Rex was known for his explosive personality- pun intended. He was rude, he was arrogant, often drove people away because his personality was so corrosive.

Buried underneath his ‘asshole’ layers, was a broken little boy who never got the love he craved growing up. And, Rex found that love in you.

You were perfect to Rex, beautiful, smart, kind, patient. And, even better, you didn’t take too much offence to his cruel jokes.

The way you would hold Rex was all he wanted. He craved your touch, he had withdrawal when you would pull away from a kiss and would often hug his pillow at night with your shirt on it so that he didn’t feel so alone. Rex was a pathetic man around you.

Those words…“my pretty boy” was all Rex needed to hear for him to melt into putty. His face pushed into your palm and he let out a needy whine. Oh he loved this praise- he loved being seen as more than a jerk, more than ‘that guardian’ or ‘that kid from teen team.’

He was somebody, with you. somebody pretty and desired. And Rex had never been happier.