Chapter Text
“ Jate vaar’tur, cyar’ika ,” Paz whispered, as he dropped back into bed. Din was slow to rouse these days, though a steaming cup of coffee directly under his nose seemed to do the trick. Paz wasn’t a fan of the stuff, but he’d do anything to make this day absolutely perfect.
“Good morning, cyare ,” Din muttered, sleepily as he sat up. Barely holding back a yawn, he carefully took the personalized mug that Lilo had gifted him the previous Christmas. It was printed with an adorable picture of his precious child, with his silver helmet swallowing his head. Speaking of the children, he asked, “Where’s Ad’ika ?”
Eighteen months he’d had that strange child in his custody. Just shy of a year ago, he’d appointed himself as to its father. He still didn’t have a name for it. Ad’ika had, for all intents and purposes, become a nickname of sorts.
“He’s with Stitch. I think they were going frog hunting or something,” Paz said, before adding around his energizing sip of tea. “Up with the sun, that one was.”
“You should have woken me,” Din said reproachfully, as they lounged in bed, neither making a move to get ready for the day ahead.
“Nonsense. It’s your gota’tuur . I got this,” Paz said, as Din began to groan. Of course, Paz would remember. He hadn’t said a word to anyone, for this exact reason. He had hoped it would pass by as just another day. I mean, sure, yeah. It was a special day in their household because it was the day Din and Ad’ika had crash-landed themselves into the Pelekai’s lives. It also just so happened to be Din’s birthday. “What’s the fuss, cyar’ika ? You’re another year older!”
“You don’t breathe a word of this to anyone,” Din said, shoving a finger directly between those baby blue eyes. “ Not a word . What time is it? Don’t you have to be at work?”
“It’s almost 10 ...,” Paz said before Din began to cuss. He drained his coffee as he hopped out of bed. He almost fell, his feet tangling in the sheets. It was pure instinct that kept him from kissing the floor as he tried to finish his coffee and strip out of his underwear in the exact same move. Paz took another deep sip of his tea, to hide his laugh before he spoke“I took the day off! I’m surprised you didn’t. I mean, this is a big one, isn't it?”
“Just because I survived another rotation around the sun, doesn’t mean I have to celebrate it!” Din yelled, his undershirt flying out the still-open door to the extremely tiny onboard shower. The best shower in their strange complex was attached to Jookiba and Pleakely’s place. Jumba had built it out of what remained of the Kaiseed ship. There wasn’t time to use it. Not if he wanted to eat, see who was up at the big house, try to find the child, and get to work on time.
~ ~ ~
Din had been working for the last eight or nine months, at a bar. Not just any old bar but a Western-themed bar. The place was called The Statesman. For some reason that Din had yet to fathom, they all had to have codenames. Which were drink based. He was Agent Whiskey. He ran the bar on Friday and Saturday nights.
The boss was an older gentleman with a cowboy hat seemingly surgically attached to his scalp. He was Champagne, though he just went by Champ. Tequila was an interesting fellow. He was the chef and occasional one-man DJ/Strip show. It was quite a show. One that Paz kept teasing Din to audition for. There was also Ginger Ale. She was Assistant Manager and had been longer than Champ had been the owner. She was a Jill of all trades. Din respected the Hell out of Ginger Ale (whose real name was Hallie). She seemed to like him for that because she had made a habit out of telling him how terrible the previous bartender had been. He’d been Agent Whiskey before Din, and he sounded like a real piece of work. The rest was a constantly evolving cast of characters who recycled names so often Din didn't bother to keep track.
The pay was good. Not nearly as good as his welding job had been, but that didn’t matter. Paz had taken the welding job. The tips were what made up the difference. The job had a learning curve, but after that, it was pretty easy. Champ, whose real name was Jeff, was the main bartender, by personal preference. He had “gifted” the weekends to Din, who was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. During the week, though, things worked a little differently. Din worked from 11 am to 7 pm, though the bar wasn’t usually hopping until after 5. So he would help out where he could. With the exclusion of Tequila, whose real name was Channing, and his dry show runs when the restaurant was dead, Din refused to expose himself to strangers like that. Not again.
Din liked the work. It kept him busy. It kept him out of the house, but it didn’t keep the members of the house away from him. David had made it a habit to grab lunch here, at least once a week. Nani dropped by any time she was in town. She had turned 21 earlier this year. Din knew this because they’d made a point of celebrating at The Statesman. Champ had refused to let her pay for anything, establishing that any family of Din's, was family of his. Even with that in mind, she only ever bought a soda for the road. At the bar, just to give Din something to do. The kids technically weren’t supposed to be here, at least not without an adult. Still, they’d made a habit of dropping by after Lilo’s dance class to say hi and to pester Uncle Din. Ginger would often step in, take them around back, and get them something to eat if Din wasn’t available.
Paz, on the other hand, made himself available as often as he could. They’d walk home together most nights. Every two weeks, on payday, Paz would bring around as many of his coworkers as he could cajole. Because Friday nights weren’t busy enough without a bar full of freshly paid construction workers. Not that Din was complaining.
Much to his surprise, The Statesman was busy. It may be late June, but it was a Monday. Monday’s weren’t usually busy, but today was an exception. Din liked to keep busy. He hopped between the kitchen and the bar, trying to give Tequila some much-needed relief. He’d gotten more confident with his cooking since the “mac and cheese incident,” which Stitch still liked to bring up. That’s where he was, in the kitchen, when one of the temporary faces came to find him.
“A guy is looking for you, at the bar,” the young woman said as she came to grab a tray full of plates. With an apology to Tequila, Din left to tend the bar, thinking nothing of it - until he got a good look at the guy sitting across the polished oak counter. To say he did a double-take was an understatement. He fumbled with the shot glass he’d picked up, trying to fight every instinct to start a fight but also to keep it from shattering to the ground as his fingers went numb. Where he came from, clones were hardly harbingers of good tidings. The stranger had a similar reaction. He leaned back on the stool, whistled, and slapped a hand down on the bar.
“Well, butter my biscuit. You must be the new Agent Whiskey.” Jack Daniels laughed, as he took in the sight before him. The man who had taken his job right out from under him was his doppelganger. He decided to laugh it off, for now, and extend his hand. “I’m Jack Daniels. I used to work here.”
“Din Djarin,” Din said haltingly as he took the offered hand and shook it. He still wasn’t quite sure how to react. After the initial shock had worn off, he began to notice some differences. For one, and this was purely a vanity thing, the other man’s mustache was a mess. Din took great pride in his mustache, something that Paz teased him about constantly. The other more distinct difference was that Jack had a deep southern accent. “What can I get you?”
Jack ordered a glass of whiskey, because of course, he did. He paid for it straight, stiffing Din on the tip. Din didn’t let little things like that annoy him, but what was annoying was the guy’s insistence on playing a round of 20 Questions, which Din simply couldn’t make time for. His doppelganger only got so far as asking how long he'd been on the job before an intervention appeared in the form of Champ. Showing up a few hours early to relieve the pressure, he had made Jack from the back of the restaurant where his office was. He wound his way through the hopping joint to lay a heavy hand on the former employee.
“Whatcha doing around here, Jack?” Champ asked, nodding a dismissal to Din who didn’t hesitate to duck back into the kitchen and out of earshot.
“Oh, you know me, Champ. Just having a drink,” Jack said innocently as he finished said drink.
“And bothering my bartender. You know you can’t come aroun’ here anymore. We talked about this. Why don’t we step back in my office?” Champ offered, reaching behind the bar for another bottle of whiskey. Anything to placate what had been his favorite employee for the longest time. It was better than the alternative.
~ ~ ~
Hallie was clocking in as Din was getting ready to clock out. She had to admit she had a bit of a crush on her workmate, but who could blame her? Though she respected that he had a boyfriend whom she had seen waiting at the back door like clockwork. It wasn’t that the tall, brooding guy needed a bodyguard. She thought it was quite sweet. Paz had even held open the door for her.
“Paz is waiting for you outside,” Hallie said, trying to balance her purse, a plastic container, and her apron, all while trying to clock in.
“Oh, is he?” Din said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Like clockwork. He couldn’t stand by and watch Hallie struggle, so he reached to take part of her load. “Here, let me help you with that.”
“Thank you!” Hallie said with a radiant smile spreading across her cheeks. She really did like this Whiskey compared to the last one. Not that she liked to speak ill of others. Jack could be a nice guy, he really could. It was just that he had - that problem. “How was today?”
“Busy, but nothing we couldn’t handle. I met a guy who used to work here. Used to have my job, I think. His name is Jack?” Din asked.
“Oh,” Hallie said, in a small voice. Speak of the devil, “Yeah, I know Jack. He was Whiskey before you were.”
Din didn’t know what he was expecting. He didn’t know much of anything about his predecessor, and he found he didn’t care. As long as the guy hadn’t come around planning trouble. When Hallie was settled, he made to return the plastic container she’d brought in with her.
“Those are for you,” she said, having a moment. “Oh my gosh. I’m sorry. Gah, I’m all distracted. I was gonna do this whole thing. I’m so sorry. Happy birthday, Din!”
Din took a moment to study the tray now being thrust back into his arms. He hadn’t bothered to give it so much as a glance since taking it off of her. Sitting in the tray were a dozen blue cupcakes, with yellow writing. The message was sweet but simple:”‘Happy bday Din.”. He couldn’t hide the smile that spread across his face. It had taken him a moment to figure out how she knew because he for sure hadn’t told anyone. The application Nani had brought him, and the paperwork he’d filled out when he’d gotten the job had all asked for his birthday. It was a formality. Something to do with the liquor license. Ginger had been the one to process everything and walk him through the training. It had never occurred to him that she would care enough to remember.
“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” Din said as he finally looked up. He knew he had the dumbest grin on his face, like a child.
“It’s no big thing. You’re welcome!” Hallie said, with an equally broad grin. They were interrupted by a shout from upfront. Champ was beginning to wonder where Hallie was. “Have a goodnight Din!”
He was still grinning when he met Paz outside. Paz looked curiously between the tray and his ori’vod’s beaming face. He leaned in for a kiss, carefully prying the tray out of his hands, “Have a good day at work?”
“No complaints. I met the guy who had the job before me, though. Hallie baked me some cupcakes, as you can see,” Din said, before returning the kiss. He decided to leave out the part about Jack being his doppelganger. He didn’t see it as important. “I’m sorry I was an asshole this morning.”
It wasn’t a bad walk. About half an hour, if one didn’t get caught up in conversation. Sometimes Nani or David would come out to offer a ride, always claiming to be on their way home themselves. That wasn’t the case tonight. The reason came to light as Paz halted in the driveway.
“I know you don’t like surprises, so there’s something you need to know,” Paz said as Din slowly turned to look at him. “You have to know, I didn’t plan this. Nani only looped me in last week. I was sworn to secrecy.”
“I told you not to tell anyone,” Din said, a small frown, almost a pout, tugging at his lips.
“I didn’t, I swear. I think they figured it out themselves. What was I supposed to do? Look, I had to let you know. I just need you to act surprised, when the time comes,” Paz said, pecking him on the cheek, as he took back the cupcakes.
“I appreciate you letting me know,” Din said after a moment, as they began to move up the driveway. A year ago today, he’d climbed this same driveway, with a concussion and several broken ribs. Lost and disoriented, only focused on finding the child, following tracks long covered up, though fresher ones were darting across the dirt road. These children really did run wild.
The party was a smashing success. Things were kept simple, sweet and to the point. Lilo had baked a cake. David’s gift had been postponed until Friday morning, whatever that meant. Din had a pretty good idea, but he was willing to continue to act surprised. Stitch had an odd way of giving his gift. He called it a joint gift from him and the baby, as he handed Ad’ika to his father. The child was clutching two things: the joint gift and his own personal gift. The joint gift was a t-shirt that read ‘Number One Dad.’. The second gift, which Din thought might have just been a late-night snack -, but he digressed - was a frog. This explained why they’d been hiding in the mud - and other than a quick exchange had all but ignored him - as he was leaving for work. The frog had expired somewhat recently.
This was something that had started somewhat recently, and Din couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The child had made a habit of saving portions of his food to gift to his buir as soon as he saw him next. Din couldn’t explain it. He accepted the frog graciously, making plans to bury it somewhere the kid wasn’t likely to mess around for a couple of days. They cut into the cake, deciding to save the cupcakes for later. The kids were forced to share one slice, as it was getting late. Din found that he had to make a display of eating his own larger slice. He truly couldn’t understand why the kid felt he wasn’t eating enough. Despite this, Paz warned him, as they carried the sleeping child back to the IPV-1, that there were half-chewed bites of cake hidden in his pockets.
All in all, this might have been the best birthday he’d ever had. He couldn’t remember celebrating them with his parents. Paz had always made a point of ensuring he got some kind of celebration when they were kids. Din was pretty sure that the last time he’d celebrated his birth had been the one after they swore the Creed when the Mythosaur tattoos they shared across their backs were still fresh and new. They had gone separate paths, and Din hadn’t seen the point behind making a big deal out of the affair. Until now.
“ Briikase gote’tuur ,” Paz whispered. They worked as a team. Din would change Ad’ika into his pajamas, and lately, he’d started swaddling him in a blanket again. Paz would get his floating pram in order, which usually entailed trying to locate where in the ship the kid hidden his stuffed toy.
Life didn’t use to be this complicated. There hadn’t been much of a “ritual” to bedtime, at least not quite like this. It was imperative that the stuffed toy be found, lest the occupants of the ship wanted a 3 a.m. wakeup call from a cranky toddler. The kid seemed to enjoy the game because it seemed like he was intentionally switching up his hiding spots. Forty-five minutes had passed since Paz had begun the search in earnest.
Din sat on his side of the large bed, his legs drawn up so that Paz wouldn’t accuse him of hiding the toy or something silly, as his anxiety heightened. The child had long since fallen asleep in his arms, sucking on a balled-up glove Din had found for him in the meantime. He could hear Paz up in the cockpit, beginning to curse. Taking his life in his hands, Din decided to tease him. “I thought you were a galaxy renowned bounty hunter! Yet, you can’t find a simple children’s toy!”
“Djarin ...,” Paz said in an amusedly annoyed tone. Din recognized that tone. He stood up swiftly, exiting the bedroom and stepping into the side room that they’d converted for the child. Something between the changing table and clothes chest caught his attention. Carefully setting the baby into his crib, he bent down to pick it up, with an amused smirk crossing his face. The one place they’d overlooked when the search began in earnest.
“Paz! I found ...” He was surprised to turn and find Paz standing in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest, an unreadable expression on his face. Din found himself grinning somewhat sheepishly, He knew exactly what this looked like. He held up the toy for inspection, shaking it, before reaching back to tuck into the baby’s pram. All without breaking eye contact with the taller man. “I love you?”
“ Bedroom ,” Paz growled, a hint of amusement sparkling in his eyes, betraying his true emotion.