[The gesture is meek, cowardly even, but he slowly presses his lips to those fingers as an apology. Mark is an amalgamation of contradictions, so many qualities he has shouldn't exist in one person, and yet they do. It's maddening, mostly because he is a glaring beacon signaling for Rex to do better at all times. And Rex doesn't like being reminded, especially when he feels as though he's already putting in so much effort.]

Sorry.

I know that if we're gonna get anywhere, I'm gonna have to stop comparing myself to you.

[He tilts his head forward, touching the crook of his nose to a few of Mark's knuckles.]

But this superhero gig feels like one giant dick-measuring contest, most days. It doesn't help that the papers make it worse, and I know I shouldn't pay attention to those? But, fuck! What I have goin' for me is kinda just it. I look good, I know what I'm doing in bed, and I... Eat, breathe, sleep combat. I have for the past seven years and I'm not even twenty?

[Rex utters that realization breathlessly; it is the first time he has considered that.]

And then you show up and blow all of that out of the water! I think the reason it pisses me off so much is that... You had a normal life, until a point.

[He sighs.]

Sometimes I forget that where you're at is... Fuck, it's just that, it's normal.