Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it: Din Djarin x OC

Chapter 8

A/N: this chapter is dedicated to sadstrarwarsfan14 , who keeps me going with a steady income of requests which i glady accept (heyy ily, hope you're doing okay) and above is ANOTHER amazing fanart of neth, made by MakenaPotter who is AMAZING!

Warnings: swearing, one big fat Mando boner (uh what),

Word count: 1206

When we get back to the hangar, Speela is waiting.

'Hey, Neth!' She calls as we enter. She's done an amazing job on the Wyvern, cleaned her up and left her shining golden in the Jakku sun.

'Wow,' I sigh. 'Thanks, Speela.'

'You're welcome. Just saying, but the cooler looks a little ragged. I was going to fix it up for you, but a new ship just landed with some bitchy ass guy who wants to leave by the afternoon. Don't worry, though, I'm pretty sure you can deal with it yourself.' She claps her hands together, smiling brightly. 'I believe in you and your horrible mechanic skills! Anyways, I got rid of all that ugly carbon scoring. Didn't know you got into so many shoot outs!'

I grin. 'Can't really help it, Speela, and you know that.'

She grumbles. 'Well, next time you come back, bringing your carbon scoring with you, maybe I won't be so lenient.'

'Oh, you would never.'

~

We're on the way to Nevarro when, as Speela predicted, the cooler breaks. What she didn't predict, however, is that unfortunately I'm not good enough at mechanics to fix it. And neither is Mando. Plus, if either of us was competent, I don't think I even own the right tools. So, the ship is sweltering, and I'm boiling up. Fanning myself, I slip off my sweat soaked shirt and replace my canvas pants with a pair of shorts.

'I'm going to count the supplies!' I yell from the corner, where I lean against the cool (ish) metal walls, hoping that wherever Mando is on the ship, he'll hear. 'We're going to stop off on Nevarro so we can get the stupid ass cooler fixed and get more food!'

'Sure!' He shouts back.

'You need anything? Mando?'

I hear his footsteps as he hops down the ladder, and then he sits down on one of the crates. 'Get some more rags to clean the blasters, and that should be all, I think.'

'Got it,' I reply, scribbling rags down on the pad and walking over to the food crate to count rations.

I know immediately that something's off by his silence. It's not the comfortable quiet we normally fall into, it's unsettled and shocked, signalled by the sharp exhale of air before everything in the hull becomes so still it's like we've all been frozen in carbonite. Quickly, I glance up and see his gaze fixed on me, in my shorts and bra, his fists clenched by his sides, breathing laboured, and think, what the fuck is that in his pants, there's nothing in his pants but his -

Oh. Oh, right. There's nothing in his pants but his dick. Maker help me.

I decide to be merciful and not tease him, because he's noticed that I've realised and he's looking away, ashamed, even as the tent in his pants only gets bigger.

'I - I'm sorry,' he chokes, horrified. 'I - I c - can't help it - '

'Stars, Mando,' I mutter under my breath, trying to hide a smile. 'Okay,' I say, louder. 'Go take a shower. A cold one.'

'B - but I'll use up a - all the cold water left and y - you - '

'Never mind, just go,' I say, grabbing his arm and hauling him onto his feet, herding him toward the refresher, careful to not look anywhere below his chest.

As soon as I hear the door close and the shower switch on, I slump down to the floor of the hull and bite back my guilt. Reluctantly, I grab a blouse and pull it on, buttoning it up, leaning my head against the wall. Squirming into a comfortable position, I try to think of anything but the very visible lump that was in his pants, but my mind ends up recalling the feeling of his bare chest pressed against my back when we were in the Jakku covert. Maker, his face pressed against the nape of my neck. His face. He trusted me enough to take his helmet off. Groaning, I bury my face in my hands and sit there for a bit, trying to absorb some of the coolness of the metal, closing my eyes and occasionally wiping beads of sweat from my brow, when the door opens. I hadn't even noticed that the shower switched off.

'I - I'm sorry,' he gulps from where he stands in the doorway, and from the way he's fidgeting, you'd have thought Mando Junior was still saluting.

'Maker, it's fine,' I tell him, exasperated by his sheepish guilt, but he doesn't look too convinced, so I stand up and look him in the visor. 'I mean it, Mando. I don't fucking care what happened down there,' I grin, vaguely gesturing down to his canvas pants. 'Other men have done a hell of a lot worse, having seen a lot less.'

He fidgets. 'I - Y - You're just s - so beautiful a - and - I - '

He chokes as he realises what he said out loud, and he backs away, already hurriedly stuttering and stammering his apology. I stride up to him and look at him, really look.

'Yeah, well, tin can, it's just that you're so handsome,' I tease, then go serious. 'And it doesn't matter what I don't see, Watchman, what is or isn't under that helmet of yours. You've got a good heart under all that armour. I mean it. I swear. Haat, ijaa, haa'it.'

My heart pounds in my ears as I await his response, and my stomach twists as I hear him inhale under that helmet, trying to find his words. Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I steadily gaze at him, chewing on my lip, half expecting him to bolt any moment. Have I overstepped? Have I scared him away?

'Really?' He asks meekly.

'Yeah,' I grin at him. Suddenly, he's grabbed me around the waist, whirling me into his arms and pressing the cool forehead of his helmet against mine in a glorious kov'nyn. And this time, I don't have a fever. This time, it's real. And stars, I love it.

~

I cover my mouth as I yawn, then glance over at Mando.

'So, Watchman, Nevarro next?'

'Yeah.'

Kicking my feet up on the dash, I turn to face him. 'You think Greef's going to kick me off the planet if I show my face?' I snort. 'The old man better not.'

Even so, there's a slight tinge of worry in my voice which Mando must sense, because his tone is reassuring when he replies, standing up to lean against my chair and brush a gentle hand over my shoulder.

'I won't let him, cyar'ika.' I smile at the term of endearment, looking up at him. 'If you're with me, he'll do nothing worse than make a few comments at your expense.' Mando chuckles. 'If he does decide to try to kick you off, he won't enjoy having two angry Mandalorians on his hands.'

I laugh and switch on autopilot, standing up and curling my arms around my tin can's neck and gently pressing my forehead to his. 'Thanks, Mando.'

'You're welcome, cyar'ika.'

LMFAO SORRY ABOUT THE ENDING IM JUST TRYNA SHOW THEIR RELATIONSHIP GROWING AND I THINK IM FAILING