Archive of Our Own ^beta

Boba isn’t thinking about ripping Skywalker’s pretty smile off his face.

He isn’t thinking about it, because it would be childish, petty, and ridiculous. Boba isn’t a child anymore, and is thus perfectly capable of being in the same room as someone he doesn’t like without imagining ten different ways of making them squeal in pain.

Besides, he’s pretty sure Din doesn’t give a crap about how pretty Skywalker’s smile is.

He also thinks Skywalker doesn’t mean anything by it. Or maybe he’s doing it on purpose, because he’s a little piece of shit who likes playing with fire.

But if he’s doing it on purpose, then this is a competition Boba is winning by not thinking about wrapping his hands around Skywalker’s neck to squeeze until his pretty face turns purple.

This is fine. Boba is happy to sit here and watch as Din holds his kid tight to his chest while talking to the Jedi. He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he doesn’t need to. Din’s body language is relaxed, comfortable. His shoulders shake as he looks down to gently stroke one of the kid’s large ears, and Boba can almost hear his fond laugh.

Skywalker isn’t a threat, and Boba doesn’t like having him here, but he can tolerate his presence, considering he’s here to drop the kid off for three weeks. It’s been a while since the kid last visited and he knows Din has missed him.

Skywalker leans in to smile at the kid and say something that makes him shriek happily. When he straightens up, Din offers him his hand, and Skywalker shakes it with a boyish grin.

Boba expects Skywalker to leave then, but he looks up to stare at him instead. Boba narrows his eyes, dreading the thought of the Jedi deciding to come up here and ruin his best efforts to remain civil by opening his mouth, but Skywalker simply bows his head politely.

Boba relaxes a bit and nods. Skywalker grins, pulls his hood up, and leaves.

Little shit.

He feels Fennec approaching. She’s always quiet but she’s not trying to completely erase her presence this time. Besides, Boba is used to it by now, so he doesn’t even blink when she sits on the armrest of the throne.

“He didn’t even stay for a drink,” she says, and takes a sip of the poison she chose to indulge in tonight.

The dozing massiff at Boba’s feet perks up at the sound of her voice and stretches before coming closer to get her attention. She immediately indulges him.

“So rude of him, isn’t that right, Kiki?” she coos at the massiff, and scratches the top of his head.

Boba does think about headbutting Fennec for the ridiculous nickname she decided to give his massiff. “You should ask him next time, I’d love to see that,” he tells her.

“I will,” Fennec says with a grin.

Boba focuses his attention back on Din and the kid. The green little terror is babbling at him happily, and Boba can’t help but snort quietly when he sees Din nodding and encouraging him to continue even though he has no idea what the kid is trying to say. But maybe understanding him isn’t the point. Boba finds it unnerving because he has no idea how to react, but Din seems perfectly at ease. They’re a fascinating pair to watch, really.

Din looks up and glances at Boba, tilting his head in a silent question.

“Go ahead, your little family’s waiting for you,” Fennec whispers teasingly.

Boba rolls his eyes. He doesn’t even bother with a reply before rising from his seat. Fennec immediately slides off the armrest to take his spot, and Kih’kyramud almost climbs on her lap to ask for more affection. Boba whistles and the massiff whines, but he gets off her and falls behind Boba obediently.

Good boy, Boba signs before walking over to Din. The little one finally notices him, his brown eyes focusing on Boba, and his big ears perking up.

“Bah!” the kid exclaims, waving a clawed hand at him.

Boba hums. “Hi, kid.”

He immediately starts babbling again, patting Din’s helmet to grab his attention. Din chuckles fondly and Boba shakes his head before heading towards the stairs. The kid keeps talking all the way up to their quarters and Boba thinks he can hear a few sounds that might actually start sounding like words in there. He unlocks the door to their quarters and lets Din and the kid in first.

“I’m going to show him his room, are you coming?” Din asks.

Boba shakes his head. “Go ahead, you two catch up. I’ll start making dinner.”

“Oh. Right. Are you sure?”

“I can handle a karking bantha stew, Djarin,” Boba growls.

Din snorts. “Alright, alright,” he concedes, then looks down at the kid. “Let’s see your room, okay?”

“Patoo!”

Boba watches the pair leave and makes his way towards the kitchen space. He takes off his helmet, vambraces and gloves, and retrieves the different ingredients to prepare the stew for tonight. Kih’kyramud sits next to him and looks up hopefully, but he quickly gives up when Boba pointedly ignores him to chop the vegetables. The massiff sighs like he’s the most miserable creature in the entire galaxy and lies down.

Cooking used to feel like a waste of time. His father didn’t cook much and when he did, Boba was more focused on spending time with him than actually learning what he was doing. Boba didn’t learn after his death, because he didn’t need to know how to cook to survive. For years, rations and instant-cooked meals were more than enough for him.

But now that he’s learned a few things, Boba finds that he enjoys it. By the time Din and the kid join him in the kitchen, Boba is done chopping the vegetables and preparing the meat. He has added the vegetables to the pot, and is busy stirring the food and making sure it’s cooked enough before adding the wine. Din is out of armor, save for the helmet. It’s not an unusual sight. Din has spent the last thirty years of his life wearing a helmet at all times, even if he now feels comfortable removing it in front of the kid—and more recently, in front of Boba—wearing it is a habit so ingrained he doesn’t even notice he still has it on most of the time.

The kid’s eyes grow big at the sight of the meat. He starts babbling, pointing at it excitedly.

“It’s not ready yet,” Din tells him.

The kid growls as he tries to escape Din’s hold. Boba snorts and stirs the food.

“Alright, I’ll put you down, but you better not try to steal anything with your Force magic,” Din says sternly.

“Patoo!”

Din sits him down on the kitchen counter. Boba watches him out of the corner of his eye, but the kid simply stares at the meat and makes delighted little noises. Din immediately starts assisting Boba and they both take care of finishing the preparation until it’s time to reduce the heat and let the stew simmer.

“Not yet,” Din scolds the kid when he sees him approaching the pot with interest.

The kid blows a raspberry at him and makes little angry noises. Din grabs him and puts him down on the floor.

“Why don’t you go play with Kiki?”

Boba tries not to feel betrayed by this. He fails. Kih’kyramud looks up at the child approaching him and lets the kid half climb on top of him and pat his head with happy coos.

“Are you pouting?” Din asks suddenly and Boba looks up with a frown.

“I’m not,” he denies.

Din hums. “Oh, right, my bad.”

Boba narrows his eyes at him and grabs the hem of Din’s shirt to tug on it and pull him closer. Din chuckles and goes with it before wrapping his arms around Boba’s neck.

“Your bucket’s in the way,” Boba rumbles and reaches for the helmet.

Din doesn’t try to stop him, so Boba starts gently pulling it off, when something suddenly hits his chest hard enough to push the air out of his lungs and send him tumbling backward. Boba grunts when his back hits the kitchen counter, grateful for the armor covering it.

“What the—” Din starts, but the growl suddenly echoing in the kitchen is enough for Boba to understand what just happened.

He looks down to find the kid glaring at him, his small hand outstretched in his direction, little growling sounds falling from his mouth. Well, kriff, it seems that Skywalker is teaching him things after all.

“Grogu!” Din exclaims and picks the kid up. “What—oh.”

“That was unnecessary,” Boba grumbles and straightens up, leveling the kid with a glare of his own.

“Grogu. It’s okay, Boba can take off my helmet,” Din tells the kid softly.

Boba blinks. Is that what this is about? The kid stops making angry sounds to look up at Din and tilts his head.

“Bah?” he asks.

“Yes. Boba is allowed to see my face.”

The child shifts his head to look at Boba and narrows his eyes. “C’mon kid, you know he’d kick my shebs if I tried to take it off without his permission. But I appreciate you looking out for him,” Boba tells him.

“Here, I’ll just—” Din lifts his helmet up and drops it on the kitchen counter. “See? It’s fine.”

The kid coos and gently pats Din’s cheek. Din smiles at him fondly and Boba can’t help but stare, warmth spreading inside his chest at the sight. This is a smile he has never seen before, and Boba feels the same wonder he’s filled with whenever he discovers a new expression on this face he loves so much. It feels like a gift, even if this specific smile isn’t aimed at him.

Boba leans in and nuzzles Din’s cheek. Din hums and shifts his head so they can kiss, a simple press of lips, but this feels like a gift too.

“Bah!” the kid shrieks.

Boba pulls away with a wince. “How can you be so small yet so loud?” he growls and arches a brow at the look the kid gives him.

He’s squinting, something akin to defiance shining in his big brown eyes as he reveals his tiny, razor-sharp teeth in a menacing expression. Boba’s pretty sure he’s never seen him make this one before and by the puzzled look on Din’s face, he hasn’t either.

“Is he that hungry?” Boba asks, tilting his head.

Din opens his mouth, but the kid immediately starts rambling, making wide gestures at Boba as he growls and babbles at lightspeed.

Boba blinks. “Right. I’m gonna go get changed,” he tells Din.

He grabs his helmet, gloves and vambraces, and leaves the kitchen as Din asks the kid what’s up, only to be drowned under a new flow of baby talk.

The kid is being weird.

Boba is no expert in children, especially not when they’re this small and green and unable to speak properly, but he’s pretty sure the way he’s been acting since Skywalker dropped him off isn’t normal. Boba narrows his eyes at the kid. He’s been staring at him with a very serious and somber look while eating his breakfast and Boba has no idea what is going on.

Din isn’t here; he left early this morning to go to Mos Esley while the kid was still asleep, so Boba took care of getting him out of bed and fixing him something to eat for breakfast. It’s not the first time he’s done it—Din has left Grogu in his care before they even became a thing and Boba doesn’t think he did anything different.

Grogu started talking to him with a very serious expression the moment Boba entered his room. He usually doesn’t seem to mind that Boba has no idea what he’s trying to say and only hums and grunts occasionally to show he’s listening, but he definitely minds today. He’s just been growing more and more loud and frustrated until he simply stopped talking.

Boba appreciates the silence, but he’s not quite sure what to make of the dark look the kid is sending him across the table.

Boba is pretty sure this is because he tried to take off Din’s helmet yesterday.

Is the kid still upset about that? Boba thought he understood when Din explained to him that Boba could see his face, but something must still be bothering him for him to act like this.

Or he just decided he couldn’t stand Boba anymore, for some reason.

Boba scowls.

“What did you do to him?” Fennec drawls before taking a sip of her caf.

He shouldn’t have let her in.

“Nothing,” Boba mutters.

She arches a brow and studies the kid. “I’ve never seen him look so pissed.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

“Hm, maybe he’s upset Mando left without him this morning.”

Boba doubts that’s the reason, but he can’t bring himself to tell her he thinks the kid just hates him. She’d make fun of him and he isn’t in the mood for that.

Boba doesn’t care whether or not people like him. He’s used to being feared and despised by most people and if the kid decides he wants to join the long list of people who can’t stand Boba Fett, well, that’s fine. His mission is to make sure the kid is safe and fed while Din is gone; Boba doesn’t need the kid to like him for that.

He’s just—annoyed.

Because he doesn’t care if the kid doesn’t like him, but he already knows Din will.

Kih’kyramud whines and nudges Boba’s thigh with his snout. Boba looks down and pats the massiff on the head. “Yes, let the kid finish his breakfast, alright?”

Fennec snorts. “You’re as impatient to get out as he is. I can watch the kid, you two go on your walk.”

Boba glares at her. Just because she’s right doesn’t mean she should feel free to compare him to the giant puppy wiggling excitedly next to him. “I can wait.”

“I’m sure,” she says, her tone clearly indicating she doesn’t believe him a second, “but Kiki can’t. Besides, I think the kid will eat a lot faster if he isn’t busy glaring at you.”

Boba glances at the kid, who is indeed so busy squinting at him he misses his mouth again. “I guess. Are you sure?” he asks.

She waves him off. “I have reports to read,” she says, gesturing at the datapad she brought with her. “Go.”

Well, if she insists. Boba finishes his caf and stands up. Kih’kyramud immediately dashes towards the door while Boba grabs his helmet and puts it on before joining the whining pup. He opens the door, snorting when the massiff scrambles out and disappears down the stairs.

Boba finds him going back and forth in front of the large doors leading outside the palace, the two guards on duty smiling at his antics.

“Morning, Boss,” they say when they notice him approaching.

Boba nods. One of the guards opens the door and Kih’kyramud is out the moment he can squeeze his bulky frame through it. Boba’s HUD automatically filters the sudden light and he steps outside, the door closing behind him. Kih’kyramud didn’t go very far and he dashes back towards him, yapping excitedly as he starts running in circles around him.

“Di’kut,” Boba says fondly. “Go on, I’m right behind you.”

Boba is a creature of habits. He wakes up early, drinks his caf, eats a light breakfast, and goes out on a walk with Kih’kyramud before it gets way too hot to put a foot outside. Din is usually with him for breakfast and Fennec will sometimes join them, but Boba always goes alone for his walk. He spent years living entirely alone on the Slave I and he wouldn’t go back to living on his own now that he got used to being around other people again, but Boba still needs some time to be alone with his thoughts.

Today, they keep cycling back to the kid.

Kih’kyramud reappears with a large womp rat in his mouth, trotting proudly towards Boba to show him his catch. Boba makes sure to praise him before the massiff swallows it whole and darts off again. Boba knows she doesn’t mind, but he still doesn’t want to let Fennec handle the kid on her own for too long when he was supposed to be his responsibility, so he starts making his way back towards the palace before he usually would.

He finds Fennec and the kid where he left them. She’s still busy reading those reports and the child is drawing on a datapad with a focused look on his face. Boba thinks he might have been worried for no reason when the kid shows him the datapad with a determined ‘Bah!’. The grey, green, red and yellow swirls and blobs don’t really speak to him, but Boba smiles at him anyway.

“Looking great, kid,” he praises him like Din usually does.

The kid growls angrily and throws the datapad across the room.

Boba was right to worry—he often is—because it gets worse.

Din is usually pretty good at figuring out what the kid wants or is trying to say, but he doesn’t know what’s wrong either. Boba has already accepted the fact that the kid simply hates him, but Din refuses to give up, which is why Boba isn’t surprised by the sight that welcomes him when he comes out of the ‘fresher. Din is sitting cross-legged on their bed and looking at his datapad with a frown on his face. It’s not exactly an unusual sight, Din likes to read before bed and Boba will often find him with his eyes glued to his datapad, engrossed in the last weird thing he decided to read about. But he usually looks a lot more relaxed.

Din looks like the opposite of relaxed right now. He’s worrying his thumb between his teeth, his brows furrowed as he scrolls on the datapad, and Boba doesn’t need to ask to know what he’s looking for.

The Holonet does have an answer for everything, this is something Boba knows intimately, because it was his teacher for years. He never looked for parenting advice, but he supposes Din should be able to find something useful in there.

At least he hopes so, because if he doesn’t, Boba already knows he’ll end up comming Skywalker to the rescue, and the last thing he wants is for the smug Jedi to show up and help them with this.

Boba flops down on the bed and rests his cheek against Din’s legs, closing his eyes with a satisfied hum when Din stops gnawing on his thumb to put his hand on the back of Boba’s head and gently massage his scalp.

“So, he might be jealous,” Din says after a while.

Boba opens his eyes and frowns.

“Jealous?”

“Yes. Apparently, I should have told him about the—change in our relationship,” Din says and it’s obvious he’s quoting whatever article he found. “It probably surprised and confused him, and he might feel like he’s being replaced.”

“Replaced,” Boba says, deadpan. “By me.”

Din shrugs. “I think I understand.”

“Enlighten me then.”

“Well,” Din says and looks down. “Did your father ever—did he have someone? After he had you?”

Boba’s first reaction is to snort, because imagining his father romantically involved with someone seems utterly ridiculous and pointless. Jango had his job and his contract with the Kaminoans and he had Boba. If he ever had—partners, he definitely never introduced them to his son. It was a long time ago, but Boba has no issues picturing how disastrous it would have b—oh.

“I think I understand too,” Boba admits ruefully.

Stars, he would have been insufferable. He would have hated having to share his father with anyone else. The thought makes him uncomfortable now, Boba doesn’t even want to think about how bad it would have been then.

Boba groans and presses his face against Din’s thigh. Kriff, now he feels bad. He’s been treating the kid like this was nothing more than a temper tantrum when he must have felt sad and lost and betrayed the whole time. This is why Boba can’t be trusted around children.

“Hey, it’s okay, we’ll talk to him in the morning, yeah?” Din whispers softly.

“I’ve been a dick to him the whole week,” Boba mutters against Din’s thigh.

“Well, to be fair, he’s been a dick to you the whole week as well,” Din says, stroking Boba’s scalp.

“He thinks I’m stealing you from him, I would have been upset too.”

Din hums and gently tugs on Boba’s ear to make him look up. Boba huffs and straightens up to find Din looking at him with an amused expression.

“Oh, you would have been such a terror,” Din whispers and leans in to press a kiss on his lips.

Boba huffs. “You don’t know what I was like as a kid,” he says.

“No, but I know you now,” Din grins. “It’s not hard to imagine.”

“Yeah?” Boba says, straightening up a bit more so he can crawl into Din’s space and force him to lean backward and unfold his legs. Din chuckles and flops on his back, dropping the datapad next to him while Boba settles between his thighs and nips at his jaw and chin before finding Din’s lips.

“You’re a bad person,” Boba rumbles, “taking pleasure in imagining me torturing people.”

Din snorts and wraps his arms around his neck. “So you admit you would have made their life a living nightmare.”

“Perhaps.” Yes. “Why does this amuse you so much?” he asks, shaking his head at the sheer joy he can see in his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Din laughs. “I just like picturing you small and angry. Well. Smaller.”

Boba narrows his eyes. “Oooh you think you’re funny, don’t you?” he whispers and stops holding himself up to flop down on top of him. Boba grins sharply at the squeaking sound Din lets out. “What are you going to do now, hmm?”

“Help,” Din croaks out exaggeratedly.

“You made fun of my size. Die.”

Din’s wheezing laugh echoes in his ear and steals his breath away. That’s a new one. Boba wraps his greedy fingers around it and holds it close to his chest.

“So… how should we do this?” Boba asks the next morning as he finishes securing Din’s left pauldron. “Do you want to talk to him alone?”

Din hums. “No, I think it’s best if you’re here as well. I don’t know. Do you want to be here?”

Boba shrugs. “I want to fix this.”

Din smiles softly and leans in to press their foreheads together. Boba closes his eyes and breathes out. He’s—a bit nervous. What if they can’t fix this? The kid isn’t here most of the time and Boba supposes he doesn’t mind making himself scarce whenever he visits Din, but what if this is actually hurting him?

The kid—the kid should be Din’s priority, right?

“Hey,” Din whispers softly. “You’re overthinking again.”

Boba scowls, but Din kisses him before he can say anything. “It’ll be fine. He liked you just fine before this; he’ll come around.”

“I guess,” Boba sighs.

Kih’kyramud whines loudly from the other side of the door. Boba rolls his eyes and gives Din one last kiss before pulling away to open the door. The massiff immediately rushes inside to run around them, whining and clacking his teeth to show just how much he disliked being locked outside of the bedroom all night.

“Calm down, you beast,” Boba rumbles at him. “That’s what you get for rolling in eopie shit yesterday.”

“He still smells a bit,” Din says, scrunching up his nose.

“I’ve given him two baths already,” Boba groans. “You’re a waste of water, you hear me?”

Kih’kyramud whines louder and presses his muzzle against Boba’s thigh. “Bastard. I need caf,” Boba mutters and heads towards the kitchen. “No,” he tells the massiff sternly when he tries to follow him. “You stay out of the kitchen. Sit.”

Kih’kyramud growls. “You sit your stinky ass down right now,” Boba orders firmly with a snap of his fingers. The massiff whines again, but he obeys, looking chastised.

“Kark’s sake,” Boba mutters and enters the kitchen, the sound of Din’s amused laugh following him. He starts brewing caf and making tea while Din gets the kid out of his room. The child is babbling quietly at Din when they enter the kitchen, and Boba finishes making tea for Din, pouring himself a cup of caf, and a glass of juice for the kid.

“So,” Din starts hesitantly. Boba puts the glass in front of the kid and hands Din his cup of tea. “There’s something we wanted to talk to you about.”

The child tilts his head and looks at his father expectantly.

“Right. You uh—you’ve been angry, lately.”

“Bah!” the kid exclaims, narrowing his eyes at Boba.

“Yes. Angry at Boba. You hum, noticed we got closer, yeah? And you don’t like that.”

The kid huffs and growls and shows his teeth threateningly. Boba stares at him blankly. Well, at least they found the reason.

“Right,” Din says. “I should have told you, I’m sorry we sprung this on you.”

The kid stops making angry noises. He looks at Din and coos softly at him before patting his cheek in a reassuring gesture. Din laughs and shifts his head to nuzzle the child’s tiny palm.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not mad at me, pal. But you don’t have to be mad at Boba either, okay? This doesn’t change anything between us,” Din explains calmly. The kid squints. Uh-oh. “There’s no reason for you to be jealous, okay?”

The kid huffs, his giant ears drooping in a sad expression. Boba can’t take it anymore.

“What he’s trying to say is that you’ll always be his first priority, so you don’t need to worry,” he tells him gruffly. “M’not competition, kid.”

That should reassure him, right? Din looks up and smiles at him. Boba buries his face in his cup of caf.

The glass of jogan fruit slides off the table and falls with a loud crash, spilling its content on the floor and breaking in pieces.

Boba blinks. “Did he just—”

“Grogu!” Din exclaims. The kid growls and wiggles out of his arms. Din tries to catch him, but the kid immediately hops off, ignoring his father’s worried exclamation and landing perfectly safely on the floor.

“Grogu! Come on pal, don’t be like this,” Din calls, standing up to go after him, but the kid runs surprisingly fast considering how short his legs are, and he reaches his room before Din has even made it out of the kitchen area. The door slides shut behind him and Din stills, his shoulder slumping.

Boba rubs his face and sighs.

Good talk.

The Holonet says they need to be patient, that he’ll come around. The old Togrutan Din gets his tea from at the market says the same, and all the traders who overheard their conversation apparently agreed with her. Your son just needs some time to get used to it, they said. Just be patient.

Boba can be patient.

He can wait for days for the right opportunity to capture or kill a target. He’s dealt with annoying customers while still managing to remain perfectly calm and professional.

Boba can be patient.

But the kid is upset and Din is sad and Boba is tired. They tried talking to the kid, they gave him some space, Boba did his best to be as nice as possible with him despite the kid’s attitude, but nothing has worked so far. In fact, Boba is pretty sure it’s just getting worse. The kid keeps trying to say something, that much is clear, but Din doesn’t seem to get what he means this time, and if Din doesn’t understand, well. Boba is screwed.

Boba groans and rubs his temples.

They don’t have a choice, do they? The kid is supposed to stay with them for a week and a half still, and Boba can’t stand to see Din looking so heartbroken everytime the kid throws a fit just because Boba is around.

Boba growls and presses the button on his vambrace to start the call. He waits.

“Skywalker,” the response comes right when Boba is about to give up. The Jedi sounds breathless, and there’s a lot of static coming from his end of the call.

“Skywalker. It’s Fett.”

Silence. “Fett. As in Boba Fett?”

Boba rolls his eyes. “You know any other Fett?”

Skywalker hums. “No, but you can’t be the only one in the galaxy, right?”

“Skywalker. This isn’t a social call.”

“Shit,” the Jedi hisses suddenly.

Boba blinks. “What?”

“Nothing,” Skywalker mutters. “Something bit me. It’s nothing.”

“Bit you. Where the kark are you?”

“On D’Qar, there’s an old Jedi Temple here, I’ve been meaning to explore it for a while and since I was around—uh, you said this wasn’t a social call. Why are you ca—ow! Ow, ow, kark!”

“Oh for kark’s sake, what’s going on, Skywalker?” Boba growls and stands up to start pacing.

There’s the sound of rustling and more cursing coming from the Jedi’s end. “This place is infested with insects, and they hurt!” Skywalker whines.

Boba pauses. “Skywalker. Did you get bitten by a bunch of venomous insects?”

“I don’t think they’re venomous,” Skywalker says, but it sounds like a question, and Boba wouldn’t normally care about a Jedi being stupid enough to get himself killed by a venomous bite on some backwater planet, but he happens to need this one right now.

“Get the kark out of here, you di’kut.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Skywalker hisses.

“Well, move faster.”

Skywalker grumbles, but Boba can hear him running out of whatever shithole he got into and he starts pacing again. What if he did get bitten by some venomous creature? Boba is pretty sure Skywalker is alone and he doesn’t trust him to have a properly stored medkit to deal with this kind of thing. Jedi tend to think the Force makes them invincible.

“Okay. Okay, I’m out and they didn’t follow me. Hm. They seem to fear sunlight, interesting.”

“Skywalker,” Boba growls. “Are you dying?”

“I don’t think so? No, I’m fine. Thanks for worrying, though.”

“I’m not worried,” Boba snaps. “Something’s wrong with the kid.”

“What?” Skywalker exclaims. “And you’re telling me now? I didn’t feel anything, the Force is clouded here but surely I would have felt something! Oh no, what happened?”

Boba winces. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean it like that. He’s fine. The kid’s fine, he’s with Din. He’s just—difficult. Unusually so. And I think he’s been trying to tell us something, but…”

“Oh,” Skywalker breathes. “Kark, you scared me!”

Boba grunts. He’s not apologizing to the Jedi.

Skywalker sighs. “Okay. How difficult? He has a temper, but he was really excited to spend some time with you two.”

And Boba ruined it. Great. He’s not discussing this over a karking comm call. Boba grabs the datapad on his desk and quickly looks for D’Qar before running the calculations.

“D’Qar isn’t far. Send me your location and we’ll bring the kid, you can tell us what’s wrong with him and we’ll deal with it.”

“Oh. Hum, sure.”

“Great. And for kark’s sake, make sure those insects aren’t venomous,” Boba growls and ends the call before Skywalker can reply.

Boba shuts down the engines of the Slave I and turns around to face Din and the kid dozing off in his arms.

“So?” Boba asks.

“He lost track of time. He says it’s safe to go out and explore a bit, he’s on his way.”

Boba scowls. Of fucking course. He does need to stretch his legs though, so Boba rises from his seat and gets down the ladder. Din follows him with the kid, and Boba opens the door. His HUD adjusts to the light when he steps outside, and Boba runs a scan to check their surroundings as he goes down the ramp. The scan picks up several life signs, but nothing big enough to resemble an actual threat.

A small noise makes him turn around. The kid is fully awake, looking around with big, curious eyes. His large ears keep twitching, probably picking up sounds Boba and Din can’t hear, and he starts sniffing the air and making excited little noises.

“Yeah? You like this place?” Din asks. “It is pretty nice.”

It is. The trees surrounding the clearing they landed in are so tall and dense it’s impossible to see the ruins they flew over earlier. Everything is bright and green and Boba is almost tempted to take off his helmet to take a deep breath of fresh air. He knows better than to let his guard down in unknown territories, though.

“Let’s take a look around?” Din suggests.

They move away from the Slave I, and the kid coos happily at the sight of Skywalker’s X-wing. He’s quickly distracted by something else though, his ears twitching as he starts wiggling in Din’s arms for him to let him down.

“What is it?” Din asks. The kid points a clawed finger at a large tree and Boba immediately shifts his HUD to check for a heat signature. He doesn’t find anything and exchanges a look with Din.

Din shrugs, and they make their way towards the direction the kid pointed. They go past the large tree when it becomes obvious it isn’t what the child is after, and continue walking deeper into the forest. They don’t need to go too far, as Boba finally sees what caught the kid’s interest.

“Of course,” Din chuckles at the sight of the large pond nestled between the trees.

The kid shrieks happily and starts wiggling again until Din puts him down. He immediately runs towards the pond and kneels next to it, his big eyes scanning the surface of the water.

Din shifts next to Boba, leaning slightly against him to watch the kid plunge his hands in the water and splash around happily. Boba snorts, warmth spreading across his chest at the sight. This is the first time the kid seems really happy since that first night, and he has to admit it feels good to see him like this.

A frog jumps out of the water and lands on a rock a bit further from the kid. It’s a big, ugly brown thing, and it croaks loudly, probably upset by the kid’s splashing. Boba already knows what will happen next, and isn’t surprised to see the creature suddenly flying through the air so fast it makes a squeaking sound before the kid catches it and shoves it into his mouth.

“Good job, kid,” Din praises him.

It’s actually kind of revolting to watch, even for Boba. The kid suddenly turns around, wiggling frog legs sticking out of his mouth.

“Ah, I knew I’d find you here.”

Boba starts and immediately tenses, clenching his teeth.

“Karking hells,” Din mutters.

“Jedi,” Boba hisses and turns around.

Skywalker is standing there, his hands clasped behind his back, feet slightly parted in a relaxed stance. His youthful face is schooled in a serious expression that is completely ruined by the bug bites covering his cheeks and neck.

“Hello,” Skywalker says politely.

Boba grunts, and watches the kid run by him while still struggling to swallow the rest of his frog.

“Slow down, little one,” Skywalker tells him gently. The kid pauses at his feet and swallows loudly. “Good. Now, what’s going on?”

The kid shrieks and immediately starts unleashing a torrent of baby noises and half-words on the Jedi. Skywalker frowns, visibly focusing on whatever the kid is communicating through the Force.

“Yes, that’s unfortunate, I know you tried to tell him,” Skywalker says. The corner of his mouth twitches. “Now, there’s no need to be rude, I’m sure they tried their best to understand you.”

Boba scowls. “What is he saying, Jedi?” he growls, but Skywalker waves him off.

Boba’s trigger finger twitches.

“Okay, what did you want to tell Mister Fett?” he asks.

The kid turns around to face Boba with a glare and starts babbling again. Boba has no idea what he’s saying, but he can’t help but feel like he’s being copiously insulted by a karking toddler. Skywalker makes a choking sound, and Boba looks up to find him struggling to keep his composure.

“What’s so funny, Skywalker?” Boba barks.

“Well, I hum. Congratulations?” the Jedi offers, a flush rising on his cheeks. “I think I see how that might have hum—surprised him?”

Din groans and squirms next to Boba, clearly embarrassed. Boba huffs and crosses his arms in front of his chest, shifting his feet to occupy more space and raising his chin.

“Grogu, jealousy is—” Skywalker starts saying, only to be interrupted by a loud, angry shriek. Skywalker blinks. “No? What is it, then?”

The kid points at Boba, growls and hisses and bares his teeth in a threatening expression. Boba is almost used to it by now, but he still deflates a bit at how angry the kid seems to be. Finally, the kid stops talking and crosses his tiny arms in front of his chest.

Boba shifts his gaze towards Skywalker.

The Jedi looks stunned. The sudden silence stretches between them and Boba’s skin crawls with the urge to grab Skywalker and shake him until he finally tells him what the kark is going on with the kid.

Skywalker is very still, and he looks so constipated Boba is starting to wonder if the insects that bit him weren’t venomous after all. His shoulders start shaking and Boba opens his mouth to ask him if he’s okay, when a sudden burst of laughter escapes the Jedi.

Boba freezes.

Skywalker throws his head back and howls, his whole body shaking as he tries desperately to hold back his laughter, but that only makes him snort and hiccup and look like he’s karking possessed.

“Skywalker!” Boba barks, his face suddenly feeling hot under his helmet.

“Oh, oh kark, oh I’m sorry, I don’t—” Skywalker gasps and bends forward with his hands on his thighs as he tries to catch his breath. “Oh I didn’t—I didn’t expect this, oh, Force.”

The kid grumbles, and for once, Boba is inclined to agree with him.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, okay, okay, I’m good,” Skywalker wheezes and wipes his face with the back of his hand. He takes a deep, calming breath. “So, Grogu isn’t jealous.”

Boba grits his teeth.

“Okay, what is it then?” Din urges him.

“What Grogu has been trying to say—Force, yes, I got it, young one,” Skywalker mutters before looking at Boba. “Fett, he wants you to know that if you hurt Mister Mandalorian, or make him sad, he’ll snap you in half.” The kid hisses. “Like a twig,” Skywalker adds while the kid mimics the gesture and bares his teeth. “Yes, we’ll talk about this later, I do not approve—anyway, that’s it.”

Boba blinks.

What. The kark.

Din makes a choking sound next to him. “He—he was trying to—”

“Give Fett the airlock talk?” Skywalker says with a grin. “Yes. And he was very upset he couldn’t get his message across.” He looks down at the kid. “But it’s done now, and I’m sure Mister Fett cares a lot about Mister Mandalorian and will do his very best to treat him right, so there’s no need to be angry with him anymore, right?”

It’s Boba’s turn to choke. The kid was—oh, kark. Boba scrambles to switch off the output of his helmet to muffle the laugh he can’t hold back any longer. He thought the kid hated him, but he was just looking out for Din the whole time. Boba shakes his head, struggling to regain his composure.

“Message received, kid,” Boba rumbles once he’s sure he’s not going to burst into laughter. Considering how hard Grogu fought to get his message across, the least Boba can do is take him seriously.

The kid blinks and tilts his head.

“Bah!” he exclaims and walks over to Boba, almost tripping in his hurry, before planting himself at his feet and looking up expectantly. Boba bends down to grab him and brings him close to his chest.

The kid pats his helmet and coos softly. Boba feels the tension he’s been accumulating over the past week seeping out of him and sighs in relief.

“Tell you what, I’ll teach you how to shoot so you can put a bolt through my eyes if that ever happens,” he tells him.

Skywalker chokes, but the kid coos happily and Boba grins before looking at Din. “You think I can find a blaster small enough?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Din chuckles and leans in to press his forehead against his.

Boba closes his eyes and basks in the gesture. “Let’s go home.”

“You’re welcome,” Skywalker mutters.

“Your services are no longer needed, Jedi,” Boba says cheerfully before heading back to the Slave I, the kid cradled against his chest.

“Thank you,” he hears Din say hurriedly behind him. “See you next week.”

“Do not teach Grogu how to shoot!” Skywalker shouts.

Boba snickers.