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Rex is willing to admit that this whole situation was at least partially his fault. He had been the one who wanted a pet. He had been the one to argue an unconvinced Cody around. He had even been the one to not take Cody picking an animal up, staring it straight in the eyes, and saying ‘this one gets me’ as the very obvious warning sign it was.
Rex had just been assuming they’d get a massiff or something.
The miniature vornskr, lip curled back, saliva pooling behind her teeth, snarls up at Rex from his chair. Unlike their full size cousins, the miniature variety can’t break bones with their bite — at least that’s what all of Rex’s research assures him — but they can still shred meat from bone and have the additional motivator of knowing exactly how large they used to be before it was bred out of them, and carry a great deal of fury over what was taken from them.
The vornskr trembles with rage as she glares at Rex across the room, teeth bared, muscles tense, ridges along her back extending, eyes locked on Rex. She has murderous intent written all over her.
“Cody, your pet’s growling at me again!” Rex yells through the house, because he’s a mature adult who has lived through a war and an empire and will not get in a fight with a creature that weighs barely two kilos after a big meal.
“Our pet,” Cody says, brushing past Rex. “Come here, Sweet Thing,” he continues, scooping the tiny monster up into his arms. She goes lax immediately, all the tension gone, tongue lolling out of her mouth, staring up at her favourite person with the biggest eyes she can manage. Cody smiles back at her, more love on his face than he has ever shown another living being in thirty years.
“I thought we agreed she wasn’t allowed on the furniture,” Rex says, more from habit at this point. Cody had been the one to lay out the rules before they even stepped foot in the shelter, but in the past couple years all the rules that hadn’t been thrown out the moment that sithspawn had been brought into their house have been worn away.
As it turned out, at least when it came to his precious baby girl, Cody was a fucking pushover.
“She doesn’t take up much space,” Cody says, not looking up from Sweet Thing. “Do you, sweetheart? No, you’re a good girl, aren’t you? My best girl.”
He bends and kisses the side of her muzzle, right by her inch long fangs.
Rex comes over, wrapping an arm around Cody’s waist, ignoring the way Sweet Thing’s eyes flick over to him and narrow.
“You never talk to me like that,” Rex says.
Cody looks up at him, eyes glinting. He shifts Sweet Thing to his other arm, thankfully away from Rex.
“You’re right, Captain,” Cody says, and leans in, brushing his lips over Rex’s check. “I don’t.”
Rex snorts, and pinches Cody’s side.
“We need to get groceries. I can go alone if you want?” Rex says, rubbing at his beard. That might be best, considering last time…
“No, let me just put her sweater on, and we’ll come.” Cody slips out of Rex’s arm, shuffling back through to the kitchen.
We? Cody has got to be fucking kidding.
“No ‘we’, Cody. We agreed she wasn’t coming after last time,” Rex insists, and is ignored. Cody puts Sweet Thing down on the counter-top, pulling an opened package over. Sweet Thing immediately tries to get her nose in but with a click of Cody’s tongue flops down into a sit.
“Your uncle Wolffe made you a present. Do you want to see, sweetie?” Cody asks. Sweet Thing wags her tail with the kind of enthusiasm that wiggles her whole ass, spines and all.
“Cody,” Rex says, trying to maintain some control over the situation. “She’s not coming.”
“She likes speeder rides,” Cody says, without looking away from Sweet Thing. He pulls the crochet sweater out of the box. It’s white striped with 212th gold because Wolffe hates Rex, and thinks that Cody replacing him with a demon is very funny. Cody pulls the thing over her head, careful of the spines catching. For an animal that will maul anyone who looks at her funny, she’s pathetically tolerant of whatever bantha shit Cody throws her way. It would be cute except for all the ways it isn’t.
“Shame I didn’t have you during the war, huh? You’d have made a better lieutenant than Boil. You’d have liked that wouldn’t you? Been my best officer,” Cody says. Sweet Thing isn’t smart enough not to stick her nose in her own vomit, she’s definitely not smart enough to understand the sappy crap Cody showers her with. All the same, she fixes Rex with a look that can only be described as smug.
“I thought I was your favourite officer?” Rex asks, even though he knows he’s setting himself up for failure.
Cody shoots Rex a smirk, finishing wrangling his creature into the sweater. She looks ridiculous, the wool catching on her ridges and the whole thing contrasting terribly with the rabid animal look she’s perfected, but she looks up at Cody with adoring eyes.
Once Rex tried to clip her lead onto her harness and still has the scars from it.
“Don’t you look pretty?” Cody croons.
She wags her tail harder.
Cody looks delighted, which is of course the problem. Age has matured Cody into an anti-social asshole, who considers Wolffe one of his closest friends and comms him maybe once a month. But he loves that stupid animal with all his heart.
“She can come, but she has to wait in the speeder,” Rex bargains, because Sweet Thing might have Cody wrapped around her gnarly paw, but Cody has Rex just as hopelessly governed by his whims.
“You hear that, baby!” Cody says, placing her down on the floor where she immediately scuttles off towards the front door, Cody on her heels.
“She has to stay in the speeder, Cody!” Rex calls, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.
Cody pretends not to hear him, but he’s not that old and his hearing is not that bad.
Bastard.
Rex grabs the bags from under the sink and follows Cody out to the speeder. Maybe it won’t be as bad this time.
—
Sweet Thing really does love the speeder.
Rex drives because Cody is busy holding up his favourite so she can stick her slobbering jaws out of the side of the speeder. Her tail whips back and forth, smacking Cody in the chest with audible force. If he has any issues with it he doesn’t show it.
This can only end badly, but at least if she’s here she can’t piss in his boots in what is — despite Cody insisting is separation anxiety — an act of malicious violence.
The closest town is far enough to guarantee them peace and quiet. Rex had argued for closer — Cody had argued for an uncolonised planet — but Rex is pretty happy where they ended up. They can grow most of what they need, and they both supplemented their military skills with domestic ones, but there are some luxuries that are worth a trip into town for.
It’s early afternoon, the sun high in the sky and with a gentle breeze to keep the warm weather pleasant. Sweet Thing’s ears flap in the wind and Cody watches out of the window over her head; the hand not keeping Sweet Thing from deciding she can totally take one of the happabores in the passing fields is on Rex’s knee, thumb rubbing back and forth.
It’s a terrible idea to bring Sweet Thing, but Rex does prefer when Cody comes too.
Rex parks, switching off the engine, rubbing at his knees.
Cody gets out of the car before Rex can remind him of their agreement, Sweet Thing jumping down right after him. She waits at his feet until he dutifully picks her up.
“Cody,” Rex warns him.
“I’ve got her,” Cody says, which is exactly Rex’s concern. He clips her leash — the one she can shred in a handful of seconds — onto her collar, but keeps her in his arms.
Rex already knows he’s lost, had lost the very second he’d agreed to let Cody take Sweet Thing home, but he rounds the speeder anyway, folding his arms and glaring.
Cody is perfectly unaffected, as is his vornskr. She trembles mockingly at him.
“Come on, Old Boy. Sooner we start sooner we’ll be done,” Cody says, and Rex hates that he still finds the stupid nickname charming.
“If you get us banned I’m leaving you,” Rex says, but is a sucker, so when Cody offers his free hand, Rex takes it, and allows himself to be led into the store.
Cody puts Sweet Thing into their cart. She walks around in two circles before setting down in the very middle, where she lounges like a Hutt. Cody pushes the cart — and theoretically manages Sweet Thing — and Rex reads the list. It is actually easier when Cody comes, even if it means Rex has a pair of beady eyes glaring at him the whole time.
Rex is used to ignoring that though, as well as Cody’s constant chatter to the awful animal. Cody’s personal favourite pet name for Rex is still Captain, albeit said with a fondness that betrays exactly how long they’ve been together, but for the mangy animal in the cart he pulls out terms Rex would have sworn only a few years ago that Cody would die before using sincerely.
Not that Rex is jealous; he doesn’t know what he’d do if Cody called him sweetie.
They don’t have a long list, they really are fairly self-sufficient; Cody gets some more toys for Sweet Thing to destroy, they pick up a wider selection of vegetables than they can grow themselves, they attempt to collect some of the honey candy the store sells that Rex has developed an unfortunate taste for only to be foiled by an empty shelf.
They’re almost done before Sweet Thing manages to create a problem; she’s on her best behaviour.
Some poor twi’lek knocks Cody's shoulder as she passes. Sweet Thing snarls, up on her hind legs, front paws on the edge of cart before they can even see if the woman was going to apologise or not. Cody, to what little credit Rex is willing to offer, is quick to snatch Sweet Thing up, before she can launch herself from the cart and make a mess in the aisle. It doesn’t mollify her, lip curling, teeth bared, a line of saliva sliding between her teeth and dripping to the floor.
The woman screeches, stumbling back, because tiny or not, Sweet Thing is a barely domesticated predator who leaves little doubt that she would love nothing more than to prove her bite is just as nasty as her bark.
“Keep that away from me,” she yells, pointing a finger accusingly at Sweet Thing. The vornskr snaps, and only Cody twisting her away allows the woman to keep all her fingers where she presumably would prefer them to remain.
Rex only just barely contains a sigh; why would she want her hand closer to it?
The twi’lek yelps again, stumbling backwards into the shelves, toilet paper thumping to the floor. She backs away, making sure there’s a safe distance between all of them before she turns and runs away properly.
Cody considers the situation, scratching behind Sweet Thing’s ears.
“I think that was a bit of an overreaction,” Cody says, and leans over her abandoned cart to poke through her groceries.
Rex snorts before he can help himself, and then twists away so Cody can’t see his pathetic attempts to force down a smile. Cody’s not wrong.
From there it’s only a matter of time.
The young togruta started working here a couple of months ago. He’s a nice boy, very polite and only very rarely giving off the very well earned impression that he’s not paid enough for the amount of shit he has to deal with. This isn’t the first time he’s had to speak to them.
“Uh, Sir?” he calls, appearing at the end of the aisle and hurrying down to catch up with them. The owner has finally bothered to get him a name badge, which the togruta has crossed out, and above in neat letters written ‘Gil’.
Cody puts on his most bathashit ‘polite old man’ face. It’s not quite as effective as the polite young man persona he wielded so expertly during the war, but it often gets the job done.
“Is there something wrong?” Cody asks, unearned innocence dripping off every word.
Sweet Thing snarls, baring as many of the too many teeth crammed into her mouth as she can manage.
“That th— She can’t be in here,” Gil says, deciding not to insult Sweet Thing before they even start, however earned.
Clever boy, Rex thinks, and pretends to be completely enraptured by the canned vegetables on the shelves next to them, abandoning Cody to his fate. He made this mess, he can clean it up. It’s not like Cody needs the back up anyway.
“She’s a service animal,” Cody says. “PTSD. I’m a Clone Wars Vet.”
Gil looks at Rex who is dumb enough to get caught looking back. The boys brows are raised up to the root of his montrals. Rex shrugs one shoulder helplessly.
Gil looks back at Cody and his very noticeably not unique face.
“Uh, yeah,” he says. “Obviously.”
Cody’s smirk widens in delight.
“Service animal or not, she’s been aggressive with other customers,” Gil says, dragging them back to the topic at hand. Sweet Thing helpfully growls at Gil, who is less intimidated than the twi’lek was. Rex supposes customer service will do that to you.
“The woman shoved me, Sweet Thing was just responding to my mental state,” Cody says.
“She tried to maul a child last week,” Gil says, looking about as unimpressed with that excuse as is deserved.
“He shouldn’t have run. It triggered her hunting instinct,” Cody says, voice perfectly pleasant, like that isn’t one of the most outrageous things he’s ever said. There’s a lot of competition.
Gil looks at Rex again. Rex looks intently at the ingredients list on the back of a can of keldrin-peas. Huh, that was more salt that he’d have assumed. Realising he isn’t going to find an ally in Rex — Rex might agree with Gil, and might not be willing to actively support Cody, but he’ll be damned if he publicly betrays him — Gil turns his attention back to Cody.
“Sir, I understand that she’s a service animal, but as she is endangering the other customers I must ask that you take her outside.” Gil takes a step towards Rex, gesturing at him. “Perhaps you could wait outside with her while your… Uh…” Gil trails off and Rex looks up from his can.
“My what?” Cody asks, grin turning sharper.
Rex can see the gears turning Gil’s head as he tries desperately to figure out what word he can possibly use to describe their relationship without offending either of them; natborns never did really manage to get a handle on what exactly the clones were up to. Brother? Partner? Husband? Friend? Outsourced scruples? All offered Cody a chance to play offended.
Gil however, is a smart boy, smarter than most.
He throws up his hands. “If she so much as looks at another customer wrong you’re all barred.” He grabs the twi’lek’s abandoned cart, shoving it in front of him.
“I like him,” Cody says, watching Gil retreat back down the aisle.
“I don’t think he likes us very much,” Rex says, and nudges Cody in the direction of the checkouts. “Come on, we’re pretty much done anyway.”
“You have to stop with the veteran thing,” Rex says, ignoring the twinge in his back as he lifts the bags from the cart to the back of the speeder. Sometimes that choice comes back to bite him but he refuses to learn from it.
“It’s funny,” Cody says, which isn’t the point at all. “The tog—”
“Gil,” Rex corrects.
Cody makes a face. “Gil thought so. That's why he let us stay.”
Cody puts Sweet Thing into the front of the speeder where she immediately moves over to the diver's side, presumably to make sure it carries her delightful smell when Rex sits there.
“He let us stay because you have decided to dedicate ten years of specialised training, three years of active combat experience, and another ten years of whatever the fuck you did undercover with the empire to making yourself as much of a problem as possible,” Rex says.
Cody laughs. At least being a problem always puts him in a great mood.
And it is a little funny.
“Let me put this back,” Cody says, and takes the cart from Rex, pushing it over to the cart return.
“Don’t leave her with me, Cody,” Rex calls but Cody plays deaf again and is gone.
Sweet Thing looks up at Rex from the speeder. One of her spines has caught on the sweater and pushed a hole in it. She bares her teeth.
“If we ever fought,” Rex tells her. “I’d win.”
Sweet Thing’s spines rise under her sweater, poking the material up. She lashes her tail and a low rumble builds in her chest and bursts out in a vicious snarl. She trembles with the force of it.
“The only reason I let this happen is because I love Cody,” Rex says, leaning against the speeder.
Sweet Thing narrows her eyes and drops into a squat.
Rex lunges. “You miserable lit—”
“Stop harassing her!” Cody reappears at Rex’s shoulder, getting himself between Rex and thing masquerading as a pet. She’s sitting again, tail wagging gentle back and forth across the seat, spines tearing the already worn leather.
"Harassing? Cody, she was about to piss in our speeder.”
“You wouldn’t do that, would you, baby?” Cody says, squishing Sweet Thing’s face between his hands. She stares dumbly up at him. “You’re such a good girl.” He returns his attention to Rex. “If she needed to go, why didn’t you let her out.”
Rex decides, as is often the case, that it’s not a point worth arguing. He waits until Cody gets in and collects the hazard to his health back onto Cody’s side of the speeder before he gets in next to them.
Cody, the asshole that he is, pulls out a packet of treats from his coat pocket.
“Sit,” he says, and Sweet Thing promptly plops her ass down on his lap, staring ravenously up at his fingers. “Good girl.”
He offers the treat to her, and, with a gentleness that is lacking in all her other interactions, Sweet Thing takes the chunk from between his fingers. The second it’s clear of Cody’s hand she snaps her head back, swallowing it in one go.
Cody’s expression is sickening.
“You shouldn't reward her for this,” Rex says, and reaches over to rub at the back of Cody’s neck. Cody gives an indifferent little shrug and pushes the bag of treats into Rex’s hands
“Give her one,” Cody tells him.
“One day your attempt to get us to bond is going to lose me a finger,” Rex says, but removes a treat from the back and offers it to Cody’s monster, palm flat, fingers out of the way
Sweet Thing’s eyes flick between Rex, the treat, and Cody, the tiny part of her already small brain that isn’t just seething fury trying to decide what matters to her more: her deep love of Cody and also treats, or her desire to bury Rex in the back garden. She snaps the treat from his hand and promptly turns around, hiding her face in Cody’s coat as she presumably sulks at her own lack of integrity.
Cody looks delighted.
“See, you two can get on,” Cody says, like Sweet Thing and Rex are both equally to blame for the state of things.
Which is true only in the sense that Sweet Thing isn’t actively trying to murder Rex these days, but Rex doesn’t want to be the one to wipe that expression off Cody's face, so he just gives an unconvinced hum, and passes the packet back over. Rex rubs his hand on his pants, trying to get the smell of whatever goes into vornskr treats from his palm.
Sweet Thing twitches at the sound of crinkling but doesn’t reemerge.
“I’m still annoyed at you for bringing her,” Rex says, though he isn’t really. The unfortunate truth is Cody has always enjoyed being difficult, and Rex has always enjoyed watching him be difficult.
“So I guess you don’t want these then?” Cody asks, and pulls out a packet of the honey candy Rex likes so much from the same pocket where he just put Sweet Thing’s treats.
“Are you giving me a treat,” Rex asks, but eyes the bag, ready to make a swipe if Cody decides not to hand them over; he’s not too old to wrestle Cody for some candy and he hopes he never will be. “Where did you get those?” He’d even checked none had fallen down the back of the shelf.
“I took them from the twi’lek’s cart,” Cody says, and Rex has never loved Cody more. “I won’t make you eat them from my hand.”
Despite his claim, Cody doesn’t hand over the bag, keeping it close, daring Rex to do something about it.
“Maybe later,” Rex says. “You’d probably be putting your fingers at less risk than I was.”
Cody gives Rex a smile that’s all teeth. “What if I ask really nicely?”
Rex rolls his eyes, leaning over to kiss Cody, ignoring how Sweet Thing peeks out of Cody’s coat at the movement. Rex uses the kiss to distract Cody while he steals the bag of sweets from his hand. Cody lets it happen.
“You’re both staying home next time until things have settled down,” Rex says, tearing into the bag, popping one into his mouth, and tucking the rest down by the door before starting the engine.
Cody hums noncommittally. Sweet Thing pants loudly.
—
They go for a walk before dinner. It’s good for all of them. Rex and Cody never really learned to enjoy inactivity, and Sweet Thing is less destructive when she’s tired out.
Less being the keyword but Rex has learned to take what he can get.
Sweet Thing skulks along beside them until she decides she’s had enough, parking herself in the middle of the path. Cody doesn’t hesitate to pick her up, cradling her like the galaxy's ugliest baby.
“You know the point is for her to get exercise,” Rex says, nudging his shoulder against Cody’s. It’s still a nice day, but there are clouds forming at the edges of the sky promising rain later. It’s for the best, the vegetables could use it.
“She had a long day,” Cody says. He follows Rex’s gaze out to the clouds. There’s no one else who comes up this way. They grew up packed together like frella fish and the space is a luxury Rex has never really adjusted to.
They walk until the break from the sparse treeline onto an open grassy meadow.
Sweet Thing recognises it immediately. She hacks out something that’s almost a bark and tries to squirm her way out of Cody’s arms. He puts her down carefully instead. She dashes away and then back, vibrating with excitement rather than her normal fury.
Cody pulls a ball from the pouch strapped around his waist. The bag holds about half a dozen, and Rex has about the same; they’ll need all of them.
Cody doesn’t have the upper body strength he once boasted, but he’s still got a hell of an arm.
He tosses the ball between his hands, Sweet Thing’s head snapping back and forth, and then draws it back and throws it as far as he can.
Sweet Thing takes off like a ship hitting hyperspace. Rex hopes he never has to deal with a full-sized vornskr. She collides with the toy with such force she sends them both tumbling through the dirt, vanishing but for the disturbance in the long grass.
The ball lasts approximately another half second before it’s scattered in pieces around her. She trots back over to Cody, delivering the largest part of the ball's corpse to his feet. She wiggles excitedly as he removes another ball from his bag.
This one even survives to be thrown a second time.
“I’m thinking of making her new steps up to the bed,” Cody says, watching his hellbeast dismember the current ball with joyous viciousness.
“The one she’s not allowed on,” Rex asks, brushing the back of his knuckles over Cody’s.
“Yeah, that one,” Cody says, tone not shifting in the slightest. “I think I can do better than the first set.”
He definitely can. Cody had taught himself woodworking for Sweet Thing, but he’d found plenty of use for the skill around the rest of the house. He could make something much nicer than his first attempt these days. That really wasn’t the point though.
“I’ve been asking you to fix the shelf in the shed for weeks,” Rex points out. He’s been having to keep the garden tools in boxes in case the entire thing gives way. He could drill it back in himself, but they’d been talking of improving it over the winter anyway, and now seemed like a good time.
Cody nods, Sweet Thing bouncing back over, not even bothering to drag the mutilated ball back with her. Cody is out of balls, so Rex throws one of his. She’s thrilled enough that she doesn’t seem to mind that it’s not from her person.
“I’ll do it after the stairs,” Cody promises.
Rex rolls his eyes and sighs.
The wind rustles through the grass, and Rex shoves his hands into his pockets, forgiving Cody the second Cody also tucks one of his hands into Rex’s pocket, linking their fingers together.
It’s quiet, and no one needs them, and they have the rest of their lives ahead of them. It’s simple and theirs.
“I love you,” Rex says.
“I love you too,” Cody says, a warm presence at Rex’s side. The sun is getting lower, painting everything in a deep orange.
A few metres away Sweet Thing wheezes and slobbers audibly over her prey.
—
It’s Cody’s turn to cook. He’s not very good, but neither is Rex really; it’s a good thing they grew up on bland rations and can stomach more or less anything.
Sweet Thing eats better than both of them, a mix of food Cody imports from off-planet and raw food he prepares himself. Cody might have created a spoiled beast but she’s probably the healthiest pet Rex has ever seen.
But she is unbearably spoiled.
“Hold on, baby,” Cody says, and puts a hand on her chest to keep her from climbing up onto the table while he chases food around his plate with one hand. Only once he’s managed to get a bite does he put his fork down, picking up some of her kibble from the bowl next to his plate and passing it over to her.
At some point in the far distant past, they had agreed that their pet wouldn’t be allowed at the dinner table.
Sweet Thing crunches on her kibble but her eyes are still locked on the blurrg bone in her bowl. A line of drool slips down and drops onto Cody’s leg.
Rex looks away before he goes off his dinner. She’s truly disgusting. Cody disagrees, cooing over her as he steals another bite before she starts demanding his attention again.
“I think you love her more than me,” Rex teases, kicking Cody gently under the table.
Cody looks up from Sweet Thing. “Hmm? What was that?”
Rex snorts, and waves him off. “Don’t worry about it.”
Cody gives him a look, but is quickly distracted by Sweet Thing again, passing her some more kibble. Rex has suggested more than once that she eat on the floor, but Cody insists she eats too fast and throws up and is uninterested in entertaining other solutions to that problem.
At least Rex has good reason to believe that if he ever falls sick Cody will take very good care of him.
They talk a little as they eat — between Cody feeding Sweet Thing — Rex lays out his plans to expand the vegetable garden and if Sweet Thing could handle them getting some nuna again. She probably couldn’t, but Rex is sure that between the two of them they could build something she couldn't get into. They might have to electrify it.
Rex has missed having fresh eggs.
“I’m going to work on her stairs tomorrow. I think it’s going to be too wet for anything outside.” Cody finally picks up the bone from Sweet Thing’s bowl. She launches herself forward but Cody is ready, holding her firmly, unaffected by her gnashing jaws. He passes it over and her teeth snap around it with such force it almost cracks.
Sweet Thing temporarily satisfied, Cody returns his attention across the table. “Can you clear the gardening tools out of the way of the workbench?”
The gall.
“If you fixed the shelf…” Rex says, let his slow trail off say as much as it possibly can.
Cody’s eyes glint. “Oh, I fixed that.”
Rex’s fork clatters to his plate. “Wha— When?”
“Last week.” Cody leans back in his chair, looking very pleased with himself.
Rex could ask why Cody hadn’t told him, but he already knows; Cody enjoys nothing more than holding information until it’s funniest for him to reveal it. Rex shouldn’t be that surprised. He knew exactly what he was getting into when they got together.
Sweet Thing gnaws on the blurrg bone. It crunches between her jaws and she wheezes around it, slobbering all over Cody’s lap.
He knew most of what he was getting into.
“I’ll put everything away tomorrow morning,” Rex says.
“No thank you?” Cody asks, innocently.
“No,” Rex says, pressing his lips into a thin line to avoid smiling as Cody laughs. He rounds the table, kissing Cody’s cheek and taking his own plate through to the sonic cleaner in the kitchen. Cody can get his own, considering he wants to be an ass.
Cody does what little of the dishes can’t go in the sonic even though it’s Rex’s turn. He doesn’t say it, but Rex takes it as an apology for winding him up over the shelf. Cody rarely apologises for anything, but he’s good at getting his intentions understood.
Sweet Thing lurks in the kitchen while he does them, snapping at the water Cody flicks at her.
After, Cody joins Rex in the living room, sitting next Rex on the couch, knees touching, enjoying the company, but doing their own thing.
Sweet Thing curls up on Cody’s lap, her head on his arm, snoring like a struggling LAAT/i engine. It’s not a pleasant sound, but one Rex has come to appreciate as it means she’s unlikely to try and eat him in the immediate future. Cody holds his datapad in one hand, scrolling through whatever piece of nonfiction he’s reading with his thumb. The other hand rests over Sweet Thing’s knobbly head except when he breaks to adjust his reading glasses.
Sweet Thing’s snoring stalls whenever Cody’s hand leaves her back, only restart the second it’s back.
Sometimes Rex reads too but he’s been on an audio-drama kick of late, and the earpieces he uses now might not have the same noise cancelling that his bucket did — though he suspects that might not have been enough either — but it does at least filter out the worst of the snoring.
In winter they light a real fire, but that’s still far enough off that Rex is happy in a thick sweater and Cody has a blanket over his knees and one over his shoulders; the very moment he had the luxury to care about being cold Cody decided he would never settle for anything other than cosy ever again.
Rex has been working on fixing their chrono alarm which Cody swears blind doesn’t go off half the time — personally Rex thinks they just don’t hear as well as they used to but he’s happy to humour Cody in this — but it sits mostly abandoned on Rex’s lap. Cody’s brows are furrowed, the lines on his face deepening. He taps his finger against the edge of the datapad, nose flaring in annoyance.
He taps on his datapad and Rex doesn’t need to be able to see the screen to know Cody is opening up another source to cross-reference whatever he just read and disagreed with. Rex almost just lets the moment pass. Instead he waits, giving Cody enough time to read enough that he starts to look triumphant.
Rex nudges Cody’s knee.
“What is it?” he asks, and nods at Cody’s datapad.
Cody is talking almost before Rex is finished asking, launching into a far deeper explanation that Rex — or anyone for that matter — could ever want. Rex likes to listen to Cody talk.
Sweet Thing finally huffs at Cody getting too loud and gesturing too aggressively at his datapad. She gets wobbly to her feet, stretches, farts, and then hops down and wanders off to cause problems somewhere else. Good riddance.
Cody has wound down by the time Sweet Thing returns, and Rex knows more about evolution of long range comm systems than he ever expected to. He is also now intimately aware that Doctor S. Tuckington is a hack who wouldn’t understand how to present non-biased evidence if his life depended on it, and his blatant downplaying of the contributions of the bothans would be comically incompetent if it wasn’t so racist.
Cody had been having a really good time.
Sweet Thing has something in her mouth. It looks like a piece of flimsi, the kind they sometimes use to make lists on, or leave notes for each other. Or the kind Rex had used at the suggestion of an old therapist to— Shit.
Rex’s mistake is lunging for it as Sweet Thing proudly delivers it to Cody, dropping it into his lap with the air of a Sith delivering a Jedi’s head to their master. Cody reacts to Rex’s desperation by snatching it up, standing fast enough to dislodge Sweet Thing and avoid Rex entirely. Rex sprawls across the coach, hand empty.
If he’d calmly reached for it, Cody would have just let him have it, but now it’s too late and Cody is reading it with pure delight across his face.
“Sometimes the work is resting. I am still learning so it’s okay to make mistakes,” Cody reads. “Rex, what are these?”
“Positive affirmations,” Rex says, torn between hiding his face in his hands and glaring at the beast responsible. “My therapist recommended them”
“You haven’t spoken to a therapist in years,” Cody says, still looking at the list. This time when Rex snatches it, Cody gives up.
“They help,” Rex says helplessly. Not that he needs them much these days, he’s not even sure where the little monster had found this one.
He looks down at the list and cringes. If the planet could swallow him up that would be fantastic, if it could take Sweet Thing too that would be perfect.
“I think you deserve to take up space,” Cody says, and he fakes sincerity so well. Rex snorts, the ridiculousness of the situation catching up with how embarrassed he is.
Cody climbs onto the couch, straddling Rex’s lap, catching Rex’s face between his hands. Cody still gives filthy kisses, open mouthed and possessive, licking into Rex’s mouth. He breaks the kiss, going far enough that Rex can see his smile, and his glasses knocked askew.
“I think you deserve self-respect too.”
“Shut up.” Rex shoves Cody and then pulls him back down to kiss him again.
Cody’s shoulders shake as he tries not to laugh.
The next time he tries to pull away Rex refuses, and there’s a moment of scrambling before Cody is grinning back down at Rex.
“You belong here,” Cody says and it’s stupid, and Rex wants to smack him and also kiss him again.
“Tell that to Sweet Thing.” She must still be around, but Cody is taking up almost his entire field of view.
“She thinks so too,” Cody lies.
“You’re going to fuck your knee again if you keep this up,” Rex says, still caught between embarrassment at Cody seeing the list and being flustered by Cody’s easy praise. Unfortunately both emotions make him blush terribly.
Cody ignores Rex’s warning and kisses Rex again.
“Does your list say how handsome you are?” he asks.
“Okay, get off me,” Rex pushes Cody, and when that doesn’t work, slaps his ass hard enough to have Sweet Thing snarling at the mistreatment of her person. It just makes Cody laugh and steal another kiss before standing and stretching. Rex notices him paying particular attention to his knee but doesn’t say anything — he’ll save that for when Cody’s complaining tomorrow.
Rex shoves the slightly damp list into his pocket. “We’re never talking about this again. It happened, and it was funny and it’s going with those other funny stories we don’t talk about.”
Cody raises his eyebrows, as if Rex can’t also play dirty. “You mean like—”
“Yeah, Cody I mean like that time you—”
“Acknowledged, Captain,” Cody says quickly, and that bastard doesn’t blush as readily as Rex but there’s a definite uncomfortable shift.
It’s for the best they’ve fully committed to each other, the fallout if they wanted to be petty would be catastrophic.
“I’m going to go and see what else your beast has gotten into.” Rex climbs to his feet, and lets Cody steal another kiss as he passes.
“She didn’t mean it, did you, Sweet Thing?” Cody says as Rex reaches the door.
Rex spares them both a glance over his shoulder. Sweet Thing, smugly back in Cody’s arms, looks very much like she meant it.
—
Sweet Thing scrambles up the steps by the bed, her claws clattering against the wood as she goes. Cody makes a good point about the state of them, she’s torn deep grooves into the wood over the years, not even acknowledging the parts around the base she’s sat and chewed on. She sits on Rex’s side of the bed and watches them both amble around getting ready for bed. Rex lets Cody get in first, waiting until he’s scooped her back over onto his side before getting in himself.
It’s too late to get into a fight with a crazed animal.
Cody ruffles her ears and she settles into the crook of his arm, wheezing loudly as she gets comfortable. Cody meticulously tucks the blankets in around her.
Rex flicks off the light and plunges them both into darkness. Cody breathes slow and steady, Sweet Thing rasps. Rex stares up at the ceiling.
He looks over at Cody’s back.
“Cody,” he says rolling on to his side, shuffling over to Cody. “Put her out.”
“She’s already mostly asleep,” Cody says.
Rex moves even closer, pressing himself up against Cody, looping a hand over his waist to reach between Cody’s legs. “Put her out.”
Cody twists to look at Rex, lip curling up in a way that assures Rex victory.
“Give me five minutes,” Cody says. Sweet Thing whines piercingly when Cody disturbs her, but for once Cody doesn’t bend to her whims.
“Come on, darling, let's get you to the living room,” Cody says, padding out of the room with the sithspawn in his arms. A light goes on across the house, the light just visible where it reaches the hallway.
Rex waits.
He waits some more.
He’s going to fucking kill Cody.
The bedroom door clicks shut, rousing Rex from the doze he’d settled into. He shoves himself upright, glaring at the love of his life.
“What was that?” he demands.
“I was getting her settled,” Cody says, hefting up the chair from the corner and wedging it in front of the door.
“Thirty minutes, Cody.”
“Do you want her to interrupt?” Cody asks, slipping back under the covers. “She’s watching cartoons, she’ll be distracted for a while.”
“You’re so lucky I find you as attractive as I do,” Rex tells him, and pulls Cody on top of him, slipping his hands up under Cody’s shirt. Cody smirks down at him, expression dizzyingly familiar despite the lines added in the years that have passed since the first time Rex saw it.
Rex drags Cody down, arms around his neck, mouth over that obnoxious perfect smile.
Cody’s right. Rex really doesn’t want Sweet Thing to interrupt.
They’re naked and sweaty, sheets pooled around their waists. Rex basks in it.
“Cody,” Rex says into his pillow, relaxed and warm and comfortable; Cody’s flopped half over his back. “If you get up to let that creature in, we're not having sex for a month.”
There’s a loud silence but Cody also doesn’t move, even putting his lips to Rex’s shoulder. Rex laughs, and pulls on whichever part of Cody is nearer until Cody attempts the impossible and tries to nuzzle closer. The contact is nice, all of it, but there’s little things, the way Cody’s stubble drags over his back, the loose curl of Cody’s fingers against his side, the leg flung over Rex’s. Rex fought a long time for just this.
There’s scratching at the door. Cody tenses.
Rex should have suggested they get a fish.
To Cody’s credit, he doesn’t move, but Sweet Thing has sucked all the lazy relaxed energy from the room.
“She’ll settle,” Cody says, but he doesn’t seem convinced. Rex appreciates that he’s not jumping to his feet to check on his darling baby girl though; it’s nice to know his dick is worth that at least.
Sweet Thing whines, then whimpers, and then starts scratching again.
Rex fumbles for another pillow to put over his head. Cody shifts. Sweet Thing cries.
Rex snarls the foulest curses he knows from a lifetime of army life into his pillow and heaves himself out of bed, letting Cody roll onto his back. Rex stomps across the room and yanks open the door.
Sweet Thing stares accusingly up at him, strands of their carpet in her mouth, trembling so aggressively she’s vibrating.
“Your royal highness,” Rex says, stepping out of her way with a mocking bow.
She trots past Rex, her trauma immediately forgotten, and clambers back onto the bed and into Cody’s waiting arms. It would be so much easier if Sweet Thing didn’t make him so genuinely happy.
“You’re a dick,” Rex tells her and she’s too busy slobbering over Cody’s face to notice. He flops back into the bed, but this time refuses to let her capitalise on all of Cody’s attention, claiming his own spot on Cody’s other side.
She can damn well share.
Sweet Thing glares at him, but Cody is already wrapping her in blankets again, and the tight cocoon is shockingly effective in putting her to sleep.
“Don’t tell her,” Cody says conspiratorially, “but you’re my favourite.”
“I don’t know if I believe that,” Rex says, and returns Cody’s smile, before resting his head back on Cody’s chest. His heart thumps under Rex’s ear and it’s soothing enough that Rex feels himself slipping back into some of the post sex bliss that Sweet Thing interrupted.
Her breath stinks this close, but Cody wraps his free arm around Rex and it’s hard to complain about that.
And Cody’s happy, so it’s worth it.
Probably.
