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Mark just wanted a pizza.
He arrived home with the same expression as always: tired, slightly dizzy, and firmly convinced he'd never set foot on Mars again. As soon as he felt the Earth's surface beneath his feet, his mind went straight to one thing: how much he wanted a pizza.
Or rather, a complete combo.
Pizza, a 3-liter bottle of soda, a bad movie on his laptop, lying on his bed in his room, and Rex. Preferably naked. And preferably riding him to his doomsday. He could already clearly see his boyfriend bouncing up and down on him, hearing his moans calling Mark's name, his ass clenching around him.
Ah, it would be perfect. He deserved it, after all.
They were days in space, with a team that included Eve, probably the only nice person, Samson and Immortal snoring in the middle of the ship, and Rudy and Monster Girl flirting with a tension that made the air thicker than the atmosphere of Mars. Mark spent all this time thinking about how, as soon as he got back, he'd drag Rex into his bed and solve that lack of affection (and sex) in the most satisfying way possible, and in every position they knew.
But then... nothing is that simple when you're Invincible.
He'd barely set foot in his room when Cecil, with his usual voice (which sounded like a mix of contempt and hangover), called him to deliver news Mark never would have imagined:
Rex was in the hospital. He almost died.
It was only then that he learned: while half the team was messing around on Mars trying to sort out the mess Shapesmith had made, Earth was attacked by the Lizard League. (Why? No one knew. Supposedly they wanted to blow up the country. Typical Thursday.)
Kate died.
Rae was swallowed by one of the giant lizards when she tried to blow it up from the inside, breaking every bone in her body in the process. She survived.
And Rex...
He lost his left hand, was shot in the head, blacked out for a few seconds, got up, killed the leader of the invasion, and only then passed out.
—
The white hospital corridor seemed longer than any trip to Mars. The door to the room opened with a sharp thud and nearly fell off the wall as Mark stormed in, breathing as if he'd crossed the entire planet on foot.
Rex lay there, pale. A sort of metal helmet covered part of his shaved head, with a faint blue glow from the sensors. His red hair was gone, leaving only a few stubborn strands, curled against the bandage. He had fresh bruises on his face, a few scratches on his arms. But what stood out most was what wasn't there: his left hand. The arm ended before his wrist, wrapped in a thick, impeccable bandage with fresh stitches. He looked... small. And so still.
Eve looked up when she heard the door slam shut. Her tired face lit up for a second.
"Thank God. I thought you'd take longer," she said, exhaling with a tired half-smile. "They gave him medication a little while ago, so he's probably waking up a little groggy and limp, but... he's fine," Eve explained, her voice low. "His brain wasn't affected, the doctors confirmed it."
Mark nodded, walking to the side of the bed as if each step were dangerous. He sat down slowly beside her, his eyes glued to Rex, as if just watching him could heal him faster.
"He's all messed up..." he murmured.
"But alive," Eve added. "And with the same idiotic sense of humor he always had when he was awake."
She reached over to the table next to her and picked up a magazine. She handed it to Mark with a resigned look.
"Donald left some. I brought some more. I thought it would distract him. You know how Rex likes those crappy home decor magazines."
Mark glanced at the cover. "Scandinavian trends for compact kitchens." He let out a soft laugh, involuntarily.
“Of course he does. The guy hates movies, finds everything ‘predictable.’ He’d rather watch retro cabinets and copper appliances than open TikTok.”
“Fucking weird,” Eve said fondly.
Mark turned slightly in his chair and looked at his bandaged arm again. Carefully, he touched his fingers to the bandage, stroking it with reverent lightness.
“Are they going to put in a prosthetic?”
“That’s what they said. Probably one of those feature-rich and… I don’t know, outrageously expensive ones.”
Eve laughed. Mark didn't respond. He just continued to run his thumb over the bandage, as if apologizing.
A few minutes passed in silence. Only the sound of the monitors and Rex's shallow breathing filled the room. Then Eve slowly stood up, stretching her arms.
"I'll stop by home. I need a shower. And a pizza. Seriously, Mark, you should eat something."
"I'll eat later. I'll stay here with him."
She nodded, rested a hand on his shoulder for a second, and left the room.
Mark leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He glanced at his boyfriend again, seeing the last of his hair, just a few strands.
"You almost died, idiot. And yet, when you wake up, the only thing that will piss you off is that they shaved your head," she thought. Which was true, considering how much Rex loved his hair.
Mark rested his chin in his hands and stood there, watching, waiting. Refusing to leave until Rex woke up.
—
Mark didn't know when he'd fallen asleep. He only realized it when he woke up with the back of his head screaming in pain and his neck locked in an impossible position.
The room was still quiet, the heart rate monitor recording the same steady beeps as before. The soft hospital light made everything seem a bit slow-motion. Mark lifted his head, blinking slowly, trying to remember where he was, his hand still resting on Rex's chest, rising and falling with each breath.
And then he saw it.
Rex.
Awake, finally.
The redhead was staring straight at him, his eyes fixed as if Mark were a freak fresh out of a hole in the ground. His right eye was completely red, the veins inside tinged with blood, giving him a somewhat... demonic appearance. And yet, it was him. Alive.
Mark gave a relieved smile. His hand, still resting on the redhead's chest, began to caress automatically again.
"Hey. You're awake. How are you feeling? Did you sleep well?"
He continued to slowly stroke Rex's chest. The warmth of his skin was comforting.
Rex continued to look at him, confused, his eyes moving slowly from Mark's face, then down to his own bandaged hand, to the ceiling, and finally... to Mark's hand on his chest. He was silent for a few seconds, as if processing the language.
His voice was slurred, low, as if each word had to pass through a filter of confusion and sedative.
"I have a boyfriend."
Mark froze.
"Huh?"
Rex blinked slowly, still staring at his hand.
"Yeah," Rex said, completely serious, still staring at him as if he were a complete stranger. "I have a boyfriend." He paused dramatically. "And just so you know... he's super strong."
Mark was silent for two seconds. His brain was processing, frozen. He looked at Rex, then at his own hand, still there, stroking it. He looked back at his boyfriend.
Is he...?
Oh.
"He'll wake up a little groggy."
Oh.
"...Oh."
Rex, now even more convinced he was dealing with an abusive stranger, tried to adjust his posture with a soft groan.
"Yeah. And he's not 'gonna like it at all if he sees you running your hand over my chest like that, man."
Rex Splode, the man he'd been dating for months, who spent more time shirtless than in his house, who had once proudly said "you're my hot pet" in front of the entire team... had no idea who he was at that moment.
Now Mark could only imagine how the universe could be so cruel and so funny at the same time.
There he was, worried to the core, waiting for a "Hi, love" or "I'm glad you're here." But no. He felt a slight threat and almost jealous of himself.
And yet, it was still great to have Rex back.
Mark let out a small chuckle. There wasn't much he could do, really. Rex was alive, groggy, and apparently thinking he was being harassed by a random fan with a fetish for mutilated redheads. So... why not join in the fun? He could at least enjoy the moment.
"Good to know," he said with a mischievous grin. "Because, you know... I have super strength, too."
Rex looked at him, blinking slowly. He seemed to be trying to figure out if that was a threat, a confession, or a hallucination.
Mark continued, placing his hand on his chin as if in thought:
"Wouldn't I have a chance against your boyfriend?"
Rex shook his head. Slowly. Very slowly. As if any sudden movement would make his brain slip out of his skull.
"No," he said, very seriously. "None. He's... invincible."
Mark froze for a second, and then leaned back, laughing heartily. Laughing with his soul. That honest laugh, with his head thrown back and his eyes closed. A laugh that inflated his ego to the ceiling.
"Holy shit, I'll remember that forever," he said between laughs, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "Oh, man... you love me so much that you even unconsciously put me on a pedestal."
Rex frowned in confusion, watching Mark double over in laughter as if he'd just watched the best comedy of the year. He squeezed his swollen eyes shut, trying to process the humor, but he couldn't.
Mark finally took a deep breath, wiped his eyes, and smiled, approaching the stretcher with a goofy glint in his eyes.
"Rex... it's me. I'm your boyfriend."
Silence.
The redhead blinked, his gaze more fixed now, wandering from one of Mark's eyes to the other. He was starting to connect the dots, albeit slowly. But that's when the monitoring machine beside the bed started to speed up:
beep... beep... beep beep beep beep—
Mark raised his eyebrow.
And then Rex gave a mischievous little smile, all crooked, but with that flirtatious charm he used even with the cleaning staff, trying very, very hard to feign control of the situation.
"What's up...?"
He's trying to flirt. With him.
Mark couldn't help it, he lost all his dignity.
He started laughing again, throwing himself back in his chair as if he'd just seen the best comedy of his life.
"Oh my God... you're completely numb. This is going to get me into trouble for months. You know that, right?"
Rex frowned, clearly not understanding why the flirting wasn't working—or even who he was trying to flirt with.
And Mark? He was already thinking about how to tell Eve. And the others. And everyone.