Work Text:
The first time he saw them, Din felt like he was being swallowed by a sinkhole.
They were new. New to the apartment complex, new to his life. And it felt like they bent the light around them. They were a black hole in the center of his galaxy. The air bent around them, the entire floor felt heavy. More weighted. Compressed.
Din didn't think he'd mind if it crushed him. He didn't think he'd care if those dark hazel eyes were the last thing he saw.
And that's all he could think about on the Hunt. All that was running through his mind was silver hair, heavy clothes, that thick scarf. He smelled the metallic tang of blood, heard a scream, tried bringing himself back to the moment. But he couldn't. He kept thinking and wondering and his mind would not stop .
Even as he rinsed his hands clean in the sink, bleached his floors, burned clothes, called Omera to make sure Grogu was fine, he couldn't get his neighbor out of his mind.
It wasn't obsession. Not quite. He wasn't sure what it was. But he knew. He knew they were like him. Different, but similar. They were important.
~~~
Running into them in the middle of the night, stomping out the ashes of his old clothes wasn't exactly what Din would call a good first impression.
And, okay, to be fair, they were out smoking. Din wasn't sure quite what they were smoking, but he figured there was a bit of solidarity on the whole burning things front.
They'd come up from behind him, smoke hanging in the air. Neither their coat or their scarf moved with the wind. They stared where Din's bloodied clothes had once been.
It was refreshing. The blank look they gave the charred ground. The way they took another drag of their cigarette. The few seconds of eye contact that they held with him, almost like they knew exactly what he was. Exactly who he was. Almost like they knew that he'd Hunted- no, killed someone hours before.
Under the dim orange light of a back-alley streetlamp, Din felt like he was being suffocated. It wasn't until the stranger had left- without a word- that he let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.
~~~
"You ever been to the desert?"
It had become routine, every few weeks, after a Hunt, they'd meet. Din didn't see the stranger outside, and was pretty sure they didn't ever leave their apartment. But without fail, every night he was returning, they'd show up, smoke a bit, watch evidence burn alongside him, then walk away. They never spoke, they never offered a name.
They left no trace. But the pavement always seemed more sandy then it had been before.
And then, for some godforsaken reason, they asked him if he'd been to the desert. It was a stupid question. Small enough to be ignored, but somehow so monumental.
Din made a noncommittal noise. They took another drag. The streetlight above flickered. Din briefly wondered if they'd been Hunted before. By the time he'd turned around to ask, all that he could see was the drape of that thick coat.
~~~
Their name was Cobb. He learned it when a concerned neighbor asked if he'd seen them out. He said yes.
He hadn't.
No one had.
~~~
It wasn't something he should care about.
It wasn't something he should have ever cared about.
Din wanted to know more. He needed to. They were entirely shut off. He respected that. He wanted to know why. He wanted to see.
He wanted to know them. Wanted to watch the way they moved. Wanted to see the way their mustache curled on the rare occasions they smiled- all cold, never fully reaching their eyes. The way they looked surprised when they did the first time.
Lord, he hoped he hadn't imagined the way it'd gone warm, the way they'd leaned into him, if only just a tad bit more.
He hoped they felt the same way.
~~~
"Ya never answered." Their voice was smooth. Weighted, like everything else about them. There was a faint accent. Din thought he might drown in their voice. Thought he might be fine diving headfirst into the deep with no gear.
"... Answered what, again?"
They hummed and flicked a lighter. Their telltale breaths- in and out and in again. Their heartbeat.
Did they know? Did they know how fucking insane they made him? How every moment of peace he had- time where he truly felt like his head was his own, was spent thinking about them? That Din had seriously and utterly wondered how well they'd do with children. If they'd be willing to help with the Hunt. If they'd be willing to share a life with him.
"You ever been to the desert?"
The question was heavy, Din didn't know how, but he knew it was.
"Not the way you're talking about, I don't think."
"Hm."
And that was that. The ashes of Din's old clothes blew away, they finished their cigarette, and the two parted ways again.
Din wanted to hear them talk more, if only for a bit.
~~~
He didn't know what he'd expected, honestly.
Grogu had been the first person in the building to successfully get them- Cobb , to open their door willingly. Din supposed it was a great feat.
What he hadn't expected was how it was handled.
He'd tried, he'd really, really tried to keep Grogu from knocking on the door. Hell- he wasn't sure Cobb was a safe person for his son to be near , but the kid had managed to get the slip on him when he wasn't paying attention, and before Din knew it, he heard a door swing open, was met with in extremely irritated looking Cobb, who's face almost instantly softened when they saw the kid.
The hallway was silent. Grogu waved, looking up at Cobb with big eyes.
And that was it.
Whatever walls they'd built up, whatever cold, lonely exterior they'd had, cracked.
Cobb smiled , one of the real, actual, warm ones. They huffed a small laugh and waved back. Grogu started signing at them, and yes, they definitely had no clue what he was saying, but they didn't look at him wrong, or like he was incorrect for not talking. Just with mild intrigue.
Din's breath caught in his throat and-
Oh.
Oh.
He was in love.
Fuck.
~~~
After that, something shifted. He wasn't sure how, but he knew it did. He'd be going to the store, maybe running an errand or two, and somehow, everytime without fail, Cobb would be leaving at the same time. To the same place. If Din hadn't known better, he'd say he was being stalked.
He knew he wasn't.
They'd ask to come along, he'd agree, and somehow they always ended up spending the entire day together. It didn't matter if Grogu had tagged along or was staying with a friend, the day almost always ended better than it started (and yes, they were good with kids. Din thought his heart couldn't have taken much more the day Cobb gave the kid something- a little handmade frog. It looked knitted, but he wasn't sure.)
It was refreshing. They knew what he was. He knew what they were, and they never discussed it. Silently became friends, and never talked about anything much more important than the weather.
They still had their moments of silence in the nights after a Hunt, but even these had changed. Cobb would lean into him, hold his upper arm, and for a brief moment, Din could pretend it was something else- maybe a date, maybe not. But then the flames would die down, Cobb would put out their cigarette, and they would both retreat to their homes.
Din always had to rinse himself of sand on those nights.
~~~
"I never woulda guessed you had a kid."
"Oh."
"Not complainin', he's a sweet thing. Just never pegged you as the type."
"I found him on a Hunt."
"Hm."
"Hm?"
"Nothin'. He like the frog?"
"Won't put it down."
~~~
The first time Din saw the interior of Cobb's apartment was the day he was helping them move into his own. Greef had increased rent, Cobb offhandedly mentioned it was getting expensive to stay there, and Din wasn't about to leave a friend to hang dry.
He wasn't about to lose the one person who understood him without having to ask.
So they were moving in. Roommates.
And, god, Cobb had a lot of stuff. Mostly trinkets. Some plants. Lots of books and tapestries and blankets. Thick, velvet curtains blocked the sun out. Their home was cozily claustrophobic.
Din had no clue how they managed to get everything in here. He could have sworn that they'd only brought a bag or two up on that first day. Maybe they'd moved everything in slowly. It was a lot.
It fit in Din's apartment, and he thought it made the place look better. More lived in. More like a home.
He didn't know when or how, but at some point Cobb wasn't on the couch anymore. Their weighted blankets and puffy quilts moved to his bed. And Cobb was so, so warm. They curled into his side perfectly, like they were supposed to be there, and Din never had to worry about waking up cold.
~~~
"I think it happened when I fell to one of those caverns."
"What?"
"The Centre."
"Oh."
"Maybe it was before that, though. When I was a youngin. I think it might've always been there."
"I'm sorry?"
"Why?"
"I'm sorry."
~~~
Cobb was, apparently, good at everything. They cooked, they knitted, they knew their way around a decent number of weapons, they were a great parent, they picked up on sign language really quickly.
They were asleep next to him. He glanced at their lips and wondered if they were good at kissing.
~~~
"Y'ever smoked before?" They asked after a Hunt. Their hand was warm around Din's arm, and he wasn't sure he could think about anything else.
"No. Not recently, at least."
"Do you wanna try? I can help."
And how could he refuse that?
"Sure."
He should've known what was going to happen the second Cobb turned to look at him through those long eyelashes, wearing one of those small, secret smiles. Should've known the second they told him to breathe in when they exhaled. He should've seen it coming when they took a long drag of the cigarette, and pressed their foreheads together.
It still struck him like lightning when they pressed their lips to his. He nearly forgot to breathe. He barely felt their arms wrap up and over his shoulders. Barely even knew his hands were on their hips. Barely heard them whisper to take deep breaths.
When they pulled apart he was breathless. They pressed their face into the crook of his neck, soft nicknames falling from their lips. He barely remembered the Hunt. He barely cared.
It turned out that they were great at kissing.
~~~
"What's it like?"
"What's what like?"
"Hunting."
"Oh. It's… all I've known."
"Yeah, course it is hun, but what's it like ?"
"It's exciting. Exhilarating. Like you."
"You sure do know how to make a lady feel special, huh?"
"It's only the truth."
~~~
Sometimes it felt like Cobb was trying to get as far away from everything as possible. Sometimes it felt like they were trying to run themself into the ground. Sometimes the weight they carried into the room with them was suffocating. Claustrophobic. Made the walls cave in around them.
But most of the time- most of the time it was so warm. So loving. So comfortable and cozy. It felt like home, most of the time.
Din wondered if that's what Cobb had felt like the one time they'd asked him to hug them until they could barely breathe. Wondered if the way they'd looked at him, all love and comfort and unspoken 'i love yous', reflected on the way the apartment felt less empty. He wondered if it reflected on the way that the bits of sand that always seemed to find their way into the corners of their home stayed there. Wondered if it made the apartment feel more lived in. Feel more like theirs.
That night, Din slept sounder than he thought he ever had before, Cobb clinging to his side under those piles and piles of blankets that never seemed to be too hot.
~~~
"What about you?"
"What about me, darlin'?"
"What's it like for you? The Forever Deep?"
"..."
"You don't have to answer."
"Nah, jus' thinkin'."
"Alright."
"I guess it's self explanatory. It's crushing. Heavy. Sometimes makes me feel like I'll suffocate any second."
"Is that it?"
"No, lord, no. Sometimes it's kind. Sometimes it's warm."
"Is it normally?"
"Nah, normally, I'd say it's a big comfort. I'd say its home. I'd say it's a lot like you."