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The early years of Rex’s life can be condensed into two categories:
- Government sanctioned human experimentation.
- Meeting Eve.
He doesn’t enjoy thinking about the former, still wary of sedatives, medical instruments and their ilk. Therefore with questions regarding his childhood, he typically talks about the woman who pulled him off the path of accidental villainy.
“Okay,” Mark is saying, voice slurred thanks to copious amounts of alcohol, “but you’re sure you’re cool with it?”
“Mark,” Rex says, though he’s starting to feel a little tipsy himself, “I fucked up whatever chances I had at a relationship with her a week into knowing you. Don’t know why you’re asking me for permission.”
They’re holed up in some mildly suspicious empty hallway in Guardian headquarters, passing a bottle Rex nicked from the old man’s private stash. Rex didn’t even know Mark could get drunk, alien biology shit and all, but he’s leaning all heavy on Rex’s shoulder regardless.
“‘Cause, y’know,” Mark hiccups, his entire frame jolting with it, “you’re my friend. You’ve changed. Eve’s already started forgiving you, so…”
“If you think she’d ever pick a guy like me over someone like you,” Rex snorts, “you’ve taken more brain damage than I thought.”
Mark props himself up a little, and whacks Rex’s arm surprisingly gently. “‘S not what I’m saying, Eve ‘n I have already talked. I just- I wanted to see how you were doing.”
Ah, so that’s how it is. Rex doesn’t mind pity every now and then, especially from the higher ups— a day off from being called into battle with who knows what is worth more than its weight in gold. But from people he cares about, his friends? He frowns, shakes his head.
“I’m great,” he says, “Amazing, stupendous… insert a verb you wanna use.”
“Adjective,” Mark says.
Rex flips him off. “Dude, whatever.”
He wasn’t depressed.
Back when he and Eve were first hired, Cecil and his goons ran some sort of mental testing. Eve passed with flying colors, like with everything else she did in life, and shooed Rex in after her as if expecting him to bolt. Depression, the doctors had said, and some sort of guilt complex. Rex was far too busy trying to edge away from the sharp tools laid out on a trolley to care.
Afterwards, Eve took him out for dinner, because she was nice like that. Dragged him by the collar to a rundown Burger-Mart, chattering on about some of her chemistry classes while ordering for them both. She smelled of bottled artificial cherries and mint, leaned across the booth close enough that Rex can feel the heat radiating off her skin.
“Found someplace to stay yet?” Eve asked, eyes bright with curiosity.
Rex hadn’t even begun looking. He liked Eve’s room, with its pink walls that matched her suit, and the soft give of green blankets on the old bed. He liked that sometimes she’d come and sleep next to him on the floor, curl up into his sleeping bag or drag him up to join her on the mattress.
His own apartment would be exactly that— Rex’s, singular.
“I dunno,” he sighed, “not many folks around who want to sell to a teenager. Especially one with my kind of background.”
Eve wore her heart on her sleeve. He watched her expression crumple with sympathy, and for the first time he didn’t feel embarrassed at the concept. Let her reach across the table, take one of his hands between her own. They both ran warm so there’s no contrast, but he’s sure he’d boiled even hotter somehow.
“I only ask because it must be shitty,” she said, “having to sneak into my house at night. And I know you just hang around at the library or the mall when you’re not with the team.”
He wanted to sound pissed, but he’s more flattered. She cared about him, not in an artificial way, and it made him want to stay. “You're stalking me now, Red?”
“No,” Eve grumbled, managing to look pissed off while drinking a bright pink milkshake. “I’m strategically watching over the locations of my teammates. You aren’t special.”
“Uh huh? You take Robot out to lunch too? Should I be wondering if Kate is one of your sleepover buddies?” He shouldn’t tease, but it’s in his nature.
Eve’s cheeks reddened, her large hooped earrings clinking together as she shook her head. “Well… we haven’t really talked about since that night but- y’know, we’re official, right?”
Official. Right, he’d spoken all that in front of Erikson. They’d made out a couple times, sure, but never really talked about the comment Rex made.
( “All I need is my girlfriend!” )
“Yeah,” Rex said, and his face must be flushed too. “We are, if you wanna be?”
“I do,” Eve said with a big self-satisfied grin, and leaned over the table properly to kiss him.
“Alright, but before that! Was it really all smooth sailing right from the start?” Mark asks, leaning against Rex’s side again and fiddling with the fabric of his sweater.
He’d stolen it from Mark, funnily enough, when they’d been goofing off in the public showers after a mission. Mark was shit at laundry, his mum out of town, and Rex knew some menial tasks.
The other man hadn’t ever asked for it back, and Rex wouldn’t have returned it even if he begged. A piece of the great ‘Invincible’ he gets to keep for himself.
It’s only weird if he makes it weird. So he doesn’t.
“Yeah, surprising, I know,” Rex says, reaching errantly with a hand to curl his fingers into the ends of Mark’s rapidly growing hair. “I was kind of a conceited jackass, but Eve was always kind to me. Eventually, I fell in line. ”
“Of course you did.”
“Oi, you’re telling me you wouldn’t fold if she batted her eyelashes and said please?”
“It’s only funny ‘cause it’s you, dummy. Everyone’d expect that type of attitude from me anyways.”
“Obedience? You her dog or her boyfriend?”
“Whatever she wants me to be, man.”
Teen Team was a mess, and Rex didn’t even have to be overly pessimistic to pick up on it.
With only four members, two being himself and Eve — shit shouldn’t have hit the fan that quickly. But they were literally getting ordered around by an orange stormtrooper with attitude problems, and teamed up with a girl named Kate who Rex found himself unconsciously picking fights with. And most importantly, none of them were good at working together.
Eve needed constant cover to keep her barriers up, Kate’s clones were killed nearly just as quickly as she generated them, and Robot talked. A lot. Sometimes he had a gun or some other sort of high tech gadget, but most of the time he just yelled at Rex. Which was all fine and good, he’d perfected the art of tuning out his superiors, except the bag of bolts was sometimes right.
“I thought you were going to get killed out there!” Eve scolded, though her warm brown eyes were filled with concern. “Rex, you need to be more careful on the field.”
“I was careful,” he replied, trying not to wince as she set his shoulder back in place with a snap. “Not my fault those lizards came out of nowhere, and Voltron over there was too busy reprogramming to warn you.”
She could lecture him to her heart's content. Nothing could compare to the way his heart had sank just an hour earlier, watching Eve’s shields shatter as she went down under a hoard of reptiles. He hadn’t really processed it until then, that powerful as she may be… Eve was mortal, human.
“Rex,” Eve said, dropped her hands to his forearms. “I made a mistake out there, okay? I have to get myself out of it. Putting any of you guys in danger too is the last thing I want.”
I think I’d die without you. Alone. The world isn’t meant for a fuckup with a criminal record longer than his resume.
“Fuck no!” Rex said firmly. ”I don’t care. You’re the most important person in my life, and I won’t stand by and watch you get hurt.”
He’s not great with words, jokes come somewhat easier. But Eve gets all teary on him, so he must’ve fucked up extra awful.
Eve pulled him into a hug, cried a damp patch into the front of his damaged uniform. “I love you too, idiot. Stay safe for me.”
They’ve moved to the couch in an empty common room, where the hearth flickers in front of them. Night has fallen, rain pelting the windows from the outside. Winter is disgusting and cold and the worst thing that graces America on the regular, Rex hates how temperature fluctuations mess with his explosions. Mark for some reason, disregards their previously set heterosexual distance rule, and curls closer into Rex’s side.
Mark yawns, stretches out an arm and drapes it against Rex’s back. “Think I’m drunk, somehow.”
“No shit,” Rex says, subtly trying to shift toward the other end of the couch. “You should hit the hay and sleep that shit off, unless y’want Cecil to throw a bitchfit tomorrow.”
Dark brown eyes lock into the newly made space between them, and Rex withholds a groan of frustration. Foiled again.
“Do you not like it when I touch you?” Mark asks, and the softness in his features from the drink is gone. “I can stop.”
“That’s not-“ Rex starts, but ends up utterly lost. What is the problem here? Why does he care? He hasn’t had a friend like Mark, not since he first met Eve. Messing up a good thing is his forte though…
“I get it,” Mark says, more subdued. He isn’t looking at Rex anymore, and it bothers him. “I’d be scared of me too. Dad is a space alien overlord, and I could probably kill someone by breathing on ‘em funny.”
Rex sighs. Do and die, or whatever the saying is. “Anyone nervous around you is either stupid, paranoid, or over the age of sixty-five without health insurance. You’re probably the greatest guy I know, and I’ve met a lot of people. Like think about it, so many heroes are totally corrupt assholes. Invincible could take over the planet whenever he damn wanted to, and you don’t.”
It’s like staring down a kicked puppy. Mark perks up halfway through Rex’s dumbass monologue, and by the end has closed the gap all over again. Upper body leaned up on Rex’s bent legs, chin hooked on the top of knees. If there was any potential denial for anything going down, it’s gone.
“You mean that? I’m flattered,” Mark says, but the smug little smile creeping onto his face implies that he’s already quite aware Rex is serious.
He tries not to think about how cold Mark’s hands are, as they loop under his thighs. This is much too casual, and Mark is seeing—
“Eve,” Rex speaks into the shrinking space. “You can’t-”
“Hm? I never said I was the boss, Mark can do whatever he wants.”
Cherries and mint, Eve uses the same scents all these years later. Rex’s neck twinges as he whips around to confirm her appearance, that this isn’t another weirdly realistic dream.
“Hey Eve,” Mark says, all cheer, and Rex frowns. Clearly wasn’t that torn up about things, unless maybe… No, they wouldn’t try to play a trick on him on purpose, that wasn’t either of their styles. “Looks like you were right after all!”
“I always am,” Eve laughs, her presence lighting up the dark room. “You owe me so much chump change, Mark Grayson. And a kiss might be in order too?”
Rex stays quiet, watches as Mark disentangles himself from his body and takes two lopping steps to meet Eve. Her hands on his waist, his in her hair and softly resting by her neck. They look good together, a perfect painting.
When the two of them separate, Eve is the first to approach. She takes a seat in the space Mark left behind, and gestures for Rex to sit properly on the couch. He does, wordlessly for once, and she presses their thighs together.
“It was hard,” Eve says, “watching you crash and burn. I’m still hurt, even if I try not to be. You were my first everything, and I kinda thought we’d stick together forever.”
“I’m sorry,” Rex says in return, but the words taste ashen on his tongue. Like even he can tell how useless the sentiment is. “I miss your room.”
I miss you.
“I’m sure,” she replies, relaxing further into the fabric. Mark wanders back over, sits at Eve’s feet, puts his hands toward the fire. “This might be weird, tell me if it is. Is it wrong that I want to give you another chance?”
His heart skips a beat, then drops like a stone. It’d be so easy to say what he thinks Eve wants to hear. Rex braces his core, says, “If you’d asked me last year, I would’ve begged for it, y’know? But you and Mark are good together, and you’re both my friends. I want you to be happy.”
It’s easy to forget how fast Mark can move, how practiced he is at being human. He drops a kiss to Eve’s cheek, and then his lips are a hair’s breadth from Rex's. The cold is what he processes first, Mark’s breaths somehow misting in the lukewarm room.
“Can I kiss you?” Mark says.
Eve’s hand has migrated to Rex’s own, and she squeezes it gently.
“Yeah,” Rex says, voice caught on something he can’t quite name. “Only if I get Red to myself, next.”
“Greedy,” Mark chides, a grin exposing sharp canines. “However, let it never be said that I’m not open to negotiation.”
“Idiots,” Eve complains, throwing her legs across Rex’s lap. “This is why nobody puts up with you two but me.”