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It’s not that Din has never had a heat before. On the contrary he is incredibly regular. It’s just that he’s never shared his heats with anyone before. Primarily because he’s never taken his helmet off. But now the helmet is off for good and right on schedule comes his heat. Din can feel the boil of his blood mere hours before the actual heat has started. The tell-tale cramping begins when he’s already halfway to Yavin IV to visit Grogu.
He sends a message ahead to Luke that he will be a few days early seeing the Child and curls up in the back of his new ship. It is not filled with the comforting scent of home yet like the Razor Crest had been. It is too new. The scent of new space goes from pleasant to overwhelmingly wretched. Horrible. Unsatisfying. Disgusting.
The Mandalorian attempts to build a pathetic attempt at a nest. The blankets may smell like him but it’s not enough. There simply are not enough smells to keep him grounded. Perhaps he should have stayed with a friend for it. Silently Din rubs the scent blocker on his neck and wrists. The helmet and Beskar may keep your scent null and distant to the outsider, it does not change the fact that it’s basically a pheromone roasting pan for Din. Still he’s not going to miss this chance to see his son.
He rests in the blanket cocoon, scents effectively blocked for an entire hour before the ship beeps that he’s close enough to Yavin IV, to drop out of lightspeed. As he pulls up to the temple Din notices two figures at the temple gates. Two very familiar figures.
Grogu has grown a little bit. Still in many ways a toddler, but older somehow much older than that. Maybe he simply carries himself differently as he stands next to the other. His new physicality might be blamed upon his new posture. The strict serious stance you have seen in the only two jedi you have met. Ahsoka Tano and of course, Luke. But despite the straight proud back, he cooing at you. A smile on his small green face.
Next to Grogu is of course, his master. Luke Skywalker. Since the child had joined the jedi, he has done his research on him. A powerful person. Someone who destroyed a galactic super weapon twice. A man who had fought Darth Vader in single combat and won. Truly there were no better hands for his son to be in.
“He’s happy to see you.” Luke speaks first, a small albeit serious smile upon his lips. The Child coos more as he plods over to his father. Din scoops Grogu up in his arms, and the child instinctively scents his father. It cools Din inner temperature immediately, the body recognizing the bond between father and son without question. The Mandalorian presses his forehead to Grogu’s small one. And this system seems a little bit brighter than before.
Grogu and Luke take him on a tour of the temple. First is the obstacle course, a large outdoor space not too far from the landing pad that has been converted to what Din can only assume is the size for average humanoid, not his small son. The Child immediately starts showing off new force powers every so often. Lifting medium sized objects. Wielding the ancient weapon of the jedi, a light saber with the ease of natural talent and the watchful eyes of Luke critiquing and explaining each stance. Then he’s pulling himself up and jumping with intense speed and precision that one still so small should not be capable of. Still Din needs to remind himself that Grogu is much older than he appears, already fifty. It is hard to think that his child is somewhat older than him.
Next place that the Mandalorian finds himself in is a large library. Covered wall to wall in holofiles and books that look like they would fall apart if you looked at them wrong. The Child reaches out a hand and one of the tomes rush to his hand like it’s nothing. Din leans down to take a look at the stories within, it’s old but it’s not a lost language. An old precursor to Galactic Basic you realize. Flipping through the pages, a simple book of jedi stories. “Pretty impressive, kid.”
“That one is his favorite. It has some stories from the time of the Mandalorian wars. He thinks of you when we study it.” Luke leans closer to both Din and Grogu. His neck may be covered but that does not stop Din from getting a good whiff of his scent.
Like sandalwood and the undertones of some kind of warm spice, perhaps cloves? And Din has to close his eyes for a moment. Luke smells good. Like home, strength, and something deep and romantic that pulls him in like a planet orbiting a star. Din’s hindbrain takes a moment to conjure up words that he can use to articulate how much he want to mate Luke.
What’s to stop your hindbrain really? He’s already demonstrated himself with The Mando’s son. He’s strong. He’s good with children. He’s incredibly respectful of boundaries, made sure that the kid stayed in contact with Din. And he is devastatingly handsome. And that traitorous brain of Din’s cannot help but imagine what pretty and what powerful pups the pair two could produce.
And then it’s over. The trance is over and Din can feel the warmth of his cheeks under the helmet. Stuck with the traitorous thoughts. And the knowledge that Luke is also blushing.
Din returns to his ship before dinner. Despite both Grogu and Luke’s request to stay for the meal. In truth he would have loved to have stayed, but the idea of having to take his helmet off even part of the way, this close to his heat? Absolutely not.
He would keep the helmet until he could no longer breathe in it as the heat overtook him. From a cycle as regular as his, he wagered he had another three hours or so before he was out of his mind. The Mandalorian takes a moment to rest himself in his cocoon of blankets again. It was a messy terrible little thing but it was his nest for the next few days.
The familiar ping of his comlink startles him just a little. The message is expectedly from Luke. The message is unexpectedly I have brought you food and am outside. Din closes his eyes again, then opens the door to his ship.
Luke is not wearing the restrictive neckline like he had been earlier. And that scent permeates around them both. Pure alpha, pure unfiltered alpha wafts into your nose. Genuinely you feel a wave of relief that this is happening now before the heat takes over and just a whiff of that might all it takes for him to dripping in his pants.
“I hope you don’t think this is too forward.” Luke starts, a serious expression on his face, undercut by the intensity of his pheromones. He is so handsome, golden hair and bright blue eyes. The scent of rut tinging the edges of his mouth watering scent and maybe Din pulls himself a little closer. And so the night begins.