𝐜𝐲𝐚𝐫𝐞'𝐬𝐞 - 𝘥𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘫𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯

Behave*

behave • fem!reader
After a grueling hunt, you and Din celebrate your success at a local cantina, both ending up with a little too much that leads you to do things that are a little too risky.

—§—

"Wait, has there always been a straw in there?"

Din chuckles as you ask the question, seemingly amused as he guzzles down the rest of his third drink within the hour. "Yes," he answers, rather amazed that this isn't something you've known even after years of traveling with him and a month of marriage to him. "I just rarely ever use it because it's hard to clean."

You raise an eyebrow as you snicker, bringing your third cup to your lips as you take a thoughtful sip. "You'll have fun cleaning that out tomorrow. It's gonna be so gross from this."

Din shakes his helmet, sliding the cup away and leaning his forearm against the bar of the cantina as he watches you finish up. You're surprised that neither one of you feel as exhausted as you should. The hunt you've finally finished with was so long and grueling that you knew you were going to have to leave the child with someone else beforehand. It makes it relieving now, knowing that you and Din have at least a night to yourselves before you have to fly back to Sorgan to get your little green son from Omera, though you do miss him dearly—especially after something as dangerous as what you and Din just had to do.

Maybe that's how you've both ended up drinking yourselves to a state you know you shouldn't be in.

You're not drunk, no, but you're not sober—and you're feeling somehow even more energized than you were before entering this cantina. You're sure that's the power of all three drinks working in your system at once, clouding your mind and convincing you that you're less tired than you really are. All you'd both wanted to do was celebrate a little, take a break before hiking back to the Crest and getting some sleep. The quarry's already been taken care of on this planet, and so the both of you had been intent upon getting some rest in the ship until the morning.

But now, rest is the last thing you want.

You finish off your drink and let it hit the surface of the bar dramatically, giggling a little bit when Din reaches a gloved hand over to cover yours. "Easy, cyar'ika," he chides gently, chuckling through his modulator. His touch lingers, and that electric feeling that's crackling through your veins only intensifies at the sensation.

You swallow hard and raise an eyebrow, noticing how Din's visor is still looking straight at you. "Din," you start to say, watching as your fingers start to take a grip around his, "I'm not tired anymore."

"Neither am I." Din pauses, his gloved hand lifting from the bar and taking yours with it. He settles both on top of your thigh, and instantly a jolt of the slightest pleasure appears as he grips it rather firmly. "I fear... we both may have had too much to drink."

You shrug, your gaze drifting to watch as Din's touch moves just an inch higher than where it'd been just moments ago. "Is it all that bad?" you question, voice soft and almost teasing as you look back up at him. His helmet's tilted at you, as if to show you that you're the only one in this rambunctious room who has his attention. "I'm sure that we can rest, we just have to..." you trail off for a moment, one of your hands covering his on your thigh as you encourage it to move even higher, "... blow off some steam."

"Cyar'ika," Din drags in a warning tone, somehow moving even closer to you on his stool beside yours.

There's a boldness the drinks have given you, now. Your hand moves up to his wrist, where you find a sliver of his exposed skin and start to run circles with your thumb on top of it. You shrug nonchalantly at Din, never looking away from the severity and intensity of his empty visor staring back at you. "It's just an idea." Your voice is hushed now, meant to be kept in the space between you, and you can feel Din's grip on your thigh tighten. "Though I must confess it's one I've thought about a lot this evening."