Chapter Text
It becomes apparent to Luke that Din barely understands the concept of Jedi. He seems to have been told little more than the fact Grogu belongs with them. As a result, he's terribly biased. What he knows of the Force doesn't go beyond his sweet little youngling or Ashoka with her unbreakable moral compass. He's vaguely aware the Jedi were enemies of Mandalorians long ago, but he does not know why.
All in all, Din is one of the most simple and politically ignorant people Luke has ever met.
In some ways, that’s interesting in itself. Luke was similarly sheltered once, but Din is much older. Would he be half as formidable - as honorable - as the Mandalorian without the gift of knowledge? Without the Force?
What truly intrigued Luke, however, was Din’s strong-willed capacity for selfless, nurturing love. He gave everything up for that youngling yet was resigned to staying away if it meant a better life for Grogu. Wasn’t that the type of selflessness the Jedi were meant to endeavor? Didn’t that make Din worth studying?
He'd be furious to know how many times Luke had left Grogu under the supervision of fairly rudimentary droids to come find him.
The first time he found Din, he was asleep in Boba Fett's castle. The memory is crisp as ever, and he relives it often.
The security and locks to his private room are near impossible for an average person to stealth their way into. It isn’t for him, of course. The room is impossibly dark, so he risks leaving the window open a crack. Starlight pours in.
Din is mostly naked, and sleeping deeply. His helmet is loosely clutched at his side as though he had removed it just before sleep, his face buried in the pillows.
Luke spots a glimmer of wetness between his thighs.
Looking up slowly, Luke observes red cheeks, skin still calming from vaguely hand-shaped imprints.
So, he did fuck.
Some of the texts on manipulation and the force Luke has been reading suggest that sleep is the best time to integrate more elaborate scenarios into the mind.
He will wake up. It wouldn’t be very interesting otherwise.
However, if done properly, the individual will envision a completely different reality while not having any of their core personality altered. Upon the influence of the force leaving them, they may be confused about their sense of reality - unsure if it was a dream or not.
Did Din have a lover, or was he just sluttier than Luke had assumed? This was an opportunity to explore more of the heart of this man that intrigued him while practicing mind manipulation on someone strong-willed.
Luke’s hand hovers over Din’s head, almost caressing. He whispers, "Your helmet is safely secured. I'm the one that just left you, come back for more."
The fact the words do not wake him signifies it's working. In fact, he seems even more relaxed, deeper in sleep. Perhaps the dose of mind-trickery was too strong - it might be difficult to wake him.
Luke spreads his ass gently. The motion forces a trail of cum out of a puffy, wrecked and messy hole - whoever had their way with Din wasn't gentle.
He's wet enough, though. Luke is more than hard enough by now. He swiftly disrobes enough to slide his cock into the mouth-watering mess of the Mandalorian's ass.
That certainly does the trick; Din wakes up with a gasp, "Wha..? Boba?!"
Boba Fett? The bounty hunter turned newfound dictator of this place? Luke suppresses a scoff.
He tries to angle his head back at Luke. As much as Luke wants to see that face, he worries actually seeing him might weaken the illusion. Seeing just this much is a treat.
So, he uses a hand to force Din's face back into the pillow; thrusts violently the rest of the way in, earning an endearingly muffled scream.
Din isn’t fighting it. It can only mean the infamously brutal Boba Fett had him willingly. Something about that ignites an unexpected rage in Luke.
He won’t be going easy on Din.
Din makes a muffled sound like he might be trying to talk. Luke is still pushing his head down. He considers pulling him up by the hair to allow him to talk while maintaining control, but that could hurt the still-helmeted suggestion.
Instead, he takes Din's throat in hand, slides upward, and angles him up by his jaw.
Din gulps in the air he was denied before quickly attempting to steady his breathing. Luke's erratic thrusting makes it impossible.
"Thought you had to -ah! - leave…" It’s difficult to tell if his voice sounds raw with sleep or from something else entirely. Surely the Mandalorian hadn’t removed his helmet to suck cock?
If Din hears Boba Fett's voice instead of his own, the manipulation will be truly locked in place. Saying something convincing, something Din wants, will be the tricky part.
"I changed my mind. You’re more important to me."
Luke immediately regrets it. There's no way Boba Fett would say something even remotely sappy like that.
He senses Din's heartbeat speed up at the words. It must be panic - the illusion must be breaking - Luke prepares to fight until Din is hurt enough to succumb to a memory wipe.
But he doesn't try to throw Luke off.
Instead, he lets out a soft "Oh" and reaches for the hand on his throat, encasing it, holding it gently and caressing his thumb back and forth against the gloved knuckles.
He feels it vividly, as though it were his original flesh and spirit whole again.
The motion makes him feel safe, yet small. How could a man make him feel like that all while he fucks him in the ass and grips his throat? He's blinking back tears, and all at once furiously enamored. He considers tightening his grip to choke.
He could make Din hate Fett if this experiment weren’t so volatile.
He resists the urge by grabbing at Din’s cock. It’s just a little erect at best, although drooling eagerly.
Din’s groan sounds more tired than pleasured, “Told you, can’t come anymore.”
Still, he seems to be moving his hips into Luke's, Fett’s, and encouragingly reaching out to grasp and stroke what he could of his lover’s arms and hands.
“But you’d let me fuck you anyway?”
“Mmhm,” Din sighs, content.
There's a sudden crash - their movements had finally sent Din's helmet crashing off the bed and to the ground.
Luke curses under his breath. Every ounce of his awareness was focused on Din, body and mind. Still, he should have enough wherewithal to sense things around him. Din was truly testing him.
At the noise, Din immediately tenses up. He blinks slowly before tentatively raising a hand to his face. “But the light-”
Luke catches his wrists, pinning them behind the small of his back, whispers a soothing contradiction in Din’s ear, “The lights are off, the windows sealed. We’re in pitch black.”
Din is tense enough that it’s a little difficult to keep sliding his cock in and out, which Luke has been able to slow down but not entirely stop despite the predicament. Fortunately, once the force-suggestion seems to re-settle in him, most of the tension leaves his body.
However, he does begin to struggle out of the hold on his wrists. He figured Boba Fett was typically as controlling and violent, but it seems that may have been a bad move.
Din sounds agitated, a gut-wrenching difference from the soft acceptance of before, “Why are you-”
He releases Din’s wrists, tries to play it off like he was aiming to hold his hand, “Shh, it’s okay.”
His renewed thrusting distracts any lingering reluctances Din might have had.
He wants to do more. Kiss and bite. But even these things now pose a threat to the illusion.
Luke will have to take things to the next level if he wants any certainty moving forward. With Force behind his strength, he flips Din’s larger body with no effort at all. Boba Fett was likely strong enough to do so on his own.
The suggestion holds strong.
Din doesn’t find the flip jarring - he looks a bit relieved. He has a sleepy, exasperated smile. Without hesitation, as though they’ve done it plenty of times, Din reaches out and holds him close as Luke comes to a finishing point.
The aggressiveness of it begins to make Din wince, though his dick twitches eagerly.
As he gets close to coming, high on the embrace, Luke can’t help himself from asking, “Do you love me?”
Din looks shocked.
For a moment, Luke thinks he’s too stunned to talk, but he does get an answer in the form of a painfully tightened embrace and a nod into his neck.
When Luke comes, he catches a near imperceptible, “Yes.”
Collapsing on Din, he allows a few moments of delusional bliss. He slips out, Din hissing lightly at the sensation. There's a lot of cum. Far more than what one man could provide. It trails down a faint bit mark on Din's inner thigh he couldn't see from the previous angle, wishes desperately he'd done the same.
Then he remembers.
"Look at me. What do you see?"
Din looks confused, then cracks a small smile like he's figured something out ".... I don't have any talent for poetry, like you and your flowers flourishing in the sands."
Boba Fett and poetry? Flowers? Luke is certain he could sweet talk better when he gets the chance.
"Tell me anyway”
“I see…honor and…kindness.” Din’s face seems to be flushing deeper, and he’s struggling to not look away, “and, maybe, the start of something I never thought I’d have.”
Luke feels sick. His stomach is tied in knots.
“I’ll make sure you have exactly what you need.”