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Usually, when there was an issue that required Boba's attention during his bacta sessions, Fennec was the one to rouse him. She was in charge during his healing time and didn't trust anyone else to wake him from such a vulnerable state. Boba's nightmares and insistence on appearing as formidable as possible to his subjects were reason enough to keep that particular interaction between the two of them.
This, of course, couldn't last forever.
✦♕✦
As Boba levers himself out of the tank, Din automatically surveys his body for injuries. His eyes glance over his neck, strong arms, wide chest, his…. what the fuck?
"I thought you were human," Din blurts out, without permission from his brain.
Boba pauses and looks slowly up at him. "And what makes you think I'm not?"
Din gestures vaguely at Boba's middle. "Your um, you don't have a…"
"Navel?" Boba finishes, amusement on his face. "No, I don't, but that's unrelated to my species." He stands up and takes a towel from the heated rack next to the tank to dry off.
"I thought you knew, I'm a clone, sort of. A special order edition. I mentioned it on Morak."
Din looks confused, his emotions written plainly on his face as always. "A clone of who? No, I didn't know."
Boba looks at him incredulously. "A clone of Jango Fett, the blueprint for the Republic's clone army. That fought in the clone wars. Those clones."
"Oh," Din says. If he was the type to shuffle his feet he looks like he would be. "You said Jango Fett was your father so I just assumed he was your father in the uh, regular way. And I've only heard the war called the clone wars recently, I didn't make the connection."
"Yeah, well, that's why I couldn't be the one sneaking on base, those Imps definitely know what the fuck is going on around them at any given time."
Din rolls his eyes and Boba waves a hand before Din can say anything else. "I know, I know, you were far too busy training to be the second most dangerous bounty hunter alive to worry about things like the details of a galactic war."
Din smiles. "Only the second, huh?"
"With me around, anyone is second best, sweetheart, don't take it personally."
And there it is again. Sweetheart. Din never would have pegged Boba as the pet name type but every now and then something like that would slip out. Never directed at Shand of course, Din had a feeling she'd rip the head off anyone who tried calling her something sweet, no matter how much she respected them.
Din wasn't sure if that made things weirder or not so he just tried not to think about it.
Boba, easily skimming over Din's crisis, moves on. "So why'd you wake me? It better be important, I wasn't even dreaming."
Din makes an apologetic face. "Shand had to go chase down some would be assassins right as the mayor's village idiot showed up. Sorry. I know that cluster is the last thing you need right now."
Din gets that feet shuffling look on his face again.
Boba waves a hand. "Don't apologize, just help me into my armor. One of the droids pinched me last time so they're on time-out."
Din hesitates but walks forward, pulling Boba's flight suit pieces off their rack. After careful consideration, he decided to speak. "Your clothes are much softer than mine. What are they made of?"
"Dyed bantha hair," Boba says as he fastens his pants. "Most everything the Tuskens wore was made of it. Very soft, very breathable in the heat while still being tough. It's good for under armor wear." He reaches for his shirt but Din holds out the sleeves for him.
"I was never very picky about what I wore, just whatever I could pick up," Din says as he wiggles Boba's top into place.
"I'm sure. But especially now, it's good for my skin, my body. It's not scratchy and I don't overheat. I could commission one for you."
"Oh. That would… be nice," Din says slowly. "I've never really worn anything because it felt good."
"You should get into it." Boba says. "Especially now that you're not wearing the helmet. Help me with the chest plate."
Clipping the plate into place stops Din from touching his face self consciously. He'd never put his helmet back on after taking it off on Moff Gideon's ship, as was the way, but he still wasn't quite used to his face being bare, let alone people commenting on it. Shand didn't care and the townspeople were too scared of him to talk to him at all. Boba was the only one to bring it up.
The inner conflict Din felt after taking the helmet off on Morak was enough, he wasn't interested in experiencing that again, at least not for now. The helmet stayed on top of a chest of drawers in his room at Boba's palace.
Din blinked back into the present when Boba gently tapped him on the forehead. Rude.
"What's going on in there, hmm? You look practically tortured. I didn't realize looking at me for this long was so difficult for you."
"What?" Din says. "No, I'm not, you're beautiful." Shit.
Boba's eyebrows raise. "Beautiful huh? Haven't heard that one in a while. Careful, you'll make my head too big for my helmet." Boba clips his last pauldron in place and takes his helmet. "And I'm still wearing mine." Boba puts the helmet on, nudges Din's chin with a finger and strides out into the throne room.
What the fuck?
✦♕✦
Din had been thinking about Boba being a clone too much. What must it be like to have whole worlds know his face? A Mandalorian of Din's persuasion could never imagine. One's face was private, intimate, only for the self and a single lover later in life. Being seen by millions of beings went so harshly against his creed that Din found it difficult to look at the idea straight on.
Knowing more about Boba was more important than Din's discomfort, he found. The man seemed ruthless, sharp, aggressive, but he was also so tender with those close to him. He ruffled the hair of the mods, scritched the rancor's head, gave Shand first pick of their food and drink. Called Din sweetheart.
A man of many layers then, Din decided. A man with a face known to the galaxy still standing out, making a name for himself. Din was ruminating on this one morning, nose dipping close to his mug of caf when Boba walks in.
"I have a meeting. You're coming with me. Please do try to wake up and look threatening for me."
He immediately turns and walks out, Din fumbling behind him.
The meeting goes fine, some representatives from the skirting lands. Din barely has to make eye contact with anyone. It's after the meeting that the bullshit starts.
As everyone is leaving the table, there's whispering going on toward the end.
Boba makes his way over to question them. The whispering stops abruptly and Boba is talking quietly enough that Din cannot hear him. That is, until Boba breaks out into loud laughter.
He says something else to the representatives, still smiling huge while they laugh nervously and make their way out.
Boba immediately walks over to Din to let him in on whatever that was.
"The bravery of these ones is impressive," Boba says. "I didn't expect them to voice that."
"Voice what?" Din asks.
"They asked me if you were the nut job that flew into a krayt dragon's mouth to kill it for someone you'd just met. I of course assured them that my bodyman would do no less for the people of Tatooine. Though you better be careful Din, you'll make me jealous, blowing up a monster for someone else."
"I didn't, Cobb's just," Din can't seem to finish a sentence, a big sign saying WHAT THE FUCK flashing in his head. Ok, just answer one point, prioritize. "I took the job to get your armor back." Not the point Din thought was most important but apparently it's what's coming out of his mouth.
Boba smiles slowly. "An important reminder, sweetheart, thank you. That makes me feel much better."
Ignoring the continued flashing of the sign in his brain, Din quickly moves on to the actual most important point. "How did they recognize me? That was ages ago and no one from Freetown was in that delegation."
"There's not that many beings on this dustball with such distinctive armor. And people talk. Not everyone is able to take down a krayt. You’re famous.”
Well that was… odd. Though he was known on Nevarro and popular with the Guild, Din was certainly not used to being recognized. It would have made bounty hunting difficult. But here he was, called out on his past exploits by some random Tatooine farmers.
Din’s silence seems to tip off Boba that he’s uncomfortable as he tries to comfort him… or something.
“Hey, Tatooine is a small world, I’m sure your fame only stretches so far. Besides, what is there to talk about around here other than the new daimyo and his striking bodyman?”
Din frowns. This is shockingly not making him feel any better.
“It's just… strange. My face has always been hidden and my armor unremarkable. This is just different. Hard to get used to.”
Boba smiles softly. “I see what you mean. Would you like to take a break from front-facing work? Get your head on straight?”
Din pauses. Change his work? Just because he’s uncomfortable? Strange. And maybe not what he needs.
“No,” Din says slowly. “I don’t think so. Maybe this is okay.”
Boba grins and claps him on the shoulder. “Great! You’re my favorite, I'd hate to lose you, even temporarily. Ah. Don’t tell Fennec.” Boba winks. “Now! I need some one on one time with my rancor.”
✦♕✦
Din once again found himself in the eating nook outside the kitchen, nodding off into his caf.
“Din!” Boba called, walking into the room, “what is my best man doing this morning?”
Valiantly ignoring this flagrant show of morning personness, Din mumbles something into his mug.
Not at all put off by this, Boba leans against the table and continues to talk about whatever. It’s only at a particularly pointed ‘darling’ that it clicks and he stands.
"Wait. Are you flirting with me?" Din asks incredulously.
"Have been for months, thanks for noticing," Boba replies, amused. "You see me calling Fennec 'sweetheart'?"
"Of course not," Din says, wrinkling his forehead, "she'd kill you."
Boba laughs. "That she would, and I wouldn't want to anyway, you're my sweet one."
Din blanches. "I'm not sweet."
"Sweet for me, then," Boba says, moving closer to Din.
“I’m not, I’m your bodyman, being sweet isn’t in the job description.”
“Oh, darling,” Boba says, “I don’t think we’re talking about your work for me right now.”
Boba is now just inches from Din’s face, their boot toes almost touching. Before Din could say anything else, Boba was leaning up and pressing his lip to Din’s. His mouth was warm and dry and oh. Din had never kissed anyone in this way before and it was… pleasant. Boba clearly knew what he was doing, bringing his hand up to the nape of Din’s neck to change the angle.
The tongue bits are weird but not bad and holding Boba close is nice. Boba is so warm that Din feels heated through. Or maybe that was the kiss. Either way, Din wants to stay here forever, in Boba’s arms.
Boba eventually pulls back and smiles. “See? Sweet.”
Din rolls his eyes but stays close. He’s used to this by now.
“Whatever you say. Just um. Do that again?”
“Oh, baby,” Boba says. “I could do this all day long.”
They sink back into the kiss, Boba pulling Din close by his hips, Din wrapping his arms around Boba’s neck. As they kiss, Din wonders if maybe he can be sweet. For Boba. And maybe Boba will be sweet for him.