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Chapter Text

They’d been married for two years when Din finally noticed the scars.

Between both of them covered from neck down and even more most of the time and the moments of intimacy being fleeting, desperate where they didn’t have the time, energy or space to fully undress, he could almost justify why he hadn’t fully noticed. He’d seen bits of scaring along his collar bone as he kissed it. Felt bumps and slithers along his spine and the small of his back. But it wasn’t till this morning that he could fully see the extent of the scars.

They were horrific. It was like a red parasite had buried under his skin and spread out like a network of poisonous roots. In the amber morning light, they looked blood red. Fresh. He couldn’t even see the worst of it: his binder was covering it. He didn’t know what caused them. Whether they hurt or not.

Curious, Din brushed a finger at a scar end. Luke flinched and Din’s heart shattered. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about all the times he’d touched Luke’s skin.

Every moment of intimacy distorted and corrupted instantly.

Every touch had caused Luke pain. And Din had done more than just touch him. He’d grabbed him. Gripped his arms. Kissed him like they were dying because they had been. They’re were a few scars he’d personally left. Bites along his collar bone. Bruises on his arm from griping too tight. Luke had left a few on him too, but seeing the other scars felt like he’d just caused more pain to the man with a heart that could hold the galaxy and the power to do it.

Memories that used to be sweet became nightmares.

“Can we—“ Luke had breathed into his ear, “can we try something else?”

Din nodded into his shoulder. They were cramped together in a corner of the ship whose name he couldn’t remember. There wasn’t much room to switch positions or even fully disrobe themselves. But Din held Luke by the waist as he wiggled from being pressed flat against the ground to sitting more upright, his back against the wall of pipes that probably weren’t made with this purpose in mind.

“Does—does this—is this ok?” Luke asked. “With your armor—on top—feeling crushed…”

Truth be told, he couldn’t think in any position he was in with Luke Skywalker. They could be holding gloved hands and Din would forget how to speak. He was still amazed he managed a nod.

If that had been the only time Luke had asked for a more pleasant position, Din might have been able to brush it off. But now every little wince Luke had made felt like Din had stabbed him.

“Are you alright?” 

A different encounter. One with more room, less clothes. At least, the armor and helmet were off this time. In a bed, even if it wasn’t one they could call their own. But it was no less dark. It was always dark in these moments.

“Hmhm.”

Luke soft hum was muddled by the pillow. Din couldn’t tell if Luke was smiling or not.

‘Are you hurt? Am I hurting you? Do you not want this as much as I do? Am I doing something wrong? Tell me, my love. I’d rearrange the stars if you asked. Let me make you feel loved. Show me how.’ Was what Din wanted to say.

“You’re wincing.” Was what he said, regretting his word choice even more now than what he did back then.

Luke gave a light laugh then gripped Din’s hand tighter. 

“I’m alright.” Luke said. “I don’t bruise easily. Keep going, love.”

That was a lie and Din knew it. The man bruised like an over ripe meiloorun fruit. But he hadn’t stopped.

Now he felt sick.

Even their first encounter had been a tell if Din had just seen it back then instead of being so focused on the idea of being able to kiss Luke.

“Mind my chest.” Luke said. “It’s…it’s a sore subject. Everything else can be yours tonight.”

Luke had worn a blindfold that first time. And every time until they were officially married and Din finally felt comfortable showing his face.

He remembered that first time clearer than any other. It was very much the first time. With awkward kisses and neither one sure where to put their arms. 

But the moment Din’s lips found the crook of Luke’s neck and Luke’s hands had found Din’s hair, they were home. 

“Here.” 

Luke’s breathy whispered tickled his ear before Luke’s kissed it. Then Luke exposed more of his neck, offering it to Din.

Then, he offered the rest. 

Din remembered pulling apart for a moment, too enamored by Luke’s face to bother looking at the parts of Luke that were already pressed flush against him.

He looked at ease. Too at ease for someone who was blind and nearly bare. He trusted Din. And Din couldn’t comprehend why. If someone had told him to wear a blind fold and disrobe, he’d probably shoot them. 

But that’s how Luke was: sprawled out beneath him. Trusting him completely. 

Luke always put Din’s comfort first. And up until this moment, Din had thought he’d done the same.

 And now Din felt as if he’s failed him. That Luke had put his trust in the wrong person. 

Even memories of taking Luke’s hand now felt sinister. Even if Luke had always squeezed his back. Maybe Luke hadn’t wanted to be touched at all. Maybe his requests weren’t because that’s what he liked: it’s just what hurt the least.

“What have you been through.”

The words escaped his lips. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to know what happened at the same time he didn’t. If there was anything he could do. But asking now would be admitting he’d never noticed before.

Luke hadn’t mentioned it before. That probably meant he didn’t want to talk about it. There was so much he didn’t want to talk about. He didn’t even know Senator Organa was his sister until a few months ago and made him swear to never tell anyone. He didn’t ask why about that and Luke never brought it up. Luke didn’t talk about his past. Din didn’t talk about his.

If they talked, which was rare, it was about the moment. The future wasn’t assured. The past was too painful.

Whatever Din had faced, he was certain Luke had faced worse.

He’d been woken by Luke tossing around in midst of a nightmare numerous times and held them for the rest of the night without waking him or even talking about it in the morning other than asking how he slept. And he was certain Luke had done the same to him only much more effective since he had the magic thing. He had faint memories of nightmares abruptly stopping only to be replaced of dreams of warm hugs on brisk nights. But they’d never said a word the following morning.

At least, he thought it was because Luke didn’t want to talk about it. But now it seemed it was because Luke couldn’t trust Din to not hurt his body: how could he trust him with his mind?

“What’s wrong, love?”

What ever remained of Din’s shattered heart froze. Luke was awake. He’d probably woken up when Din so carelessly touched his scar, hurting him to wake up.

“Nothing.” Din said.

“You’re crying.”

Luke cupped his hand to Din’s cheek, wiping the tears away. He did this whenever Din wasn’t wearing his helmet and Din usually responded by kissing his palm. But he couldn’t do it today. His hands weren’t scarred but he couldn’t trust his lips to not be rough.

He wanted to put his armor on. Nine hells, he wanted to put the beskar on Luke to ensure that he would never get hurt again. That he would never hurt Luke again. He turned away. He couldn’t even bare to look at Luke right now. All his could see where those scars on his chest. He tried to get off the bed, but Luke pulled him down.

“Come back to sleep. It’s too early for tears.”

Luke tried to pull Din on top of him. Their chest pressed for less than a breath before Din scrambled off of him. Luke didn’t reach for him this time.

“Did—did I do something?” Luke asked.

“No.” Din said instantly.

Like always, the tightness in his throat suffocated his feelings before they could reach his mouth.

‘You did nothing wrong. You’re a star shining so bright you’re seen through the thickest smog of coruscant. I’m the one that failed you. I’ve hurt you and I didn’t even notice.’

He put his head in his hands. Just last night, Luke had gripped his hair as he did now, but where Luke had twirled with his lose curls, he wanted to pull it out. Luke slid next to him. He wanted to push him away but that would involve touching him.

“Let me help you.”

Even now when Din was complete mess, Luke was treating him with an unworldly level of grace. He wished Luke would huff and say ‘fine’ before leaving Din.

He wasn’t sure how long it took for him to even turn his head in Luke’s direction.

From how still Luke sat, it could have been minutes or hours thought he suspected the first as the amber light of morning still peaked through the blinds. He wanted to look Luke in the eye, but his eyes caught on the scars Luke must have followed his eyes because he pressed a hand to his chest: right where Din was staring. Only, Luke didn’t flinch when he touched them. Maybe only Din’s hands hurt them.

“They’re just scars.” Luke said, as if that meant nothing. “Your back looks worse.”

That was probably true. He’d run away so many times, it made sense that his back looked like cutting board. But Luke’s were on his front. He’d gotten them facing something, or someone, head on. Knowing Luke, probably standing between something sinister and something he loved.

“Does it hurt?” Din asked, eyes on Luke’s hand now.

Luke’s breath hitched which did little to calm Din’s frantic state. But his hand was still touching them. Maybe it wasn’t the scars that hurt. Maybe it was the memory of how he got them.

“Sometimes.”

Luke’s voice was hushed like he didn’t want Din to hear. But Din had heard. They did hurt. Luke confirmed it. Anytime Din touched Luke’s scars, he hurt him. And his scars were everywhere. Almost like he could read Din’s mind (because he probably could), Luke took Din’s hand and tried to press it against his chest. But Din snatched his hand back.

Luke sighed.

“Love,” Luke said, “you’re not going to hurt me.”

“But I have.” Din said.

He expected Luke to scoff. Or to snap and tell Din to get out and that he never wanted to see him again. That he couldn’t stand how Din continued to hurt him. He wanted Luke to scream at him. But Luke just rested his head on Din’s lap. Probably because the morning fog made Luke want someone, anyone, warm to press against to before he came to his senses. But the way Luke locked his eyes on his made him rethink this, even if only by a bit.

“A little.” Luke said. “But nothing I haven’t wanted.”

Luke tilted his head, showing a bite mark Din had left on his neck. If that was meant to make Din feel better, it didn’t. He wanted Luke off of him. But he couldn’t see how to force him without touching him. He didn’t have the magic Luke had to move things without touching them. The only thing he had was words. And those failed him more than weapons ever did.

“Get off.” Din said.

“Not until you look at me.”

He didn’t want to. If he looked Luke in his face, he’d never be able to look away. He tried focusing on his eyes but he’d forgotten how beautiful Luke’s eyes were. All the hope and sadness in his soul seeped out of them.

“You’ve never hurt me.” Luke said. “You have nothing to do with these scars.”

Luke took Din’s hand again. And this time, Din didn’t pull away. Luke pressed his palm to his chest. At first contact, Luke flinched a bit but quickly relaxed into the weight of their entwined hands.

“They sting when someone touches them.” Luke admitted. “But only for a moment. It gets overpowered by the feel of your body against mine.”

Luke kissed the tips of Din’s fingers: the only part of Din he could reach without straining himself.

“The pain doesn’t come from your hands.” Luke said. “It comes from the hands that gave me these.”

Luke’s voice had been light and comforting until he mentioned the hands that gave him those scars. He didn’t have to read minds or feel auras to know that Luke was reliving that memory. And that he was terrified.

“Who did this to you.” Din said.

It took Luke a minute and several baffled blinks before he answered.

“He’s dead.” Luke said, “he’s dead.”

He couldn’t tell who Luke was talking to. It sounded like he was trying to assure himself more than Din. He almost wanted the perpetrator to be alive. It would give Din something to hunt. A head to bring back home and lay at Luke’s feet. Something to do beside watch the man he loved soul dim at the mere mention of him.

“It’s…” Luke said, his voice distant: probably the same place his mind was. “It’s a long, sick story.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Din said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No.” Luke said, “you deserve to know. I’ve been hiding this long enough. It’s just—“

Luke gripped Don’s hand tighter but it felt as if Luke had squeezed his heart.

“You’ll never look at me the same way again.”

Chapter Text

Din never got used to the feeling of Luke sharing his memories with him. They’d done it before. Only Luke had been there when Grogu said his first words so he showed Din the memory through the magic. Luke said it was like wearing someone else’s skin, but it felt like wearing someone else’s armor. That would be too perfect of a match. It was seeing through someone’s eyes but not knowing why they saw that way. With Luke, the world managed to look brighter and darker at the same time. Everything in extremes. Overwhelming.

He’d been so distracted by the feel of Luke’s memory it wasn’t until an overwhelming sense of dread took over that Din realized people had been talking.

He scrambled to pick up any words being shared. Luke was sharing his most painful memory with him: the least he could do was pay attention.

He was standing in front of a man dressed in black armor. He was massive, standing over a head taller than Luke. He was holding Luke’s lightsaber. His instincts were to look for a weapon, but in Luke’s memory, he couldn’t even blink his eyes. Even when he felt hands grab his shackles arms, Luke refused to look away from the man in black armor.

“Then my father is truly dead.”

The weight of betrayal and grief swallowed him.

The image switched. A tight elevator now. His hands were still bound. There was a steady hand on the small of his back that brought a strange comfort all while freezing him in fear. It was a strange feeling. Like his heart was comforted but his mind was screaming at it that he shouldn’t be. Luke’s eyes darted at the person who hand was on his back long enough for Din to recognize it was the man in the black armor from before.

Just like he did with Din now, he didn’t talk with the armored man even though there was so much to say.

He’d thought this man was the enemy. And he probably was. But there was something about his hand. And the complex feelings Luke had.

Luke loved this man.

But he knew this man was leading him to slaughter.

The elevator doors opened. The hand that had been perceived as comforting roughly pushed him forward. He didn’t stumble. Din didn’t know how he could considering how hard he was trembling. Well, trying not to tremble.

Din wished he could see how Luke looked in this moment. Head held high as he went to face…well who ever was in in throne by the window.

It looked like the throne Boba took from the Hutts.

Was this a crime lord?

The throne turned around and revealed the sitter to be…

A shriveled old man in a black hood.

Din reached for his blaster to only to remember that he couldn’t move his (well Luke’s) arms. And that Luke didn’t carry blasters.

The shriveled man made the foolish decision to instruct the guards to leave and unbind Luke’s hands. He expected Luke to attack. Or at least to reach for a weapon. But he didn’t.

And Din couldn’t figure out why. Every step the shriveled man took towards Luke resulted in Luke forcing himself not to flinch.

He tried to listened to what the shriveled man said, but he spoke so low that the mechanical breathing of the man in the black helmet drowned it out.

That was until the shriveled man gripped Luke’s chin and forced him to look up at his repulsive face.

“In time,” the shriveled man said, “you will call me master.”

The low growl was animalistic enough. But the spindly fingers and sharp finger nails made the cloaked man inhuman.

But the worst was how he touched Luke: those gnarled fingers light tilting his chin up.

Because it reminded Din of all the times he’d done that to Luke. During their private moments, Luke had this habit of blushing and looking down at his lap. With or without the blindfold. Then Din would caress his chin, tilt his head up and guide his lips back to his. It left Luke trembling.

To see—to feel someone touch Luke in this way… it made his skin crawl.

Din didn’t know who this shriveled man was, but he wanted him dead.

But more so, he wanted to hold Luke and let him tremble. He was straining to keep his composure while every part of his body screamed at him to run.

“You’re gravely mistaken.” Luke said, much steadier than Din would ever have been in his position.

This was where Luke attacked. It had to be. Din had seen Luke battle armies of different beings with the grace of a dancer. Luke could kill this man easily.

“No, my young Jedi, it is you who are mistaken. About a great many things.”

The shriveled man then mocked Luke’s dead father before the man in the black helmet handed over Luke’s weapon.

Now Din wanted both of them dead. He wasn’t sure which one he hated more: the shriveled man for treating Luke this way or the man in the helmet for allowing such a thing.

Luke loved the man in the helmet. It showed in how hard his heart broke when his weapon—his life—was handed off with no care.

How could someone have the love of Luke Skywalker and then throw it away.

They’d never talked about previous lovers before. One of the many things of the past they didn’t share. But Din had to assume, this man in the helmet was one. He could feel the love that Luke held for him. It was so similar to the love Luke had for Din. Only, with much more sorrow poisoning it.

He hated to admit it, but it was clear that Luke had a type.

Din had been so focused on wanting to kill the two other people in the room that he’d once again missed out on the conversation at hand.

The next thing he knew, he was forced to watch his friends die. And the overwhelming guilt that came with knowing it was his fault.

That his connection to the man in the helmet was the reason for all the death he witnessed as bits of obliterated X-wings scattered across the stars.

“You are now mine.”

The familiar sound of laser swords igniting jolted Din back from his thoughts of murder. Luke’s brilliant green clashed against crimson red.

But Luke wasn’t fighting the shriveled man.

He was fighting the man in the helmet.

He tried defensive first, which didn’t surprise Din but annoyed him anyways. He hid behind banisters, waiting for that terrifying machine of a man to jump out at him.

Then, it was rage that made Luke strike back.

Rage consumed any feeling of love that had been there. Rage. Rage that Din knew all too well but didn’t think Luke was capable of. Rage of being abandoned. Betrayed. Foolish. The guilt of wrong decisions. Of having hope that love would prevail.

Luke fought like an animal. No. Animals didn’t have this kind of rage. Animals rage for survival. Luke’s came from hate.

Luke chopped the hand off the man in the helmet.

Din wanted it as a trophy.

But he figured that Luke hadn’t been in the same mindset.

Actually, Luke was just staring at his hand in horror. Like he was shocked his hand was capable of such a thing.

He hoped that Luke couldn’t read his mind at the moment because for a moment shorter than a blink, Din was reminded of what else Luke’s hands were capable of.

Instead of aiming the green sword at the helmets neck like Din would have done, Luke tossed it away, turned towards the shriveled man and boldly declared.

“I’ll never turn to the dark side.”

Din had never been more in love and more frustrated in his entire life. He wanted to kiss every part of Luke at the same time he wanted to grab him back the collar and drag him out of here.

Luke never ran away from a fight. Din had thought it was because there was no fight Luke could loose. But he’d lost this one. But he was standing up and looking straight into the eyes of death with the bravery of a legend.

Luke knew he was going to die.

He was going to die standing between the shriveled man and the defeated man in the helmet.

He hated how Luke’s arms were held out ever so slightly. Almost as if Luke were protecting the one who had betrayed him.

“So be it, Jedi.”

His vision filled with a flash of purple before it instantly shifted.

He wasn’t inside Luke’s body any more. Instead, he was outside of it, standing next to the man in the helmet and the shriveled one.

He’d gotten used to feeling dazed (it happened a lot around Luke) but nothing pulled him faster back to reality than the shrieking.

Luke.

He didn’t know how or why, but he was writhing on the floor in agony.

Was that purple lightning coming from that shriveled man’s fingers?

He didn’t give it much of a thought as he leapt in between them. It was quicker than instinct.

But pain didn’t blast into Din’s chest. And the screams only got worse.

Of course. He couldn’t change the memories. He knew that.

All he could do was watch Luke as he screamed. Unable to touch him. Unable to pull him to his chest and shield him from it.

He hated watching and being unable to do anything.

He would have preferred staying in Luke’s eyes. Sure he’d feel everything Luke felt, but he’d take that over—

It clicked in his head. Less like a light and more like the safety coming off.

Luke didn’t want to share the pain of this memory.

A touching thought. For only a second.

How much pain was Luke in in this moment, trying to share his memories but take all the pain onto himself.

“Please! Help me!”

Luke reached out his hand and Din reached to take it only to realize, Luke wasn’t reaching for him.

Burns were already appearing on Luke’s neck. Lightning burns that Din knew would never heal.

He wanted out of this memory. He wanted Luke back in his arms. He wanted the shriveled man’s head on a pyke.

But more than anything, he wanted the man in the helmet, the man Luke loved , to do something other than watch Luke writhe.

“Coward!” Din shouted at the man in the helmet. “Save him!”

Then, as if the helmeted man actually heard him, he did.

He picked up the shriveled man and threw him off the banister. If Din’s mind was frantically trying to find a way to help Luke, he would have laughed.

The shriveled man was dead, or at least dead enough for the purple lightning to stop. But Luke still twitched, like the legs of a Naboo frog even after it’s head’s been chopped off.

Din reached for Luke’s hand. But he didn’t reach back.

Luke reached for the hand of the man in the helmet.

It was only a second. The sight of Luke, exhausted, slumped against the body of someone just as defeated. But the image burned into his head.

He’d been that body before. Long before he’d fallen for him. There was always a fight. For the dark saber. For the death of Luke by some imperial radical with no common sense. They always one. But those fights left them little more than corpses with barely beating hearts. They’d trudge toward the safest bit of shade, unsure of who was caring who, and collapse. No energy left to ask if they were too close. No energy to care. Two minutes before, they’d been fighting for their life but in those moments, they could barely find the strength to lift their heads.

It was one of their those moments Din first kissed Luke. Not a traditional kiss. Luke’s slumped head had found Din’s shoulder. And instead of pulling away, he leaned in, pressing his forehead to his. It was only for a second, before his senses came back and he pulled away. But then Luke took his hand. Din held it while he took the first watch, terrified what would happen if he kept holding it and even more terrified of if he let go. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought this was the moment the lines of their bodies blurred. As if they’d merged into one being.

Often, those moments felt more intimate than sex. Allowing to be exhausted and exposed to someone who was in the same situation. He cherished every memory he had of Luke in tight quarters, desperately making love. But he almost preferred the after. Because the after was never certain. So many times, Luke or Din had to leave. Star crossed lovers who kept crossing as they traveled along different paths, unsure if they would ever cross again.

But when Luke slumped against him, Din felt like it was more than their bodies where intwined.

Seeing Luke rested against another shoulder. His hand entwined with someone else’s.

It was the second hardest thing to view. The most painful had come right before. 

The image shifted. He was back in Luke’s body now, still lying close to the man in the black helmet in a way only survivors or lovers kept close. Only, the helmet was off now.

He might have been handsome in another life. In this one, he was scarred and misshaped. His eyes were pretty. A light blue nearly identical to Luke’s. Though, he much preferred Luke’s: larger and hope filled instead is sad and reminiscent. The type of eyes that would look at the mangled remains of a man made of more metal than flesh and see someone that he could love. Someone worthy of love.

He blue eyed man gave Luke a final smile. A final good bye.

The man died right in front of him. And Din wanted to look away. It felt…wrong. Too personal. He didn’t know this man, but was feeling Luke’s grief at loosing him.

Din still thought the man no longer in a helmet was a coward. He wouldn’t have let the shriveled man anywhere near Luke, let alone let him torture him even for a second.

But that was null and void when met with Luke’s grief.

He was someone Luke loved.

And he was dead.

And Din didn’t need Luke to share his feelings to understand how much it hurt.

The feeling of being so close to a new beginning only to realize it was the end. That the stars were never going to cross again.

Chapter Text

With the memory shared, the two flopped back onto the bed, both drenched in sweat and in tears.

Every question Din about what he just saw were stifled by the sound of Luke’s cries

Luke was in hysterics.

Luke sobbed into Din’s chest, his nails digging into his back. The few words Din caught were “betrayed” and “scared”.

He wanted to hug him. Rub his back. Grip him tight and never let go. Anything to comfort him and assure that he was safe. But he didn’t want to touch any of Luke’s scars. 

So he took Luke’s hand and rubbed his thumb on the back of it. There weren’t any lightning scars on that hand.

Luke’s cries slowed and quieted with every brush of Din’s thumb until it was no more than the occasional sniffle.

“It’s wrong to miss him.” Luke said. “I know it is. I know what he’s done. But…I wish he had lived.”

It hurt. To know that there was another that Luke would pick instantly in another lifetime.  

But Din was what Luke had now. It felt wrong, but he was almost grateful the other was dead. Even if he could never completely hold his entire heart. The shattered remains were more than enough.

It made him sick to know that he was that selfish. He should be wanting to bring back the other man in the helmet to make Luke happy. Instead, he was grateful he was dead. Which meant he was grateful for Luke’s tears wetting his chest.

He didn’t need to tell Luke his love was misplaced. It wasn’t his place to say. Luke loved him despite all his flaws. It would be hypocritical.

“You loved him.” Din said. “It— it gets messy.”

It didn’t make it alright. And he’d always been mad at the man in the helmet for not being better for Luke. He’d always be mad at himself for not being better for Luke.

Luke’s love was wasted on both of them.

“Who was he?”

Luke froze.

Then he laughed.

So hard and hysterical Din flinched.

“You don’t recognize Darth Vader?”

He’d heard the name before. Some imperial lap dog that killed a lot of people. But he didn’t know he looked like that.

“I’ve heard the name before.” Din said, sheepishly.

Kriff, he wanted his helmet.

Luke said things that Din didn’t understand a lot. Usually, when faced with this, he would just nod his head because asking for an explanation usually just confused him more. He didn’t need to understand exactly what a holocron was to understand it was important to the Jedi creed and to protect it with his life. He didn’t need to ask questions usually.

This was not one of those times.

He expected Luke to laugh again, but instead he gave a soft smile.

“What do you know about Darth Vader?” He asked.

“That he was with the empire.” Din said. “That he’s a Jedi. That his sword is red.  That bounty hunters didn’t take his bounties no matter how high it was.”

‘ That you loved him.’ He didn’t say. ‘ That he betrayed you’

“Fett called him the Empire’s lap dog.” Din added, which probably didn’t make it better.

Luke gave a light laugh. The type of laugh that should have made Din self conscious but didn’t.

“That’s not entirely wrong.” Luke said. “There’s a bit more to it.”

He gave a long explanation how Vader was once not a robot named Anakin who left one cult to join another more evil cult. How he was one of the names that everyone feared for good reason.

“I wanted to save him.” Luke said. “Bring him back to the light. And I did. He came back when he saved me. And—and then he died.”

Luke wrung his hands, stroking the one without scars just like Din did.

“He’d spent years chasing me.” Luke said. “Some days, I wake up terrified thinking he’s still coming after me. Then I’m disappointed that he’s not. Then guilty over wanting him back after everything he’s done.”

Then, Luke leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. Din figured he was imaging the stars above.

“He was trying to protect me, in his own messed up way. Still does.”

Din wanted to argue that, but then Luke dropped another bombshell.

“He visits me sometimes.”

Many planets have cultures where they swear they can feel impressions of the dead, so that wasn’t too odd. But then Luke kept talking.

“He likes you a lot.”

Din almost choked on his tongue.

“What?” Din asked.

“We talk sometimes.” Luke said. “I can connect with his ghost when I need advice.”

“Is—is that a normal force thing?” Din asked.

“I think so?”

Very assuring.

“He likes you.” Luke said. “He likes how you treat me. And how great of a father you are. He wanted you to know that but I haven’t gotten the chance to tell you.”

Luke talks to the ghost of his ex-lover. Who told Luke to tell him that he supports their relationship.

What the Kriff.

“Thanks.” Din said, not sure what else to say.

Then a horrific thought came to him.

“Can he see us?” Din asked. “Any time?”

“I guess.”

Where’s his kriffin’ helmet. Hells, where is his kriffin’ shirt?

“Don’t worry,” Luke said, clearly reading his mind or face. “He’s not here. He usually isn’t.”

“Usually?”

Luke smiled and gave him a quick kiss. It calmed him down instantly, his lips leaving a much more pleasant tingle than the lightning.

“Don’t worry.” Luke said. “He only comes when I need him.”

He smiled so bright at that. But it faded. It was like the stars in Luke’s eyes died. The light still lingered, but it was merely because it was so distant the darkness hadn’t completely swallowed it yet. The light merely an etching of a memory no less dead and soon to be forgotten.

He’d never seen Luke’s eyes go dark like that.

He couldn’t help but think he’d caused it.

But then Luke asked.

“What do you know about the Emperor?”

Din could piece that one together.

“He’s the one who gave you those scars.” Din said.

He’d heard more horrific stories of the Emperor. But that one was the only one that mattered.

Luke nodded and gripped Din’s hand tight.

“He’s a monster.”

It wasn’t Din who said that.

The words sounded so wrong in Luke’s voice. Luke was the most forgiving man in the galaxy. One who gave people second chances when Din wouldn’t even give them a first.

If Luke said that man was a monster, he was worse than a monster.

“He did so many horrible things.” Luke said. “I know Anakin is largely to blame for his actions, but the things the Emperor did to him—the things he forced him to do—“

Luke shuddered and Din instantly wrapped the covers (Din’s cloak) around his shoulders. That’s all the touching he intended, but Luke pressed his forehead against his chest.

“The Emperor knew I was his weakness.” Luke said. “And was punishing him. He was going to torture me to death. Slowly. And make him watch. Then have him toss my body into the reactor shaft.”

Din knew what happened after that. He’d seen it.

But I’m his mind, image of a lifeless Luke replaced the one of the Emperor being discarded by Vader. An image that would never leave him.

“I hear his laugh sometimes.” Luke whispered. “Like I’ll look behind me, and he’ll be there. But now, no one’s around to save me.”

“I’d save you.”

Luke gave a weak laugh. Din didn’t even think to be insulted: he was too focused on how much Luke was still shaking.

“If the Emperor came back to like to kill me,” Luke said, “there wouldn’t be much you could do.”

“I’d die with you.” Din said, the most coherent thing he’d said all morning, “I wouldn’t just stand there and watch.”

He expected Luke to laugh again. He would have preferred it to the sorrow filled look he was wearing.

“No you wouldn’t.” Luke said.

That got his fists to clench. The accusation that he was no better than Vader. That he would just stand there and do nothing until the last second.

“I would.” Din said. “I would never make you go through that alone.”

“You wouldn’t because I wouldn’t want you too.”

Luke pulled away, finally getting the message that Din wasn’t going to touch him. No matter how much Din wanted to wrap him in his arms and never let go, he couldn’t do it.

“I’d want you to live.” Luke said. “I don’t want you to die for me. Or with me. Or at all. Especially not to…I can’t lose anyone else to him .”

Luke shook his head, like he was trying to shake the voices out of it.

Din didn’t know how to fix this. Or even how to improve it. Touches would hurt. Words would fail. It was helpless.

“It’s gotta be hard talking about it.” Din said.

Apparently, that was at least a bit amusing because Luke gave another quiet laugh.

“Impossible.” Luke said, “especially considering they’d kill me if they ever found out.”

That was a loaded statement. Why would being tortured be a death sentence?

“Who’s ‘they’?” Din asked, prepared to start another hunt.

“Anyone.” Luke said, “Vader…well, I know you don’t know much about him, but if people ever found out he was my father…”

Father.

Not an ex-lover.

Father.

“Father?” Din said.

Luke looked just as confused as Din felt.

“Yes,” Luke said, slowly, “Vader’s true name is Anakin Skywalker—my father.”

Did that make it better or worse?

“I-I called him father several times in the memory.” Luke said. “Who-who did you think he was?”

Din didn’t say anything, but his ears must have flushed red because Luke kissed one of the tips. Definitely not making the color go away.

“I still don’t have understand why anyone would kill you over that.” Din said.

Apparently, he wasn’t as bad at words as he thought. Everything he said kept making Luke laugh which was the sweetest sound in the galaxy.

“I guess you’re right.” Luke said, teasing, “I should shout ‘Darth Vader is my father’ whenever I enter a room. See how many shots get fired.”

“Probably not any less than usual.”

Another laugh, accompanied by a kiss. Both so tender it felt like feathers tickling him.

Luke took Din’s hand again and pressed it to his chest. Right on top of the center of the scars.

Hoping he could even compare to the feather lightness of Luke’s touch, Din traced one of the lines.

“You sure it doesn’t hurt?” Din asked.

“I’m sure.” Luke said. “You’ve never hurt me. And I don’t think you ever will.”

This time, Din didn’t stifle his words.

“Why? How can you trust me? I didn’t even trust you with my face until we were married. How do you know I won’t hurt you?”

Luke kissed his palm. Kriff, he loved it when Luke did that. Almost as much as he loved doing that to Luke.

“Because I told you I was the son of the most monstrous man in the galaxy,” Luke said, “and you were relieved that he was my father and not my ex-lover. If that doesn’t make you want to kill me, I’m not sure there’s anything that would.”

Din still wasn’t too sure about how monstrous Vader was. But in the end, he died saving Luke. He couldn’t have been all that bad. And even if he was, he was the reason Luke was still alive with his head against his chest. He had to be at least a bit grateful to the man.

Before Din could string together the words ‘I’’love’ and ‘you’, Luke swung a leg over Din’s hip. Not expecting it, Din fell back against the bed. But instead of a heavy blow into the mound of blankets, he fell softly: as if in slow motion. It took him a second to realize it wasn’t his mind being slow but that Luke was using his magic to make him fall slower. As if the pillows might have been too hard for Din’s back.

“Sorry,” Luke said, brushing a hair from Din face, “didn’t mean to catch you off guard.”

Above him, with the amber morning light catching onto his blond hair, Luke looked like a celestial being.

“Are you an angel?” Din asked.

Luke laughed but Din wasn’t joking. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought that Luke might have come from Leggo somewhere down the line. Just the first time he’d said it out loud. He blamed the early morning light.

“Not an Angel.” Luke said, “just someone who loves you.”

Luke bent down and kissed Din’s forehead. Then his eye lids. His nose. His cheeks. By the time Luke reached his lips, Din thought he might have been dreaming.

The kisses were soft at first. A few pecks before becoming longer and longer. Each press becoming deeper. The pressure spreading from just their lips to their bodies pressing and retracting against one another.

Luke laced his finger’s into Din’s hair. An unspoken question Din answered by burying his head in the crook of Luke’s neck.

He took Luke by the waist, ready to pressed his hips against him, but a thought made him hesitate.

“You’re sure your father isn’t watching us, right?” Din asked and immediately regretted it.

If there was one way to kill the mood, that was it.

But Luke’s bell like laugh only made him want to get rid of the empty space faster.

“I’m sure.” Luke said. “It’s just us.”

Us. The two of them. In a bed they shared. Not cramped in tight corners of ships or on creaky inn cots or against walls of darken alleys. Safe and warm in a room and bed they could call their own.

He hadn’t even known he’d wanted that until he had it. Now he couldn’t imagine living without it.

A gentle roll of his hips was enough for Din to shudder and surrender.

He wasn’t sure what was in store for them, but he knew that over the next hour he was going to kiss every inch of Luke’s scars.