Synopsis: A year has passed since you and Rex quit being superheroes. Assimilation has been it's own beast, but life keeps moving.
Masterlist of all Chapters
TW/CW: Tooth Rotting Fluff, and Weddings
Note: Another special thank you to @cheeyan for helping me edit several of the more recent chapters, and work through all the old ones :3 love ya
This is extremely self indulgent and entirely fluff, hope you enjoy. Also super freaking long.
The walk isn’t far. You’ve made it more times than you could count in the last year alone. With the access in time it’s only gotten more nostalgic. The clinic that you work at is located downtown, and most days the streets are easy to traverse. Usually, in the winter, the plows come through early in the morning to clear the way, but once or twice you’ve nearly been snowed in during storms that rolled through without warning. Your coworkers still marvel at how your partner came to the rescue and somehow single handedly dug you all out enough so that everyone could go home. You’d teased him when you got home over how inconspicuous he could be, and then groaned when you thought about how all the snow he’d “magically” melted would be a thick sheet of ice tomorrow morning.
In the spring, a few times you’d slipped while trying to run through the rain. Once, you’d fully wiped out in front of several spectators who rushed to help, and just barely missed your scraped hand lacing itself up. When you’d arrived where you were going, your partner had put your earlier blunder together by the sopping wet mess that was your clothes. Your shoulders hunched, an embarrassed smile on your face as you trailed water onto polished wooden floors. It felt poetic at the time, watching him gather dishrags and wipe up the mess. A story you’d seen before.
Now it’s summer again. The scorching sun had no mercy as it beat down on you, forcing perspiration onto your skin. One more day like this and you were going to stop your lunch break visits. He could come visit you for once.
Not that he hadn’t offered. But you liked the free food that you usually got when you visited him.
Still, today had to be a record breaking heat. You’d considered cancelling, but he’d told you that he had something special planned. So, you trudged, somewhat irritably, through the streets toward a very familiar sight with neon lights. A bar. The fluorescent orange of the sign blinked lazily, dimmed for the daytime, but still on. Which you’d told him multiple times was unnecessary. And he’d responded multiple times with: “The customers love it.”
“The customers don’t give a shit.”
“Well, let's ask, shall we?”
“Let’s not.” You’d groaned, but he was already shouting across the bar to the regulars.
“You guys like the sign being on all the time, right?”
There’s a grumbled murmur of agreement, that would have been much more loud and rowdy if it hadn’t been one in the afternoon.
“See?” He’d looked proud anyways, like they’d given him a booming applause.
“You could ask them if they’d give their first born to you and they’d probably say yes. I doubt it's because they actually care.”
He’d laughed, then put on a much more serious face and whispered. “Don’t say that too loud, I don’t want them offering that instead of paying again.”
As you were reaching for the metal handle, someone walked though, nearly walking into you. You both murmured apologies to each other, before you moved through the doorway. The temperature change is drastic, the AC inside the building must have been cranked unreasonably high. Hopefully he was fully aware of just how much that was costing him.
You pushed aside your crankyness from the weather to take a breath, letting yourself relish in the cool for a few breaths.
“Stop interrupting him!” Hissed an elderly voice.
“Charles, he does this every single day!” Another voice barked out.
“And I haven’t figured it out yet, have I? So, shut the hell up!”
“We probably guessed it months ago, and he won’t just admit it.” The second one grumbled.
“Are you seriously calling my integrity into question, in my own bar?” The bartender scoffed dryly.
“I’m just saying! I’ve looked it up plenty of times and all the ways it can be done you’ve said aren’t correct.”
“That’s because I made up my own way, now pay attention and get to guessing or you're paying for your own drinks.”
“We’ll be paying for our own drinks anyways.” The second groaned.
You moved forward a few steps, leaning against a wooden column near the entrance, content to watch the card trick that you’d seen hundreds of times by now.
The bartender fans out the cards, showing them one that they must have picked right before you’d walked in.
“Don’t fuck with me Charles, I’ll charge you double.”
“Don’t fuck with me! I’ll walk out of here without paying!”
“And I’ll call your wife and tell her you’re back here again instead of at the chiropractor like you told her!”
The old man huffs out a gargled laugh at that, finally conceding that his card was indeed an ace of hearts.
“Okay.” The bartender says, swiping his right hand over the cards one last time. “As always, I have no sleeves, you can look over the counter and see it’s not on the ground. So, look for your card.”
The two men riffle through the pile, turning them each over until they get to the last one, which is a king of spades.
“How’d I do it?” The bartender has a shit eating grin, his arms folding across his chest loosely. A motion that has you only staring at his arms.
Charles moves the cards, feeling the grain of the wooden bar. “There’s a slit here somewhere that drops it under the bar.”
The other begins to inspect the cards from their sides, trying to peel them apart. “Somehow you get it to stick perfectly with another card.”
“Again, no. Any other guesses?”
“You’re such a bullshitter.”
“And you both owe me eleven dollars each.”
“Tell us how you did it first.” The younger one says sourly.
“If I tell you how I do it then you’ll tell the other patrons.”
“I won’t. This has been driving me insane for months. Just tell me!”
“It’s magic.” You finally speak up, stepping up to the bar with a smile. “He’s a wizard.”
The bartender’s eyes light up at the sound of your voice, and before you can make it to the stools he’s stooping over the divider to peck a chaste kiss to your lips.
“Hey.” He grins. “Stop giving away my tricks.”
“Hi.” You coo in return. “Do I get a free meal since I knew?”
The two men have turned their attention to you, saying your name in unison, which you’ll never get used to. The slow revelation that every single patron and regular at Rex’s bar knows your name would have been nothing short of a horror story, if you hadn’t heard all of the stories he told to them retold back to you. And even though they were all marginally a bit different from what they were originally, for anonymity, they’d all somehow painted you as his savior who never did anything wrong. Even when that definitely wasn’t the case with certain entries.
“You’ve got to make him tell us. It’s been months honey and he’s still maintaining that we haven’t figured it out.” Charles leans forward to peer at you past the shoulder of his companion.
“Yeah,” the other started, “And how does he do the candle thing?”
“Oh, I found that out months ago. He puts silver fulminate on his fingers before he snaps, which causes the spark.” The older responds, while waving his hand at the other as if he’s asking something stupid.
“You wanna tell them?” Rex has backed up a few inches, his palms still planted against the bar, and his eyes still fastened onto you. With time he’d only seemed to get worse with public displays of affection. Sometimes you didn’t mind. Other times you definitely did. He was the overgrown equivalent of a velcro baby somedays. Which on days with this kind of heat, was a bad combination.
“Also magic.” You turn to the two older men, giving them a wink.
“Bah.” The older one waved off. “You’re both ridiculous.”
“Fine.” You groan. “He uses superpowers. He lights the candle with his fingers. No tricks.”
Rex stiffens almost imperceptibly in your peripherals, but the two men are now rolling their eyes while pulling out their wallets.
“Just give us our bills.” The younger one mutters.
It raises your mood exponentially. Rex finally steps away from your section, moving to grab their cards as they pull them free of their worn leather prisons.
You check your phone. Twenty minutes left of your break, not counting the walk back.
“Hey, Sloane,” He glances over to you at his name. “My break ends in twenty.”
“What?” He seems genuinely shocked, a much bigger reaction than you were expecting. His movements become rushed, accidently dropping one of the cards on the floor behind the bar while trying to hand it back. “Shit—Sammy, cover for me okay?”
The other worker who’d been restocking a beer freezer toward the corner glanced over and nodded her head. “‘Kay, boss.”
Rex is already pulling his apron from over his head, and then wall jumps the bar, landing on your side. It would have been downright unsanitary if any of him touched the bar. Instead it was just over the top. But you thought it was a little cute how much of a rush he was making over this. He was acting like this was his last chance to see you in days, when in reality you’d see him in a few hours after work ended.
The patrons don’t even bother to comment on the maneuver, having seen it more than once by now.
“You’re a shit magician. Can’t even make the card reappear.” Charles comments, while shoving his card back in its slot.
“But I’m damn good at making it disappear!” Rex calls out over his shoulder, tossing his apron over one of the stools at the edge of the bar. “No one steal that! I’ll be back in twenty.”
He speeds up, physically pulling you back by the shoulder of your shirt so that he can step in front of you and grab the door.
You step through the threshold, groaning internally as the sticky humid air greets you. “Okay, what’s the plan?”
“Let's take a walk.” He slides his hand down your arm to your palm, intertwining his fingers with yours. His skin is much cooler than yours from a long morning and afternoon in air conditioning, so you’ll let it slide for now. But the moment he starts making your hands sweat, you’ll be prying him off of you, no matter how cute he is.
“Please tell me that you actually have something planned.” You bite back a smile looking up at him.
“Well last time you said that you had something planned it was—”
“That was Rae’s fault, not mine! She said you wouldn’t like a big surprise!”
“Regardless of if I would or wouldn’t, I’m not sure a single flower and a burnt cupcake constitute a surprise of small or large proportions."
“Hey, you said you liked it.”
“See?” He stands a little taller at that, pride lacing his demeanor.
“It wasn’t a surprise though.”
“Ah, whatever.” He grumbles, shrinking again.
“So…” You start, letting him lead your strides. “What are you going to do if they actually guess how you make the card disappear?”
Rex snorts. “They won’t guess.”
You unlace your hand from his and hold his palm up to him, a light dusting of soot stained between the grooves and calluses. “Then you’d better hope they never notice this.”
“I don’t think they actually want to know.” Rex laughs, twisting his hand to grab yours again. “They like the mystery of it, it keeps their lives interesting.”
“Keeps them frustrated is what it does.” You chuckle.
“You jealous I don’t save that just for you?” He knocks his shoulder into yours, shooting you a sly smirk. Which you heat up at. Even after being with him for almost two years his stupid flirting still got to you.
“I saw Sammy was back. I thought you fired her.” You muse.
“I did.” He sighs. “She’s always late. But…She kept showing up, and none of the applicants were very promising. So she’s back, I guess.”
You snort at that, earning a cross look from Rex. “Sorry, it’s just ironic. I’m still getting used to you not being late to things.”
“Well, if someone would change her work schedule, then I’d be able to work nights again. And sleep to my heart's content.”
“Sigh, poor Rex.” You draw out. “I’m afraid no clinic would ever close at two in the morning like your bar does. Plus, you’re working late tonight as is. Don’t push it.”
“That’s just because Davey called in sick.” He defends lightly, before continuing with, “I still think you should come work with me.” He glances at you, out of the corner of his eye, judging to see if you’ll have a different reaction than you always do.
“If we spent every single second of every single day together, Rex, we’d never stop fighting.”
“I don’t mind fighting when it’s with you.”
“Oh, come on! That was sweet!”
“It was sickening. Try again.”
From what you can tell, Rex has no real plan, like you suspected. He turns at random, glancing down at his phone routinely, while talking about whatever new problem he’s run into as a bar owner. Which even after months and months since the initial opening, he’s still finding out is much more work than he originally bargained for. You’ve never seen him happier. Every complaint is accompanied by a small glint in his eye. He spends time learning his customers by name and asks about their lives. Sometimes you wonder if he’s living vicariously through them, absorbing all the mundanity of life he’d been missing out on until recently.
Eventually you find yourself at a park. If you could call it that. It spans a little larger than your living room, with two trees planted toward the entrance and the other end. A squirrel skitters up one of the aforementioned trees as you get closer. It would take less than six or so strides to cross the whole expanse.
“This can’t be right…” Rex mutters, looking back down at his phone again. The heat has returned to being unbearable, and Rex’s hand has been getting more and more sweaty since the first mistaken turn. He finally frees you to look at his phone closer, and you take the chance to check your own. Ten minutes left of your break. You needed to start walking back.
“I swear to god, I thought it was nicer.”
“No, no. It’s very nice. This way I won’t get lost.” You step forward onto the grass, appreciating the few degrees difference under the shade.
You glance around again. What exactly was he hoping for? A car passes by with exceedingly blaring music. A crow squawks at another smaller bird at a nearby trash can. A woman walks by while talking loudly on the phone. Rex looks absolutely crestfallen. You aren’t sure why, but you start to laugh. It bubbles in your chest, leaking out in small huffs until you’re folded over yourself, gasping for air.
“Alright, it’s not that bad.”
“It’s ridiculous!” Your stomach was starting to hurt. “What was the plan?”
“I—” Rex’s cheeks warm a shade darker as he takes it in. “I don’t know, I just needed to do something.”
“And this was what you chose?” You positively cackle at that, words catching in your throat.
“I thought it was a little nicer…” He said defensively, a small smile threatening to break his offended charade. “But I guess it’ll work as good as anywhere.” He moves forward to stand right in front of you.
You’re still hardly able to stand straight, laughter curling you inward in a way that only stops when you hear Rex say your name. Wiping the corners of your eyes, you stand straighter. “What?”
“Uh—” He looks oddly nervous. Had he looked like that the whole walk over? He wipes his hands on his pants, suddenly not able to meet your eyes. They flicker over the surrounding area, taking it all in again. “Shit, this is awful.”
“I just…” He clears his throat, while shifting in place. His mouth opens a few times, then closes again. “I’ve been—”
Your phone rings, cutting him off. “Sorry, hold on.” You answer, stepping a foot back. You respond to the secretary's question, telling her you’ll be back in a few minutes to deal with a particularly difficult client. When the exchange ends, you turn back to see Rex staring off at one of the trees at the end of the lot, his jaw flexing.
“Sorry, hun. Can you walk and talk? My break ends in like five minutes and they need me back anyways.” You tap the side of your phone against your palm, while squinting up at him. The sun peaking through the leaves above you just enough to make it hard to see.
“Yeah.” He says hesitantly, and when your brows start to pull together he seems to shake himself out of whatever he was thinking about. “Yeah. No, let's go.”
He then proceeds to stay dead silent. The whole walk. Even when you try to crack through the sudden shell, he just laughs. Even if you were asking him a question. It’s weird. He hasn’t tried to take your hand again, which you’re glad for, but you also find additionally odd. He can never seem to go this long without some form of physical contact…
The front of your clinic comes into view and he’s still said nothing distinguishable. The door is only a few feet away now, and you’re a few minutes late as it is. Turning to face him, you give him an awkward shrug. “Well…that was all distinctly weird.”
“Yeah…” He rubs his arm, glancing to the side.
“Again, not really a surprise, but I appreciate the effort.” You couldn’t hold back the tease, which seems to make him only feel worse. His brows lift in a way that could only be described as pathetic, his lips trying and failing to curl into a smile.
You’re hesitating now. Was he alright? “Rex? Is there something going on?”
He straightens out, placing his hands against his hips, his eyes still following the traffic passing by on the road. “Yeah, kind of.” He lifts one hand to rub that back of his neck. “I was kinda gonna ask you to marry me.”
“This is like my fourth time trying too.”
You blink, voice coming out small. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He chuckles out sourly. “I’m really bad at this.”
You’d expected time to slow, the realization to hit like a bus, but it doesn’t. The cars on the road still pass by a few miles over the limit, the sun still beats down on you, life still keeps moving. The shock at his unceremoniousness feels worse than you thought it would be if it was a whole big thing. He’s talking with the same candor as if he’d just told you he’ll regrettably be home late. You feel like you’re being tricked. He didn’t really just ask you to marry him, did he?
“Well, yeah.” He says it with a scoff, a brow raised at you like you’re the ridiculous one here.
“And you were going to ask me at that tiny park?”
“Uhm…” He draws out, squinting at you. “Technically I asked you a few days ago at the apartment. I was just going to remind you.”
“At the apartment?” You tried to think back. Nope nothing rang a bell.
“You said something about Kate and Immortal’s marriage not lasting, and I said that we could probably last longer than them.”
You stared at him. “What?”
He does a half shrug thing, one hand still on his hip while the other is plastered to the back of his neck.
“That’s…That’s not a proposal, Rex!” You groan, pressing a hand to your brow. “That’s just—” How do you even begin to explain this to him? You run your hands through your hair, turning in a semi-circle before finally fully clicks. The bus of bricks shifting into gear and slamming into you full force.
You slowly turn back, your hands pulling down to obstruct your eyes until you can only see him through the slit of your pointer and middle finger. “You’re proposing?”
He opens his mouth, looking like he might say something snarky, before he flushes and just silently nods.
“Yes.” He says definitively.
He nods again, then pats his pockets before slowly looking up at you with a sheepish expression. “That I forgot.”
“Ah.” What more had you expected? The thought is clouded over before you can even finish it. There’s a ring. Albeit not here, but still.
Rex stares at you a heartbeat longer before jolting a step back. “Wait! Don’t respond now!”
“What?” Your voice cracks as your hands fall from your face, landing limply at your sides.
You’re left speechless as he starts to back up in a half jog.
“Meet me at that stupid park tonight after closing!”
“What, at two a.m.?” You shout out after him.
And, he’s gone. And you, are exceedingly late returning to work.
The rest of the work day passed by as if you were witnessing it through a fog. When you got off, the first thing you did was call Rae, who responded to your story with shrieking laughter. Even then, there was still an aspect of it that didn’t feel real. This wasn’t exactly a fairytale proposal, but then again, when had anything between you both been like a fairytale?
In truth, you were more than ecstatic at the possibility of marrying Rex. It’d come up more than once in brief conversations. These usually manifested in jokes from Rex regarding his bar and how much the taxes for the property were eating him alive and how an opportune marriage would help on that front. You weren’t even sure if that was true.
When the prospect of marriage was first mentioned, it’d been over a lazy breakfast. One you’d made without notice on a random weekend. Rex was still working every shift at the bar back then, sleeping almost every second he was home. He’d only been home and asleep for three hours when you’d be getting up for work in the mornings. It had been an awkward inbetween period. You both missed each other, but just couldn’t sync up again. It was a necessary evil to get things off the ground. But at this point you’d both been questioning if it was worth it.
Rex had appeared as though summoned over your shoulder, his chin curling over the crook of your neck and his weight resting against you as he watched the food simmer in the pan. He murmured something to the tune of ‘good morning’ mixed with ‘I’m so tired, I think I might be dying’. Which you found ironic with how not too long ago he was a fully fledged superhero. Somehow the hardest battle he’s had to overcome is getting up when the alarm rings the first time.
A valiant effort on his end.
“I can open the bar today if you want to sleep in.” You’d murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then using your free hand to smooth out his hair a little. You weren’t sure his eyes had opened once since he settled in, and they definitely weren’t opening now.
“It’s your weekend.” He slurred.
“It’s not your responsibility.”
“I’m glad that you’re now the posterboy for responsibility.”
He hummed, a pleasant smile curving his lips. “It’s weird, right?”
A hush fell over you both, comfortable and warm. His body heat had been effective in chasing away the chill of your apartment. A warm blanket draped over your back. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling himself impossibly closer, before sighing with relief as your powers began to take effect. He still complained they didn’t work to reset his need for sleep. But he never complained with malice. More a harmless whine while he relaxed under your touch. He did the same now, all the soreness and aches leaving him for the time being and replaced with a warm buzz he never let you forget about.
“You know,” He’d started, then trailed off, his breathing becoming shallower.
There was no way he was falling asleep while standing up leaning against you. Right?
“I used to think that getting married was just like…a dumb government thing.”
You hummed, trying and failing to follow his thought process.
“I used to imagine that Cecil had to officiate every wedding. ‘Cause when I was young he was like the face of the government for me.”
“That’s a horrifying thought.” You tried to imagine Cecil officiating any wedding, the participants as faceless blobs, and even then it was impossible.
Rex murmured in agreement, somehow sinking farther into you. Much longer like this and your back was going to start aching. “I wouldn’t mind marrying you though. Even if it was Cecil as the priest or whatever.”
You’d let out a snort, and he’d slipped into no man’s land between awake and asleep. The warmth the idea had given you stuck around the rest of the day.
Now, as you stood at the front door of your apartment, your eyes trailing over the entrance of the kitchen, it felt even more unreal. Less than two years ago, you hadn’t been sure you’d survive yourself, let alone a real mission. And now you were day dreaming about getting married. The closer you got to two a.m., the more antsy you got. Which internally you found a bit ridiculous, since you already knew what was going to happen. By the time it was one-thirty, you were already out the door. You parked in front of Rex’s bar, and sat. It was a busy night. Something you were glad to see on his behalf, but something you were only more put out by on your behalf. The more people there were, the longer it would take for him to close up.
The orange neon of his sign reflected off the hood of your car, leaving streaks up to the windshield. It blinked every eight seconds. By the time you realized you were keeping count, you finally forced yourself to get out of your car. The walk between his bar and that sketchy piece of land was much shorter now that you knew where you were going. Two lamps illuminated the small area in the night. One on each corner that was facing the street.
You stepped off of the sidewalk onto coarse earth, walking aimlessly while you waited. The other end, only a yard or three wide, gave way to a small walkway. Brick road encroached on by metal railing that protected the passers from the river down below. You leaned against the railing, staring down into the black. You couldn’t see the ripples from here. Couldn’t hear the roaring rush of water. It looked like ink, night black sludge dimly reflecting the lights of the city above.
The temperature was perfect now, as opposed to earlier. A few warm breezes brushing over your arms and through your hair. No one was around, most likely due to the time of night. It was odd to consider now, how you could be downtown, outside, in the middle of the night, all alone, and feel nothing. No nerves gnawing at your subconscious, or stares lingering too long in a dark alley way. You could just be. No one could sneak up on you without you feeling them first, and you’d be able to bring them down nearly as fast.
The knowledge did nothing to fend off the nightmares. Those never left. Not fully. Sometimes they were about night guards, other times about loss that had never come to pass. Rex or Rae on gurneys, new ReAnimen for you to play with. Cecil, Donald, Zandale, it didn’t matter what variation, what faces, or how long between nightmares. They never failed to return. Rex was the same. You weren’t surprised by that. He had much more time as a hero than you had. He’d done far worse things. You didn’t cry anymore. And he never had. Sometimes you wish he would, but he’d rather intertwine with you. Silent, steady.
Sometimes he’d talk about his dreams. Sometimes he wouldn’t. The ones he did talk about made you wonder how horrific the ones he didn’t must be. You stopped talking about your’s too one day. Not because you were hiding them from him, or because you didn’t want to burden him with them. But rather because, quite suddenly, they ceased to matter. When you woke up, you were surrounded by your apartment walls, instead of those of a hospital, or The Guardian’s HQ. There was no dull hum of fluorescent, or distant beeps from an EKG. There was quiet. And warmth. On summer nights like this, almost too much warmth, thanks to tanned caramel skin, and auburn hair.
Rex was more than happy to blame Cecil for your nightmares, as well as any unnamable ailment you experienced. But, the further you’d distanced yourself from your days as a Guardian, the more you could appreciate him. He’d come through when you needed it. More than once. And he was the reason you had Rex now. In more than one way.
Once a month, you both received mystery stipends. Always without a routing number and without a name. Which to you, felt like a signature of its own. The salaries and savings that you and Rex had received from the Guardian’s was enough to live off of, job free, for several years. Which Rex had originally thought of as a score, and then realized very quickly one sure thing; life not as a superhero was boring. The first few days of him “relaxing” had somehow been the most strain your relationship had ever had to date. At the first mention of him opening a bar you’d jumped at it, pushing him to do something that he wanted. Not something he’d been groomed into, or did just because he thought it was all he could do.
“I don’t know anything about running a business.” He’d retorted, looked at you like you were insane.
“Then take some classes.”
“You really think I could pass a class?” His eyebrows had dropped, giving you a ‘bullshit’ look.
“Then hire someone to do the business stuff.”
“Do you know how hard it is to keep a bar in business? It’s not exactly an untapped market.”
You’d stretched, taping an index finger against your lips, one hand continuing to comb through his hair. “Do you know how hard it is?”
“No! Exactly why it would fail.” He turned his head in your lap, facing out and closing his eyes again.
“Well, then fail.” You’d shrugged, taking your fingers from his hair and trailing them down the side of his face to grasp his chin and turn him back toward you. “But you’ve got to try first.”
“I liked it better when failing meant dying.”
“Oh, don’t sell yourself short. You’ve failed plenty and somehow you seem just fine to me.”
The memory brings a smile to your face. You’d figured back then that eventually your time together would stop feeling borrowed. It felt to you as though you weren’t meant to survive your encounter with the variant. Rex felt it too. You wondered how many of his dreams were just that. How often he’d sat up at night or in the afternoons before his nightshifts, gasping for air while searching for you.
That was the real difficulty back when your sleep schedules didn’t line up. It’d taken you almost a week to pull out of him why he was refusing to go to bed after his shifts. He’d gone long periods without sleep as a hero, but this had gotten to be beyond just a health concern. You’d argued he couldn’t be as sleep deprived as he was around new customers if he wanted to retain them. And he’d shot back that he was fine, in that overly sassy tone. Then you’d grabbed his hand, and pulled him to the bed, while he murmured about you being late to your own job. He’d molded to you, settling on top of you like a weighted blanket that wasn’t within proper regulations. The moment you’d put your hand to the back of his neck, he melted. It almost felt too easy, like manipulation. Your powers turned him to goo, relaxed and pain free. Even now, he never took that for granted. He never demanded it, or expected it. Even if you did offer it freely anytime he had direct contact with you.
Quietly, a hushed murmur against the plush of your shoulder, he’d admitted that he didn’t know how to sleep without you anymore. He woke from night terrors, the warmth of your blood still a ghosting linger on his hands, without you there. No matter how short lived the initial panic was, it was still more than he liked. So, he staved it away by staying awake. The less sleep he had, the more it felt like his duty. Like he was tasked with watching over you. A talkative, sleep-deprived knight.
You’d told him to start hiring for the night shift.
He didn’t need convincing.
He was near now. His pulse works as a signature, alerting you with every step. There’s a dull hum, followed by a crisp swoosh of something soaring up above you. The river’s depths illuminate with dancing lights. A firework crackles through the quiet night air, splitting the atmosphere into tangerine and saffron flecked sparks. When those sizzle into smoke, two more go off to ignite the stars. Malachite and venetian red. When they both faded, it felt as though the stars shone brighter. A firework might try all it may, but it will never truly be a constellation.
Rex settled in next to you, leaning on crossed arms that brushed against yours while he looked down at the same waters you had been. He smelt like aftershave and dish detergent. The second, an aspect of the bar he never seemed to be able to fully wash away.
“I always forget you can do that.”
“It wouldn’t have the same effect if I did it all the time, would it?”
“I suppose not.” You concede, turning so that your elbows are propped on the railing and you’re looking toward the trees behind you. In the dark, the little wooded area didn’t look quite as comically small. “You know, it’s kinda growing on me.”
“Seems to be a theme when it comes to you and me.”
Cheesy. You let your head roll to your left as Rex straightens out his arms, putting most of his weight on his palms. His expression is tranquil now. The nerves and awkwardness of earlier in the day now completely vacant.
“Listen.” His gaze travels from your elbows’ point of contact with the barricade, up your shoulder, to your face. “I know I’m not very good at this, and I know there are still thousands of ways for me to improve. But, I guess my point is, it doesn’t feel impossible anymore. Not with you.” He shifts, looking back to the river. “I planned on dying in that suit. For over a decade that was the only possible ending for me. I’m not the kind of guy who gets the happy ending, or the girl, or…” He hesitates, choosing his words. “Or to leave. I’ve lived and led a miserable life, and that was just the way things were. And then you showed up, and I treated you like I treated everyone.”
Now would usually be the time you interjected a ‘shitty?’, but you decided not to interrupt.
He takes a breath. “I can’t pinpoint when I fell in love with you, and maybe that means that underneath all of this I’m still at my core a piece of shit. But, I know that I love you. And as selfish as I know that I am, I want to be selfish with you. I want to be with you constantly, and I want you to be mine in the same way that I’ve been yours. I guess I don’t really care if that’s in the form of a marriage or a ring, or whatever other bullshit. I’d take your word if it’s all you’d ever give me.” He angles his head back toward you, lifting his arm furthest from you to run his knuckles over your own arm. His eyes followed the movement. “I don’t know how to be like you. It doesn't come naturally to me to go grocery shopping, or plan vacations, or to just… be normal. But you’ve helped me to see it’s a possibility. Even if it’s not going to be today or tomorrow.” He pushes back from the railing, sidestepping so that he’s in front of you. “Anyways.” He’s holding a tattered box in his fingers. The edges crushed in from how hard he must have been gripping it. “I looked it up, and I know I’m supposed to get on one knee or some shit, but honestly I thought that looked a little stupid.”
You can’t help the scoff that escapes your throat. Less at his refusal and more at the image of him helplessly googling how to propose just to recoil at the customs.
A small smirk plays across his lips as he lowers his inflection by a tone. “I save getting on my knees for other moments.”
God. Leave it to him to somehow make a proposal perverse.
“Honestly, I didn’t plan this far ahead.” He let you take the box. “And you’re being uncharacteristically quiet, which is scaring the shit out of me a bit. So, I guess, yeah. Will you?”
“Will I?” You can’t help but giggle, opening the box to look at the contents. It’s by no means the most glamorous ring that you’ve ever seen. It’s a thinner band, with one main stone, three smaller on each side, inlaid into the metal. The stone is your favorite color rather than a traditional diamond. Which in all honesty, you find as more sweet than anything else. Knowing him, he’d probably scoffed at the idea of a diamond or something more classical, thinking it was boring.
“You know. Will you marry me?”
You take your eyes from the ring to meet his gaze again. He’s already wincing. All prior bravado lost throughout the duration of his speech. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” He brightens up immediately at your words, his eyes widening in surprise, even though you couldn’t imagine ever answering another way.
“Yes, Rex. Of course I’ll marry you.” Your giggle was muffled by Rex surging forward. His left arm cages you against the guardrail while his other hand snaked up your neck to your jaw. The kiss was electric, his excitement just beneath the surface just as contagious. His lips left your mouth after only a few moments, returning to pepper around your face until you were cowering away, unable to stop the laughter from leaving you at his persistence. When he finally stopped, letting you face him straight on again, you felt like you were on another planet. “I—” He kissed you again. “Rex—” He pecked. “Come on—” Another one to the corner of your mouth. Finally you brought up your free hand to hold him back, splaying over the lower half of his face. You raise your brows at him, as if asking ‘are you done?’. When he doesn’t push against you again, you finally speak, leaving your hand as a barrier. “Thank you for asking.” Much gentler you lean forward, pressing your lips to the back of your own hand, mimicking a kiss.
When you lean back again, the green of his eyes is hardly visible, overtaken by the black of his pupils. His own hand tails up your arm, pulling it down just enough so that he can speak. “Thank you for saying yes.”
From the look on his face, and the pace of his pulse, you figure it’s about time to head back to the apartment. Besides…
“We should go though, someone will have definitely called the cops about those fireworks.”
“It was nice though, right?”
“It was really nice. I loved it.”
“You’re fine, it’ll take like twenty minutes tops.”
“If you’re having second thoughts, we could always run away together. Elope, grow a garden, get some cats.”
“Ugh. Yeah, let's just do that.” You doubled over trying to regulate your breathing. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you wanted this. Hell, you were beyond excited for this. But even still, you couldn’t help a shortness of breath. It didn’t feel real. This was too good. You wanted it too badly.
“I could have a car here to pick us up in twenty.”
“But I have to walk out in like ten!”
Rae tsked. “Damn. Then I guess you just have to go through with it.”
You groaned, sinking down closer to the floor.
“Come on, there’s hardly anyone here. It’s just you, me, the officiant, like twenty other people—”
“—and that one asshole who attached himself to you like velcro a few years ago.”
“Stop making it sound so sexy.” Your response dripped with sarcasm as you stood up straight again. Grimacing, you tilted forward, catching yourself on the edge of the sink. Your reflection felt too serious. Too unreal.
“That’s not possible. Every word in every language sounds like that when I speak it.”
You groan again, squeezing your eyes shut.
“No!” You choked, just as a knock thudded against the door.
“Zandale! Just who we wanted to see!” She’s already moving to open the door to the small bathroom that the two of you are wedged inside of.
He stands motionless outside the door while Rae pulls it wide open, putting a hand to her hip and standing back as a clear invitation for him to enter. Which he doesn’t take. “I don’t need to get involved with whatever bull is going on in here, I’m just telling you that you’ve got five minutes.” You could swear the suit he’s wearing is the exact same one he’d worn to the gala. Not that you were judging. A nice suit is a nice suit.
Rae jabs a thumb over her shoulder at you. “She’s freaking out.”
“I would be too if I was marrying that dick.”
“That’s a little unfair—” You start, stepping over to where Rae was.
“Hey! We agreed no shit talking until after the reception.” Rae hissed, a little too seriously for it to have been just a snarky tease.
“Do you guys really still dislike him that much?” They are both laughably bad at calming your nerves to any extent.
Zandale shrugs. “Nah, but you can’t let him know that or it’ll go straight to his head. Plus, if he feels any less guilty I might not get free drinks anymore at the bar.”
“He’s joking.” Rae glares at him, turning back to you while adjusting her glasses. “Everyone knows Rex is a lot better, or I wouldn’t be letting you marry him. But that’s not the point. He’s out there already, you’re the one holding everything up. Why?”
You suck in a shaky breath. “It’s just a big change, I guess.”
“Bigger than becoming a Guardian and leaving the Guardians, and then joining again a day later, just to leave again?”
“Technically I wasn’t fully a Guardian when I first started—”
“Now is not the time to discuss technicalities! You guys already live together, what’s really changing?”
“Not much when you put it like that. And I love him more than anything, I don’t even know why this is—” You stumble over your words, trying to rationalize your nerves. Zandale and Rae look less and less impressed.
“Get out there!” Rae pulls you by the shoulders, forcing you out of the bathroom.
“Okay, Okay!” You brushed her off, stopping a few feet outside of the bathroom to take a more regulated breath. The world wasn’t ending. Nothing was going wrong. You were fine. And the man you love is waiting for you.
The ceremony itself passed as quickly as Rae had said it would. It was a blur of rituals you had chosen rather than Rex. He could care less how the ceremony itself went, as long as at the end of it, you were married. Any nerves you’d had beforehand were quelled once you saw him. He looked as good in a suit as you remembered.
The reception was set to be held at a smaller venue. Three sides of the area were walled in while the fourth along the west side was open. It was propped up by support columns with intricate buttresses, those of which were laden with vines. The outside area had a small stone patio that spanned about eight feet from the inside of the venue, and gave way to plush grass. There were several seating areas in the grass for people to spread out to as the night moved on; some outdoor dining tables, some cocktail tables, and several benches. Further off into the grass and trees laid a small oak gazebo.
Inside of the venue was much more crowded. There were rows of tables with settings for every guest that had RSVP’d, as well as some spare settings just in case, and a special head table that the planner had recommended for just you and Rex to have.
Over the course of the whole reception, you don’t think you sat there once.
An open bar laid to the back of the large expanse of area, and tables with foods lined the sides. You’d both decided against having servers initially for money—even though neither of you were hurting—and then because you simply were too exhausted to deal with more hands in the wedding.
After very little deliberation, you’d both decided to only invite people that one or both of you actually cared about. Meaning that some of the Guardians were invited, but not all. Rudy, who both you and Rex couldn’t define your feelings toward, was surprisingly in attendance as Amanda’s plus one. Which you’d both figured there was a fifty-fifty chance of. Shapesmith was also in attendance, thankfully not in full uniform. He seemed set on introducing himself to every single guest, even to you and Rex. Upon reaching the two of you he’d given you the fakest sounding name you’d ever heard, then winked in an exaggerated fashion while leaning forward with a hand cupping his mouth. “It’s me! The Shapesmith!”
Rex’s brows had tightened, nose wrinkling. “How did you even get on the guest list?”
Of course Rae and Zandale were also in attendance. You’d bargain your own money that they’d bet each other on who could drink the most alcohol from your open bar. By their mutual fifth drink, Rex had threatened to send them the bill. You’d invited Donald too, but heard no word back. He hadn’t attended the ceremony, which came as little surprise to you. Who knows what kaiju he was keeping Cecil updated on now.
Cecil had been a more difficult story. You hadn’t invited him. It felt weird, the idea that he might somehow show. You knew he wouldn’t, but still, it weighed like an uneasy stone. You knew he was bound to be keeping tabs. And with that, you figured he knew that you knew. As backward and roundabout that all sounded. Still, even after the first hour of the reception passed, a tiny voice in the back of your head wondered if he’d show. And maybe even hoped.
There were a few of Rex’s regulars at the bar, and some coworkers from your clinic. And the rest of the seating was made up by miscellaneous people from your lives, family members from your side, people Rex hadn’t completely burned bridges with in the past from his. It goes without saying, there were far more people from your side.
You’d hardly had a second to talk to Rex in public, let alone private. People you hadn’t seen in ages pulled you this way and that, while Rex got questioned by your relatives who hadn’t known he existed until the wedding announcement. A few times you caught his eye and he’d given you a nervous smile that screamed; ‘HELP ME!’, but you weren’t fairing much better yourself.
“You looked like you needed a drink.” Zandale plops a glass into your hand, leaning against the back of a chair.
“Mhm.” You hummed suspiciously, eyeing the beer in his own grasp. “And you definitely didn’t grab me one just so you could get away with grabbing yourself another one, right?”
“You wound me.” Zandale puts a hand to his chest in mock injury.
“Yeah, sure.” Your eyes flit over the crowd, the—quite a large crowd now. “Wait a second,” You twist, following someone who walked by with your gaze. “Who…?” You turn forward toward Zandale again, scanning over the area. There’s far too many people here. Every seat is filled and then some. “Who are all these people?”
Zandale shrugs. “I dunno, you invited them.”
“I’ve seen at least five or six people now that I’ve never seen in my life.” You admit, narrowing your eyes on another who’s standing and chatting a few feet away.
Rex seems to have finally escaped some incessant questioning and for the first time all night steps in beside you. He murmurs a greeting, pecking a kiss to your cheek before grabbing the beer from Zandale’s grasp and nearly downing it in one go.
“Tough crowd?” Zandale chuckles.
“You have no fuckin’ clue.”
“Rex, who’s that?” You gesture to the person a few feet away in front of you, not moving your eyes off of him once.
“Uh, I don’t know.” His brow creases gently as he turns toward you.
“How do we both not know who these people are? It’s our reception.” Another unknown face walks past you, shifting quickly, you call out to them. “Excuse me, this might be weird but…who are you?”
A man, probably in his forties or fifties turns back, a glass of wine pinched between his fingers. He introduces himself immediately, offering you both congratulations.
This clears absolutely nothing.
“How did you get here?” You shake your head, rephrasing. “Why are you here?”
The man gestures to Rex. “He invited me.”
You glance at Rex who looks flabbergasted.
“Yeah.” The man laughs. “We talked at the grocery store once, and you started talking about your wedding and then you told me to come. I thought it was kinda weird but I’d never turn down a celebration!” Without another word, he salutes you both with the glass and heads on his way.
When you turn back to Rex, he’s covering the lower half of his face with a hand, his thumb pressed into the space below his left cheek bone, and his pointer finger resting at the corner of his right eye. His eyes don’t immediately meet yours, lingering on the ground and then jerking upward to meet you. Zandale is nothing short of cracking up.
“Okay, so I think I know where all these people came from.” He admits slowly, words muffled under his palm.
“Rex.” You try to sigh it out, but any hint of exasperation is overtaken by a laugh. The situation was exceedingly humorous to you at least. “Did you seriously invite strangers to our wedding reception?”
“It’s starting to ring a bell.” He winces.
“Uh, I didn’t keep track, really.”
“I figured most of them wouldn’t show, and if people did show it would bulk up the celebration, you know!”
“That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.” Zandale cracks out, still laughing almost attention grabbingly loud.
“There’s no way we have enough food for these people.” You looked out at the tables, stifling a few more chuckles.
“Eh, it’ll be fine.” He follows your gaze, giving himself a small nod as though just that would solve the problem.
You chugged the glass in your hand, finally able to suppress the laughter bubbling up. Handing the empty glass back to Zandale, you nudge Rex. “You’ve got to ask Eve.”
Rex nods like a soldier about to head off into war. “Okay. But if you see another member of your family head towards me, could you please intercept or something?”
“I will do my best.” You nod stoically, fighting the urge to give him a salute as he goes.
Eve was exceedingly gracious and helped whip up some food last minute. When you’d got the chance you’d whispered a thank you to her, which she graciously brushed off and told you it was “No problem at all.”
There had been no official start of dinner, eventually people began to serve themselves while you and Rex still made your rounds. You were taking a break, sitting at Rae’s table while shoving your face when the ding of a metal utensil against glass quiets most of the room down. Glancing around, you search for the source, only to find the culprit to be Zandale. His eyes flit over the crowd, lingering on you for a moment before he holds his hands out and begins.
“Since none of you pussies will start the speeches, I guess it falls onto my shoulders.”
“Oh my god, is he wasted?” You turn to Rae and she snickers with a shake of her head.
“Not wasted enough for this.”
“I hardly know any of you, and for that I’m grateful, because the people I do know; I most of the time wish I didn’t. Here’s to the beautiful bride, and the…uh, something-something groom.” Zandale turns around, searching the tables. “Where is he…? Ah. There he is.” He waves an arm to Rex where he’s standing at the other end of the room from you. “Rex Sloane. Sloane, right?”
Rex doesn’t nod or give any semblance of him listening besides the smirk plastered on his face.
“Sloane. Kind of normal, more normal than I would have guessed. Rex though is rough, that’s always been such a bullshit name, you should look into getting that changed.”
“Move it along!” Rae shouted over your shoulder, causing you to flinch slightly.
“I’m getting to it! Sheesh!” Zandale took a swig of his drink, zeroing back in onto Rex. “I give you both five months, and if I’m wrong then I figure you guys will be together forever or some stupid sappy shit like that. Either way, what fun, right? There will always be good drinks and no ailments, sounds like a damn good five months. I hope you two enjoy it.” Zandale holds the glass up toward you, inclining his head before sitting back down.
“Well, wasn’t that just heart warming?” Rae snorts, nudging you with her shoulder.
“I’ve got tears in my eyes.” You snicker back, then turn back to Zandale and offer him a nod of your own, which seems to leave him satisfied. Luckily no one seems to linger long on the attention to Rex’s last name, or the comment about no ailments.
Once the flood gates are opened everyone and their mother takes it upon themselves to give some form of spoken praise to you and/or Rex. Mostly to you. Anyone from your family that speaks is always forced to add on a “And I don’t know the groom very well, but he must be worth something if she chose him.” Eventually you start to feel a little bad. This was his wedding just as much as yours and there was no way this was all just bouncing off of him. Rudy had been the only person so far to stand up and only mention Rex, but he’d started with; “Amanda said I should stand and say a few words since I’ve known you almost the longest out of anyone here.” So, anything he said after that felt much less touching. To wrap up the speeches was no one other than Shapesmith, who stood, tapped his glass and then announced; “It is fun to do that! Let me do it again!” And proceeded to clang against the glass multiple times before Zandale got him to sit down.
By this point the music has started, something soft and rhythmic. The party playlist queued to start after a few slower songs so that those who wanted to slow dance could. Groups made their way to the patio area, forming into small groups that swayed and spun.
You made a comment to Rae about finding Rex. She nodded, only half listening while fully engrossed in one of the bizarre stories of a regular at Rex’s bar. It wasn’t too hard to spot his auburn locks over the crowd, the difficulty lied in actually reaching him. Every few steps you were stopped by a guest making some comment or another, before you finally almost made it to him, just to be stopped again. You were close enough that you could just barely make out the conversation he was having with a family member of yours that you weren’t very close with.
“Surely it can’t be that bad.” They chided, urging him to say whatever he was about to.
“Uh, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck, searching the room around him, but not turning enough to see you. When he didn’t spot you his shoulders slouched, resignation entering his tone. “I mean it’s kind of funny, I showed up at her door drunk—I mean not drunk-drunk! Like moderately tipsy—Vaguely!” He’s talking fast, discomfort filling his tone. “We’d fought, or had a disagreement about…something. But, basically after that—Well, huh…” He scratches his hairline near his temple. Maybe you should have figured up some fake stories that didn’t reveal any secret identities prior to the wedding.
“I’m sorry, please excuse me.” You murmur to the person who had pulled you aside. You hadn’t been listening to what they were saying regardless.
In a few quick strides, you reach Rex and slide your hand over his arm. He tenses at first, then relaxes when he realizes it’s you, his brows pinching upward.
“Sorry, I haven’t got to see my husband all day, I must steal him away.” You tell the family member, pulling Rex away before they could reply.
“Thank you.” Rex murmurs from behind you, sounding almost heart wrenchingly genuine.
“Follow me.” You weave through the tables, stepping over bags and coats until you’re at the edge of the outdoor patio. The second dance has started. Luckily, for the first time all evening, it seems like everyone is pretty absorbed with themselves and their company. Rex is still following, not sure where you’re going but not outwardly voicing it. When you reach the edge of the patio, you slip off your heels, rubbing the ridges worn into your ankle.
The wooded area is lit by lanterns, some are on poles near the benches and tables, others are hanging from the surrounding trees. A few people are scattered around, Amanda and Rudy have made their way to one of the benches, both nursing a beer that you were sure they must have had to ask Eve for.
Pushing forward once again, you grab Rex’s hand, intertwining his fingers with yours to urge him on quicker. In less than a minute you reach the gazebo. The soft moist grass undertow turns to sleek waxed wood as you step up the first, then second stair. Even from here you can make out the gentle hum of the music, and the low hum of chatter.
“I figured we could both use some quiet.”
“Damn right.” Rex sighs out, running a hand up through his bangs.
You do a small spin, taking in the gazebo's interior. The ceiling of it is held up by wooden beams that form a spiral. Ivy or some other form of greenery has begun to take sprout on the railings, climbing up the supports toward the roof. Rex has hooked himself over the edge of the railing facing toward the venue, his arms folded beneath him. You step behind him, laying your body against his back, the apple of your cheek pressing between his shoulder blades.
“I’m sorry my family is kind of being awful toward you.”
“It’s not that bad.” He grumbles. Such a bad liar.
“I know it’s bad. I’m surprised you haven’t blown up on any of them yet.”
“I see what you did there. Blown up.”
“You’re deflecting.” You hum.
“You’re crazy.” He retorts.
You sigh, sinking further into him while snaking your arms around his waist. “Thank you for being so amazing.”
“That’s a very unpopular opinion.”
“Mmm.” You murmur, turning your face to muffle against his back. “We should dance.”
“What was that?” He turns his head to look over his shoulder at you.
“Let's dance. It’s our wedding and I’ve hardly seen you.”
“You that excited to return to the wolves?”
You push off of him, and take a few steps back. “No. Let’s do it here. By ourselves.”
Rex slowly turns, his hands gripping the wood behind him. “We can go over there if you want. I was just being a dick.”
“I want to be right here. With you, and only you.” You shake your head, holding out a hand. “Dance with me. Even though you don’t dance.” You can’t help but grin at his own words at the gala coming out of your mouth. He must have recognized them, because the worn exhaustion on his face gives way to that familiar cocky smirk.
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“I’ve been told I have a kind of draw about me.” You relish in the feeling of his palm against yours as he slides his nondominant hand down to your waist.
“Yeah? A kinda fuzzy feeling?” He takes the lead, still somewhat making it up as he goes, just like the first time.
“You tell me.” You unbridle your powers, letting them seep between your fingertips. All the aches of a long day leaving him in an instant, and the aches of a much more difficult life time lightening.
He hums, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of your neck. “Fuzzy isn’t the right word anymore.”
“No.” He confirms. “It’s warm, addictive, and somehow undeniably you.” He nips at your neck just below your jaw.
“I’m glad to have such a satisfied customer.” You smile, letting your hand at his shoulder run up the nape of his neck into his hair. The short velvet of it tickles your fingertips.
“If you’d told me three years ago I’d be someone’s husband, I would have burst a damn blood vessel laughing.” He pulls you closer, stopping his sways to wrap you in a defensive hug. “Now I couldn’t imagine it any other way.”
“Even with the shitty speeches?”
“Those, we could have done without.” He finally admits. “I don’t think I’ll be invited to any family dinners anytime soon.”
“We’ll have more fun on our own.” You assure into his shoulder.
“I don’t want you giving up what you want just because of me.”
“Ooh, how selfless of you.” You chuckle, unable to take the statement completely seriously.
“I’m serious.” He lets you go, taking a step back. “I don’t want you saying stuff like that, then five months from now, you realize it’s not actually that fun on our own.”
You cock your head at him. “Five months? I figured we had at least six.”
He sighs, taking a step back, obviously internally debating on what to say. Another difference between him and the man you’d initially met. He was so different. Softer, caring, hell, he was kind of mature now. You hadn’t needed to force him into changing, or hold his hand, he’d done it mostly by himself, even if he’d tripped a few times along the way.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to disagree. It’s just that all that seems so ridiculous to me.” You close the space between yourself and him, running your hands down the sides of his arms down to his hands. “I don’t care what they all think, or I would have introduced you much sooner. Although, maybe that would have solved some of the problems you’ve had to deal with tonight.” You pull him lower by his hands so that your faces are only a few inches apart. “I like being with you, alone or not. And to be honest, I was much more alone before you than I am now.” You peck his lips. “Plus, I think we’ll have enough dinners with Rae and Zandale to keep our hands occupied for the next few years as it is.”
“They are leeches.” He chuckles out, squeezing your fingers in his grip.
The music that had been gently filling the night air turns more rowdy, the slow dance songs officially complete. A quiet marker of how long you’d both managed to escape for.
“I suppose we should head back.” You sigh out, glancing over Rex’s shoulder toward the commotion.
He nods, deflating a little. Then he blinked slowly, in the way he always did when he was coming up with something. “What if we left?”
The idea was more than tempting. The rest of the night, just with you and your new husband? Away from uncomfortable questions and bad jokes? Also, you were exhausted. “Yeah?”
His grin widens. “Okay. Then let's go.” He moves to exit the gazebo then freezes. “Oh, yeah.” You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he turns and kisses you. His right hand still woven with yours, and his left pressing to the side of your face. It’s quicker than you would have liked, but full of all the longing the night had left room for. He doesn’t let the moment linger, leading you back to the venue and then telling you he needed to grab a few things and to wait just a few minutes.
You grabbed a few of your own things starting with your shoes then let Rae know you were leaving as well as a few hurried goodbye’s to a few other people. While you were standing by one of the vacant tables, watching the people out on the patio dance, a voice perked up from behind you.
You smiled to yourself before turning. “Too long in my opinion.”
“I tried to come a little earlier, but you know how it is.” Donald adjusted the teleport bracelet at his wrist, pushing it under his sleeve.
“Congratulations.” He gives you a kind smile, his glasses reflecting the lights above you. “You’ve got out and stayed out. That’s a very difficult thing to do.”
“Well, being normal is never easy.”
“Being normal will never be a possibility for you. Or Rex.” His words are bitter against your ears, even if he hadn’t meant them that way. An unnecessary reminder for a day that was meant to be joyful and unifying.
“We sure do a hell of a job pretending though.”
“What have you been up to?”
“Oh, this and that.” A quiet way of telling you that you no longer have any of the qualifications to know the true going ons anymore. The world could be seconds from being taken over by Viltrumite threats and you’d never know.
You both hesitate. So much to say, but so little at the same time. “Would you like a plate? There’s plenty of food, and an open bar.”
“Ah. I can’t. I—” Donald tilts his head to the left, a move you registered immediately as him listening to an order over an earpiece. “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer, I’ve already overstayed.”
Sometimes, you felt a little sad that it was all over. Your time with The Guardians had been at the very least, always exciting. Donald was someone you missed most. He didn’t call. Which you knew he wouldn’t. What did you have to talk about anymore? It’s not like you ever just shot the shit anyways. You would both never exist in the same worlds again. Any connection shared was merely a relic of the past. You’d probably see him in the coming years, but only when Cecil sent him to try and convince you and Rex to help in whatever world ending threat was on its way. Surely, he is as aware of this as you are.
“Don’t be. We were just about to leave.” Shifting, you glance over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Rex heading your way, then turn back to Donald. “It really was good to see you.”
He ducks his head, taking a step back. “Cecil said to ask you if you’d rejoin The Guardians.”
You shake your head laughing. “Tell him I said, love you too.”
It felt very final, even if nothing ever seemed to really be final with your ties to the superhero world. It could have been an acceptance on your end, a last goodbye to a life you’d accepted living until your untimely death.
Rex reaches you just as Donald disappears into the foyer, a dim blue reflection is the only give away that he was now gone.
“They got nothing to say to me?” He gestures with his head to the exit where Donald had vanished behind the wall.
“I guess not.” You shrug,
With his dress coat slung over his arm, and with your hand back where it belonged, slotted against his, you both followed in Donald’s trail. The foyer has a table right by the doors for anyone to drop off wedding gifts if they brought any. Some of them are elegantly wrapped, while other things are in the manufacturing box. It had already planned for everything to be brought to the apartment tomorrow, but one thing caught both of your eyes to the extent you both stopped in your tracks.
The words die on your tongue, as Rex takes a step closer to read off of a brightly colored sticky note. That is attached to nothing other than a full suit of medieval armor.
To my Merlin and Gawain. The door is always open if you decide you’d rather work private sector again.
“Did you send Mune an invite?” Rex glances back at you with furrowed brows while you hold up your hands in front of you.
“It didn’t even cross my mind. It feels like eons ago that I even met her.” There’s no signature on the note, but the gift in itself felt like a signature of its own. Cecil must have told her. Even back when you met her she knew far more than you thought she would. Why would that change now? “Do Merlin and Gawain end up married in the legend too?” You can’t help but giggle at the implication.
“Fuck if know.” Rex sighs out.
You both stare at it a few moments longer. The suit is a few inches taller than Rex. “That’s gonna make such a weird conversation piece in our apartment.”
Rex makes a nondescript grumble, seemingly remembering that your original plan was to evacuate. Outside the venue a car was already waiting. Something you were very glad that Rex had thought of in the early stages of wedding planning. Powers or not, you were completely exhausted. The moment you hit the back seats, and the driver began to pull out, your eyes began to shut.
Rex hadn’t expected you to fall asleep quite as fast as you had. He’d wondered, sure. For the past few hours or so. From afar, he’d seen that soft glazed look, the one you got when you were trying to look like you were listening but really you were thinking about anything else. Weeks of half formed explanations and reasonings that he’d planned to make to you when the car made the wrong turn on the way to your apartment, all made nil after two minutes. Your head resting against his shoulder, chest rising and falling gently with every shallow breath. He’d have been happy if the whole reception had just been this. No guests, no speeches, no on the spot lies about how you both had met. Just peace, and the light tingle of your powers still dimly passing through where his hand brushed yours.
It was a constant in his life now. Every time you were within arms length you offered it freely. You joked every now and again about Rex being clingy, like velcro, but in all honestly, how could he not be? You embodied everything he’d never got the chance to have. Longing, family, identity, normalcy. All of it was possible because of you, and that was something that wasn’t lost on him. Every time that he was tempted to slip back into the comfort of mediocracy the realization would hit him over again like a bucket of icy cold water. Although, in truth, that temptation was never very strong. It was a hushed whisper when things got tough, a faux life line when it felt like too much too quickly. And then, life kept moving.
Eve had joked to him at the wedding that she’d always hoped for the day that she’d see him as someone’s husband. It didn’t ring of the same bitterness as every other comment did from the people he didn’t know, because unlike them, Eve did know him. She knew him longer than anyone else there, and she’d had to deal with the brunt of his aggressions. It hadn’t felt like a thinly veiled slight, but rather a compliment of the highest regards. His effort and work had paid off. He wasn’t chained to being Rex Splode anymore, swallowed by regrets and aches that never went away. He’d gotten a chance at a new identity, and a new life. And if that identity was nothing more than being yours, it’d be far better than anything he’d ever had before.
You were in and out of sleep for what felt like much longer than it should have. The drive from the venue to your apartment was about thirty minutes, forty-five if there was traffic. It’d felt like at least an hour had passed, and trees were still gliding by outside the window. The notion of inquiring about it to Rex crossed your mind, but drifted away just as easily as your eyes drooped and Rex leaned his head against yours. Dully through the thick haze of sleep, you registered him lifting you out of the car and carrying you inside. Your arms crossed behind his neck, the side of your head pressed to his chest. His heart beat was steady. Sometimes you missed how it used to race when you touched him, but this was probably better for his health as a whole.
Had you ever mentioned to him how cool it is to have a boyfriend—a husband, with super strength? You would be sure to tell him in the morning. He should know how much it made your heart swell.
A husband with super strength.
The first thing that you register is a smell. Something you can’t quite make out. But it’s good. Maybe…eggs? Or…toast? Something breakfast-y. More hearty than syrupy sweet. The second thing you notice is the warmth of sunlight on your skin. The morning rays sifting through the window to your left, dancing across your skin. You were still in your outfit that you wore during the reception. It pinches you at the waist uncomfortably, the tag grazing against the back of your neck with each breath. Prickly. A soft breeze ruffles your hair. Rex must have opened the window—
Your apartment doesn’t have a window to the left. It would be on your right.
You blink your eyes open, claws of unease sinking into your chest. Nothing is familiar. Rather than a window, there are two glass doors leading to a patio. Beyond that, there’s land. Lush green grass and trees, as far as your eyes could register. Pushing up, you take in the room. It’s furnished like any normal room, even though there seems to be a lot of intentionality. Everything works together harmoniously. Deep oak colored dressers beneath a vaulted wooden ceiling. The floor was wooden too, a dark cherry that was cool under the pads of your feet. Before you know it, you’re up and walking around. There’s a bathroom connected to the bedroom with grey stone tiles and colorful back splash. You could stand and inspect every detail, it all felt familiar, but you knew you’d never been here before.
Exiting the room felt like entering a maze. Not because the space was vast, but because there was so much to look at. Traveling down the hall, you found two guest bedrooms, and another room that looked to be a potential office. Each room shared the same amount of attention to detail as the previous one. They each had their own themes but still meshed well. Finally you came across a dining room. It was big enough for a table that could easily sit fifteen, but the table that resided there was actually quite small. A simple square with normal chairs around it. Extremely out of place amongst the near grandeur of the high ceiling and chandelier that accompanied it. The only thing that outshone both of those additions by miles was a tank at the far wall next to a doorway. The tank spanned from the floor to the ceiling. The closer you approached the more you could make it out. Fish of all kinds varying from tiny to medium swam in schools, weaving between rocks and structures that were built inside. It divides the dining room from the next room, that you can tell upon analysis. And, from the shifting blur on the other side. A shape you can just hardly make out as human through the obscurity.
Taking a breath, you enter through the doorway, a hand at your side just hardly outstretched. A precaution.
“Oh, you’re up! Crap, that kind of messes things up.” Rex glances back at you, his form hunched over a pan on the stove.
“I had this whole plan to try and bring you breakfast, but the first attempt I—Well, I’m not gonna lie, I definitely ate it. Crazy how weddings leave you starving, huh? I feel like I didn’t get to eat anything last night. Oh shit, maybe I didn’t now that I think about it.” Rex continues to muse on, his eyes glued to his work as if it will catch fire any second.
You look around the kitchen, the infrastructure once again so familiar. “Where are we?”
“Oh!” The rambling pauses and gives way to an electric giddyness. The feeling practically emanates from him in waves. “Uh…” He removes the pan from the heat, making a sweeping turn to follow what you’d been looking at. “It’s our…home?”
You scoff in disbelief. “Don’t sound so sure.”
He crosses the space to press a kiss to your forehead. “I mean if you hate it, it doesn’t have to be, but I hope you don’t.”
“Ah, that’s a longer story. I’ve actually been working on it for a few months now. The most difficult part was coming out here when you wouldn’t suspect anything. I originally had to hire a crew to work on it. They finished the bulk of the structure, but it just wasn’t having quite the effect I would have liked.” He talks about it quickly, the words spilling out as he gestures to the room around you. “Eve recently finished a bunch of classes on architecture, or something like that, and she was able to help with all the details. Remember how I had all those magazines that I’d filled with sticky notes and tabs and shit? We were able to go room by room and see how it all worked together. Of course if you want to personalize anything you can too, Eve said to just call if you wanted anything different.”
His words fade marginally as you step out of the kitchen into a conjoining living room area that has another sliding glass door. He follows you as you go, filling you in on how it’d almost been all for nothing when the electricity got messed up during one of the additions. Pulling the door up, you step out onto the porch. A large evergreen keeps a few lounge chairs shaded from the early morning sun near the far left railing. The air is still, pregnant with early morning birds, and the distant barks of dogs on other properties.
“The outside was mostly all her too. Originally there had been no trees, and the lot was mostly filled with dead grass and overgrown blackberries.”
“So that’s what those scratches on your arms were?” You glanced back at him, remembering a month or so ago when he’d come home with a couple dozen thin scratches on his hands on forearms. “You said you were clearing out shrubs from behind the bar, I knew you were lying.” It’s less accusatory and more a self assurance, a reminder to yourself that you could in fact read him as easily as you thought.
“Yes.” He admits with a near cheshire smile. “I honestly wish I had asked Eve for help earlier, she probably could have cleared it in seconds.”
You pad across the wood slats approaching the steps and following them down. The grass is deliciously soft against your bare feet. Damp and cool, but not wet.
“I asked her to make it as close as I could to how you’d always described it.” Rex looks over the land, obviously having no clue the cord that his words had just struck in you. The stinging tears finally starting to blur your eyes. “I know it could be better but I figure we can work on it together—Are you okay?” His expression falls into concern as he closes the distance between himself and you.
“Mhm.” You nod, looking around again. It wasn’t the same. It was perfect. It was better than your mind could have conjured on its own. It was real.
“Are you sure? Is it too much? Shit, I should have asked or—”
A small breeze picks up, sending a chill over any exposed skin. And that’s when you hear it. A small jingle. The ringing of musical metal dancing against itself. Windchimes. A tree a few yards away from the porch held them, clear and shining in the light. It shreds your last threads of composure, drawing a choked gasp from you.
You hear Rex saying your name, concern lacing his tone, and quicker than he can repeat it, you’ve spun around. It’s messy, and wet and cut short as you shove your face into the collar of his shirt, but it still constituted a kiss.
“Was that good? Does that mean you’re happy?” His hands grip your forearms gently.
“It’s amazing, Rex. It’s…it’s everything.” You can’t help but cry, all the unshed tears from the proposal, wedding and reception finally breaching the damn, resulting in a very damp shirt collar for Rex. He just stands, at first trailing his thumb over your forearms, then pulls you into a hug until your breath begins to level out again.
Then you just stand. Listening to the environment around you, and how alive it is.
Finally, Rex breaks the silence. “How was the surprise?”
“Good. Really fucking good.” You nod enthusiastically, wiping the corners of your eyes before letting out a broken chuckle. “And this time it was actually a surprise.”
He beams at that, rubbing your lower back. “I think breakfast is just about ready, well, probably cold now, but I can warm it up. Want to go back in? I can take you on a full tour later.”
“Yeah. That sounds really nice. Thank you.”
And so you had breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. Rex compared every room to the pages of various home improvement magazines, explaining every tweak he made. And when the evening came, you both got to tuck into your new bed. Not that much sleeping happened that night.
The next morning you wondered if you’d wake up back in a hospital room, the previous day another wishful day dream. But then Rex’s grip tightened around your waist, and he let out a heaved breath that tickled your neck. The screen door was still open from the night before, allowing for the gentle rhythmic chiming to waft in with every breeze.
Relaxing, you leaned back against Rex, relishing in the way he hazily peppered kisses to the back of your neck.
All things considered, it was a hell of a lot better than dying.
Authors note: And just like that, it's over! My first ever fic, and it's finally complete. Thank you so much to everyone who has ever supported me. I've read each and every comment, and I'll miss the community that this fic has had. You are all so lovely and I'm glad that I got the privilege to own some of your time, no matter how short! I'm still working through final edits of earlier chapters, but other than that I have no intentions of continuing this in anyway. I'm excited for another project I'm working on, but I'm not sure that I'll work on any more Invincible related content, at least not for a while. Anyways, thanks again! And good bye to over a year of my life lololol
divider credit: @/ saradika
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