Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rex, like all his vode, had been raised to be the perfect soldier. Anything that was less than perfect had been unacceptable on Kamino, as had being different. Every clone knew that not being an exact copy of their DNA-donor would most likely result in being decommissioned, even if the genetic mutations were out of their control.

Keeping that in mind, CT-7567 had come out of his tube with blond hair. He knew that was a problem as soon as he knew how to think, and so he had kept his head down, had followed every order the trainers had given without complaint. He had worked twice as hard as any of batchmates and had still gone to sleep afraid that he wouldn't see the next morning.

And then he'd met CC-2224, or "Cody" as the older clone said to call him when no trainers or Kaminoans were around. Cody, who had a name, even though they weren't supposed to have enough of a brain to want something like that and had been trained by Prime himself. Cody, whose batchmate CC-1010 - "Fox" - was defective, with two strikes of his hair near his temples being silver, and still had been trained by one of the Alphas to become a commander.

Cody, who had let Rex crawl into his bed when he was too scared to fall asleep and had whispered reassurances in Mando'a to him.

In the end, it had been no big surprise to anyone that Cody had been the one who had given Rex the idea for his name.

("You know what your hair reminds me of, vod'ika?"

"Of how defective I am?"

"Of a king's golden crown. You'd certainly have the guts to lead a people.")

Another thing that came to no one's surprise but his own was Rex's promotion to Captain. He would never have thought it possible for a clone with a genetic modification as obvious as his to even be considered for such a position.

And yet here he was, in one of the giant hangars on Kamino, an entire battalion behind him, awaiting the arrival of the man that was to be their general.

"Anakin Skywalker" was the name that had been written on the file Rex had received, a holo of a young, handsome - as far as Rex could be the judge of that - man with dark blond, almost brown hair beneath it. It was the same man he had been in the LAAT/i with, right before he and the Senator had fallen out of it. Not that he expected the Jedi to remember that, let alone recognize Rex. He was just another clone amongst millions of others.

He'd heard some rumors about Skywalker from Cody, how he apparently used to be the apprentice of Cody's general - ("They call them 'Padawans', Rex'ika, it's a bit weird.") - and how he lost his arm to Count Dooku, former Jedi and now a Seperatist, in a lightsaber battle. Cody had also told him that Skywalker's new prosthetic could shoot lasers out of it but Rex was like 99 percent sure that was just his ori'vod fucking with him.

Safe to say, Rex was excited - and a bit anxious - to meet Anakin Skywalker properly.

The door to the hangar opened and Rex snapped a crisp salute to the man entering it, calling out "Attention, troopers" to the 501st and was silently pleased as he heard the sound of the soldiers behind him saluting as well.

General Skywalker came to a halt in front of Rex, an easy smile on his lips and Rex shoved the way his heart skipped a beat into the deepest corners of his mind to pick apart later, or - even better - never think about again.

"I take it you're my second in command?" His voice was kind and he looked right through the visor of Rex's helmet and into his eyes as he held out his right hand - the one that could supposely function as a blaster - for Rex to shake.

Rex was caught slightly off guard but quickly got his shit together and shook the general's hand. "CT-7567, at your service, sir."

General Skywalker's smile faltered as Rex introduced himself and he silently congratulated himself on the fact that he'd managed to piss off his general in the first minute of knowing him. It's almost like you want to give him another reason to send you to decommissioning, you fucking di'kut.

"Good to meet you, Captain," the general said and his smile looked like it had never even wavered in the first place.

Rex dully noted that General Skywalker seemed to avoid his designation and made a note to himself somewhere in his mind to refrain from using it in the future. Maybe he didn't want to be reminded of the fact that he had to work with a battalion made out of clones, not people. Rex couldn't really blame the Jedi.

____________________

Anakin, no matter what he had told Obi-Wan, was neither ready nor qualified to lead a battalion. He had no idea how to fight a war or how to lead a group of people. His knighting had been more out of necessity than anything else and his new prosthetic arm was still unfamiliar to him.

(He was a bit disappointed that it couldn't actually shoot laser like he and his Master had joked about.)

Walking into the hangar where his captain and the rest of the 501st would meet him had felt a bit like a fever dream, too many people in the room for it to be realistic and all movements made by them way too artificial.

Then again, Geonosis had also felt like a fever dream and he carried enough scars from it for there to be no doubt that it had been very real.

Anakin had tried his best to maintain a friendly aura, putting on a kind smile that, in his own opinion, looked too relaxed to not be fake. And despite his attempts, his mask had still cracked as his captain had introduced himself with a number, not a name. It reminded him too much of Tatooine, too much of the mechanical way the Slaves had listed of the names their masters had chosen for them instead of their own ones.

He had felt it in the Force when his captain - he would rather be buried alive than call him CT-7567 - had seen his smile falter and had instantly felt guilty for making the man worry.

A few weeks had passed since then and Anakin still felt like an impostor. He had decorated his room on the Resolute as much as he could, had gotten a bit more used to the terrible food they served in the mess hall, and had avoided calling any of the troopers by a string of letters and numbers.

During said weeks, Anakin had also realized that most troopers usually took of their helmet when not on active duty. His captain did not.

Anakin didn't know if he was just uncomfortable with eye contact or something like that and he wasn't about to force him to show Anakin his face but he couldn't help but be curious. Which was stupid because his captain was a clone like all the other troopers and would share the same face as all the other members of the 501st.

He didn't need different faces to tell them apart anyway. The Clones all felt different in the Force and Anakin had known how to read someone's signature in the Force before he had even known what the Force was. It had been a quite useful skill back on Tatooine.

Thinking about Tatooine made Anakin think about the similarities between the Slaves and the Clones again. He was pretty sure none of the people on this ship - including him - had had a say in whether or not they wanted to fight for the Republic. By the Force, fighting for the Republic was what the Clones had been created for. Anakin still didn't know how to feel about that.

What he did know was that your name was one of the most precious things you could own as a Slave and he was beginning to think that it was much the same for the Clones. Or at least he couldn't imagine that they all referred to each other with serial numbers.

And so, Anakin had made a decision: He was going to figure his captain's name out. And the best way to do that was by asking the man himself.

Anakin had learned that his captain spent most of his time on the bridge, overlooking the people working there. Privately, Anakin liked to think his captain also occasionally watched the stars, even if that was maybe just his mind trying to make the man seem more human.

"Commander on deck!" was the first thing Anakin heard as he set foot on the bridge.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to salute him and no matter how often they did that, Anakin still found it incredibly weird, even if it was military protocol.

"At ease, everyone," Anakin said and approached his captain while the others continued on with their jobs. He didn't actually know what all of them did but he was sure it was very important.

His captain stood with his back as straight as ever, one hand holding the other at the wrist behind his back. His helmet was on - as always - and his armor polished.

"General," he greeted Anakin as soon as the Jedi was in what Anakin assumed was an acceptable distance to start a conversation, and Anakin gave him a nod. "How can I help you, sir?"

"I have a question, Captain," Anakin started and then paused, thinking of how to phrase his next words before deciding to just rip the bandaid off. "Do you have a name ?"

Somehow, his captain's posture straightened out even more and Anakin could have sworn that there were suddenly more ears listening that had originally been planned for this conversation. "My designations is CT-7567, sir."

"No, I know that," Anakin said and ignored the spike of surprise he could feel in the Force coming off of his captain. "But I asked if you had a name. Like, my name is Anakin, you know?"

What followed was the most pregnant pause Anakin had ever heard. His captain's parade rest had turned stiff and Anakin half regretted asking in the first place if he weren't so sure he would combust if he had to keep on just calling him "Captain" in his mind.

"Rex," his captain finally decided on saying. "My name is Rex, sir."

Anakin smiled at him and this time, it didn't feel faked. "Good to meet you, Rex."

Chapter Text

After that conversation on the bridge, more and more troopers came to Anakin to let him know their names. Anakin made sure to send all of them a brilliant smile, seeing as most of them were terribly anxious when they did it. He could sort of get that, even if the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. However, it was nice to finally have names to put to the different Force signatures around him.

Most of the Clones seemed more amazed by the fact that he actually remembered their names and used them than that he asked in the first place.

And because Anakin Skywalker was Anakin Skywalker, he was curious. He wanted to know why they found it so surprising that he cared about their names, why they looked like deers caught in headlights whenever they were talking to each other about something other than duty and he walked by, wanted to know why Rex never took off his helmet.

The part of his mind that was still the little boy from Tatooine and was constantly drawing parallels screamed at him that he knew exactly why, even if Anakin still didn't want that to be true. There were just too many hints for it to be a lie.

But even Anakin, who had won an award for being the most insensitive Padawan - whose voting had been totally rigged, by the way, because there was no way he would have won that under normal circumstances, thank you very much -, knew that it probably wasn't the best idea to walk up to someone and ask them Hey, are you a slave?, even if that would give him the most straightforward answer to his questions. If anything, it would possibly be seen as rude, and Anakin kind of wanted the 501st to like him because they actually did, not because some protocol told them to.

So, Anakin did what he always did when he faced a problem that he couldn't immediately solve on his own.

Obi-Wan let his commlink ring three times before he picked up. "You are aware that it's the middle of the night where the 212th and I are at the moment, right, Anakin?" he asked, sounding still half asleep. The video finally connected and an imagine of Anakin's former Master with the worst bedhead Anakin had ever seen appeared.

Anakin wasn't about to tell Obi-Wan that it was the middle of the night for him too, that he couldn't sleep because everytime he closed his eyes, his thoughts went absolutely haywire. Instead, he shot him a grin and said "Terribly sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep."

Obi-Wan scoffed and mumbled something under his breath that sounded like That's what you get for spending ten years of your life looking out for someone. He ran a hand through his hair which somehow only made it look worse. "What do you need, Anakin?"

"Whaaaaat? Who said I need anything? Can't I just call my favorite Jedi so we can catch up with each other?"

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Not in the middle of the night, no." His expression turned softer, almost worried, and Anakin once again despised how his former Master could read him like an open book. "What's wrong?"

Anakin let out a long sigh and slumped over his desk, laying his chin on his forearms. "Your commander."

"Cody? What about him?"

The fingers of Anakin right hand began to tap out a rhythm as he thought about what to say, the sound of metal hitting wood dampened by his thick leather glove. "When you first met him, how did he introduce himself?"

"Oh," Obi-Wan said and his voice sounded a bit sad. "That's what's on your mind."

"Yeah. Oh."

A heavy silence hung in the air and Anakin realized that this was one of the few moments in his life he had ever seen the other at a loss for words. Obi-Wan always knew what to say, his talent of knowing exactly how to use his words having earned him the nickname Negotiator. The only other time he had been this quiet had been when he and Anakin had sat on the couch in their living quarters and Anakin had told him about Mom and his childhood on Tatooine.

In a way, this silence already confirmed what Anakin had thought.

"What do you want me to tell you?" Obi-Wan finally asked, quietly, as if speaking louder would make Anakin shatter. He couldn't decide whether should appreciate that or be mad that Obi-Wan still felt like he had to walk around him on eggshells when talking about that specific topic.

Anakin shrugged as best as he could in his postition. "That it's true? That it isn't?" Anakin said just as quiet, something bitter in his voice.

"Your asking questions you already know the answers to, dear one."

And Anakin -

Anakin, honest to the Force, wanted to start crying. He wanted to scream about how unfair all of this was, wanted to know how the Republic and the Order could something like that just happen. He wanted to be back at the Temple where he could pretend the galaxy wasn't as bad as it truly was. But most of all, Anakin wanted a hug. From Obi-Wan, his Mom, he'd even take one from Mace fucking Windu, he just needed someone to hold him and tell him everything would be alright.

He knew that Jedi weren't supposed to want or need comfort like that. They should release their emotions, no matter good or bad, into the Force so they could focus on helping other people. But Anakin had never been very good at controlling his feelings, had always felt way too strongly about things and Obi-Wan used to tell him that was good, that it was importand for a Jedi to be empathetic. Obi-Wan had never told him that loving as hard as Anakin did was bad, just helped him when he somehow got hurt by it, be it physically or emotionally.

(Obi-Wan had been scared that the Council would tell Anakin he couldn't be a Jedi and he hadn't wanted that poor boy, that had already lived through more horrors that any child his age should have, to live through another heartbreak.)

"I'm sorry, Anakin," Obi-Wan told him now, lightyears away from him, only seen through the shitty hologram the commlink produced.

Anakin silently noted that there was something wet running down his cheeks but made no move to wipe the tears away. His voice cracked as he spoke up again. "What do we do, then? Why does no one care about this?"

"Oh, Anakin, I promise you they do care. Jedi Master Shaak Ti is currently on Kamino and overlooks what happens in the training facilities. Senators Amidala, Organa, Chuchi, and Mothma are trying to get a bill for Clone Rights on the Senate floor. We are doing something."

Anakin paused as he processed Obi-Wan's words. That was good! There was something happening and -

"What do I do, Obi-Wan?" His voice was a mere whisper and Anakin wasn't even sure Obi-Wan had heard him until the other inhaled a sharp breath.

Obi-Wan's face in the hologram looked worried and Anakin kind of hated himself for making his former Master worry about Anakin's incompetence in being a Jedi once again. Surely if he were a better Jedi, he would figure the answer to that question out on his own and wouldn't have to bother someone else with it.

"Anakin, no one expects you to remedy all injustice in the Universe by yourself," Obi-Wan said.

"But I'm a Jedi," Anakin shot back, sounding a bit desperate.

"So am I," Obi-Wan said and sent him an encouraging smile. "You don't see me doing that either, do you?"

And Obi-Wan couldn't mean that because he was Obi-Wan, freshly appointed Jedi Master who had a seat on the Council, the perfect Jedi and he was putting himself down to Anakin's level and that wasn't right.

"You're job right now is to protect the citizens of the Republic against the Seperatists and to make sure the 501st does their best at doing just that," Obi-Wan continued, giving Anakin no chance to say something. "We may not be able to change anything about how the Clones were raised but we can do something about how they live the rest of their lives. We can't know how many of them are going to make it out of this way but we can do our best to make sure as many of them as possible do and we can do our best to make their lives, no matter how long they are, something good, even if we are fighting a war. You just have to keep on being friendly and kind and I guarantee you that everything will be just fine, okay?"

Anakin stared at Obi-Wan and nodded. Something in his chest felt kind of weird but he also felt a lot better than he had before the conversation. "Okay," he breathed and allowed himself to smile back at him.

Obi-Wan carried an expression of fondness that was only broken by a yawn. "Next time you need to have an existential crisis, please do that when it's not the middle of the night," he chuckled and Anakin found himself laughing as well.

"I'll try," Anakin said, a grin on his face.

Obi-Wan's smile turned a bit more serious again as he looked into his former Padawan's eyes. "That is more than enough."

And Anakin, for the first time since this whole disaster had started, felt like he could handle all of this.

____________________

Serving under General Skywalker wasn't really like Jesse had imagined it was going to be. Which was a good thing because Jesse had imagined a general as strict and stone faced as the trainers on Kamino, just waiting for someone to step out of line to send them to be decommissioned. Or, a praised new invention by the Kaminoans, to be reconditioned, something that was even worse than decommissioning, according to one of Jesse's vode whose batchmate had been sent to reconditioning. Said batchmate had come back as stoic as a droid, not even remembering his name and listing off the regs at any given moment.

No, Skywalker was good in a way Jesse had never even dared dreaming of. He learned all their names and never once confused them with each other and in general (Good one, Jesse.) acted like he didn't even know sending them back to Kamino was an option, no matter how much osik they did. And yes, maybe his battle plans needed a bit of improvement but at the end of the day, the casualty numbers were always minimal, so Jesse could cut the man some slack.

It was after another battle with one of General Skywalker's (idiotic) plans that mysteriously hadn't backfired on them, that Jesse found himself sitting in the mess hall of the Resolute with Kix and Appo, trying to force down the slime the GAR described as military rations.

Kix was bitching on about how no one on this ship seemed to understand that No, me telling you to stay in this kriffing medbay isn't just something I say for shits and giggles and some part of Jesse's brain told him he should feel a bit guilty because he just so happened to be a part of the FME™ - Frequent Medbay Escapers. At least he wasn't as bad as Rex who wouldn't see a medic if his head fell off.

He was halfway done with his dinner when General Skywalker entered the mess hall in all his Jedi glory, his lightsaber hanging from his belt as usual, and grabbed a tray to get himself some "food". No one seemed to care enough to snap to attention, all too busy with getting something in their stomachs. Skywalker didn't look like he cared about it, or, at least, didn't call anyone out on it.

Kix stopped his ramblings to eye the general. Then, he turned to Jesse and said, with a mischievous grin, "I'll give you my ration bars for this week if you have the guts to ask the General to sit with us."

"Come on, Kix, be sensible," Appo said. "Why would the General want to sit with us?"

Kix raised an exebrow at his vod. "Rex sits with us, and he's a captain. Why wouldn't the General?"

"You know damn well that's different," Appo shot back and continued to eat whatever the stuff on his plate was. Looked like he enjoyed it too, that shabuir.

Well, Jesse wasn't about to say no to free extra ration bars. "Deal," he told Kix and stood up from their table, ignoring Appo's alarmed "Jesse!" in favor of approaching the General who had just finished filling his tray.

Skywalker gave him a smile and a nod as Jesse came to a stop in front of him. "Jesse."

Jesse nodded back. "General. Care to join us for dinner, sir?"

One of his eyebrows shot up and his smile got wider. "I certainly wouldn't mind the company."

Jesse grinned and led the General back to his table, hearing Appo mutter something under his breath along the lines of Crazy motherfucker.

Skywalker sat down between him and Kix, greeting both the medic and Appo with the same charming smile he had greeted Jesse with before sticking his fork into the pile of grey goop on his plate and eyeing it distrustful. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this stuff. How the fuck can you guys eat that?"

The question was obviously aimed at Appo who had just finished his portion. He shrugged. "I guess there's worse stuff out there, sir."

Kix and Jesse nodded in agreement.

"Like that osik we got back on Kamino," Jesse said. His vode chuckled at that but the General's smile slipped off his face and Jesse regreted saying anything in the first place.

The tension in the air fled as none other than Captain Rex put his tray down on the table, sitting next to Appo and slamming his armored head onto it, the plastoid making a Clank sound as it hit the table top.

"Tough day, Rex'ika?" Appo asked with an amused grin on his face.

"Shut it, vod," Rex grumbled back.

Skywalker let out a low whistle. "Wow. Didn't know you had that kind of language in you, Rex."

Jesse had never seen someone sit up as fast as Rex had the moment he'd heard the General's voice.

"Sorry, sir. Didn't see you there," Rex said a bit too fast for it to appear natural.

Skywalker just chuckled. "Don't worry. I'm sure you had a very hard day. That thing you pulled with the droids today was really cool, by the way."

Another thing Jesse had never seen before was the way Rex seemed at a loss for words. He just sat there, staring at the General, his back so perfectly straight Jesse was afraid his spine would break from all the tension. That probably wasn't how that worked but Kix was the medic here, not him.

Finally, Rex spoke up again, quieter than usually. "Thank you, sir."

Then he took off his helmet, put it down on the bench next to him and began eating his share of goo.

Jesse saw his eyes flicker to Skywalker's face a few times throughout dinner. He didn't know if Rex found what he was looking for there but by the time all of them were finished, his posture had relaxed.

Chapter Text

Rex had blond hair. And General Skywalker had seen it. And Rex had not been sent back to Kamino.

Not for the first time since the 501st had been assigned to Skywalker, Rex thought that natborns were fucking weird.

On Kamino, there had been so many rules all of them had had to follow all the time and then a Jedi had come and had decided to throw all these rules overboard. Not even in just a metaphysical sense, no, Rex had seen the General throw a holopad with GAR regulations into a trash can once.

One of the troopers had taken a holo of it that Rex was pretty sure was now hung up in the barracks.

So, after some time, Rex began to be a bit more relaxed. He approved some of the requests from the troopers for stuff that wasn't actually needed on the Resolute, that was only wanted for fun. What a weird concept.

In a way, Rex was testing out how far he could go before General Skywalker would decide he had enough. It probably was stupid but for once in his life, Rex wanted to take a chance.

Only the General didn't make them stop.

Vode started to dye their hair in all colors anyone could think of and painted their armor in what was established amongst them as 501st blue. They even rearranged the barracks to open up something like a private tattoo station with two troopers named Ink and Sketch running it and Rex kept expecting something bad to happen.

But Skywalker didn't seem to care, just continued smiling that stupidly handsome smile at them that had begun to make something in Rex's chest flutter in a way that was anything but professional every time he saw it.

Eventually, after lots of persuading from mainly Jesse and a shiny called Hardcase that Jesse and Kix had basically adopted, Rex caved in and painted a design on his armor as well. The jaig eyes were perhaps a bit too over the top but at least he hadn't drawn a dick, like Mixer had planned on doing at first.

The first time he wore his new armor, the General did a double take. It wasn't very noticeable and Rex would have missed it if he hadn't been trained to notice small changes in his surroundings.

Skywalker's eyes flickered from his armor to his helmet that he held under his arm before he went back to listening to High General Windu explain something about their next deployment, one corner of his mouth turned upwards slightly.

After the meeting was finished, Rex took his usual place on the bridge, General Skywalker following him with a datapad in hand to do whatever Jedi did with datapads.

That was another thing that had started recently: Skywalker would just randomly seek out the company of the vode. He wouldn't even ask them any questions or something like that, just hang around somewhere near them and do his own thing.

After a while spent in silence that was surprisingly comfortable, Skywalker spoke up. "Why blue?"

Rex turned to face him, a puzzled expression on his face. "Sir?"

"Your armor," Skywalker responded and nodded towards his helmet. "Any trooper of the 501st I've seen with painted armor painted it in the same shade of blue. Why?"

Rex didn't know that actually but that probably wasn't the best answer he could give. "Is there something wrong with it?" he asked instead, carefully.

"No, of course not. Lots of great things are blue, like... my lightsaber, or R2, or... other great things...," Skywalker trailed off, his voice growing quieter. His eyes - that were blue as well, Rex noted - flashed over Rex's armor again before he turned his head away to look out at the blurred stars in hyperspace. "It looks good on you," he finally said, almost whispered.

Rex blinked. Then it hit him that the General probably meant entire 501st, not just Rex. Why would he? Rex was just another clone. "Blue's a good color," he decided on saying figuring he couldn't go wrong with that.

Before he could make a bigger fool of himself, their conversation was interrupted by the blue R2-unit Skywalker had mentioned. He came rolling towards the General, beeping furiously and Rex made another note to himself that he needed to learn Binary.

Skywalker sighed at whatever the droid had said and turned off his datapad. "I'll see you later, Rex," he said and sent him a smile while walking off.

Rex watching him go before realizing that was another pretty unprofessional thing to do and going back to overlooking his vode's work.

____________________

"It looks good on you? What was that supposed to mean?"

R2 beeped Friend: Ani = fucking idiot back at him.

Anakin scoffed. "If I'm an idiot, why are you always coming to me when you have a problem?"

Friend: Ani = only one who can fix me

"Oh?" Anakin raised an eybrow at the droid. "So the only reason you stick with me is because I'm your private repair-guy?"

Assumption = correct R2 beeped in a tone that was way too sarcastic for a droid.

Anakin just rolled his eyes before focusing back on detangling the wires in R2's open control panel. "How did you even manage to fuck it up this bad?" He let out a curse in Huttese as the astromech gave him an electroshock in return. "Okay, I'm sorry. You need to calm down, man."

Designation: R2-D2 = always calm

"Right, and I'm the Queen of Naboo," Anakin mumbled and pulled his hands back just fast enough to avoid being shocked a second time.

____________________

Their assignment went off without a hitch, the only casualties being Kix and the other medics' braincells from having to tend to a bunch of di'kutla vode.

The Seperatist outpost had mostly contained crates with weapons or droid parts and the the few cankers that had been there to protect them had been quickly wiped out. Rex had personally though it went almost too smooth and had only let his guard down once they had boarded the Resolute.

Now, Rex was sitting on his bunk in the room in the baracks that he shared with nine other troopers - including Jesse and Hardcase who currently had some sort of wrestling match only the two of them knew the rules to going on -, his armor neatly stacked beside it safe for his helmet, which was resting in his lap so he could properly clean it.

Someone - most likely Disco - had put on music from a playlist called lofi study beats and while Rex wasn't sure what that meant, he found the music calming.

(It would be even more calming if Jesse and Hardcase would stop rolling around on the floor but you couldn't win them all.)

The room's door opened and in came - what a kriffing surprise - General Skywalker.

Rex immediately stood up, hitting his head on the bed above his and heard Mixer laugh at him for it. He almost smacked him in the face for it but stopped himself from actually doing it, figuring the General wouldn't appreciate it very much.

Skywalker approached him, elegantly sidestepping Jesse and Hardcase when they rolled in his way. They hesitated when they saw him but then Skywalker grinned at them and the wrestling match continued.

"General," Rex greeted him and silently prayed to whatever gods would listen to him that Skywalker hadn't seen him hit his head.

Of course, nobody listened.

"Is your head okay?" the General asked, his voice sounding a bit amused and Rex found himself being grateful that Jango Fett's genetics stopped him from blushing overly noticeably.

"My head is fine, sir," Rex said.

"No need to call me 'sir' when we're both off-duty," Skywalker chuckled. "Can I talk to you about something for a second?"

"Of course." Rex looked around a bit helplessly before gesturing to his bunk. Skywalker snorted out a laugh but sat down on it, crossing his legs beneath himself. Rex copied his movements.

When both of them had made themselves comfortable, Skywalker spoke up again. "What do you think about a movie night, Rex?"

"A... movie night?" Rex carefully asked. Why did the General want to have a movie night? He mentally shook his head, reminding himself that it wasn't his place to question his superiors. Maybe he wanted to show them something about battle tactics.

"Yeah, for all troopers of the 501st who want to have one," Skywalker responded. Nothing about battle tactics then. It wouldn't make sense to not show that to all of them. "We could watch, I don't know, the Muppets Movie or something."

"The Muppets Movie," Rex repeated after him. This conversation was getting weirder and weirder.

"Or something else," Skywalker quickly said. "That was just the first thing that came to my mind."

Rex stared at him with an expression that probably made him look very stupid. "Like a team bonding activity?" is what he settled on asking in the end.

Skywalker's face lit up. "Yeah, exactly. So? What do you say?"

It's certainly not the stupidest idea you've ever had Rex thought but because he wouldn't ever dare say something like that to his commanding officer, he said "It could be nice."

Somehow, Skywalker's smile turned even brighter. "Do you think Benduday works? There's enough time to set something up until then and we don't have another deployment until next Taungsday."

"Yeah, Benduday's good." Rex wasn't really sure to what he had just agreed. All he knew is that it made the General happy, so it probably was going to be something good.

Clearly pleased with the outcome of this conversation - though Rex didn't know why Skywalker had wanted his opinion in the first place -, the Jedi let his eyes wander to Jesse and Hardcase who still weren't done fighting each other. "Who do you think is gonna win?" Skywalker asked him.

Rex followed his gaze. "Jesse," he said after contemplating for a while. When Skywalker raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to elaborate, he continued. "They're both good fighters but Jesse has more experience and Hardcase often lets his defenses down in favor of launching more aggressive attacks."

Skywalker hummed in agreement. "I can see why they made you a captain."

"I don't think you need special observation skills to see that Hardcase is an Actions first, Questions later kind of guy."

"But he's got his priorities straight. He's a good soldier."

Rex's eyes flickered to Skywalker's face only to find the man still watching Rex's vode intensely. "Yeah, he is," Rex said and turned his head back just in time to see Jesse pin Hardcase to the ground.

Chapter Text

They did have a movie night.

It was one of the weirdest things Skywalker had ever done, including doing random handstands and selling it off as the Force telling him to meditate.

One of the storage rooms of the Resolute had been redecorated to hold one of those projector-curtain things Rex didn't know the actual name of and a bunch of comfortable looking couches and pillows.

Rex carefully sat down on one of the couches. He had left his armor in the barracks, showing up in only his blacks. Nobody sat on the couch with him, but a few of the shinies did sit down on a giant pillow in front of him.

More and more brothers filled the room and eventually, the General also entered. He didn't even hesitate before plopping down next to Rex, pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms around them. Rex thought it made him look a lot more harmless than he actually was.

Skywalker's astromech made some beeping sound from near the entrance of the room and then the lights turned off and a holoprojector flickered to life, projecting the image of a blue screen onto the wall.

Rex sent the General a questioning look but quickly turned back towards the screen as it changed to a shot of a mansion with two black dogs running in front of it in slow-motion. What Rex though were violins and other instruments played in the background.

Then, the scene switched to a red door with papers hanging on it. A woman opened the door, carrying a tray with tea. The camera turned to show a man lying on a couch with a slit throat. Rex shot another look to Skywalker who was completely engrossed in the movie.

When Rex's gaze settled onto the screen again, a black background with the words Knives Out in white letters appeared.

Guess they weren't watching that Muppet Movie after all.

As the movie progressed, Rex found himself enjoying it. He appreciated people that actually used their brain, and Benoit Blanc seemed like he was one of them.

The next time he looked at the General, he was fast asleep, leaning against the couch arm with his legs still pressed to his chest.

Rex thought he looked kind of beautiful.

____________________

Kix's nerves were already laid bare when Rex burst into the medical tent to ask whether or not the General was alright.

Their campaign had been going fairly well. None of the tents had been damaged during transport, setting up camp here had been easy enough, and most of the vode had actually been acting like grown-ups.

For once in Kix's life, everything was good.

That was until a group of Seperatist battle droids had attacked the camp they'd set up, landing lots of unprepared vode in the medics' care with almost none of them actually listening to medical orders. Kix, as the head medic of the 501st, had then finally decided to put his foot down, announcing he would not be afraid to sedate any troopers that gave them any trouble at all. That statement had at least brought some order to their tent.

And because the Universe kriffing despised Kix, not long after everyone had settled down, Skywalker himself had entered the medical tent. There had been a deep slash near his right eye, leaking blood into his eye and down his cheek. Some of the blood had already started to clot and Kix had silently asked himself why nobody in the entire 501st properly cared about their health.

Kix had cleaned away the blood from around the actual wound and had then stuck a bacta patch onto it, ordering the General to lie down on one of the cots until his head would stop "feeling like a herd of banthas held a dance off inside his skull" (direct quote from Skywalker).

All of this had led Kix to where he was right now: Standing in front of one Captain Rex who had his helmet held in one hand and one of his two blosters still in the other one.

If he had been any less irritated, Kix would have probably made fun of him for actually showing his shebs in a fifty miles distance to medical equipment. As it was, though, Kix was way too tired to deal with any of his brothers' osik.

"Yes, Captain?" the medic asked, showing off his resting bitch face as best as he could.

"Sketch told me the General was injured," Rex said, looking the most anxious Kix had ever seen. "Is he okay?"

Kix heaved a sigh. "He's fine."

Rex stared at him as if he waited for him to elaborate. When he realized Kix wouldn't, he continued. "What happened to him?"

"I'm legally not allowed to give out any information about my patients, not even to you," Kix shot back. "You can ask him personally later. For now, though, I'm gonna tell you what I told all the other guys too: Stop getting on my kriffing nerves before I jam a needle into your neck." The fucking di'kut just kept on looking at him, so Kix sighed again. "Rex, get the the fuck out of my medbay."

"It's a tent," Rex said.

Kix pulled out a syringe.

Rex left.

_____________________

If anything, the wound in Anakin's face was really his own fault.

He should have reacted faster, should have ducked faster, should have taken the battle droid out faster, faster, faster.

Most of all, he should have been able to feel the attack in the Force before it had happened.

But he hadn't.

He hadn't, and because of that the 501st had lost good men. They had been caught of guard, assuming it was safe for them to take off their armor. After all, their camp had been set up somewhere relatively safe.

And Anakin hadn't sensed anything wrong at all until the first battle droids had fired their blasters and he had been too late to warn anyone.

Jedi weren't supposed to dwell in the past, but that was another thing Anakin had never been good at doing.

The fact that his head felt like a herd of banthas was holding a dance off inside his skull didn't help his situation either.

His head medic, Kix, approached the cot he was sitting on. "How are you feeling, sir?" he asked, sporting that same medical professional expression that Obi-Wan's friend Bant had always had when Anakin had injured himself as a Padawan. It was a bit weird to see it on anyone else but her.

In reality, Anakin was doing terrible. His head felt like it had been split in half, the bacta patch next to his eye itched like hell, and his back hurt because he still wasn't used to the bunks on the Resolute that the GAR called beds. And his was one of the better ones.

But Anakin was going to go insane if he had to sit in this tent and do nothing any longer, and bullshitting his way out of situations he didn't want to be in was fortunately one of the few things he was good at. Or at least nobody had ever told him he wasn't.

"Never been better, Kix," he said, lying straight through his teeth with what he hoped was a charming grin on his face.

Kix raised an eyebrow at that. "Really?" His voice reminded Anakin of Obi-Wan's whenever he had pulled something stupid that his Master had already known about and Anakin had been trying to act like nothing had happened.

"Yep," he responded, trying to push a bit of persuasion into the word with the Force.

Anakin didn't know if it was the Force or Kix being too emotionally drained to argue with anyone, but Kix just sighed and told him to take it easy before walking off to check on his next patient.

Anakin fled the medical tent before he could change his mind.

Not even two minutes later, Rex appeared at his side, a datapad whose screen showed some sort of statistics Anakin was way too exhausted to even try to understand.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to face the man properly. "What have you got for me, Rex?"

Rex cleared his throat. "We've cleaned up the camp a bit, sir," he said. "Torrent Company's tent is completely unrepairable, Wave and Petrol's partially damaged. There's still a bunch of troopers that don't have a place to sleep for tonight."

Anakin innerly let out a sigh. He sat down on a flat rock on the ground and crossed his legs beneath him. "I'll see if I can help you," he grinned up at the Captain.

The two of them spent the next hour or so going over the name of the troopers on Rex's datapad, picking out some places where they could stay for the night. In the end, Rex's name was the only one on the list that didn't have a space assigned to it yet. No matter what they tried, there didn't seem to be a spot for him.

"You could bunk down with me," Anakin said after contemplating for a bit in silence. He didn't know why he said it, but he couldn't find a real reason to take it back now that he'd done it. Rex was easy to talk to once you looked past all that military stiffness that had been drilled into him, and it wasn't like Anakin had never shared a bed with other friends of his before. Really, there was no reason for the embarrassed blush on his cheeks.

Rex blinked at him before replying. "I really couldn't ask that of you, sir. It wouldn't be proper and I wouldn't want to inconvenience you."

"You're not asking, I'm offering," Anakin shot back. "And besides: I think we both no I couldn't care less about what the GAR thinks is 'proper'." He winked at him and watched Rex open his mouth, close it, and open it again.

"Really, sir -" he started, but Anakin interrupted him.

"C'mon, Rex." He leaned a bit more into the direction where Rex was sitting. "You need a place to sleep, I've got space in my bed. It's a completely logical solution."

Rex was quiet for another moment, the expression on his face giving away nothing of his thoughts. Eventually, he whispered a quiet "okay".

Anakin grinned the brightest grin he could muster at him, the gesture pulling slightly at the bacta patch on his face.

Rex smiled back. A warm feeling exploded in Anakin's chest at the sight of it.

He decided not to think too much about what it meant.

Chapter Text

It was late at night on the planet they were on when Rex finally stepped into the General's tent.

He wouldn't dare ever admitting it to anyone, but he had tried stalling for as long as he could. Eventually though, when it had become a bit suspicous for him to be still up - not that anyone would call him out on it, he was the highest ranking officer after Skywalker, after all -, Rex had finally sought out Skywalker's tent to retire to bed.

The General was sitting on the floor, his legs crossed and his hands laying on his knees, their palms facing upwards. His eyes were closed and his hair, that had grown out a bit since the start of the war, was slightly damp from a shower he had taken somewhere between offering Rex to sleep in his bed and the current situation.

Skywalker's Jedi robes were hung over the back of a chair standing in the tent. Instead of them, Skywalker wore a pair of black sweatpants, his chest exposed. It was an oddly domestic sight for a military camp and Rex was filled with a feeling he couldn't quite decipher.

Rex set his helmet down next to the entrance as quietly as he could. Which was, apparently, not quiet enough because when Rex stood up straight again, the General's eyes were open. They were focused on Rex and the light that spilled from the lamp on the bedside table made them shimmer in different shades of blue.

Rex looked back at him and for a while, it was just the two of them staring at each other in this tent in the middle of the night. Outside, the sounds of crickets - or whatever equivalent to them inhabited this planet - could be heard and there was some sort of night active bird singing in the distance. It was nice, even comfortable. Something Rex didn't think he had ever experienced since they had started fighting against the Seperatists, maybe not even before that.

Eventually, a smile started growing on Skywalker's face, making the bacta patch near his right eye crinkle. It wasn't his usual type of smile, somehow mischievous and charming at the same time. No, it was... softer, more private, and Rex couldn't help but think that it made the man look even more beautiful, that he wanted to see it more often. Which was a completely idiot and selfish thought. It wasn't his place to want his General to keep smiling at him like that.

"Hey," Skywalker almost whispered, but it seemed to fill out the entire tent nonetheless. His gaze flickered over Rex's face. "You look a bit exhausted."

Rex didn't know if his military resting face had suffered so much that others could read his feeling off of it or if that was another one of the things the Force had told him. No matter which one it was, Rex didn't think Skywalker actually expected him to respond to the statement. "I'm sorry if I interrupted anything," he said instead, remembering the way the jetti had been completely concentrated on whatever he had been doing beforehand. The situation didn't quite feel right to add a 'sir' to his sentence, but Skywalker didn't seem to mind.

"No, not at all, Rex. I was just done, don't worry." Skywalker detangled his legs and stood up in an elegant, fluid motion, putting his hands together above his head and stretching his back, the movement reminding Rex of a loth cat.

Skywalker walked over to his bed - as far as you could actually call it that - and sat down on the edge of it. "You can put your armor down over there," he continued, gesturing to the chair he had hung his robes over. Rex only noticed now, but Skywalker wasn't wearing the heavy leather glove he usually wore to cover his prosthetic arm.

With a nod, Rex picked up his bucket again to lay it down onto the chair instead. Then, he started undoing the straps of his armor bits and put those down on or next to the chair as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Skywalker watching him, his blue eyes tracking every single one of his movements. It made Rex's cheeks feel hot.

He hesitated for a bit, standing there in his blacks as he thought about whether or not it was appropriate for him to take his shirt off as well. Skywalker had taken his off - as Rex had definitely not failed to notice - and the planet's atmosphere was still rather warm despite the sun having set hours ago.

Rex mentally shook his head at himself and finally decided to pull his shirt over his head. Skywalker averted his eyes at that, a faint red shadow on his own face. Huh...

"Fresher's over there," Skywalker told him when he turned back around, pointing to a part of the tent that was cut off from the rest of it with a thin curtain.

Rex nodded in thanks and ducked behind the curtain.

The 'fresher' was really just a sink with a mirror hanging over it. It wasn't much, but it was more than any of the vode's tents had been equipped with.

Rex knew that he wasn't pretty. He cut his hair way too short, didn't nearly have as many muscles as Cody and his batchmates - Wolffe was built like a kriffing tank -, and he certainly didn't possess any of the grace he had seen Sketch or even Kix move with.

The look in the mirror only confirmed it. His torso was covered in lots of scars, some so tiny they weren't even really noticeable, others seeming to stretch on forever.

But the General had blushed, hadn't he? Maybe that meant-

Oh, who was he kidding? He was nothing compared to Skywalker. The man had probably just been uncomfortable at the realization that he would truly share a bed with Rex.

Maybe he should put his shirt back on...

____________________

Anakin Skywalker was not okay.

Out of all the people in the galaxy, why did the Kaminoans have to choose an overly attractive man to clone?

Not that Rex wasn't also beautiful when he had his shirt on, but Anakin certainly didn't mind seeing him without it. Even though the sight made him turn red uncontrollably.

But maybe it wasn't even Jango Fett's genetics. After all, Anakin hadn't reacted that way to seeing Hardcase shirtless when it had ripped during training. Or when it had been eaten by a giant plant. Or when he had taken it off in the mess hall after spilling food onto it.

...

Now that he thought about it, Hardcase lost his shirt fairly often. Maybe even more often than Obi-Wan lost his cloaks.

Anakin groaned and flopped down onto his back. Guess it wasn't Fett's fault then. Maybe it was just the situation. Or Anakin's concussion was worse than Kix had originally though. Or maybe Rex-

Anakin groaned again, turning over to hide his face in his pillow despite Rex still being in the 'fresher and nobody else being around.

Jedi weren't supposed to develope feelings like that. Especially not for their subordinates. Hopefully it was just a puppy crush. Like the one he had had on Padmé Amidala. That one had gone away after a few weeks and he and Padmé were great friends now.

Deciding not to make his headache even worse than it was, Anakin lifted the covers and curled up on one side of the bed, leaving the other one for Rex.

Sleep would probably help him clear his thoughts.

He was already half asleep by the time he could feel the bed dip under the weight of another person laying down next to him.

____________________

Sleep did help a bit. Anakin couldn't remember anything he had dreamt about, but he woke up feeling well rested, something that had not happened very often recently. He didn't even have a backache from the shitty GAR mattress.

Of course things had to go downhill from there because the Universe hated Anakin. What use did being the Chosen One have if you didn't even get a little bit of extra luck?

Anakin soon realized that the reason his bed felt so much more comfortable than usual was because he wasn't lying on it properly.

No, instead he was lying half on top of Rex, his cheek resting on the man's collarbone, one leg thrown over Rex's and the fingers of his flesh hand splayed out somewhere on the Captain's chest.

Anakin knew he was one of those people who somehow moved twenty miles in their sleep without waking the slightest bit. He also knew that he usually ended up almost squishing people to death if he shared a bed with them, but for some reason, he hadn't spared a single thought to that fact when he had offered Rex to bunk down together. Or when Rex had entered his tent. But to be fair, Anakin had been a bit distracted at that moment and sending him away then would have just seemed rude.

Anyway, point being: Even if he ended up sleeping on top of other people, it wasn't usually a problem. The only people he had ever shared a bed with were either family (his mom, Obi-Wan) or close friends of his (Aayla, Barriss, Padmé), so no big deal if they ended up cuddling. Which made Anakin even more confused because he did consider Rex a close friend, so why did this whole situation feel so much more awkward?

Maybe he could just move away and pretend like it had never happenend and Rex could wake up peacefully and they would go back to the Resolute and everything would be perfectly fine.

But then Anakin felt Rex's Force presence stir and his whole plan fell apart. The Captain's muscles tensed as he realized the position the two of them were in. Anakin concentrated very hard on trying to focus on anything but the way Rex's skin felt under his fingers.

He breathed whatever that feeling was and his embarrassment into the Force. If he pretended this while situation wasn't as awkward as it really was, maybe it would stop feeling so weird. Fake it 'til you make it and all that.

"Morning," Anakin murmured and internally winced at how his voice cracked.

He could feel Rex swallow before he responded "Good morning." His voice was a bit raspy and Anakin was endlessly thankful that he hadn't tacked his usual 'sir' at the end of his sentence. He was honestly not sure if his brain would have been able to handle that.

There was a long pause. Then Rex spoke up again. "Comfortable?" he asked and suddenly all the tension in the air disappeared. Ankin could picture the rare look of amusement Rex had on his face.

"Oh, fuck you," Anakin shot back. He snorted out a laugh and rolled over onto his back.

Rex chuckled. "Sorry, sir. Couldn't resist myself."

Oh, Force. Anakin had a problem.

Chapter Text

Rex had a problem.

Well, to be completely honest, he had two problems.

Problem Number One: He had a giant kriffing crush on his General. That was the problem that had been around longer out of the two and at the beginning, Rex hadn't really paid it any mind. He had written it off as admiration or something like that. Skywalker was the first natborn to treat him like a human being instead of a glorified meat droid, after all.

But then, during one of the movie nights on the Resolute - that had started happening every other week -, they had watched what Skywalker had referred to as The greatest romance movie ever created. Rex hadn't had anything to compare it to, but it had in fact been a good movie.

Afterwards, as he had lain in his bunk, his brain had started drawing similarities between the way the main character had acted towards the love interest and the way Rex acted towards the General. He hadn't liked the outcome.

The fact that they had shared a bed during one of the campaigns had made it so much worse. He couldn't get the feeling of Skywalker's skin on his out of his head. Or how his voice had been slightly rougher and deeper. Or how his hair had been a mess but still incredibly beautiful..

Problem Number Two: The 501st and 212th had been assigned to fight together on Christophsis. Which meant that Cody and Rex would have to work directly alongside each other.

That in itself wasn't a problem. Rex loved his ori'vod deeply and he didn't have to ask to know Cody loved him just as much. Even if Cody had the habit of being emotionally constipated all the time. Rex still didn't know whether or not he preferred that over Wolffe biting people to show he cared about them.

No, the problem was that Cody was - aside from Fox, maybe - the only one who could see through Rex's osik. Meaning Cody would know he was helplessly in love with Skywalker, no matter how hard he tried to lock those feelings in a box made out of beskar and shove it into the darkest corner of his mind.

Cody wouldn't report him for it, although it was the most logical thing to do. Hell, Rex didn't even have the guts to report himself because he was too afraid. He probably wouldn't be sent to decommissioning, mostly because it would cause a great inconvenience for Skywalker if he had to get a new Captain. Rex would be reconditioned, would have all improper thoughts along with whatever individual personality he thought he possessed wiped out of his brain, would be the perfect little soldier again aside from his hair colour.

Rex didn't want that and he was a kriffing hut'uun for that. He liked watching suns set and rise, liked their movie nights, liked seeing the people around him happy. He didn't want to forget all that.

He was pathetic.

Only Cody wouldn't tell him that. Cody would send him that sad big brother smile and hug him, maybe give him a mirshmure'cya, and tell him everything would be alright, just like he had when Rex had been younger back on Kamino.

Rex kind of hated him for it. Both of them had always known Cody was lying when he had said that. Nothing would be alright just because someone said so. If the Kaminoans would have decided to dispose of Rex like they had done to so many other brothers, Cody wouldn't have been able to do anything to stop it. Not even Seventeen could have done anything. At most, Prime would have had the power to save him, but Jango Fett had never even met Rex, so he would have had no reason to.

Rex sighed and approved another form. Kix wanted to order a bunch of Aloe Vera creme. Rex didn't know what exactly that was good for, but he had too much respect for their head medic to deny his request.

Tomorrow, they would land on Christophsis.

Tomorrow, Rex would see Cody again. Even if his ori'vod wouldn't be able to help him, at least the part of his heart that missed him terribly could stop screaming.

____________________

Cody knew something was wrong with his vod'ika the moment Rex and General Skywalker stepped foot onto the Negotiatior. Call it his ori'vod instincts or something related to them, but Rex just seemed off. It probably wasn't even noticeable to anyone aside from him, maybe his batchmates (Ponds knew if anyone had problems before they knew themselves and Fox just assumed everyone had problems all the time.).

General Kenobi's eyes lit up like a bunch of fireworks at the sight of his former apprentice and Cody barely stopped himself from smiling what Waxer had started to refer to as his Kenobi-smile ("You only ever smile like that if he's around."). But to be honest, who could blame him? Kenobi's eyes had grown dull over the course of the war, and seeing them glow again made Cody's chest feel all warm and weird.

Skywalker and Kenobi hugged each other and Rex moved over to stand besides Cody in front of the table that showed a map of Christophsis, tucking his helmet under his arm.

Cody knocked his shoulder against his vod'ika's and raised an eyebrow at him. You okay?

Rex responded with a sad smile that didn't last for much longer than a second and tilted his head slightly. I'll tell you later, don't worry.

Their 'conversation' was interrupted by Admiral Yulareen joining the four of them, wanting to go over their plan of attack again.

Cody silently noted that Skywalker left most of the talking about the 501st to Rex and innerly debated whether he should add that as a pro or contra point to his list of things about Anakin Skywalker.

Said list - that existed entirely in Cody's mind - currently looked like this:

Pro:
●General Kenobi likes him
●Cares about the vode
●Wears armor that actualky looks like it could handle a few blaster bolts (looking at you, Kenobi)
Con:
●Batshit crazy (Jesse's words)
●Taller than Cody
●Improvises his attacks more often than not
●Kind of copied Cody's scar (they are pretty similar, okay?)

... Cody really needed some hobbies.

____________________

Ahsoka's original idea of finally becoming someone's Padawan hadn't exactly involved rescuing Jabba The Hutt's son or crash landing on Tatooine. As far as she was could tell, Master Skywalker hadn't been very happy about it either. The little bit of his Force presence she had been able to feel behind his shields had reminded her of an ocean during a heavy storm: enormous, powerful, and the opposite of the calm pond she would decribe Master Plo's Force presence with. But maybe that was just how the Chosen One always was. It wasn't like Ahsoka could compare it to any other situations.

No matter what the answer was, Master Skywalker had shown Ahsoka where her room on the Resolute was and had then promptly left, telling her to go crazy and that he would be in his own quarters should she need anything.

Ahsoka did in fact need some company, but she guessed that she could hang out with any other person on this ship and didn't have to bother him. He had seemed pretty exhausted, after all.

And so she found herself entering the mess hall where a bunch of troopers from both the 501st and the 212th were currently sitting and talking. Master Kenobi wasn't with them, having to take a call from the Council back on the Negotiatior.

Two troopers from the 212th - Master Kenobi had introduced them as Waxer and Boil - sat at a table near the back of the hall with another three clones from the 501st. Two of them had their heads shaved, one with the symbol of the Republic tattooed onto it and the other with a 501st-blue sort of lightning strike running down the side of his head. Ahsoka didn't know their names, but she thought she had heard Master Skywalker call the third one Hawk. She wouldn't bet on it, though.

Putting on the friendliest smile she could, Ahsoka walked over to them. "Hi," she began. "Do you mind if I sit down with you?"

"Suit yourself, Commander," the one with the Republic tattoo said and moved over a bit so that she could sit between him and Boil.

Ahsoka mentally grimaced at the title. It didn't fit her; she understood basically nothing of military tactics and stuff like that. She turned towards the three clones of the 501st. "I don't think I know your names yet."

"I'm Jesse," Republic tattoo said. He gestured to the other bald one. "That's Hardcase."

"I can introduce myself, di'kut," Harcase shot back and shoved a spoon full of... something that was probably supposed to be food into his mouth. He was the only one at the table eating food from the mess hall, the others munching on ration bars that, in Ahsoka's experience, didn't taste much better than hoe Hardcase's food looked.

"Naww, come on, Hardcase," Boil said from her other side, his tone of voice teasing. "Don't be mean to your big brother." His grin left his face as someone - most likely Hardcase - kicked him in the shin beneath the table.

Ahsoka let out a laugh, turning towards the last member of their little group. "Name's Hawk," was all he said. She mentally congratulated herself on getting it right.

Waxer, who sat next to Hawk, threw his arm over the other's shoulder. "He's also the best pilot the 501st can offer."

"How would you know?" Jesse asked. "Besides, I'm pretty sure that title belongs to General Skywalker."

Waxer snorted. "Yeah, right. And I'm Lama Su."

"I mean, he did crash our ship on Tatooine," Ahsoka threw in.

"Shit, you okay?" Hardcase put his elbows on the table and leaned forward to get a better look at her.

Jesse hit him across the back of his head. "No swearing in front of children."

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow, feeling a bit insulted. "Children? I'm fourteen. I hardly can be called a kriffing child anymore."

Hawk let out a low whistle. "Ooh, the shiny Commander knows some bad words."

She was about to ask what he meant with shiny, when another trooper plopped down on the bench on Jesse's other side. He smelled faintly like bacta and looked even more exhausted than Ahsoka felt.

Jesse gave him a pat on the back so hard he basically flew onto the table in front of them, barely catching himself. "That's Kix, our head medic," Jesse introduced him. Kix raised a hand in greeting before promptly slamming his face down on the table and sighing dramatically.

"He's always a bit stressed after our deployments," Hardcase continued. Kix slurred something in a language Ahsoka didn't understand. Or maybe the sound was just too dampened by the surface his face was pressed into.

"I think your medic's broken," Boil commented.

Hardcase kicked him again, and Ahsoka got the feeling that her stay here wouldn't be so bad after all.

Chapter Text

Cody was staring at the floor.

In fact, Cody had been staring at the floor for exactly four minutes and thirty-seven seconds, as Rex's HUD so helpfully let him know.

Rex could basically see the cogs inside his ori'vod's head turning as Cody tried to analyze the information Rex had just supplied him with. 'Analyze' because Cody was emotionally constipated and would probably drop dead if he had to look at something from anything else than a professional level. Rex didn't really know how anyone could interpret I have a big fat crush on my commanding officer with a view approved by the Kaminoans, but Cody often managed to surprised him.

After exactly five minutes and eleven seconds, Rex couldn't stand the silence anymore. "So...," he started but ultimately trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Cody glanced up at him from where he was sitting at his desk. As Commander of the Negotiator, he was entitled to his own private room and didn't have to share living space with the rest of the 212th. Technically, Rex would have been entitled to private quarters as well, but it hadn't felt right to actually use them when he was just a captain. Which was probably a good decision because Commander Tano would move in there now and Rex wouldn't have to move his stuff out before she could.

"So...," Cody repeated, sitting back in his chair. "You've got a problem, vod."

Rex snorted out a laugh. "No shit." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall behind him. "Well, what do I do to solve it?"

"I don't know," Cody said and shook his head thoughtfully.

Rex gave him a confused look. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean what I said: I don't know how you can solve it," Cody answered and an exhausted expression came over his face. "I'm starting to realize I don't know a lot of things ever since I began working with General Kenobi."

That made Rex pause. "Why ?" he asked, a note of concern bleeding into his voice. "What's he doing to you?" As far as he had heard and seen, Kenobi was pretty much perfect. He couldn't imagine the man would be unkind or anything like that to the clones. Rex was pretty sure he'd gone out of his way in the middle of the fight on Christophsis to save a kriffing lizard, so that picture didn't fit him at all.

"Nothing... bad, I don't think," Cody told him after a bit of contemplating. "He's just... confusing me. He's so nice all the time and he spends lots of time around me and every time he smiles, there's this weird feeling in my chest."

Rex wanted to hit his head against the fucking wall. His brother was an idiot. "Cody," he carefully said.

Cody's face went completely blank as he realized what he'd just said. "Oh, fuck."

____________________

Upon returning to the Resolute, Rex found a bunch of his men sitting in the mess hall with Commander Tano, laughing about something that must have been terribly funny, considering Hawk was lying face down on the table, shaking with silent laughter. Even Kix was smiling, which was highly unusual after a battle as intense as this one had been.

Jesse somehow managed to spot him from all the way across the room because he shouted his name and motioned for him to come over.

Technically, Rex was supposed to look for Skywalker to give him an after-battle report. But since Rex didn't know where his General was right now, he guessed it couldn't hurt to spend a few minutes goofing around with his vode.

He made his way over to their table and gave Tano a respectful nod. "Commander."

She grinned at him and Rex felt a small smile forming on his face as well. He hadn't had the time to properly get to know her better yet, but so far, she seemed like a good person. Even if she was way too young to be on an active battlefield, especially while holding two deathly glowsticks.

"Captain," she shot back. "Want to join us?"

"Yeah, Captain," Waxer continued. "We were just telling Commander Tano about that one time you-" He was interrupted by Boil elbowing him in the side rather harshly.

Rex raised an eyebrow in the best deadpan Fox-expression he could manage. "About the one time I what?"

Boil cleared his throat awkwardly and stood up. "You know what, Captain?" he said. "I really think it's time for me and Waxer to get back to the Negotiator. Wouldn't want to keep General Kenobi waiting, right, Waxer?" He gave his brother another harsh pat on the back as the vode of the 501st groaned at having to say goodbye so soon.

"You sure you have to leave already?" Hardcase asked, a sad twinkle in his eyes and Rex felt kind of guilty about it, but not guilty enough to let them spill all his embarrassing childhood stories.

Waxer stoop up too. "Yeah, sorry we can't stay longer." He sent an overly nice smile to Rex before turning to Tano. "See you around Commander."

She waved as the two of them left the mess hall.

Rex cleared his throat, remembering his original goal. "Do any of you know where the General is?"

"In his room," Commander Tano responded. "He seemed pretty exhausted after all the shit that happened today."

Jesse made an unhappy noise. "I still don't think you should be allowed to swear. You're basically a baby."

"She can also put all of you on 'fresher scrubbing duty," Rex said with just a tiny amount of smugness in his voice. They groaned again and Rex thanked the Commander before exiting the mess hall, grabbing a cup of hot chocolate on his way out because apparently, hot chocolate was the only hot drink consumed by Skywalker.

____________________

Anakin breathed in... and out.

He wasn't even meditating, although that would probably the thing the Jedi would want him to do in a situation like this. He was lying on the floor in his room on the Resolute, sprawled out like a star fish. His Jedi robes had been thrown onto his bed lazily, having felt way too suffocating and hot. Anakin didn't like being hot; it reminded him too much of twins suns unforgivingly glaring down at him while he and his mom-

In... and out.

He had put on a tank top he hadn't even been aware was owned by him and a pair of sweatpants. The outfit was definitely too cold to wear. The Resolute's air circulation system had had a malfunction a few days ago which had made the entire ship cool down a few degrees.

The cold from the floor was seeping into his skin, clinging tighly to his bones, making it feel like Anakin could sense where they pressed against his insides. Perhaps if he lay there long enough, it would make the blood in his veins start to freeze and then his heart would slowly but surely stop beating while his brain made him think the situation was terribly funny because of blood loss.

It was a bit uncomfortable, but Anakin couldn't bring himself to move. It just seemed pointless, and the cold kept his mind from wandering to-

In... and out.

There was a heavy feeling in his stomach. Not like he had to throw up, more like someone had taken the entire sorrow of the world and had stuffed it in there, leaving it there to writhe around.

There was a knock on his door. Anakin ignored it.

In... and out.

Maybe if he just pretended he wasn't here, the Universe would stop bothering him entirely.

Another knock, this time a bit louder. And another, after about two minutes of silence. This one was accompanied with a quiet "General?" .

Anakin heaved a sigh and finally stood up from the floor. He crossed the distance to the door and opened it, leaning his left shoulder against the frame. He probably shouldn't have been as surprised as he was that it was Rex waiting for him on the other side.

"Rex," he greeted his Captain, his voice strangely soft. For a moment, it almost seemed like Rex's eyes were trailing down his body. Which was most definitely not what was happening, but the idea still made Anakin's cheeks turn red. Stupid feelings. He cleared his throat. "Everything okay?"

Rex nodded. "Yes, sir. I was planning on talking to you about today's campaign, but I can go again if you're occupied otherwise."

It took a while for Anakin to properly comprehend the words Rex had said and even longer to actually get his mouth open to respond to them. "No, it's cool," he muttered and took a step back so Rex could enter the room. "Come in."

Rex gave him another nod and Anakin closed the door after him. He walked over to his bed and just threw the clothes on there onto the floor, sitting down where they'd been lying, his legs crossed.

Hesitating for only a moment, Rex mirrored him and then held out a mug. "Hot chocolate," he offered.

Anakin blinked. "Oh. Thanks." Maybe he should have focused on the fact that Rex knew what his favorite drink was, or that Rex had brought it to him. But instead, as he took the mug into his hands, the only thing he could think about was the way the warm ceramic under his fingers reminded him of the white stone walls of the buildings in Mos Espa and about the times he and his mo-

"Are you feeling alright, sir?" Rex asked him, his head tilted to the side a bit. The gesture reminded Anakin of a loth cat.

"Yeah," he eloquently answered and Rex began to talking about something Anakin probably wouldn't even have understood had he listened to the Captain fully, not just in an attempt to drown out the white static in his head. Not like it helped anyway.

His mind was a mess - he was a mess. Nothing felt real. Not the goosebumps on his exposed arms from the cold, not Rex's voice trickling into the cracks of his brain, sticking there like honey but being gone before he could even hope to get a taste of it. Not even the hot chocolate that spilled over his fingers when his hands forgot to hold onto his mug while his mind circled around a lone planet in space, always thinking of a goal but never reaching it, circling and circling and circling.

Rex had stopped talking about whatever he had come to talk about in favor of repeating the same three syllables over and over again. They sounded like Anakin was supposed to know them, but he couldn't remember why. The way Rex said them so often made them sound kind of funny.

A warm hand landed on his naked shoulder, snapping out of... whatever he had been and making Anakin's head turn to face the only other person in the room. The place where Rex's skin touched his felt like it was burning.

Rex was frowning. "You're freezing cold, sir," he mumbled. He reached out with his other hand, probably to feel his forehead, but Anakin couldn't take more of that scalding hot touch and before he knew it, his right hand was clamped around Rex's wrist in a grip that must have hurt.

Anakin's eyes were glued to where he held Rex, the skin around his metal fingers turning a few shades lighter from the pressure and Rex... just kept looking at him with that that deeply sad and concerned look.

Releasing his wrist, Anakin scooted back on his bed so that his back hit the wall it was pushed up against. He let his face fall into his hands. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and then he said it again and again and again because Rex didn't deserve to have to put up with someone as broken as he was.

His eyes were burning with tears, but something in his brain that screamed he couldn't waste water stopped them from spilling.

"It's okay," Rex said.

It really wasn't.

Chapter Text

Anakin didn't know how long it took for him to gain his composure again. Grasping the flow of time was a task too complex right now. He had stopped repeating the words "I'm sorry" a while ago, but his heart didn't stop racing until far later.

When he moved forward to sit closer to the edge of the bed - and closer to Rex - again, he could see that the hot chocolate that had spilled onto the floor had begun to dry. He would have to clean that up.

The only movement that had come from Rex had been his right leg starting to shake with anxiety. Anakin was sure should he reach out to him with the Force, he would be hit with an overwhelmingly large cloud of it. Normally, he would have tried to help soothe his worry, but seeing as he was already overwhelmed with just his own emotions, he decided that wasn't the best idea at the moment.

Anakin owed Rex an explanation. Or perhaps he didn't, but it certainly felt like the other man deserved one. Rex was good and kind and strong and beautiful and Force, Anakin really needed to stop crushing on him.

Point being that Rex had to put up with so much banthashit without getting to make a single choice for himself, so an explanation was the least Anakin could give him.

Taking a deep breath, Anakin spoke up. "I used to live on Tatooine, you know?" He hated how his voice cracked and how weak he sounded and how kind Rex's eyes were looking at him.

The Captain nodded. "I've read your file." He was quiet for a moment but clearly not entirely done with talking as far as Anakin could tell from his facial expression. "You don't have to tell me anything," he finally settled on saying. "Being uncomfortable because of something that is in the past is completely okay and you don't have to explain anything to anyone if you don't want to."

Anakin was a bit taken aback by how much those words didn't fit Rex's usual demeanor. "Didn't know you were a therapist."

The corners of Rex's lips twitched upwards. "I have some great big brothers," he said.

"I got one of those too," Anakin mumbled. He reached for a pillow somewhere next to him and wrapped his arms around it as he thought about what to say next. Eventually, he decided on just ripping of the bandaid. "My mom and I were slaves."

Rex's face went entirely blank. Even his eyes that were usually so expressive.

"We were sold to Gardulla The Hutt when I was three," Anakin continued because he found now that he started he couldn't stop. "I don't remember a lot of it. I started podracing for Gardulla. I didn't win, but someone named Watto apparently thought I was worth something. He won my mom and me in a gamble with Gardulla. From then on, when I wasn't podracing, I was fixing up stuff in Watto's shop. It wasn't great, but it was better than working for Gardulla. At least that's what Mom always said. Then one day, a Jedi named Qui-Gon Jinn and his Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi stranded on Tatooine with Padmé Amidala. Long story short, they took me back to Coruscant and I've trained to be a Jedi ever since."

Rex had a pensive look on his face mixed with something like bitterness. Obi-Wan had worn a similar express when Anakin had opened up to him about his childhood. Obi-Wan had cried, though, because he was connected with his emotions. Anakin still wasn't sure whether or not Jedi were allowed to do that.

When Rex didn't say anything, Anakin turned around, showing his back to Rex. "Every slave has a transmitter inside of them. They're basically little bombs that explode once their carrier moved too far away from where they were supposed to be, so thed can't run away." He let his fingers brush over a certain spot along his spine, feeling the metal beneath his skin. "Mine's not active anymore, but Bant - one of Obi-Wan's friends - said they couldn't take it out because it was grown into my spine or something like that. I'm not gonna lie, I-"

Anakin's breath hitched as warm fingers touched his skin. They were barely there, sofly tracing the spot where his slave chip was buried inside of him. Somehow, it was strangely pleasant, not the same kind of burning Anakin had shied away from before.

Opening his mouth to try and finish his sentence, Anakin found he couldn't get a single sound out of it, completely focused on where Rex's fingertips lay at the exposed part of his back, almost at his neck.

A silence fell over them, the only noise the blanket rustling as Rex shifted his weight to sit a bit closer to him.

"Back on Kamino," Rex said, his voice barely above a whisper, "there's something like that."

Anakin tightened his grip on the pillow, closing his eyes and desperately attempting to ignore that Rex was sitting so close that his breath gosted over Anakin's neck when he spoke. Rex was telling him something important, being vulnerable in front of him. Or, well, behind him, but whatever.

"If you want to be exact, there's two thing pretty close to it," Rex continued, his fingers starting to draw circles into Anakin's skin. "Sometimes, us clones don't come out of the tube to the Kaminoans' liking. Wrong haircolor, different eyecolors, not the right height - basically anything that doesn't make us look like exact duplicates of Jango Fett. Most of the time, those clones get decommissioned."

And suddenly a lot of things made sense. It explained why the 501st had been walking on eggshells around him at first, why they had been so hesitant to give out their names, why Rex had never taken his helmet off: They'd been afraid he would let them be decommissioned.

"But you didn't," Anakin whispered, his voice not letting the fury inside of him show. The possibilty of not having met Rex because some stupid giraffe-fucker had deemed him unworthy of living because of his haircolor made Anakin want to do a lot of things the Jedi would most definitely not agree with.

"But I didn't," Rex repeated his words. "No, but I was afraid of it every day." He let his fingertips wander over Anakin's shoulder blade and down his left arm, resting his hand somewhere close to his elbow. The touch sent electricity shooting through Anakin's veins, but he didn't want it to stop.

"I don't think I'm afraid anymore," Rex finished and Anakin thought he might combust.

"You told me there were two things," he said, not necessarily wanting Rex to give him another reason to hate the Kaminoans but not being able to handle more of... whatever feeling those words had made him experience.

"Reconditioning," Rex said.

"I don't think I like the sound of that one either."

Rex let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, it's... not nice. From what I've heard from my brothers on Kamino, it's probably worse than decommissioning. It's mental shock therapy or some osik like that. I don't know what exactly the Kaminoans do, but once a clone comes out of there, they're nothing like what they were before. They're stripped from everything that gives them their personality. They don't even remember names. Not their own and not anyone else's. They're an just a shallow echo of what they used to be."

"I'm sorry," Anakin told him, not knowing what else to say. He had never been good at comforting people and he was way too angry to do that properly right now anyway.

"Not your fault. Besides, I've heard rumors that General Ti shut both of that pretty quickly once she got to Kamino."

Anakin felt a bit of relief at that, but still. It didn't make up for all the lives that had been lost, of all the clones that had had to suffer because of their lost siblings.

"I won't let anything like that happen to you. Ever." Anakin didn't know if he meant Rex or the 501st as a whole. Prioritizing a single being over others wasn't the Jedi way, but Anakin didn't think he could live without Rex, attachments be damned.

"I know, General."

"Anakin."

"... I know, Anakin."

____________________

Strangely enough, that... incident, as Rex had begun to call it in his mind, didn't make things between them awkward. Rex went back to calling Skywalker by his last name but would occasionally let himself call him Anakin when it was just the two of them discussing strategies or filing paperwork.

The two of them were currently sat around the desk in Skywalker's quarters, trying to teach Commander Tano what she was supposed to write into the mission reports sent to the Jedi Council and the Senate, with the Senate actually just being poor Fox who had to do all the Chancellor's paperwork for some reason nobody really understood.

Tano was actually doing pretty good. The kid had an excellent memory, almost rivaling Rex's own ability to remember the smallest of details. She was doing her job as a commander pretty great, even if Rex could clearly tell she was uncomfortable in such a position. He didn't necessarily like being in charge of the lives of his vode either, but it was what he had been made for. Still, in the quiet moments he and Skywalker spent together with Skywalker sending him a smile that Rex liked to think was only reserved him, he wondered if he could be more than the Kaminoans had designed him to be. More, than someone whose life was supposed to be given for the good of a Republic that couldn't care less about who was fighting for them as long as they didn't have to do it themselves.

"What do I put in here again?" Tano pointed to a section on her form with the stylus she was using to write on the datapad.

Rex and Skywalker leaned over to see what she was referring to.

"Oh, I usually just leave that blank," Skywalker told her and went back to filling out his own stuff on his datapad. He obviously didn't notice the disbelieving expression on Rex's face. Tano, on the other hand, did notice it.

"You okay there, Rex?" she said which made Skywalker look up at him as well.

"What do you mean by that?" Rex asked, directing his question at the other man.

"I mean that I just leave it blank," Skywalker responded. "I don't write anything in there." He paused for a moment. "Am I... not supposed to do that?"

At least Rex had an explanation as to why Fox kept sending him passive-aggressive text messages now. "No, you're not."

Tano snorted out a laugh. "Good to know you know how to do your paperwork, Skyguy."

"In my defense -", Skywalker started but was interrupted by the sound of a commlink going off. Tano pulled hers out.

"It's Barriss," she said and gave her Master a pleading look.

He grinned at her and nodded. "Go on."

Tano quickly stood up and rushed out of the room to answer the call, leaving the other two alone. For a while, they sat there in silence, each of them working on their seperate stuff. That was until Rex's datapad chimed with the sound of an incoming message.

"Who is it?" Skywalker glanced at him.

"Cody," Rex told him, skimming through the content of the message. "Something about checking out the Rishi Moon outpost with me."

"When do you have to leave?" Rex didn't quite know how to interpret the look on Skywalker's face. It almost seemed... sad.

"Tomorrow at about 1200," he answered. And then, because he couldn't stand seeing Skywalker unhappy, he added "I'm free 'til then, though. We could watch a movie together or something."

Skywalker raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. "Just the two of us?"

Yes, Rex thought. And afterwards, we should ki- "And anyone else who wants to, of course," he said, ignoring the osik his mind produced. "But don't let Hardcase pick the movie or he's gonna choose one of those sappy romances again."

Chapter Text

"I'm a hopeless case. Really. Just the two of us? Why do I keep saying stupid shit like that!?"

Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear, was, once again, completely fucked.

It was one of the few days the 501st actually got to spend on Coruscant without having to do anything military related, and Anakin took advantage of that to just sit around in his old room in the Jedi Temple all day, occasionally tinkering with some spare droid parts that were scattered around everywhere but mostly enjoying the fact that he had a bed that wouldn't make him lose all feeling in his back. He wasn't really in the mood for meditation or even sparring against one of the training droids, too exhausted from all the stuff that had happened recently.

The attack on Kamino had been pretty rough upon all of them, but Anakin couldn't say he'd gotten the worst of it. He hadn't had to watch so many of his siblings die, including those way too young to be even considered teens. Most of the 501st had been uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of that day.

Two new ARC-troopers who Anakin didn't know the names of yet had joined their battalion afterwards, picked out by Rex way back at the Rishi Moon outpost he and Cody had inspected. He had skimmed through their files earlier this week, eyes pausing on the word Reconditioning in one of them and had mentally noted to show some extra kindness to that guy. The other troopers obviously didn't share his opinion, considering he'd seen Jesse and some others already bully them into a drinking contest at 79's.

"What do you mean you aren't my personal dating coach?" he asked at the beep-boops R2-D2 let out. "Why else do you think I keep you around?" Anakin sat up from where he was lying on his bed to look at his astromech properly.

Friend Ani: hilarious

"You know, I don't think sarcasm is supposed to be programmed into you," Anakin shot back and picked up the miniature starfighter placed on his nightstand, turning it over in his hands. "If you're this good at emotions, why can't you just tell me how I can stop crushing on one of my best friends?"

R2 didn't respond, just doing a 180 degree turn and rolling straight out of his room and into the open living space he had always shared with Obi-Wan during his Padawan days. They still technically did but with the war going on, it didn't happen often that the two of them were on Coruscant at the same time.

Anakin heaved a sigh and flopped back down onto his bed, setting his starfighter down on the duvet next to and closing his eyes. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why did this stupid crush on Rex not go away? Why did the two of them have to meet while fighting this war? Why, why, why?

___________________

"You doing alright, Echo?"

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm good."

He was lying, and he knew it was obvious to Fives that he was lying. He didn't remember which brother had told him that you can't lie to your twin, couldn't even tell if it had been said to him or the real Echo that had inhabited his mind before him, but the words were definitely true. He and Fives always knew when the other was lying, somehow being able to identify each others feeling better than the rest of their vode. (Echo didn't tell that to anyone because what if it was another defect and they would get into his brain again and strip his thoughts away from him again and make him have constant anxiety should there be anything that wasn't exactly how the regs wanted it to be and-)

The bar the other troopers from the 501st had taken them to was located somewhere on what Echo would call a middle level of Coruscant - not one of those fancy, expensive buildings on the upper levels where all the rich people like senators spent their days, but also not so low down it would basically be considered a gang hang-out.

The lights were barely bright enough to be able to look around clearly and music was blasting through the speakers hanging on the walls. Troopers from countless battalions were sitting in the booths around them, catching up with each other and sharing jokes and, most importantly, getting drunk. As far as Echo had gathered, most clones came hear should they be on leave on Coruscant.

All in all, it wasn't the worst place he and Fives could have been dragged off to, and Fives at least seemed to enjoy himself, holding a giant glass of moonshine in one hand and gesturing wildy with the other while retelling stories from their ARC-training. Echo could understand looking up to the ARC-troopers, having once done the same. He still couldn't fully believe he actually was one himself now.

He was mostly left alone, though, leaving all the fancy talking and other stuff to his twin. Fives had always been the more outgoing one out of the two of them, and Echo was perfectly fine with that. He didn't really like having conversations with new people in the first place and there was so much stuff going on at the moment that he wasn't sure if he would have been able to without having a panic attack or something similar.

It wasn't that Echo didn't appreciate being apart of the 501st or spending time with them because he did! Really! He was grateful to even have made it that far, but... Hevy, Cutup, and Droidbait were gone and so many yound vode had been lost in the attack on Kamino and Ninety-Nine was dead and somehow, Echo was amongst the ones who had survived.

He had survived and he was sitting in a bar that would in no way would have been approved by the Kaminoans.

A bar that was currently being entered by none other than Captain Rex.

Echo immediately tried to make himself as small as possible, which wasn't very effective, considering he was still wearing his entire uniform aside from his helmet. Alarm bells went off somewhere in his brain at the realization that his superior could see him in this situation, sitting on a barstool with a glass of fancy alcohol placed on the counter in front of him. But maybe, for once in his life, luck would be with him and Captain Rex would ignore them.

And then Fives decided he needed even more attention on him. "Didn't know the Captain was capable of relaxing," he said. It might have been intended to be only heard by the few vode sitting at the bar with the two of them but the alcohol in Fives's system had apparently absolutely destroyed his ability to regulate the volume of his voice, so he basically shouted it throughout the bar.

Echo's head snapped over to Fives, eyes almost falling out of his head as he hissed his twin brother's name.

Mixer, whose chair was right next to Fives's, mumbled something along the lines of Trooper's got balls and gave Fives a heavy pat on the back.

"Not even here for a week and already bullying Rex'ika," Appo said and chuckled into his drink.

Meanwhile, Echo desperately tried to convince himself that the footsteps he heard coming towards them wasn't the Captain, pulling his shoulders up to his ears and hunching over his own drink.

Fives, the kriffing bastard, just turned around and leaned back on his elbows placed on the counter top. Echo watched from the corner of his eye as he raised an eyebrow at Captain Rex, an infuriating grin on his face. "Something the matter, Captain?" Oh, they were so dead.

Captain Rex... laughed. "Knew you'd fit right in with the 501st," he said and then his footsteps retreated again.

Wearing a puzzled expression, Echo turned to Fives who just shrugged at him before going back to getting absolutely wasted.

____________________

Rex sat down next to Wolffe in the booth he and a few other vode from the 104th had claimed for themselves and promptly took a sip of Wolffe's drink and immediately grimaced. Moonshine probably, judging from the way it tasted like someone had died in it and smelled so strongly of alcohol, it almost made Rex's nose fall off.

"I was going to drink that, you know?" Wolffe said and gave him a deadpan stare. Rex didn't know if it was just his imagination or if the ori'vod stare had somehow grown stronger. Maybe it was the prosthetic eye. Still had nothing on Fox's, though.

"Go ahead, I won't stop you," Rex responded and slid the glass back over to his brother. "I still don't understand why anyone would drink that voluntarily."

"And I don't understand how anyone could have a crush on Skywalker."

Rex froze while Comet started snickering in the back ground. "Who told you that?"

"Who do you think did?" Wolffe shot back, his tone of voice amused. The fucker was enjoying Rex's suffering. "Kote's a giant gossip."

"Not like he's any better," Rex grumbled. Comet fucking giggled. A fully grown clone. And he was giggling. And to think Rex used to be afraid of the older clones.

"How many are that now?" Sinker asked, grinning.

Rex raised an eyebrow. "How many of what?"

Boost placed his elbows on the table and leaned forwards. "Clones who are in love with their Generals. We've got Bly, Gree, Fox, you, and apparently Cody too."

Rex frowned. That was... something. Bly had been pretty obvious, telling everyone how great he though General Secura was at any given moment. Gree wasn't too surprising, General Unduli was pretty awesome. And...

"Wait, hold on. Did you say Fox?"

"Yep," Boost.

"The Coruscant Guard doesn't even have a General. How does that work?" Rex asked, his confusion bleeding into his voice.

"They don't have a General, but they have Vos."

"What the fuck is a Vos?"

"Quinlan Vos is a jetti, vod'ika," Comet explained, having finally stopped laughing at his misery. "He's a shadow or whatever they call it. Means he does lots of undercover stuff, occasionally also with the Corrie Guard."

"He also trained General Secura," Wolffe added and took a sip of his drink.

"And how do you know that?" Boost asked.

"I was deployed with Bly a few weeks ago," he answered like it would explain everything which... okay, it kind of did.

"And Fox has a crush on him?" There was a disbelieving look on Rex's face. "Are you sure we are talking about the same Fox?"

Comet started laughing again and Sinker smiled. "Yep. But let's get back to our orignial conversation because I don't think we've bullied Rex enough yet."

"This is why I don't like hanging out with you," Rex groaned and took another sip out of Wolffe's glass purely out of spite.

Chapter Text

For all that Jedi were supposed to be keepers of peace, Anakin - or any other Jedi right now - wasn't sent on peaceful missions very often. Which meant basically never. The only exception might have been Obi-Wan but then again, the man's nickname was Negotiator. He could probably manage to turn the most gruesome battle known to mankind into a tea party. (A real tea party. Not like the one Anakin had thrown when he had been 11 where he had invited almost the entire temple and only three of those guests had actually showed up: Obi-Wan, Quinlan, and Aayla.)

Unfortunately, the negation skills seemed to be one of the few things even being raised by Obi-Wan couldn't help him master (along with brewing tea properly and ironing clothes).

Even more unfortunately was the fact that Anakin and Rex had been assigned a mission where he needed to do just that. Some neutral planet had decided they wanted to join the Republic and apparently a Jedi had to be there to sign the treaty or whatever it was. Originally, Padmé had been supposed to come with them, but something had stopped her from actually joining them and for some reason, the Senate hadn't bothered to send a replacement.

Kirash was actually a fairly beautiful planet, its surface covered in mostly forests or mountain ranges. Its people were pretty much standard humans, aside from the giant pairs of feathery wings that grew out of their backs. Their houses were built high up in the tall trees and honestly, Anakin was kind of jealous of them for being able to just fly from house to house and not having to climb thousands of stairs anytime they wanted to visit their neighbours.

While there was some sort of ancient royalty living on Kirash, their form of government was more like a democracy with Queen Cinta Maroja being more akin to some sort of Chancellor.

As far as Anakin had understood, their plan was to meet up with the Queen, have a fancy dinner together, go sleep in what would hopefully be a comfortable bed, and then get the required documents and stuff signed the next morning so they could be back on the Resolute before midday. After all, they still had a war to fight.

The people of Kirash also thought a lot of fashion, meaning anyone who even wanted to have a chance of setting foot on the planet would have to look nothing short of impeccable. Thankfully, Padmé had helped Anakin and Rex find proper clothing despite not being able to show up, because when it came to fashion, Anakin was a lost cause.

Padmé had dug a black dress out of her closet for him. It went from somewhere beneath his collarbones all the way down to his ankles, see-through fabric connected to it to cover his arms but leave his shoulders exposed. While Anakin clearly didn't have enough breast to wear it properly, it still looked pretty good on him. Or at least Padmé thought so. ("It makes me look like a whore." "Not everyone has to wear robes thicker than the pollution in the air on Coruscant, Ani. Now do a twirl.")

She had also given him a pair of high heels higher than the towers of the Jedi Temple. When asked if he couldn't wear something he would actually be able to walk in, she had responded with It would ruin the aesthetic.

Anakin didn't know how a pair of shoes could ruin the aesthetic of an outfit that included more golden jewellery than he had ever seen a single person wear - he'd gotten his earlobes pierced for this -, but he would trust Padmé's judgement.

He was trying to put the many necklaces around his neck in a way that wouldn't make them choke him should he take a wrong step when a specific Force signature making their way towards his quarters caught his attention.

Not that Anakin paid more attention to Rex's Force signature than to anyone else's. (He totally did.)

Anakin opened the door before Rex had even knocked. Rex just blinked at him and murmured something under his breath in a language Anakin didn't understand - Mando'a, Obi-Wan had said.

Their outfits were practically the same, the only differences the colour of Rex's dress - something close to 501st Blue - and the silver jewellery. He looked good, Anakin privately thought, and then he said it out loud because he was an idiot.

Rex looked away from him, tilting his head down and Anakin silently mourned the fact that he wasn't able to see his eyes anymore because they were very pretty and if the light hit them from a certain angle, they were almost golden and woah, this crushing was getting out of control.

"Thank you," Rex said, his voice strangely quiet. Then he looked up again, taking in Anakin's appearance. "You don't look so bad yourself."

He awkwardly cleared his throat and hoped the blush covering his cheeks wasn't as obvious as he thought it was while trying to think of something in response.

In the end, what came out of his mouth was "Of course I look good", and when he realized that sounded weird, he added "Padmé picked it out" to his statement.

Rex nodded and suddenly, a silence that was somewhere on the line between comfortable and uncomfortable settled over them. Anakin didn't know if he wanted the intense eye contact between the two of them to keep going forever or if he wanted it to stop entirely. Maybe it was one of those situation where either outcomes would leave you longing for the other one.

Eventually, Rex looked away to let his gaze sweep over the rest of the room. "Do you need help with that?" he asked and gestured to the necklaces on Anakin's desk.

"Yeah, thanks," he said and handed them over.

A few "accidental" brushes of fingertips against the back of his neck while putting on the necklaces later, Anakin and Rex left Ahsoka in the care of their troopers. Which was basically asking for a disaster to happen, but that was a problem for future-Anakin.

Present-Anakin was focused on making sure he wasn't staring too much at Rex as the two of them sat in the shuttle on their way towards the planet's surface. In his defense, Rex looked unfairly distracting, even more so than usual. Anakin kind of wanted to cry at how beautiful he looked.

"You and Senator Amidala are pretty close," Rex said and Anakin finally stopped glancing at his exposed collarbones every other second in favor of making eye contact.

"I'd say Padmé's one of my best friends, yeah," he told him and Rex seemed almost... relieved at that, for some reason. His posture was still a bit tense, though. "You okay, Rex?"

"I think so, yes. Just not used to going somewhere without any weapons on hand, I guess."

Anakin could understand that. Ever since this war had started, he had basically slept with his lightsaber in his hand and leaving it behind on the Resolute was kinda weird. But this whole operation was supposed to be a peaceful discussion, no weapons required.

"Don't worry," he said. "If shit hits the fan, I'll save us with my glorious Force abilities."

Rex wore a deadpan expression that would have rivaled Master Windu's when he responded, "That makes me feel so much safer."

"Hey!" Anakin squawked just as Hawk landed their shuttle.

____________________

Cinta Meroja was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women Rex had ever laid his eyes upon. Not that he had had much time to admire beautiful women very often since being deployed. Or that he was romantically interested in women.

Queen Meroja's auburn hair fell in perfect waves down her back, half of it tied up in complicated yet elegant braids. The whole hairstyle was adorned with expensive-looking pearls that matched the ones hung around her neck in three rows.

The white dress she wore made her appear as if she was supposed to be a statue in a museum displaying regal clothing of royal families long dead. The back of it was cut out to make room for the giant pair of wings sproutinc ouf of it, the feathers just as white.

She wore no jewellery aside from her necklace, but something about her that wasn't her extravagant wardrobe just gave her an air of importance. Maybe it was in her posture. The way her confidence seemed to fill out the entire room although she had done nothing but stand up from the chair in her office and welcome them.

Rex felt almost small in comparison to her even though they were pretty much the same height.

He stood to the side and watched as Skywalker approached her and took her hand in his gloved one to press a kiss to it. "It's a pleasure to be here, Your Majesty," he said. "I am Anakin Skywalker and that is my companion Rex."

The Queen raised one of her perfect eybrows at the word companion and let her gaze settle onto Rex. He stood up even straighter as her eyes flickered up and down his body, something akin to humor twinkling inside of them.

"I see," she drawled before turning back to Skywalker and sending him a smile as sweet as sugar. "Well, we'll have to rearrange your housing for the night accordingly, won't we?"

"It's a shame Senator Amidala couldn't make it today, yes," Skywalker said, apparently entirely oblivious to the undertone in the Queen's voice Rex could so clearly hear.

"Of course, I would have loved to meet her," she agreed, her voice almost reverent. "I've heard only good things about her. I'm sure it would have been delightful to have a conversation with her in person."

"I'll make sure to tell her of your high praise the next time I see her."

That seemed to bring the Queen out of whatever trance she had fallen into. "Enough formalities, don't you think?" She clasped her hands together and her wings spread out a bit. "You must be hungry. Please, come along; We've prepared nothing but the best for you arrival."

Chapter Text

Sitting in the dining hall he and Rex had been led to, Anakin tried desperately not to show how very out of place he felt in the presence of Queen Meroja and her consorts.

Apparently it was a common trait for all people here to be extremely beautiful, but maybe it was just really hard to not seem that way when you had giant wings that made all of your movements look much more graceful.

Anakin hoped they weren't offended or anything that the Jedi that had been sent to them didn't know a single thing about how to be graceful. Despite being taller than most of the people, Anakin somehow felt incredibly small in their presence. They basically radiated confidence, and he woulf have stumbled on every second step he had taken had he not been able to steady himself with the Force.

Rex on the other hand fared much better. Sure, his Force presence was kind of panicky (not that Anakin could sense much of it - who taught him to shield like that?), but his posture was as immaculate as ever, somehow managing to not cross the fine line of drawing attention to himself and blending in perfectly with his surroundings.

Force, he was so perfect. And so far out of reach for Anakin he might as well be somewhere in Wild Space.

He tried not to think too much about it, instead taking a sip from his glass full of very expensive alcohol.

One of the Queen's advisors whose name Anakin could not remember was telling a story about what were probably their ancestors, but he had stopped paying attention to them the moment Rex had started whispering with the person next to him, exchanging smiles with them.

Anakin couldn't even bring himself to pretend to listen the advisor. It was late and he had had more than a few glasses of wine and Rex looked so pretty when he smiled.

Queen Meroja didn't even seem to blame him. When she caught his eyes, she sent him a teasing smirk and raised her own glass to her perfectly painted lips.

So she definitely knew Anakin liked Rex. Was he really that obvious that a random stranger could just read him like an open book?

____________________

If you looked past the fact that they were involved in politics, Avlin Tardun was actually someone Rex liked being around. They had sent him a friendly smile when he had sat down next to them at the table. When they had realized that Rex was completely lost, they had leaned over to him and had quietly told him to try the Krakian Nuruodos, small tarts that tasted a bit like an olive had had a child with a cherry and had then doused said child in caramel.

Surprisingly, Rex didn't find them absolutely terrible. Perhaps not as galactic bombastic as Avlin had decribed them to be but definitely not bad.

Another thing that made Avlin likeable was the fact that they shared a sense of humor.

Somewhere between Rex finishing his first glass of wine and Avlin starting to sip on their third, they had turned their chair to face him properly and had begun to make little comments to him about whatever story was being told. Genuinely funny comments.

Rex figured there was no reason he shouldn't allow himself to smile at them. After all, this wasn't a military interrogation or something similar, so why bother putting on a poker face if they he was supposed to be friendly to the people here anyway?

It was during one of those little comments that Avlin placed one of their hands on his shoulder to refrain from falling out of their chair while trying to keep their giggles silent.

It was clear that they had had a few too many drinks tonight and Rex could smell the alcohol in their breath when they swayed into his direction. He put his own hand on Avlin's shoulder to steady them.

A glass shattered.

Rex immediately turned to where he had heard the sound come from, his muscles becoming tense.

An eerie silence had settled and all eyes were fixed on Skywalker. Who held a shattered wine glass in his right hands, the rest of its contents dripping into the ridges of his mechanical hand.

Rex could tell by his expression that he had definitely not been expecting that to happen, the panic in his eyes evident.

It didn't fit him. Anakin's plans more often than not uncluded lots of improvising. Where Rex had backup plans for his backup plans, Anakin just winged it, somehow managing to stay calm during all of it. Seeing him in distress just felt wrong.

"It is getting a bit late," Queen Meroja said and, once again, drew everyone's attention to herself.

Well, everyone's attention aside from Rex's, whose eyes were still locked onto Anakin.

"Perhaps it is time that we all retire for the night, no?" she continued with a gentle smile. "Avlin, would you be so kind and show our guests to their room?"

Avlin, who had suddenly gotten extraordinarily good at hiding their drunkness, rose to their feet, not swaying or stumbling in the slightest. "Of course, milady," they said and looked at Anakin and Rex expectantly.

Rex immediately hurried over to Anakin and handed him a napkin because he still hadn't moved. He at least took the napkin from Rex, more out of reflex than anything.

When Rex put a hand on his shoulder, Anakin finally snapped out of it and stood up from his chair. Rex kept his hand where it was out of fear he might trip.

Avlin smiled at them and the two of them followed them out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Rex leaned into Anakin's side to whisper an Are you okay? into his ear without the third member of their group hearing it.

"I think I'm drunk," Anakin answered and, as if to underline his statement, promptly tripped over his own feet. Rex moved his arm from around his shoulders to around his waist to help him stay upright. Anakin shuddered a bit as Rex's hand was placed on his side, but when Rex went to remove it, he put his own hand on top of it to keep it there.

Rex couldn't deny that it felt weirdly right to have Anakin at his side like that.

Avlin led them through a hallway until they reached a tall set of doors with artful carvings of flower etched into the wood.

"All the things you brought with you are already in there," they said. "Towels are in the cupboard in the bathroom behind the door on the left. Should you need anything else, I'm just down this corridor, feel free to wake me up anytime."

Rex gave them a nod and watched their back - or much more the wings on their back - as they sauntered down the hall.

"Do you like them?" Anakin asked suddenly.

Rex shrugged as best as he could with only one of his shoulder being able to move fully. "They're nice."

All he got back was a noncommital hum, so he figured it would be arlight for him to open the door and step inside.

A large, comfortable-looking bed was pushed up against the right wall, a giant window through which the surprisingly bright moonlight filtered into the room right behind it.

Rex's gaze rested on the bed. The singular one. So that's why the Queen kept on looking like that when referring to them as companions. Maybe the people on Kirash weren't as good at reading others as he had originally thought because there was no way he and Anakin acted nothing like a couple. Even if Rex sometimes wished they would.

"You alright with sharing a bed?" he asked his sadly not-boyfriend.

"Yeah, that's cool," Anakin said and suddenly, Rex's vision was filled with a head full of dirty blond hair. The moonlight from the window made it seem as if there was a halo around his head and fuck, he looked so beautiful.

"Has anyone ever told you that your lips look really kissable?" Anakin continued and took a step closer so that their chests were almost pressed together.

"What?" Rex whispered and tried to meet his gaze only to find that his eyes were in fact focused on the lower half of Rex's face.

"I really wanna kiss you," he said and moved his arms up slowly and let his forearms rest on Rex's shoulders, his fingertips dancing over the back of his neck. "Can I kiss you, Rex?"

Rex had not kissed anyone before. Never. Privately, he had always thought that something like romance or being in a relationship was something for after the war - if there ever was an after for him.

That opinion had kind of changed once he had started thinking of doing things with Anakin that totally went above things that friend did whenever he saw the other man's smile, but even then he had known that it would be impossible.

But suddenly it wasn't impossible anymore. It was happening right now and Rex wanted to say yes, wanted to wrap his arms around Anakin and hold him close, wanted to spend all of his days with him, wanted to every little thing about him Anakin would be willing to tell him. And it could all be so easy right here, but-

"You're drunk," Rex reminded Anakin who let out a whine and pressed his face into Rex's neck. His hair radiated that specific green aple shampoo smell Rex had always hated back on Kamino but had started to love once Anakin had began using it.

"Anakin," he murmured, his voice more desperate than it had ever been because it wasn't like he was going to let his friend do anything he would regret once he sobered up again, but also because having Anakin so close was like heaven on earth and torture at the same time.

Anakin hummed against his throat and that did not help him think at all.

Rex placed his hands on Anakin's cheeks to guide his head away from his neck so that they could make proper eye contact. Staring into his watercolour eyes didn't actually improve all the things Rex was feeling, but it also didn't make them worse so it was okay for now.

Anakin pulled him into a mirshmure'cya, probably not even realizing what it meant to Rex who had closed his eyes as soon as their foreheads had touched together.

For a while, they just stood there like that, and slowly, very slowly, Rex breathed out all the tension that had started to climb into his muscles and let himself relax, let himself pretend he wasn't being selfish for enjoying this as much as he did.

"How about a deal?" Rex eventually asked and Anakin pulled away to nod. "You'll get your kiss tomorrow if you go to bed now."

Perhaps it was a bit rude of him to talk to Anakin like he was a child, but he had to admit that it was pretty hilarious when Anakin fell face first onto the carpet in front of their bed in his haste to comply.

Chapter Text

The first thing that Anakin's brain registered when he woke up was that the mattress he was lying on might as well be a marshmallow with how soft it was. He had sunken deep into the material beneath him and after sleeping on the rock he called his usual bed, it was like laying on a giant ball of cotton. Or a cloud, which was basically the same thing anyway.

The second thing he noted were the sunbeams that tickled his face, pleasantly warm like you could wrap them around yourself and stay cozy forever.

The third thing he sensed was the pounding behind his temples. It felt like someone had stuck their hands into his skull and was now violently shaking his brain from side to side. Safe to say that ruined the otherwise peaceful atmosphere.

Anakin groaned and rolled over onto his stomach to press his face into a pillow. Being drunk was fun, having a giant hangover not so much.

Being drunk.... shit.

Memories of last night came rushing into his mind and maybe if he tried hard enough, Anakin would be eaten by the marshmallow-cloud-bed. How could one single person fuck up so bad?

Breaking a wine glass that probably cost more than his kidneys, accidentally tearing the dress Padmé had lent him while trying to get out of it... asking Rex for a kiss. Anakin Skywalker was a disaster.

You'll get your kiss tomorrow if you go to bed now.

Anakin didn't think that Rex had ever lied to him about anything. He always kept his word and Anakin trusted him with his life. So what if....

No. Surely Rex hadn't actually meant that. It was something said to a child to get them to stop being annoying.

Still, a part of his brain lit up with yes-truth-happy at the thought of him and Rex being... a thing. A part that felt suspiciously close to how Anakin's connection with the Living Force felt.

He wasn't proud to admit it, but he hadn't really been listening the Force recently. There had been so much stuff going on that he just hadn't found the time to do it properly.

His connection to the Force was difficult to describe. Sometimes it was like there was a whole second person living inside of his head, wanting to keep him safe and sound and pointing him in the right direction more often than not. But it wasn't a person, it wasn't anything, it just was. Anakin didn't know how else it was supposed to feel, but apparently it wasn't like that for other Jedi.

He had tried to explain it to them before, but none of them ever truly understood what he meant. Not even Obi-Wan, though he never gave Anakin the weird looks he received from other when he talked about it.

Guess that's what you got for being The Chosen One.

Now, Anakin knew he was most definitely not a perfect Jedi and he probably wouldn't ever be, no matter how hard he would try. But following the will of the Force was a Jedi's main purpose in life, so, really, who was he to not listen to the voice in his head?

What would ignoring a few more rules of the Order do? They couldn't just throw out the guy who was supposed to bring balance to the Force, right?

Back on Tatooine, he wouldn't have dared to think like that. He would have done what was asked of him without question and would have gone to sleep afraid of what would happen tomorrow and if he did good enough.

He wasn't on Tatooine anymore, though. And he was tired of being afraid.

____________________

Rex usually got up early. Partially because that was what the Kaminoans had drilled into all of them, partially because more thing could get done in one day, and partially because he enjoyed watching the sun(s) rise whenevet they were planet side.

Well, safe to say that alcohol could kill even the strongest early bird. Not that Rex had drunken a lot of it last night. Maybe the sun-moon cycle on Kirash just worked differently. There was no real other explanation as to why, when Rex woke up, the sun had already climbed halfway up the horizon.

The matress and pillows beneath him were softer than anything Rex had ever lain on. It had taken him a good amount of time to fall asleep because of the unknown feeling of it under his back.

Some rustling next to him made Rex open his eyes. He turned his head and found Anakin lying on his side, head propped up on his left hand. His hair was a mess and Rex couldn't tell whether the circles under his eyes were smudged mascara or if he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.

"Hey," Anakin mumbled and the corners of his eyes crinkled as his lips turned upwards.

"Hey," Rex whispered back, his eyes roaming over Anakin's face, lingering on the scar that barely missed his eye. "Why are we whispering?"

Anakin shrugged as best as he could from his position. "Why not?" he shot back. "Feels like a whispering moment to me."

Rex let out a quiet chuckle. "Not the strangest thing I've ever heard you say."

"I don't think I like it when you're giving me backhanded compliments," Anakin said with a fake pout. Then his smile turned into a somewhat mischievous grin. "And besides, I'm not the only one saying strange things."

Of course he would be one of those people that remembered everything that had happened when they had been drunk. Which was cool. Totally cool. At least it would make Rex forget his delusions about the things he felt towards Anakin being mutual.

He turned to look at the ceiling because it was easier to tell himself - and Anakin - that what he had said wasn't true if he didn't have to stare at Anakin's face with his eyes as blue as the ocean on Kamino on a sunny day and his hair tousled like that.

"I don't know why I said that," Rex admitted. It wasn't a complete lie, at least. "I- I don't know. I'm sorry."

Suddenly, something cold was placed on his chin. Rex only recognized it as Anakin's right hand when he used it to turn his head back towards him, forcing them lock eyes.

"Don't be," Anakin murmured and Rex didn't know how to respond for that, so he just opted for an eloquent "what".

"Did you mean it?" Anakin asked and his grin morphed into a soft smile.

Rex fought the urge to just respond with what again, if only so he wouldn't have to answer the question right now.

He could either say and possibly ruin their future friendship, or he could say no and just straight up lie to Anakin's face which he didn't necessarily want to do.

Apparently, his inner depating took to long for Anakin's liking because he started moving, and then he was sitting on top of Rex and leaning down so that their noses were almost touching, his hands placed somewhere next to Rex's head, his body weight pressing Rex's hips deeper into the matress.

Rex could have probably pushed him off, but he found that he didn't really want to. Not with the way his heart was hammering in his chest and the way their eyes were still locked together.

"Tell me to go away," Anakin whispered.

"Don't," Rex breathed and hesitanly brought his hands up to place them on Anakin's waist.

Anakin leaned down even further. Rex let his eyes slip close and not even a second later, Anakin's lips touched his.

Rex didn't know how kisses were supposed to feel, but he privately thought that if they didn't always feel like this, he didn't want to get any more of them. It was like nothing he'd experienced before, sweet and warm and over all too soon, leaving Rex to crave more of it.

When he opened his eyes again, Anakin was breathing heavily with the biggest smile Rex had ever seen anyone wear on his face. "Cool?" he asked and of course his vocabulary would be as elegant as ever in a moment like this.

Rex snorted out a laugh. "Very cool," he agreed and pressed himself up on his elbows to give him another kiss, just because he could.