Work Text:
I.
Boba’s kingdom was beginning to settle.
Months had passed since Boba and Fennec took control of the former Hutt kingdom on Tatooine. The work to repair the damage done by Bib Fortuna was tedious, but rewarding. The beginning, everything had been fast paced and Boba barely had time to sleep.
He didn’t think the Hutts had done so much paperwork, but Boba also did not have a vast kingdom of people he could trust to do this menial work, so he would have to suffer through it for now. There was much more left to do, but now - now it felt more routine.
Boba only signed paperwork in the evening, to be available for grievances aired by the citizens of his new kingdom. He needed to know where to start, what to fix. He had an idea, but the People always knew better.
He was just getting ready to return to his office when The Mandalorian appeared. The man was tall and imposing in his Beskar, and Boba felt a fondness fill his chest at the sight of him. They didn’t know one another for long, but in the weeks they worked closely together, and following months of comm contact was enough for Boba to consider him a friend.
“Good to have you back,” Boba told the other. The Mandalorian offered his hand in greeting, and Boba could not help but to grasp his forearm in a traditional Mandalorian handshake. He felt the Mandalorian do the same.
“Good to be back.”
II.
The Mandalorian had settled easily into Boba’s kingdom, like he had been there from day one. He easily took any jobs that Boba had asked of him, returning with people or product or anything else he was assigned. Boba was relieved to have someone he could trust the way he trusted Fennec.
Occasionally, Fennec would get restless, and take these tasks instead, and the Mandalorian would take her place standing quietly behind the throne.
This fact did not stop Boba from becoming agitated with the utter garbage that came through in an attempt to ‘bargain’ with him, those who attempted to cut corners on deals they had made, or reap the benefits of contracts they held with the previous rulers of this kingdom.
Boba could feel the rage bubbling under his skin as another slimy bastard left and was replaced with what appeared to be another. Boba did not care, these meetings needed to end.
But suddenly, there was a hand on the back of his neck. Not enough to restrain him, or injure him, but a soft touch. He almost didn’t feel it, but just almost. Boba looked up sharply and the Mandalorian, but the passive beskar helmet stopped him from overreacting.
He took a moment to calm himself, taking the next meeting. The light, grounding touch stayed upon his neck for the remainder of the meeting, though no one else seemed to notice the touch.
Wrapping up the last meeting of the day, Boba stood and the touch disappeared as if it had never been there.
III.
Boba’s eyes itched. The words on the pages were starting the blend together and make little sense. The words were in Basic, which he appreciated over those who had tried to write their contracts in Basic, but when he was this tired Huttese and Basic looked all the same to him.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Perhaps if he just closed them for a second, they would make more sense.
Just for a moment…
The next thing he remembers is being shaken a bit, a hand on his shoulder.
“Fett.” The voice clearly came through a vocoder. It was the Mandalorian, then. He hummed softly and kept his eyes closed. He was so tired. He heard the voice again, saying his name and shifting him a bit. He could hear Din sigh.
He could feel himself being shifted, and lifted. His mind felt fuzzy, but not drugged. Just, exhausted. He knew he was being carried somewhere, and that the Mandalorian was talking softly to him.
In the morning, Boba would wake up in his own bed and swear it was all a dream.
IV.
The day started off as any other had, almost boring in a way that was getting Too Normal. Boba took his time getting to the throne room, passing Fennec on the way out. She handed him reports of things that had happened overnight, and headed to sleep herself.
He made it to the throne room in short order, The Mandalorian already standing guard and cutting an imposing figure. There were very few milling around, though the room would become busier as they day went on. Boba sighed as he settled into the throne.
He wished he thought to grab some caf on the way out.
He was so focused on the reports that surprise lurched at his gut when Din suddenly moved and the king felt a stinging pain though an unarmored section of his arm. He hissed, pressing a gloved hand to the wound. A flurry of activity rose up around him.
Just like that, the would-be assassin was captured and carted away by Guards - ones that had been vetted by Shand, he assumed - and the Mandalorian was at his side.
“You’re injured.” Boba pulled his hand away from the wound briefly. It didn’t look bad, and he’d definitely had worse than a little scratch on his shoulder. Still, the beskar-clad man turned to the court and actually dismissed the remaining people.
Boba was hauled up.
“I’m taking you to the med bay, there may have been something on the knife.”
After that, the Mandalorian hovered. Mando stood menacingly over the med droid that checked his blood for toxins - administer an antidote - and patch him with a bit of bacta. “You must be monitored for 24 hours,” the med droid told him. The droid rolled off, trusting the other machinery to keep track of his vitals.
Still, the Mando stayed. Stock still, and silent as a statue.
“You don’t have to babysit me, the door is guarded,” Boba sighed. The beskar shifted, an odd tell of emotion from the other man. It was a minute movement, but one that Boba could pick up easily having been raised in armor.
“I couldn’t protect you,” Din growled. “I couldn’t protect you, and you were injured.” The Mandalorian brushed gentle fingers over the bacta patch, as if to remind him. Boba watched him for a moment, frowning. He huffed, leaning back against the pillows.
“Yes, I was injured. It’s not the first time I have been injured, and won’t be the last.” He placed his hand over the others fingers - over the wound that was rapidly fading due to the Bacta. “Because of you, Mando, I’m still alive.
The other stayed silent for a long moment.
“My name is Din Djarin, and I will not allow you get injured again. Not if I can help it.”
V.
Weeks passed with little incident.
Din hovered more than ever, and Boba was uncertain if the other man was sleeping at all. He rarely took a hunt, and only when he was certain Fennec would be on guard, but even that was an uncertainty. Today, Din stood behind the throne, beskar spear held firmly in hand as he watched over the throne room.
Fennec stood watch as well, though she was casually lounging along the side of the throne.
Boba could practically feel how tense Din was behind him. He could barely focus on the court before him, though no one came to demands things of him today. A rare day, indeed. He stood, stretching out his aching muscles.
Din tensed even more, behind him.
He leaned down and spoke to Fennec quietly, asking her to watch over the proceedings before making his way towards Din. The man’s stance became more rigid the closer Boba got to him, but Boba just stood before him for a moment.
“When was the last time you slept?” Boba asked. Din remained silent. It was the only answer Boba needed. He sighed, motioning for Din to follow him down the halls and into the nearest room. The King’s quarters were large, and much closer to the throne room than what was really advisable.
“If I stay in these rooms, would you sleep.” It was barely a question as it was stated.
Din’s shoulders pulled towards his helm in a somewhat helpless shrug. “I can try,” he said, clearing his throat. Boba hummed then nodded, arranging the pillows upon the couch to one end. A light blanket was draped over the back.
“Then try,” Boba gestured to the makeshift bed. Din’s shoulders slumped a bit and he walked first towards Boba. As far as the casual touches went, the way that Din’s hand came up to cup his neck was the most intimate, though the contact did not stop there.
“Vor entye.” Din offered, pressing their foreheads together gently. He pulled away just as quickly, before settling onto the couch.
Boba flushed, suddenly pleased that Din settled down quickly to sleep. He made his way to his desk, but no work would be done here today.
& I.
Boba could never quite forget the keldabe kiss Din bestowed upon him when he was sleep deprived. It burned in the back of his mind, though Din did not bring it up once he woke. It had been weeks and weeks since it happened.
There had been a marked change though. Din spent far more time in Boba’s room than before. In doing so, Din became more comfortable in his presence. One late night, before sleeping once again on Boba’s couch, Din tentatively removed his helmet. He gave Boba a shy smile, and Boba could feel his breath catch in his throat.
Boba could not stop himself from gently touching Din’s face. “Thank you for trusting me with your face, Cabur,” he had told the man.
Din wore his helmet less often within the confines of Boba’s room after that.
The two quickly settled into a new routine. Din would often nap while Boba would do paperwork, while Fennec would watch over the proceedings of the kingdom without them. She could handle herself, and she had her own guards that she trusted.
In the mornings, Boba would sometimes offer Din a hunt. Something he had picked out of the paperwork the night before. He always took jobs that were offered him. Boba would not offer him something he wasn’t specifically required for.
On this particular morning, Boba slid the paperwork detailing the job before Din at the breakfast table. The pair went over it together, and Din gave a small nod agreeing to the job and tottering off to get ready for the day.
Boba remained at the table, completing the final details of the job and quick paperwork he could finish before heading out to the throne room. Din returned, dressed in his armor and his bucket under his arm.
“I will return as soon as possible,” He said, looking over Boba’s shoulder to skim the information again. Boba looked up at Din, who leaned down and gave him a kiss. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” Boba murmured, returning back to his paperwork. He sipped his caf, and Din placed his helmet upon his head and was out the door. It took several moments before Boba jerked his head towards the door. Boba touched his lips for a second, staring after Din who was long gone.
No more paperwork was done that day.
