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Boba loved Din.
Really. He did.
But watching this was painful.
Boba had offered to take Grogu to and from school until Din could get the money for a new car after his last one had been totaled in a wreck a few days ago (he had offered to buy Din a new car, but Din had refused on some moral high ground about needing to provide for his son), and Din, being Din, had insisted on riding along.
It was the first day of school, so Boba could understand.
But this was...something.
He watched through the windshield of his own car as Din floundered through introductions with Grogu’s new teacher, tripping over nearly every word he said. The tips of his ears were flushed pink and he was still holding Grogu’s hand. It didn’t seem like he was going to let go anytime soon, and Din was doing his best to look at anything that wasn’t the teacher. The teacher himself was smiling brightly and didn’t seem at all distressed by Din’s lack of eye contact.
Boba supposed he could understand Din being so flustered, if he tilted his head just right.
The teacher was pretty in a sort of delicate kind of way. He was just a little shorter than Din was, with pretty sunny blond hair and bright blue eyes. The teacher’s smile was sweet and kind and showed off his dimples, and when he knelt down to say hi to Grogu Din looked like he was about to run away screaming.
So, yeah, Boba got it. Even if the teacher wasn’t quite his type.
He did look familiar, though. But Boba couldn’t place where or why.
“God—I wasn’t that bad with you, was I?”
Boba glanced back at Cobb, who was watching the whole thing with a grimace as he held his starbucks cup tightly in his hand. He took a sip, looked at Boba, then went back to watching the human disaster they called their friend.
Cobb didn’t need to come with them, and in fact Boba had done his best to herd him back into bed. Cobb, however, knew just how to sweet talk Boba into getting what he wanted, so not only did he manage to worm his way into the backseat of the car, but he convinced Boba to make a starbucks trip as well.
Grogu had been excited to hang out with Uncle Cobb, at least.
Boba hummed, tapped his finger against the steering wheel, debated with himself if he should honk the horn. “No, you were worse.”
Cobb gasped. “You take that back!”
Boba leaned over and kissed him instead.
When he pulled back and looked out the window, Din was looking at the two of them with something very similar to fear in his eyes.
--
Boba didn’t know why he had been so naïve to think that this would be a one and done kind of thing.
If anything it got worse because Grogu, apparently, loved his teacher.
Grogu spoke excitedly about him when Boba and Din went to pick him up later in the day, and Din was twisted around in the front seat so he could look at his son, hanging onto every word he said like it was some kind of sermon.
Boba didn’t want to tell Grogu to stop talking--the kid hardly spoke as it was, and discouraging him from talking was the last thing Boba wanted to do--but there was only so much he could take of listening to how cool Mr. Skywalker was.
So Boba pulled back into the starbucks drive through and ignored Din’s glare.
“You want a hot chocolate, kid?” he asked.
“Yeah!” Grogu’s answer was immediate.
Din smacking Boba’s arm came a second later, but Boba didn’t pay it any mind.
He thought knew the name Skywalker, but for the life of him he couldn’t place where he knew it from.
--
Din came barging into Boba’s apartment, still messy and greasy from work.
He did this a lot, actually, so Boba didn’t bother to look away from the television as the door was thrown open. No one else was stupid enough to waltz unannounced into Boba’s apartment besides Fennec.
“His name is Luke,” Din announced. He waltzed into the living room and stood in front of the couch, blocking Boba’s view of the television. “Luke Skywalker.”
Boba squinted as he looked at Din.
The name sounded really familiar.
“And?” Boba didn’t feel like dealing with it right now. It probably wasn’t important anyway. “What do you want me to do, run a background check?”
Din frowned, huffed, and walked out of the apartment.
Cobb, who had been happily lying on top of Boba, sat up and watched him leave. “The hell was that about?”
“Don’t know.” Boba pulled Cobb back down. “Don’t care.”
—
Din had a new van now. It wasn’t that different from his old one—just marginally less shitty and without that god awful clunking noise that Din had insisted was nothing.
He was also now, unfortunately, on his phone constantly.
And it wouldn’t be that odd, except for the fact that until he met Mr. Luke Skywalker and exchanged numbers with him (which Din had insisted was for school purposes while his face got redder and redder), the soonest Din would ever answer a text was a day later. Unless it was about Grogu, then Din was answering text messages as quickly as they came.
But now Din had his phone out all the time, looked at it every time it buzzed, and sometimes he even smiled at it.
Boba was a little alarmed.
--
The next few days all Boba heard from Din was did you know Luke liked this or Luke used to fly show planes or Grogu said this about Luke or Luke is really pretty or do you think Luke would like this?
If Din were not one of Boba’s only friends, he would have suffocated him with a pillow.
--
“So he’s got a thing for his kid’s teacher,” Cobb hummed. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Boba leveled Cobb with a blank look.
Cobb has recently gotten into baking. He wasn’t very good at it, and so Boba had taken to sitting in the kitchen with him to keep him supervised. The worst that had happened so far was a spilled bag of flour and a burnt cake, but Boba wouldn’t put it past him to actually set something on fire.
“Oh, let him have this,” Cobb was kneading bread dough. He wasn’t doing it very well, and most of the dough was still stuck to the counter. “Poor Din hasn’t had a crush in years.”
“That’s because he’s a grown man.” Boba said.
Cobb sighed dramatically. “Don’t you believe in true love?”
“This isn’t true love. This is Din acting like an idiot.” Boba frowned. “He’s actually texting me now.”
Cobb looked a little alarmed at that. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could Grogu came running into the kitchen, his little backpack swinging widely from one shoulder.
Boba just barely had enough time to reach down and scoop the kid up as he went to climb up into his lap. Grogu’s knees and elbows dug into Boba’s stomach and his backpack smacked Boba in the cheek.
“Hey kid,” Boba wheezed out.
Din’s kid suddenly appearing in Boba’s apartment happened so often that Boba had just stopped questioning it.
Grogu opened up his backpack and pulled out a piece of paper. He shoved it in Boba’s face. “I drew this for you.”
Boba blinked.
He couldn’t entirely tell what he was looking at, but Grogu had labeled the blob like figures he drew as Uncle Boba, Uncle Cobb, and Me.
“I love it.” Boba said honestly. “I’ll put it on the fridge immediately.”
Grogu beamed.
“Sorry—he got out of the car and just took off—“ Din appeared in the kitchen, a little out of breath. He stopped by the counter next to Cobb, leaning against it as he got his breath back. “—you should really lock your doors.”
“Why would I do that?” Boba asked.
“Why are you all dressed up?” Cobb asked at the same time.
Din blinked and looked down at himself.
He was wearing a nice grey dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up just past his elbows (Boba didn’t even know that Din owned a dress shirt), the nice skinny jeans that didn’t have any grease stains and dress shoes he only pulled out for important occasions, and he had even made an attempt to tame his hair into something presentable.
“I have a date.” Din said.
“You have a fucking date?” Cobb blurted out.
“With Mr. Skywalker!” Grogu chimed in.
Boba came very, very close to slamming his head on the table.
—
Grogu ended up staying the night with them because Din ended up staying the night with Luke.
Not that Boba really cared.
He loved Grogu, and Cobb was, unfortunately, right. Din deserved to have this. So they helped Grogu destroy the living room so he could build a blanket fort, and they ate popcorn and watched videos on Cobb’s phone until Grogu fell asleep.
The only downside was that now Boba actually needed to figure out why Luke Skywalker was so familiar to him.
Did he owe him money?
Well, Boba owed a lot of money.
He couldn’t remember the last time he willingly paid his taxes.
—
Boba met Luke a few days later.
It was entirely on accident.
Cobb had dragged Boba out for one of those silly date nights he always insisted on. Boba would never willingly admit it, but he did enjoy them.
The two of them had been about to walk into a new restaurant that Cobb wanted to try when Luke and Din suddenly appeared on the other side of the sidewalk, Grogu swinging between them and holding both of their hands.
Boba stopped, did a double take.
“Oh, it’s serious.” Cobb spotted them the same time that Boba did. “Bo, it’s serious—”
Boba had been about to shove Cobb into the doorway so Luke and Din could go on their merry way, but then Grogu spotted them. He let go of Din’s hand to tug on his sleeve, pointing to Boba and Cobb when Din looked down at him. Din frowned, looked up to where Grogu was pointing, and stared.
Luke looked confused for a moment, and when he followed Din’s line of sight, his eyes went wide.
So Boba definitely knew Luke, then.
He narrowed his eyes as they got closer, and when Grogu was slipping his hand out of Luke’s and running up to Cobb, Boba suddenly remembered the backwater bar, Han Solo, and Luke quietly sitting in a corner booth trying his hardest to ignore Boba and Han throwing each other across the bar counter.
“Your ex still alive?”
Luke blinked and Din groaned.
“Han? Yeah, he’s alive.” Luke blinked again, then offered up a tentative smile. “It’s...nice to meet you again?”
“Why?” Din asked flatly.
Boba frowned. “You don’t even know what I did.”
Din leveled Boba with a blank look.
“He dared me to.” Boba crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly feeling rather defensive. Well, Han’s exact words had been what are you gonna do, fight me? But Boba just couldn’t let that go. So he did exactly that, then dumped a barely conscious Han in the booth Luke was sitting at and left.
Din took in a deep breath, held it, then let it out. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Papa said a bad word!” Grogu, who was now nestled happily in Cobb’s arms, gasped rather dramatically. Cobb gasped with him.
“It was years ago,” Boba frowned. “And he was drunk.”
“Din, sweetheart, you’ve met Han.” Luke put a hand on Din’s shoulder. “You know he deserved it.”
Din sighed.
Boba decided that he liked Luke.
—
When Din called Boba down to the auto shop to come look at the ring he had picked out for Luke, Boba had reluctantly handed over a fifty dollar bill to Fennec a few weeks later.
He had bet that Luke would propose first.