[This isn't even the first time that Cain has seen him in this particular state of undress, having caught him sneaking out of the bathhouse in nothing but a towel, and yet Rex still finds himself feeling a little bit flustered. On a normal day, he'd fire back with a haughty retort in response to that oddly sweet if cheeky utterance. Tonight, however, he's already consumed a copious amount of alcohol and trying to ignore the repulsively saccharine fact that he's happy someone took the time out of their day just to see his sorry ass, specifically.
He yells, perhaps a little too loudly-]
SO YOU'VE JUST BEEN RAWDOGGIN' IT THIS WHOLE TIME?!?!?!?!
[It's the easiest part of the conversation to fixate on. No, no new bruises, not since the last time they've seen each other. Even if Rex's hands are growing more calloused by the day with all the rigorous training, a lot more than before, seeing as his healing factor has yet to kick back in.
If ever.]
With randos?! Dude! Some of these bastards are probably carryin' ye olde dick diseases from, like, 1754? HELLO?!
You could be fucking the dude who invented chlamydia, basically! Although in this case, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have been on purpose... Probably.
( yeah, bucko, somebody took the time out of their incredibly busy ( nonexistent ) schedule to check up on you, just because he could. it might not be the first time he's seem him in any relative state of undress, but those were very specific conditions, and this is. different? more intimate maybe because he's in rex's personal space?
fuck, he doesn't know, but to his credit he's going to be as respectful as he can. for whatever reason. it's not like he cares what you think about him or anything.
but he just kind of stares at him when he gives that outburst, stepping further into the room and giving him a look that is mostly confusion and … something else that isn't as easily identifiable. )
This whole time? How— ( he has to laugh, because it's funny to him, and he thinks when rex is a bit more sober, it might be a little bit funny to him, too.
maybe. he's got a weird fucking sense of humor. ) Back home, yeah, but how much fuckin' you think I've been doin' since I got here?
( he has no standards, this much we've established elsewhere, but the fact that he hasn't fucked more than two people … it's either admirable, or sad. we'll let you choose. )
[Maybe it's the fact that since Rex is both inebriated and unprepared for a visitor, but intimate? Yes, certainly. The haughty bravado is gone, giving way to a more nervous and shy version of the hero. Timid would never be a great descriptor for the explosive enthusiast, jumpy might be the better word.
He's flustered by the visit, because while his crippling loneliness has been dialed up to twenty in this place, there is an odd sort of comfort to it. It has been predictable since Rex has been alone with himself so many times before, and if he wants to be pathetic, he can do so outside the judgmental gaze within someone else's visual periphery.]
I dunno.
[It's an honest answer. He has no idea how many people or how frequently, but it's definitely happened. It had to, for-]
The couch cum-stain incident definitely comes to mind.
[Even in his alcohol addled state, he's able to (nearly) slur out that shitty play on words.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he looks in the direction of the "kitchen," which admittedly is difficult to see in the darkness. Unfortunately, Rex's eyes have totally adjusted to it.]
Uh...
Do you want a beer, or somethin'? Fuck, where'd my matches go...
( if there is one thing he would never say about rex, it would be to call him timid by any stretch of the imagination; jumpy, spastic, hair-trigger temper … funny, cute, genuine — those are more the things he might think about him, but he's not about to let those last three come to light until he's on the other side of sober, and that isn't about to be for a good while yet.
he's russian, you know? they know how to drink, and if the only thing available is beer, it's going to take more than a couple to get him blabbing about his soft underlying feelsies.
but okay yeah, yeah it had to have happened because he admitted to the whole couch fiasco, but that doesn't mean he's been sleeping around. much. ) Oh fuck, that. It was one time! ( he sounds exasperated but it's mostly for show, because he'll own up to it every time. he doesn't regret it, not a single bit, but he is a little bit sorry that toji ended up tossing out yuri's lotion because of it. and that the stains couldn't be sufficiently cleaned.
he wonders if she ever managed to get another couch … he'll have to ask her sometime. maybe. ) Nothin' like that's happened since.
( he steps a little further into their shared space, giving a roll of his shoulders in a shrug the other may or may not see in the darkness. flippant as always. ) Sure, if you're offerin'. How many've you had yourself? ( cheeky bastard. )
[It's best that if that does happen, they're more drunk for it, as any one of those compliment minus funny, perhaps, would be difficult for Rex to accept. None of them would feel right. Genuine? When he almost never goes outside uncovering his real face? The man can barely let his hair down in front of a stranger without having a mental breakdown.]
Oh, yeah! 'Cause that's the only time a guy like you's ever ruined some upholstery with his jizz!
[Rex lets out a snort, clearly a good deal goofier than usual, in a fairly off-kilter way that... Differs from his typical acerbic outbursts. He rubs the back of his all-too-muscular neck and tilts his head to the side, taking a little too long to answer that question.]
Aaaaah, I dunno! I used to have to chug a one or two gallons of booze before I even felt a light buzz, buuuut... I think I downed, like, a couple of bottles of drinky-drank?
Whatever that means.
[He walks over to a very worn down table, picking up a brown, capped bottle before offering it to Cain in an oddly chipper manner.]
Here ya go! I haven't opened this one yet.
Mostly because I don't want my ugly-ass roomies gettin' into it. Crunchy little motherfuckers...
( he's never been afraid to operate under the assumption that flattery has a chance of getting him anywhere and everywhere he wants to be — but the thing of it is that with rex, anything that comes out of his mouth by now is going to be genuine. even if he has a tendency to say things just for the sake of getting a reaction out of him, riling him up, that doesn't necessarily take away from the sincerity of it.
and anyone that had met him before he'd shown up here would have never thought to accuse him of being sincere.
but, okay, back to the couch fiasco. ) A guy like me ain't me, yeah? ( heaven help him, he's making a valid point here. ) It's not like I make a habit outta goin' around ruinin' furniture. ( and we are just going to go right ahead and move along from that, thank you so very much. leave the couch alone.
he waits until rex offers him the bottle before he bothers speaking up again, and it's more than evident that he's had enough to find him … just left of center, maybe? a little off-kilter but it's endearing, in a way. but cain has always been able to handle drunks, whatever kind they end up being. belligerent, rambly, handsy … he's got this.
he pops the bottle open and takes a deep pull. not bad, definitely not the greatest thing he's ever put in his mouth ( leave that alone, too ) but it'll do. ) Definitely seems like you've had enough to be a little less than sober. ( he teases, resisting the urge to reach a hand out and nudge his shoulder to see if he loses his balance any. he takes another swig, and — )
[Rex chuckles, cracking a wry, mirthy smile of the toothless variety, one that's a lot closer to his signature.
The comfortable haze of alcohol keeps his mind from going in its usual paranoid, overly analytical directions. Sure, the idea of Cain's DNA being permanently blacklight-ready on the surface of some poor girl's couch is entertaining, to say the least, but if he were sober, there's a chance that Rex would start asking one too many questions about the individual who helped contribute to the mess.
So instead, he sneaks in a not-too-subtle once-over, not even quite registering]
Woof, yeah!
[The "yeah" is punctuated with its own verbal gunpowder, loud, raucous, but slightly more unhinged than the typical Rex Splode nonsense. It's less intentionally overbearing so much as it is excited. The young hero's typical brand of noise pollution is also lacking in its typical dripping sarcasm,]
Who knew regular-degular me would be such a fucking lightweight, huh?
[Okay, now that was sarcasm. Rex has definitely been through a shitload of booze tonight, as he's still maintained his original bodyweight, even if said body is not quite as impenetrable as it used to be.]
Usually? I've gotta drink myself through an entire warehouse shelf for my head to feel this funny. On one hand, you probably run through booze a lot slower, but on the other...
[Before addressing that last question, there's a loud burp. Well, at least Rex is finally having some fun around here.]
Awwww, what?
You've never had to fight your fair share of winged assholes off a piece of your day-old jerky? C'mon, man!
( less-than-sober or not, rex would be more than welcome to ask whatever questions he feels like asking, because it isn't like cain has anything going on worth hiding; he's never gone out of his way to hide anything he does anyway, he isn't about to start now, but if the other doesn't want to know … or thinks he doesn't want to know, he can deflect his own thoughts with whatever he wants as much as he wants.
don't think he misses that incredibly unsubtle once-over, though. you can keep looking if you want. go ahead. )
I think it's cute, honestly. ( he hums around the mouth of the bottle he'd given him, wondering just how not-sober rex is and how much he'll let him get away with as far as his shameless flirting goes. ) Downright precious, even. ( and okay maybe he's going out of his way to be a little more teasing than he would be otherwise —
but don't make it easy? or so much fun? and he wouldn't do it! you brought this on yourself. ) What kinda drunk are you, anyway? You're already mouthy so I don't see that goin' away … cuddly? Handsy? ( he pauses, waggling his eyebrows for emphasis, knowing good and damned well that he's being an absolute shitlord. ) Not gonna mind at all if it's the last one … consider this my general offerin' of consent before you go gettin' your panties all twisted about it.
( just making sure you understand that part. but honestly who knows how this night is going to go once both of you are on the left side of sober.
cain blinks at the response he gets, brows knitting together. ) … No?
[The alcohol is doing quite a bit of leg-work on Rex's normally cantankerous nature, although the inebriated haze isn't the only reason. Having been so deeply isolated for most of his life, whether it be due to immense poverty or the bloody occupation that got him out of it, he's had very little chances to make friends, and it usually doesn't happen very easily.
A real smile cracks through Rex's angryboy exterior, faint dimples emerging at either side of of his mouth. Jokingly, with an air of oddly sheepish bashfulness, he shoves Cain's shoulder ever so lightly.]
Don't call me that.
[Precious. Valuable.
He says it in a way he hopes will sound like he's doing his best to preserve his masculinity, even though there's a sparkle in his eyes that suddenly focus on the hand that's touching the other brawler, which he removes right at that mention of being handsy.]
I dunno, I'm more fun and shit. I guess I turn into party Rex, or somebody even cooler, 'cause I'm feelin' it more...
[It is in this moment that Rex realizes he's probably standing too close to the other man, and that he's watching the way Cain's lips close around the top of that bottle. Quietly, he notes how Cain's piercings really do suit him, that they're cute, although Rex isn't quite used to feeling that way about men who "look" like men, whatever the fuck that means.]
Yoooooo, really?
So you've never seen a cockroach in person before?
( he thinks he means don't call him cute, and there is a part of him that hopes he's close to figuring out what the name means; have you been paying attention, rexy boy? have you been able to put two and two together yet?
( honestly we wouldn't be surprised if you didn't, just because the dots are still a little bit too far apart to connect so easily, but it's not so far of a stretch if you put a couple of brain cells together, either. )
that smile, though. that smile is something he realizes for being as genuine as it is, and he … appreciates it. is grateful for it, even, and the fact that he was the one to bring it around? it brings a stupid kind of warmth to the center of his chest that he tries to breathe around and finds he can't for a handful of seconds.
weird. cool. moving right along.
he's nowhere near as far gone as the other is, but that doesn't stop him from reaching out to grab the hand he tries to pull back and tease the tips of his fingers very, very briefly before letting that point of contact go. he doesn't have any trouble at all being handsy, it's been more than obvious up to now, surely, but maybe he's already getting a bit bolder. ) Party Rex … ( he chuckles low under his breath. )
So how much shit ends up gettin' wrecked when you morph into party Rex? ( why are you trying to be funny. leave the jokes to the actual funny guy here. jesus heironymous christ.
aaand then he nearly chokes on his next mouthful. ayo.)
[Rex doesn't smile like that often, primarily because being that happy is so dangerous for him. Joy that comes from a vulnerable sort of brightness always seems to screw him over in the end, exposing the too tender of flesh of his always rapidly beating heart, a sensitive organ, floundering about after years of abuse and disrepair. He's not totally trashed just yet, moreso meandering about in a happy, tipsy place, giddy and excited that someone he actually enjoys the company of has come to check on him unprovoked...]
Usually? A buncha pretty people's backs.
[...]
...Aaaand a couple of home appliances, mostly toasters, anyways-
[As suave as Rex believes he's being, he's totally lost in thought when Cain plays with his fingers, the pads of his own rounding at the ends and lingering in the air even after the physical contact between them is over.
He's also got no freaking clue what the nickname means, only glomming onto the fact that it is probably affectionate, which largely is to blame for some of the logical holdup. Rex is a lot better at connecting the dots than one might believe, but if he thinks too hard about pinpointing the definition of the foreign word, he may be conceding to himself that he actually gives a damn, which...
He does, as much as he'd hate to admit it.]
I said cock-a-roach, not public lice. Louse! Whaaaat-ever.
[Rex leans inwards once again, somewhat unintentionally closing a portion of the gap between them.]
Don't worry.
It's not some kinda creepy dick worm! It's more like a... Teeny-tiny, ugly-ass... I don't wanna say demonic 'cause I don't think that's quite the right term for 'em, but they're hardy little guys!
[why in this moment does he sound like he almost likes them-]
You don't get bugs up there? Well, maybe that's for the best.
I'm sure with the radiation ya get on Mars, one regular-sized roach might grow to be as big as a pitbull, someday.
( yeah, well. he's more than decided he cares about this asshole in more than a couple of ways, and when he'd come in — when he'd admitted that he hadn't seen his face in a while — there had been some genuine concern for his wellbeing. maybe he's gotten used to rex's company, maybe he kind of misses the sound of his stupid raspy voice when he's not around, maybe he'll miss the shape of his smile if he doesn't see it for a while after this —
hell. that just makes him think that he wants to make sure it stays where it is, makes sure he's the one that puts it there. keeps it there.
he snorts at the reply he gets, though. shakes his head. ) Atta boy. Pretty much what I was figurin'.
( mostly about putting people's backs out, but. that's neither here nor there.
he would keep up that contact if he thought it wouldn't be too much, but he's still too sober to let something like that slide; as irresponsible as he likes to be, more often than not, he cares what rex thinks of him at the end of the day, and even though he's more than realized his status as a fuckboy in his eyes ( it doesn't matter if that term exists in his universe, that's what he is ) he … doesn't want to give off the wrong impression.
clearly, he needs to take another pull from his bottle. that'll keep him from thinking too much. right?
rex leans in, closing some of the distance between them again and cain scoots closer, whether he realizes it or not, listening to the explanation he gives with the sort of rapt attention one might give — well. the sort of attention he'd given when he was talking about earth during their gym date.
dumb.) No!? I mean. ( his voice didn't crack. not in the slightest. ) No … bugs. S'big as a— what? ( rex. buddy. please start making sense. do you think he knows what a pitbull is??? )
[Cain's confession evokes a peculiar tenderness within the new Guardian, as Rex knows what it's like to be so isolated. He suddenly looks more wistful, more gentle, as he silently ruminates on the memory of finally watching his first feature film at the age of fourteen, tucked away within the confines of Eve's very pink and very preteen decor. He had marveled at the fact that there were fun things on the internet, like social media and videos of cats playing xylophones. Radcliffe had specifically kept Rex away from it so that the child soldier would stay loyal, grateful, and above all?
Clueless.
There's a reason that the two of them veer so hard into the lanes of fistfights and fucking, especially considering that neither young man is particularly old. It's because the bruises from a breakdown or going buckwild are painful reminders that they're still alive, and however short their very fickle, perhaps meaningless, lives may be, that they are exciting.]
Well, if they make your skin crawl? I'll take care of 'em!
There's a knife under my pillow for this very specific purpose. I might be drunk? But my kill-reflex is still on fuckin' point, babe.
[Rex aches from within, craving the warmth of intimate, affectionate touch. Cain has been flirting with him all the while, which makes Rex wonder how the older boy can handle it- Flitting between all these flings and not putting every single one of them off or getting too attached. He wishes he could be the same, and that he wasn't so greedy, wanting not just carnal desire but love, especially when he doesn't deserve it.]
( his isolation is due in whole to being literally isolated from the world humans originate from, and who's to say what things are really like on earth now, anyway? he likes to pretend he knows more about it than he actually does, and whether or not rex has picked up on that level of posturing by now, it's being effectively dragged to the frontline that he doesn't know jack shit.
something as simple as cockroaches. and pitbulls. he'd probably really like them if he ever met one, though. giant heads and bodes nothing but muscle, but literal sweethearts?
yeah … he'd definitely be a dog person if he had the chance to be.
the endearment babe comes out of his mouth and he blinks, a couple of times, unsure if he'd even heard him correctly in the first place; a word's just a word, sure, and maybe he hadn't meant to say it at all, but cain finds he likes it more than he probably should, and wouldn't exactly mind if he said it again. or just more often in general. )
Oh yeah. hot stuff? Gonna be my bodyguard in boxers?
( he's grinning like he can't help it, and are you even wearing boxers, rex? or are they tighty whities? doesn't matter, really, because the alliteration was worth it.
and of course it goes without saying that he could have all the intimate, affectionate touches he wanted — if he'd just let him know it's all right. he's been flirting, yeah, and he's been a bit aggressive with it but he's never going to be the kind of asshole to push physical boundaries if there's a clear-cut line. … well, he might have been in the very beginning, because he'd pushed every boundary with abel, but. he's had a bit of character development since then.
and he doesn't ( tries not to, at least ) get attached because people always leave. he never gets to keep anything for himself, so it's better to not want it in the first place.
bottom lip against the edge of the bottle's mouth, he peers over at rex curiously. ) Sure. Shoot.
[They're white boxer briefs, unfortunately. And, considering his line of work and constant proximity to physical torture- Why?!?!?! But I digress.
There's a slight of panic in Rex's face, he tenses up entirely when he realized what he's just said. Then again, sometimes it pays to be perceived as a douchebag, because perhaps, just perhaps, Cain will believe this is some shitty thing he says to anyone who he finds the least bit attractive.
That may be partially true.
Unfortunately, he really meant it that time.]
Don't act like you wouldn't be into that!
You'd probably be turned on at the sight of blood on my pecs, ya sicko-
[Rex scoffs, kicking at the ground. He chugs whatever is left of his drink all too fast, abruptly setting the glass bottle down afterwards. The younger man lets out a sigh, his pretty mouth hanging open as he tries to parse the mangled words in his psyche into a sentence.]
So, FYI, I don't usually do dudes? And, officially, I've never done a dude... But I've kinda-sorta been seein' this guy for a while, and like...
He wants me around? But does not wanna fuck me.
That's... That's weird, right?
Like I'll sleep over, but we won't... Y'know. Not even a few randy-handys!
![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rexyboi
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He yells, perhaps a little too loudly-]
SO YOU'VE JUST BEEN RAWDOGGIN' IT THIS
WHOLE TIME?!?!?!?![It's the easiest part of the conversation to fixate on. No, no new bruises, not since the last time they've seen each other. Even if Rex's hands are growing more calloused by the day with all the rigorous training, a lot more than before, seeing as his healing factor has yet to kick back in.
If ever.]
With randos?! Dude! Some of these bastards are probably carryin' ye olde dick diseases from, like, 1754? HELLO?!
You could be fucking the dude who invented chlamydia, basically! Although in this case, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have been on purpose... Probably.
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fuck, he doesn't know, but to his credit he's going to be as respectful as he can. for whatever reason.
it's not like he cares what you think about him or anything.but he just kind of stares at him when he gives that outburst, stepping further into the room and giving him a look that is mostly confusion and … something else that isn't as easily identifiable. )
This whole time? How— ( he has to laugh, because it's funny to him, and he thinks when rex is a bit more sober, it might be a little bit funny to him, too.
maybe. he's got a weird fucking sense of humor. ) Back home, yeah, but how much fuckin' you think I've been doin' since I got here?
( he has no standards, this much we've established elsewhere, but the fact that he hasn't fucked more than two people … it's either admirable, or sad. we'll let you choose. )
no subject
He's flustered by the visit, because while his crippling loneliness has been dialed up to twenty in this place, there is an odd sort of comfort to it. It has been predictable since Rex has been alone with himself so many times before, and if he wants to be pathetic, he can do so outside the judgmental gaze within someone else's visual periphery.]
I dunno.
[It's an honest answer. He has no idea how many people or how frequently, but it's definitely happened. It had to, for-]
The couch cum-stain incident definitely comes to mind.
[Even in his alcohol addled state, he's able to (nearly) slur out that shitty play on words.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he looks in the direction of the "kitchen," which admittedly is difficult to see in the darkness. Unfortunately, Rex's eyes have totally adjusted to it.]
Uh...
Do you want a beer, or somethin'? Fuck, where'd my matches go...
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he's russian, you know? they know how to drink, and if the only thing available is beer, it's going to take more than a couple to get him blabbing about his
softunderlying feelsies.but okay yeah, yeah it had to have happened because he admitted to the whole couch fiasco, but that doesn't mean he's been sleeping around. much. ) Oh fuck, that. It was one time! ( he sounds exasperated but it's mostly for show, because he'll own up to it every time. he doesn't regret it, not a single bit, but he is a little bit sorry that toji ended up tossing out yuri's lotion because of it. and that the stains couldn't be sufficiently cleaned.
he wonders if she ever managed to get another couch … he'll have to ask her sometime. maybe. ) Nothin' like that's happened since.
( he steps a little further into their shared space, giving a roll of his shoulders in a shrug the other may or may not see in the darkness. flippant as always. ) Sure, if you're offerin'. How many've you had yourself? ( cheeky bastard. )
no subject
Oh, yeah! 'Cause that's the only time a guy like you's ever ruined some upholstery with his jizz!
[Rex lets out a snort, clearly a good deal goofier than usual, in a fairly off-kilter way that... Differs from his typical acerbic outbursts. He rubs the back of his all-too-muscular neck and tilts his head to the side, taking a little too long to answer that question.]
Aaaaah, I dunno! I used to have to chug a one or two gallons of booze before I even felt a light buzz, buuuut... I think I downed, like, a couple of bottles of drinky-drank?
Whatever that means.
[He walks over to a very worn down table, picking up a brown, capped bottle before offering it to Cain in an oddly chipper manner.]
Here ya go! I haven't opened this one yet.
Mostly because I don't want my ugly-ass roomies gettin' into it. Crunchy little motherfuckers...
no subject
and anyone that had met him before he'd shown up here would have never thought to accuse him of being sincere.
but, okay, back to the couch fiasco. ) A guy like me ain't me, yeah? ( heaven help him, he's making a valid point here. ) It's not like I make a habit outta goin' around ruinin' furniture. ( and we are just going to go right ahead and move along from that, thank you so very much. leave the couch alone.
he waits until rex offers him the bottle before he bothers speaking up again, and it's more than evident that he's had enough to find him … just left of center, maybe? a little off-kilter but it's endearing, in a way. but cain has always been able to handle drunks, whatever kind they end up being. belligerent, rambly, handsy … he's got this.
he pops the bottle open and takes a deep pull. not bad, definitely not the greatest thing he's ever put in his mouth ( leave that alone, too ) but it'll do. ) Definitely seems like you've had enough to be a little less than sober. ( he teases, resisting the urge to reach a hand out and nudge his shoulder to see if he loses his balance any. he takes another swig, and — )
Did you just say crunchy? About roommates?
( what. )
no subject
The comfortable haze of alcohol keeps his mind from going in its usual paranoid, overly analytical directions. Sure, the idea of Cain's DNA being permanently blacklight-ready on the surface of some poor girl's couch is entertaining, to say the least, but if he were sober, there's a chance that Rex would start asking one too many questions about the individual who helped contribute to the mess.
So instead, he sneaks in a not-too-subtle once-over, not even quite registering]
Woof, yeah!
[The "yeah" is punctuated with its own verbal gunpowder, loud, raucous, but slightly more unhinged than the typical Rex Splode nonsense. It's less intentionally overbearing so much as it is excited. The young hero's typical brand of noise pollution is also lacking in its typical dripping sarcasm,]
Who knew regular-degular me would be such a fucking lightweight, huh?
[Okay, now that was sarcasm. Rex has definitely been through a shitload of booze tonight, as he's still maintained his original bodyweight, even if said body is not quite as impenetrable as it used to be.]
Usually? I've gotta drink myself through an entire warehouse shelf for my head to feel this funny. On one hand, you probably run through booze a lot slower, but on the other...
[Before addressing that last question, there's a loud burp. Well, at least Rex is finally having some fun around here.]
Awwww, what?
You've never had to fight your fair share of winged assholes off a piece of your day-old jerky? C'mon, man!
no subject
don't think he misses that incredibly unsubtle once-over, though. you can keep looking if you want. go ahead. )
I think it's cute, honestly. ( he hums around the mouth of the bottle he'd given him, wondering just how not-sober rex is and how much he'll let him get away with as far as his shameless flirting goes. ) Downright precious, even. ( and okay maybe he's going out of his way to be a little more teasing than he would be otherwise —
but don't make it easy? or so much fun? and he wouldn't do it! you brought this on yourself. ) What kinda drunk are you, anyway? You're already mouthy so I don't see that goin' away … cuddly? Handsy? ( he pauses, waggling his eyebrows for emphasis, knowing good and damned well that he's being an absolute shitlord. ) Not gonna mind at all if it's the last one … consider this my general offerin' of consent before you go gettin' your panties all twisted about it.
( just making sure you understand that part. but honestly who knows how this night is going to go once both of you are on the left side of sober.
cain blinks at the response he gets, brows knitting together. ) … No?
Is that normal?
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A real smile cracks through Rex's angryboy exterior, faint dimples emerging at either side of of his mouth. Jokingly, with an air of oddly sheepish bashfulness, he shoves Cain's shoulder ever so lightly.]
Don't call me that.
[Precious. Valuable.
He says it in a way he hopes will sound like he's doing his best to preserve his masculinity, even though there's a sparkle in his eyes that suddenly focus on the hand that's touching the other brawler, which he removes right at that mention of being handsy.]
I dunno, I'm more fun and shit. I guess I turn into party Rex, or somebody even cooler, 'cause I'm feelin' it more...
[It is in this moment that Rex realizes he's probably standing too close to the other man, and that he's watching the way Cain's lips close around the top of that bottle. Quietly, he notes how Cain's piercings really do suit him, that they're cute, although Rex isn't quite used to feeling that way about men who "look" like men, whatever the fuck that means.]
Yoooooo, really?
So you've never seen a cockroach in person before?
no subject
( he thinks he means don't call him cute, and there is a part of him that hopes he's close to figuring out what the name means; have you been paying attention, rexy boy? have you been able to put two and two together yet?
( honestly we wouldn't be surprised if you didn't, just because the dots are still a little bit too far apart to connect so easily, but it's not so far of a stretch if you put a couple of brain cells together, either. )
that smile, though. that smile is something he realizes for being as genuine as it is, and he … appreciates it. is grateful for it, even, and the fact that he was the one to bring it around? it brings a stupid kind of warmth to the center of his chest that he tries to breathe around and finds he can't for a handful of seconds.
weird. cool. moving right along.
he's nowhere near as far gone as the other is, but that doesn't stop him from reaching out to grab the hand he tries to pull back and tease the tips of his fingers very, very briefly before letting that point of contact go. he doesn't have any trouble at all being handsy, it's been more than obvious up to now, surely, but maybe he's already getting a bit bolder. ) Party Rex … ( he chuckles low under his breath. )
So how much shit ends up gettin' wrecked when you morph into party Rex? ( why are you trying to be funny. leave the jokes to the actual funny guy here. jesus heironymous christ.
aaand then he nearly chokes on his next mouthful.
ayo.)A whatroach? The fuck?
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Usually? A buncha pretty people's backs.
[...]
...Aaaand a couple of home appliances, mostly toasters, anyways-
[As suave as Rex believes he's being, he's totally lost in thought when Cain plays with his fingers, the pads of his own rounding at the ends and lingering in the air even after the physical contact between them is over.
He's also got no freaking clue what the nickname means, only glomming onto the fact that it is probably affectionate, which largely is to blame for some of the logical holdup. Rex is a lot better at connecting the dots than one might believe, but if he thinks too hard about pinpointing the definition of the foreign word, he may be conceding to himself that he actually gives a damn, which...
He does, as much as he'd hate to admit it.]
I said cock-a-roach, not public lice. Louse! Whaaaat-ever.
[Rex leans inwards once again, somewhat unintentionally closing a portion of the gap between them.]
Don't worry.
It's not some kinda creepy dick worm! It's more like a... Teeny-tiny, ugly-ass... I don't wanna say demonic 'cause I don't think that's quite the right term for 'em, but they're hardy little guys!
[why in this moment does he sound like he almost likes them-]
You don't get bugs up there? Well, maybe that's for the best.
I'm sure with the radiation ya get on Mars, one regular-sized roach might grow to be as big as a pitbull, someday.
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hell. that just makes him think that he wants to make sure it stays where it is, makes sure he's the one that puts it there. keeps it there.
he snorts at the reply he gets, though. shakes his head. ) Atta boy. Pretty much what I was figurin'.
( mostly about putting people's backs out, but. that's neither here nor there.
he would keep up that contact if he thought it wouldn't be too much, but he's still too sober to let something like that slide; as irresponsible as he likes to be, more often than not, he cares what rex thinks of him at the end of the day, and even though he's more than realized his status as a fuckboy in his eyes ( it doesn't matter if that term exists in his universe, that's what he is ) he … doesn't want to give off the wrong impression.
clearly, he needs to take another pull from his bottle. that'll keep him from thinking too much. right?
rex leans in, closing some of the distance between them again and cain scoots closer, whether he realizes it or not, listening to the explanation he gives with the sort of rapt attention one might give — well. the sort of attention he'd given when he was talking about earth during their gym date.
dumb. ) No!? I mean. ( his voice didn't crack. not in the slightest. ) No … bugs. S'big as a— what? ( rex. buddy. please start making sense. do you think he knows what a pitbull is??? )
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[Cain's confession evokes a peculiar tenderness within the new Guardian, as Rex knows what it's like to be so isolated. He suddenly looks more wistful, more gentle, as he silently ruminates on the memory of finally watching his first feature film at the age of fourteen, tucked away within the confines of Eve's very pink and very preteen decor. He had marveled at the fact that there were fun things on the internet, like social media and videos of cats playing xylophones. Radcliffe had specifically kept Rex away from it so that the child soldier would stay loyal, grateful, and above all?
Clueless.
There's a reason that the two of them veer so hard into the lanes of fistfights and fucking, especially considering that neither young man is particularly old. It's because the bruises from a breakdown or going buckwild are painful reminders that they're still alive, and however short their very fickle, perhaps meaningless, lives may be, that they are exciting.]
Well, if they make your skin crawl? I'll take care of 'em!
There's a knife under my pillow for this very specific purpose. I might be drunk? But my kill-reflex is still on fuckin' point, babe.
[Rex aches from within, craving the warmth of intimate, affectionate touch. Cain has been flirting with him all the while, which makes Rex wonder how the older boy can handle it- Flitting between all these flings and not putting every single one of them off or getting too attached. He wishes he could be the same, and that he wasn't so greedy, wanting not just carnal desire but love, especially when he doesn't deserve it.]
Can I ask you somethin'?
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something as simple as cockroaches. and pitbulls. he'd probably really like them if he ever met one, though. giant heads and bodes nothing but muscle, but literal sweethearts?
yeah … he'd definitely be a dog person if he had the chance to be.
the endearment babe comes out of his mouth and he blinks, a couple of times, unsure if he'd even heard him correctly in the first place; a word's just a word, sure, and maybe he hadn't meant to say it at all, but cain finds he likes it more than he probably should, and wouldn't exactly mind if he said it again. or just more often in general. )
Oh yeah. hot stuff? Gonna be my bodyguard in boxers?
( he's grinning like he can't help it, and are you even wearing boxers, rex? or are they tighty whities? doesn't matter, really, because the alliteration was worth it.
and of course it goes without saying that he could have all the intimate, affectionate touches he wanted — if he'd just let him know it's all right. he's been flirting, yeah, and he's been a bit aggressive with it but he's never going to be the kind of asshole to push physical boundaries if there's a clear-cut line. … well, he might have been in the very beginning, because he'd pushed every boundary with abel, but. he's had a bit of character development since then.
and he doesn't ( tries not to, at least ) get attached because people always leave. he never gets to keep anything for himself, so it's better to not want it in the first place.
bottom lip against the edge of the bottle's mouth, he peers over at rex curiously. ) Sure. Shoot.
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There's a slight of panic in Rex's face, he tenses up entirely when he realized what he's just said. Then again, sometimes it pays to be perceived as a douchebag, because perhaps, just perhaps, Cain will believe this is some shitty thing he says to anyone who he finds the least bit attractive.
That may be partially true.
Unfortunately, he really meant it that time.]
Don't act like you wouldn't be into that!
You'd probably be turned on at the sight of blood on my pecs, ya sicko-
[Rex scoffs, kicking at the ground. He chugs whatever is left of his drink all too fast, abruptly setting the glass bottle down afterwards. The younger man lets out a sigh, his pretty mouth hanging open as he tries to parse the mangled words in his psyche into a sentence.]
So, FYI, I don't usually do dudes? And, officially, I've never done a dude... But I've kinda-sorta been seein' this guy for a while, and like...
He wants me around? But does not wanna fuck me.
That's... That's weird, right?
Like I'll sleep over, but we won't... Y'know. Not even a few randy-handys!
[Jesus Christ-]
Yeah. None of that.