Archive of Our Own ^beta

He tried to take a deep, steadying breath to combat the fresh bout of nerves, but it came out as shaky and wavering as he felt. 

Luke had been the last man in a dogfight with enough Imps on his trail that sensors would relentlessly scream at him. He’d always stayed calm when blasterfire hailed upon him as he raced to make the jump to hyperspace. Luke had managed to outmaneuver a wampa that had been determined to make a meal out of him and had come back from the brink of death on the desolate planet Hoth. Kriff, he’d survived Yoda’s training. Yet, this felt like his most daunting encounter yet.

He had tried to remind himself of his various perilous life experiences as he waited alone his table. But the minutes seemed to drag by and Luke found himself hopefully glancing at door every time it slid open and permitted more people into the restaurant. It was pathetic; he wasn’t even excited for his dinner partner to arrive. He was waiting on a Senator (or had Leia said planetary ambassador?), which was a chore in itself. 

The waiter stalked toward his table for the third time, looking considerably less enthused than he had seated Luke. His scrutinizing eyes picked apart the scene. Luke could admit it must look pathetic for the last Jedi to still be waiting for his dinner companion 30 minutes later. He almost wanted to reassure the waiter that this “blind date”, if you could call it that, meant nothing to Luke. In fact, he was quite content in his love life. He and Din had settled into a quiet routine of domesticity over the last few months on Ossus. Quietly taking leave from their roles in the galaxy to bask in the simplicity of starting something new together.

They had agreed to keep it quiet, so Luke had. He’d forgotten this fact until he was hailed back to Coruscant at the request of the New Republic. He had arrived excited to see his sister, only to realize at the docking bay that he and Din hadn’t agreed to let his sister in on the news. So, he was left telling half-truths that led him to agree to go on a blind date.

He felt miserable just sitting there waiting. But tonight would eventually have to end; he could tough it out. Besides, he promised Leia. Sure, it was under duress. But, he had given his word and now had no other choice but to see it through. Maybe this experience would even be enough of a reason to shut down any plans Leia had for her matchmaking services.

Luke feels his body tense as the waiter swoops closer and a fresh bout of nerve-induced claminess overwhelms his left hand.

Luke vaguely wonders if he should of think of a plausible cover story in case this waiter asks. They both stay there silently as the waiter stands expectantly at the table. Maybe he’s waiting for a directive? Honestly, Luke hasn’t gotten used to the strange attentiveness that comes with dining out. He always lets Leia take the lead, content to fill the time amusing Ben so doesn’t scream in the middle of a restaurant. And when Ben’s not there, Luke spends his time busying Han in the hopes he doesn’t make a similar outburst. Now, Luke supposes Leia had probably been expecting him to gather intel for this exact circumstance. 

Seemingly fed up with the whole situation, the waiter forgoes subtly and clears his throat after checking his chronometer. Luke can only find it in himself to smile awkwardly back. The waiter only sighs and tops off Luke’s glass with more water. 

“Thank you,” Luke says enthusiastically, because he means it. At least he has something to do while he runs out the clock. The waiter nods before he patronizingly adds a splash to the untouched cup in the chair across from Luke. 

“Given any thought on what you’d like to order, Master Skywalker?” 

“I’d hate to start prematurely.” Luke shakes his head and gestures to the empty seat across from him, “Must be held up by something important. I’ll wait for my dinner companion to arrive.”

Ten more minutes, Luke promises to himself, then he can give up the table. In a perfect galaxy, he’d be done now. Leia had insisted he give this politician a fair shot. Forty minutes certainly seemed more than fair enough to Luke. Maybe he could even make it to 50 minutes and then get Leia to agree to completely butt out of his love life. Luke was willing to trudge the the humiliation for the greater good. 

The waiter looks as if he wants to say something, but seems to think better of it and sets off to tend to the next tables needs. Luke waits until the waiter has rounded the corner before he drops his head into his hands.There’s a deep sigh already making its way out of his chest when he hears it. That telltale click, click of beskar against beskar. Luke’s heart skips at the familiar noise. For a moment, he forgets how far from home he is and can only think of Din. He looks up hopefully. Rationally, Luke knows he shouldn’t be. On the rare occasion that he hears beskar in the distance, it’s an unfamiliar lone Mandalorian. But when it comes to Din, he can’t help but be hopeful to see him coming around every corner and darkening every doorway.  Luke searches for Din. Every single time.

Now is no exception. Luke cranes unabashedly over the other seated patrons to glance toward the entrance.

Luke's stomach swoops. He swears it feels like he’s nosediving in his X-Wing, excitement and fear mix together at prospect of a dangerous ending, the thrill of narrow escape. The silver gleam of unpainted beskar embossed with a mudhorn signet greet him. Across the restaurant, the Mand’alor turns to face the hostess and she scrambles under his undivided attention. Before Luke can think any better of it, he’s on his feet and ready to close the distance between the two of them. Their captive audience and the consequences be damned. 

But there’s no need. Ever aware of covetous eyes, Din’s vizor snaps up and turns to scan the restaurant. Luke only has to wait a moment before their gazes meet. The hostess is still talking, but Din seems to struggle to do more than nod and wave off her concern as he holds Luke’s gaze. It’s been weeks since they’ve seen each other, and Luke wonders if Din feels as deprived as he does. Din tilts his front, flat edge of his helmet toward Luke and it’s the only warning either him or the hostess receive before he strides over. Catching the awestruck glances of off-duty politicians and hangers-on as he goes by. 

So much for keeping a low profile, Luke thinks to himself as he fights a smile from his face. How could he judge when he barely managed to keep control earlier? 

“Master Skywalker,” Din starts curtly, as the hostess works around them to set the table up for Din to join. Luke’s tempted to tell her it’s not worth the trouble, but Din’s speaking before he can even finish the thought. “I’ve been meaning to get in contact with you. We have some pressing matters to discuss.”

Luke’s brows knit together as he racks his brain for what Din could be going on about, but nothing comes. Din’s helmet tipped ever so slightly toward the hostess as she worried over the place setting. Oh, it was for the benefit of their audience. Luke adds this as another reason to forgo politics.

“How fortunate,” Luke nods in agreement and gestures to the seat across from him. “It’d be best to discuss it now.”

Luke feels like a lothcat lying in wait to pounce as prey as he waits for Din to settle into his seat, the hostess lingers only a moment longer to drop a flimsi with assorted meals and their exorbitant prices printed in tiny aurabesh. Din doesn’t bother with a cursory glance and pushes it toward the center.

“What are you doing here?” 

“I was supposed to be a favor to Leia, but the joke's on me because I got stood up.” Luke feels sheepish at the admission– both the setup and the punchline– but who better to confide in then Din. Luke quickly shrugs it off. “It’s not all bad. Maybe she’ll finally drop it. So, what brings you here, Mand’alor?”

“Fennec set up a meeting with a contact. I was supposed to just sit there a collect intel, but hostess said there wasn’t a reservation in the books.” Din shakes his head infinitesimally, “Last time I agree to a favor from Boba and Fennec. Lucky I ran into you.”

Luke raises an eyebrow and pushes his own menu toward the center of the table. It is lucky. Incredibly lucky. Luke silently thanks the Force, it’d been too long since he’d around Din, let alone close close enough to reach out and touch him on a whim.  

“How fortunate,” Luke echoes, this time the smile wins the fight. He looks down at the menu and back up at Din with a wild gleam in his eye. “So we got this extra time, what do you say to getting out of here?”

“I’ll go anywhere if you’re leading.”