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If asked, Din would say he doesn’t keep score when he and Luke spar. It’s all for fun, neither playing to win, just a way to pass the time as the kids take their nap time. That being said, the score is 3-1 in Luke’s favor when Din pulls himself to a seated position.
“You need to try to be less sword focused,” he says, brushing off grass caught in the creases of his armor.
Luke offers him a hand, which he takes, and pulls him up. “You’re just saying that so you can win.”
Din doesn’t take the bait. “You can always drop it in a fight.”
“I could.” Luke tosses aside his lightsaber, letting it disappear in the thick grass. “But you do realize I could always just-”
Just as quick as he’d thrown it, the lightsaber is flying back toward his hand, but Din has expected this. One arm lets out the ripcord, wrapping around Luke’s extended hand and the other one goes for the spear on his back. Pulling, he knocks Luke off balance so he’s on one knee, spear pointed at his neck.
The lightsaber bounces off Luke’s knuckles as they stare at each other. Din has to take a moment to ground himself, moving his weight to his heels and back to the balls of his feet to remind him where he is. It’s too easy to get lost in those eyes.
So, he focuses on the bewildered look on Luke’s face as he tilts his head.
“You were saying?”
Luke sighs. “Fine, fine, we can try sparring without my saber.”
“And no Jedi tricks?”
“And no Jedi tricks.” Luke quirks a half grin, “Now, are you going to let me go now?”
Oh, right.
Din retracts the ripcord and Luke stands up with a small shake of his hand. The movement catches Din’s eye and he’s transfixed by those fingers that grip a lightsaber just as easily as they cradle his child when Grogu passes out due to accidental overexertion.
Luke clears his throat and Din realizes he’s staring.
“Right,” he said, hoping his embarrassment isn’t picked up by his helmet. “And I won’t use my weapons either.”
Luke nods and Din steps off to the side to disarm himself of his weapons. He’s not as armed to the teeth as he is on bounties, but weapons are still his religion.
“Are you done yet?” Luke asks, the smile evident in his voice even as Din’s facing away from him. He huffs out a laugh.
The spear is the last to be removed, landing with the rest of his arsenal.
He walks back to Luke, who’s shifting his weight from one foot to the other, hands disappearing in the sleeves of his robe.
Din considers him from a moment before saying, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Luke scoffs. “And pass on the opportunity to fight hand-to-hand with a real Mandalorian? Why would I ever pass on that chance.”
“Alright,” he drops into a low stance as easy as ever. “I’ll go easy on you.”
Luke eyes him warily, but he can see Luke try and mimic his stance.
“I can teach you properly, but I want to see where-” Din can’t finish that sentence before Luke is upon him, all flailing limbs and dark fabric.
It’s not the worst attempt Din has seen, but it’s up there. It takes less than a minute to get Luke face down in the ground, Din kneeling above him. The lack of any loud crunching sounds reassures Din he hasn’t broken Luke’s nose.
“Who the hell taught you to fight?”
Luke lifts his head off the ground just enough to speak. “My aunt taught me how to shoot, Obi-wan taught me lightsaber basics, and Han taught me how not to break my thumb when punching someone.”
Well, it’s a start.
“Basics then,” he says, mostly to himself.
“Basics?” Luke asks as Din pulls himself up. “You mean you’re going to teach me?”
Din pauses. He thought that had been implied.
“Yes? Unless you don’t-”
“No! No, I want to learn!” Luke says, a little too quickly. He scrambles back up to his feet and rubs off some of the dirt from his face. “So, what’s first?”
“But first, you’re gonna have to take that off.”
Luke looks down on his black robes, and then back up at Din. “Why?”
“It’ll just get in the way. You need a free range of motion at least when learning.”
Luke huffs, but drops his cloak to the grassy floor all the same. He floats it over to where Din’s weapons are, folding it as it passes through the air. That leaves him in his trousers and a light-tan tunic, the low cut revealing a compression top.
With that out of the way, Din starts teaching the basics; how far to spread his legs apart, how to hold his arms, how to hit someone without hurting yourself. Luke takes to it with a focus Din only sees in meditation and the few missions he’s seen Luke on.
They don’t spar as much as Luke uses him as his own punching bag, pulling his punches so he doesn’t break a hand on the beskar. Din is thankful for the fight, which forces himself to focus on gently blocking Luke’s punches and not getting lost in Luke’s intense expression.
The sun is still hanging over the horizon when they finish that exercise. Din knows soon the kids will wake up and afternoon activities will start, and he should let Luke prepare for that, but he doesn’t seem to be looking at the Temple, so Din hazards a question.
“Do you want to try some grapples?”
Luke is still catching his breath, but nods, a smile gracing his features.
Maybe that’s why Din should’ve realized he was fucked.
Because demonstrating grapples requires physical contact. And not the quick physical contact of a punch, but the slow, deliberate contact that’s involved in incapacitating, followed by questions to make sure that Luke isn’t uncomfortable, if he understands how the grapple is supposed to work. And then they have to reverse and let Luke try it on him, Luke’s hands finding the spaces between armor, becoming suddenly intimate with the fine corded muscle Luke hides under those robes.
But Din does it, thankful for the layers between them and the helmet hiding the creeping warmth on his face.
He’s halfway to bringing Luke into a kneeling position, his arms tucked under Luke’s armpits, locking him in place, when Luke freezes underneath him, saying, “Wait-”
Din stills, loosening his grip on the other man.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, lemme just-”
Luke shakes his leg and for a second Din thinks he’s pinched a nerve or pulled a muscle. That is before there’s a soft thunk in the grass as something fell out of Luke’s pant leg.
The two of them look at the offending piece of silicone. Din swears he can see Luke’s face warm up on the HUD.
“Luke-”
“I know.”
“-your dick fell out.”
“I know.”
Din’s grip loosens as his shoulders start to shake from restrained laughter. A wind kicks up and makes the packer wiggle and then it’s over, Din being helpless to the laughter that shakes his core. He staggers back, hands on his knees as he tries and fails to calm down. Luke stays where he’s half kneeling, hiding his face in his hands, muttering about sweat and adhesive.
When Din collects himself, he manages to say, “It’s fine. I once had mine fall out during a hunt for a bounty.”
Luke gives him an incredulous grin. “Really?”
“Yeah and… then I threw it at the guy.”
Luke looks at him before bursting out laughing himself, falling onto the grass with gut wrenching gasps. Din laughs along with him, the memory just as ridiculous as ever.
“I needed a distraction and then it just… fell out!” he tries by way of explanation, but that seems to get Luke to laugh harder.
It feels like an hour passes before Luke is able to get a full breath in and speak.
“Oh, stars,” he says with a gasp, still laying in the grass, hair fanned out around him. “I don’t think I’ve laughed that hard in a while.”
Din holds out his hand and pulls Luke up. Either Din forgot his own strength, or Luke is still out of it from laughing because the two collide with the momentum. Luke grabs onto the edges of the chest plate to steady himself as Din’s hands hover over his shoulders.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Luke says, slightly breathless. Din blames it on the laughter.
Luke stills for a moment, eyes going glassy in a familiar way when he’s talking to students along their training bond.
He gives Din a small smile, taking a step back. “The kids are awake. We probably would’ve had to stop anyway, I have to clean my dick.”
Luke stoops down to pick up his packer, his robes floating over in the same movement, draping over his shoulders as he stands back up.
Din swallows, mouth suddenly dry. “Need me to look after the foundlings while you do so?”
“Padawans, but,” Luke’s smile is shy now, “if it wouldn’t be any trouble.”
“Of course not.”
Luke nods and Din watches as he shoves his dirty packer into his robes before walking in the direction of the nearby lake.
The sigh comes unbidden from Din’s lips, longing and wistful in a way he knows it shouldn’t be.