It's Commander Tano, Not Padawan

Chapter 25

Note: This is a very clone-centric/POV chapter. And I know this is shorter, but I bring fluff and nosy younger brothers. And just to clarify Cody's and Rex's age, yes, Rex is first gen, but – and please correct me if I'm wrong – the majority of the CC's are too. That's why I still believe that Cody is older. His first gen batch was decanted before Rex's.

"You certainly took your time getting here," Cody greeted, stripped down to his lower armor as he embraced Rex for a Keldabe kiss, forehead briefly but reassuringly pressed against his own. Alive.

Rex who, by that point in his walk, had managed to get a reasonable grasp on his raging hormones and even more creative imagination, attempted a casual shrug, lowering himself into the chair across the Commander's desk.

"Sorry, brother," he said, eyes focused on the golden-orange helmet resting on the nearest corner of the durasteel surface.

Anything to avoid his ori'vod's all knowing gaze.

Kote had always been able to read him like the reg manuals, better than his own batchmates who – when uniformity had been even stricter in the early days compared to all the mutations that were allowed now – decided the mutie should've been a lab scrapper instead of merely a demoted CC.

Rex hadn't the faintest idea why he though he could get away with anything different this time.

"What is it, Rex?" Cody asked, head tilted, observing him as he pulled out the ne'tra gal and two repurposed teacups.

I've committed treason. I faked a brother's death. I have plans to go back to my Commander's room to sleep with her after this. And she kissed me. Ahsoka kissed me.

Rex shook his head, accepting the sweet black ale. "Nothing."

Kriff, I couldn't lie to Kote if my life depended on it.

Cody merely snorted, lifting his own teacup to his lips and taking a sip. "Try again, vod'ika."

Leaning back in his seat, the blond rolled his neck to stare at the ceiling instead of the dark amber eyes across from him. "I thought this was supposed to us having a drink, not an interrogation."

"We are having a drink," he insisted with a teasing lilt to his voice that reminded Rex all too much of General Kenobi.

Rex scowled at him, though it lacked any real heat. "And an interrogation," he muttered, slumping into the stiff back of the chair as best he could.

"Just answer the question," he pressed, an exasperated smirk pulling at his lips.

The Captain's glare intensified, but he resigned himself to a night of brotherly affection – humiliation. Once Kote set his sights on something, there was very little that could be done to dissuade him, similar to Rex.

And the younger man had never despised it more.

"You're a nosy chakaar, Kote, you know that?" he grumbled, only partially joking.

The clone shrugged carelessly, allowing the sticky sweetness to roll across his tongue as he waited in silence, well aware he'd get what he wanted.

As his own giddy embarrassment swelled within him, Rex groaned in acquiescence and pointed an accusatory finger at the dark-haired man across from him. "Fine, but this is a secret. You can't tell any of the vode," he said, feeling like the child he had never been allowed to be.

Kote huffed a wry laugh. "What are you? Fresh out of the tube? The vode always find out. You know that."

He isn't wrong.