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chasingkerouacFandom: The Mandalorian
Words: 5k / ?
Characters: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth, Grogu, Rey
Summary: Single father Din Djarin is trying to finish his long neglected degree and must take a class this semester or lose his active student status. The only class available is a literature class he has no interest in, but when his silver fox of a professor walks in he might just change his mind.
English professor Cobb Vanth is a serial first-dater on every app available, and is immediately intrigued by the profile of a man who seems to be going for warm, not sexy. Unfortunately that man is currently sitting in the front row of his class.
Sometimes you find exactly what you need in the most unexpected of places.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
The woman glanced up from her computer, her expression bland, and returned to her search. “That sort of language doesn’t open up classes, Mr. Djarin.”
Din took a deep breath and pushed all of his frustration down. Down as far as he could shove it. Then down a bit more. “I apologize, I shouldn’t take out my frustration on you,” he said evenly. “It’s just that, the class was wide open when I looked at it. A few minutes ago.” He took another deep breath. “In the hallway while I was waiting to speak with you.”
“That’s the way it goes with these electives,” she mused. “You should’ve signed up through the online portal - it’s much quicker than coming in.”
Din nodded. “Yes, you see, I tried to do that. But the last time I took a class, the portal was different.”
“And whose fault is that?”
He silently counted to five, each number pushing his irritation down where it wouldn’t threaten to spill over. “Ma’am, my login credentials no longer worked, and when I tried to reset them, the system said that I had to come in person to the Registrar’s office to be able to sign up for classes. I’m assuming because it’s been a few years since I last took a class.”
“Quite a few years, Mr. Djarin,” she murmured. “Truthfully, you’re lucky you came in when you did. This is the last semester we can reinstate your active student status before some of your credits start falling off. It looks like you’re… three courses shy of finishing this degree.”
Din nodded. “Two next semester, and one over the summer. I was hoping to have the elective this semester count towards -”
“I’m sorry, that’s not going to be possible.”
Din tried desperately to keep his expression neutral. “I’m not able -”
“The course is full,” she repeated. “And I’m not going to bump a student who registered on time.”
Din sighed. “Okay. Can I register for the two I need next semester now to make sure I get them?”
She shook her head. “No. And unfortunately, as I said before, you’re going to need to take a course this semester to retain your active status so that you’re even able to register for classes next semester.”
“So I need to pay for and take a class that I don’t need, that won’t count towards anything, in order to be able to pay you next semester to take the classes I do need?”
“Or else you can start retaking some of the earliest classes because it’s been -”
“I know how long it’s been, thank you,” he sighed, absolutely not needing the reminder of how old he was. “Look, that elective fit into my work schedule. Do you have anything else that’s available in that time slot? Something easy?” he added with what he hoped was a charming grin. Or at this point he’d take pathetic, if pathetic would get through to her.
“Are you insinuating that we offer breezy, unimportant courses here?”
Din tilted his head. “No?”
That got a smile out of her. “I’m pulling your leg. There are some absolutely terrible courses that I’ve tried to have removed but… I digress.” She absently scrolled through her list. “Not too many courses slated for 8am, for obvious attendance reasons… wait, I have a literature course available.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best fit for-”
“You’re registered for the literature course, Mr. Djarin,” she said, clicking a few keys before looking up and smiling. “Just think, you’ll be able to use your deep seated frustration with both myself and the system you find yourself locked into to perhaps write the Great American Novel this semester.”
“There’s nothing else?”
“Mr. Djarin,” she said, “at this point you should feel grateful that I even have that slot available. And who knows, this course could end up changing your life.”
Din lifted an eyebrow. “Really?”
“No, but we’re done here and you can leave now.”
“So why am I adjusting your schedule starting next week?”
Din poked his head out from behind the truck. “Classes start next week,” he explained. Again. Peli was a talented mechanic, and a decent boss, but her hearing was selective at best when it had to do with anything other than the shop. “I’ve got an 8am a few days a week, but I’ll be in by 10:30. It shouldn’t disrupt the schedule too much.”
“Classes for what?”
“I’m finishing up my Bachelors.”
“You’re still working on that?”
Din set his wrench down and sighed. “Yes, still,” he mumbled. “I haven’t been able to take anything in the past couple of years.”
“You can’t blame me for that.”
Din shook his head. “I got a kid, Peli. Time became a little scarce at that point.”
The kid - Grogu - came into his life a year and a half ago. Tiny and helpless, and with an immediate vice grip on Din’s heart. He never planned on single fatherhood. Hell, he’d never planned on fatherhood at all. His previous life never left room for anyone else. He joined the Army at eighteen, spent years moving around between bases and getting shot at when Uncle Sam deployed him, and finally retired when his body gave out and he decided he wanted to build something instead of tear it down. Something permanent.
Grogu was as permanent as it got. He burned out on classes for a few years after retirement, convincing himself it would be easy to pick it back up the next semester and then the next and then before he knew it, it had been years. But now with Grogu in his life? Din wanted to set a good example for his son. He wanted to finish what he started. And if he could just get through this waste of time literature class, he could be finished with his degree in under a year.
“And you think time’s just easing up now?” Peli asked. “I think that means you’re not busy enough. There’s always more work to do around here.”
Din huffed a small chuckle. “Yeah, but I’m gonna make time for this. I’m trying to set a good example. He’s gonna grow up one day and… I want him to be proud of his dad.”
Peli’s shoulders dropped and she placed a hand on her heart. “Din Djarin, that might be the softest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Really?”
“No,” she tossed back. “It sounds sappy and like the lines right before a commercial on a made-for-tv holiday special.” She watched him for a second before sighing, and grinning. “Fine, okay, maybe it was sweet and sincere. You’ve gotten soft since the kid came along.”
“You enjoy any excuse for me to bring him by.”
“He likes me the best, and I can’t blame him. He has excellent taste.”
“He does.”
“But he’s a handful.”
Din nodded. “Yes, he is a handful.”
“You know what would help with that?”
“More affordable daycare options?”
“A partner,” Peli said matter-of-factly. “A second body around. Another set of hands. To love and to cherish and all that.”
Din picked up his wrench and ducked his head back under the hood of the truck. “Now who sounds sappy?” He didn’t want to endure this conversation again. He’d made the mistake one night after work, and after a couple of beers, of mentioning that single fatherhood got lonely. Peli took that as a challenge and brought it up every few months or so. He didn’t need the reminder, he knew it would be easier with someone else, and he knew he wanted someone else. But folks itching to date a middle-aged man just getting by and single parenting a toddler were few and far between. He could get by just fine on his own - he had for years. No partner was better than the wrong partner, for both him and Grogu. “I’m too busy right now to think about dating.” Maybe that’ll buy him another few months. “Maybe after I finish my degree.”
“What are you finishing?” came a woman’s voice from the other side of the truck.
Din looked up. “Hey, Cara,” he said. “Truck’s almost ready. I've just got to make sure everything’s tightened back up. Ten minutes?”
“No rush,” Cara said. “Shift ended so I got dropped off here. Hey, Peli.”
“Sherriff,” Peli replied. “You know, we’re good, but at some point you’re just going to have to replace the whole rust bucket.”
Cara shrugged. “Look, when the county says I can replace it, I’ll replace the truck. Until then, I’ll depend on you to keep it running. You’re saying you’re not up to the challenge?”
Peli gasped as she turned to glare at Cara. “I can’t believe that you would insult me like that in my own home. My own home! Quit pestering me and pester him instead.”
“What do I need to pester him about?”
“Peli, no,” Din tried.
“He’s alone, and sad, and refuses to date in order to no longer be alone and sad,” Peli replied. “And if he’s not going to listen to me, maybe he’ll listen to someone else. The only way to not be alone and sad is to get out there and try to meet someone.”
“I’m not alone and sad,” Din said.
“I’m surprised,” Cara mused. “Handsome guy like you, I figure you’d get a lot of hits on your profile.”
Din sighed. There was no way around this conversation, was there? “I don’t… I’m not on a dating site. Any of them.”
“Why not?”
Din shut the hood of the truck and placed the wrench back in the box. “It’s weird. Shopping for people like a pair of pants. Wrong size, wrong shape, wrong color. And what am I supposed to put on there?”
Cara put her hand out. “Give me your phone.”
Without thinking, Din handed it off. “Tired single dad, attempting to fit in dating between everything else that needs to be done? Is that really what’s going to get someone to click on me? I think there’s maybe two pictures of me that don't have some kind of baby stain or oil stain.”
“I see three in your photos,” Cara mused, grinning, as she scrolled through his phone. “One of them’s from the beach so obviously no stains… oh and the kid looks so cute in his frog hat.”
“Three,” Din relented.
“Just gonna crop him out...” Cara murmured.
“What?”
“Nothing, how tall are you?”
Din shrugged. “I don’t know. Five eleven, somewhere around there.”
“You’re so fucking honest, not even going to round it up to six foot?” Cara chuckled.
“Why do you care how tall I am?”
“Just making conversation.”
Din sighed again. “I just… I just wish that it was easier, okay? Why is it impossible just to meet someone? People used to meet other people all the time. Out and about, doing normal things. And you could meet them without having to exist as a close up photo of eight-pack abs.”
Cara looked up from Din’s phone and cocked her head. “How much going out and doing normal things do you do?”
“I -”
“That doesn’t involve coming here, or picking up the kid at daycare?” she clarified.
Din paused. Then sighed. “We go to the park sometimes. And the grocery store.”
“He’s taking a class at the university this semester,” Peli piped up. “Maybe his soulmate will walk into that lecture hall and sweep him right off his feet.”
“I’m not going out with some eighteen year old college student. I’m already raising one kid, I don’t need another,” Din protested.
“Well, if the universe doesn’t provide you with the perfect mate, delivered directly to you in class, you can get some action here.” Cara handed Din back his phone, with a dating app open and a profile set up.
“Cara, come on,” he said, scrolling through what she’d set up. “I don’t need this. I’m just going to delete this. Huh, okay… at least I don’t sound completely pathetic here. Thank you for not putting pictures of my kid up.”
“If anyone seems interesting, you can tell them. In person,” Cara said. “This is something just for you. And maybe it’s just a fuck or two to get you warmed up. You’ve been out of the game for a while, so a few practice dates aren’t a terrible idea. So that when you magically run into this perfect person in real life, you’re not stumbling over yourself because you’ve forgotten how to flirt.”
Din considered. Maybe it wasn’t a terrible idea. The chances of meeting anyone worthwhile on his phone were slim, but she was right. He was woefully out of practice. A date or two wasn’t a huge commitment, and Grogu was getting better with other people putting him to bed so leaving him for a couple hours here or there in the evening wasn’t completely out of the question.
“Fine,” he relented. “I won’t delete it. For a few weeks,” he clarified. “We’ll see what happens.”
“Does helping you find love translate into a discount on the repair?” Cara asked.
Peli shook her head. “No discounts.”
Din walked into the classroom acutely feeling every year of his age. He reminded himself as he parked, and as he walked in, and as he picked an open seat at random that this class didn’t actually count. He needed to be signed up for it, and he needed to pass it, but he didn’t need to retain anything in order to sign up for the few remaining classes that actually would count and would get him his degree.
Actually, he wasn’t even certain he needed to pass the class. He only needed to pay for it to retain active status. There was a good chance he could just walk out now and nothing would be any different.
He wouldn’t do that, though. It’s the same argument as that cursed dating profile from a couple weeks ago. He’s been out of school for years, so taking something that didn’t actually count towards finishing his degree would be good practice for the courses that mattered. This was practice. He was warming up his brain for next semester.
The dating app had remained closed since Cara created it. She’d originally set it to give him a notification each time someone messaged him, but he immediately shut that off. He’d look at it when he was ready, and if anyone had sent him something when he was ready to look… so be it. But he wasn’t living and dying by it. Having it out there was fine, but he wanted to focus on things that really mattered. His son, his work, finishing his degree, hell, even whether the easy peel mandarins were on sale this week was more important. Grogu loved chomping on each section hard enough to make them squish and then laughing like it was the funniest thing ever. That was more important.
He needed Grogu. He didn’t need to date.
“Hey.” Din turned at the insistent voice next to him. The girl smiled brightly and motioned to his backpack. “Do you have a pen I could borrow?”
“Sure,” Din said. He pulled an extra pen from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Oh awesome, thanks!” she beamed. She pulled a laptop from her bag and woke it up, then leaned back with the pen still in her hand.
Okay. “Why did you need the pen if you have the laptop?” he asked.
“Oh, sorry, yeah, just to mess with,” she replied. “Sometimes you just have to have something in your hand to play with while you’re listening. I promise not to pop the cap off and lose it if that’s what you’re worried about. I will return it in exactly the condition that you loaned it to me. I’m Rey, by the way.”
“Din,” he said. “And I understand that. I’m the same way.”
“See, we can be pen buddies. I like you, Din. Oh, this is Finn, by the way,” Rey added, leaning back so the guy sitting on the other side of her could wave hello. “So I’m guessing you’re here cause you need an elective, cause if you were here for the major I’m pretty sure I would’ve seen you in the building at some point.”
Din nodded. “It’s been a few years. This was the only class available that fit into my work schedule when I registered.”
“Ah yes, the curse of the 8am class,” she agreed. “No one signs up for an 8am unless they absolutely have to. But this class should be great. The books are interesting, and it’s mostly just talking and then writing about what you’re talking about. Honestly, as long as you can form an opinion you’ll be fine. Plus, I can personally vouch that the professor doesn’t absolutely suck,” she added with a grin.
“Good morning and wake up - an 8am class is not the crisis that y’all fear it is,” came a voice from the front of the room as the classroom door swung closed behind him. “I’m Dr. Vanth, and you’re here because-”
It was entirely Cara and Peli’s fault. All that talk about dating and someone being delivered right to class had his brain distracted and looking for things he normally wouldn’t.
Things like the tall, handsome professor breezing into class.
He tried to pull his attention back to the instructions at hand. Dr. Vanth was writing something on the board, his explanations accented by turning, smiling, motioning with the marker held loosely in his fingers, before returning to… c’mon, pay attention, Din scolded himself. But he couldn’t. Dark, snug jeans and a well-tailored blazer with fucking elbow patches aside, his heart ended up in his throat each time Vanth turned around to smile at the class. Neat silver hair moved with each turn, and his whole face lit up each time he shared… what, a joke? A story? An instruction? Din had no idea, but he really wanted to reach out and rub his hand along Vanth’s bearded jawline and-
“Well, shit.”
Din snapped out of his musing and focused on Vanth - staring at him? Oh shit, did he completely miss a question? “Sorry, did I miss something?” he murmured. Pay attention, Din. Pay attention to what’s going on in the class and not to how good the goddamn professor looks.
Vanth shook his head and cleared his throat as he capped the marker and slipped it into his back pocket. “Apologies. I lost my train of thought.” He clapped his hands together and grinned broadly. “I think we’ve got a good group here this semester. I see a few familiar faces, and a lot of new faces. So we’re going to have some fun, probably make each other a little angry, and hopefully learn a few things y’all can take out there into the world. Let’s meander through the syllabus since I’m sure none of y’all did the first reading yet, and honestly, I wouldn’t have either.”
The rest of the class went by surprisingly quickly. Vanth rarely stood still for longer than a minute or two, Din discovered. He’d walk and talk, hands moving as he made a point or slipped easily into his pockets when he leaned against the desk situated at the front. He laughed at his own jokes - a few that elicited groans from the rest of the class, but Din couldn’t help but smile. Vanth was knowledgeable, and charming, and passionate, and… fuck.
He had a crush on his professor, didn’t he?
Not that that would do him any good. Cara was right - he should just get on the app she set up for him and find someone to flirt with. At this point anyone would be good practice. And anyone on there would actually be available , instead of his literature professor.
Cobb hung out in the classroom for a few minutes while the students filtered out. Smiling, nodding, answering a couple of questions from students as they exited. But the student he was hoping to speak to must’ve slipped out while he was occupied. The man - Din Djarin, thank you attendance list - looked strikingly familiar, but he didn’t dare check while he was around other students.
With everyone out, and nothing but meetings and office hours on his calendar for the rest of the day, he headed down the hallway towards his office. The dating app on his phone was open and pulling up his suggested matches before he even reached the door. He hadn’t meant to swear or startle the man, and honestly this is what he got for swiping through matches right before class, but there he was: Din D., 41 , and a picture of him sitting casually on a beach, hair damp and wavy, and the most genuine smile. It was obviously cropped, probably nixing out an ex, but he looked genuinely happy and Cobb was immediately intrigued. He would’ve messaged him too, if he hadn’t been running late for class. Figured he would match and message him as soon as class was over, but… he guessed he should be thankful for small favors that kept him from making that mistake. No students, that was the rule. Which was easier when all the students were nineteen and very obviously off limits. But this guy? Why couldn’t he have popped up last week, or at least the day before…
“Vanth, how did the first day go?”
Cobb looked up to find the Dean approaching, and realized that he’d made it as far as leaning against the door jamb to his office before getting distracted. “Hey, Ben,” he said, tapping his screen dark. “Everyone showed up, and on time. I think that’s as good a start to the semester as I can hope for.” He’d known Ben Kenobi for twenty years, first as his thesis advisor back when he was a poor and exhausted graduate student, then as a colleague whom Cobb assumed was the entire reason he got hired in the first place, and finally now as the Dean. He was pretty sure Kenobi only agreed to move into the Dean’s office because it let him teach the one class he had a deep interest in, and then wander the halls sticking his nose in everything, or as he insisted, ‘imparting wisdom’.
“Good, good,” Ben replied. “But more importantly, what about the fella I saw you with last week at the grad student mixer? How’s that going?”
It took Cobb a moment to remember. “Oh… oh, yeah, that’s not a thing.”
“He seemed nice. Very attractive.”
“Yeah, but not the best conversationalist,” Cobb pointed out. “I think your words were ‘he’s dumb as a brick and half as charming’,” he added with a grin.
Ben shrugged, conceding the point. “But still, very nice.”
Cobb laughed. “Yeah. No, he’s not still around. I, ah, have them around for a good time, not a long time. There’s plenty of fish in the sea and I haven’t tasted anywhere near enough.”
Ben shook his head, but the affection was obvious. “You know, one of these days someone’s going to stop you in your tracks and you won’t know what to do with yourself.”
“Is that why you stopped by? To harass me about my love life? Don’t you have real work you should be doing?”
“I’m multitasking,” Ben mused. “The gossip in the administration building isn’t nearly as juicy. Also, the scholarship committee meeting is in an hour and I wanted to make sure you had a chance to review the three candidates that were added for consideration at the last minute.”
Cobb nodded. “I’ve got it handled. I’ll see you then.”
Ben reached over and gave Cobb a pat on the shoulder. “You never know when you might meet them…”
“Go away, Ben,” Cobb responded lightly.
“That’s ‘go away, Dean Ben’,” Ben chuckled. “Respect your elders.”
Cobb shook his head and closed his office door behind him before opening up the app once more and staring fondly at Din D. He couldn’t, no matter how much he might want to, but he didn’t have the heart to decline the match either. Nothing wrong with letting it sit for a few days. No shame in that at all.
The app buzzed with a new message from someone matching and wanting to chat. Toro C., 20 , and a shirtless pic. Yet another face he recognized from class this morning.
That one was easy to decline and delete.
