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Well, this isn’t how Din expected date night to go.
Once the silencer is on his pistol, Din slowly clears every room upstairs before heading down. He starts at the back door, then slowly moves down a hallway, pistol high.
Faintly, he hears creaking from the stairs. He pauses, grabs a picture of him and Luke, and lifts it, looking at the reflection.
Luke stares back at him from the top of the stairs, shotgun aimed at the wall Din is hiding behind.
Din just barely ducks in time, as a hole is blown into the wall. Luke pumps the shotgun, fires again, again.
Empty shells roll down the stairs as Luke pauses, and the house fills with silence again.
“… You still alive, cyare?” Luke calls, his tone teasing. Din fake groans, fumbling his gun against the ground for a second, before sharply standing and firing at Luke from the hole in the wall. He catches a glimpse of Luke tucking and rolling down the stairs to hide in the corner before he drops his clip to reload another.
Quickly, he walks back down the hallway as Luke fires at the wall blindly, leaving more holes and destroying Din’s favorite bookcase.
He loops back around, cocks his pistol, and turns sharply down another hallway, firing at Luke as he slides into cover, blindly firing.
Luke’s aim sucks.
Thankful for all the hallways in the house, he uses one to reload again while Luke goes silent. He silently walks down said hallway, his gun up. Din notes the sound of the shotgun reloading as he slowly walks toward the other end of the hallway—
And then knocks a tea pot with his fucking elbow. Frantically, he fumbles it in his hand for a few seconds before he’s fully able to tighten his fingers around it.
The top falls off, and Din clenches his eyes shut as it shatters on the ground.
He hears Luke snort, so Din ducks just as a hole explodes in the wall.
Din runs back down the hall as Luke shoots the wall again, throwing himself at the ground and sliding into the kitchen and firing at Luke all the way. Luke switches to his machine gun, so Din forces himself up and opens the fridge door as Luke unloads on it.
He’s suddenly thankful Luke forced him to buy a stainless steel fridge.
Ducking behind the island, Din is showered with fruit chunks and juice as Luke blind fires into the kitchen.
Din pulls open the knife drawer, searching through it, “you know, maybe you can’t hit me because you’re vegetarian.” He calls, finding a cleaver. Luke pauses to reload, “you know, don’t eat meat, can’t kill it?”
Din lifts his head and throws the cleaver. It wedges into the doorframe where Luke’s head was.
Thinking quickly, gas, bullets, fire, he pulls the gas line out.
“That’s saying something, don’t you think?” He teases. Din watches as Luke’s shoulder, the only thing he can see, lifts in a deep breath, before he turns and unloads another clip, firing directly at the gas pipe.
Immediately, an explosion, thankfully small, forces Luke to drop his gun and duck for cover.
Din forces himself up, rushing around the island, and he bursts through the fire, knee first.
Luke grunts as the air is knocked out of his lungs, and he flies back into a wall. Din knees him again and throws an elbow at his head. Luke, unfortunately, quickly recovers, ducking under his elbow. He rises up and throws his elbow back into Din’s head, and pushes him back into a hallway. Luke shoves him into a table and onto the ground, turning to grab a glass serving tray. Din blocks it with his elbow as Luke lifts it over his head and brings it down.
Din grabs him by the front of his shirt, and slams him into one wall, then the over, backing up. He throws Luke over the table, watching as Luke rolls over the table and takes a chair with him as he falls off.
Walking around the table calmly, Din rolls his sleeves up, “come on baby.” He teases, putting his fists up as Luke gets up to all fours. “Come to buir.”
Luke whips around and smacks him in the face with something metal wrapped in the table cloth, wraps the cloth around the back of his neck, head butts him, and kicks him into the china cabinet, all in under five seconds. Din falls on his ass, blinking frantically to clear the stars out of his vision.
“Who’s your buir now?” Luke teases back, breathless. He sprints off, towards his gun, and Din stumbles up to chase him.
He slides, kicking the gun away as Luke grabs it. Din tackles him, but Luke immediately straddles him and throws a few punches. It takes longer than Din would like to admit to recover, but he does, and he grabs Luke and flips them. He scrambles to pin Luke’s arms, but Luke grabs his tie, and yanks, choking Din and pulling his head down. Luke’s arm wraps around his neck from behind, his legs tighten around Din’s waist, and he holds onto Din.
Still struggling for air, Din lifts them both up and swings around violently, trying to throw Luke off of him. He slams Luke into their grandfather clock, and then into a wall with a mirror and table. Luke lets go, panting for breath as Din loosens his tie.
Luke looks up at him for a brief second, then grabs two glasses and smashes them both on either side of his head, making sure to smack his palms into Din’s ears to discombobulate him.
He wraps back around Din, and he stumbles back as Luke slams his elbow into Din’s shoulder. Din punches him in the kidney until he trips over the couch and falls.
Luke stands over him and punches him over and over until Din manages to reach up and throw him down.
Din stands up, and starts kicking him, until Luke kicks him in the balls. Din lets out an undignified grunt mixed with a yelp, clutches his merchandise, and falls next to him.
They both struggle to get up for a little. Once they're both up, Din snaps back into a fighting stance, while Luke leans on his knees and glares up at him, panting.
Luke’s eyes flick over to the gun. Immediately, Din lunges over the couch as Luke rolls over to the fireplace and pulls a pistol out. Din pumps the shotgun and aims it right between Luke’s eyes.
Everything stops. Din and Luke stare into each other’s eyes, but Din can’t pull the trigger.
This is his husband. His love.
Din lowers his shotgun slightly, to get a better view of his husband. He wants to wipe the blood off Luke’s cheekbone.
“I can’t do it.” He says.
“Don’t!” Luke immediately snaps between clenched teeth, lifting the gun higher, “come on!”
Din doesn’t move. Just stares at him. Luke jerks his pistol again, “ come on!!”
“Do it, then.” Din says, “I won’t stop you.”
Luke’s bottom lip trembles, his angry face melting into one of distress.
Quickly, Din smacks the pistol out of his hands, cups his face, and smashes their lips together.
Fuck the mission, fuck everything.
All he needs is Luke, he thinks, as they both frantically tear the clothing off their bruised bodies.