at your words. “One a week?”

“One a week. A couple hours at a time.” Leaning back, you reached up to scratch at your chin, wetting your lips. “There’s other stuff to do on the days that there aren’t events, but it’s not … they aren’t mandatory. And no, we haven’t really spent much time together, but I think it could be fun, and we could get to know each other a little better.” You paused, thinking. “I never really see you out anywhere, Din. And you’ve met a couple of us for drinks after work once or twice, but …” You shrugged. “I know you don’t have family here, so I thought it would be a good way to…”

But as you spoke, you realized that you’d never even considered the possibility that Din would leave for the holidays - using his vacation time to travel back to wherever it was that he was from originally. Shit. I didn’t … that could be a problem. “You alright?” He set the paper down, his hand lifting to run his fingers through his hair again. “You got quiet.”

“It just occurred to me that I have no idea if you’re planning on being here for Christmas, and if you aren’t, then my plan isn’t going to work.”

“I’m staying here.” His tone hardened slightly for the first time, but it passed quickly, Din shaking his head back and forth. “I’ll be in Mistletoe for Christmas. Is there anyone else you can ask, though? I wouldn’t want to ruin your chances of winning.”

“There are a couple people I could ask. But if you say no, I’m not going to.” The look of confusion on his face made you laugh, and so you uncrossed your legs and then leaned all the way forward, pressing your palms on the top of his desk. “I’m pretty competitive, Din. And none of my friends really are. I take this seriously, and I think you would, too. I thought we’d make a good team.”

“Yes.” He was grinning again, excitement back in his eyes. “I will.” You will? You’ll take it seriously, or you’ll be my partner? “When is …” He looked down, consulting the list. “When is trivia?”

“Saturday.” You grinned back, rising to your feet. “And then the baking thing is the following weekend.” He took a deep breath, exhaling as he brought his gaze up to meet yours again. “Let me give you my number and that way we can coordinate for the -”

“I have a better idea.” He stood, too, pulling his phone out of his pocket and thumbing it unlocked. “Give me your number, and I’ll give you my address. You can stop over after work sometime in the next couple days and we can strategize.” What? The look on your face must have alarmed him because Din’s lips parted, his fingers tightening around his phone. “Or we can just talk at lunch or on break, that’s just as easy.

“I’m surprised that you’re inviting me to your house.” Pointing at his phone, you took a breath. “I figured you’d want to meet at a bar or restaurant or something.”

“I leave my dog alone all day while I’m here, so I like spending time at home at night when I can.” He grinned, the expression somewhat embarrassed. “I know it’s stupid, but I feel bad that he’s by himself for so long.” He handed you his phone and you typed in the number before replying, sending yourself a message that simply said “Din” in the text field, and then gave it back to him.

“No, I get it. And yeah, that’s fine. I’m free tonight and then tomorrow, so let me know what works best for you, alright?” Din nodded again, setting the phone down on his desk. “I really appreciate this, Din.”

“Don’t mention it.” He opened his mouth to continue, but was interrupted by a loud beep from his computer, eyes immediately going to the screen. “I should look into that. That’s the noise it makes when there’s an emergency.”

Telling him goodbye, you spun and headed out of his office, pulling the door partway shut behind you. That could have gone worse. The walk back to your desk felt shorter than the one to his office had, and by the time you’d settled back down, picking up your phone to save his contact information, you were smiling outright. Much worse.

The rest of the day was uneventful, and you worked methodically to clear out your inbox and get things done leading up to the long holiday weekend, the conversation with Din fading to the back of your mind as time passed.

But when your phone vibrated later that afternoon and you picked it up, everything came back - including your wide smile - at the words on the screen.

Here’s my address. How’s 6:30 tonight sound? I can order pizza.

You only hesitated for a few seconds before typing back a reply, trying not to let yourself get overexcited.

That works for me. I’ll see you then.

—

“Stace, there’s nothing else to it. We’re going to be teammates for a couple weeks.” You were pacing in your living room, phone held to your ear. “Yes, he agreed right away, but it’s probably just because he felt bad for me. He knew that James and I broke up, so it was probably just pity.”

“Nah. He doesn’t seem the type to do pity.” The woman’s laugh was loud in your ear, but her tone was serious. “And even if it’s just because he wants to experience a Mistletoe Christmas, that’s still a good thing, right? It’s going to be fun.”

“I hope so.” You sighed, checking the time. “I’m going over to his place tonight so that we can talk about the events, and -”

“You’re going over there?” She screeched the words, her surprise evident. “Oh, that’s really good. Just the two of you means that …” She kept talking and you sat down on the back of the couch, bringing your free hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Stacy. Yes, I’m going over there. He said he would have asked me to meet him somewhere else, but he doesn’t like leaving his dog alone all day and night. So it won’t be just us, the dog’s going to be there too.” She called you an idiot but you ignored it, continuing. “And even though it was the best thing for both of us, I did just break up with a long term boyfriend a couple weeks ago. I’m not looking for anything right now.

“Even with someone that looks like Din?” She’d seen him in person when she’d met you for lunch a few times, Din lifting his hand in a quick wave as the two of you passed him on your way out the door. Even with someone like Din. “You have to admit, he’s… nice to look at.”

“He is. But that doesn’t matter. We’re going to do some Christmas themed activities together, and that’s it. Maybe we’ll become friends, but I’m not counting on it.”

“We’ll see.” You stood again and moved into your kitchen, head tilted to the side to hold your phone in place as you pulled your jacket on. “Just give it a chance. You never know - you might be perfect for each other.”

“Or,” you countered while grabbing your purse and keys. “Or we might be really incompatible, this is going to be a mess, and five weeks of us spending time together will end really badly.” She laughed again, telling you were wrong. “Maybe. But I’ve already asked him, so now all I can do is see what happens.”

You hung up the phone after telling her goodbye and that you’d let her know how things went, scrubbing one hand over your lower face. Is she right? Am I right? Only a few minutes later, Din’s address was typed into your phone and you were on your way to a house not even ten minutes from yours, music playing softly on your car radio as you drove.

There were a few houses that already had their Christmas lights on and decorations up, but you knew that the number of them would only increase the following week, starting with the tree lighting ceremony on the day after Thanksgiving. You wondered if Din would go to that and decided to ask him while you were at his house that night. Might as well.

You felt no apprehension as you got closer to his place, and even when you parked in the driveway and turned the car off, that was still true.

But as you headed up the steps to the porch - he’d turned the light on for you - you felt a small twinge of nerves. And when you pressed the button for the doorbell and were answered with a series of barks from the opposite side, you sucked in a breath, heart rate increasing. I could leave. I could just go.

You saw the dog before you saw Din, its face poking around the edge of the curtains in the front window, and were so focused on it that you didn’t notice the door opening inward, Din standing in a rectangle of light that spilled out from the hallway and onto the porch. “Hey, sorry about him. He likes to bark, but he’s all talk, I promise.” He paused and your attention shifted from the animal to Din, who took a step back and gestured with one hand. “Come in.”

You followed him inside and shut the door behind you, and there was another quiet yip as the dog ran from the other room and into the hallway, Din bending slightly at the waist to grab for his collar. “Oh, it’s fine, he’s…” Unzipping your coat, you crouched down and then looked up, nodding. “You can let him go.”

Din did, speaking two words - Cuyir jate - and taking a cautious step closer to you as the dog closed the final distance, head held high and his nose working overtime as he sniffed at you. Look at how cute this damn dog is. “His name’s Grogu. Had him since I got here. I actually… found him.” You reached out, letting Grogu sniff your hand, and when he’d made the decision that you weren’t going to harm him and started to lick at your wrist, you let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Or maybe he found me. They tell me he’s a mix of a couple things, but that he’s mostly Shiba Inu and some sort of Shepherd.”

“He’s definitely cute.” Biting your lip as you glanced up, you nodded. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave him longer than you need to.” Scratching the dog behind the ears for a few seconds with one hand, you began to stroke over his fur with the other, Grogu plopping down into a seated position and whining quietly. “I love his ears.”

“Everyone does.” Din cleared his throat. “Figured we could order food and then you could tell me more about this contest while we wait and eat. I like it kinda cold in here, so I built a fire in the living room, but …” Standing, you gave the dog one more pat on the head and then moved closer to him, wiping your hand on your jeans. “If you wanted to stick to the kitchen, we can do that too.”

“Sitting by a fire sounds great, Din.” He led you into the other room and you followed, glancing around to get a look at the inside of his house. It was clean and organized, though it was smaller than yours, and as you walked, you noticed that there were very few personal touches scattered throughout. Maybe he’s a minimalist.

Grogu pushed past you as you stepped down into the recessed living room, the dog immediately jumping up onto an armchair next to the fireplace and curling up. He settled his nose into his bushy tail, bright eyes watching intently as you lowered yourself onto the couch across from him. You kept your eyes on Din as you did so, wastching as he stepped toward the fireplace and bending over to add another log before pulling the grate shut.

It was impossible to ignore the way the material of his shirt pulled over his shoulders - the waffle-knit texture of the dark Henley he wore tight over his back and arms - and so you didn’t. You let yourself look, leaning back against the soft cushions, and barely managed to avert your eyes when he turned to face you, pointing at the open laptop on the table. “I have the menu open for the pizza place I like. Pick what you want and add it to the order.”

As he settled down on the couch next to you - leaving plenty of space between your bodies, you leaned closer to the computer, fingers moving over the trackpad. I know this place. It’s one of my favorites.

It didn’t take you long to add your meal to the order, and when you gestured for him to finish, you reached for your purse, pulling your phone out. “What do I owe you? I can send it through Venmo, or if you want cash, I can give it to you at work tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He clicked the “place order” button and then turned to look at you, lower lip pushed out in a small frown. “I invited you over here, so I’ll pay.” Thanking him quickly, Din ducked his head, turning his attention back to the screen. “Says it’ll be about 30 minutes. That’s plenty of time for you to fill me in, right?”

It was, but rather than just telling him, you decided to show him what he’d invited you over to talk about. “There’s actually a website, if you want to look through it. It’s got pictures and videos from previous years, and it’s how they keep track of teams and points, too.” He pushed the device closer to you again, and you typed in the address, opening up the page. “I’ll actually need you to add in your information, too, just in case we win anything. They need to have a record of who the prizes go to, so -”

“Wait, there’s prizes?” He was tapping lightly on the trackpad, scrolling through the main page. “This isn’t just friendly competition?”

“Well, yes and no.” Bending one arm, you rested your elbow on your knee and settled your chin in your hand as you eyed the website. “It’s pretty friendly all the way through. People are competitive, but they’re not ruthless, y’know? It helps to get us all in the Christmas spirit, but they like to reward the people that win, too.”

“What kind of prizes?” He clicked a video and kept his eyes on it as it played, the volume loud enough that you could hear it, but not too loud to keep you from talking. “Cookies and Christmas sweaters? Gift certificates? What are the stakes here?”

“God, no. We all get enough cookies and candy canes and all that bullshit from everywhere else. The Christmas sweaters … I can’t tell you no, because that might be part of it, but it’s more than that.” Pointing with one finger, you cleared your throat. “It sort of depends on who wins, too. There are some generic participation prizes, but for the teams that come in first, second and third, they personalize it a little.”

“Yeah?” A second video was playing, Din watching as people competed in a 3-legged race. “Have you ever won?”

“I’ve won individual events before. But I’ve only won a bigger prize once. It was the first year James and I were together, and we came in third overall. We got an overnight stay at a bed and breakfast about an hour away as our prize.” You swallowed hard at the memory, looking down at your lap. “I think that was still during the honeymoon phase of our relationship, you know? He was trying to impress me. After that year it always seemed like he was just going through the motions.”

Din was quiet for long moments and when you finally looked up, you sucked in a breath at the sight of a photo of you and James on the screen, both of you in winter hats and scarves. I forgot that was on there.

He quickly clicked to a different page and while it loaded, Din shifted on the couch next to you, obviously a little uncomfortable. “So it’s not just a couples thing? I know you said there were other people you could ask, but I figured it was just so you didn’t have to back out.”

“It’s not. I entered with my best friend a couple times. My college roommate was my partner once when she came back here for the winter break. As long as it’s a team of two and both people fall into the same age bracket, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, it looks like there’s a separate contest for kids?”

“There is.” You leaned over, clicking on a different tab. “But that one’s just mostly fun. Races and making decorations, volunteering for the older kids. You have to be over 18 to sign up for the one we’re in, but there’s still plenty of stuff to do even if it doesn’t earn you points toward the competition. “You’ll see. It sounds a lot more complicated than it really is. All you have to do is show up for the main events and play, and you’ll be fine.”

“I can’t promise you that we’ll win.” He rubbed a large palm over one knee, sighing as he said your name. “Where I’m from, we didn’t have a lot of these traditions. My holidays were a lot of … structure. I’ve really only gotten to experience American Christmas a few times, and I’m still getting the hang of it.” The hang of it? It’s just … celebrations.

“That’s alright, Din.” Clasping your hands together in your lap, you shrugged your shoulders. “As long as you’re having fun, that’s what matters.”

“But you just said that you and James didn’t win because he wasn’t trying to.” He rubbed at his knee again, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to think …”

“There’s a difference between not trying and giving it a legitimate effort and losing, Din. As long as you aren’t just showing up and sitting there on your phone instead of decorating cookies, or complaining about having to trudge through the snow and getting your pants wet while we’re building snowmen, it’s fine.”

“I don’t mind the cold.” He let out a long sigh, the concern fading from his expression. “And Grogu and I really like the snow. He didn’t get to see much of it last winter, because we got here toward the end, but we took a trip over the summer, and he really liked it then.”

“Ah, so that’s where you went when you were gone for a week. Europe. There’s snow over there in some places in the summer, right?” You grinned at him, tilting your head. “You left so fast that some of us wondered if you were even coming back, and the little old ladies in the cafeteria were distraught at the thought they wouldn’t ever see you again.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting over to Grogu and then back to you. “Europe. It was a last minute thing, so I only had time to clear it with the boss.” His reaction was a little strange, but you figured that it was just the result of Din accidentally revealing too much to you after such a short time, and so you ignored it. He’ll tell me what he wants to tell me when he wants to tell me. “And I’m sure the cafeteria ladies were only distraught because I wasn’t around to help ‘em log into their email and update their order forms.” Doubtful. You snorted at that and were rewarded with another of Din’s bright smiles, the discomfort from a few minutes earlier all but gone. “The food should be here soon. Let me put Grogu outside so that he’s not trying to climb into your lap while you eat, alright?”

Nodding at the suggestion, you settled back as Din stood and whistled, calling out the dog’s name. Grogu’s head popped up in interest, and when Din headed for the back door, fingers closing sound the handle, he bolted toward his owner, tongue hanging out. “He’s adorable, Din.” You spoke as the door shut behind the dog, Din flipping the light switch on and keeping his eyes on the glass for a few seconds. “You found him?”

“Yeah. It was about two weeks after I got here, I was driving down the highway and stopped at a rest area.” He motioned for you to follow him up and into the kitchen, opening cupboards and then pulling out plates and napkins. “He was in a box next to one of the dumpsters, and I heard him whining when I walked by.” Din pulled his phone out again and scrolled for a few seconds, tapping once on the screen before he turned it toward you. “There was no way I was getting back in my car without him.”

You gasped at the picture he was showing you; Grogu but tiny, the longer fur near his ears matted and wet, his body tucked into a tight circle on a piece of filthy cardboard. “Of course you couldn’t.” Covering your mouth, you blinked back tears at the sight. “He was so little.”

“And all alone. I think there were others in the box with him at one point, but by the time I got there, he was by himself. Wrapped him in a blanket and put him in the car with me.” Din swiped to the left and the next picture you saw was of the puppy on the front passenger seat, wrapped in a tan, fur-lined blanket with only his head poking out. “Took him to a vet as soon as they opened the next morning, and they scanned him for a chip. Nothing came up. I said I’d keep him until someone claimed him or I could find him a home, and now…” Din trailed off, shrugging. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“They always know when they’re rescued.” Movement out of the corner of your eye caused you to turn your head toward the window, the sight of Grogu running across the snow-covered grass making you smile. “I bet he’s a terror sometimes, though.”

“Oh, definitely.” Din’s laugh was loud and genuine, and when he pushed away from the counter, tucking his phone back into his pocket, you followed, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “He’s a little shit but I love him anyway.” Before he could sit down across from you, the sound of the doorbell filled the house, Grogu’s response barks audible through the glass. “One second.”

He grinned as he walked away and you followed his motion with your eyes, gaze locked on the way his arms swayed as he walked, fingers curled into loose fists by his sides. Din was nice to look at - you’d thought so from the minute he’d been hired. His shy nature during his introduction to the company had made him something of a mystery, many of the employees - especially the women - going out of their way to attempt to get to know him. But I don’t know if any of them actually have.

He answered the door, greeting the delivery driver, and as he made conversation during the handoff, you kept watching him, chewing on the inside of your cheek. I shouldn’t stare, especially since we’re going to be hanging out so much. But you couldn’t help it, keeping your eyes on him even when he’d turned to face you again, boxes in his hands and using one foot to push the door shut behind him. “Need help?”

He assured you that he didn’t, and a few minutes later, the two of you were happily eating dinner, both boxes open on the table between you. “So tell me more about this competition. I know we looked at the site earlier, but …” He swallowed a bite of pizza, setting the slice down and wiping his fingers on a napkin. “How do they score the events? Is it easy to win?”

“Everything’s weighted differently.” Swallowing a mouthful of your own, you lifted your cup to your lips, taking a long drink of Coke. “For example, the teams that win trivia will win with that number of points, but they only carry over a specific amount to the second event.” He nodded, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “There are judges for the snowman contest, and winners are ranked, and it’s the same thing; a certain number of points.”

“Do they count the number of cookies you decorate?” He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Because I can tell you right now, I’m not going to be fast at that.”

“They do. But it’s not just the number with frosting, it’s the number that are complete. We don’t have to bake them, just decorate them. Every year, someone drops a full plate, or comes up with some lame method that they think is going to get them an advantage, but it never works.”

“What about eating them?” He raised a brow, swiping at his lower lip with one thumb and then sucking it clean, a breath catching in your throat at the sight. That’s definitely… something to see. “What happens if I eat the ones we frost?”

“I’ll be mad.” You wadded up your napkin and tossed it at him. “A couple is one thing, but there’s plenty of time to eat cookies after, Din. I promise, there’s hundreds of them that get made that night. You’ll have too many to choose from.”

“Fine.” He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Scavenger hunt? That seems like it’ll be the most competitive.”

“It always is. And it’s the best place to make up points, too.” Finishing your pizza, you pushed your plate away. “There’s the typical clues, and we have to figure them out and then go to each place and take pictures to prove that we solved everything. But there’s also a list of extra point opportunities.”

“Extra points?” He finished too, sitting straight up and then leaning back, his arms behind his head as he stretched. “What does that mean?” It took you a second to answer - the flex of his upper arms through the material of his shirt distracting you big time.

“There… there’s a time limit. If you get all five or six of the main clues, you earn a certain number of points, but if you take pictures with the other stuff on the list, you earn extra points.” His eyes widened. “The trick is that some of the stuff on the list is worth more extra points, and it’s all completely random. The people that are in charge are the only one that know until the end of the competition. They upload the list with the point values after everyone’s submitted.”

“So you really have to strategize.” He stood, beginning to clear the table. “Decide if you want to try for the extra points and put the actual clues aside, or -”

“Or play the game and pick a few of the extras and hope for the best.” As you moved through the kitchen with him, you were struck with how fluid it seemed - Din putting the dishes into the sink and rinsing them while you threw away the trash and combined the pizza into one box before sticking it in the fridge.

“Exactly.” Pausing with one hand on the countertop, you eyed him. “That’s why it’s last. Gives people a chance to decide how they’re going to play it.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun.” He had one hand on his hip, fingers spread out, the tips of two of them dipping into the front pocket of his jeans. “I’m glad you asked me to be your partner.”

“Are you?” He nodded and you felt heat rising in your cheeks, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. You then turned away quickly so that he couldn’t see the change in your expression. Shit. “I’m going to let Grogu in. He’s gotta be cold.” Din told you that that was fine but didn’t say anything else, and you took the opportunity to walk back downstairs, heading straight for the door. How do I respond to that?

You pulled the door open and Grogu dashed in, crowding up against your legs as you shut and locked the glass and then stepped back, laughing. Dropping to your knees again, you reached for him, the dog excitedly jumping closer and nudging at your chest and arms with his nose - which was much colder than it had been earlier.

Leaning forward, you used both hands to pet him, running your nails along his back and sides, his curly tail wagging back and forth at your touch. “He likes you.”

Din followed you downstairs, his arms crossed over his chest. Letting his words sink in, you smiled at the dog, scratching the space just behind his ears. “Yeah? Is he not usually this friendly?” Din sat down on the couch again and you heard a low whistle followed by another single word - K’olar. Grogu immediately went still at the sound and then headed for Din, bypassing you without another look. He jumped onto the couch and then settled down with his snout on Din’s thigh, his hand immediately moving to his shoulders. Ok, that’s impressive. “Din?”

“It usually takes him a little while to warm up, but I guess not with you.” He looked down at the dog and then back at you. “I don’t have people over much, so this is new for him.”

It seemed like an invitation and so you took it, sitting down on the couch again - Grogu between the two of you that time. “So you keep to yourself at work and after. You don’t have many people over. I’ve never heard any of the women in the office talking about going out with you for dinner or to a movie or for a drink, even though they all talk about asking. So why’d you agree to do this with me, Din?”

You weren’t trying to pry, but you still wanted to know, hoping that at the very least, he would tell you something that would help explain his decision. I shouldn’t question it, because I’m happy it’s happening. “I wanted to.” He said your name and turned his head, waiting until you were looking at him to say anything else. “You’re friendly with everyone. You make my job easy because you never really need anything from me. And…” He scratched Grogu between the ears again, taking a deep breath. “And you’ve seemed sad for the last couple weeks, so I wanted to see if I could cheer you up.”

“Din, I -” It wasn’t an admission of anything - not really - but it made you happy all the same, and you didn’t quite know how to respond. “Thank you.” You ran your fingers through Grogu’s fur, careful not to get in the path of Din’s hand. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Sure.” He was playing with the dog’s ears, the brown and black fur sticking out from between his fingers before he flattened them against the sides of his head. “Go on.”

“Was I the only person that asked you to partner up for the competition?”

“No.” He laughed and your head snapped in his direction. I’m not? “A couple of the girls from the sales team asked.” He met your eyes. “And so did Omera, the one from accounting?”

“And you said no?” Din nodded, his expression solemn. “Then why -”

“Because, I like I said…” He reached over, laying his hand on your arm and squeezing. “I want to cheer you up.” He cleared his throat. “And to be honest… you’re really good at your job, and you look like you know your way around these events, so clearly we have the best chance to win together.”

That made you laugh, too, your attention shifting to the warmth of his palm on your arm, the heat present even though the sleeve of your shirt. “I definitely do.” Lowering your head, you focused on his hand, Din squeezing once more before he pulled it back and resumed stroking over Grogu’s head. “Well thank you, Din. I appreciate it, and I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“You won’t.” The room went quiet then, and even though there was plenty that you wanted to say, you chose not to, instead flexing your fingers and then leaning back in and reaching for the laptop.

“I’m going to log on now so that you can put in your information. If you enter in your email, they’ll send you instructions and updates about the events.” Once logged in, you navigated to the correct page and sat back. “All yours, Din.”

He typed quickly, entering in his name and address, along with his phone number and email. “Says I need a picture? I don’t have one on here, but -”

“It doesn’t have to be a professional picture. We can take one with your phone, or upload one using the laptop’s camera. It really doesn’t matter. They just want to be sure that no one’s trying to sub in someone for an event.”

He didn’t speak, but you watched as Din pressed a few keys and opened the laptop’s camera, ducking down so that his face was visible on the screen. He ran his fingers through his hair again but instead of taming the locks, he ruffled them even more, the man muttering something under his breath that made Grogu raise his head. Did he just call him lamb?

He snapped a picture moments later, and then with a few more taps, he spun the laptop to face you. “How’s that?” There was a picture of him and Grogu next to yours, and if you hadn’t been able to catch yourself, you would have said something embarrassing. Like telling him that that’s the best laptop selfie I’ve ever seen. “Figured even if people didn’t know who I was, they might recognize him.”

“It’s a good picture.” With a final pat, you pulled your hand away from Grogu and linked your fingers together. “Hopefully they don’t think that he’s my partner.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about decorating cookies then because he’d eat every single one of them.” Din’s hands went back to Grogu’s face, cradling it between his palms. “Isn’t that right, you little womp rat?”

You couldn’t help smiling at the sight, but when your eyes moved up and you saw the clock over Din’s shoulder, you winced. “It’s getting late, Din. And we’ve gotta work tomorrow, so I should probably go. I don’t want to keep you up.” You didn’t want to leave but figured it was polite to do so, and when you stood, Din did, too. “You don’t have to -”

“I’ll walk you out. I have to lock the door anyway.” He held one hand out and spoke to Grogu again, his head angled down. “Gev, Grogu.” The dog relaxed almost immediately, putting his head back down on his paws and looking up at you, brown eyes wide and somewhat sad. “Oh, don’t look at her like that.” Din rolled his eyes when he caught yours. “He acts like I’m the worst when I’m just telling him to stay put.”

“He just wants to be around you, Din.” And I can’t blame him, especially after finding out he was rescued. You led the way back to his front door, reaching for the coat that you’d draped over the banister, along with your bag. “Thanks for dinner.” As you zipped the jacket, you met his eyes again, giving him a small smile. “If you have any other questions, that site can probably answer a lot of them, but you can always ask me at work, too. It’s pretty straightforward.”

“I figured.” He was leaning against the railing, arms once again crossed over his broad chest, the bottom of one socked foot pressed to the wall’s surface just above the baseboard. “And you’re welcome. It… I’m glad you stopped over tonight.” You are? Fighting back a smile as you zipped your boot, you turned your attention toward the door, reaching for the handle. “I’ll finish filling out that information when you leave, and see you at work tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there.” Sighing as the cool air rushed in when you pulled the door open, you looked back at Din over one shoulder, nodding. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” He followed you out onto the porch as you made your way down the stairs, Din still standing there by the time you’d buckled yourself in and started the vehicle. As you backed out, you noticed that Grogu had joined his owner, the dog sitting next to him, pressed close to one of his legs.

The radio still played softly as you drove, but you paid no attention to it, instead focused on the previous few hours - and what you’d learned about Din. Blowing out a breath as you sat at a stoplight, you stopped trying to hide your smile and let it free, grinning as you eased your foot off the brake.

It was going to be a long five weeks - but you couldn’t wait to see how they went.

—

Cuyir jate: be good

K'olar : come here

Laam: up

Gev: stop (stay)

- - -

Tag list coming separately!

#din djarin x reader #din x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian au #pedro pascal character #din djarin modern au #IT guy din #star wars fic #hallmark christmas 2022 #competing for christmas #christmas story 2022 #grogu #din and grogu #but in a new way #choose your holiday 2022 adventure #christmas fluff #this one's going to have ALL the tropes

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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

Text

Competing For Christmas 3: Jingle Bell Rock

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 12,097

Rating: M. Language, consumption of alcohol, brief allusions to prior relationships.

Summary: With three events to play during trivia night, you and Din are going to find out whether or not you make a good team very quickly.

Author’s notes:

Listen, I am SO THRILLED you’re all enjoying this as much as I am. I’m having a blast writing this, and I really hope that even though this one’s a little longer, it doesn’t lose anyone in the middle. Christmas Din is fantastic ... and even though Grogu’s not in this chapter, please know he’s happily snoozing under the tree at home while Din goes to trivia night.

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open! You should all know the drill by now.

... Check out the masterlist page for three links to the events of the chapter - you don’t have to play along, but they’re fun interactive visual aids!

Masterlist / Part 1 / Part 2

You got to the bar fifteen minutes earlier than you’d told Din to be there - not because you wanted to be waiting for him, but because in an attempt to make sure you weren’t going to be late, you’d started getting ready much earlier than necessary.

It wasn’t a date, and the only place the two of you would be that night was inside of a building with the other teams and random stragglers that were just there to watch - but you’d still taken extra time on your appearance.

A nice pair of boots went well with a newer pair of jeans, and to combat the temperature - which had dropped significantly overnight, you were wearing a thick cable knit sweater in a dark slate gray. It’s just a winter outfit. It’s nothing special. With one final look in your rearview mirror, you closed your eyes and reached for the door handle, stepping out and onto the concrete of the parking lot.

There were other people walking in, but none of them paid any attention to you - until you heard your name called out in a deep, rumbling voice. “Hey, wait up!” Stopping in your tracks, you spun around and saw Din hurrying across the parking lot, and wearing the same coat from the previous night, though it was unzipped. And there’s no hat today.

As he approached, you stared at him, eyes wandering over his face and hair, the chestnut brown locks in a disarray that would have looked unkempt on anyone else. On Din, though, they looked fashionable, almost like he’d done it on purpose. Maybe he did. Maybe - “Sorry, I got here a little early…. Looks like you did, too.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know how busy the parking lot would be.” It rolled off of your tongue smoothly and you congratulated yourself on how nonchalant you sounded as he took his place next to you, the two of you heading for the doorway. “Guess I didn’t have to worry, but…”

“Well now we can order a drink before we start.” He pulled the door open and gestured with one hand for you to step in front of him, and even though it wasn’t necessary, Din placed his hand on your lower back as you passed, the pressure of his fingers light but still there.

You shivered and then swore under your breath at the contact, gritting your teeth. Get it together. “We can.” Heading for the main open space, where a few extra tables were set up, you pointed at a bulletin board hanging on the wall. “Our assigned table number is on there. Why don’t you find it, and I’ll go grab the first round?”

“I can do that.” He frowned briefly. “If you want -”

“No. This one’s on me.” Pointing at the bar, you grinned. “I’ll order us something to eat, too. Anything you don’t like?”

“I’m not picky. But…” He smiled at you, tilting his head to one side. “I love the wings here, if you wanted to share?”

“Got you. But I meant beer-wise.” He thought for a few seconds and then cleared his throat.

“No IPAs. I like dark beer, but if there’s something you think I should try, I’ll do it.” You didn’t think he was trying to impress you, instead it seemed like Din was legitimately giving you a chance to order him something that you thought he would enjoy. And I appreciate that.

“Alright. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He nodded once and turned away from you and toward the board, letting you head for the bar. Sliding in between two of the empty stools, you waved down the bartender - a young girl that you’d never seen before - and then leaned forward to answer her greeting. “Hey. I’m here for the trivia, is it possible to put in a food order here and have it brought to our table?’

“Of course.” She grinned, reaching for a tablet. “Open tab or closed, and do you need to see a menu?”

“Keep it open.” You paused, thinking. “And no. I’m ready to order.” She nodded and you tapped your fingers on the wooden bar top, nodding back. “Can I get an order of the buffalo wings with extra blue cheese and ranch, and then an order of the loaded baked potato dip?” The girl typed quickly, her eyes moving over the screen, and when she looked back up at you, you continued, making a split second decision about the beer you wanted Din to try. “And then two tall Christmas stouts, please.”

“Sugar rims?” She cocked an eyebrow at you and your affirmative reply was almost immediate. “Ok, let me have your card so I can run it.” You handed it over and then glanced around the bar, trying to see if you could find Din. It didn’t take you long - your eyes landed on him, seated and without his coat, balancing his chin on one hand as he scrolled through his phone. “OK, great. Give me a minute to get your drinks, and -”

“We’re at table …” You squinted. “Eight.” The girl thanked you, adding that to the tablet. She set the device down and then turned away from you, busy with grabbing glasses. It gave you a few seconds to take a deep breath and attempt to relax, but the reprieve was short-lived when you heard someone else say your name. What are you doing here? “Hi, James.”

Turning your head toward the sound, you forced a small smile, the man sitting three seats away with one other person between you. “Didn’t know if you’d found someone else to partner up with, so I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”

“I am.” Trying not to scoff - or roll your eyes - you stared at him. “I’ve done this competition every single year since I turned 18, James. I’m not going to change that this year just because I had to switch partners last minute.”

He stared at you, eyes moving over your face, and for a brief moment, you wondered if you were being too short with him - too rude - and then you remembered the way he’d just assumed that you’d be the one to leave your life behind at the drop of a hat when and if he landed his dream job. No, I’m giving him exactly what he deserves.

“You know, I’ve wanted to call you.” He leaned forward, frowning. “I thought maybe we could talk about what happened. It’s been a few weeks, so -”

He was interrupted when the bartender brought your drinks back, the woman sliding them across the surface toward you. “Here ya go. Your food order’s in, shouldn’t be too long. You’ll have it before the first round of trivia starts.” Thank you.

“That sounds great.” Nodding as you wrapped your fingers around the cool glass, you lifted both beers from the counter and then returned your attention to James, deciding to keep things civil. “I’m going to head to my table now.” Swallowing hard, you nodded once. “Have a good night.”

“It was good to see you.” James blinked, shifting in his seat. “So can we -”

“Goodbye, James.” Cutting him off, you headed back toward your table heart pounding as you moved away from the bar and toward Din. He didn’t stand when you approached, but he did move two coasters from the short stack at the center of the table, setting one down in front of the seat across from his. “So I got you a Christmas stout, Din.” Setting both of them down, took your seat. “They’re really good, and -”

“Hey.” It was only one word, but you heard authority in it, though it wasn’t the kind you were used to. Instead of using it to command your attention, Din’s tone simply reminded you that he was there and aware - and there was definitely a difference. “I saw you talking to your ex up there. You alright?”

You met his eyes again, lips parted slightly as you thought about making an excuse - and then decided not to. “I’m OK, Din. Thanks for asking. I just…” Sitting down, you shook your head. “I wasn’t expecting to see him, and … it was a shock.”

“He didn’t throw you off your game, right?” Din nudged you with the tow of one boot as he reached for his beer, pulling the glass and the coaster toward himself. “Because we’re about to spend the next couple hours deep in obscure Christmas trivia, and I need you. If we’re going to win, you’ve got to be good at this.”

He was trying to distract you and it worked, your mouth snapping shut as you pressed your lips together, picking up your drink, too. “No, I’ve got this, Djarin. A couple sips of this and some food, and it’ll be like he wasn’t even here.”

“Good.” He murmured the word, nodding. “I’m gonna taste this now.” And he did - lifting the rim of the glass to his lips and tilting it up. You watched as he swallowed a healthy gulp, pulling the glass away and then licking his lips to clear the remainder of the sugar crystals from them. It took a few seconds but then his eyes widened, Din taking another drink before he set the rest down, grinning at you. “That’s fucking great.”

With a relieved laugh, you finally tried yours, eyes closing at the familiar combination of cinnamon, sugar and toffee, the flavor just as crisp as you remembered from previous years. “It is, isn’t it?” You went quiet for a few seconds and then said Din’s name, waiting until he was looking back at you to continue. “Thank you. Really.”

“Don’t mention it.” He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, shrugging. “I just don’t want him to ruin your night.”

“He won’t.” With a wry smile, you linked your fingers together atop the table. “He doesn’t get to do that anymore.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Din didn’t say anything else, though, instead spending the next few seconds just watching you, his expression relaxed and the corners of his mouth curved up in a small smile. He looked warm and cozy in the confines of the bar - the inside of it already decorated in strands of multicolored Christmas lights and garlands, a large tree set up in the corner near where the service station for the outdoor seating area was usually positioned. And that makes me… feel better, too.

He’d dressed just as casually as you - another Henley, that one in a deep red that contrasted with the tanned skin of his forearms and upper chest - which is was visible due to the fact that he had three of the buttons undone. It was distracting, because he was distracting, but you could tell that he hadn’t done it to draw attention to himself. No, he’s just comfortable. “What are you looking at, Din?”

Frowning, you narrowed your eyes, his expression changing to one of shock. Why? It’s just a question. “You.” His answer was just as shocking, though, and at the single word, you sat straight up, knocking into the chairback with the movement. “You’re really done with him, hmm?”

“I am.” Averting your eyes in an attempt to keep it together, you picked your beer up again, distracting yourself with another drink. “We were together for three years, and even when he explained to me that he thought I needed to be ready to up and leave Mistletoe with him if and when he got his promotion, he couldn’t… wouldn’t say that he’d ever thought about marrying me.”

“So you don’t want to leave here?” He was frowning again, head tilted to one side. “You’re planning on staying here indefinitely?”

“No. It’s not the leaving that bothered me, and it’s not even that I need to be married, either. I guess I just didn’t want to risk uprooting everything for someone that wasn’t… that didn’t want to think about a future with me.” Setting your glass down, you relaxed again, shoulders slumping briefly. “I don’t care if it’s a couple hours away, I wouldn’t want to move somewhere, get dumped and then have to figure out everything on my own.”

“You could do it.” He tapped his fingertips on top of the table. “It wouldn’t be fun, but if anyone could handle something like that, it’d be you.”

“You don’t even know me, Din.” But the compliment from him made you smile, heat rushing to your cheeks even as you dismissed what he was saying. “All you know is that I sometimes lock myself out of the fingerprint reader at the office, and I get overwhelmed by emails and alerts, and -”

“I don’t know you yet.” Holding up one finger, Din raised an eyebrow. “But after this competition, I will.” There were a ton of things that you wanted to say - countless ways that you could have reacted to his words, but instead of saying anything, you were interrupted again by one of the competition organizers, the woman stopping next to your table with a sealed envelope and a few loose sheets of paper - one of them with a lot of text on it, along with a small basket that had pens and pencils along with bingo daubers in it. “Hi.”

Seamlessly, he turned his attention to the woman, his smile growing. “Hello to you two.” She held the items up, grinning. “I have these to deliver to you. The envelope contains the stuff for the different rounds tonight, and the extra paper’s got instructions on it, plus some empty sheets for notes.” Din took the envelope from her while you grabbed for the loose papers, eyes scanning the detailed instructions, though you quickly returned your attention to the woman. “Keep that sealed until we tell you to open it, and you’ll be good. Any questions?”

“No.” Smiling at her, you shook your head. “It’s pretty straightforward, right?”

“It is.” The woman backed away a few steps, still watching the two of you. “We’ll be starting in about fifteen minutes, so if you need to get a refill on your drinks, or use the bathroom, or -”

“That’s where I come in.” The bartender was behind her, that woman smiling, too. “Got an order of buffalo wings and some loaded potato dip?” The organizer stepped even further away, telling the two of you to have fun, and then the bartender set the food down, following it with small plates. “Did you want to order another beer? Get it in and make sure you’re set for the first round?”

“Sure.” Din nodded, his eyes moving from the plates to the woman, and though she was pretty, you were surprised to see that he looked at her with nothing more than friendly interest, his eyes not lingering in one place for too long. “Another one of these sounds good. How about you?”

“Yeah.” You agreed, figuring that you could have a second drink and then let yourself sober up for the rest of the night. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Alright, on the same tab?” The bartender looked to you, waiting.

“Yea-”

“No, close hers and put this on mine.” Din shifted and reached for his wallet, pulling out a credit card and handing it over. “Thank you.” She nodded and took the card, heading back for the bar. “You paid for food, it’s fine.”

“Thanks.” Taking a deep breath, you reached for your class and lifted it, holding it out and across the table toward him. “We should make a toast.” Thinking, you wrinkled your nose as you looked around the room. “To beating all of these other teams at trivia and getting a head start on winning this competition.”

“Alright, sounds good.” He nodded, fingers closing around his drink. “Can we also add a toast for you teaching me about the way you celebrate the holidays?” We can, but that’s not a traditional toast. “Or maybe to new friends? To a great Christmas?”

“All of the above.” Tilting your glass, you clinked the edge of it with his and grinned, raising it to your lips and taking a drink. To a new friend at Christmas. “Do you want to read these rules?”

“I do, but those wings look great so I’d like to start there.” Laughing, you set your beer down and reached for the smaller plates, handing him one. “You can have some if you want.” Thanking him, and telling him that the same was true for him and your dip, the two of you spent the next few minutes eating in silence, the noise around you growing louder and more and more people showed up and your replacement beers were delivered. “So do people come in and watch this event?”

He wiped at his face with a napkin, gesturing with that hand when he was done. “They do. And they can play along, too, but it’s not like normal trivia where they get to turn their answers in for points, because that would be too confusing.”

“So it only counts for us?” Nodding in agreement, you shifted in your chair to look around the bar and were surprised to catch James’ eye again, noticing that he was still sitting where he had been. He didn’t look away and you stiffened, hand pausing mid-reach for your mostly empty beer glass. Din caught the pause immediately, saying your name. “Do you want to switch seats? I have no problem with him staring at me all night if it means you’re more comfortable.”

“I…” You didn’t want to say yes, but part of you knew that if you didn’t, you would be distracted - and you didn’t want that to happen, either. “Sure, Din. Thank you.”

He stood while you were still speaking, moving to your side of the table and waiting, and when you stood, too, your purse in one hand, Din reached out and squeezed your elbow. “No problem.”

It didn’t take you long to get situated in his seat, and with some surprise, you realized that he’d left his jacket hanging over the back, which meant that as you settled, you could smell his cologne, the scent faint but present. “He’s going to stare at you all night.” You reached for another waffle fry, dipping it into the remaining mixture in the bowl between you. “Probably -”

“Let him.” Din bit into his last wing, shrugging. “I don’t care. I don’t know him, so it doesn’t bother me.” You felt a wave of gratitude for your new friend and told him as much, but Din waved you off, his smile in place. “Like I said, as long as you’re comfortable, I’m alright.”

You didn’t know if he was flirting or just being a decent person, but either way, you appreciated it, Din beginning to tell you a story about something that had happened at work. He only got halfway through it when the event organizer - Tina - began to speak into the microphone.

“Alright, we’re going to get started in about five minutes, so if you’re competing in the trivia contest tonight, make sure you get any last minute food or drink orders in and use the bathroom.”

There was a flurry of movement, but neither of you stood up, instead choosing to stay in your seats. I’ll go between rounds.

As the minutes ticked by, you felt your nerves getting more frayed - though it was just competition jitters and had nothing to do with Din sitting across from you. “She’s coming back to the microphone.” He sighed, stacking his fork and napkin atop the plate of wing bones. “And everyone’s sitting down, and -”

“Alright, everyone, we’re about to start.” Tina took the stage again and the room went quiet, everyone’s attention shifting to her. “I’m going to explain the rules to you, and then ask each team to open their envelope.” Din held yours up, grinning, and you didn’t try to stop your answering expression, teeth digging into your lower lip as you nodded. “Inside your envelope are three additional envelopes marked 1, 2 and 3, to correspond with each round.”

The woman continued explaining things, and even though you were familiar with the progression of the event, you listened closely. The night started out with general Christmas trivia, and Tina informed you that she would read each question out loud, and teams would have 30 seconds to write out answers before someone would have to deliver the slips of paper to the front table. “How will they know it’s ours?” Din frowned, glancing at you. “That’s a lot of -”

“The table number is on the back of the answer slips, usually.” Speaking quietly, you looked away from the front of the room. “But this way people can’t change their answers, and the points will be tallied by someone as the round goes on, not all at the end.”

The second round was Christmas Music Bingo, and there were individual bingo boards in the enveloped marked “2”. “We’ll play five rounds of that, and each round lasts until we get three bingos.” She scanned the room as she explained the rules. “The team that has the most combined bingo wins between them at the end wins that round.”

“I’m horrible with Christmas music,” Din muttered, rubbing at his forehead. “I -”

“Don’t worry.” You reached over, laying your hand atop the one that he had on the table. “I’m great at it.” And you were - you could identify most of the songs in only a few seconds, and were quick with the dauber. “It’s slower than regular bingo, too, because they play five seconds of each song, so you have plenty of time.”

He looked worried but didn’t say anything else, and as Tina continued on, explaining the third portion of the event - a general word scramble - he looked much more relaxed. “I’m good with puzzles.” Din wet his lips, his eyes locked on your face. “That’s a relief.”

I hope so.

“We’re going to get started so go ahead and open envelope number 1.” Tina spoke again, and you made a split second decision, saying Din’s name.

“Come sit next to me, that way we can share answers without having to yell across the table.” Your heart was pounding - not only because of excitement but in response to your suggestion. Keep it together, this is just .. it’s strategy, it -

“Good idea.” Din swiftly moved and dragged one of the chairs to the corner of the table so that he was sitting much closer, his knee brushing yours as he scooted in. “Now we can whisper, and no one will hear us.” Yeah. We can.

“Alright. Phones and tablets away, and please remember - if you’re just an observer, you cannot help the teams competing. If we see anyone attempting to cheat, you’ll be eliminated from the event and from the competition. Tina cleared her throat. “Just a few more seconds while everyone gets situated…” She trailed off and you and Din began arranging things in front of you - the stack of answer cards, the question sheet, the scratch paper and an extra pen - he methodically lined everything up before handing you the second pen.

“You take it. I’m sure your handwriting is better than mine, so you should write the answers down.”

“Alright.” Taking a deep breath, you closed your fingers around the pen. “Let’s look at the questions, and -”

“No.” He laid his hand over the sheet, shaking his head. “If we look, we’ll be thinking ahead and trying to answer too many things at once. Let’s just go with her as she asks. One question at a time.”

It was a different strategy than the one you’d used before, but you agreed - wanting Din to feel like you were listening to him and including him, and so you pulled one of the blank sheets in front of you, pen poised. “You’ve got it, Din.”

A few seconds later, Tina read the first question, and you were thrilled when Din spoke up right away, his tone confident. “A star. I’ve seen enough of them around to know that.”

Writing the answer down, you folded the paper in half and held it out to him, Din grinning as he jumped up to carry it to the front table. He was still smiling as he made his way back to you, and you hoped that his good mood would last throughout the rest of the night, too. “They won’t all be that easy.” He sipped his beer, getting comfortable in the seat. “Some will be really hard.”

“That’s fine.” He said your name, turning his head to look at you. “We’ve got this.”

And things went smoothly until question 7, which was a math question. “There’s not enough time to add everything.” You were panicked, frantically writing numbers on the sheet of paper. “I -”

“Each day is the same number of gifts as the number, right?”

“Right.” Your heart was beating quickly. “But we -”

“Give me a second.” He closed his eyes, thinking. “Wait, the song says that the gifts are repeated every day, though, so it’s not the same number of things over and over, it’s new…” He trailed off and reached for his pen, scribbling down a few things, his brow furrowed. “Alright, it’s… Maker, I hope this is…” He looked at you, letting out a breath. “It’s 364.”

“What?” Your eyes flicked to the timer - down to five seconds. “Din?”

“That’s it. I promise.”

You had nothing to lose and so you wrote down the number, folding the paper over before you carried it up to the front, the rest of the teams following. If he got that right, I’ll be really impressed.

When you took your seat again, Din was beaming, the pen still in his hand as he pointed at the paper with it. “What?”

“I’m right. I did the long math while you were up there.” You glanced at the equations, and even though you didn’t have time to work them out in your head, they looked correct, and you told him as much. I would have been wrong. “Everyone’s going to say 78. And that would be right if they were only counting the last day, but…”

“I would have said 78.” Covering your mouth, you sighed. “So I would have been wrong.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He elbowed you, but didn’t have a chance to continue before the next question was read, both of you putting your heads back together.

There were a few tough ones, but you worked through them - guessing on a few that involved making fudge and Santa ads, going against your own habits when it came to deciding if more people used real or artificial trees, and very quickly giving Din an explanation of why a pink bunny suit was a gift that a young boy got from his aunt in a movie that he’d never seen.

But you were having fun - and even though you tried hard not to think about it, you were focused on the fact that you and Din worked well as a team, the man listening to your ideas and answers, and not outright making you feel stupid when you gave answers that he didn’t agree with. I could get used to this, you admitted as you delivered the answer to question 17, nodding at the person that took your paper before you turned back toward your table. I could get used to being like this with him.

And that was dangerous, but you couldn’t help it, settling back into your seat as Din pointed at the question sheet. “I looked at the next question while you were up there. I haven’t seen this movie, so I don’t know.”

“It’s three.” Chewing on your lip as Tina began reading the question. “Past, present, and future. It’s supposed to help Scrooge understand what he did wrong and how he’s still got time to change, and …” You wrote the number down as you spoke, looking up at the clock. “And it all starts when his dead business partner tells him that he’s going to -”

“Isn’t it four then?” Din leaned in, tapping his index finger on the table. “The three you mentioned and then the business partner?” Oh, shit, he’s right. Quickly scribbling the “3” out, you wrote “4” just as the time ran out, dropping the pen on the table and turning your head toward Din.

“I could kiss you right now. You just saved us a point, Din. I’m an idiot, and -”

“Let me go turn it in.” He raised an eyebrow. “Otherwise it won’t matter if I was right or not.” He plucked the paper from your fingers and stood. “Be right back.” You watched him go - and let yourself think about what you’d just said, one hand rising to cover your mouth in horror. Oh, no. I just…

He hadn’t seemed upset, though, and even though your heart was pounding at your admission, you tried not to let it bother you, the comment an offhand one that anyone could have made. People say that all the time, right? People talk about …

Kissing him for knowing the answer to a trivia question was one thing - but the fact was, the more time you spent with him, the more you thought that you wanted to kiss him for real, even though you knew it was a bad idea. Not a good idea at all, so stop thinking about it. “Lots of threes on those papers.” He sat back down. “Either everyone else is wrong, or we’re the only ones that didn’t get it.

“No, you’re right.” Biting your lower lip, you forced yourself to speak. “The business partner was definitely a ghost, too.” I should have thought of that. I should have realized it was four, and not three and … “We’ll know soon enough.”

Question 19 was simple, too, and as you wrote the answer down, Din told you quickly about how he’d been to the ballet as a child and had actually seen The Nutcracker, and when you sat back down and finished your beer, you handed him the pen you’d been holding, watching as his eyes narrowed. “What’s this?”

“You write the last one.” He took it from you, not breaking eye contact. “They can read your writing for one question.”

“Alright, then what’s the answer?” He scratched the back of his neck with one hand, shrugging. “Because I have no idea. Is it somewhere in Europe? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Poinsettia in anything but a bucket, and …” Din trailed off.

“No, I don’t think so.” Frowning, you covered your face with your hands. “It’s not America. It’s not Canada. I don’t think it’s Europe. I remember someone saying that they came from somewhere warm, so South America, maybe? Chile? Peru? Brazil?”

“Colombia? Ecuador? Venezuela?” Din tapped the pen on the paper, leaving tiny black dots in its wake. “Anything sounding familiar?”

“No.” You groaned. “Nothing is popping out, I don’t… I don’t have any idea.” He lifted the pen and let it hover, staring at the blank sheet. “Just put something, Din. We have no time. We have to turn in an answer, and -” Eyes on the sheet, you watched as he scribbled down Panama and then stood up, uncertainty in his eyes. “It’s fine, Din. We can miss one.” We probably missed more than one, anyway. “Just turn it in.”

He moved slowly that time, pausing before he dropped the paper into the waiting basket and then turned to come back. You didn’t like the look on his face - disappointment didn’t suit him - and so you opened your mouth to tell him again that it was fine, but he didn’t let you, holding up a hand. “I’m going to go use the bathroom while they’re tallying everything up. Be right back.”

He turned away before you could reply, and once he was out of sight, you reached for your purse, pulling your phone out and typing the question in. Shit, it was Mexico. You groaned, flipping the phone over and letting the screen rest against the tabletop. We were close, I guess…

That meant that there was at least one out of 20 that you’d missed, but you hoped that getting one of the harder ones would make up for it. That’s all I can do now. “Can I take anything off your table?”

The bartender was back, standing next to where you were sitting, and with a nod, you gave her permission to clear the dirty dishes and finished food, along with your empty glasses. “And I’ll take a Coke, please. I don’t know if he’s going to have another drink, but -”

“I’ll have a Coke, too.” Din reappeared, a tiny smile on his face. “That sounds good.” She assured you that she’d be back in a few, and then Din sat back down next to you, leaning in. “We were wrong.”

‘I know.” You sighed, closing your eyes. “It was Mexico.”

“That’s alright, though. I think we got enough of the other ones to keep us in the top portion of that section.” He scratched at his cheek, sniffing. “And there’s still two more games to go.”

“Well the next one is more luck than anything.” You pointed at the envelope. “Just depends on how quick you are and what’s on the board.”

“Speaking of luck,” Din continued, his attention on the stage in front of you. “Your ex, James? He was in the bathroom. He walked in as I was walking out, and I’m pretty sure if looks could kill, I’d be about 12 feet under right now.”

“Well he’s going to have to get used to seeing me with other guys if he’s planning on staying in Mistletoe.” You scowled, doodling on the question sheet in front of you, the black ink swirling over the page. “Dating or not. That’s what happens when you break up with someone - they move on with their life, even if you don’t like it.”

“Well he definitely doesn’t like me.” Din’s smile was bright, the dimple on his cheek deep, and you were overcome with the desire to reach out and press your thumb over it, cupping his cheek with your palm. But I’m not going to. I can’t. “I didn’t say anything to him, though. Just nodded and walked out.”

“Two Cokes.” The bartender came back, plastic cups in her hands. “And it looks like I’m just in time, too. Good luck.”

She was - Tina was heading back to the stage, microphone in hand. You and Din thanked the young woman before she stepped away, and soon after, your attention was fully on the stage in front of you, the heat and heft of Din’s body noticeable to your left. He could have moved back. There’s no reason for us to be next to each other here.

“Round two is about to begin.” Tina tapped the mic, staring out at the crowd. “But before we start that, we’ll announce the winners of the trivia round.” She paused and you looked over at Din, his attention straight ahead. He’s more competitive than I thought he was. “It was close, and we actually had a three-team tie for third place.” I hope that’s not us. “Team Holi-daze, Danny Quizito and Threepeat all had 16 points.”

“That’s a good score.” Your frown deepened. “I’m not sure we could have beat that, and -”

“We don’t have a team name.” Din leaned closer, his breath warm on the skin of your cheek. “There wasn’t anywhere to write it, and -” Shit, no we don’t.

“We had to fill it in on the website, but I never did. I -” You swore, swiping at your face with one hand. “Shit, I completely forgot.”

“Smarty Pints, you’re in second place with 17 points.” Tina continued, turning her attention to the table immediately to your right, the two people sitting there cheering. One more shot. “And to our first place winners, we’re going to need a team name from you, because right now, all we’ve got is a table number.” She spin toward you, holding one hand out and pointing. “Table eight, congratulations, you had a score of 20, thanks to getting one of the bonus questions right.”

You moved without thinking, leaning over and hugging Din, his arms going around you briefly before he pulled away, his smile broad. “Can’t believe we did it!” He was excited but then caught himself, head shaking back and forth. “But we need a team name. What should we tell them?”

“I don’t care. You pick.” You were thrilled with the win - but even more thrilled at the fact that Din had returned your hug, hold firm as he pulled you to his chest and held you there, even though it was only for a few seconds. I liked how that felt too much. Way too much.

“Anything?” You nodded, agreeing. “Ok. Um…” Cleaning his throat, Din held up one finger. “Our team name will be …” After thinking through it, you saw the moment Din came to a decision, another smile lighting up his face. “How about Clan Mudhorn?” It made no sense to you - though the phrase sounded slightly familiar, but you had no objection. It’s different, that’s for sure.

“Alright then.” Tina wrote the name down on the paper she held before picking it back up. “Clan Mudhorn is in the lead as of right now, but the unpredictability of the next two rounds mean that it’s still anyone’s game… and with that, we should get started on the musical bingo portion of the night.”

She instructed you to open the second envelope, which contained ten bingo cards. The letters and numbers were replaced with titles of Christmas songs, and as you scanned the sheets, you decided that there was no real way to predict which would be the right choice for the rounds. “How does this work?”

“She’ll explain it in a second,” you murmured as you counted out five sheets and handed them to Din. “But basically, you just listen to the song played and then mark it down on the sheet.” Pointing at your own stack, you glanced over at him. “Each team uses two sheets per round, so we’ll use all of them, but you’re only allowed to have one per player per round to make it a little more fair.”

“Got it.” He was frowning as his eyes scanned the boxes. “I don’t… I don’t know half of these.”

“It’s fine, Din,” Reaching over, you squeezed his hand. Just do what you can, alright? There are three winners per round, so we have a three in sixteen chance every time.” Pulling your hand back, you went quiet, eyes going back to the sheet of paper on the top of the stack. We just need to win one each round, and that will be enough to keep us out of the bottom of the ranking.

And you believed that - but your thoughts were much more focused on the way it had felt to touch Din’s hand, the way his skin was soft and warm, the slight flex of his muscles as he moved his fingers. I want to hold his hand for real. It wasn’t the time, but it was the truth, and as the two of you listened to Tina go over the rules one final time, you looked over at Din again, finding that he was watching her with intensity, his dark eyes focused on where she stood. “Can you do me a favor?”

He said your name, finally breaking his gaze away from her and looking back at you. “Yeah?”

“Will you whisper the name of the song under your breath when you figure it out?” He looked - and sounded - worried, but you agreed immediately, telling him that you’d already planned on it. “Thank you. That’s the only way I’ll even have a chance … what he hell is a ‘Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays’?”

“The best Christmas song from the 90’s that isn’t Mariah Carey, and it’s not even close.” You shrugged, deadpanning your answer. “Din, it’s not Christmas until you hear that song, and Justin Timberlake’s -”

“Oh, so it’s a boyband.” He raised an eyebrow. “That the kind of music you like?”

“Not so much now, no.” Wrinkling your nose, you continued. “All of the new stuff is … meh.” You sipped your drink, shrugging. “But back then? Those were the good old days. Britney and Nsync and Backstreet Boys and even -”

“You might as well be speaking in a different language.” Din grinned. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

“I’ll play you a couple whole songs sometime. You’ll only hear a few seconds of them tonight, and it’s not enough.” He rolled his eyes playfully, and you gestured to the two bingo daubers in front of you. “What color? Green or red?”

“Red. It’ll match my shirt.” He reached for it at the same time you did, and before you could stop it from happening, his fingers closed over yours, his palm warm against the back of your hand. You sucked in a breath, attempting to pull back, but Din’s fingers flexed again, keeping yours in place.

Turning your head to the side, you met his eyes, Din’s gaze warm and his mouth set in a tiny smile. “Din, I -” You closed your fingers around the dauber and Din’s hold also tightened. Well I got what I wanted, kind of. “What are -”

“Alright we’re going to get started.” Tina’s voice cut in, the woman tapping on the mic twice. “Five seconds of each song in each round, and we’ll continue until we get three bingos. The music will pause as soon as someone claims a win, and start again after it’s confirmed.”

At the sound of her voice, Din released your hand and you dropped the dauber, switching to the green one and uncapping it as you looked away, chewing on your lower lip. Ok, that was awkward. “Good luck, Din.”

Out of the corner of one eye, you watched as he reached for the remaining marker, his other hand straightening the sheet of paper on the table in front of him. “You too.”

It was the second time that night that you’d questioned yourself for the things you’d said or done - and even though Din hadn’t reacted negatively to either case, you could feel that your heart was pounding, nerves getting the better of you - and it had nothing to do with the competition. I like him, you admitted to yourself as the music started, Jingle Bells blaring out over the speakers. “Jingle Bells.”

He thanked you, marking the song off on his sheet while you did the same, and then the song changed to one that wasn’t on your card, though you used the opportunity to mark off the center square. I think I really like him.

It wasn’t the right time to think about it, and so you tried not to, pushing your unease to the side and focusing on the songs that played, muttering titles under your breath for Din. He scooted closer every few switches, Din’s thigh pressed against yours, and even though you wanted to read more into it, you knew that it was only so that he could hear you more easily - but you weren’t about to complain.

The first bingo came from a different table, and it was quickly confirmed, but Din’s was the second, your partner jumping to his feet and waving the paper in the air. With a smile on your face, you watched as it was confirmed and marked down before he returned to your table, the smile still on his face. “One down, five to go.”

“Hopefully it’s more than that.” Your reply was quiet as you focused back on your own card, but it was pointless - the third winner called two songs later. “I needed one more and I would have had a triple bingo.” Frowning as you folded your board in half and set it aside, you reached for another sheet. “So close.”

“Next time.” He settled into his seat, pushing his sleeves up past his elbows. “Four more rounds to go. Maybe we’ll both win one.” You hoped he was right - but it didn’t happen during the second round, three winners coming in quick succession before either of you had even marked down more than a handful of squares on your sheets. “Hey, it’s fine. We won the trivia,” Din cleared his throat before the third round started, saying your name. “That counts for something.”

“It does. I’m just … I don’t like losing.” He leaned in, mouth set in a firm line.

“I don’t either.” Tapping the table with one fingertip, Din shook his head back and forth. “And we won’t. So stop worrying.”

“Alright.” Music began playing and your eyes widened - your attention going back to the sheet in front of you. “Last Christmas, Din.” It was a cover, but it still only took a few seconds for the entire bar to start singing along, and you were delighted when it continued for longer than the five seconds all the others had played for.

When you looked back over at Din, grinning as you sung along, too, he looked confused but intrigued, his lips slightly parted as everyone hit the chorus, but at the sight of his laughter, you stopped singing and laughed, too, shoulders shaking. Oh, I really like this.

The song tapered off, and Tina gave everyone a chance to settle down, the sound of clapping and cheers filling the bar for a few seconds while you and Din continued to laugh together. “So everyone likes that one, hmm?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of a joke around here. There’s a game and everything, and it involves trying to avoid hearing the original between Thanksgiving and Christmas Day, so that’s why they played a cover.” You took a deep breath. “No one lost that game, we marked off a couple squares, and -”

The music starting again interrupted you, but it was Din that told you the name of the song, bent low over the table and moving his dauber into place as you stared on in shock. He knows some of them, then.

Two songs later, it was you that rose from your chair, paper in hand as you shouted ‘bingo’ and headed for the front of the room, still smiling as the music ended. It was quickly confirmed, Tina’s assistant making off a “3 - #1” on the corner of your sheet and congratulating you.

Din did the same when you sat back down, though his attention very quickly went back to his own bingo card. Watching intently as he continued to mark off the songs as you told him the titles, you cheered out loud when he marked off a final square and got a double bingo. Din’s voice carried over the sounds of Michael Buble singing ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ as he hurried to the front of the room with his card in his hand. So it’s like we’ve won once each round. This is good. This is enough.

When he sat back down, Din was giddy, getting his 4th card situated before he turned his head to look at you, wetting his lips. “We make a good team.”

“We do.” You answered without hesitation, smile wide. “This is really fun, Din.” He agreed, and then the fourth round started, both of you turning your attention back to the sheets in front of you. It was tough - you got nothing for four songs in a row and then your luck changed, green circles appearing on your sheet one after the other until you got a bingo - at the same time someone else did, both of you making your way to the front of the room to wait your turn.

It was confirmed, too, and you could see the look of concentration on Din’s face as he waited for the music to play again, fingers holding the dauber tightly. Your anxiety grew as more songs played, but the room stayed quiet, and before you knew it, Din was on his feet again, the man claiming bingo as he rushed to the front of the room, pushing through tables of people. Seriously?

He had a smug look on his face when he sat back down as Tina told everyone to switch to the final round’s sheets, and you couldn’t help laughing, your elbow shooting out to nudge against his ribs. “C’mon Din. Don’t be a sore winner. It’s still not over yet.”

“No, it isn’t. But five seems like a really good number to have right about now.” You agreed, but there was no time to talk further because the music started playing, and unlike the previous round, you were marking squares off from the beginning - though Din wasn’t.

That all changed though, when you heard the next song start, Din marking the space on his board before you’d even opened your mouth and then turning to you and holding a hand out while he mouthed the words. “Are you actually ….”

He wasn’t alone - there was another round of cheers as the rest of the bar joined in, laughter and clapping almost drowning out the sound of Mariah Carey, but what really surprised you was hearing Din actually sing the words, his eyes full of laughter as he shimmied his shoulders in time with the music, never missing a beat.

You joined in quickly, closing your eyes and shaking your head as you laughed through the lyrics, your voices mingling with everyone else’s as the song continued to play. Oh, this is perfect.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw that Din was still singing, and when he saw that you were watching, he reached out again, palm up. You reacted immediately, placing your hand in his, and when he squeezed you didn’t feel the need to pull back. Instead, you curled your fingertips against his palm while he pressed his free hand against his chest, voice getting louder as he promised he wouldn’t even wish for snow.

It was somewhat impressive that he knew all of the lyrics - especially after he’d warned you that he wasn’t great with Christmas music, and despite the fact that you didn’t want to think about him, you had a brief flash of the previous year and James sitting rigidly in his chair while the rest of the bar erupted into song, your ex ignoring all of your attempts to pull him into the fun. But Din’s not … he’s … he’s enjoying this, and … it’s not fake.

Din didn’t, however, attempt to hit the high note at the end, instead trailing off as he gave your hand one final squeeze and then let go, burying his face in his hands and resting his elbows on the table, both of you laughing while the song wound down. “That was something else, Din.” Leaning closer you briefly rested your cheek against his shoulder before straightening up. ‘Didn’t know you could sing.”

“Oh, I can’t.” He lifted his head and looked at you. “My … friend back home always complains about my singing. He says that I sound like a yowling Loth cat …” Din’s eyes widened as he trailed off, shaking his head quickly. “He’s just joking, so…” What’s a Loth cat?

But you didn’t ask, and instead, you rolled your eyes again. “You sound fine, Din. This isn’t a singing competition, and you should be really thankful for that, because I’m not great, and we’d definitely lose.”

“I’m sure you’re fine.” He was smiling again, the song ending as the bar erupted into another round of applause. “Alright, I guess we’ve gotta get serious again.” He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, picking up the dauber again. “Get it together, Djarin.” Yeah, I need to get it together, too.

You didn’t know if Din was going to bring up the fact that you’d held hands for an extended period of time, but until he did, you decided that you wouldn’t. Either. I don’t want to put him on the spot. Marking off a few squares, you froze at the sound of someone calling out bingo - only to relax a few seconds later when she yelled out that she’d been wrong. That’s a relief.

Din was close again - there were four songs that would give him a single bingo, and you were almost positive that he’d get it before you did, but then you went on a three-in-a-row streak, your card almost entirely filled with green dots. “We’re so close.” You groaned as a song neither of you had played, your eyes darting to the bar around you. “We just need -”

And then the familiar lyrics of ‘Frosty The Snowman’ started playing and you and Din both jumped to your feet, waving your papers - but so did three others, the five of you rushing to the front of the room. Shit. I don’t know how they settle a tie.

Tina took a step back, though she asked for everyone’s sheets, and as the woman eyed all of you - Din standing slightly behind you with his chest pressed against the back of your shoulder - she nodded twice. “Alright, so since you all called it at once, if these are legitimate bingo wins, we’ll let you five claim for this round.”

It was a change in the rules but it was fair, since there was no surefire way to know who’d marked and claimed a win first. “This happen often?” Din whispered the words in your ear, his tone low and his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Changing the rules like this?”

“Sometimes.” You swallowed hard and fought the urge to lean back and into him, instead turning around so that you were facing each other. “This just makes it fair. There’s no advantage, and since everyone won on the same song, it just means the round is over fast.” He nodded, eyes on you, but before he could say anything else, Tina, returned to the microphone, the woman’s smile wide.

“Arlight, all five are confirmed wins. Take your seats while we tally up the numbers, and we’ll announce the winners in fifteen minutes - just before the final round starts.” Din’s fingers brushed your hip as he turned away from you, heading back toward the table - and you followed closely, still stunned with the fact that out of seventeen possible bingo wins, you and Din had seven of them. That has to be enough. It has to.

He took a seat while you bypassed the table, heading for the bathroom, and while in there, you gave yourself a few moments to catch your breath. The night was overwhelming you in the best ways - it was fantastic to spend time with Din, it was amazing that you were winning, and it seemed like he was having a great time, too…but there was still a part of your brain that was telling you to be careful. Don’t overthink this. Don’t … get ahead of yourself.

You didn’t think you were - Din was sending out the classic signals, and even though you were trying hard not to outright react to them, you knew that you hadn’t been entirely successful. But that’s ok, because like Cara and Stacy said, I’m single. He’s single, and this can … this can happen. If it… if we want it to. “Get it together.” You spoke into the mirror, shoulders set. “Get it the fuck together.”

“Talking to yourself?” One of the other competitors - Meagan - was in the bathroom, too, the woman washing her hands at the sink next to you. “It seems a lot more intense this year, and this is only the first night.”

“Right?” Turning your head to the side, you smiled. “It’s hard not to get competitive, even when it’s just over trivia.” The woman laughed, drying her hands off before she turned to face you, arms crossed over your chest.

“So, your partner.” She licked her lips, arching a brow. “Are you together, or -”

“No, we’re not. We just work together. James and I broke up, so I needed a backup, and … Din agreed.”

“He’s hot.” She ran one hand through her hair. “Really hot. Is he single?” It hit you like a knife to the chest, and though you managed to keep your reaction hidden, the question - and subsequent answer - almost hurt.

“He is, I think, We haven’t really talked about it, but he’s never mentioned a girlfriend, so…”

“Hmm.” Meagan winked at you. “You gonna go for it?”

“Go for it? With Din?” You laughed, but the knot in your chest began to loosen - the simple fact that she hadn’t asked if he was single for herself comforting you more than it had any right to. “We’re just teammates and coworkers.”

“If you say so.” She wiped her hands and then crossed her arms. “Couldn’t help watching him sing to you, and you would have to be blind to have missed the way he was looking at you.” What? He was just … it was just a song. “That man being single is a miracle, and I doubt it stays that way for long, especially if he starts coming out more.” She uncrossed her arms and moved toward the door. “This is a small town. There’s only so many places to hide, and I can promise you that putting him in this competition is going to make people want to get to know him. He seems fun.”

You followed her out of the bathroom and back into the bar. “He is fun. We don’t know each other well, but …” Frowning, you looked down. “Thanks, Meagan.”

“Hey, for once, I’m glad Stacy was right about a guy.” She laughed as you reached her table, the woman sinking down into a seat next to her sister. “She told me he was eye candy and wasn’t lying.” Of course she did. The woman winked at you before you turned away and closed the distance to where Din was sitting and scrolling through his phone with one hand.

“Ordered you a refill. Figured you’d want one more drink for the last round.” He glanced up, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips. “Hope that was alright.”

“Yeah.” You sat, scooting your chair slightly to the right and putting some distance between you. “This last round’s a little less hectic, but …”

“I hope I didn’t overstep when I grabbed your hand earlier.” Din said your name quietly, “I know you’re just getting over a breakup, and I don’t want you to think that I … want, or … that I’m…” He was stumbling over his words - and because you could hear the sincerity in his tone, you decided to cut in, reaching over to settle your hand atop his again.

“Don’t apologize. I didn’t mind. I don’t… I don’t mind.” Being honest was important to you, and you didn’t want to jeopardize things with Din by lying - even about something small. “I liked it. I like you, Din. And I’m not sure what that means right now, but … it’s the truth.”

He sat in silence for long moments, eyes on you, and then he smiled, the expression overtaking his face with a slow grace, his lips parting to expose straight, white teeth, the dimple appearing on his cheek again - and a slight flush creeping up his neck. “I like you too.” He closed his eyes, blowing out a breath. “Good to know I’m not alone in that.”

“You’re not.” You rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. “Not at all.”

There was more that you wanted to say, but before either of you could, Tina was back on the stage, the woman clearing her throat to quiet everyone down. “Alright we’ve got the results here from the previous round, and it looks like yet again, Clan Mudhorn came in first with 7 total bingos!”

“Hey, we won!” Din pulled his hand out from under yours and then hugged you again, holding on for a little longer that time than he had the first. “Does that mean we -”

“Congratulations to the two of you, but, remember - the third portion of tonight, each correct answer is worth one point… so if someone gets all of them and you miss a few, they can still catch up.” She continued and listed the teams that had come in second and third place - one of them Smarty Pints, which meant that they were right on your tail. But we can still win this. He said that he’s good at puzzles, so… “You’ll have five minutes to complete as many of the answers on the page that you can, and at the end of the time, we’ll collect the sheets from you, and then count compare them to the answer sheet.”

“Sounds simple enough.” Din murmured the words, fingers inching closer to the envelope. “You can write again.” Laughing, you picked up the pen and twisted it between your fingers, waiting for the go-ahead.

And then Tina gave it, the woman telling you to open your envelopes and pull the sheet out. Your eyes widened at the sight of the print on the page. “Sixty? How the hell are we -”

“Hey, this is easy, come on.” He ran his finger along the margin of the paper. “Just do the ones we know right away, and then work through the harder ones.” I’m glad one of us is calm. There hadn’t ever been that many questions to answer before, but you took a deep breath and pulled the sheet closer to you, turning it so that you could write out the answers.

The two of you were able to guess just under half of the words at first glance - things like tape and ribbon, sled and cards. He got just as many words as you did, and while you completed your first pass on the sheet, Din went back to the beginning, muttering things under his breath and using the spare pencil to scribble on one of the spare sheets. “Remember,” Tina’s voice cut in. “Things have to be spelled correctly to be counted as right answers.” Shit.

You made it a point to go back and check what you’d already written, and when you were satisfied that everything was right, you looked over at him, waiting. “Any others you want to share with me?”

“Actually, yeah.” He grinned, pushing his sheet over to you. “Here.”

He’d written down twelve more answers for you, along with the numbers on the page, and you hastily filled them in, being sure to check the spelling - and make sure that you were using all of the provided letters. “That’s… you weren’t lying.” He’s fast at this.

“I know.” He reached for the paper and slid it toward him, eyes scanning the empty spaces. “We only have about 20 left. We should…” Trailing off, he pointed. “Angels.” You filled it in, and by the time you were done, he had another one for you. “Secret Santa.”

You were smiling as the time wound down, and even though you felt rushed as you entered in a few more - Prancer and Scrooge and Decorations - you weren’t upset when time ran out and you had empty lines - and neither was Din.

He took the sheet to the front, laughing with Tina as he handed it over, and when he sat back down next to you, he settled his hand on your shoulder. “That was a hell of a lot of fun.”

“It was.” You felt his grip on you tighten, and you turned your head toward him, wetting your lips. “I think that this was … a good idea, Din.”

“Yeah?” You nodded, unwilling to look away. “I think so too.”

“So you don’t want to drop out? Switch partners? You’d be at a disadvantage, but I’m sure Omera would -”

“No way.” Din’s smile grew. “She’s got nothing on you.” I agree, but I’m not going to say that out loud. “Tonight’s proof that we work well together like this.” He was still touching you, his thumb arcing slowly over the front of your shoulder. You could feel it - even through your sweater, and again you were struck with how casual things were between you - his touch simple but meaningful - unable to be ignored but not too forward. He’s holding back, I think. He has to be, otherwise -

“Good job tonight.” You saw Din’s eyes flash briefly before pulling his hand away - but not hastily, giving your shoulder one final squeeze before he returned it to the table and picked up his glass. Of course.

“Yeah, we did a good job, didn’t we.” Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you tore your attention away from Din and looked up at the man standing behind you. “This is my coworker, Din. Din, this is my ex, James.”

“Hey.” Din shifted in his chair, his eyes passing over your face as he reached up with one hand to shake James’, the other still holding onto his glass. “Guess I should thank you for me even being here, hmm?”

“I…” James frowned, slowly extending his hand and taking Din’s, the seated man’s fingers engulfing the other man’s. “I guess so?”

“She told me you were supposed to be her partner, and then when you broke up a couple weeks ago, she needed someone to take your place.” He was choosing his words carefully - you knew it, and if the glint in his eyes was any indication, Din knew that you knew it, too. “And I mean, we don’t know who won yet, but I’ve got a good feeling about our chances, so…” He let go of James’ hand, hooking his elbow casually over the back of the chair. “Feel pretty good going into the next event.”

James’ jaw twitched - you saw the motion of it but he stayed quiet and just looked at Din - and then at you. It was somewhat satisfying to know that he was uncomfortable. Even though Din hadn’t outright been rude or overstepped, making your friendship out to be more than it was, you were thrilled to see that he wasn’t backing down under James’ stare - and that he hadn’t gone out of his way to confirm that the two of you were nothing more than coworkers. Because even though it’s true, it shouldn’t matter.

“I do, too.” You looked away from James and grabbed your cup, taking a drink. “I met Din at work. He started what, 8 months ago?”

“About that, long, yeah.” Din’s lips twitched at your addition to the conversation as he nodded in agreement. “Can’t believe you remember.”

“Well the last IT guy was absolutely useless. Remember I used to complain about him?” Rolling your eyes, you turned back to Din. “It’s been different at the office with you around.” It wasn’t a lie - but it also wasn’t the entire truth; the differences weren’t only limited to his on the job capabilities. It’s been nice having him around for a lot of reasons. “Anyway. Thanks for coming over to congratulate us, though.” I’m done with this.

“I…” James spluttered over his words, scoffing. “I also … we never finished our conversation from earlier, at the bar? I wanted to talk to you about -”

“We did finish it, though.” Giving him a tight smile, you blinked twice. “I have nothing else to say to you about what happened between us.”

“I thought we -”

“You thought wrong.” At the last second, you changed your tone, the words coming out in a firm - but not angry - tone. “It’s over, James. We want and expect different things, and I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

There was nothing more that he could say to that, and so he gave you a final look and then turned away, your eyes following his back as he retreated through the crowd. Shit, that was…

“You alright?” Din’s question surprised you, though when you looked over at him again, there was genuine concern in his eyes. “I hope I didn’t … say anything you didn’t want me to.”

“You didn’t.” Laying your hand on his forearm, you looked down at the placement of your fingers, noticing a thin, silvery scar that curved over the space just beneath his elbow. I’ve never seen that before. “I appreciate you speaking up. I don’t want to give him any sort of false hope that I’m going to get back with him, and if he knows that I’m… moving forward and not just ignoring the place he used to be in my life, it… it’ll do that.”

“Well I’m happy to take his place.” Din paused. “That sounded… I meant here, for this competition.” The words were rushed, Din ducking his head again. “Not that I think anything else is -”

“I know what you meant, Din. And I’m happy you’re here, too.” You trailed a fingertip over the scar for a second and then pulled your hand back. “In whatever capacity this is.”

His head shot back up, eyes wide as they found yours, but there was no time for explanation because Tina took the stage again, a piece of paper in her hand. The bar went quiet as she smiled down at the crowd, holding up one finger. “I told you that this round could change everything.”

“Oh, no.” Din groaned, lowering his chin. “Shit, we…”

“In third place overall, we have Team Caffeine, who got 34 of the word scramble answers correct.” The two of them stood as Tina continued. “They’ve won a $25 gift certificate to the coffee shop downtown, and take 15 points into the second event.” People clapped politely as the two of them collected their prize and sat back down. “Second place goes to Smarty Pints, who edged out Team Caffeine by five points overall thanks to their second place finish earlier.” She paused to let people clap. “They win a $25 gift card and a guaranteed order slot to Jenelle’s Bakery for two dozen Christmas cookies or cupcakes and twenty points going event number two.”

“That’s a good prize,” you mumbled, wrinkling your nose. “I wouldn’t have been mad about that, those cupcakes are amazing.” Din laughed from next to you, but it was short lived as Tina raised the mic again and looked around the room before her gaze landed directly on your table.

“And I think we all know who the big winners are. Clan Mudhorn got 47 of the words unscrambled correctly, which only added to their lead, and they’ll be taking 25 points into the next event, along with winning a night out - dinner here along with a pair of movie tickets.”

You were frozen in your seat, but Din urged you to your feet, the two of you heading up to collect your prize. Tina handed him the envelope but he immediately passed it to you, thanking the woman before you made your way back to your table. “We won!” It finally sunk in when you sat back down, the bright red envelope held tightly in your hands. “Din, thank you. I couldn’t… wouldn’t have won without you, and -”

“Nah, don’t mention it.” He was excited too, though, and you wanted to memorize the sight of his grin and the sparkle in his eyes. “Team effort, right? You carried us through the bingo, and -” He cut himself off, running one hand through his hair. “And listen, if you want to use that with your friend Stacy or Cara, or -”

“No way.” You slid the envelope across the tabletop so that it sat in front of him. “We won it, so we should use it together.” Oh, shit. I… “Only if you want to, though.”

It took him a few seconds to look back up at you, but when he did, you saw that he was holding back a smile, trying to keep his tone even even though you saw the happiness in his eyes. “Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah. I guess I am, Din.”

—

Tag list reblog coming soon!

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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

Text

Competing For Christmas 6: Let It Snow (The Aftermath)

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 6,387

Rating: M. Language.

Summary: You and Din have laid it all out and established some ground rules ... where do you go next - and how do you cope with the looming end of the competition ... and the lack of a legitimate reason for the two of you to see each other?

Author’s notes:

Still plugging along on this - please accept this first half of the 6th part as I finish the second half - and cover the final event. Thank you again for your patience.

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open!

I’m so glad that everyone still seems to be enjoying this story, it’s definitely taken on a little more of a life of its own than I anticipated - but I’m still having fun with it.

Masterlist / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5.1 / Part 5.2 / Din’s POV Interlude

Din’s desk was empty and his office light was off when you stopped by on Monday afternoon.

At first, you thought that maybe he’d stepped out to go and complete a work order, but when you looked around the room and saw his powered off computer and completely closed blinds, you realized that he hadn’t been in at all that day.

“If you’re looking for Djarin, he called out today.” Turning at the sound of the voice, you saw one of the other IT guys across the hall, arms crossed over his chest. “There something I can help you with?”

“No.” You fought the urge to cross your arms, too, and just shook your head. “I was just stopping by to say hello, I didn’t know he wasn’t here.”

“Yeah, he sent an email this morning that said he was taking a personal day. Should be back tomorrow.” The man nodded. “I gotta get back to work. If you need anything, I’m here and so’s Mike.” Thanking him, you turned back toward your office, biting back a frown.

You hadn’t expected Din to clue you in to everything he was doing after the discovery of the picture the previous day, but you’d thought that he would have at least let you know he wouldn’t be at work.

Making your way through the hall, you let yourself get lost in your thoughts and hoped desperately that no one would stop you and try to start a conversation, because you were in no mood.

He’d frozen the previous morning, eyes fixed on the glowing screen of your phone - but instead of getting mad about it, Din had only reached for the device, taking it from your hands and setting it down before turning to face you.

“Hey.” His hands framed your face, Din saying your name quietly. “It’s not your fault. I’m not mad at you. We’ll figure it out.”

“But this is exactly what you didn’t want to happen, Din. It’s why we have to be careful. We just talked about -” He cut you off with a kiss - just a quick press of his lips to yours, but it was enough to stop your speech.

“I’ll fix it.” Mumbling the words against your mouth, he wound his arms around you. “Give me some time.”

You didn’t know what he meant by “fix it”, but when you’d left fifteen minutes later, Din assuring you that it was fine for you to go, he’d watched from his front window, waving at you while you backed out of the driveway.

You’d spent the remainder of Sunday worrying, though you hadn’t reached out because you figured that you’d either see him at work the next day, or he’d get ahold of you to give you an update. Neither had happened, which was what brought you to his office door once things had calmed down in your afternoon … and led you to the realization that he hadn’t come in.

Against your better judgment, you pulled your phone out to stare at it, trying to decide whether or not you wanted to text him. He’s not mad. The worst he can do is ignore the message. It would crush you to know that that’s what he was doing, but you didn’t think Din would shut you out - and so you typed a quick message, hastily shoving your phone back into your pocket when you were done.

Hey. Just tried to go to your office and saw you’re not here. Hope everything’s alright.

Keeping yourself busy, you didn’t check for replies until almost an hour later, the weight lifting from your chest when you saw his response.

Working on it. Was going to let you know but I’ve been on the phone all morning.

That made sense - if Mandalore was in a different time zone, he’d need to take care of things whenever was convenient for everyone involved - which meant making things work across an ocean. It wasn’t an explanation, but it also wasn’t a dismissal, and that was enough.

Just before you stepped out of your office to meet with a coworker about a project, your phone vibrated again.

Can I stop over tonight after you’re done with work?

You didn’t even think about it - typing back a message immediately.

Of course. Bring Grogu if you want. My yard’s fenced in.

He sent back a thumbs up, and you stowed your phone and locked your office door, trying to push your growing anxiety down. It’s going to be fine. It’s got to be.

—

He showed up at a little after 6, standing on your doorstep with Grogu’s leash in one hand and a take out bag in the other, and with no hesitation, you let them both in. “You didn’t need to bring dinner. I was just going to make -”

“Now you don’t have to.” He set the bag down and unclipped Grogu’s leash from his collar, hanging it over the back of one chair. “I guessed about what you like, so I hope that I did alright.” He held the bag out to you and you took it from him, eyeing the contents.

“Looks good, Din.” Pausing to glance up, you bit your lip. “Plates? Or just eating out of the containers?”

“Is that something you do here?” You laughed at the sincerity of his question, Din’s lips set into a frown. “I didn’t know that.”

“Sometimes.” You shrugged. “But if we wanted to share, it’s easier to use plates.”

“Whatever’s easier for you.” He ran a hand through his hair, unblinking. “Can I help you with anything?”

You told him no, and only a few minutes later, the two of you were seated on your couch and using the coffee table to eat from, your tree and the TV the only lights on in the room.

You ate in silence for a little while, Din only speaking to tell Grogu no when he tried to jump on your loveseat. “It’s fine, he can lay there.” You were smiling at the sight - the dog standing in front of your tree, backlit by the bright lights. “It’s just dog hair, Din. As long as he doesn’t chew the cushion, I don’t mind.”

“Maela, Grogu.” Din’s voice was quiet, but as soon as he spoke, the dog jumped up and onto the furniture, curling up so that he could still watch as the two of you ate. “I’m really sorry I didn’t let you know I wouldn’t be in today. I was on the phone with Boba for hours last night, and then this morning, I had a call with him and Fennec and the Council, and then we had to -”

“You don’t need to explain.” Swallowing a bite, you shook your head. “As long as you got things taken care of, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I do, though.” He set his fork down, turning his body toward you and resting his hands on his knees. “Because this involves you. Have you looked at the site today?” You hadn’t - though the page was still open on your phone, you hadn’t refreshed it. “Go ahead.”

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you did what he asked - refreshing the page. The pictures were still there - people gathered by the gazebo, all of you beneath the warming tent before the competition started, the different teams throughout the night. Why is he making me… But when you got to the pictures from after the end of the competition, you were shocked to see that even though the one of you and Din and the snowmen was there… the one of you kissing was gone - and so was his name. “It’s gone.” Looking up, you widened your eyes. “Din, how did -”

“A lot of phone calls. A lot of explanations.” He sighed, rubbing at his forehead, and for the first time, you realized how exhausted he looked. “The event organizers were much more understanding than I thought they’d be, but I’m also almost positive they never thought they’d have a King calling them, so…” You laughed at that, wetting your lips and waiting. “Have you heard anything from any of your friends? Did any of them see it?”

“Not that I know of.” You’d texted both Stacy and Cara to catch up that morning, and neither of them had said a word about seeing a picture of you and Din kissing. “And my friends would have been the first to say something if they’d seen it. I don’t know about the rest of the town, but -”

“The page views were really low after they uploaded. They didn’t even post anything until yesterday morning, so I think we caught it pretty fast.” He scooted closer. “I have to be careful, though. Really careful moving forward, because even though Boba understands, he wasn’t …”

“I know, Din.” You tilted your head. “I didn’t even save it, so if it’s not on that site, then … then it might as well never have existed.” I should have saved it.

“Oh, it existed.” He reached for you, his fingers trailing over yours. “I’m sorry that I had to have it deleted. I don’t … I don’t like the idea of …” You knew what he was trying to say, and could tell that he was having trouble getting the words out, so you saved him, moving closer and putting your free hand on his knee.

“I know why you did it.” You met his eyes, holding his gaze. “You don’t have to explain that part to me. I’m just glad you didn’t get in trouble with Boba.”

“Trouble? Nah. No way.” He grinned. “And it wouldn’t really even be trouble, it would just be … more explanations if the Mandalorian press got ahold of it - now or later.”

“Yeah, especially if I’m not in Mandalore with you, right?” You squeezed his hand. “I get it, Din. It’s what we’d consider a wake up call over here. Actions have consequences, and -” He said your name, shoulders rising and falling. “What?”

“Why are you so understanding about all of this? The secrecy, me being next in line to rule, the limited time we have… it’s a lot to take in, and you’re just … acting like it’s nothing.”

“What do you want me to do?” You snapped at him, the reaction an unconscious - but immediate - one. “Get mad about it? Tell you that you need to make a choice between doing what you’re obligated to do and me, someone that you’ve only really known for a few weeks? Try to make you feel guilty for doing exactly what we agreed we’d do?” You pushed to your feet, moving away from the couch. “Believe me, I want to, Din. I want to look you in the eye and tell you how unbelievably unfair this is - how shitty it’s going to be when you tell me that this has to end because you’re going back home.” You spun back to face him, Din frozen in place on your couch and looking up at you with wide eyes.

He looked beautiful in the low light of the room and it gave you pause, your anger and frustration abating slightly before it rushed back full force. But it’s the truth. And he asked.

“It’s not nothing, Din. But if I let myself get emotional about this, all it’s going to do is make us feel worse and give us more of a reason to cut this off as soon as the competition ends instead of in a few months.” You wiped away a tear, squeezing your eyes shut. “And I definitely don’t want that because I’d rather have a few months more with you than nothing at all.”

Din stood, fingers flexing as his arms hung by his sides, but he didn’t move closer to you. He wanted to - you could tell by his posture. But at the look on his face, you understood that he wouldn’t, because he didn’t know what to say or do after he did. Yeah, I don’t know either.

“I shouldn’t have asked you to be my partner.” You covered your face with one hand, lowering your head. “But fuck, Din, I wanted to get to know you. And because I was attracted to you even when I was with James, it felt disrespectful to do it before we broke up. Not because I would have acted on it, but -”

“You … were attracted to me before?” He did step closer at that, surprise written all over his face. “I had no idea.”

“You’re a good looking guy, Din. Physically, yes. I thought you were very attractive. And we didn’t talk much, but from what I knew of you, you seemed … nice. And you’re smart, and like I said, I wouldn’t have done anything about it when I was with someone else, so…” Sighing you rubbed at your temples. “So I was respectful of James and our relationship, and did what every other woman in the office did and admired you from afar.” Trying to crack a smile, you shrugged. “Kept the work days interesting, that’s for sure.”

Din closed the distance between you, reaching out and waiting until you’d taken his hand to speak. “I know you’d never ask me to choose. And it is unfair, and it is going to be kriffing awful when I have to go back, but I’m glad you asked me.” He squeezed your hand, raising his other one and dragging his knuckles over your cheek slowly. “Because these last few weeks have been … the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” Yeah, me too. “I hate seeing you so upset though. I’ve been… trying to make you smile.”

“Yeah, well.” You rolled your eyes upward. “I’m horrible at hiding what I’m feeling, so get used to it.” He didn’t have a reply to that right away, Din keeping his eyes on your face. And the silence was charged - you could feel it. The two of you were at a tipping point; your irritation and sadness at odds with his cool and collected demeanor, Din’s posture loose as you stood in your living room, barely any space between you.

It would have been easy to lean in and kiss him then - to give yourselves the moment you were so familiar with from TV and movies; emotions winning out, the physical pull toward each other too much to keep at bay any longer.

You had condoms in your bedroom - an almost full box that had been purchased only a few months prior. Even though you didn’t want the first time you and Din got physical to be the result of an almost-argument, you could feel that neither of you would stop things once they got started. Should I? I shouldn’t. This is -

“Not like this.” He murmured the words, groaning. “Every single thing you’ve said tonight is what I want to hear, but …” He swore under his breath - the words a mixture of English and Mando’a, straightening his fingers against the side of your face and cupping your cheek with his palm. “We are supposed to hide our emotions. And I’m pretty damn good at it, but with you, it’s… muun. It’s hard.”

“I’m sorry.” You had your hand on his hip, fingers tightening as you spoke. “Din, I didn’t mean to -”

“I’m not.” He tilted his head then, taking a deep breath. “And you shouldn’t be either.” His mouth glanced off of your cheek, his mustache tickling your skin. “But we’d both be sorry if we let them get the best of us right now.”

“That’s a nice way to say you don’t want to -”

“Stop it.” He nearly growled the words, his grip on your hand tightening further. “You think it’s hard now? If we … You deserve better.” There was finality in his voice, and even though you were thankful for it, you were surprised.

You weren’t used to men being the ones to shut down the progression of a physical relationship, but Din was - yet again - exceeding your expectations in every way. “So do you.” Wetting your lips, you lowered your head, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “We should finish dinner. Otherwise we’re just going to keep going around in circles, and … that won’t help anything.”

“It won’t.” He let go of your hand and then moved both of his to your arms, his thick fingers wrapping around your biceps. “I wish it wasn’t like this. You have no idea how much I wish you and I could… do this normally.”

“That’s my luck.” You looked up at him, trying to smile - and succeeding, at least partially. “I’m just being dramatic, Din. It’ll be fine.” He didn’t look like he believed you, but he nodded nonetheless, flexing his fingers before he let go. “Am I allowed to ask you what Boba said about the picture? And how should I refer to him? I don’t want to be disrespectful,and I know that I probably won’t ever meet him, but …”

“You can call him Boba when you and I talk about him.” The two of you settled back onto the couch, picking up your containers again. “And in public, I refer to him as Lord Fett, which is acceptable. You, as someone not from Mandalore, could call him either that or just Lord Mandalore. He isn’t very picky about it, but he keeps up with tradition when it comes to Mandalorian culture.” I’ll remember that. “And he was just … surprised. Especially since for the majority of the time I’ve been out here, I haven’t been interested in anyone like that.”

“I find it hard to believe that you haven’t found anyone out here, Din.” Chewing thoughtfully, you waved your fork in his direction. “Eight months, and there was no one?”

“I had drinks with a few people, but I never considered them dates.” He took another bite, glancing over at Grogu before he locked eyes with you. “I was just trying to enjoy my time here, and my last months of freedom, so dating never … I couldn’t run the risk of getting close to someone and then having to tell them about Mandalore and the fact that I had to leave.” But you told me.

“But there are people that get married in less than a year, Din. So if you’d met someone right when you got here, it wouldn’t be out of the question for you to tell them and then invite them back with you to keep the relationship going, right? Or is that not allowed? Does Mandalorian tradition require you - as someone on the throne - to marry within your -”

“No.” He set his food container down, dropping the fork into it. “We can marry whoever we want. Most people do choose to marry other Mandalorians, including people in positions of power, but there’s no laws that that has to happen. And …” He sighed. “There are political marriages, just like anywhere else. But they aren’t as common as you’d think, because the number of…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You don’t want to listen to this.”

“I do.” Reaching forward, you settled your hand on his knee. “Tell me, Din. I asked, and I wasn’t just doing it to be nice.” He was quiet for a few seconds and then shifted on the couch, leaning back and getting comfortable before turning his head to look at you.

“There aren’t a lot of noble families left in Mandalore, but there are a few, and everyone’s always looking to increase their influence, you know?” You nodded, though you stayed quiet. “It’s not like Game of Thrones where everyone’s trying to overthrow the Mand’alor and restructure the way the country’s run, but there are … families that we have to look out for, families that feel that the highest positons should be one determined by birthright.”

“That makes sense.” You finished your dinner, too, mirroring his position as you leaned back. “But you said Boba isn’t married? So he avoided all of that?’

“He did. And I plan on doing the same, unless … unless I find someone that I want to marry - that can handle the requirements of my title and the demands of this kind of life on Mandalore.” He looked away, his eyes lingering on Grogu. “There’s not separate terms in Mandalorian for husband and wife - a partner is just called a riduur, and a wedding is a riduurok, and there hasn’t been one of those for the Mand’alor since before I was born. So I’m sure the people would love to see it, but …” Din sniffed. “It’s not something I need. I can be a good leader without a wife.”

“I’m sure you can.” Tracing over your lower lip with the tip of your thumb, you nodded. “And you don’t seem like the type that would settle for a political arrangement, Din. So I… I hope that never happens to you.”

It wasn’t what you wanted to say. The idea of Din marrying anyone was enough to make your stomach twist uncomfortably in your belly, but there was no way you were going to tell him that. That’s too much. Even if we’re being honest with each other, that’s too much honesty. “There anything else you want to know?”

“Yeah, a ton of things.” You laughed, running a hand over your hair as you exhaled. “But I think that’s enough for tonight.”

“If you say so. I meant it the other night, though. You can ask me anything, and as long as I can tell you, I will. I won’t lie to you, but there are some things - “

“I get it.” Holding up a hand to stop him, you nodded. “No explanation necessary.”

“Thank you for understanding. This is the Way. I wish … I wish it wasn’t, but …” He trailed off, and for a few seconds, the room was almost completely quiet. You didn’t know how to fill the silence, and when Din spoke up again, you were thankful. “So, what’s the rest of this week look like? I know the scavenger hunt is the 23rd, but is there anything on Christmas Eve?”

“No. The 23rd is the last day of events, and the winners are announced that night at the Winter Carnival. We have from 11 am until 4 pm to complete the clues and turn everything in, and then while they tally up the points, we have time to go home and relax and get changed and all that before the carnival kicks off.”

“So we’ll know who wins as soon as they announce the winner of the hunt, right?”

“Yes and no. They don’t always announce the rankings for the scavenger hunt before they announce the overall winner, because usually the winner of the hunt wins the contest, and that’s anticlimactic.” He grinned. “So they’ll probably tell us who won overall and then release the points for the different clues and the scoring for the day. We’ll know how many points we get, but it won’t be until we already know the outcome.”

“And the carnival is only for that night?” You gave him a nod, staring at him where he sat on the couch next to you. “Is it a real carnival?”

“No rides, but yes. There’s food and games and sleigh rides. There might be a band, depending on if they can find someone to play and what the weather’s like. It’s usually from 7 to midnight, but I don’t think I’ve stayed past ten in five years. They announce the winners between 8 and 8:30, so there’s not much reason to stay really late.”

“Maybe we can have lunch together for the rest of the week.” Din sat straight up, blinking slowly. “We can come up with a list of possible clue answers, and -” Shit. He doesn’t know.

“I’m… I’m actually not going to be there all week. Tomorrow’s my last day for the year, because I saved vacation time to take.” His face fell, eyes clouding over briefly. “I’ve gotta finish my last minute shopping, Din. I do this every year.”

“Well, then we’ll have to get a lot done tomorrow.” He winked at you, the smile returning. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Is it alright? With the picture, I didn’t want to push it, and -”

“Yeah. It’s fine. We’re partners, so of course we’d have lunch together. I’m not worried about it.” He sighed. “I will not be kissing you in the cafeteria at work, though.”

“I think I’ll cope.” Wrinkling your nose, you held back a laugh. “It’ll be hard, but…” He leaned forward and wound his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest, Din laughing, too. It’ll be hard, but it it’ll be worth it.

—

You finished your Christmas shopping on December 22, right around the time you would have gotten off of work. The weather had held out - though there’d been snow overnight on Tuesday and Wednesday, it stopped in time to let you get things done, and you were thankful.

Your final stop was a trip out to Peli Motto’s shop for a basket of assorted goodies for Grogu - more of the frogs that he’d had at the tree lighting along with something called a Bantha bone, a bag of dried meat treats, and toy that the woman assured you was chew-proof: a shiny silver ball with a ridge around the center to dispense treats that you loaded into the core via a dark blue circular opening.

The woman threw in a small bag of freeze-dried shrimp that she’d promised he would love - “Bright eyes is gonna love these. I can tell. I know these things. He won’t want to stop eating them.Trust me on this and make sure that man who owns him brings him to see me next time.”

Grogu’s present had been simple - but Din’s? That was a struggle.

You hadn’t wanted to get him anything big that he wouldn’t be able to take back with him. You didn’t want to spend too much on him, since you didn’t want to seem like you were trying too hard, though you wanted to let him know that you were thinking of him.

And so you’d put together a stocking for him, including a few practical things that had been the norm for you growing up - a new toothbrush, a pair of thick socks, complete with strands of Christmas lights on them, a tin of mints - along with a few other items like a gift card for the coffee place downtown, a replacement tube of the styling product you’d seen in his bathroom, a bag of assorted beef jerky … and the one thing you were still uncertain about.

As you finished wrapping your presents later that night, you paused with his actual gift in your hands, staring down at it. It was more sentimental than you’d intended, but it was a good gift, and one that you knew he’d understand the significance of.

You planned on giving him his and Grogu’s gifts the following night after the carnival, and telling him that he could open his then or wait until Christmas morning - but there was no part of you that assumed you’d see him on the actual holiday. Even though I want to ask him what he’s doing. If he’s going to be alone, I can … I can make it so that doesn’t happen. “Shit.” You set the gift down, covering your face with both hands. “He’ll say no.”

Doing Christmas activities together was one thing, but actually spending the holiday together was another. Not only would it raise questions with your family so soon after your breakup, but it would mean needing to be careful with what you and Din said throughout the day… and that was something you were unsure you were ready for.

So giving a gift - even one that was arguably heartfelt - was something that you could do, and you hoped that no matter where he was or who he was with, he’d take it with him so that he could remember his time in Mistletoe.

You wrapped it in glittering silver paper, creasing the edges around the small box and carefully taping them shut before you tucked it into the stocking with everything else and carried both up to the kitchen table, setting them aside from the other wrapped gifts under the tree.

Glancing at the clock, you groaned when you saw how late it was - and that you’d be rushing to finish getting ready in time to meet your friends unless you immediately got into the shower.

Sending a quick text to Cara and Stacy, you eyed the stocking with Din’s name on it for a few more seconds while you waited for a reply, one finger idly running over the soft white fur of the trim.

Getting ready to shower. Still meeting at 7:30?

It would be the last time you saw them before the holiday, and the three of you were meeting to exchange gifts over dinner - and to gossip about everything that had happened since the last time you’d seen each other.

Yep. There’s a pitcher of margaritas with my name on it.

Laughing, you set your phone down and turned toward the bathroom, some of the unease leaving you. You needed the distraction - and even a few hours out with friends would help immensely.

—

“Can you believe it? She’s on her third job in the last two months. I don’t think she knows what she wants to do.” Cara held her drink in one hand, gesturing with the other. “I want to be supportive, but it’s really hard when I can’t even keep up with what she’s doing.”

The three of you had finished dinner and exchanged gifts before switching over to the drinking portion of the night, and as always, Cara’s stories were full of updates from her life away from Mistletoe and the people she interacted with on a daily basis.

You didn’t mind, because the more she talked, the less you had to, but you knew that it would eventually come back to you - and what you’d been doing with Din for the last few weeks. “So are you ready for the scavenger hunt tomorrow?” Stacy leaned in. “I can’t believe the competition’s almost over.”

“Yeah, neither can I. And yes, I think I am. Din and I met for lunch on Tuesday before I left work for the year and made a list of a bunch of the popular places in town that have been clues in the past, and -”

“Wait, so you haven’t talked to him since Tuesday?” Cara set her drink down, laying her palms flat on the table. “I’m shocked.”

“Why?” You dipped a chip into the table’s salsa - the fourth refill that the three of you had requested - and popped it into your mouth. “It’s not like we’re dating. We don’t need to talk every single day.” It was the truth - you hadn’t actually spoken to Din since Tuesday but you had texted back and forth. “I’m going to call him when I leave here tonight though, we have to figure out where we’re meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Because you two were getting close.” She leaned in. “I mean the two of you kissed, and -”

“Yeah, about that.” You drummed your fingers against the tabletop. I’m going to have to do this sooner or later, so why not now. “I found out why he put a stop to that the other night.” Both of your friends widened their eyes and waited, neither of them speaking to interrupt you. “He doesn’t want to get involved with anyone while he’s here because he isn’t staying. He’s going to have to go home in a couple months for work - not what he does here but what he did there before he took this time off.”

It rolled off of your tongue smoothly, and you were proud that it wasn’t quite a lie, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. “What did he do over there? His friend’s the King’s bodyguard, does Din -”

“No. He doesn’t work for the King or anything like that.” You waved her off, eating another chip. “But he basically arranged to take a year or so off to be able to travel, and that year’s going to end.” Lifting your glass, you sipped your drink. “So it’s easier not to get involved when keeping something going is … next to impossible.”

“But you like each other.” Cara shook her head. “We can all see it.”

“We do.” Shrugging, you looked away for a few seconds and then met her eyes again. “But we’re both being realistic.”

“So after tomorrow, you’re just going to stop seeing each other? Just go back to whatever your friendship was before this competition? You’re going to skip out on -”

“Cara.” The woman was getting annoyed, her eyes flashing as she whipped her head from side to side. “No. But we were both very clear about what this is and what it can and can’t be. So … we’re going to be friends. And whatever happens with that happens, but I’m not under the impression that he’s staying around long term, and we both … we’re both alright with that.” Or at least that’s what we’re telling ourselves.

“Bullshit.” You had to admit that she was right - and it sounded incredibly false coming out of your mouth, but as long as you stuck to what you were saying, you thought you’d be alright. “God, that’s unfair.”

“It is what it is.” Finishing your drink, you leaned back. “And like I told him, it might be better right now to know that there’s nothing long term on the table. This is easy, This is … what I need.” You wondered if you’d ever convince yourself that it was the truth, or if it would just be words coming out of your mouth, the same thing repeated long after Din had left for Mandalore. “It’s good, guys. We’re having fun together. We talked everything over on Saturday night and Sunday morning after the snowman c-”

“Sunday…morning?” Stacy raised an eyebrow. Shit. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

“No. Well, yeah. I spent the night, but nothing happened. I went over to decorate the tree with him, and by the time we were done it was snowing really hard, and he offered me his spare room.” They didn’t need to know that you hadn’t used the bed, or that that night and morning had been a definite shift in your feelings for the man, despite everything you’d learned. “And I woke up the next morning, the streets were plowed, and after he shoveled his driveway, I went home.”

“I don’t know how you slept in the same house as him and didn’t try to jump his bones.” Stacy groaned. “I know I’m married, but he’s … he’s really good looking, and -”

“I know.” You glanced down at your phone, checking the time. “Believe me, it was hard, but all we did was sleep.” Cara muttered something under her breath that you didn’t catch, Stacy rubbing at her forehead while she stared at you. “You guys, I promise you. This is fine. I know where he stands, he knows where I stand, and this is just … fun. It’s two people getting to know each other without expectations.” But no expectations doesn’t mean there’s no feelings.

“If you say so.” Cara tipped her head back finishing the last of her drink. “But you know we’ll always be here, right? If you ever want to talk, or ever want to tell us what he’s like in bed, or -”

“Believe me, if it ever comes to that, you’d be the first two people I talked to.” Winking at them, you started to gather your things. “I really do need to get going, though. I want to get to sleep early so that I’m not slow tomorrow.”

All three of you stood, tossing money onto the table for a tip after you’d packed your presents up, Cara leading the way out of the restaurant and into the parking lot. She held the door open for a couple walking in as you exited, the red-haired woman giving you a nod and her dark haired companion thanking your friend as you passed them and stepped out into the parking lot - and the softly falling snow.

A few steps into the parking lot, you paused, glancing back over your shoulder. I know her from somewhere. But they were already inside, the door shut behind them, and so you let out a breath, following your friends until you reached your cars.

Once you’d said goodbye and exchanged one more round of “Merry Christmas” between you, you were seated in your car and waiting for it to warm up. You used that time to message Din, a smile on your lips as your fingers flew over the keys.

Heading home from dinner now. Going to get to bed early. Want to meet at my place at 10 tomorrow?

It didn’t take him long to answer, the reply short and simple.

Sounds good. I’ll bring the coffee

As you typed out a reply, another message from Din came through.

I hope you had a good night with your friends. You’ll have to tell me what you got tomorrow morning.

In a perfect world, you would have sent back another message - telling him that you were on your way over and you could tell him that night. You would have asked if you could bring anything, or requested that he light a fire and pick a movie before you got there.

But instead, when you pulled into your driveway - and then into your garage, closing the door behind you before you stepped into the silent, dark house, you finally replied, closing your eyes to stop the tears from spilling over once the text had sent.

Yeah. Just remind me tomorrow when we see each other. Goodnight, Din.

—

maela = go on

muun = hard

spouse = riduur

ridurrok = love bond (marriage)

---

Tag list reblog coming soon!

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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

Text

Competing For Christmas Interlude: Under My Tree (Din’s POV)

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,114

Rating: M. Language.

Summary: Din doesn’t know exactly how to move forward - but it seems like you’re going to meet him every step of the way.

Author’s notes:

Figured it was finally time to see things from Din’s point of view ... and there was no better time to go there.

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open!

Thank you for reading - and for giving me some leeway with being behind on chapters. I’m working on 6 now, so it should be out soon, though this story won’t be finished on Christmas, when I intended. I apologize for that.

Masterlist / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5.1 / Part 5.2

He woke up before you did the next morning to the sound of the plow going by, Din’s eyes cracking open when it was barely light out. The fire was only embers, but Din was plenty warm, even under the thin blanket you’d draped over the two of you as you laid down. Because she’s still right here.

One of his arms was folded beneath his body, the other draped loosely over you, and he flexed that one, hoping that it wouldn’t jostle you awake. You’d both shifted in your sleep, you rolling over to face him, legs bent and tangled together. When he went to straighten one of his, he heard a quiet huff, his foot making contact with something even warmer than you - and furry. Grogu?

Raising his head just enough to peek, Din saw the curled up form of the dog at the opposite end of the couch, Grogu’s eyes open and staring at the sudden interruption of his sleep. Sorry, pal. Carefully moving his foot into a more comfortable position, Din looked down at you before settling back against the pillow, fighting the urge to lean down and kiss your cheek or temple.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to - in fact, Din wanted nothing more, but after what you’d talked about the previous night, he knew it wasn’t a good idea.

He hadn’t meant to tell you everything.

In fact, Din hadn’t even known what was going to come out of his mouth when he’d started talking as you decorated. But you’d taken it all in stride, though he hadn’t missed the look of anguish in your eyes as he’d confirmed that he was expected to go back to Mandalore and rule, leaving his life in Mistletoe - and you - behind only a few months later.

He couldn’t blame you for it. He’d let his feelings for you grow too quickly, and that fact had made telling you the truth much more difficult, even though you’d deserved to know. Especially if … if she really feels something for me. He didn’t doubt your affection, and the reaction you’d had to learning his secret had been genuine. He was also certain of you really hadn’t known anything more than what your friends had figured out that morning. And that means she liked me and not … what I am.

It made everything harder, and as Din settled back down next to you, he closed his eyes, tilting his head forward and listening to the sound of your breathing.

It was slow and deep, your lips parted slightly, and he risked opening his eyes again to get another glimpse of you. Because this might not happen again.

It would have been easy to wake you up then, to whisper your name and wait until your eyes opened to say anything else, to offer you breakfast and the opportunity to see how the roads looked. But I don’t want to. It’s too early.

You’d accepted his story without hesitation, seeming to understand that even if he didn’t want it, he had a duty to Boba and to his country, and he wouldn’t abandon it. He wondered why you were taking the situation with him the way you were when you’d explained how upset you’d been with James. That man had been unable to commit to anything past the present, much the same way Din couldn’t give you anything but the promise of a few more months of his presence in Mistletoe. Maybe it’s because we aren’t actually together. Or because I didn’t lead her on.

Whatever the answer, he was grateful that you’d listened to him, and even more pleased that he’d gotten the chance to wake up next to you at least once - even if all that had happened prior was actual sleep.

Din wouldn’t be selfish and sacrifice Mandalore’s needs for his own long term, but he knew that a few more hours on his couch with you wouldn’t do any real harm. So he closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath… and willed himself to go back to sleep.

—

The next time he woke up, it was because Grogu was whining. He’d left the couch and was standing next to the door, tail moving back and forth. You were up too, shifting in front of him as you yawned.

“You gotta go outside, buddy?” You pulled yourself out of his arms to stand, and Din watched as you moved across the room, opening the door enough to let the dog through. “Damn, there’s a lot of snow out there.” You stood in front of the glass for a few seconds before you turned back to face him, mouth set into a thin line. “I wonder if they plowed yet.”

“Heard one go by earlier.” He yawned, too, covering his mouth - but he didn’t sit up. “So they’ve been through at least once.” Din finally stretched as you stopped next to the tree, reaching up to touch a branch instead of returning to the couch. “Come back and lay down, it’s still early.”

“It’s 9:30, Din.” You almost smiled at that, raising a brow. “That’s not early.”

“It is for a Sunday.” He patted the open space next to him - still warm from where you’d lain. “Just a couple minutes. Until we need to let Grogu in.” If you said no again, he wouldn’t have pushed, but you didn’t, stepping back toward him and then sinking down onto the cushions, Din lifting the blanket to encourage you back underneath it with him. “See, that’s better.”

“It is. You’re warm.” Sighing, you cuddled up to him, pressing a hand to his chest. “I don’t think I’ve slept that well in … months.” Good. I’m glad to hear that.

“Me either. It was nice to have you here.” Both of you were silent then, Din looking down and watching as you stared at your hand, one finger dragging slowly back and forth over his chest. “I hope it doesn’t seem like I’m sending you mixed signals.” It came out before he could stop himself, and at your rapid movement - head jerking up so that you could look at him, he winced. “I didn’t mean to lead with that, I just …”

Cautiously, he settled a hand on your hip while he waited to hear your reply. “What do you mean by mixed signals?”

“I mean…” He sighed. “You know I have to leave. I don’t want either of us to …” Din wet his lips, closing his eyes. “Get too far ahead of ourselves.”

“What, you mean like sleeping together on the same couch?” Eyeing him, you pursed your lips and paused. “Or like making out in your kitchen or mine? Or - “

“Yeah, like all of those things.” He laughed then, hauling you closer, and you let him, the two of you laughing together until you cleared your throat and flattened your hand again. Keep going. “It’s not fair to either of us, and I’m not an asshole, even though I’m sure there are a few people that would call me one.” He had no idea where he was going with what he was saying, so Din was thankful when you jumped in - like you had so many times since he’d met you - and spoke up.

“So what does this mean, Din? No more mixed signals, like … no more touching? No more kissing? No more hanging out outside of the competition? Both of us ignoring whatever this is between us and pretending like last night didn’t happen and you didn’t tell me anything? Because if that’s the case, then …” You tapped on his chest again. “We probably shouldn’t be under this blanket together.”

“You just …” Dank farrik, she went right for it. “You just got out of a relationship that you ended because you wanted something more permanent. I don’t want you to feel like you’re wasting your time with me.”

“Din.” You lifted your hand, running your fingertips along the edge of his jaw. “You just said it. I just got out of a relationship. Maybe … maybe knowing something isn’t meant to be long term is a good change for right now.” You chewed on your lower lip in thought and then spoke again. “Maybe it’s what I need. Or, what we both need. You can’t exactly just casually start seeing someone when you’re back in Mandalore, so…”

“Are you…” He blinked, struggling to catch up. “Are you saying that you want that? That you’d go into more of this with me knowing that it has to be casual?”

“It’s not what I want, no. But if I’ve only got you for a few more months, I don’t want to deprive myself of any time with you.” You shrugged, the motion of your shoulders moving the blanket with them. “Like you said last night, we’re both adults. If that’s what we want to do, why shouldn’t we?”

It was more than he’d expected to hear from you - more than he could have ever hoped for - and he didn’t know how to answer. He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell you yes, that that would be fine with him, that he would spend the remaining few months exploring what he had with you before he had to leave. But instead, he said something much different.

“We should set some ground rules.” You recoiled slightly, but moments later, nodded, closing your eyes.

“Can we set those over breakfast? I’m really hungry, and I know there’s pizza left.”

“How about actual breakfast? He sighed. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff - cereal, eggs, pancake mix… I think there might be some bacon in the fridge, too.” Your eyes lit up at the mention of other food, and when you nodded in reply, moving to sit up, Din was relieved - but didn’t let you go.

“What?” You stopped moving in his arms, waiting.

“Can I kiss you good morning?” It took you by surprise, but you only bit your lip in response, tilting your head.

“Is that going to be something that’s prohibited by one of these rules, Din?” Your lips curved up into a smirk, and though he’d worried you would deny him, he could tell by the look in your eyes that you had no desire to. “Because if so, sure. Gotta get at least one of those down before you crush my dreams and -”

That was as far as he let you get, closing the distance between you until he could press his mouth to yours. Your lips were soft and warm, the smile still on them even as he leaned in, urging you onto your back and settling his weight partially on top of you,

The couch was larger than normal - and it was much more comfortable, too, the two of you sinking into the plush cushions as you slid the hand that had been on his chest around to his back, the pressure between his shoulder blades growing as you urged him to stay close.

He appreciated the fact that you hadn’t been shy about the fact that neither of you had brushed your teeth before falling asleep the night before and tried to deter him because of your morning breath. And the truth was that Din didn’t mind - if you were allowing it, he was going to take any and every opportunity to kiss you.

But he didn’t try to deepen it, and when you did, he pulled away, wrinkling his nose and dragging his teeth along your lower lip. “None of that. You said you were hungry.” You groaned, your hand falling away. Even though he didn’t want to, Din pushed with one arm, lifting himself backwards and giving you an out. “I’m going to let Grogu in, if you need the bathroom, you know where it is down here, but if you just want to head to the kitchen, you can do that, too.”

Blinking up at him, you waited a few seconds to move, gracefully rolling forward and then standing, raising your arms above your head as you stretched. He watched as you reached behind yourself to scratch the center of your back, but without a word, you turned and headed for the steps, diverting into the bathroom before climbing them.

Once you were out of sight, he scrubbed both hands over his face and groaned quietly. “What the fuck are you doing, Djarin?” He was playing with fire - but a large part of him didn’t care. I came here to live my life while I could, and that’s what this is.

He stood, too, heading for the door and opening it. Din whistled and then watched as Grogu streaked through the snow, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Skittering to a stop just before he barreled through the door, the dog shook himself, removing the snow that had collected on his fur, and then stepped inside, looking up expectantly at Din.

“Yeah, I know you’re hungry. C’mon, pal. Let’s get you fed.” It took no time for Din to refill his water and food dishes, but since you were still in the bathroom and he didn’t know what you wanted to eat, he went back into the downstairs area while Grogu ate, opening the gates of the fireplace and kneeling in front of it.

It felt cozier in the house with the fire going, and so he worked to get one burning, the tiny flames catching quickly thanks to the kindling he kept handy. “Offering me breakfast and building me a fire? What’s it called if you kidnap a king? I think I need to keep you here.”

“I’m not the king yet. And trust me, you wouldn’t be kidnapping anyone.” You laughed, the sound filling the room, and when Din stood and turned to face you, he saw what had taken you so long - you’d washed your face and attempted to fix your hair, though you were still wearing your pajamas. “Your clothes from last night should be dry, do you want them?’

“Nah, not yet.” He heard your stomach rumble before he could say anything else, and you rolled your eyes as you turned toward the steps, Din following close behind you as you passed Grogu and opened the refrigerator. “Want me to make you an -”

“Can I cook for you?” He paused. “I mean, you can tell me what you do and don’t eat, but -”

“Yes.” One hand on the fridge handle, you looked at him over your shoulder. “Yeah, you can. Also, I think my phone died overnight, can I plug it in somewhere while you start?” He pointed to the counter and a spare charging cable, and when you stepped away and toward your bag, he moved into position, pulling ingredients from the refrigerator and cupboards and setting them on the counter.

He didn’t plan on making anything fancy - just a hearty breakfast since it had been a while since you’d eaten - but as he looked over what he had available, he decided to try and impress you - just a little. You brushed past him to plug the phone in, and then moved over to the other cupboards and pulled out plates and two coffee mugs. Without even asking, you set a pot to brew.

Neither of you spoke much, though you did make it a point to bend over and scratch Grogu between the ears after the pot had started doing its job, but the silence didn’t bother Din because it was comfortable.

Like he’d been the first one in your place since your breakup, you were the first woman in his house since he’d moved in, at least in the way that mattered. He’d had a coworker over a few times to work on difficult jobs after hours, and the man had been dropped off and picked up by his girlfriend since they shared a vehicle - but in Din’s mind, that didn’t count.

It had been a lonely 8 months, but it had given him a lot of time to consider everything that he needed to expect from the rest of his life, and Din wouldn’t have traded the time for anything. Well, except maybe more of this sooner.

Covering the sizzling pan and turning the heat down, Din turned away from the stove to find you sitting at the table and watching him, your chin resting on one hand. “What? What’s that look for?”

“I’m just trying to remember the last time someone cooked me breakfast outside of a restaurant.” Tapping your finger against your lips, you grinned. “It’s been a while.”

“James wasn’t a breakfast guy?” He crossed his arms, leaning back against the sink. “Or just not a cook?”

“He could cook, and he was actually pretty decent with the grill, but breakfast …” You hummed, closing your eyes. “I love breakfast, but we’d usually just grab something quick - cereal or eggs or toast. It wasn’t an actual meal unless we were out somewhere.” Oh, that asshole.

“Well, I don’t know how much we’ll be having breakfast together, but I have no problem making it for you.” Your eyes lit up, grin widening. “And it doesn’t even have to be morning, either.”

“Oh, perfect. Breakfast for dinner.” The coffee pot finished then and you stood, moving back toward it. “Coffee, Din?” He told you yes and then watched out of the corner of his eye as you rummaged through the cabinets for sugar, setting it down before you went back to the fridge and grabbed one of the creamer containers. “I know what you ordered the other day, but I’m not even going to try to -”

“Just a little of the flavor. No sugar.” He nodded. “It’ll be fine.”

You poured the coffee as he started plating the food, Grogu standing by his feet and whining. “You already had your breakfast, little guy. How are you still hungry?”

“I told you, he’s always hungry. You’d never know it looking at him, though, he’s still pretty small.” Nudging the dog away with one foot, Din carried the plates to the table and sat down just as you did, sliding one mug of across and toward him. “How’s it look?”

“Fucking amazing, Din. Smells great, too.”

It felt oddly domestic to him - sitting and eating with you in his kitchen after cooking a meal, and he hoped that you could do it more often, even if it wasn’t in the morning. “Well there’s plenty left, so eat as much as you want.” He watched you take your first bite, your eyes closing as you nearly moaned at the taste, eyes rolling back into your head. “Good?”

He barely managed the single word, his grip on his own fork tightening at the sound you’d just made. Damn, it’s going to be … “It’s great Din, this tastes like you spent hours cooking it.” He finally took a bite, too, trying to distract himself - but you kept talking. “Where’d you learn how to cook?”

“It was actually one of the things we did at school. Everyone had to learn. And I just kept going after I finished - got better over time. I cook a lot for Fennec, even though she could eat way better than my cooking, because she lives in the palace.”

“Boba’s palace.” You swallowed, sipping your coffee. “And soon to be yours. I bet that kitchen’s amazing. I hope you have time to cook after you’re k… Mand’alor.” He appreciated the fact that you corrected yourself. The terms were somewhat interchangeable, but it was a sign of respect to use the Mandalorian language, especially as an outsider. “Are you going to be able to take Grogu back with you?”

“Yes. He’s family.” Din took a long swig of coffee. “Boba and Fennec can’t wait to meet him.” He glanced down, eyeing the dog as he laid next to the table on his side, legs stretched out. “Not very regal, but…” You snorted, looking down too.

“He’ll learn. Get him a friend or something to teach him the ropes.”

“He’s one of a kind.” Din sighed. “And, to be honest, I don’t think I could handle two of him right now, so once I’m … busier, it’ll be even less possible.”

“You’d figure it out.” Chewing, you narrowed your eyes at him. “So, Din… what are these ground rules you wanted to establish?” He nearly choked on what he had in his mouth, coughing as he leaned forward, bringing a closed fist up to stifle the sound. “Or just go ahead and choke on that instead of - “

“Gimmie a second.” He coughed again, shaking his head. “You really just jump right in, don’t you.”

“I do. I want to know what to expect from situations, and … I really want to know what to expect from this one.” You got up then, walking over and pulling out a carton of juice and then another glass. “Want one?”

“Sure.” That one you poured for him with no pause, replacing the carton and then carrying both glasses to the table. “Thank you.”

“Yeah. Like I was saying, Din… I like knowing where things stand. And the sooner I know what you’re… what you want, the sooner I can figure out if it’s something I’m capable of giving you.” He almost couldn’t believe it - that you were being so straightforward with him, telling him what you needed to hear from him.

“Well… first of all.” He cleared his throat, coughing again. “First of all, it goes without saying that who I am and what I am has to stay secret. I’m not worried you’ll say anything, but I just wanted to be clear.”

“Of course.” You took another bite, brows knit together thoughtfully. “But I’m not sure who would actually believe me even if I did say anything, so…” You shrugged. “It’s kind of an unbelievable story, you know? Heir to the throne of Mandalore working as an IT guy for some tiny little company here in Mistletoe? It kind of sounds like one of those dumb movies we started to watch last night.”

He didn’t disagree. “Thank you.” Thinking for a few seconds, Din continued. “We should probably keep any sort of PDA to a minimum, too. I know I kriffed it up kissing you in that hallway, and then again last night, but …”

“Those were accidents. You got carried away.” Finishing your meal, you pushed your plate forward. “But that’s fine with me, too. I feel like most of the time we’ll be out somewhere in public, it would be at work, or -”

“No, I want to hang out with you.” He reached across the table, hand flat atop it. “That isn’t … we can do that, but once I do take the throne, if people start digging, they’ll find out I lived here for a while, and it could … it could come back on you if they find anything. And I won’t be here to deflect it.”

“Oh.” You glanced down, and Din hated to hear the hurt in your voice, but he needed to be honest. “That makes sense.”

“People knowing we’re friends is one thing, and that’s fine especially because we’re coworkers, but …” This is the shitty part. “In public, that’s all we can be.”

“People here will think something different. It’s a small town, and I’m sure some people are already talking about the fact that we’re partners. So it’s … that’s probably a good idea.” You met his eyes again. “What else?”

“If… if things were to get to…” He glanced up. This isn’t hard, you kriffing idiot. “If we ever sleep together for real, we need to use protection. Accidents happen, and that wouldn’t… I would hate myself if -”

“Got it. Sex is on the table, but we’ve gotta be safe about it.” He could tell that you were upset - not at his requirement, but at the fact that such a serious conversation between the two of you was even necessary in the first place. I’m not happy about it either, if it makes you feel any better. “Can’t have any little Dins running around.”

“No, that’s another thing. Like I said, on Mandalore, since the throne isn’t passed down to a blood heir every time, I don’t need to have kids. And to be honest with you, I …” He frowned. “There are perks. A lot of them, but I know how I feel about this whole thing, and I don’t want … I don’t want to … If I had a kid, they’d be expected to take my place, especially if it happened soon.”

“So instead you’ll just pick someone else - like Boba did.” He nodded. “So how do you make sure that the person you pick is going to want it?” Good question.

“Boba asked me because he knows I don’t want it, and he trusts me to act in the best interests of the country. I’ll… I’ll have plenty of time to find someone to replace me that’s the same. Maybe someone that isn’t as hesitant, but …” Din shrugged. “That’s what advisors are for.” You actually smiled at that, finishing your juice.

“Ok, so what else is there? You’ve covered PDA and safe sex and discretion. But after next week, Din, we won’t have any reason to see each other outside of work, and if we start spending the night at each other’s houses when there’s not a foot of snow outside, it… it’ll be a little hard to hide.”

“Yeah, it will.” He pushed the remnants of food around on his plate, frowning at it. “But we can figure it out, and -”

“So we’d be friends with benefits.” You stood, grabbing your plate and heading to the stove, continuing to talk as you got a second serving. “I don’t know if you’re familiar with the term, but here, it means people that casually date and do things together - including sleeping together - but that’s all it is. It’s not meant to be long term, but it’s a little more serious than just hooking up.”

You didn’t come back to the table, instead standing next to the stove and eating - plate in one hand, fork in the other. “Yeah, I … I haven’t heard that before, but … that’s…” It’s bullshit is what it is. It sounded almost ridiculous coming out of his mouth, and he knew it - meaning that you knew it, too, and yet you weren’t turning him down. You were agreeing, continuing to eat what he’d made for you and having a conversation that was no different than if you were discussing the weather. “Does this make things weird between us? Making rules for -”

“No. It’s a little formal, but it’s better to get this all out in the open now.” You rinsed your plate off. “I can’t say that I’ve ever set up an arrangement like this before, but it’s not everyday that the future ruler of a foreign country asks for some discretion because he wants to kiss me.” You sat back down across from him, laying both hands on the table. “I’ll be honest and say that this kind of sucks, Din, because like I said, I like you, and we don’t have a chance to see if this could be something more, but it is what it is.

“You can say no.” He reached out again, settling a hand over both of yours. “Call me a terrible person for even suggesting any of this, and I wouldn’t blame you.” I don’t want you to, but… “But I want to be honest with you. I want to see what this is, and see if … see if maybe it would be possible for it to turn into more later, and -”

“No, Din.” Shaking your head sadly, you squeezed your eyes shut. “You’ll be thousands of miles away, and while you’re learning how to lead, you won’t have time for distractions. Let’s just … let’s just do this now, and not … not worry about anything else. Don’t get our hopes up. It’s easier with an expiration date.” It wasn’t - and he thought you knew, it, too, but at the look on your face, he couldn’t do anything but agree - though he did it in his own way.

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We might not like each other much by the time we’re done with this competition, especially if we don’t win.” It took you a second but you laughed at his words, pulling your hands from beneath his and reaching for your coffee mug.

“You never know.” Taking a sip, you curled your upper lip and stared at him over the rim of the mug. “Din?” He hummed, frowning. “This is going to hurt when it has to end, you know that, right?” Again with the honesty.

“I do.” Rubbing at his forehead, he nodded. “But I think it would be worse if we just tried to ignore all of this.”

“Yeah.” Averting your eyes, you stared into your cup. “It would.” Grogu sighed from the floor, Din’s attention dropping to him - and giving himself a chance to think. It was almost cruel that you’d agreed to the arrangement with him, especially with so little time left.

He wished that he’d started speaking to you sooner after he’d found out that you were single. But I didn’t want to seem like I was taking advantage of an opportunity. He wished that he’d been able to keep his feelings and emotions hidden - something that he’d been so good at after a lifetime of growing up in Mandalore. But months in Mistletoe had changed him even though he’d kept to himself, and part of Din wondered if he’d be able to go back to his old self when it was necessary. But is it necessary?

Din didn’t know for sure, and as he looked back at you, catching you staring out the window over the sink, he realized that in that moment, it didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because I’m not there right now. I’m here… with her.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Din pushed to his feet, picking up his plate and the juice glass, turning toward the sink. “I’m going to need to clear the driveway before you leave. With both cars parked there, that cuts down on what needs to be shoveled, but it’s still going to take me some time.”

“I can help if you want.” You stood too, carrying the remainder of the dishes to the sink and setting them down, though you didn’t move from his side. “If you have two shovels, it’ll take even less time.”

“I don’t.” Turning to face you, he crossed one arm over his chest, gripping his shoulder. “But you could clean the cars off, or play with Grogu.” Your eyes lit up at the second suggestion, Grogu’s dog tags jungling as he sat up at the mention of his name. “He’s pretty good about staying in the yard.”

“That sounds like fun. I’ll keep these pants on though, that way I can change into my jeans before I go home.” Whatever you want to do. “I wish I had my hat. The hood won’t stay up on my jacket.”

“I have a couple. You can wear one of them as long as you don’t mind them not being just washed.” You said you didn’t, and so he headed up and into his bedroom a few minutes later, leaving you standing by the sink and rinsing dishes.

He used the bathroom and changed his pants quickly, pulling on a pair of thick socks and grabbing his spare beanie before heading back out into the hallway and then downstairs, tossing the fabric onto the table. “Dishes are rinsed and loaded, but I didn’t know what you wanted me to do with the pan you used. Some people are weird about -”

“Like I said, the house was furnished. They’re not mine.” Holding up a hand in understanding, you moved to load them into the dishwasher, closing it while he leaned against the table and watched you. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I don’t like leaving a mess in the kitchen.” Wiping your hands on a towel, you spun to face him. “Besides, you cooked, so it’s the least I could do.” He liked the way you had an answer almost immediately no matter what he said, and told you as much. “I say what I mean, Din. You’ll have to get used to it.”

“I definitely could.” You stepped over to the table, picking up the hat - dark gray with a faintly metallic sheen - and pulled it onto your head, tugging it into place. His eyes widened as he watched you, his attention locked on your form as you adjusted the hat. It looks better on her than it does on me.

“Well?” You held up a hand, cocking your head to one side. “How’s it look?”

“Good. I brought that one from home. I’ve had it for years, but I don’t wear it much here.” He saw the happiness in your eyes as he spoke, your smile growing with each word. “Maybe I should, though.”

“Want to switch?” Not a chance. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.” Taking a breath, you pointed at the front door. “Should we get out there? The sooner we start, the sooner I can head home and see how bad my own driveway looks.

“Do you need help clearing it? I can always bring over my -”

“No. The neighbor has a plow on the front of his truck. He usually does it for me before he goes out and does his contracted work, but I won’t know until I get there.” You were both putting on your boots and coats as you talked, you using one hand on the hallway wall for balance. “And if not, I’ll just park in the street and clear enough space to get my car into the garage until he can get to it later.”

“The offer stands.” He zipped up his coat, pulling his hat into place. “Grogu doesn’t need a leash, Just say “k’olar”, and he’ll listen.” He opened the door leading to the garage and Grogu bolted past the two of you and into it, yipping happily. “I’ll keep an eye on him, too.”

You thanked him, and as Din pressed the button to open the garage door, you both blinked slowly in the brightening light, the dog sitting on his haunches and waiting. “You should pull your truck forward. That’ll give you a place to start.” It was a good idea, and Din retreated into the house, grabbing his keys.

When he went back into the garage, he saw that you’d picked up a broom and were clearing his windshield off, careful not to step on and compact the snow in the driveway. He let you continue, stepping forward to keep an eye on Grogu - the dog zooming back and forth across the yard, and was surprised to hear his name a few seconds later.

“All done.” You had snow on the front of your jacket and pants - but a huge smile on your face. “I’ll go out there with him.” Setting the broom back in place against the wall, you moved around the front of the truck and carefully stepped toward the yard, hopping over undisturbed snow.

He watched you for a few seconds - smiling as you bent down and called for Grogu while you picked up a handful of snow and tossed it into the air. I’m glad they get along. Looking away, he unlocked the door of his truck and climbed in, starting the engine and letting it idle for a few seconds before pulling into the garage. “Fuck.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the steering wheel. “Fuck, this is a dumb plan.”

It wasn’t dumb because it was a bad plan, it was dumb because he knew how foolish it was to let yourselves have a few months of happiness before separating. But we agreed to it. We both …we both want something instead of nothing. And when he got out of the truck’s cab and tossed the keys onto one of the shelves in the garage, trading them for the shovel and stepping to the edge of the driveway, he returned his gaze to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You and Grogu were still playing, the dog running in circles around your legs as you gently kicked snow at him, his jaws snapping as he tried to catch the powder. He could have watched you all morning, but instead tore his gaze away and started to shovel, making quick work of the side he’d been parked on before beginning behind your car.

He checked in on you occasionally, making sure that you and Grogu were alright, but when he was almost done clearing the apron, he felt an impact against his left shoulder - and then, seconds later another. What the…

When he looked up, you were standing in the center of his yard with a snowball in each hand, Grogu rolling around on the ground next to you. “Did you just…” He trailed off as you reared back and lobbed another snowball at him, Din able to duck out of the way of that one. “You did.”

“I did.” Laughing, you bent down and quickly formed more snowballs. “This is perfect packing snow, Din.” He brushed the snow from his coat and turned his head to look at the remaining section of the driveway - likely only a few more passes of the shovel - and then let it drop to the ground instead, striding toward you and bending to scoop up some snow of his own.

“You asked for this.” Grinning, he stood and threw a snowball in your direction, Grogu quickly getting to his feet and barking happily. “Remember that.” But you didn’t reply, sending another snowball over - and that was all it took.

The two of you traded shots for the next ten minutes, snow flying through the air and both of you laughing as you danced through the drifts, Grogu underfoot as he ran back and forth between you. He didn’t concentrate as hard as he would have if he were actually aiming with something that wasn’t snow, but he still hit you quite a few times despite your attempts to duck and avoid the snowballs.

The hat you were wearing was covered in snow, clumps of it sticking to the cloth parts of your jacket and pants, and Din assumed that his outfit looked the same - but he didn’t care. I’m having fun. I’m … this is … He groaned as you hit him square in the back with a large snowball, Din shouting out your name as he spun back to face you, three leaving his hands in rapid succession. “Oh, now you’re gonna get it.”

He advanced toward you, Grogu leaping and trying to bite the snow he still held, but before he reached you, Din felt his boot sole catch on a slick spot, his arms flailing as he fell onto the ground. Ow. You took advantage, surging forward and scooping up more snow - but instead of forming it, you moved to stand next to him and then dropped it on his head, Din shutting his eyes at the last possible second as his skin was sprinkled with the cold powder. “Am I?” You laughed again, moving to step back - but he was too quick for you, a hand shooting out to take yours into his, tugging once and pulling you down so that you fell across his lap, both of you laughing as his arms went around you, urging you closer to his chest. “Alright, Din, you win.”

He held you close, watching as you turned your head up to look at him. This wasn’t a bad idea. This is … the best idea.

Pulling one gloved hand back, Din used a finger to wipe snow from your cheek, his eyes locked on the movement and the way your lips parted at the touch. “Do I?” A tiny nod was all you managed before Grogu jumped into the mix, placing his paws on Din’s leg and leaning in, licking the side of your face. “Grogu, daab. Get down!”

“No, it’s fine.” You laughed again, letting go of Din and wrapping your arms around the dog. ‘He just wants to play.”

“We should go back in. I’m soaked, and you have to be, too.” He hated to get up, but didn’t want either of you to get sick from the cold. “Come on. You can change and I’ll throw our wet clothes into the dryer for a couple minutes before you leave.”

He didn’t want you to go but knew that he couldn’t keep you all day. “Sounds good.” You pushed to your feet and brushed your pants off, staring down at him. “My hands are kind of cold anyway.”

Within a few minutes, the two of you were back inside the house, your outer layers removed. He brought your jeans and shirt from the previous night up from the dryer and handed them to you. “Be right back.” You nodded as he headed up the stairs, Din’s hand on the railing the entire way.

He changed quickly, just putting on a different pair of sweatpants and a dry hoodie before pulling on a new pair of socks. What a great morning. What a great … weekend. He was still smiling as he went back downstairs - but it disappeared when he saw you standing in the kitchen, phone in hand and a horrified look on your face.

“What’s wrong?” You didn’t respond right away, instead lifting one hand to cover your mouth, head whipping back and forth. Din said your name, reaching you in only a few steps. “What happened?”

“Look.” It was only one word - and whispered through your fingers, but Din’s eyes moved to the screen of your phone, his heart sinking at what he saw on it.

It was a picture of the two of you from the night before - his arm around you as he kissed you. Oh, that’s not … But as he continued to look at the screen, the pit in his stomach grew when he saw that not only was there one picture of the two of you there - the one with your snowmen in the background was posted, too… and both your names were listed beneath it. Ibic cuyir dush. This is really bad.

—

Ko’lar: come here:

Daab: down

Ibic cuyir dush: this is bad

Tag list reblog coming soon!

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