#rexcellent

Citrus knows how hard it must have been to take that picture. How much  Rex probably fretted over it, how much they considered just deleting it instead, wishing he'd never found the energy to take it to begin with. Citrus knows how terrifying it is, to hitpublish, to sit back and wait with anxiety spiking in your soul, fearing any and all opinions that might grace the photo.

Despite the struggle it took, Citrus is so proud of Rex. So proud of him for being brave. For taking that step.

So proud of him for stepping away from his comfort zone, to show the world how he looked. To wear a smile, though it must have hurt to do so. The picture has been up for all of five minutes, before Rex feels arms curl around him from behind, Citrus's weight settling against his back.

"You’re so strong, Rex." A press of teeth against the back of his neck.

"So brave." 

Cheekbones gently slide along each other as Citrus pulls his angel back to sit in his lap, instead of where he was. “And just so...damn...beautiful."

If anyone saw that photo, and saw anything less than beauty? Fuck ‘em.

Three fingers cup Rex's jaw, thumb brushing gently over the crack in that right saber fang, trailing the length of it. Citrus lets his eyes roam over every inch of his lovers tired expression, places a kiss against every worried line he sees etched into bone, wipes any and all tears that threaten to fall away.

Now, with the other held securely in his arms, which were folded so carefully around the skeleton dressed in orange---his old hoodie---he lets his bones thrum softly with magic, his soul singing to Rex with intent.

Comfort. Security. Control.

He surrounds Rex with gentle touches. Whispers. A hold that was both soft, and tight, promising all the safety and protection one man could provide. He guides Rex’s head to rest against the left side of his chest, where his soul rests under the black and neon Rexcellent shirt, beating steady as a drum.

Protection. Safety. Stability. 

Love.

Teeth press to the top of Rex’s head---once at the center, and once along the jagged edges of that damaged dome. Damaged---but not broken.

Healing.

Rex will recover from the after-shocks of this trauma. 

*yeah well i woke up a bit earlier to ya hangin on my leg like a koala and i was force to go back to sleep bc i didnt want move and wake ya up :(

Cake’s been quiet and shut away for days now… At least since Rex has gotten back, for sure, but if Muffin’s anything to go by, it’s been longer. If someone’s managed to talk to him properly, he doesn’t know who or when.

Then again no one has really been trying much, just giving him space. That obviously isn’t working though… The only one who’s put in the effort to try to continue speaking to him is Muffin.

Speaking of Muffin, he’s also the only one who regularly has entered in and out of the room, to talk, to deliver food, to gather dishes, the like. And so hearing the knock on the door, there’s only a short pause… Before magic opens it.