Archive of Our Own ^beta

“It’s strange, isn’t it?”

Luke raises an eyebrow, his drink halfway to his lips as he looks over at where his friend has just sat down beside him.

Biggs was still wearing his uniform, an easy grin on his face as he drops his hat down on the bartop, raising a hand to signal for service. Luke had changed out of his before coming to the flyers lounge, never having been a fan of the attention he attracted when he showed up with his wings on.

Although, he thinks, taking a savoury sip of the pleasantly dry Chardonnay he’d ordered, that wasn’t going to be something he’d have to worry about anymore.

“What’s strange?” he drawls, giving in and taking whatever bait Biggs was laying out.

“You finished your last flight,” his best friend says with his usual combination of light teasing and complete lack of tact. “You’re a civvie now, Skywalker. It’s strange, yeah?”

The feeling that comes over him isn’t exactly sadness, he’s had the time to come to terms with his early retirement, but a wash of something melancholic hits him regardless at his friends’ words. Luke thinks of the folded blazer in his travel luggage and the pilots' licence that was going to quietly expire at the end of the year. A career ended, years of his life gone, and not with a bang, but with what he would hardly call a fizzle.

“I guess so,” Luke forces a laugh before taking another long pull from his drink. He twists the stem of the wineglass between his fingers, spinning it slowly. “Just means that you’ll have to do some actual flying for once, Darklighter.”

Biggs snorts, knocking his shoulder into Luke's, “You’re an ass, Skywalker. Never change.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Luke hides his grin behind the rim of his glass. It feels false. Wooden. Luckily for him, Biggs doesn’t seem to notice, his attention stolen by the group of chatty flight attendants that just waltzed into the flyers lounge. “You flying back tonight or are you gonna bunk up at a hotel?”

“Uh,” Biggs hums, wandering eye still distracted. “Stayin’ here for tonight. Going to deadhead it back to Chicago tomorrow morning. You’re staying here though, right?”

Luke shakes his head, “My sister invited me to go out and stay with her and her husband for a while. Figured some time with family would do me good.”

Biggs turns his gaze back towards him and Luke immediately wishes that he hadn’t, the soft and pitying look on his face far worse than any indifference. Logically, he knows it’s just because Biggs cares, but it stings at the sad and aching part of Luke’s heart like a swarm of angry bees.

“That’s a good idea, man,” Biggs nods. “One last jumpseat, huh?”

“Nope,” Luke says, his lips twisting up into a wry smile. “You said it yourself, Biggs, I’m just another passenger now. Got a ticket and everything. Speaking of which,” he tips his glass back, draining the last of his wine in one bitter gulp. “I better head over to my gate, boarding starts soon.”

It doesn’t. Pre-boarding for his flight doesn’t even start for another half an hour, but if he had to sit here next to Biggs any longer and talk around the fact that he can’t fly anymore Luke was going to lose it.

Biggs stands alongside him as Luke pushes off his barstool, his friend reaching out with one hand to grab at his arm and pull him into a rough hug. “Stay safe, alright? I’m just a call away if you ever need anything. Even if you just want to shoot the shit.”

The smile that works its way onto his face is a real one this time, and Luke gently pats Biggs on the back before stepping away from the embrace. “I will,” he promises. “Thank you, Biggs.”

He quickly grabs his jacket from the back of his chair, tugging it on and pulling his wallet out from the pocket, setting down enough to cover his drink and whatever Biggs plans to order. From on the ground beside his chair, Luke picks up his carry-on bag and slings it over his shoulder. He turns, giving Biggs a small, two-fingered salute and putting on his best ‘everything is fine’ smile.

“Catch ya later,” he chirps, heading out towards the lounge door, trying not to look as if he’s running away- which he was most certainly not.

“Hey, Luke,” Biggs starts as he takes a few steps away, stopping him in his tracks. Luke feels a sickly swooping feeling in his stomach, his desperation to leave this conversation growing by the second, but he turns back anyways, because Biggs is his best friend. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

Putting his lips together, Luke shrugs, hating how his words feel stuck in his throat, unpleasant emotion taking hold of him. “S’okay,” he rasps. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know. Still doesn’t mean I’m not sorry to see it happen.”

‘I don’t want your condolences’, is the first thought that rings loudly through his head, simmering hot and spiteful. He’d never say it out loud, but he hates that he thought it in the first place. Biggs doesn’t deserve his anger, even in his mind. Instead, Luke nods, the only thing he can think to do, and pivots on his heel back towards the door. He can feel Biggs’ eyes on him. Can feel the concernworrypity drilling holes into his back. A mixture of sadness, guilt and shame runs down Luke’s back like ice water.

He’d thought he was doing better. That, all things considered, he was holding up okay.

Maybe he hadn’t come to terms with his retirement as much as he’d thought.

–

The terminal out front of his gate is blessedly empty, par for the course for most redeye flights, but Luke appreciates the quiet of it nonetheless. He drops his bag down onto one of the uncomfortable leather seats, choosing one nearby to a charging port just in case, and then slumps down heavily onto the one next to it.

A long, tired exhale forces its way from his lungs. He’ll have to text Biggs later and apologize for being in such a mood, but as for right now, Luke knows that he has to shut his brain off for a little while. Think of anything but their roundabout conversation in the lounge, or else he’ll end up stewing over it all night.

He pulls his phone from his bag, searching for a distraction. He’s got one notification from Leia, wishing him a good flight and to text her when he lands. He sends her back a thumbs-up emoji and powers his phone down. The thought of reaching out to anyone else just makes him feel itchy. What was there to say? Fire off a ‘hello’ and get more ‘sorries’ in return because that’s all anybody can seem to say to him anymore? ‘Hi, Luke! Sorry, your body decided to turn against you and you had to leave your dream job! That sucks man!’

Luke bites back a groan of frustration, realizing that he’s just gone and done what he said that he hadn’t wanted to do, getting sucked into the spiral of wallowing in his self-pity and anger.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Luke looks around at the few other scattered souls waiting for the flight to start boarding. A woman is rocking a baby in the corner, looking about as tired as Luke feels, across from her is a young couple who are snuggled together in a way that makes him feel vaguely sick. Lastly, just in front of their gate, sits a lone man who may quite possibly be the most attractive human being that Luke has ever seen in his entire life.

It’s actually a bit startling, to turn his head and have the breath be stolen from his lungs, driving away all of his other thoughts and replacing them with static as Luke’s mind reboots in the face of seeing all his daydreams manifested.

The man looks to be about Luke's age, perhaps a few years older judging by the few handsome streaks of pepper that mix into his fluffy, dark hair. He’s staring down at his phone, thick eyebrows drawn together as he reads, and Luke silently despairs over the fact that he can’t get a good look at the man's eyes. He’s always been a sucker for a pair of soft eyes. But even so, his lamenting doesn’t get to last for long, as his subject shifts in his seat, treating Luke to the sight of his shirt pulling taught over the broad line of his shoulders.

If Luke wasn’t already sitting, he’d have had to.

He kind of feels like he has whiplash with how fast his head is spinning. Just a few moments ago he was being bombarded, fighting against the wave-like crashing of his tumultuous thoughts. Now, he’s half certain that he’s fallen in love at first sight with the mustachioed mystery man sitting before him. His mind is aswirl, unable to focus on nothing but the sternum-cracking staccato of his heart pounding against his chest and the stormy heat bubbling in his gut.

Shifting uneasily in his seat, Luke knows that he should probably go and get a drink of water or something. Tamp down the burning feeling coursing through his body. His face feels flushed. Maybe he shouldn’t have had that wine, his doctor had warned him that alcohol could make him feel a bit off-balanced during the first few months.

Taking a deep breath, Luke lets himself have one more moment to look over the man, drinking in the defined curve of his jawline, the long stretch of his legs and the strong flex of his hands. He loathes to look away, but all good things must come to an end.

It’s at that moment, of course, that the man looks up from his phone. Glancing around like he’s just heard his name being called, he turns his head and locks eyes with Luke.

The first thought that crosses Luke’s mind is that, ‘his eyes are stunning’.

His second thought is a loud and resounding, ‘shit’.

The man doesn’t have any noticeable outward reaction, but Luke knows that it's clear what he had been doing. That he was caught staring, checking this guy out like some sort of airport creeper.

Instinctually he adverts his gaze, breaking the eye contact and frantically searching around for something else to put his focus on as the fringes of embarrassment grasp at his already harried nerves. He’s a grown man, he should know better than to gawk and awe over some hot guy in public. His only consolation is that he hadn’t started drooling like some lovesick teenager.

His eyes flit around nervously, never landing on one spot for long as he tries to regain a portion of his dignity.

Clock. Baby-stroller. Empty coffee cup. Dog carrier.

Brown eyes.

With a jolt, Luke realizes that, unbidden to himself, his eyes have found their way back towards the mystery man, drawn to him like magnets. What comes as even more of a shock, however, is the fact that it doesn’t seem like the other man has taken his eyes away from Luke at all. His curious stare still focused on Luke’s face.

The air around him suddenly feels fuzzy, teeming with an electricity that makes the hairs on his arms stand up, and Luke is left with the very distinct impression that whatever he decides to do here next, whatever choice he makes, will have a profound impact on life as he knows it.

Heart still beating wildly, Luke debates taking the coward's way out. He could look away, pull his phone back out and tell the universe that he’s done with life-changing events being thrown at him, he’s had enough of them.

Or, he could go over there and talk to the guy.

Luke breaks their eye contact again, rubbing his clammy hands against the rough fabric of his jeans as he takes another deep, steely breath and pushes himself up from his seat.

The confused look that had been on the other man's face melts away, one side of his mouth ticking up into a small smile as Luke takes the few, short steps over to him, weaving through the sea of empty chairs. He leans back, lounging casually as he watches Luke approach, like strangers approaching him in an airport is something that happens to him every day. For all Luke knows, maybe it does, but there is something new that’s filtered into his expression, something that wasn’t there before when they had first locked eyes. It’s something sharp. Guarded, his brain supplies. It’s a rational reaction, but Luke is keenly aware of the shift in energy between them, as he goes from being the observer to the observed.

But, as he comes to a stop at the other man's feet, the small hint of a smile that he’s greeted with is no less polite, despite the hesitancy behind those dark, molten eyes.

Close as he is now, his view of the other wholly unobstructed, Luke can start to pick out the small details of his strangers' features that he wasn’t able to before. The slight curl to the ends of his hair. The strong, handsome slope of his nose. The way that parts of his beard are a little patchy in places. Fine lines mark the areas around his eyes and mouth, telling stories of smiles past, and Luke’s heart gives a concerning twang at the desperate want he suddenly feels to see one. To see those eyes alight and scrunched with joy. See his soft, full lips part into a real smile.

It’s almost maddening how one person can be the exact epitome of his type.

“Can I help you?” the man asks, brisk but not unkindly. His voice was deeper than Luke expected, a raspy timbre that was deep and warm. It heats Luke’s blood in a way that he hasn’t felt in months.

‘You’re gorgeous’, he thinks.

“Do you have a dollar?” he says instead.

The man blinks, looking about just as bewildered as Luke feels. He doesn’t think either of them expected him to give that answer.

“A dollar?” his stranger repeats, eyes flickering across Luke’s face.

Luke nods, shoving his hands in his pockets, mind frantically trying to catch up with the words falling out of his mouth. “The vending machine here doesn’t have a card reader and I don’t have any cash on me. I was wondering if I could borrow a dollar?”

Bewilderment slowly melts into bemusement, and the man’s mouth twists a bit funnily as if he’s holding back a laugh. It doesn’t bristle Luke as it might have from anyone else.

“Sure,” he drawls, leaning over to reach into the rucksack at his feet. His shirt rides up a little, exposing the small of his back. Luke swallows harshly. “What’cha going to get?”

“Huh?” Luke hums feebly, eyes snapping back up to the man's face as he sits back up, fighting valiantly to look like he was doing anything but what he just had been. He’d probably just walk away and leave the airport entirely if he was caught checking this guy out like a stalker again. Or maybe he’d just die on the spot. With the way his heart is beating, it’s more than a possibility.

The man huffs a soft laugh. “From the vending machine,” he reiterates, holding out a dollar to Luke between two fingers. “What are you getting?”

“Oh,” Luke says hoarsely, taking the bill from him. He can’t help but feel a little disappointed when their hands don’t touch. “Water. Not very exciting.”

“Does it always have to be?” the man shrugs.

Luke finds himself smiling, turning the dollar bill over in his hands. “No,” he agrees. “I guess not. Anyways, thank you…”

“Din.”

“Thank you, Din,” Luke says, taking a step backwards. “I really appreciate it.”

Din just nods, shifting back in his seat, that sweet, semi-smile still on his face. Luke forces himself to turn away and head for the vending machine before he makes their interaction any more awkward than it already was, but as he does he’s struck with how unawkward he feels about the whole thing. Once he’d started talking to Din and moved past the thunderous beating of his heart, it had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

He sighs, shuffling up to the machine and smoothing out the bill before feeding it in. The back of his neck feels warm, like maybe if he turns around he’ll find those brown eyes still trained on him, but Luke forces himself not to look, not to get his hopes up over something that is most certainly all in his head.

Grabbing his water, Luke walks back over to his seat, the thought coming to him belatedly that he probably shouldn’t have left his bags and phone sitting around unattended. The last thing he needed was for somebody to call security because of a suspiciously abandoned backpack. He cracks the top of the bottle, taking a long drink as he sits back down.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see that Din has gone back to looking at his phone.

Unwilling to let himself feel disappointed, Luke busies himself with looking busy by collecting all his things and powering his phone back on so he can check in with Leia again before his boarding starts. He grabs his new pills while he’s at it too, rubbing a hand over his chest as he reads over the label haphazardly before eventually just shaking one out, throwing it back with a gulp of water.

Above him, the intercom chimes.

“Attention all passengers, this is an announcement for Halcyon Air flight 147 with non-stop service from New York to Los Angels. We are now going to begin our pre-boarding and are inviting up any guests with small children and anyone who requires extra assistance-”

Luke tunes out the rest of the message. He knows the spiel. At this point, he could probably recite it himself forwards, backwards and in his sleep with how many hours he’s whittled away at airports.

Slinging his bag back over his shoulder, he pulls himself up from his seat, wincing as his knees pop, and joins in with the rest of the sparse crowd shuffling over towards the gate to wait.

He doesn’t look back over at Din, doesn’t want to know if he too is part of the crowd or if he’s still waiting, bound for somewhere else. It shouldn’t matter anyways. It doesn’t.

Luke keeps his eyes forwards.

–

When Luke had been buying his ticket, he’d briefly toyed with the notion of getting a seat in first class.

It would’ve been more comfortable, and the legroom alone is worth any price. But as he’d hovered over the button to upgrade a hollow feeling had carved into his stomach.

From first class, he would’ve been able to see the cockpit.

So, here he was. Mid-plane, closer to the back than to the front, folded into the window seat afforded to him by his economy class ticket. Cool air filters down from the ventilation above him, and Luke tugs his jacket a little closer around himself. From somewhere behind him he can hear the soft fussing of a baby, followed by the soft hushing of a mother. Someone ahead of him snaps their gum loudly.

People continue to slowly filter onto the plane, shuffling down the aisle and trying to force their overpacked bags into the overhead compartments. Despite the late hour, it looks to be a fairly full flight. Busy enough that Luke knows they won't be taking off for a while yet.

He settles back into his seat, ignoring the way that part of the headrest digs into his neck uncomfortably, and looks out of the window to watch the ground crew flutter around for a bit.

He never minded waiting for takeoff before. There was always this thrill, a rush of excitement followed by a cool practiced calm that came with checking over all the gauges and controls. The ease of chatting with the command center and flight crew, knowing they’d be in the air in a few moments. There was no waiting, only anticipation.

But that was then.

Now, Luke drags a hand through his hair, forcing his thoughts back to earth, again frustrated that he can’t seem to control his own mind, his own thoughts, helpless to keep circling back on his woes despite his best efforts not to. Will he always be like this? Stuck in some loop of having the same, sad ruminations over and over again, each in just a different flavour of sour? He takes a breath. Maybe it was too soon for him to be flying. Part of him feels like he should have waited. But, no. That would only do more harm, feed the beast in his mind until he could never step foot near another aircraft again. His wings are gone, metal has turned into wax that has turned into nothing but vapours that he cannot grasp any longer. He needs to get over it. He needs to move on.

Shutting the slide on the window, Luke turns his attention to people watching instead. The stream of people getting onto the plane seems to have slowed, the number of people in the aisle down to only a handful. He spies as an elderly man in a garishly bright button-up sits down a few rows in front of him, followed by an angst-ridden teen whose doing a very impressive job of looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. He chuckles to himself, and wonders if they’re parent and child, trapped in the awkward stage of suddenly not knowing each other anymore.

Shaking his head, Luke pulls his gaze back to the line, eyes widening when, once again, he’s caught by a familiar pair of brown ones.

As he’d thought previously, Din doesn’t seem to be that much taller than he is when standing, but what had been lost on him before is the fact that the other man is apparently built like a goddamn brick house. When he had been sitting, Luke had only been able to glance at his broad shoulders, but now he can see the muscle that goes along with them, and not the over-the-top kind. Din is packing the nice, thick, healthy muscle of a man whose job requires him to be in shape.

Luke’s mouth is suddenly very, very dry.

Eyes still stuck on one another, Din gives him a soft smile, taking another step forwards, another step towards Luke, and he can’t help the rising hope in his chest. Hope, and maybe a little fear, that only grows as Din gets closer and closer until he stops right at Luke’s row.

“Well,” Din says, smokey and amused. “Looks like we meet again.”

“Looks like it,” Luke nods, raptured but playing it cool as Din shoves his bag in the space above them before moving to buckle himself into the aisle seat. “Small world.”

“Small plane,” Din snorts before stopping himself short, a small look crossing his face as he looks at Luke. Like he’s not sure why he’s joking with someone he doesn’t know, his face falling back into something more passive and neutral.

A silence settles between them, the clatter and hum of the people talking around them loud in Luke’s ears. His leg starts to bounce restlessly.

“I didn’t introduce myself earlier,” Luke offers, holding his hand out to Din before the moment can slip too far away from him. He wants to keep that open and free look on the other man's face, eager to see more of it. “I’m Luke.”

Din looks at his proffered hand, and for one ugly moment, Luke thinks that he’s not going to take it.

“Nice to meet you, Luke.”

His hand is hot against Luke’s, rough and calloused in a way that confirms his thoughts that Din’s job has to involve a lot of physical labour. Yet despite their roughness, Din’s touch is soft as he shakes Luke’s hand politely before drawing back. He gives Luke a small smile and leans back in his seat, pulling out his phone from his pocket.

Conversation over then.

Luke tamps down on the despondent feeling that rises in his chest and shifts to look out the plane window once again. However, the phantom of Din’s touch lingers on his skin and Luke forces his hands to settle against his thighs, lest he attempts to reach out and take Din’s hand again. He curls his hand into a ball, dragging his fingers back across his palm, a vague imitation of the touch that keeps replaying through his mind.

“Scared of flying?” Din asks suddenly and Luke jumps a bit in his seat. He turns his head back towards Din, finding that the other man is watching him expectantly, a small crease between his eyebrows. His confusion must show on his face because Din’s eyes flick down to where Luke’s fingernails are now digging into his soft of hands.

“Ah, no,” Luke laughs, forcing his hands to relax. “Not scared. Just not used to flying back here, I guess.”

Din hums, “You’re a pilot then?”

“Was,” Luke corrects, ripping off the bandaid and curing himself for bringing it up in the first place. He wants to bite his tongue. “I’m recently retired.”

Din is quiet and Luke takes a moment to swallow back his grief again. He’s sure that Din was able to hear something of it in his voice if the way that he’s searching over Luke’s face is any indication. He braces himself for another ‘I’m sorry’.

“You’re a bit young, aren’t you? Or is the pay just that good?”

Luke would be embarrassed by the bark of laughter that escapes him if he wasn’t so busy falling in love with the man next to him. Of all the sympathies he’d been expecting to hear, Din’s dry sarcasm feels like pure oxygen being flooded into his lungs.

“I wish,” he snorts and Din huffs a small laugh as well. “Unfortunately, it’s less the fact that I’m making too much money and more along the lines that airlines don’t tend to keep on pilots who need to have open heart surgery. Makes me a bit of a flight risk.”

It’s the easiest he’s been able to talk about his retirement since his doctor had looked him in the eyes and told him there was no saving the valve in his heart. That it was pushing his blood backwards and killing him slowly, that he had to get replacement surgery or risk it all. That for the safety of everyone, he’d had to leave his job. He’d hated having to break the news, so fresh and raw in himself and have to share it with everyone around him. To then see the crushing sadness, worry and pity of his sister and their parents. The awkward condolences from his friends who didn’t know what to say. His prognosis hung over his head like a knife, waiting for the next person to ask after him so it could fall and cut into him again.

But with Din, it felt easy.

He couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe it was the blase way he had asked, or maybe it was because he was a perfect stranger to Luke, but for some reason, the words didn’t hurt as much coming out. They didn’t rip and tear him to shreds. They just were.

Looking at Din, he could see his words register with the other man, as he blinks at Luke and then glances down at his chest as if his heart may give out any second. An array of emotions flit across his face, and Luke watches as his lips press together, troubled and thoughtful, and he feels a light sting of guilt.

“Sorry,” Luke says softly. “That was pretty heavy, huh? I didn’t mean to throw that at you.”

As soon as the words are leaving his mouth, Din is shaking his head. “No,” he says. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine, just not what I was expecting.”

Luke nods, a smile tugging at his lips. “Not what I expected either, to be fair.”

A startled laugh escapes Din’s lips. It wasn’t that funny, Luke knows it’s the situation more than anything, but he still does a little mental cheer of victory.

“No, I suppose not,” Din agrees. There is a gentle openness to his face, the walls that Luke had wanted to see behind are gone, leaving nothing but the rugged beauty of the man beneath.

Another moment of silence falls between them once more, but this time it carries a comfort with it. As it does, Luke becomes starkly aware that all the other noises and conversations on the plane have dimmed as well. He and Din had talked right through the safety briefing without him even noticing and with the cabin lights slowly being lowered, the late of the night seems to have caught up to most of the other passengers.

The plane rocks gently as the pilot maneuvers them back along the tarmac. Luke closes his eyes and breaths deeply through his nose, letting his body move with the sway as they taxi over to the runway. He can’t bring himself to look out the window again, but he also can’t bear the thought of closing it.

“Must be tough,” Din says quietly, voice a rough whisper. “Bein’ here after going through all of that. I don’t think I would’ve been able to.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Luke murmurs, letting his head loll over towards Din as a teasing smile pulls on his face. “I’m not that noble. It’s just a plane ride, Din. Besides, you seem plenty strong to me.”

“Do I now?”

“Yeah,” Luke grins. “You do. What is it that you do if you don’t mind me asking? Or is your job just to fish for compliments?”

The laugh he earns this time is a low rumble of a thing, lighting Din’s warm, earthy eyes up with mirth. “I’m a rancher,” Din tells him, a fondness creeping into his voice that wasn't there before. “Run a cattle place up in Wyoming with some family.”

“Wyoming?” Luke parrots, shifting a little so he can lean over the middle seat to hear Din better. “What’s taking you to California then?”

Din shuffles a bit as well, sinking his elbow lower on his seat rest. “One of our main feed distributors is based out of Tulare County, believe it or not. Every year or so I make the trip out just to make sure our contracts stay in the good. Could do it from home but…”

He trails off, but Luke can gather what he’d been trying to say. “It’s better sometimes to do things in person. Fewer chances of a mix-up or a mistake, yeah?”

“Exactly,” Din nods. “You got it.”

“Is that what you were doing in New York?” Luke asks, unable to feel anything but the desire to know more about the man sitting next to him. He hadn't even noticed them taking off, a strange realization he’d only made when the seatbelt signal had turned off. He’d just been so focused on Din, on his low words and shy smile that he’d somehow missed the shaking turbulence of take-off. “More business?”

“Yeah, there’s a surprising bit more paperwork involved with ranching than one would think,” the other man confirms with a sigh, running a hand over his face. “Can’t just be all the good parts all the time, I suppose.”

“Suppose not,” Luke hums, watching as Din shuts his eyes for a second. He doesn’t feel as creepy now, observing Din, not like in the airport. Instead, all Luke can feel is the tiny little space of intimacy that they’ve carved out between them, fragile and new, but there.

His heart beats faster.

It doesn’t scare him as much as it should.

–

The first three hours of their flight pass by in what feels like an instant.

Luke learns that Din had been orphaned as a child, growing up in the foster system before aging out and setting off to work across the country at different farms and ranches as a hired hand. How he eventually found himself a home at one of them, the friends there slowly growing to become family. How he’d stayed put, working his way up to the point where he and a few others were able to branch off and buy some land of their own. Luke learns that Din is nothing if not loyal and hardworking. That once his guard is gone he’s quick with his wit and even quicker with his laughter.

In turn, Luke tells him about Leia. About how he grew up with his aunt and uncle, thinking that they were the only family he had left, until one day when he was nineteen and suddenly truly on his own, choking on the memory of smoke in his lungs, he’d found an old box of photographs. How instead of one baby in all of his birth pictures, there had been two. How he’d run off then and never looked back, tracking down each new lead he got until he was face to face with a girl who shared his nose.

“That’s where I’m going now,” he tells Din softly, peering over the seats in front of them to watch as one of the flight attendants makes her way down the aisle with the drink cart. “Stay with her while I wait for surgery and then recover there for a bit after until I can fly home.”

Din hums, reaching out to fiddle with the latch on his tray table. “How invasive is the procedure?”

“It depends I guess. They’re either gonna go in right through my chest, or in through my leg with one of those scope things. Either way, it’s gonna be around six weeks to heal.”

Din’s brow furrows, “Don’t you get a choice?”

“I don’t know,” Luke shrugs, twisting the lock to let free his own tray table. “My doctor said we’d discuss it closer to the day, so I’m trying not to worry over that part for now.”

With another short hum, Din nods and changes the subject back to easier waters, “Do you have any other plans for while you’re there?”

Luke smiles, “Not really. I’m just excited mostly to be spending some time with everyone. Maybe go out mini-golfing or something with Han and my nephew. Han’s terrible at it, so Ben always wants to go so we can laugh at him.”

Din snorts a laugh, shaking his head. The flight attendant finally gets to their row, offering food or drink. Din sticks with just a black coffee, but the rumbling in Luke’s stomach pushes him to grab a sandwich along with a ginger ale. The last thing he had to eat had been a few bar nuts while he waited for Biggs.

“How old is he?” Din asks after the attendant has moved on. “Your nephew.”

“Just turned ten,” Luke starts, taking a bite of his sandwich, making sure to chew fully before continuing. “He’s a riot. Quiet kid, but once you get him going he’s really funny. Sweet. I was able to visit them a lot more when he was smaller, but it’s been a while now so I’m looking forward to getting to know him some more. I’ve always liked kids.”

“I…” Din begins before trailing off. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, hesitancy written all across his face. Luke pauses, setting his sandwich down.

“Din?”

“I have a son,” the words are rushed as they leave Din’s mouth. His brow is creased with worry and Luke wants to smooth it away with his thumb. “I have a kid.”

It takes a moment, for Din’s words to sink in.

“Oh,” is his graceful answer as his mind reels from the thought of Din holding a baby. The thought quickly vanishes, however, replaced with the recognition that this might be Din trying to gently tell him that he’s taken. Happily married with partner and child. He didn’t see a ring on the other man's finger, but that doesn’t mean anything. Luke may be a lot of things, but he’s no homewrecker.

“Yeah,” Din says, an edge still to his voice. He grabs his coffee and takes a sip.

Shoving his disappointment to the side, Luke clears his throat. “What’s his name?” he asks, putting a small smile on. “How old is he?”

Tension bleeds out of Din’s shoulders, “His name is Grogu. He’s going to turn five this spring.”

“You and your partner must be excited,” Luke offers weakly. “That’s a big birthday!”

Din nods before stopping to shake his head. “It is exciting, but, uh, I don’t have a partner. It’s just me,” he gives Luke a crooked grin. “I adopted Grogu on my own a few years back. Best decision of my life.”

Warmth swells in Luke’s chest as he looks at Din, at the proud smile on his face when talking about his son. The love that shines clear as day in his eyes. It’s blinding. The knowledge that he’s single comes to Luke like an aftershock.

“Do you have any pictures?” Luke asks, anxious to see more of this side of Din. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

“No, yeah,” Din says, reaching to grab his phone out of his bag. “I was just texting my friend Boba before we took off, he’s watching Grogu right now and he sent me some pictures.”

He shuffles around for a moment, the light from his phone illuminating his face in a wash of blue, casting shadows across his features that only serve to make him look all the more stunning in Luke’s eyes. Din taps on the screen a few times before his lips twitch up again. He moves to hand the phone over to Luke, but before he can take it, Din stops short.

“One second,” he whispers, taking his coffee from his tray and setting it down onto Luke's. He pushes his tray back up into place, flicking it closed before he reaches and quickly unclasps his seatbelt, pushing the armrest next to him up, and slides into the empty middle seat. “This okay?”

Luke can feel the warmth radiating off him, can smell the faint hint of his cologne. Their shoulders brush slightly. Din is looking at him, his face even closer to Luke’s now than it had been when they were both leaning towards each other earlier. And it’s tragic, Luke thinks, that he’s only now getting to see Din’s eyes up close. See the flecks of gold that light up the darkest bits of brown. Tragic that he’s only now getting to soak in the rightness of the other man's presence at his side.

“Yeah,” Luke whispers back. “This is perfect.”

Din nods, a pleased look on his face, and brings out his phone again. He clicks the screen back to life and holds it out towards Luke.

“That’s him.”

The first thing that Luke notices is that the little boy in the picture is small. If Din hadn’t told him that his son was turning five, Luke would have placed the boy as being no older than three at the most. But looking closer, Luke’s focus drifts to his face, catching on his eyes. They’re brown, big and wide and earnest and so much like Dins despite the man not being his biological father. Yet, what grabs Luke’s attention most is the depth within them. A knowing spark, mischievous and clever that gives Luke the impression that Grogu is a wild, viciously smart little boy.

“He’s adorable,” Luke says honestly, turning his attention back to Din, who all but glows at Luke’s words.

“When he’s behaving, sure,” Din jokes, the fondness in his eyes taking away from any real bite his words could have had. “He can be trouble when he wants to.”

Swiping to another photo, Luke’s heart melts at the sight of baby-soft chocolate curls poking out from underneath the cuff of a green, knit froggy hat, followed by the cutest scrunched-up smile that he’s ever seen. Grogu reaches towards the camera in the photo, looking like he just threw a handful of snow at whoever was taking the picture, mid-laugh and bundled up in a great big brown, puffy coat with little green mitts on that match his hat.

Luke has to bring a hand up to his mouth to hide the goofy grin that’s fighting its way across his face. “Okay,” he concedes. “Now, he looks like a troublemaker.”

Din laughs and Luke does too, shaking his head a little bit and wondering if this is what Din is like at home with his son. Loose and at ease. Relaxed and happy.

“He sounds wonderful,” Luke whispers. “You must be proud of him.”

“Yeah,” Din smiles down at his phone. “I am.”

Having children of his own was never something Luke had thought much about. He couldn’t really, not with how demanding his job was. It wouldn’t have been fair to a child or to a partner. But now? Now, as he watches Din gaze down at the photo tenderly, Luke can start to see the hazy outline of a family of his own getting clearer and clearer by the second.

“You gonna finish that sandwich?”

Luke blinks, fuzzy image fading from his mind. He turns and meets Din’s questioning face, following his gaze down to the half-eaten meal on his tray. A laugh bubbles from his chest, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Why? You regretting not getting one now?” he teases, picking up the half that he’s already bitten into and taking another big bite.

“Well,” Din drawls, trailing off into a sheepish smile that forces Luke to hold back more laughter in favour of not choking.

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically, already nudging the uneaten half towards Din. “I guess I can share. Don’t want you to lose all your muscle and fall off a horse or something.”

Din chuckles, taking the sandwich and digging in. “This is just payback for the water I got you earlier,” he jokes, flirty and light. The warmth in his voice strikes just the right cord that flushes Luke’s face with warmth.

“Deal,” Luke hums, popping the last bit of his half into his mouth. It tastes better somehow. It’s still a dry, somewhat bland, airplane sandwich, but when he catches Din picking crumbs out of his beard from the corner of his eye, he understands why.

The hazy outline snaps into reality with stunning clarity.

–

Everything was quiet and Luke kept his eyes closed as he listened to the steady, low hum of the turbine engines.

At some point, he and Din had both given in to the late hour, abandoning conversation in favour of catching some sleep. Or, as much sleep as one could get without risking severe neck pain. Luke was never very good at sleeping while flying, some latent part of him always screaming at him to stay awake and stay alert, too used to being the one flying. Even now, it seemed, some instincts couldn’t be ignored.

He sighs, rolling his shoulders back and stifling a groan when something popped, before letting his eyes peel open, blinking to get used to the dim light.

A few other people seemed to be awake, Luke could see the odd overhead light on and hear a few mumbling voices. He rubbed a bit of sleep from his eyes, somewhat glad he wasn’t the only one having trouble finding rest.

Reaching forwards into his bag, Luke pulled out his phone to check the time, before remembering that he’d turned it onto flight mode prior to them taking off and that the time would be wrong until he had internet again. He snorts an annoyed huff, unlocking it anyways and scrolling through some of his old texts anyways.

“Can’t sleep?”

Luke jerks, smacking his phone to his chest reflexively and looking over to see that, although he still has his eyes closed, there is a satisfied smirk on Din’s lips.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” he asks back instead. “Was my screen too bright?”

Din huffs, amused, “You’re good, I was already awake.”

“Oh.”

Luke sinks back down comfortably into his seat, keeping his gaze on Din as he does. The other man had stayed in the middle seat even after they’d finished looking through all the pictures he had of Grogu, and Luke’s pulse has only just stopped racing, settling into something calmer. Luke isn’t sure if he wants to pick apart his feelings on it just quite yet, happy to just be feeling them.

Din’s face is the picture of tranquillity, save for the impish smirk. His arms are crossed over his chest and his hair is fluffy and ruffled from being smooshed into the headrest. Luke didn’t think it was possible for anyone to look attractive while travelling, but Din continues to surprise him. He wonders when he became so weak just for the sight of the other. It’s only been a handful of hours.

And there are only a few left, his brain reminds him unhelpfully.

Luke sucks in a sharp breath, a writhing twist of sadness striking the center of his chest. He pushes back farther into his seat, feeling his shoulder press more snugly to Din’s as he does.

“Can I ask?” Din ventures softly, voice breaking through both the quiet of the plane and the shouting of Luke’s mind, his eyes still shut.

The words hang between them for a moment, but Din doesn’t bother to elaborate. He doesn’t have to. Luke knows what he’s asking. He closes his eyes as well.

“It’s, uh, it’s called aortic valve regurgitation. Basically, the valve in my heart isn’t closing properly, so the blood is just flowing back out.” he chuckles dryly, “Turns out that’s not good.”

“And the surgery?” Din asks, and Luke’s not sure, but he thinks he feels the pressure against his arm increase.

“They have to replace the valve with an artificial one that will, you know, actually do its job. Like I said before, I’m not sure how they’re going to do it yet, but,” Luke hates the way his voice sounds so thin, cracked and weary under the weight of his literal broken heart and all it’s taken from him. “But, I’m ready. To have it done. Have it be over.”

He hears Din breathe out, heavy. He can practically hear the thoughts running around in the other man's head.

“How did you…” Din starts, words softening into nothing. Luke cracks an eye open, glancing out of the corner of his eye to see Din already looking back at him, eyes low with sleep, but filled with a sort of emotion that he can’t even begin to name.

“Stress to my heart they think. When I was younger I had taken on this apprentice engineering job that I was definitely not qualified for. But, I was fresh out of high school and needed the money, you know? Ended up working a lot with these electrical power setups and I, uh, got myself electrocuted a few too many times. Wasn’t very smart of me.” Luke swallows. His jaw clicks. “Guess I’m paying for it now, huh?”

“Don’t say that,” Din’s response is immediate. “Don’t be stupid. You were a kid.”

Luke shrugs, for he can think of nothing else to do in the face of Din’s earnestness. “Maybe,” he says. “I’m honestly just surprised that it took this long for something to happen.”

Din hums, eyes not leaving Luke’s face. That line between his eyebrows is back, and Luke wonders this time how it would feel to soothe under his lips.

“What made you decide to adopt Grogu?” he asks when the tension of staring into Din’s eyes grows to be too much.

Din smiles, unphased by the change in subject, looking down bashfully with a dry laugh. “I’d say it was less of a decision and more a case of being at the right place at the right time,” he explains, voice hushed. “Was out one night drinking with a couple of friends of mine, stepped out back to grab a smoke and there he was. This squalling, angry little thing, left all bundled up behind the garbage cans.”

“Holy shit,” Luke breathes, unable to stop himself, his stomach sinking at the mere thought of a baby Grogu being left outside in the cold. Din nods in agreement, rubbing at his patchy beard.

“Yeah,” Din says, and his voice sound strained. “I couldn’t believe it at first, thought maybe it was a cat or something. Just couldn’t wrap my head around it until I saw him. He stopped crying as soon as he saw me and I just scooped him up and took him back home with me. Tried my best to figure out how to keep him safe until morning. The nearest social services agency was a few towns away, so I had to wait and take him down there myself.”

There are no words that Luke can think to say, the surge of emotion from Din’s story leaving him empty of them. It’s an odd mix of knowing that there is a happy ending, he’s seen the pictures of a happy, healthy Grogu, but it doesn’t make hearing about the heartache they both had to endure any easier.

“Let me guess,” he says lightly. “By the morning you’d decided he was going to stay with you?”

Din’s lips twitch, “Not exactly.”

“No?” Luke urges, raising an eyebrow.

Shaking his head again, Din takes a deep breath. “In the morning, I packed up my truck, borrowed a baby seat from my neighbour and hit the road. I had every intention of just making sure he got into the hands of someone who could take better care of him than me, but I just…”

“Realized that there was nobody better than you?”

Din laughs wetly, “I guess so. I hadn't meant to get so attached, and then I just kept remembering my time in the system as a kid. Once we got there, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that if I gave him up, I’d regret it forever. I couldn’t do that to him. Add in that the people who ran the agency just left me with a bad taste in my mouth, it was a pretty easy choice after that.”

“You’re a good man, Din.”

Luke aches to reach out and take his hand, fingers twitching against his side as he takes in the sad, funny smile on Din’s face.

“I don’t know about that.”

“Hey,” Luke snips. “Don’t say that. Don’t be stupid.”

The repetition of his own words makes Din snort, eyes flashing with something that Luke can't pick out in the faint light of the plane. They’re so close now that it would take almost nothing to close the gap between them, for him to press his lips to Dins.

“I, um. I’m going to try and sleep again,” he whispers, shifting back just slightly, very resolutely not letting his eyes look at Din’s mouth.

“Okay,” Din nods, leaning back as well. “Sleep well, Luke.”

–

“Good morning, passengers! Halcyon Air welcomes you to Los Angeles where the local time is currently three forty-six am. We thank you for choosing us to get you here and wish you safe travels for the remainder of your journey, however long that may be. Right now we kindly ask that you please stay seated with your belts buckled and luggage stowed until we reach our gate and it’s safe to do so. Once again, thank you for flying Halcyon Air and we hope to see you again soon.”

This is it.

The cabin lights have been brought back up, the brightness stinging his eyes a bit, and Luke watches as the rest of the plane wakes up around him.

This is it.

“Your sister picking you up?”

Luke blinks, looking over at Din who has already taken his seatbelt off despite the instructions not to. It makes him smile and Luke shakes his head, “No, uh, Han is. Somebody coming to get you?”

“Catching a hotel shuttle,” Din says with a shrug.

Luke bites his tongue, holding back the offer to drive him there. It wouldn’t be fair to Han to do that, especially when it’s not his car and it’s already close to four in the morning. Instead, he just nods and undoes his own seatbelt, shuffling in his seat to pull his bag out a little bit from under the seat in front of him.

This is it.

The plane is going to stop, the doors will open and he’ll never see Din again. Part of him wants to run off the plane as fast as possible and to start trying to forget him immediately. The other part of him wants them to be stuck on the tarmac forever, his shoulder pressed to Dins, sharing hushed stories of their lives and living in the bubble of two they’ve created. Five hours wasn’t long, but it was longer than most first dates. Longer than most of the ‘talking’ phases he’s been through. Long enough for Luke to feel the connection that he and Din had.

But Din has Grogu and Luke has a ticking time bomb in his chest.

This is it.

He twists the strap of his bag in his hands, forcing himself to look forwards and ignore Din’s presence at his side. Childish perhaps, but Luke just wants to make it off the plane before he starts grieving another lost thing in his life. Another ‘what if’.

He seems to have an abundance of those now.

“Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’d you go?” Din asks, and that fucking line between his eyebrows is back once more. Luke wants to scream. He hates that he’s the one who keeps putting it there, but he also is overcome with how much he wants to reach out and touch, kiss, anything it away.

“Just got lost in my thoughts for a second,” he says, giving Din a quick smile before yanking his bag out the rest of the way. He peeks over the seat in front of them and sees that the flight attendants have opened the door, others already standing and heading out. It’ll be their turn soon and Luke shoves down the upset churning of his gut, rubbing at his chest. His breathing feels tight. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Din starts, sounding like he wants to say more. Luke gives in and looks over at him again, noting the way the other man worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Din opens his mouth as if to speak again, but snaps his jaw shut as the people sitting in the row ahead of them suddenly stand, jostling the chairs around, cutting off whatever it is he was going to say. Instead, Din just gives him a tired look, lips twisted into an uneven smile. “Nevermind,” he rasps.

Luke nods, feeling the way that the energy around them shifts and contorts into something hesitant and awkward. He hates it. It’s the crushing final blow that smacks him in the chest.

This is it.

Shouldering his bag, Luke stands, hunched and shuffles out of the row behind Din, eyes trained on the other man’s back as he steps out into the aisle and starts walking to the head of the plane. Luke pauses for a moment and grabs his larger bag from the overhead, but he makes quick work of it, the nagging part in the back of his brain urging him to work fast so he doesn’t fall too far behind Din.

He doesn't know the protocol for this. How does one go about saying goodbye to the perfect stranger that they met at the airport? To the seat buddy on an airplane that they might already be half in love with? Does he shake Din’s hand? Thank him for making Luke feel the most like himself that he has in months and then go on his way?

A muggy burst of air hits him as he steps off the plane and onto the walkway back into the main building of the airport and Luke tries to take as deep of a breath as he can, the air already sitting heavily in his chest. Ahead of him, Din wordlessly slows his steps so that he falls in time with Lukes, the two of them lumbering up the quiet hallway together. It’s still early enough that the sun hasn’t even thought to rise yet, the stillness of nighttime still holding on to the world around them. It’s peaceful in a way Luke’s mind is not.

Walking into the main terminal, it’s not too dissimilar from the one they’ve just left behind in terms of numbers, with only a few people scattered about here and there. It makes it easy for Luke to pull his bag off to the side, stepping over into a small rest area in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlook the runway. He tries not to focus too much on the footsteps that follow behind him as he does, pulling out his phone instead to check if he has any messages from Han.

He doesn’t.

Sighing softly, he stops and looks out the window instead. He can feel Din at his side, see the other man's silhouette in his peripheral. Maybe if he just keeps looking outside he won't have to say goodbye. It’s a beautiful view, some of the twinkling lights of the city are just in view, but this far from the bustle of it all, Luke thinks that he can almost make out some stars.

“It was nice to meet you,” Din says, voice low.

Luke nods, his lips pressed together. “Yeah,” he croaks. It feels like he hasn’t spoken in years. “It was nice to meet you too, Din.”

He waits then for Din to leave, to hear him step away and leave Luke’s orbit for good. He tells himself that he won't look until he does, that only once Din turns away from him will Luke grant himself one last look. He wishes he was strong enough to not need one at all, but he knows he will.

But the second's tick by and Din doesn’t move.

It’s treacherous, the way his head turns without permission, breaking the oath he’d just made. He can’t bring himself to regret it though, not when he turns and gets to see Din’s face, both cast in shadow and lit by the light from the window. Luke wishes he had a camera, or that he was an artist of any sort that could capture this view of Din’s face forever.

Din shifts, pulling in a breath as he looks away from the window, brown eyes finding Luke’s blue. There’s so much emotion behind them that it rattles Luke to his bones. He swallows around the lump in his throat, something deep within him daring to stir to life. His mind is all jumbled trying to make sense of what’s going on, but all Luke knows for sure at the moment is that the look in Din’s eyes is one that he knows intimately. It’s something wanting and fearful and soft.

Oh, what a sucker he is for a soft pair of eyes.

But it’s the look in Din’s eyes that screams of hope that sends Luke’s heart racing.

“Luke, I- ” Din starts, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. He’s still speaking softly even though they’re not on the plane anymore. Like he too is afraid that raising his voice will wake them up from whatever dream this is. “I don’t usually do this, but can I get your number?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind to ask Din for his number. That Din would want his. Luke wants to curse at himself for being so stupid, too trapped in his own circle of thoughts to even think to try.

He feels himself nodding as Din smiles and pulls out his phone, handing it over. Luke quickly punches his number in, a giddiness steadily taking over his self-pity as it sinks in.

This isn’t the end, nor is it a goodbye. Din wanted his number. Din has his number now. Din doesn’t just want to leave him behind and move on.

This isn’t it.

He hands Din’s phone back to him and then fishes his own back out of his pocket, trying not to seem too eager as he does. Din’s fingers brush over the back of his hand as he takes the phone from him, and Luke hopes that the involuntary gasp of breath that falls from his mouth was quiet enough for Din not to have heard it. It’s just like their handshake from on the plane all over again, Luke’s skin buzzing from the touch. But, judging by the way Din freezes, he’s not so lucky. Din’s hand moves slowly, pulling his phone back and tucking it in his pocket, before hesitantly drifting back to where Luke’s still hangs in the air. He hadn't even realized that he was stuck as well, not until the tips of Din’s fingers make contact with his skin, gently dragging against the side of his hand. It’s hardly a touch, just the ghosting of one as he continues on, making his way up to trace across the bones of Luke’s wrist.

It’s positively Victorian with how much the simple touch makes Luke ache. The unhurried way in which Din takes his hand. It fills something in the center of his chest, a wound that has been there for so long, longer than Luke can remember. This man with such a gentle touch, such soft eyes, who is looking at Luke like he’s not something broken. Like he’s something whole. It makes him want to sweep Din off his feet, run wherever he wants and never feel any other way again.

“Can I kiss you?” Din asks softly, barely more than a whisper.

Luke’s brain shortcircuits, his pulse hammering in his ears as he feels himself lean into Din’s touch.

“Yes,” he breathed, truly wanting nothing more in the world than to feel Din’s lips upon his. If only his mouth got the memo, because the words that follow immediately after are, “But, I might have plane breath.”

“Plane breath?” Din repeats, voice filled with incredulous mirth, smiling in a way that makes his eyes crinkle up.

“Yeah, you know,” Luke rambles on for no good reason, wishing Din would just do them both a favour and shut him up already. “Stale air, pretzels, cheap coffee. Plane breath.”

“For someone so smart,” Din chuckles lowly, hand moving up his arm and drawing Luke’s face in close to his. “That has to be the most wonderfully idiotic thing I’ve ever heard.”

The crush of Din’s lips against his is almost enough to send Luke crashing to the ground. Only by some sort of grace does he manage to keep his footing, letting his hands move to grab onto Din’s hips to steady himself. Din’s hands cup his face, one hand cradling his jaw while he uses the other to stroke his thumb along the soft skin behind Luke’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. He nips at Din’s bottom lip lightly and is rewarded with a husky laugh in return as Din breaks the kiss slowly, but stays close in Luke’s space.

“I know this is pretty fast,” he says against Luke’s lips. “But I just couldn’t let you go without doing that first.”

“We can do slow later,” Luke agrees, and he feels like Din’s kiss has tinted his lips with joy, his words coated with it. “We have all the time in the world for slow.”

“I’d like to see you again before I leave back for Wyoming. Take you on a date. Would that be okay?”

Luke turns his head and presses a gentle kiss to Din’s rough palm, enjoying the easy affection and the way that he can feel the other man’s breath hitch. “I’d like nothing more,” he answers with a grin.

Din nods dumbly, “Yeah. Okay. Perfect.”

“Okay,” Luke smiles, taking a step back and taking a quick look around, suddenly very, very glad for the emptiness of the early morning. “You’ll call me?”

“I’ll call you,” Din confirms, lips quirking up, and now that Luke’s had a taste of them it takes everything in his being to not lean right back in and claim them with his again. “Maybe even send you a text if you’re lucky.”

Luke shakes his head, knowing that he must look smitten, but with the way that Din smiles at him, he doesn’t care. “Well, let’s just hope I have lots of luck then,” he teases.

“Something tells me you will,” Din says, eyes bright.

“I’ll hold you to it, cowboy,” Luke winks.

In his pocket, his phone buzzes and he knows that it must be Han letting him know that he’s arrived. Luke sighs, hating having to say goodbye less now that he and Din have plans, knowing that now Din has his number and they both have the memory of their kiss, but it still makes a twinge of sadness pull at his heart.

Din seems to sense that their time to part ways has come as well, and he steps forwards, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Luke’s lips like they’re old lovers and not new ones.

“You let me know when you find out more about that surgery, yeah?”

“I will,” Luke nods, bringing a hand up to Din’s face, finally reaching up to run his thumb over the small worry wrinkle between his brows. “You’ll tell me when you get to your hotel?”

“Yeah,” Din breathes, pulling away and taking a few steps backwards, eyes never leaving Luke’s. “I’ll see you soon,” he says, and it’s not a goodbye, but a promise.

“See you soon,” Luke grins, one hand on his suitcase and he watches as Din turns and makes his way towards the shuttle area, feeling bittersweet and hopeful, which is more than he could have ever dreamed about feeling when the day started.

From his pocket, his phone goes off again, and he figures that he’s made Han wait long enough. He watches Din for just a moment longer, just in time to catch him when he looks back over his shoulder to wave, before making himself take the steps away towards the domestic pick-ups. The air as he steps outside is hot and humid and just as heavy as it had been earlier. So similar yet so different from New York, with that distinct city-like grit to it. Luke rubs his chest. He’s never been to Wyoming outside of the airport before. He wonders what the air is like there.

A honk from down the pick-up line catches his attention, and he sees Han stick a hand out of his window to wave Luke over.

Waving back, Luke starts walking over when he feels another buzz from his phone. A grin stretches across his face. He doesn’t check it right away, he knows who it’s going to be. Knows that he doesn’t need to answer right away.

He has the time.

He can take it slow.