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Boba Fett had insisted.
“It’s not a negotiation, Djarin.”
“It absolutely is.”
“It isn’t.”
“I don’t take vacations.”
“You do now.”
“I have work.”
“You’ll survive three days.”
“I have responsibilities.”
“So does everyone else.”
“I—”
Boba had simply ended the holo call.
“I’ll see you Friday.”
Click.
Din had stared at the communicator for a long moment before sighing.
“…I hate all of you.”
⸻
So somehow…
Din Djarin found himself on the closest thing to a vacation he had ever taken.
He and Grogu were spending a long weekend at Boba’s palace on Tatooine alongside what had somehow become their family.
Cara.
Greef.
Mayfeld.
Fennec.
Peli.
Paz and Ragnar had even made the trip.
The palace was louder than Din preferred, warmer than he’d like, and somehow felt more like home than he’d ever expected.
People wandered in and out of conversations.
Children ran through the halls.
Food never seemed to stop appearing.
Someone was always laughing.
It was… nice.
Strange.
But nice.
And this weekend happened to carry another milestone.
Grogu’s birthday.
Or…
The closest thing they had to one.
They’d spent weeks trying to figure out how to celebrate it.
Grogu’s species aged differently.
No one knew exactly how differently.
Physically, he’d barely changed since Din had found him.
Chronologically, he’d already lived decades.
Emotionally…
He was just a little boy.
Eventually they’d all agreed on something that felt right.
They wouldn’t count the years before.
Those belonged to another life.
Another family.
Another story.
Instead…
They would celebrate the day Grogu’s new life began.
The day he found his daddy.
Four years.
Four years since Din had looked into a hovering pram expecting another bounty…
…and found his son instead.
So today…
Grogu was four.
The inaugural birthday.
And apparently everyone had decided that called for the biggest celebration Tatooine had ever seen.
Banners hung from the palace walls.
Tiny lights had been strung across the courtyard despite it being broad daylight.
There were presents stacked nearly as tall as Grogu himself.
Peli had somehow found a cake shaped like the Razor Crest.
Greef had hired musicians.
Cara organized games.
Mayfeld had declared himself “Director of Fun.”
Din still wasn’t entirely sure what that meant.
He wasn’t convinced he wanted to know.
Grogu, meanwhile…
Was absolutely thriving.
He bounced from person to person all day long.
Opening presents.
Showing everyone his favorite new toys.
Eating entirely too much cake.
Accepting hugs from every aunt and uncle who offered one.
Laughing so hard that more than once he simply toppled over backwards.
Din watched it all with a quiet smile.
His son was loved.
By everyone here.
That knowledge settled somewhere deep inside him.
⸻
Later that afternoon, the celebration migrated outside.
The palace pool glittered beneath twin suns.
Grogu was already splashing happily with Mayfeld, who had somehow convinced him that the objective of swimming was to soak every adult within twenty feet.
Din had wisely stayed near the grill instead.
Helmet resting safely with his belongings inside the palace.
Apron tied around his waist because Greef insisted “every grill master needs one.”
“I am not a grill master.”
“You are today.”
“I hunt people.”
“And today you’re flipping nerf burgers.”
Din sighed.
“I miss bounty hunting.”
“You absolutely do not.”
“…Fair.”
Greef laughed as they turned skewers over the fire.
For a while…
Everything was peaceful.
Din found himself simply watching.
Grogu shrieking with laughter.
Ragnar cannonballing into the water.
Cara pretending not to enjoy herself.
Boba somehow relaxing despite pretending he wasn’t.
The whole family.
Together.
His heart had never felt so… still.
So safe.
Then Grogu spotted him.
“Daddy!”
Little green arms shot into the air immediately.
Up.
The universal signal.
Pick me up.
Mayfeld rolled his eyes dramatically.
“Oh, come on. I’ve been entertaining him for twenty minutes.”
Grogu looked at him.
“Daddy.”
“I heard him.”
“He chose Daddy.”
“I KNOW.”
Din chuckled quietly as he walked over.
Mayfeld grumbled all the way to the pool’s edge before lifting Grogu under the arms.
“Your kid’s got favorites.”
“He does.”
“And it’s rude.”
Din crouched beside the pool.
The second Grogu was close enough, he reached out and lifted him effortlessly into the air.
“Wooooosh!”
Grogu squealed.
His little legs kicked happily as Din swooped him through the air like a starfighter.
Again.
“Wooooosh!”
Giggles exploded out of him.
The kind that stole his breath completely.
Din laughed too.
He hadn’t even realized he was smiling until Grogu laughed harder because of it.
He settled the dripping little boy against his hip.
“Come on.”
They wandered back toward the shaded patio where Cara, Fennec, and Peli were gathered.
The moment they saw Grogu…
All three women collectively melted.
“Oh, look at him!”
“His hair!”
“It’s sticking straight up!”
“He looks adorable.”
Grogu beamed beneath the attention.
His damp ears flopped slightly.
Little curls of wet hair stood in every direction imaginable.
Din looked down at him.
Stars.
He really was unbearably cute.
Something warm bloomed in his chest so suddenly it almost caught him off guard.
Without thinking…
He leaned down.
Pressed one kiss against Grogu’s cheek.
Then another.
And another.
Grogu dissolved into delighted giggles.
Din smiled.
“You’ve got to stop being so cute.”
Another kiss.
“I can’t keep up.”
One more.
“It’s becoming a problem.”
Grogu laughed so hard he nearly snorted.
Then he looked up at Din.
Really looked at him.
Those big brown eyes shone with absolute adoration.
Slowly…
Very carefully…
He leaned forward.
Pressed his own little mouth against Din’s cheek.
His version of a kiss.
Tiny.
Clumsy.
Perfect.
Time stopped.
Din didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
His entire heart seemed to liquefy inside his chest.
Grogu pulled back with the proud expression of someone convinced he’d done something very important.
“I kiss Daddy.”
Din swallowed hard.
“…Yeah.”
His voice barely worked.
“You did.”
Around them…
No one said a word.
Cara quietly wiped at one eye.
Peli actually put a hand over her heart.
Greef looked suspiciously interested in absolutely nothing.
Even Mayfeld, who had wandered over carrying a towel, stopped talking.
“…Well,” he muttered after a long silence.
“That’s disgustingly wholesome.”
No one even bothered to argue with him.
Din just looked at Grogu.
Four years.
Four years since a tiny green child had looked up at him from a hovering pram.
Four years since everything he thought he knew about his life had changed.
He rested his forehead gently against Grogu’s.
“What did I do,” he whispered, almost to himself, “to deserve you?”
Grogu smiled.
“Daddy.”
As if that answered everything.
Maybe it did.
Din closed his eyes for just a moment.
No.
He hadn’t done anything to deserve this child.
He knew that.
Grogu wasn’t something he had earned.
He was a gift.
The greatest one the galaxy had ever given him.
And Din made himself a quiet promise, there in the warm Tatooine sun with his son laughing in his arms and the people he loved surrounding them.
He would spend the rest of his life trying to become worthy of that gift.
It would never feel like enough.
But he would never stop trying.