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Din wasn’t sure how he found himself here. No, he knew exactly how he found himself here. Boba and Fennec, those absolutely terrible influences, and Peli, the enabler who offered to sit for his– for Grogu. It was Boba and Fennec's third engagement party in so many months. Din thought maybe they didn’t need to use such an elaborate excuse to throw a party, but he didn’t know too much about throwing parties anyway. What he wasn’t sure of was how he got so drunk. What was in that punch anyway?
“I think about five different forms of booze, and maybe a hint of fruit juice,” the man in front of him said.
Oh. He said that out loud.
“I don’t normally drink this much,” Din said over the music.
The man he found himself talking to was blonde and shorter than him, and was now smiling fondly up at him. Din thought desperately that he was pretty, and the bulk hidden beneath the sleeves of his very soft looking sweater suggested a secret strength about him too. Oh, no . Din wondered if he would let Din touch. The sweater, of course. The sweater.
“Special occasion?” Luke asked.
Din snorted. It was probably incredibly unattractive. Why was he socializing with strangers instead of reading his son to sleep again? No. Grogu.
“You could say that,” Din said.
“Oh!” The man, juggling his drink, held out a gloved hand to him. “I’m Luke, by the way.”
“Din,” he said, and somehow wound up grabbing Luke’s right hand with his left in a very awkward non-handshake. Din swore he was a normal person just a few hours ago, but now he was going to be devoured by the blush threatening to consume his whole entire body.
“Din,” Luke echoed, laughing at him, but it wasn’t mean, and he was just… so pretty. Din took a sip of his drink to keep himself from saying that out loud, and he noticed that Luke was dancing, his hips moving to the music. “What’s the special occasion?”
“I don’t know how to dance,” Din said, the question not registering.
“You're dancing now.” Luke’s eyebrow raised at him, and Din realized it was true. The music and drink had gotten to him and he was moving along with the beat, mirroring Luke’s body.
“I don’t normally drink this much. Or talk this much.”
Luke laughed lightly again. “You’ve said.”
“Sorry,” Din said, but still took another drink.
“Don’t apologize,” Luke assured him. “Something tells me you deserve to cut loose every once in a while.”
“Maybe,” Din said, staring into his cup. “My foster kid is getting adopted,” he blurted out without thinking. “He’s a good kid, he deserves a family who can take care of him. Something steady. But I’m going to miss him.”
“Sounds like you do deserve that drink, then.”
“Maybe,” Din said again, this time looking up and cracking a smile at Luke. “I don’t really want to talk about that anymore, though. I think I like dancing now.”
Luke grinned and started dancing harder, and Din followed suit, losing himself to the music. Eventually, they were breathing hard and close in each other’s space.
“You’re very pretty,” Din blurted out. Dank ferrik. Luke ducked his head and hid a smile under his hand. It was unfairly cute, and Din’s lizard brain determined that he had no choice but to lean forward and kiss him, just a single firm press for a few seconds before pulling away.
Luke’s eyes were wide and he was half covering his mouth, but he was smiling and blushing so it couldn’t have been too bad of a kiss. Except–
“What’s uh,” a brown-haired man said, slinging an arm around Luke, “What’s going on here?”
“Oh,” Din said, realizing his grave error. Of course Luke was taken. Why wouldn’t he be? And Din didn’t even didn’t even ask before kissing him!
“I don’t do this often,” Din said at the same time as Luke said, “He doesn’t do this often.”
Luke’s boyfriend, or– oh, those were rings. Luke’s husband, oh, fuck, was about the same height as Din, had shaggy brown hair and a cocky smile that made Din burn. He was attractive; they made a good couple, he thought bitterly.
“I’m sorry I kissed him.”
“You should be sorry. Stealing my poor husband’s virtue like that.”
“Han,” Luke reprimanded, slapping him on the chest lightly.
But– they were both grinning and standing close to him. Din realized this Han person was fucking with him, and Din wanted to fuck with him right back. Besides, it was only fair. So without warning, he pushed forward, grabbing Han by the lapels, and drew him into a kiss.
When he pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Han was indeed stunned, mouth hanging open, blushing high on his cheeks. Din felt vindicated, all things considered. And Luke didn’t look upset either, smiling up at Han, looking entirely besotted.
Han snapped out of it when Luke leaned up to kiss him on the cheek and whisper something in his ear. Han quickly grinned at him, leaning forward to kiss him on the lips.
“So what’s got you kissing strangers at a party thrown by people who should have clearly been married years ago?” Han asked, not even acknowledging the kiss, which just wasn’t fair.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Din said at the same time as Luke said, “He doesn’t want to talk about it.”
Din glared at Luke who was grinning cheekily at him. His vision was starting to get a bit hazy, memory drifting in and out at this point.
“They really should be married by now,” Din said. “I think they just like the parties.”
Han laughed, brightening his face. “I think you’re right about that.”
Din felt himself getting dangerously close to either laughing with him or kissing them again, so instead he decided he did want to talk about it. Maybe he deserved to be annoyed because he loved his kid and he’d adopt him if he could, but the bureaucracy around legal adoption wouldn’t let him.
“My son. My foster son is getting adopted,” he stated. “By some professor and his tiktoker influencer husband. They seem nice in their application essays, I guess. I didn’t even know what TikTok was until my kid showed me some… dancing video? But apparently it’s an actual profession.” Han and Luke looked genuinely shocked by this information. Finally, people who understood him. “I know! And furthermore –” he started, leaning forward.
The next thing Din knew, he was waking up in his bed, Grogu sleeping soundly next to him, and he was nursing a wicked hangover, his entire body feeling like an old worn down tire. Things started coming back in flashes as he buried his head in his pillow. The party, the ridiculously boozy punch, Luke– dancing with Luke, kissing Luke, kissing his husband, ranting about the kid getting adopted, then… after that, just the barest flashes. Throwing up in Boba’s toilet, hands rubbing at his back and at some point later guiding him into a car.
Without raising his head, knowing already that the sun would do evil, evil things to his headache, he pawed around to find his phone and discovered it stowed beneath his pillow. He risked the brightness to check the screen, and– oh. Oh, no. He had texts.
Oh, he was never going to live this down, he thought. Still, he found himself smiling into his pillow after he plugged his phone into the charger and stuffed it back under his pillow. He pulled Grogu further into his arms and buried his face in his hair, drifting back off to sleep, thinking that maybe, just maybe, they’d be okay.