Din had helmet hair. He knew this since he had first worn a helmet as a child. Even without ready access to a mirror or a flat, reflective surface, he could feel how sweat would force the strands of dark brown down.
Younger, he would take the time to cut his hair, almost shaving it as close to his scalp as he could before he trained. Made it easier to bathe if he didn’t have to focus on his hair.
As he got older, and took on bounties on his own, he grew more lax when it came to his hair. Being busy and having access to a private sonic meant it was easier to be clean and no wasted water. Being alone on the Razor Crest meant he could remove his helmet and do as he wished at times.
His main focus was for his hair not to get into his eyes and kept under his helmet. He shaved, but didn’t care if there was a few days of stubble before he shaved again. His hair looked okay after a sonic, but he didn’t bother to style it, because the helmet would be worn shortly.
Each time they were together, Luke would reach up and run his fingers through Din’s hair, gently untangling the knots, brushing it away from Din’s eyes and tucking it behind his ears.
Din treasured each touch, enjoying the bloom of warmth with every skin contact. Trusting Luke to hold him gently when he had spent so long wearing armor against the universe.
But it hadn’t always been that way.
The first time he took off his helmet specifically for Luke, the younger man watched him with wide eyed stoicism. Blue eyes struggle to meet brown for a few minutes before Luke eventually relaxed, a smile coming back to his lips, and the day continued on like normal. It took a few more times of it happening before Luke confessed that he was trying not to be distracted by Din’s hair.
Din used to run his hand through his hair when he removed his helmet, but quickly learned that if he was turned just right, he would catch Luke’s expression of surprised amusement for a moment before it smoothed out to a polite smile. And if he did nothing, Luke would step up and brush Din’s hair away from his face with a soft chuckle.
Luke, Din eventually learned, had cloak hair.
It wasn’t nearly as dramatic as helmet hair, and much more rare.
The first time Din saw Luke on the Imperial ship, the younger man looked like a perfectly serene Jedi, all knowing and calm after a rather dramatic fight. After that, Din had seen Luke in a variety of other situations. Wet from Grogu pushing him into a lake, sweaty from a day of exercise, dirty from his time in the garden. But at the end of the day, Luke didn’t have to deal with helmet hair like Din.
Whenever Luke went out into crowds, he wore his cloak. Trying to blend in, he said. Din thought it was hard to blend in while dressed completely in black, but admitted it did cut down on the amount of people that pointed and gawked at the Galaxy’s Most Well Known Jedi.
Whenever they reached their destination, Luke would pull back his hood, every hair in place, framing his handsome face and beautiful smile.
The cloak hair didn’t show up unless Something Happened.
Din didn’t expect it, the first time it happened. The two of them had been in a large city, trying to locate a contact that had promises of some sort of old Jedi artifact. They don’t know if the contact tried to get rid of them or if it was a case of bad luck -they got the artifact from a confused but polite scholar- but a small group of pirates had spotted them and apparently thought they could take on a Mandalorian and cloaked man on their own.
In the end, they had run. Luke didn’t want to fight in the middle of a crowded area, where the pirates could use innocent people as shields, and pushed them back far enough to give himself and Din a head start.
They ran down the street, alleyways, until they reached a dead end, where Luke used his Jedi magic to jump up the side of a building. Din followed close after with his jetpack, landing lightly by Luke and crouching down with him so they wouldn’t be seen from street level. Luke was grinning, having enjoyed the run, and pulled his hood back.
Din couldn’t stop his chuckle.
Between the chaos of the short fight and their escape, static had built up under the hood of the cloak, and Luke’s blond hair stood up every which way. Luke didn’t realize or was too distracted, but either way, Din was amused by the halo of hair that stood from the man’s head.
Luke looked at him, head tilting to the side, until Din reached forward. A crackle of static could be heard as Din tried to tame the strands, and his chuckle turned into a laugh when Luke quickly pulled the hood up again.
Cloak hair wasn’t seen as often as helmet hair, but Din still smiled each time he got a glimpse.
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