sekkritaus | Rex / Andy / Poe Freelance Heroes AU

[ It's become a running joke between them, mockery that Andy accepts in penitence — but she'd meant what she said back then, that it was strange for her, to love someone so much without ever seeing them undressed. It was different with Poe — that had at least started out the way she was used to — but with Rex... There isn't even the excuse of sex. Nothing to blame except her own sentimentality. And that feels vulnerable somehow, even now. The wanting feels vulnerable — and the idea of honest, sober nakedness in front of someone whose opinion actually matters to her.

It's as if some wall still exists for her, against all better reason — as if it even makes much difference, when they've already said the words to each other. When they've all fallen into bed together in a tangle of limbs and need. It's stupid. It's a stupid hangup, and she knows it, so she tries not to think about it too hard. Like avoiding the thoughts means anything now when she's already spent plenty of nights picturing what it could be like, with Poe's hand between her thighs and Poe's words feeding her imagination. Poe — the gracious bridge between them, and the distraction she needs not to dwell on the improbable idea that one of the men she loves might not want her the way she wants him. It only pisses her off to care about it when she didn't give a damn who she was fucking or not fucking just a few months ago. Why acknowledge any of those doubts when she can spend her days in stubborn denial instead?

Still. There's only so many ways to work off stress and energy on a ship. ]

Hey. You busy? [ She leans in the doorway to the makeshift weapons locker to bother Rex, her tone deceptively casual despite her restless energy and habitually wry when she goes on: ] Could use a quick spar — and Poe's too pretty to hit.

He's too pretty to hit, is he? Then what does that make me? [ Rex says, arching a brow, though without any real heat behind it. He hasn't thought much about the fact that he and Andy haven't done much more than share a couple of kisses and each other's company, incalculably pleased on the nights when they all wind up together as a tangle of limbs, their togetherness and closeness far more important than anything else they could be doing. It would be a lie to say he hasn't thought about more. He's thought about it a great deal. He's thought about it a great deal even before he knew what was going on, and it'd be a damn lie if the first time he decided to truly have his way with Poe wasn't after doing a bit of eavesdropping and letting his imagination do the rest, but they've got time, now.

They've got time even if she's not quite so interested in him that way as she is Poe. She'll hear no argument from him. Poe is very, very pretty. It's one of the agreed upon laws of the natural galaxy. He gets to his feet, putting away the weapon he'd been working on with the same fussiness as he does every day and turns to face her. ] Let's have a go, then. And that's assuming you can hit me.

[ She can. But Rex likes to goad her anyway. ]

[ She just gives a little one-shouldered shrug at his question before pushing off the doorway. ]

Big enough to make it fun, I guess.

[ There's a faint, fleeting upturn at the corner of her mouth before she turns away to head down the hall. Not much room on the ship to train or anything like that, but barring any special shipments, the cargo bay usually serves well enough. Expecting him to follow, she starts heading that way, the long tail of her braid swaying behind her as she walks.

She's good at acting nonchalant, their Andy. Her apathy is centuries practiced — and she'd almost convinced herself it was real until she'd met them. She still falls back on it now — an old bad habit, a defense mechanism. As if by pretending, she can hide the fact how much she wants him. Even though she's already betrayed herself a hundred ways — least of all that day she admitted her feelings in anger, and all those nights Poe made her come seeing stars with his hand between her thighs, telling her what it's like to be with the man they both love so much. It's more obvious than she wants it to be, and it's hard to say if it's lucky or unlucky that her and Rex have somehow managed to utterly understand one another while remaining completely oblivious of each other at the same time.

But she hardly remembers how to do this anymore. How to start with someone she loves, when she's spend so many decades using sex as a way not to feel — a way not to care. And now she cares too much. ]

Keep winding me up, Rex. [ She crosses into the cargo bay, stretching her arms out as she weaves between a few miscellaneous crates to take a loose, almost casual stance in the middle of the empty space there. ] Might get your nose broken again.

[ Rex raises his brows at her. ] Bigger than you, anyway.

[ Andy is a pint-sized package of terror, and that's the way they like her. She could probably claw his eyes out before he had time to blink. That's always been a trait he's liked in a person. He follows behind her as he always does, thumbs shoved into the loops of his belt. He's looking forward to a good spar. It's been too long and it's always been something he enjoys more thoroughly than he probably ought to.

He bounces on the balls of his toes. ] Won't happen again. That was a cheapshot.

[ And then he sweeps one foot behind her ankle, hooking it around hers to trip her, his forearm raised for her to fall into should she fall for it. ] So's this.

[ It's a lucky thing then that she tends to like his eyes in his head — not that she means to go easy on him. She respects the man too much for that. And she loves him too much not to give him a hard time now and then. So it's probably just as well that he goes for the cheapshot — because she's sure as hell not above it.

He's got good reach, their Rex — but she has good instincts, muscle memory better than a person can make in a single lifetime, and the second gravity starts to do its work on her, she's automatically twisting, grabbing onto him to let that momentum give her an advantage against his size. She'll drag him straight down to the ground with her, given half the chance,and they'll hit the floor hard. ]

That — [ breathless, amused ] — was fucking dirty, Rex.

Never claimed I couldn't fight dirty every now and then, [ Rex says, looking as pleased as the cat who caught the canary, as quietly thrilled to have landed the first half of the blow as he is to have gotten caught. He had a feeling she would, but that's all right. Half of their spars seem to end with them tussling on the ground anyway, as any good spar should.

Besides, he rather fancies that expression she's making. He wraps his legs around hers and yanks her forward none too gently in a move that would probably hurt a less seasoned fighter. ]

Must be why you still tolerate me.

[ They'd make quite the pair, back in the day. ]

[ Oh, it definitely still hurts — but nowhere close enough to slow her down, not yet. Just enough that it's fun. Just enough that it reminds her how good at this Rex actually is — and that gets her heart racing as much as anything else, throbbing in her chest when she barely bats an eyelash in real combat. ]

Well, that, and you're not so hard on the eyes —

[ A soft little grunt as she works to free herself, trying to tuck her legs out from the cage of his — which is a fucking task, when he's got all the leverage and the advantage of length. Doesn't keep her mockery at bay in the least though. ]

It's a shame the Republic kept you hidden under that helmet.

Nothing special about my face, Scraps. Plenty men out there have got it, [ Rex says dryly, watching her push her way out of his hold. In a real fight, she'd have him on his back, but they've very kindly agreed not to shoot or stab each other in the middle of a spar.

She manages to worm herself out of his hold and he pushes himself back, scooting along the floor, knowing that it's only a matter of time before she launches herself at him - if they do continue scuffling on the ground like a couple of cadets who haven't been disciplined enough. ]

Yours, on the other hand... [ He takes a moment to look at her, with her strong jaw and aquiline nose, the coy arch of her heavy brow and her high forehead. She's always been a handsome woman, the sort painters chase after and sculpters can only try to capture.

Too bad for them. She's theirs. ]

Wish you'd wear armour sometimes, but I can't fault the view.

Who needs armor when I've got you?

[ The grin she gives him is sharp like lightning — and the only warning he gets before she's closing that distance fast, the tail of her braid whipping behind her as she lunges at him. All that natural agility, centuries of experience — but this is just them playing, not a battle for survival, no real need to draw blood. She's showing off when she veers off at the last moment, ducking low and jumping up onto one of the nearby crates —

Gives her the extra height she needs to latch on from behind, legs around his waist, one forearm up against his throat just hard enough to tease at a threat. ]

But go on. [ There's a mean little edge to her teasing, her voice low and close to his ear: ] Keep telling me how pretty you think I am. Maybe I'll go easy on you.

[ Whatever Rex had been expecting, it wasn't for her to start hopping around like some animal, using her agility and small frame to fling herself around the room. She got him, fair and square. ]

You shouldn't put that much stock in me. Or my words. Brain damage, you know, [ Rex says, tone so flat and dry despite its understandably choked nature that it would be easy for anyone else to miss the fact that he's joking. Clone humour, is what onlookers used to call anything too morbid for them to grasp but Rex had always been even more dry than most.

There's something about her voice in his ear, low and dangerous, the heat of her breath against his cheek. It makes him want to show off. That typically isn't a great impulse in the field - not to say that he doesn't give into it on occasion anyway - but for a spar, it will do. Instead of fighting to get loose, he tilts his head back and into it, the top of his head nudging at her chin, his eyes meeting hers, something weighty in the curve of his lip before he goes running backwards, slamming the both of them back into the wall and exerting steady pressure. ]

I liked the view better before.

[ He can see up her nose. ]

[ But Rex's dry humor suits her just fine, morbid as her own jokes tend to be, so it's probably not surprising that his comment earns an amused huff of breath — one that abruptly turns into a sharp little exhale, when her back hits the wall behind them. Might have seen that one coming, except she may or may not have been slightly distracted by the particular shape of his mouth in that brief moment when their eyes met — which leaves her rather effectively pinned between him and the wall, her shoulder blades protesting the pressure. ]

Too bad. [ Her voice comes faintly strained. ] Should've tried harder to keep me pinned down.

[ It'd probably be easiest to try and let go — but she's stubborn, so she stays latched on instead, tightening the vice of her legs around him as she squirms in a futile effort to get a little leverage — or at least some scant room between her back and the wall.

Dry and just a bit breathless: ]

Don't suppose there's any chance you'd fucking let up? Or at least stop looking in my nostrils.

[ The grip of her legs around her waist digs into his ribs and squeezes him tightly enough to make him short of breath, which isn't terribly conducive to trading quips back and forth. Too bad that bit about looking up her nostrils makes him huff, because it's hard enough to breathe as it is. ]

Think I've learned by now that I shouldn't take my eyes off you.

[ It's really starting to pinch now. With a quiet grunt, he relinquishes the hard press of his back against her front (which had frankly been distracting in its own way) and bends over at the waist, simply trying to flick her off. There's a 50/50 chance that he'll go tumbling down with her, but there have been worse things. ]

[ Gravity is a cruel mistress, and the second she slams into the floor, Andy knows she's going to be black and fucking blue tomorrow from all this. But hell, like she gives a damn. Small price to pay for a little rough-housing. ]

Fuck — [ She wheezes the curse out, breathless half from the impact and half from the little almost-laugh she makes. ] I'm too fucking old for this shit.

[ She lays on the floor for a moment, her chest still heaving with the effort of catching air. Finally, she reaches out for him. ]

Come on. Give me a hand.

[ But there's probably a saying or two out there somewhere about never trusting a Scythian who's on their back. ]

I wasn't born yesterday. Helping you up is a one way ticket to getting one of those pointy elbows stuck in my ribs.

[ Rex eyes her dubiously, hands planted on his hips. It's a trick. He knows it's a trick and it's important to Rex that Andy knows that he's no ignoramus. He knows.

It just so happens that while he's not an ignoramus, he is an idiot and he's far too curious to see what she's got up her sleeve and not keen on ending their roughhousing now - he's having far too good a time for that - which means that he winds up rolling his eyes and offering her a hand. ]

C'mon, ba'buir.

[ Grandma. He's really asking for it now. ]

[ Oh, she knows alright. But she's not betting on Rex missing her ruse — he's too good a soldier for that, too keen and too capable — she's betting on the fact that he's exactly the type to reach for her hand anyway, just to see what she's going to try. Maybe he's expecting some ancient Scythian maneuver, some clever martial arts she picked up in some remote corner of the galaxy...

But it's a cheaper trick than that. Cheeky, but simple.

Gripping his hand, she hauls herself to her fee, using that momentum to close distance, close enough that he can catch her smug little smirk as she tilts her head to kiss him, pressing her mouth warmly to his — right before she brings her knee up, aiming straight for the gut. ]

[ The kiss blindsides him. It shouldn't, all things considered, but it does. He freezes, eyes widening, taken well off balance just in time for her to knee the shit out of him. Rex doubles over, one arm instinctively flying down to belatedly protect his tender ribs. ]

Oh, you little...

[ He'd been the one to kiss her, way back when they were sorting things out, and after that... well, things hadn't changed a great deal beyond the fact that sometimes the three of them piled into one very, very crowded bed at night. When his head jerks up again, his expression is laden with intent. This time, he doesn't reach out to punch her back or knee her or headbutt her or any of the other obvious routes to go. Instead, he uses his bulk to corral her into a corner, a hand reaching out to grab at one of her wrists to press it against the wall.

He doesn't kiss her. But he does lean down, close enough that they're practically standing nose to nose. ]

Is that all it takes to get you to kiss me? Throwing each other around a bit? [ He reaches out with his free hand, grabbing at Andy's chin and tilting it up. This is, he reflects, either going to get the shit kicked out of him or he's finally going to get that kiss without getting kneed in the ribs or getting his nose broken. He decides it's worth the risk. ] Because more of that can be arranged.

[ Or she'll kiss him while kicking the shit out of him again. That would be fine too. ]

[ There is, at least, some risk of a broken nose — that risk never completely goes to zero where Andy is involved — but to be fair, the last time he had her pinned against a wall, she was furious. And much more willing to headbutt him than confront her feelings. This time? This time, she seems much more amenable to her current predicament. In fact, the upward curve of her mouth is almost a little smug. ]

Babe, I'll kiss you anytime you want. [ There's the familiar edge of mockery in her voice, even when her words are low and private like this, just for him. ] I just think it's fun when we play rough. Kind of gets me in the mood.

[ Her smile gets mean in the split second before she does exactly what he probably knew she would — tilting her head to press a quick peck to the corner of his mouth before aiming her free hand in a fist right at those ribs she jammed her knee into just minutes before. ]

Really? [ Rex - all right, he wouldn't describe it this way, but wheezes. ] Because it seems to me that you're only interested when you're roughing me up.

[ A small price to pay, Rex thinks, which is a pretty good indication of how senseless he's become in the face of this mess of a crew. But if this is what being senseless means, he's hoping he won't come to his senses anytime soon, even if he's been saddled with the task of loving the meanest Scythian on this side of the galaxy.

He surges forward to kiss her, one hand grabbing at the small of her waist and trying to swing her around, trying to knock her off-balance like they're on the cover of one of those damned romance holonovels that used to get swapped from bunk to bunk. He doesn't bother with her quick pecks; this time there's a low, insistent sweep of his tongue.

And then, when he thinks he's got her off-balance, whether or not that's true, he does the only thing he can. He drops her. ]

[ It isn't like she's never been kissed before. It's not even her first time being kissed by him — but it still stalls her, catching her off-guard despite the fact that she pulled the same trick just minutes ago. Whatever smart-ass comment she had for him dies in her throat. Her eyelashes flutter. Whatever fight was wound up tight in her body ebbs for that one moment —

And then he fucking drops her. ]

Shit —

[ Thud. She hits the ground. Again. Flat on her back with a groan. Fuck. Okay. She probably deserved that.

Andy lays there for a second or two before she sits up on one elbow, puffing a little air at a stray curl flopped over her forehead before asking wryly: ]

...Don't suppose you'd want to give me another hand?

[ It was a cheap shot, but Rex looks entirely too pleased with himself as he stands over Andy, arms crossed. ] I think there's a saying about how many times you can be fooled before it's your own fault, [ he points out, nudging a little at her foot with his boot.

He's not going to give her a hand up - but at the moment, it's very tempting to just join her. On the plus side, she looks good all laid out, hair a mess. On the downside, she's got very pointy elbows. ]

[ She does have very pointy elbows. And apparently true love isn't a barrier between her and using those very pointy elbows against him. But the way she's sizing him up right now isn't entirely in the way of an opponent — that appreciative little tilt of her head, her eyes half-mast and blatant, and the fucking smug upward curve of her lips, like maybe she thinks she's definitely gained something by ending up on the floor. Probably the angle.

Lightly, she nudges his foot back with her own. ]

Come down here. [ It's spoken like a suggestion, tinged in a little wryness that likely makes it hard to entirely trust her intentions. ] No tricks this time. Scythian's honor.

I'll have you know that I still don't trust you as far as I can throw you, [ Rex warns her, though he looks amused despite himself. He's not sure why he finds her quite so charming as he does - he must just have bad taste, and a weakness for a beating. ] I don't want you thinking I'm an idiot.

[ He clambers to the ground, just barely leaning over her as he splays out, a wry tilt to the curve of his mouth. ] Just a fool.

[ The distinction's important. ]

[ Just as well. Scythians aren't girl scouts, they're survivors. Mercenaries and assassins and smugglers. Who's ever heard of one making a vow of honor?

He knows what's coming. She might adore every detail of the man, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't take advantage of both his bad taste and his weakness for a beating. The split second's reprieve is just so she can admire the wry curve of his mouth with great affection — right before she's getting her legs wrapped around him and twisting, flipping them over to put herself on top. Her rough exhale carries with it a hint of a laugh. ]

This doesn't mean I don't love you —

[ On the contrary, her eyes are warm with it, alight and amused despite her mean little smile. Her hands grapple for his, tangling their fingers together to keep them occupied as she leans over him, the tail of her loosening braid slipping over her shoulder. ]

But it might mean you're definitely a fool.

You knew I was a fool as soon as I went all in with you lot, [ Rex points out wryly. That's not wholly true - he's safer with Andy and Poe than he would be anywhere else in many respects - but it's also true that his life would be far simpler, far more peaceful if he'd fucked off to some far-flung end of the galaxy to putter around and live the rest of his days in solitude.

She's leaning over him and grabbing onto him but, unlike last time, he's not fighting back. Instead, his fingers curl around hers as he raises a challenging brow at her. ]

So, you've got me where you want me. Your move, Scraps.

[ It's funny, how often she has a similar thought — that things could be simpler, if she'd left when she planned to, returning to her old lonely existence, jumping between freelancing jobs and one night stands. That's the life she'd chosen for herself, the one she'd known for decades — centuries. It was familiar. And she was never afraid to lose anything. Not even her own life. But now...

She looks down at him, and her smugness softens. ]

I do, you know.

[ Her voice is quiet and wry when she leans down closer, holding their clasped hands to her chest. ]

Love you.

rex & andy | the other first time

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