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Chapter Text

Cobb Vanth sees the Mandalorian before the Mandalorian sees him, or so he thinks. He spots that artwork of an armor from faraway and approaches his ship as quietly as he can manage.

Not nearly quietly enough, judging by the blaster which aims straight at him and the Mandalorian’s voice which comes hostile yet measured through the helmet. “If you’ve come for the armor-“

The marshal raises his empty hands in surrender. “I don’t care about the armor,” he says. “I’m here to ask for a favor.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t lower the blaster. “The deal is long settled. I don’t owe you anything.”

“No, you don’t.” he concedes. “There are...people after me. I have nowhere to go, no one to protect me. But I know that if I stay with you for a while, no one will dare come near me.”

The former marshal smiles hesitantly and starts taking small steps towards the Mandalorian with his hands up in the air. The hairs at his nape are rising, his feet feel unstable, all his atoms are screaming ‘danger!’ at him. “Come on. I won’t live another day without you. You wouldn’t leave me for dead.”

“I’m a bounty hunter. What makes you think I wouldn’t leave you for dead?”

Now, that’s a fair question, Cobb thinks, but even he doesn’t have the answer. “You just don’t look like that type of man.”

The Mandalorian stares at him from behind the blaster. The beskar gleams under the scorching sun.

“I have my child on the ship,” he says icily.

“Oh,”

“If you dare touch him, I’ll make you beg for death.”

Cobb snorts and glares where he thinks the Mandalorian's eyes are, given that he is human and has eyes. “I’d never hurt a child.”

The Mandalorian remains silently threatening. Deadly. In an effort to lighten the mood, the marshal winks and says, “And I never beg for anything.”

The Mandalorian scoffs humorlessly, and the journey begins.

Cohabitation with the Mandalorian is just as he expected it, difficult, silent and lonely. The Mandalorian’s real name is Din and he is a man of few words. For most of the day, he does work around the ship, which was a mess when Vanth first came, but now seems much tidier. He mostly ignores the marshal, and their efforts at meaningful conversation fall short given that he is not willing to reveal the slightest thing about himself and his child. 

He is very careful with the child, that small, green creature with the massive glittering eyes. Cobb goes crazy for him the moment he sees him, but the Mandalorian won’t let him approach him. They stay in their seats and the Mandalorian has it on his lap as he drives. The child turns and looks at the marshal curiously with its enormous eyes. Vanth winks and it coos in response, shifting in its seat to get a better look at him.

“Hey,” the Mandalorian warns, holding the child closer.

“Hey man, just let me see him for a while,” Cobb complains.

“No.”

Another thing he has learned about the Mandalorian: he is hopelessly stubborn. The marshal sighs and lays back against the chair. He smiles apologetically at the child, and it jolts on Din's lap and laughs. He has to insist. “He wants me to hold him!”

The Mandalorian looks at him for a very long moment. His gloves tighten around the wheel. The child raises its tiny arms towards Cobb and the anxiety starts to seep off the Mandalorian's figure. Then he says, voice fraught with worry. “Just be careful.”

“Of course,” Cobb replies and swoops the child in his arms.

The child is easy to entertain, in contrast with its father. It's very playful, and he suspects the Mandalorian is not exactly a guy who likes to play with children. Then again, he never expected him to be an overprotective father.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” he asks fondly.

He can feel the Mandalorian’s eyes boring into his soul. His survival instincts warn him again teasing the man, but the Mandalorian’s restless posture just won’t let him. “Don’t get jealous,” he says teasingly. “You’re a good boy too.”

The Mandalorian takes the child back and sets them on another route. 

The weeks drag. Vanth doesn’t wander around, doesn’t explore, doesn’t do anything. He watches the Mandalorian drive for hours, until everything around them appears blurry. He wonders how the man never gets tired.

And he may be crazy, but he thinks that the Mandalorian secretly likes to have company when he drives his ship. A few days ago, he had asked him about Freetown. He could have brief and mostly insignificant discussions while driving, and Cobb could even go as far as to say they were comfortable around each other during those moments.

After five hours sitting on that chair, his neck and back are killing him. He gets up with a grunt and wishes the man goodnight. Din jerks in place as if he had fallen asleep on the wheel.

Cobb observes him closely. “Aren’t you going to bed?” 

“You are going to my bed,” he mumbles hoarsely.

“What do you mean?”

The Mandalorian turns to glance at him. “You’re sleeping in my bed.”

Cobb’s mind finally catches up. “You’ve been sleeping here all this time?” he raises his voice. “Stars, no wonder you’re so gruff all day! Get the kriff up! I’m sleeping here. You’re going to sleep in the pod.”

“No,” the Mandalorian complains. “I can only heat that pod and the child's pod. The rest of the ship is frozen.”

“So you’re wrecking your body and freezing to death? Get up already. You must be crazy if you think I’ll leave you here.”

“There’s no other place to sleep. I've done this before, I'm used to it. Now let me rest!” he insists irritably.

“We’ll sleep together.”

The Mandalorian seems to be in a loss of words. He shakes his head in exasperation. “We can’t just sleep together!” he says with too much resolve for someone who is indistinctly shivering and can barely turn his neck. 

“What are you afraid of? I'm not going to cuddle you to death,” he says and starts approaching him. “I swear to the Force, Din, if you don’t get up right now, I’m going to carry you there. Don’t care if you punch me in the throat or something.”

He can't see the man glaring at him, but he can feel it. He laughs at the intensity of the conversation, but Din doesn't join him.

“Hey, man,” he says softly. “I’m just teasing you. But I won’t be able to get a minute of sleep knowing you’re up here shaking from the cold.”

A deep sigh leaves the helmet. "It's very cold tonight..." Din murmurs. “Maybe just for one night,” 

Cobb faces the ceiling while the Mandalorian removes the beskar plates and crawls inside the pod in his black clothes. The pod is not comfortable for two people, but after weeks of slumping on a chair Din sighs in relief when his body hits the mattress. The door shuts behind him and the pod sinks into complete darkness. There is a wheezing sound and Cobb's heart skips a beat when he realizes that the man has probably removed his helmet. His eyes vainly try to adjust in the darkness. There is no source of light. He won't get a single glimpse, and the Mandalorian knows that. That's why he is calmly sinking against the sheets with his shoulder touching Cobb's due to the lack of space, his skin freezing cold when the marshal accidentally brushes it. 

Vanth's curiosity gets the best of him, it always does. “What species are you?”

The Mandalorian groans and shifts away from him.

“Say something,” Cobb says. “I want to hear your voice.”

“Why do you care?” he asks.

His voice sounds somehow vulnerable without the helmet. More intimate.

“We’re not supposed to see a Mandalorian’s face, but we can touch it, right?”

“Right,” Din says carefully.

“The curiosity is killing me,” Cobb says warningly and hovers over Din's body in the dark.

Din sighs deeply but doesn’t push him away. Cobb runs his hand over the man’s exposed face. He feels the smooth skin of his cheeks, interrupted by the slight stubble on his chin. He traces the lines of his brows. His fingers linger across his slightly parted lips. “Huh,” Cobb says. “You’re a pretty human.”

“You don’t know if I’m pretty.” the Mandalorian replies dismissively.  

“I can tell.”

Cobb moves closer him when he feels something poke at his stomach. His hand moves down, and he feels the Mandalorian's erection, hot and hard against his trousers. The other man jolts and flinches away from him.

Cobb can’t restrain the smile, and it sounds in his voice. “Oh my, does the famous Mandalorian get the hots for me? Come back. You’re doing me a great favor by letting me be here. Why don’t you let me make it up to you?”

He is answered by a silence so absolute that he wonders if the Mandalorian is even breathing. He hopes he hasn’t come off as aggressive. Clearing his throat, he hurries to add in a serious tone.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to. We can just sleep.” 

He doesn’t feel the Mandalorian anywhere near him, so the man has either latched himself on the ceiling like a spider or stuck his body against the wall, inches away from his. Still, Cobb doesn’t reach out to find him.

“I’ll make it good for you,” he promises.

The answer comes after a long pause. “It’s been a very long time…”

“That’s fine,” he says. “How long?”

“Long. And, um…I’ve actually never-With a man, I mean…”

“Okay,” Cobb interrupts to spare him the obvious awkwardness. “We’ll take it slow and you’re going to love it.”

Again, no answer. “And anytime you want to stop, we’ll stop,” he emphasizes. “Why don’t you come here, and we’ll see if you like what I do?”

The mattress sinks as the Mandalorian comes back to Cobb’s side. The marshal tangles his hand through his hair. “That’s more like it,” he says and brings him in for a kiss.

He brushes his lips against his softly, but the Mandalorian grabs his face and kisses him back hungrily. His erection is pressing against his stomach and Cobb reaches out to hoist the man’s leg over his own hip, running a hand up and down his clothed thigh. The kiss deepens, Din opens his mouth eagerly and Cobb explores the corners of his mouth with his tongue. The Mandalorian groans against his mouth. He is involuntarily rubbing himself against Cobb and he won’t let him catch a breath in between kisses, desperately trying to get more contact.

Cobb wasn't expecting this burning passion, that’s for sure. He had expected a much more clean, calculated approach to sex. He shifts the Mandalorian onto his back and braces himself on his elbows, kissing him on his open mouth. “Can I take your clothes off?” he asks. He’s not sure what being Mandalorian entails, and he hopes he doesn’t have to stroke the man through his trousers.

The Mandalorian nods breathlessly. He’s already pulling his shirt off when Cobb slaps his hand away playfully. He peels off his shirt and his hands wander on the skin underneath, feverishly hot where it had been icy a few minutes ago. He runs his hands over the Mandalorian’s chest and stomach as the other man breaths heavily. Pressing small kisses around his chest, he takes a nipple into his mouth. The Mandalorian keens. Cobb freezes in place at the sound.

He had never thought the Mandalorian would be so sensitive. It's an exciting revelation, but he chooses not to bring attention to it. He fears that Din might shy out of it if he does. He continues sucking at his nipple much gentler. The instant moaning makes his cock twitch in his trousers.

He takes the other nipple in his mouth and his hands move to rub over Din's sides, which are expanding as he pants. They eventually rest over Din’s trousers. He lifts his hips enough for Cobb to start pulling them off. He removes his underwear slowly, teasingly, practically sensing Din's anticipation in the air.  His hands move up the man’s quivering thighs, massaging the hard muscles.

“Spread your legs,” he says.

He is once again caught by surprise when the Mandalorian immediately follows his order and opens his legs wide for him. He moves between them, feels the man’s knees on his sides. He moves his hands underneath him and hoists him up to knead the soft skin of his ass. Din’s entire body shakes violently.

“Easy, easy,” Cobb murmurs, reaching down for a brief kiss. “We’re just having some fun for now.”

Licking a wet trail down his sternum, he reaches his groin area. His fingers trail over the thick, leaking cock, laying heavily on his stomach. He moves between his legs and starts licking around his thighs. He bites gently at Din’s inner thigh, gets slightly alarmed by his sharp cry and ends up planting fluttering kisses over the bite. His mouth kisses and sucks every inch of his skin yet avoids his cock. Din moans shamelessly. 

The moaning is arguably the best part about the experience, and Vanth is dying to see how far the teasing can take him. He leaves his neglected cock untouched for a while longer and moves up to his chest again, kissing his nipple before taking it in his mouth, stroking the other one with his hand. Din's leans into the touch. His body is shivering with desire and need. 

Vanth is careful. He thinks about twisting and biting his nipples, but he doesn't want to push him beyond his limits. The Mandalorian already seems overwhelmed as he writhes under his tongue, and Cobb continues unbothered by his struggle. He spreads his knees wider and his hand ghosts down his thigh and squeezes at his balls. Slicking his hand with the precum, he starts lightly stroking his cock.

Din gasps and is now unable to control his squirming. Vanth has to use all his strength to hold him down, or at least still enough to continue licking at his chest. His hand moves slowly, ignoring Din's desperate cries. The sounds he's making are so erotic that Vanth feels a stain form in his trousers.

“Cobb!” he cries out desperately.

And then the Mandalorian is coming all over his own stomach, trembling and moaning, spread out on the mattress. Cobb supports his arching body. His orgasm is long and looks terribly intense. He tries to speak through the aftershocks. “Sorry. It’s been so long, I’m sorry-“

“It’s fine,” Cobb says with a wide smile that the man cannot see. It’s dreadfully sweet, that’s what it is, but Din sounds very embarrassed, and Cobb is afraid he might think he’s teasing him. He leans down to taste the come on his stomach, licking him clean before pressing a kiss on the center of his heaving chest. “I’m going to make you come again.”

The Mandalorian shivers and Cobb pushes his lips against his. He half stands and starts removing his own clothes hastily. The darkness is absolute. He takes off his underwear and frees his own aching erection.

He places his hands on the Din's hips and starts turning him over. The Mandalorian obediently gets on his hands and knees. Cobb gently pushes his head down to rest against the pillow, and then gets back up and massages the skin of his exposed ass. He wishes he could see the Mandalorian's body. He squeezes his cheeks and Din squirms.

“We can stop anytime you want,” he says. 

“I know,” 

Cobb drenches his fingers in lube. He circles the man’s hole, staying very quiet in order to monitor the Mandalorian’s reaction. He starts pushing one finger inside very slowly. The Mandalorian clenches around him like a vice but takes it. He draws the finger in and out, reassured by his steady breathing. He notes the absence of any tangible reaction like the one he had before. Tentatively, he stretches him and adds a second finger.

The Mandalorian’s breath catches in his throat. “Alright?” Cobb asks, his other hand resting on the man’s lower back.

“It's fine,” the Mandalorian replies, but his tone is strained.

“Slow down?” he asks.

“No.”

But Cobb goes slower anyways. He tries to push his fingers deeper but finds his body resisting the stretch. He settles for short, gentle motions to stretch him open. The Mandalorian starts to experimentally push back onto his fingers. Cobb holds him into place firmly and leads him on his own pace. The Mandalorian is already overstimulated, and he supposes that discomfort is heightened as much as pleasure.

Cobb's other hand reaches underneath him to hold his hardening erection. Din grunts, pushing into his touch. He goes fully hard again in only a few moments. Cobb carefully caresses him as his fingers scissor him in order to insert a third finger. The Mandalorian freezes momentarily, but Cobb fondles his cock for a while and he eventually relaxes enough for them to continue. He works the fingers inside him and jerks him off with the other hand, relishing in the sounds Din begins to make at the back of his throat. 

He removes the fingers and coats his painfully hard cock with lube. He's well endowed, as thick as Din and a bit longer. People have loved him for that in the past, and he's been told he has the skills to compliment the size. Din tries to steady his breathing when Cobb rests his erection against his cheeks. The marshal has never been with someone so responsive, so sensitive. He is as turned on as he is concerned.

“Are you ready?” he asks.

“Yes,” Din replies.

He places his cock at the man’s entrance and starts pushing in. He goes slow against the growing pressure. It’s borderline painful for him, so he imagines what it must be like for Din, who is trembling violently underneath him. He pushes deeper inside him, and the Mandalorian’s knees give in under him. Cobb carefully lays him down on his stomach, following him to rest over. Din tries to choke down a pained moan, but it vibrates through his body.

Cobb remembers how shamelessly he had been moaning before and thinks bitterly to the fact that Din was very vocal about pleasure but won’t allow himself to show he's in pain. Still, he feels it all over him. In his clenching and spasming muscles, the way he has buried his face to the pillow, in his pained breaths and the soft, indistinct moaning. Guilt eats through him. Vanth wraps his hands around his chest and starts kissing his back and shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he says between kisses. “I’m sorry, it’s over.”

“No,” Din rasps out. “I need you.”

He is taken aback by the sentiment in his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Din turns around and searches for Cobb. His kiss is feverish, needy. His hand moves down to push Cobb’s hips against his, drawing him in deeper. Cobb locks him in a tight embrace and Din whimpers audibly when Cobb fully settles inside him, his groin resting against his ass. They remain still until Din breaks the kiss. "Move," he says unsteadily.

Painfully slow, Cobb draws his cock out and then plunges it back inside him. He wants to be the responsible one, but he can’t help but grunt loudly at the warmth and tightness. Din moans lowly in response, tiredly. Cobb strokes his thighs, his sides, anywhere he can reach. When he is not kissing Din's neck, he is whispering how good he is and how well he is taking it. It seems to soothe the other man. His muscles have relaxed and he begins to go limp in the marshal's arms as he thrusts into him gently. 

Din strains his neck back towards him, and Cobb finds him and kisses him deeply. They continue moving in that proximity, Cobb shifting his thrusts carefully. He’s not sure if Din is comforted by the kiss or if he’s using it to cover up the sounds he’s making. Cobb doesn't go faster, but he starts plunging in deeper, and his thrusts are drawing sudden gasps out of Din. 

He drags his hand underneath him and finds the man’s leaking cock, starting to stroke him in a rising rhythm. Din rises on his elbows to give him space and sighs in relief at the familiar pleasure. His back arches deeply to accommodate Cobb. He starts humming uncertainly at certain angles, and Cobb can tell that he is no longer uncomfortable, that he might have started feeling some kind of pleasure.

It is not enough. Cobb wants to make him feel great. The pace may be driving him insane, but it seems to be working well for Din, who has tentatively begun to move back and forward into Cobb’s hand and cock.

And as Cobb continues thrusting, Din releases a surprised moan which is unmistakably out of pleasure. He chuckles in the Mandalorian's ear. “There?” he asks and tries thrusting again, a bit harder.

Din moans loudly, and that’s the cue for Cobb. He grabs the man’s hips and raises his ass higher to meet him. He resists the urge to start pounding him to a devastating orgasm, leaves the thought aside for some other day. He’s not going fast or hard, but he’s picked up a steady, firm pace that has Din crying out in pleasure and bucking up against him.

Din is moaning abruptly with each thrust, and Cobb continues with much more confidence than before. His thrusts are getting sloppy and he has to hold him by the waist firmly to lead him back and forward in time with his movements. The Mandalorian throws his head back. He gets louder and louder each moment, until his moans turn into an urgent whine. Cobb kisses the back of his neck and shoulder through the orgasm, holding him up as he threatens to collapse again. Din’s muscles clench around him and Cobb comes hard with a loud groan, spilling inside his spasming body.

He collapses on top of him and Din lies down beneath him, crushed by his weight. They both need a moment to pick up their breaths. Din’s body is shaking with aftershocks. Cobb caresses his shoulder soothingly.

“Are you alright?” he whispers.  

“Dizzy,” Din hums against the matrress, intoxicated. "Felt so good." 

“I’m happy to hear that,” Cobb replies and presses a long kiss to Din’s hair as he gets out of him. Din moans softly at the loss. 

Cobb turns over and lays his head down. His chest is heaving. He's had a lot of good sex in his life, but he certainly hasn’t felt anything as intense. He can feel Din trembling beside him. “Come here,” he says, reaching out to drag him closer.

The Mandalorian climbs on top of him and lets his head rest against his chest. His body is slick with semen and sweat. Cobb wants to lick all over him, but he notices how Din's muscles are still convulsing  he can feel his heart flutter wildly against his chest. He shushes him, his fingers digging into the muscles of his back. His hands start wandering, ghosting over old wounds, scars and burn marks. Reminders of who this man is. 

He scoffs to himself, wrapping his hands around him tightly. “I never thought you’d be this sensitive,” he says.

Din stiffens a bit. “I haven’t been touched much. I can’t always…handle it.” he says, and he sounds so self-conscious that Cobb feels stupid for bringing it up.

“It’s beautiful,” he says with honesty. “You’re lovely.”

Din nuzzles against him at that. He appears to be deeply affected by what Cobb says, disturbed by his teasing and eager to hear praise. Cobb raises his chin to place another chaste kiss on his lips, which Din retaliates tiredly, sloppily. 

“Thank you,” he slurs.

Cobb runs soothing circles on his back. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“You were really attentive. I haven’t been treated that way-“

Cobb nods understandingly. “In a long time?”

Din takes a moment to think about it. “Never, actually.” he decides.

Cobb is alarmed by how indifferently he says that. He is inclined to ask about his previous relationships, but Din is laying heavily against him, and it looks like he doesn’t have the energy to lift his head, or even speak anymore. His hands trail down his back, nudging the pressure off his hard muscles. He decides that the poor guy is too comfortable and too pleased to bother talking about the past. He holds him close and feels his chest rise and fall with a content sigh.

Chapter Text

Cobb wakes up with Din sleepily heavily on his chest. The haze of last night has faded away, and he is very aware of the weight and warmth of the naked body against his, of the soft, even breath on his skin. That soothing intimacy feels unreal. It feels unreal that he slept with the Mandalorian.

He notes the exact moment that Din wakes up, nuzzling against his skin with a small grunt. “I have to go control the steering.”

Cobb shifts him to his side to get up and stretches as much as the pod allows him. “I’m going. You stay and sleep a while longer.”

The Mandalorian rises and says, somehow condescendingly. “I don’t know think you know how-“

Vanth kisses him hard to shut him up and feels him go limp in his arms as he leads him back to the covers. Din falls back to the mattress defenselessly as he caresses his chest reassuringly. “Really, stay. You probably haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in days. I’ve got everything under control.”

He pulls the covers over him, and the Mandalorian surrenders without much of a fight. “I appreciate that,” he says quietly. 

The marshal takes several minutes to gather his clothes in the dark. Despite the fuss he makes bumping on the walls around him as he tries to dress in that small space, when he places his hand on the Mandalorian's shoulder, Din doesn’t react. His chest rises and falls with a calm breath. He’s already asleep.

Cobb gets out and stares back at the pod absentmindedly as he ties his boots. He catches a glimpse of dark hair and immediately turns around, his insides twisting at the sight. He closes the door blindly, but his heart is fluttering wildly in his chest.

He didn’t see anything, he hasn’t violated Din, he tells himself, but he can't help but feel like an intruder who stared into something sacred, something that was not meant for his eyes. He hopes he's being dramatic, but he chooses not to mention it to the Mandalorian.  

The Razor Crest is hard to handle. It rustles and churns, in desperate need of repairs. At moments he’s inclined to go wake Din up, but the more minutes pass, the prouder he feels that he can give him this time to rest. He manages to drive with little disturbance until a few hours later, he sees their destination come into view in the far distance.

He feels like gloating about his achievement when he hears the quick footsteps on the stairs. “See? I even put it on autopilot.”

The Mandalorian's hands are on his hair, keeping his head forward. A fabric pulls over his eyes and everything goes dark once more. He can’t help the grin which spreads in his face. “Now what’s that?” he asks. 

He feels him get on his knees between his legs. “You’ll have to help me through it a bit.”

Din unties his trousers and pulls him out. Vanth feels his mouth on his cock, and he groans instantly. Reluctantly, Din sinks down his length, engulfing him in wetness and warmth.

Cobb’s fingers entwine in Din’s hair and he starts leading him up and down his cock carefully. He sets a slow, languid motion that he thinks Din can handle, though he assumes that the Mandalorian wouldn’t resist him even if he held him down against his cock. He has surrendered to his hands and is letting him use him, fully preoccupied with keeping himself from hurting him by accident. 

“You’re so good for me,” Cobb says. 

Din hums around his cock and he shivers at the sensation. He tries to get lower on his length and chokes slightly. Cobb caresses his hair back as he continues, one hand keeping his jaw open. He feels saliva trail down his cock to his groin, feels it drop down Din’s chin.

He curses. “I wish I could see you right now.”

His cock leaves the Mandalorian’s mouth with a wet sound. “I’m glad that you can’t,” he says breathlessly. “I’m a mess.”

He licks up his length hesitantly before taking him in his mouth again. Despite his reserve, Cobb's body burns with satisfaction. "You're amazing," he reassures him. "Astonishing," 

Din releases a muffled moan in response. He starts moving at a faster pace, encouraged by Vanth’s praise. The marshal's grip on his hair is turning hard, and he has to fight to maintain his composure. Din manages to lower himself further down his length and remains still for a few seconds. 

Cobb can usually more or less control himself, but this time he comes abruptly, calling the Mandalorian's name. There is a moment of silence as Din releases his softening cock, and then the sound of him swallowing. Cobb grunts openly.

Din's hands are shaking with anxiety as he accommodates him back inside his briefs and ties his trousers up. “Was I any good?” he asks uneasily.

Vanth pulls him to his feet, setting him on top of his thighs. He angles his jaw and Din parts his lips willingly, letting him taste himself in his mouth. His hands start stroking Din over his trousers, which are wet and very tight around his crotch. Din fidgets on his lap, somewhat uncomfortable as he grows harder under Cobb's touch. He grabs both his hands in a tight grip.

"Let me make it up to you," Cobb complains.

"Some other time," he replies. "I think last night was enough for a while." 

Vanth cups his ass and brings him closer to him. Din wraps his arms around him, his hitched breath steadying gradually. The marshal's hands come up on either side of his face and he smiles brightly, hoping that the man is looking at him. 

“You’re so sweet,”

“Sweet?” the Mandalorian snorts. “That’s new,”

Din’s confidence around Cobb is short-lived. The shyness and self-consciousness that the marshal saw on him during sex extend in their everyday interactions. He has missions outside the ship, missions in which he doesn't allow him to follow. He leaves the child with him, and Vanth thinks that this at least means something. It possibly means a lot.

He returns exhausted and increasingly stressed out. He jolts every time he is touched as if not expecting it. Cobb has found all the junctions where the beskar gives way to fabric, and he rubs Din’s shoulder when he sits next to him, squeezes at his arm when he leaves the room, caresses his inner thigh up to his groin teasingly under the table.

Din is very hesitant to ask for affection, but he seems to long for it. Cobb can tell by the way he leans into his touch as if his life depends on it. He's more than happy to oblige. He assumes that it’s modesty that is freezing him in place whenever he comes near him, can’t begin to imagine that Din has almost broken down in between those moments of intimacy, or that he is driving himself crazy with his insecurities. 

It is by chance that he discovers it. Din is watching him and the child eat, starring thoughtfully at the wall with his hands fumbling anxiously in his lap. Cobb gives his knee a gentle squeeze and Din jerks defensively. The marshal glances at him. "Is this alright?" he asks. 

"Yes, of course," Din replies apologetically, holding his hand over his knee. "I'm so sorry. It's been a hard day." 

Thus far, Cobb can only tell that Din is grateful for whatever he gives him. He can not yet tell he feels unworthy of it. He doesn't doubt that it's been a hard day for him, and he has no idea he's about to make it harder. He leans forward and asks him straightforwardly. "Do you regret what happened between us?" 

Din pulls back in alarm. “I would never regret it. I just...I don't want to force you into anything. What we did that night doesn’t bind you.”   

There is a long pause in which Cobb just stares at him, trying to understand his point. He feels bitter that Din would think that he's treating him well because he feels some sort of obligation or that he sees him as a burden. He feels rather miserable that he has to reassure him about such a thing. 

“I know it doesn’t bind me,” he says, more harshly than he intends. "I'm not being nice to you out of pity." 

Din looks away like he can’t bear his gaze, and his voice sounds disbelieving and terribly defeated. “I know I’m difficult. I’m unpleasant. I’m tiring in bed. Hard to be around.”

Cobb’s ears ring. He can’t begin to unwrap what Din has said, and he fears he'll lose his temper if he does. “Who told you that?”

Din shrugs. “Everyone who’s known me well says that. I’ve spent most of my life alone, yet I still sometimes forget that I’m not supposed to be around people.”

Cobb feels the impulse to kill everyone who has ever known Din well, but he chokes the anger down. He's not angry at him anyway, and he gets the feeling that Din doesn't know that. His mind is fogged with resentment. He tries to come across as clear as possible but ends up adding an aggressive note which is not directed at the Mandalorian. 

“What you just said is complete and utter nonsense, and I’d fight you if I didn’t think you’re exhausted.”

They sink into a tense silence. Din sits rigidly by his side and looks like he wishes he could disappear. It hurts Cobb to even imagine what he is thinking of. He reaches out and wraps a hand around his shoulder to pull him closer. He tries to soften his tone. "Din, none of that is true."

“Thank you for your patience,” he says. “I don’t deserve it.”

What the Mandalorian said doesn't leave Cobb's mind for days. He rearranges his thoughts, tries to understand why Din would believe those things about himself. He cannot think of anything to say because he knows nothing about Din's life. Every day he decides that he's going to talk to him when he returns, and every day he finds him more tired and depleted, and he can't bring himself to bother him any further. By the time they're free to return to the travel, the Mandalorian has run himself ragged. He is torn, drained by anxiety, wounded from fights he doesn't want to talk about. All he wants to do is see the child, which he carries in his arms for almost an hour before putting it to sleep and crawling into the pod himself for the first time in days.  

Whatever grand speech Vanth was prepared to deliver gets erased in light of Din's condition. He doesn't know what to say to convince him of his fondness for him. All he can do is show him. He's tentative. He doesn't want to distress a man who has admittedly not been touched in years, who has put so much meaning into whatever his partner does and says, and who has presented a well-put argument on why he doesn’t deserve to be treated well.

He knocks at the door of the pod. “Do you want me there?” he asks, fully prepared to be sent away.  

The door opens and Cobb brings his palm over his eyes. He slides in and hears it close behind him. 

He finds him in the dark and caresses the hair away from his face. They kiss softly, Din's hands coming up to draw him closer. Cobb undresses him slowly, piece by piece. His hands gently stroke his chest and abdomen until he finds the burnt flesh where the Mandalorian has cauterized a fresh wound on his side. His fingers ghost over the spot carefully, but Din hisses and writhes in pain under him.

Cobb leans down and kisses around the edge of the wound. His lips travel around his upper body, his heaving chest and stomach, his taut shoulders and exposed neck. Wherever he feels old cuts and burns, he presses soft kisses on them. He feels the goosebumps on Din's skin under his lips. 

“Does this hurt?” he asks.

“Not when you do it,” Din replies. 

Cobb kisses a line from his sternum down to his cock before capturing his waist in a hard grip. He turns him over onto his stomach. His hands run down his back on either side of his spine before squeezing at his ass. Din makes a small sound at the back of his throat but stays perfectly still. Cobb spreads his cheeks apart and licks a long stripe from his balls to the small of his back, holding him firmly as he jerks in his grip and shouts in shock. 

He senses that this is bound to be great for both of them. His lips trail along his cheeks and he works down to his hole with wet kisses. He pushes his tongue against his hole, and Din whimpers desperately. His body is trembling harder than it did last time, and Cobb encourages him to lay down, spreads his knees apart to access to him. He licks him thoroughly and patiently until he feels him open for him. 

Din is almost sobbing with pleasure. He writhes involuntarily, and Cobb locks him into a tight grip, forcing him into stillness. He rejoices in hearing him cry with desire, melting onto the mattress. Uncoiling before him. 

“Vanth!” he calls out urgently like he has been trying to get the word out for some time now.

Cobb nibbles gently at his skin, drawing a sudden shout out of him. "Yes?" he replies coyly. 

The Mandalorian is struggling to catch his breath in order to speak, but Cobb doesn't feel like letting him. He crawls over his body and places his hands between his chest and the mattress, rubbing his nipples until they harden. His cock is pressing between his slick cheeks, hard and heavy. 

"I want you inside me," Din moans brokenly, hanging his head down in shame which doesn't surpass his need. 

Vanth is not exempt to that need. The words send a shiver up his spine and make his cock twitch to attention. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, placing a last kiss on his rim. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Vanth manoeuvres him onto his side and lays beside him. Din is breathing heavily with arousal as Vanth coats his ass in lube. Experimentally, he places his fingers on his lips and the Mandalorian takes them in his mouth and licks them eagerly. 

He is wet and loose enough for him to easily slide two fingers inside him. Din releases a strangled moan of relief at the friction. Cobb takes his time feeling the soft muscles which flutter around his fingers. His free hand moves to hold Din's leg up, making more space for himself. He feels his body loosening more and more as he scissors his fingers inside him.

He lines himself with Din's entrance and pushes inside in one long, steady thrust. This time is different than their first. They moan in unison as his cock reaches as deep as he can go, the Mandalorian gasping in awe when he settles inside him. He starts rocking into him rhythmically, his other hand moving underneath him to pull him closer. 

Din turns around and kisses around his cheek, searching for his mouth. He kisses him yearningly, and Cobb is taken aback by his zest. He cannot understand what it is that Din is craving for so hard.

He whines when Cobb angles himself to reach deeper inside him. Not giving him another moment to adjust, Cobb starts thrusting into the spot repeatedly. Din shouts in a language he doesn't recognize, seemingly pleased that the marshal is finally sharing his passion.

“Harder,” he breathes out.

He had planned on being as tender as possible, but at the moment it seems that Din is neither tired nor torn, but simply on edge. He starts pounding into him hard, pushing against the wet, crushing tightness. His pace is rough and relentless. He captures Din's chin in a steady grip. “Do you like that?” he asks.

“Ah yes!” he shouts urgently. 

The sounds become muffled as Cobb goes faster. He reaches out to find him biting onto his knuckles to keep himself quiet. Cobb removes his hand from his mouth and entwines their fingers together. “Let me hear you,” he says.

He runs his hand over Din’s hair and draws him close. His lips trace the line of his jaw, his lips, his brows. He can place each and every characteristic, yet he cannot form a complete image of what the man looks like. No matter how much he feels his skin, the image eludes him.

He is dying to see him. At that moment, he senses that Din is thinking the same thing. Part of him feels that Din may even want the same thing. “How can you not see how beautiful you are?” he asks. 

Din cannot repress his pleasure. Cobb's thrusts become faster and harder, and Din writhes and bares his neck. Cobb kisses him, paying close attention to the sounds he is making. The Mandalorian sounds slightly embarrassed as his breath hitches up dramatically. His voice comes out strangled and he chants a litany of yes, yes, harder, dizzy with desire. 

Whatever reservations Cobb had are long gone. He holds him down as he struggles, hitting his prostate repeatedly even when he cries out and starts spending over his own stomach.  

"There you go.” he encourages him, stroking his thigh. “Just like that.”

Din's body tenses and he strains against Cobb as he spasms around his cock, choking his cry with a long kiss, until he drops his head back to the mattress. 

“Well done,” Cobb whispers into his skin. “Well done, sweetheart.”

"Vanth, I-" he slurs. "I want you to come too."

Cobb smiles and goes still inside him. Din pushes back against him insistently. "Now," 

He's touched by the fact that he has the mind to think about him in the midst of this rough session. He places a kiss on his cheek and shifts them both around. He accommodates Din on his hands and knees, his back bending gracefully with his guidance. Cobb's hands hold onto his waist. His body is shaking, sensitive and used. 

The marshal can move with great precision when he wants to, though he usually likes to take his time with his partners. Din is unfolding before him in all his glory and he seems willing to draw this out as long as Cobb wants, to take whatever he gives him, but Cobb doesn't want to cross his limits, not now. He starts moving inside him in deep, hard thrusts which built up his orgasm steadily. His force and speed press Din face down against the mattress. His muscles spasm around him, pushing him to the edge. He comes with three hard thrusts which have Din jolting in shock and chocking out wrecked moans. 

The tension that had overwhelmed them during those days seems to have faded away after their coupling. They are content to simply lie down together for a few moments. 

Din grunts loudly as he turns onto his back. "I'm filthy," he says, still sounding disoriented. 

Cobb straddles his hips and rests on top of him. He places a hand flat on his chest, feeling his heart beat rapidly underneath his sweaty skin. He spreads the remaining semen on his stomach and says. "Yes, you are." 

Din pushes him away with a scandalized scoff. “And whose fault is that?”

He's in much higher spirits than when he arrived at the ship, and Cobb cannot contain his happiness at that. He leans down to his level again. "If I knew I could just fuck the anxiety out of you-" 

For the first time in their relationship, the Mandalorian demonstrates that he is, in fact, a man who can break him at any moment, and practically hurls him to the side to release himself. Cobb laughs and holds onto him, feels his chest shake with laughter too. 

He holds him by the shoulder, walking through the Razor Crest in the blindfold until they’ve reached what Din calls the shower, a square, narrow room where freezing cold water shoots at one's body with punishing force from all directions. The first time Cobb had left the shower shivering and sore, he had joked about it being a Mandalorian torture device. The Mandalorian didn’t appreciate the humor, but he had allowed Cobb to make some adjustments.

They can barely even turn in the room, their bodies pressed together tightly. Din somehow manages to close the door. Cobb feels his feverish skin, lays his palm over his burn protectively but doesn't quite touch it.

“You should stop cauterizing your body. I bet you can afford bacta.”

“I don’t have the patience to wait for bacta to heal me.”

Cobb takes his chin in his hand and leads him into a kiss. “You looked pretty patient to me.”

Din smiles slightly against his lips. He reaches to turn the shower on and scorching water cascades down their bodies.  

The Mandalorian gasps in surprise. “The water’s warm,”

“Yeah, I fixed it,” he replies. “It was really easy. I wonder why you hadn’t done it.”

He smells the soap as Din starts spreading it on his skin. “Warm water is a luxury,” he says. 

Cobb rolls his eyes behind the fabric. He wants to call him stupid, but he’s not sure how he'd take that. “Will you just try to be kind to yourself, Din? For me?”

His hands move to rub the soap on Din’s back, massaging the tense muscles and washing away the sweat. Din relaxes under the warmth of the water and gentle pressure of his touch, grunting as he rolls his shoulders. He bends his head forward against Cobb's chest. “That feels nice,” he murmurs. “You’re making me soft.”

“I’m going to spoil you so bad now that I’m here, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Cobb says.

His hand lands a hard slap on Din's backside, and the Mandalorian gasps and clings against his chest in shock. His hands trail off to Cobb’s body, spreading soap on his skin tentatively, as if he is considering the possibility of him pushing him away.

Soap, sweat and semen trail down their legs until all that is left is clean water, but they stay a while longer. Damp strays of hair tickle Cobb's chin where Din has tucked his head. Dark hair, he remembers. He feels the steam rising around them. They remain still in the silence, locked in a tight embrace. 

Cobb hates to ruin this perfect moment.

“Why did you say those things about yourself?”

Din takes a deep breath and holds it.  “I don’t want to be this way. Normally I don’t let myself have any of this because I know that I start to lose it every time I get close to someone,”

Cobb grunts even though he was prepared to hear something ridiculous. Din continues before he has the chance to lecture him. “I didn't mean to upset you, but I couldn't bear the thought of you growing sick of me. You're so kind, and I've been so alone…” his voice trails off, lost in thought. “I thought I was used to it. I was ready to live that life forever.”

At this point, it feels like Din is speaking more to himself than to him. Cobb tightens his grip around him, squeezes him against his body. 

“I don’t know what you’ve been through or what kind of people you’ve had in your life, but you deserve to be treated well. One way or another, I’m going to get that through your thick head.”

Din chuckles. “Good luck with that.”

Chapter Text

The destination of their journey remains a mystery to the marshal. The Razor Crest wanders around the galaxy, yet never settles in a single place. He follows the Mandalorian on his missions, runs errands for him without being told the purpose, and is somehow perfectly content to return to the ship at the end of the day and hold him in his arms until he falls asleep. Perfectly content to comfort him with vague promises when he jolts up at night drenched in sweat and refuses to tell him what's wrong. The boundaries are set in stone. Whatever burden Din Djarin is carrying, he's not willing to share it with Vanth. 

That is until that TIE fighter cuts through the clouds and starts firing at Din and the child. Cobb has perfect reflexes. He shoots in wrath, but with precision. The vessel wraps up in flames and disappears behind the dunes.

He finds the Mandalorian on his knees, holding a beyond terrified child against his chest. His grip is amazingly strong, but his hands are trembling. He doesn’t lift his gaze when the marshal kneels next to them. Doesn’t react to the child screaming in his ears. He seems lost.

Cobb reaches for the child because he’s not sure what’ll happen if he touches Din. At the state the Mandalorian is in, he’s surprised to find his grip relaxing to let him take him. Cobb holds the child and extends his free hand to him. “We must go,” he says.

Din finally looks up at him. Cobb cannot see his expression, but he can feel the frozen terror down to his bones. There’s no time for consolation. “I know,” he says. “But we must go now.”

They run to the ship like they’re being chased, which Cobb suspects they are. Din drives with incredible speed, cutting through skies, jumping in and out of hyperspace with no sign of knowing where he’s headed. Hours later, when they’re out of harm’s way, the shaking has not ceased, and he hasn't spoken a single word. He’s still not there.

Cobb doesn't know what to say. He hopes his presence is helpful, but it's killing him that he doesn't even understand what happened. “Din, it’s over now,” he says softly. “Calm down.”

He knows that may not be entirely true. Whoever was in that ship could've killed both of them. He can’t imagine the horror Din felt in the prospect of losing his child, and he doesn’t want to either. Still, the Mandalorian is not as rational as he likes to think. He wants to be told that things are alright, so Cobb lies, and he gets a lie in response.

“I am calm.”

He sighs quietly, tries to mask his own distress behind his even voice. “Maybe you should stop here. We must’ve crossed half the galaxy by now.”

Din drags himself off his seat and starts walking to him. Cobb grabs onto his hand and squeezes it tightly. Much to his surprise, the Mandalorian allows him to lead him to sit onto his lap. Cobb runs his hand up and down his side, where there's only fabric. “That was terrifying,” he says.

Din rests his head against his shoulder, hard beskar against his skin. “I don’t know what I’ll do if anything happens to the child. I’ll die.”

“Don’t say that.” Cobb interrupts him. “Nothing’s going to happen to him.”

But Din is in the mood for revelations. He starts talking about the remains of the Empire, about Imperial officers in search of an ancient power, about a mission which ended with him becoming the father of a child whose powers he could not begin to comprehend.

In the end, he falls into silence to let Cobb gather his thoughts. The marshal doesn't know where to begin. His mind starts racing to potential strategies and solutions when Din breaks the silence again, his voice eerily flat. 

“I understand if you want to leave.”

“Leave? Din, sweetheart, why would I want to leave you?” he says softly, though he feels the urge to scream at Din for even considering it. He grabs onto his shoulders and pushes him back to face him. “Listen to me. You’re one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy. I’m here for you now. We’re not going to let anyone hurt him.”

Din doesn’t speak, but he turns his head slightly to glance at him. Cobb shakes him slightly, trying to get him off this haze. “I know you’re stronger than me, and this probably doesn’t mean much, but…For what it’s worth, you’re safe too. I’m not letting anything happen to you either.”

The Mandalorian places his hands on the helmet and Cobb instinctively covers his eyes.

He tucks his head into the crook of his neck and takes a deep, shaky breath, taking in Cobb's scent. “Don’t open your eyes,” he says. “Please,”

“I won’t,” he reassures him and brings a hand up to caress his hair. 

“I mean-“ he chokes out. “I don’t even know about the helmet anymore. Everything I believed about myself-”

“Everything will be alright,” the marshal says. “You’ll see.”

Cobb doesn't know that. Din knows that Cobb doesn't know that. He still clings to him like he's clinging to life itself, muttering thank you under his breath. 

The panic wears off over time even though the threat still lays over their heads. They travel alone and don't stay anywhere for more than a few hours. Eventually, it's the ship itself that decides to throw them outside as it starts breaking down.

Din acknowledges that it’s time for a repair and takes them to Peli Motto. She seems to know him well, judging by the look in her eyes when she sees the child, and the small droids running around in panic at the sight of the Mandalorian. So well that Din decides that the child is safe with her while they find a room to stay.

They settle in the town nearby, in a remote room which the Mandalorian searches thoroughly before letting him come inside. He's shutting the blinds when Cobb arrives and pushes Din's body against the window. He's pressed up against beskar and fabric, but Din evidently gets the sentiment. He releases a low groan at the back of his throat and pushes his hips back against him in a way which Cobb knows better by now than to think is obliviously innocent.

He reaches over to roughly rub the fabric on Din's groin and feels him harden in his hand. “This Mandalorian thing…You’re not supposed to see a Mandalorian’s face, but can you see his body?”

Din needs a few moments to think about it, distracted by Cobb's touch. “The rules are somewhat flexible around that. As long as the face is covered, a Mandalorian may reveal skin if he is in need of treatment, or in front of…” his breath hitches and he leans back against him. “A lover.”

Cobb tries not to sound too smug, but he can't help himself. “So there’s nothing stopping me from stripping you naked?”

Din whimpers lowly, and Cobb suspects it's not a purely physical reaction. He turns him over and holds his hands in his. The Mandalorian looks down as if he doesn't want to make eye contact, even though there couldn't be any due to the helmet. He knows that the decision lays entirely on him, and that the marshal is willing to forget about it entirely. He gives Cobb's hands a squeeze and nods quietly. 

Vanth holds his right hand and slowly removes the black glove, revealing the tan skin underneath. He smiles, looking up at him lovingly as he strokes the smooth skin with his thumb. Din relaxes visibly and releases a deep sigh. He leads Cobb's hands to the beskar on his chest as he starts working his armor off. 

There is a ritualistic attribute to it. They untie and clip off the pieces of armor together, similar to Cobb’s, though much superior. Din is silent and reserved, removing the beskar carefully and respectfully. He sets the armor on the table and turns to the him expectantly.

Cobb starts working the buttons in his shirt and pulls it off his shoulders, exposing Din's chest. The Mandalorian shrinks down before him like he wants to disappear. He wraps his hands around his shoulders protectively, and Cobb strokes up his arms soothingly until he lets go. 

He moves his hands to his trousers and starts untying them, leading him back onto the bed before pushing him on it and slowly pulling down his trousers and underwear, exposing his hips inch by inch, the v-cut line of his obliques, the well-trimmed dark hair. Finally releasing his erection, Din's cock presses up against his stomach, already leaking with precum.

Now fully naked, Din shudders under his gaze as Cobb grabs his legs and spreads them apart widely to stand between them.

"Let me get a good look at you," he says and rears back to observe him. 

It's fascinating to finally see this body that he knows so well, the lines and curves that he traces blindly in the dark, the faded injuries he's kissed over so many times. Dark hickeys mark Cobb's favorite parts of the Mandalorian's body, his collarbone, his chest, his inner thighs. Cobb is overwhelmed by desire and affection for him.

Din keeps looking down at himself and then up at Cobb’s face, desperately monitoring his reaction. He looks so terribly uneasy, obviously in need of one of Cobb's infamous lessons. The marshal almost feels bad at how much he loves this.  

“Why don’t you touch yourself for me?” he suggests.

Din writhes in desperation. This has been an issue for them. He's ashamed of doing anything for his own pleasure. He only takes what he's given, which is only what Cobb gives him. The marshal is more than happy to provide, feels he'll never run out of affection for this fool, but he can't rest until Din admits that he deserves it. After all, he's in no hurry himself. He wants to take in Din's beauty in his own time.

“Vanth,” the Mandalorian says in a small voice.

“For me?” he repeats, smiling coyly.

Din tentatively takes his cock in his hand and starts palming himself in slow, gentle motions. There's no eye contact from Cobb's point of view, but the Mandalorian is looking at him steadily, and Cobb can feel his gaze on his. His eyes fixate on Din's beautiful hand, stroking up and down his slick cock. He nods encouragingly and Din releases an aroused sigh.

The sight of Din touching himself, however anxious and uncertain he is, is amazingly erotic to Cobb and he feels that it's taking them both into a whole new level of intimacy. His trousers are becoming much too tight at this point. This discovery seems to give Din some confidence. He spreads his knees further and tries to breathe steadily through the pleasure. The muscles on his stomach twitch slightly, his thighs quiver and his legs kick out involuntarily. 

"Will you touch me?" he asks needily.  

There's an edge to his voice that warns Cobb that he's close to releasing, and he certainly doesn't want it that way. Cobb smiles at him and places his hand over his to make him stop, cradling his cock. “I love it when you get shy,” he says. “You have no idea how beautiful you are, sweetheart. I could just watch you all day long." 

He gets undressed carelessly until he notices how Din is watching his hands remove the layers of his clothing. He realizes that the Mandalorian doesn't see him naked very often either. Of course, he sees his skin and several parts of his body, but he's rarely been fully naked in front of him. Cobb smiles confidently and removes his underwear, watching Din squirm shyly and look away. 

He sits on the bed and slaps his hand on his lap. “Come here,”

Din looks at him uncertainly, yet Cobb knows he wants to, and it doesn't take long for him to put his prudency aside. He lays down over his lap and allows Cobb to accommodate him into a comfortable position.

Cobb smooths his hand over his ass. He slaps him once and Din jolts in surprise, unaccustomed to the feeling and probably very scandalized by it. He slaps him again, increasingly harder and on different spots until he finds the right pattern.

The pace and force is not painful, but rather firm. Din gasps sharply with each slap, grinding against Cobb. In between swats, the marshal rubs his hand over the soft skin which is slowly turning red. He spanks him repeatedly on the same spot and Din hisses, yet spreads his legs further to give him more access. His fingers brush over the tender skin between his cheeks, cradling his balls gently before giving him two very hard swats over each cheek. Din's toes wiggle.

His cock is pressing insistently on Cobb's thigh, staining him with precum. Cobb's own erection is pressing up against Din, and he's growing increasingly aroused the more the Mandalorian writhes in his lap.

Cobb finds the lube and starts working him open with his fingers. It's a much more familiar procedure, and Din moves back against him until Cobb slaps him hard back into his place.

"Be a good boy for me, will you? Just a while longer," he coos and Din drops his head down with a low groan.

Din always alerts him when he's found his prostate, jolting up and moaning loudly. He starts rubbing small circles inside him and spanks him with his free hand, feels him clench around his fingers. Din wraps his hands around Cobb's leg. Cobb knows him well enough by now to know that he’s burning with arousal and shame. 

He helps him move out of the position and lays him down on the sheets. Din sprawls out on the bed and Cobb takes his legs and brings them over his shoulders. He leans forward, effectively folding Din over and holding him down with his weight. 

He aligns himself with Din's entrance and holds onto his hand as he pushes inside him. The muscles on his abdomen tense and his breath catches in his throat momentarily before releasing into a passionate moan. Cobb remains still inside him as he adjusts and caresses down his thighs, over the marks he has left. "I love those," Din says breathlessly.

"Yeah?" Cobb asks. "You want some more?"

"Yes," he replies and cries sharply in unison Cobb as he braces himself on his hands he starts moving inside him smoothly. 

He sets a slow, steady pace. His lips find his chest, licking over his nipples before moving to suck on his burning skin, leaving more marks. Gentle, muffled moans leave the helmet. His hands move up and down Cobb's arms, feeling his tense muscles. He looks just as awed as him.

“You feel so good,” Cobb says. "Everything about you turns me on, sweetheart. I’m so lucky to have you.”

He stills inside him to give him a few moments to breathe. The Mandalorian is already a bit too sensitive from the spanking, but he doesn't look satiated by Cobb's gentleness. He groans impatiently. Cobb chuckles and just rests his head against his helmet for a moment. Din's hands wrap up around him in a fierce embrace. He seems to be very touched by the gesture. 

He starts moving again, leaving wet kisses and hickeys over his shoulders. Din's cock occasionally brushes over Cobb's skin and he jolts and yelps at the sensation, desperate for more. He cups his cheek and Cobb loses his focus for a moment. The Mandalorian may be naked in front of a lover for the first time, but this is all very new for him too. Usually, Din lies down and lets Vanth take care of him, tries very hard to keep his feelings to himself. Now he's being incredibly emotional.

The marshal takes his hand and presses a kiss on it before pinning it over his head. Din moans softly as he starts to pick up the pace and nods encouragingly at him. Cobb rises up to get a better view and continues plunging inside him. 

“So I’m your lover, huh?”

The Mandalorian whines shamefully in response.

“And you’re my lover?” 

“Yes,” he replies, a desperate, breathless cry leaving the helmet.

Cobb moves back and grabs onto his legs, gently kissing across his calf. Din breathes heavily like he’s bracing for something. Cobb pulls back and snaps his hips forward, hitting his prostate in one swift motion, watching Din with admiration as he cries out and arches over the sheets.

He had been hesitant at first, but he now knows that Din doesn't need to be coddled, that he wants Cobb when he's gentle and rough and calm and possessive, as long as he's loving. He leads Din's hand onto his cock and this time the Mandalorian starts touching himself without protest, unbearably aroused, leaking precum all over his hand. Cobb grabs onto his legs for leverage and starts pounding him to his climax, feeling his own orgasm build.

He usually pauses or at least eases up on him while he’s coming because it feels like his orgasm is already way too intense. It looks like it too. Din grabs onto the sheets desperately with his free hand and bares his neck, his entire body arches and tenses up. He looks absolutely wrecked the harder he goes, and Cobb feels his own orgasm sync with his. Din shouts his name as he starts spending over his hand and stomach and Cobb continues harshly through his aftershocks, watching him moan in shock when he feels Cobb spend inside him.

He always feels ecstatic inside him, especially when they've both released and he can simply stay still in Din's wet, used body. He leans down and takes him in his mouth carefully, running his tongue over his length. Din whimpers softly, writhing with sensitivity despite Cobb's gentleness. He comes embarrassingly fast whenever Cobb sucks on him, and if he hadn't just orgasmed, he'd be hardening on Cobb's mouth. He licks him clean all the way up to his chest, pressing wet kisses over his stomach before getting back up.  

Din's skin is glistening with sweat and saliva. His muscles shake with every breath he takes. He looks completely undone, and this is hardly the roughest session they've had. Cobb thinks about how he must've looked those other times, wonders what he can do to him in the future. The Mandalorian stiffens a little the longer he observes him. 

Cobb hates to part with the sight of him, but he likes his Mandalorian comfortable and happy. "Do you want me to get you dressed?" he asks.

Din's hand traces the wall until he finds the switch. The room emerges into darkness and they push Din's helmet off together. 

Cobb caresses the damp hair out of his face and strokes his cheek when he rises up to meet him for a gentle, fatigued kiss. He hovers over him and kisses him back passionately, lets his lips trail off to his chin and neck. He kisses his forehead before pressing his own against it. "Was it good?" he asks.

"Stars, Cobb," Din says, his voice slightly hoarse. “I used to shudder at the very thought of being naked in front of someone. I've never felt that way before you. So exposed." he pauses as if he's searching for words. "So wanted." 

A ting of worry echoes in Cobb's, but at least Din got one sentiment right. He is very wanted. Cobb acknowledges that he's also very vulnerable in front of him. To have spent almost your entire life safe behind layers upon layers of armor, and to suddenly be completely exposed in front of a person you desired must've been overwhelming. It seems almost cruel in retrospect.  

“Oh Din, I hope I haven’t upset you,” he says.

“You could never upset me," Din replies, straining up for another kiss. “I trust you.”

Cobb presses his forehead against his and hopes Din understands or at least senses what a great privilege it is for him to hear that. A few moments later he collapses on the bed by his side and Din automatically climbs on his chest, hitching one leg over him. It's strange to admit it, but he longs for the pod, where he can't move in the slightest without feeling Din's body pressed against his, can't sleep without him on his chest, a mess of tangled limbs and blankets. This bed feels cold, full of space they'd never use. He brings the heavy blanket over them and caresses his hair absently, hearing his breath slow down and become steady and quiet.

He murmurs his name quietly and Din jolts back to consciousness, his reflexes always on edge. He raises his head off his chest and waits for him to speak.

“I can’t believe you thought I might leave,” Cobb says.

“A clever man would've,” Din replies in his infuriating matter-of-fact way. 

“Well, if you want to get rid of me, you’re going to have to drag me out of your ship by the hair. And while you might have the muscle to do it,” he slaps his thigh to emphasize and Din grunts. “You lack the determination.”

The Mandalorian huffs and lays his head back on his chest. “Keep waking me up to talk nonsense and I might find the determination.”

“Oh, you bet I will.” he laughs. “And you’ll still want me.”

"Maybe." Din replies. “But I won’t make it easy for you either.”

Cobb presses a kiss into his hair blindly. "You're not as difficult to handle as you pretend," 

Din doesn't respond to that. “Cobb,” he says, suddenly serious. “Don’t be deceived. There may be no land in sight. We’ll spend a very long time with each other, adrift, where no one can find us.”

“Are you trying to turn me on again?”

“Stop it, I’m serious!” he complains. "You don't understand-" 

"No, Din, you don't understand." Cobb interrupts him and captures his chin in his hand. "I care very much for you. Do you know that?" 

There's a moment of silence and Din says, so low that Cobb barely hears it, and certainly not as confidently as he would've liked it. "Yes," 

"I'll always be there for you. I think you already know that." 

"I do," Din says and tries to move closer to Cobb, who pushes him down firmly. He's making a speech. Din may like to smother it in affection, but he won't have it his way this time.

“There's nowhere I'd rather be than adrift, alone with you,” he says firmly. "Do you understand that?"

"Yes," he says softly.

It's not particularly determined, but it's genuine. Din knows he's wanted, that he belongs to Cobb and Cobb belongs to him, that he can trust him and that he's not alone.

Cobb concedes, leans forward to find his lips and feels him smile into the kiss.