Chapter Text
Luke is too old to be crushing on strangers.
He’s a business owner, a respected member of the community, and he’s long come to terms with the fact that he’s going to die alone. He funds a little league baseball team whose every game he comes to cheer on, and he volunteers at a homeless shelter most weekends. He even teaches a couple martial arts classes at the local rec center twice a week, and on days that he isn’t doing something for the community, he usually ends up at his sister’s babysitting his nephew and/or brother-in-law.
All this is to say, Luke’s a busy guy, too busy to be distracted by a little crush on the hot, single dad that he always sees at the grocery store.
But then again, Din Djarin is very, very hot.
Luke found out the man’s name one day when he’d been gaping (rather conspicuously, he can admit) at Din over in the yogurt aisle, trying to talk his son into a yogurt that didn’t have candy pieces on top. Luke hadn’t been paying attention, or rather he had been, just not to the right things, and he’d walked right into a towering, pyramidal display of Wheat Thins. The whole thing came crashing down in a noisy implosion of the snack food variety.
Being the good guy he is, Din had come over to help Luke up from his Wheat Thin ruins. Luke had gaped dumbly, and before Din was able to ask if he’d suffered any cracker-related injuries, one helpful hand hooked behind Luke’s elbow, he had blurted, “I’m Luke, by the way. Luke Skywalker.”
Din blinked, replied drily, “Din Djarin.”
Din’s hand found the small of Luke’s back as he stumbled out of the Wheat Thin wreckage and smiled at his crush who now has a name and Luke has a new token of a word to obsess over. Two, to be precise: Din Djarin. Luke had noted with glee that there was no wedding band on Din’s ring finger.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Luke said, quickly and with only minor blushing, as the consequences of his actions started to catch up to him, “I promise I don’t normally go around stores knocking over perfectly good displays.”
Din doesn’t smile, but he does say, “I know.”
The idea of being potentially regularly perceived by this man to a point where he can vouch for Luke’s typical lack of clumsiness makes something in Luke’s chest burn like an old engine come to life.
“What’s the little guy’s name?”
Din pauses, “That’s Grogu.”
Eyebrow raise, “Interesting name.”
Din got this funny look that Luke wanted to dive right into, and he shrugged like he liked that he made Luke make that look, and- “It’s a family name.”
Luke grins, madly, “It’s a cute name.”
Din looks adorably self-satisfied by this response, and Luke thinks he might die.
“The other kids at daycare get a kick out of it, but I rather like it. Suits the little guy.”
Before Luke’s able to come up with a witty or especially charming response, he points behind Din to where the attractive man had left his kid kicking his feet back and forth from his perch in the shopping cart, and he says, “I think your kid just smuggled a couple chocolate-somethings into the cart. Just so you know.”
Din curses under his breath, takes one last assessing look of Luke, evidently decides the clutz in the grocery store won’t be causing any more damage to innocent bystanders or snack displays, and he turns around and flees to go chastise his child.
Luke picks his shopping basket and his threadbare dignity out of the pile of boxes on the floor and slips out of the aisle before he can make any more of a fool of himself than he already has, determined to be much smoother the next time he sees Din Djarin in the yogurt aisle.
The next time that Luke encounters Din, fortunately, isn’t quite as violent of an altercation.
Luke had left work late, a particularly old engine that he’d promised he’d fix up for a teenager trying to fix up their junkyard car before they got their license has been causing him trouble. He got in the order for the last part he’ll need, and he’s pretty sure the car will be done in time, but the point is, he’s running late, and Wednesday is grocery day, so by the time he gets to Kroger, Din and Grogu are waiting for their turn at the checkout line.
Luke waves, smiling brightly, “Hey, strangers!” He spares an extra special wave for the child at the front of the cart, “Hope you two didn’t have to save any clutzes from their own terrible grocery fate today, did you?”
Din doesn’t return Luke’s smile, but there’s a definite flicker of recognition, so Luke takes it as a good sign, continuing with a smile just for Grogu, “You convince your dad to get any good treats today, little guy?”
Grogu grabs excitedly at a bag full of gummy frogs in the seat beside him, and he brightens considerably, garbling something happy-sounding that Luke can’t quite translate out of Little Kid Speak.
“Had to talk him down from getting the whole damn candy aisle.” Din grunts.
Luke’s so surprised-happy that Din’s even contributing to the conversation, he could’ve spoken total gibberish, and Luke’s pretty sure his heart would’ve taken flight then and there like a refurbished goddamn biplane in his chest.
Luke nods at Grogu, smiling, “I don’t blame you, buddy. It’s a tough decision, but it looks like you made a good choice.”
Grogu hugs the candy to his chest, grinning, this toothy, gleeful thing at their grocery story acquaintance, and Luke does what he hopes is the mature and cool thing to do, he says, “I’ll see you two around!”, he waves at Grogu, and as he walks away from the father-son pair at the cash register, he winks at Din and continues into the store.
“Hey, Ben. Can I ask you a question?” Luke says one night from the middle of his sister’s kitchen, a blue-striped dish towel thrown over his shoulder. He’s checking to see if the casserole he’d made for dinner is cooked through, poking at the top with a butter knife, and his nephew is setting the table, pushing himself onto his tiptoes to line up the forks and spoons beside the plates neatly.
“What’s up, Uncle Luke?”
Ben’s recently lost his two front teeth, and it comes out sounding more like uncle wook, and Luke finds it, frankly, beyond adorable, though he knows Ben would pout if he said that to the boy’s face. Instead, Luke wipes his hands at the towel on his shoulder and smiles, “I was wondering if you know a kid about your age named Grogu.”
Ben nods and reaches for the napkins. He folds one carefully and bites cutely on his bottom lip with what teeth he does have, “Yeah, I know Grogu. He’s in the other class. He has recess with us sometimes.”
Luke hums, watching as Ben meticulously straightens the four table settings without meeting his uncle’s eyes. He thinks about the way Grogu doesn’t speak the same way as Ben, garbling happily from the shopping cart.
“And are you nice to him? Are you friendly? You know what your mamma always says about being friendly to everyone.”
Ben rolls his eyes, but recites his momma’s mantra.
Luke hums an affirmation and frowns down at the oven, but doesn’t say anything else about Din or Grogu or their Kroger meet-and-greets.
Luke’s just shoving the big glass casserole pan onto the kitchen table when they hear the front door open and close. He watches his nephew’s face brighten just as his brother-in-law appears in the kitchen doorway.
“Honey, I’m home!” Han croons, his toolbox hanging loosely from one hand and a grin on his face.
Leia enters behind him, hitting her husband on the back of the head before Ben throws himself at his dad and starts talking approximately a parsec a second. Han lets his toolbox drop to the floor and listens raptly to his son’s recap of his very exciting day at preschool.
When Leia passes her brother, she presses a kiss to his cheek and asks, “What’s for dinner? I’m starved.”
It’s not until the four of them have sat down at the table, settling in, hands going for forks and knives, Leia reaching over her husband to make sure that Ben’s napkin is thoroughly tucked into his shirt, that Ben kind of lets the cat out of the bag. Ben’s practically standing on his chair trying to reach for the serving spoon, and he says, “Uncle Luke, why’d you ask about Grogu?”
Both Leia and Han’s eyes shoot to Luke.
“Who’s Grogu?”
“A boy in my class.”
Luke decides to play it cool, even knowing it won’t work (Leia knows him too well, and she knows damn well there isn’t a cool bone in Luke’s body), still, he shrugs, “I met his dad at the grocery store. Nice guy.”
Leia, damn her, has apparently developed the ability to read Luke’s mind at some point between birth and now, and she shoots a sharp smile at Luke, “Oh, did you? And is Grogu’s dad, I don’t know, single or something?”
At that, Han seems to latch on to what they’re getting at here, and there is no longer any hope. Luke feels his face burn. He scoops out a liberal and very cheesy bit of casserole and drops it onto Ben’s plate, just to do something with his hands.
“I dunno. I barely know the guy.”
Leia snorts, “Sounds like you do.”
“Shut up.”
“So, is he cute?”
The cutest, “I mean, he’s objectively… not unattractive, I guess.”
Leia hums happily.
“Didn’t know you cared so much about kids, Luke.” Han chimes in.
Tomorrow at the shop, Luke thinks, he is going to make sure something very, very heavy lands on Han. Han cackles. Yeah, very heavy.
“It’s nothing. I promise. Just-” Luke waves his fork around, and shoves an oversized scoop into his mouth for effect, “Drop it, okay?”
Han absolutely does not want to drop it, that much is obvious by the giddy expression on his face, but when he opens his mouth to say something, Leia must see something desperate in Luke’s face, because she stabs at him with her fork, and what is supposed to come out as a jab at Luke, instead just sounds like a yowl, “Ow! What was that for?”
Leia’s answer comes in the form of a starch expression, and Han makes a look at Ben across the table from him that sends the toddler into a fit of mischievous giggles. Leia, on the contrary, is busy making eye contact with Luke, trying to use her twin powers to mentally get out of him what exactly is up with this Din guy. Luke’s a shut trap. He takes another overly large bite of casserole so he isn’t tempted to spill more than he intends.