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Mark still wasn’t used to how normal this felt.
It was a Friday night, and for once? There was no possible world-ending crisis, no viltrumite threatening to tear him limb from limb, no broken bones that needed hiding from his mom, no calls from Cecil dragging him out at 3 a.m. for God knows what. Just him, his partners, and the faint smell of overly greasy leftover pizza still clinging to the living room.
He’d never thought this was what he’d be fighting for. Not glory, not for his father, not recognition, just this.
The coffee table was a battlefield. One half-empty pizza box with the crusts Mark had refused to eat pushed to one side, three crumpled napkins, and a soda can Rex had forgotten to finish. The TV flickered with some dumb action movie Rex had picked “for research.” Mark wasn’t exactly sure how Rex was supposed to be learning anything from this shitty low-budget movie when he hadn’t looked at the screen in over twenty minutes.
Because Rex was sprawled. Because, of course, he was. He shifted every few minutes, clearly not satisfied with his position.
"C’mon, Rex, don’t tell me you’re not comfy. Golden Boy makes a decent pillow if you ignore the pointy elbows.” Eve said as she bounced her leg slightly to get his attention.
Mark could only roll his eyes in faux offence. “I have normal elbows.”
“They’re weapons,” Rex muttered as he claimed the entire length of the couch like it was his sovereign territory. Lying sideways with his head planted firmly on Mark’s lap, making a point to avoid his weaponised elbows, and his feet shoved unceremoniously into Eve’s side. His grin was all sharp teeth as he wiggled his toes against her ribs.
Eve groaned, swatting at his ankle. “Rex, I swear to God—”
“Hey! Woah! Don’t blame me for wanting to get closer,” Rex fired back, smug as ever. “We’re supposed to be bonding.”
“Bonding doesn’t mean sticking your socks in my face.”
“They’re totally clean!”
“They are not clean,” she muttered, though she didn’t shove him off. Instead, she leaned into Mark’s shoulder, sighing like she’d accepted her fate of being Rex's glorified footrest.
Mark looked down at both of them, Eve curled against his side, her hair covering half her face, Rex acting like a human cat in his lap, and he couldn't help but laugh quietly under his breath. He could almost pretend that this was easy.
As time slowly ticked by, Rex's squirming came to a stop, and he yawned loudly, stretching an arm so dramatically he almost knocked the half empty soda can off the table. Then he went limp again, lacing his hands behind his head.
“Wake me if something explodes, or you need something to explode,” he murmured, eyes sliding shut. “Or if we’re out of pizza. Same priority.”
“You’re unbelievable,” Eve muttered, though her tone was fond. She adjusted against Mark, letting her fingers brush against his hand, a tiny gesture that grounded him instantly.
Mark swallowed. “He’s kind of like a dog.”
“I heard that,” Rex said without opening his eyes.
“You were practically purring five seconds ago,” Mark teased, flicking Rex’s forehead lightly.
Rex cracked one eye open to grin up at him. “And you didn’t move me. Guess you like it, huh?”
Mark flushed, looking away. Eve laughed softly, the sound vibrating against his shoulder.
Eventually, the movie wound down. Credits rolled, but none of them bothered to move.
“Alright,” Eve said, sitting up a little straighter. “Someone needs to clean up before your mess attracts ants.”
“Not it,” Rex said instantly, raising a lazy hand.
“Not it,” Mark echoed, too slow, earning a betrayed look from Eve.
“You two are children,” she muttered, but she still leaned down to gather napkins with one hand.
Mark caught her wrist gently. “I’ll do it.”
Her brows lifted. “I thought you said not it?”
He shrugged, cheeks pink. “You carried the last mission. The least I can do is carry some trash...”
Rex tilted his head up from Mark’s lap, grinning wolfishly. “Oh my God, you’re so whipped.”
“Shut up,” Mark muttered, standing with the pizza box. He tried not to smile too hard when Eve brushed her fingers over his arm as he passed.
By the time Mark came back from cleaning up in the kitchen, Rex had shifted. Eve had taken his place against the armrest, stretched out with a blanket over her legs. Rex had plopped himself half on top of her, one arm draped across her stomach like he owned the spot.
Mark blinked dumbly. “You. Seriously? You moved her into my spot?”
Rex smirked as he drawled. “First-come, first-served, baby.”
Eve rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to him, there’s plenty of room.” She patted the admittedly small space beside her.
Mark hesitated until Rex reached out with his free hand, catching his wrist and tugging him closer. “C’mon, Golden Boy. Don’t make me beg.”
The words were teasing, sarcastic, but there was a flicker of something softer beneath them. Mark gave in with a huff, letting himself be pulled down until he was wedged between the two of them, again. Eve warm and steady at his back, Rex pressed close against his side.
Rex yawned, his voice muffled as he buried his face in Mark’s shoulder. “See? Perfect. All three of us. Balanced.”
Mark stilled, caught off guard by the honesty in his tone. Eve shifted closer, her hand sliding into his, fingers weaving tight.
For a while, none of them spoke. The room was quiet, except for Rex’s low breathing, Eve’s steady heartbeat thumping slightly against his side, and the hum of the TV still playing in the background.
Mark closed his eyes. He wasn’t Invincible here, or a weapon, or Omniman's son. He was just…Mark Grayson. In the middle of everything.
And he liked it that way.
Later, when the clock struck midnight, Eve was the first to stir. “We should sleep,” she murmured, running a hand through Rex's hair.
“Already am,” Rex mumbled without lifting his head.
Mark groaned, reluctant to move. “Bed?”
Eve’s eyes narrowed slightly at Mark. “We should invest in a bigger one. Someone, not naming names, keeps almost kicking me out of bed in the middle of the night. ”
Between the three of them, it took them far too long to actually get up. Blankets tangled, limbs reluctant to separate, desperate to maintain the physical closeness they all seemed to be so deprived of. Eventually, they shuffled down the hall together. Rex kept an arm slung around both their shoulders, humming a song from the earlier movie painfully off-key. Eve shook her head, Mark rolled his eyes, but neither pulled away.
The world outside could be chaos. Tomorrow could bring blood, bruises, and impossible choices. But tonight, there was only pizza crusts, bad movies,warmth pressed close on either side. And Mark, in the middle, loving every disguntingly domestic second of it.