a/n: anakin and rex dance + name discussions. some headcanons on slave culture borrowed from fialleril. in response to a prompt from an ask post from @barissoffee
The moonlight smoothens the ridges and the uneven parts of the rocky grounds. The wind is almost still, the campfire dances gently over the wooden logs scavenged from the green trees. Its warm light outlines the tents and the equipment neatly tucked away behind the tent. Rex watches silently as the stars dots across the skies like glittery specks of sparkles. He still had not removed his armor, he sits on one of the logs surrounding the fire. He watches, completely enamored by the stars. His mouth gapes a little as his eyes widens with amazement and curiosity.
Snow begins to fall, white flakes dancing from the depths of the clouds that had not quite obscured the view of the stars. Rex does not move at all as bits of the snow falls onto his warm palms, quickly melting away into beads of water. The fire crackles as he turns his head. His general stands, his luscious honey-brown locks framing his face as Rex momentarily freezes in the spot. A moment of silence passes between them as the General walks towards him.
Rex’s smoky brown orbs locks with his beautiful ocean blue; it pulls him into the depths of the young man’s soul. He knows that his General wore his heart on his sleeve, reading his emotions were surprisingly easy. It is often frowned down by the Jedi, but he is one of the few Jedi who actually seemed to care. He is dumbfounded at the small quirk of a lip he received. Rex stands as his face turns red. He feels the urge to just walk away but he can’t. His heart skips a beat as his skin brushes with his tunic.
“General Skywalker, shouldn’t you be asleep?” Rex asks, as he feels his shoulders sag as he sits back down.
Anakin follows suit, his gaze shifted elsewhere, “Yeah, but, didn’t feel sleepy,”
Rex thinks for a moment, his fingers running through his blonde hair. He watches his General thoughtlessly pick at the glove that covers his prosthetic. The snow continues to fall as flakes begin to cover the ground like a thin blanket, the white powdery substance easily slips away in his palms. Rex has always wanted to tell him that he has pretty eyes. He stares into the blue orbs that stood out in the darkness as his face is illuminated dully by the fire.
Anakin abruptly stands, his hand reaching out for him. Anakin’s face lit up by an awkward smile, his flesh arm tangles into his hair, as Rex looks up. The latter feels his heartbeat quicken, his mouth dries. He stares into his beautiful eyes, his mind fuzzes out whenever he tries to form a coherent sentence. After a moment of silence, Anakin exhales softly as his flesh arm lowers, “Y-you want to dance?”
Rex pauses for a moment, mulling over his options. He knows this is against military regulations. However, it is his General asking. His brave, courageous, kind-hearted, beautiful General asking, his blue eyes looks so hopeful. He feels guilty about even thinking about refusing. Another part of him wants to do it, he wants to throw his arms around him and embrace him like there was no tomorrow - he wants to kiss him. Rex flushes, his ears twinged with dark red. Anakin’s gaze is so expectant and hopeful, the clone sighs as the conflict within him dissolves.
“Yes,” he whispers softly. There was no one to see him like this, right?
Rex notices how young his General is - the boyish slenderness has never really left - he knew there are kids in this war zone. Padawans, most barely over younglings, are thrown into the mess of the war. They are given the position of Commander and a responsibility more than what their scrawny shoulder should hold. The worst part is that they are expected to act the part. Commander Tano is one of them. It is a miracle that she is as stable as she is. However, what he does not expect is that his own General is barely above a padawan. Rex knows that his General was knighted much younger than most padawans. He was 19 when he was officially deemed as a knight.
Rex realizes that he is being led by a shiny Jedi.
He shakes his thoughts as his hands are placed on his General’s shoulders, Anakin’s arm gently wraps around his hip. He feels hot under his armor for a moment, his cheek is tinted by a rush of red. His hand clasps Anakin’s palm, Anakin makes a momentary strange noise. Rex can not help but be pulled in by his dazzling eyes, they slowly move through the rocky grounds. He stumbles through the first few steps, Anakin remains surprisingly patient. His heart races when Anakin’s lips quirks into a small smile. Rex’s heart flutters.
The snow continues to fall, the white powdery substance found its mark on his apple rosy cheeks. Rex feels the urge to brush it away. He manages to get into the rhythm of the non-existent music as the twirl and dip around the campfire. The fire rims their figures as Rex dips down with Anakin’s arms preventing him from falling. As he returns back up, his thumb strays to his General’s face, brushing away the flakes of snow that covers his face. Anakin smiles, slightly wider than usual, and it was enough for the clone to freeze in his tracks. Anakin’s eyebrows quirk up, heat rushes into Rex’s face as he squeezes Anakin’s palm a little harder.
The snow continues to fall, melting away upon touching their skins; it never stays very long anyway. Anakin drops a quip, Rex rolls his eyes fondly. Anakin grins like the di’kut he is, he can not help but return with a small smile of his own. Anakin frees his flesh arm from his grip as he brushes away a stray flake of snow that dots Rex’s nose. He flushes almost upon touch, his mind goes blank.
“Just returning the favor,” Anakin says, his voice barely above a whisper and humor was clear in his tone. Rex puffs his cheek out in a sudden rush of frustration but he does not mind, really. Anakin chuckles under his breath as his flesh arm clasps around the clone’s warm palms.
“Why are you called Rex?” Anakin asks, his question catches the clone off guard. Rex mulls over his words as they continue to dance slowly. The snow falls onto his luscious locks of hair, the clone smothers the urge to go ahead and ruffle his hair to get rid of the white powder. He bites his lip as he tries to form a coherent response. His General does not seem to be in a rush, he hears him humming softly to a tune the clone did not recognize.
“Well, er -” Rex pauses, as his palm slips from Anakin’s grip, rubbing the back of his neck, “In a language that precedes Basic, Rex means King. My batchmates tend to, well, call me that because I always led them when we were cadets. And, it just stuck,”
Anakin’s countenance twists into something of thoughtfulness, Rex could not help but chuckle at how his General’s face has screwed up. His General scowls playfully, the Captain just smiles knowingly as they twirl away from the warmth of the campfire. The snow continues to fall onto them, it is not heavy yet. It feels just right.
“What about your name?” Rex asks casually, his brown orbs meeting with his gem-like blue ones. Anakin pauses for a moment, his gaze shifts onto the ground. Despite being a head taller than the clone, Anakin looks rather small.
“My mom named me,” Anakin begins softly. Rex feels a feeling of apprehension take hold of him. He knows that Anakin was inducted into the Jedi Order far later than most. This means that he knows his mother. And often, it is a taboo topic around Anakin. The General would often brush it off or quickly change the subject; however, his face always held this simmering rage and sorrow whenever she was brought up in conversation.
“It means sunshine in an old language… it is a native language to Tatooine before the Hutts came about. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to speak it,” Anakin admits sheepishly,” My last name was derived from Ekkreth, a trickster who frees slaves. In Basic, it means Skywalker,”
There is a pregnant pause between the two as Rex’s eyebrows knits in concentration, keeping up with Anakin’s pace. Something about this dance feels so surreal to Rex, sure, he has heard stories from Bly and General Secura wanting to suck their faces out for an hour straight or those other ones in which General Vos and Fox go on undercover dates which were usually located in the nearest janitor closet. Heck, he has even heard from the 212th that Cody - his ori’vod - wanting to kiss General Kenobi. Rex feels hot under his collar, he regrets not taking off his armor until he realizes that it is still snowing.
He is convinced that he is going green at the thought of his ori’vod kissing his General’s surrogate ori’vod. Rex is pulled out of his thoughts as Anakin’s eyes lock with his own. He feels the urge to talk, just to diffuse the awkward silence that follows.
Anakin shrugs in reply, “My mom has always viewed me as a blessing and she thought calling me sunshine in an ancient language would be fitting - ,”
“Well, you are kinda like a sunshine to me and my vods,” Rex explains, his fingers tangling into Anakin’s locks of hair as he brushes away the snow that dots across it, “ A blinding piece of beacon during battle - kind of like the sun,”
Anakin snorts; his eyebrows quirks up. Rex traces the scar over his eyes as they continue swaying along to a music they cannot hear. He twirls around as he dips down once more. Anakin lifts him back up, accidentally stepping his shoe. Rex hisses in pain as Anakin mumbles profuse apologies. Their dance begins to wind down as Rex feels a sense of calmness bubbling in his chest.
“Sunshine. C-can I call you sunshine?” Rex asks softly, a blush crept over his cheeks.
“L-like in private?” Anakin asks, red creeping over his face.
“Yeah,” Rex replies, a bit more sure of himself.
Anakin hums thoughtfully, “I guess,”
Their dance winds down, their steps begin to slow. They slowly come to a stop as the fire was about to die out. It flickers pitifully, grasping onto the last lease of life it has. Anakin and Rex part, stepping backwards. The snow begins to pelt down slightly harder than it did when they were dancing.
“Thanks, s-sunshine, for the dance,”
Anakin perks up, a smile melts into his face, “Thanks, Rex, a-and I love you,”
Anakin leaves a quick peck to his neck, Rex stands dumbfounded. His heart flutters as he feels warm and fuzzy. His surprised expression morphs into a smile as his shiny General disappears into his tent almost immediately. Before he disappears into the tent, Rex calls him out.
Anakin smiles, a little brighter than before. His smile was so blinding, Rex enamors himself at the beauty of his smile. With a light chest, he disappears into his tent and falls asleep contently.
