How the clone leaders react to getting a kiss on the cheek for helping you

Rex: He blushes from head to toe. He looks stunned, eyes wide and darting everywhere, as you pull away. The 501st doesn’t spend much time among civilians, often deployed to the frontlines for their consistent effectiveness, so the captain is unaccustomed to gestures of gratitude. He stumbles and mumbles a quick and low “thank you” before clearing his throat and giving a curt nod. On a dime, he blanches, shakes his head, and corrects himself, “Uh, oh, I mean, you’re welcome.” He sighs, winces, and closes his eyes as he shakes his head again.

Cody: He looks at you fondly, leans down, and places a hand on your elbow as you lean in. “Happy to help,” he says warmly. His smile is genuine, not just polite. As marshal commander, he interacts with more people than the other clone leaders, and as the Great Negotiator’s second-in-command, he’s become adept at diplomacy. He understands the need to represent his brothers well to the public and welcomes any small gesture of goodwill.

Howzer: He remains at parade rest throughout, a tight smile on his lips. “Just doing my duty,” he says politely before quickly moving on. He’s spent an inordinate amount of time with the civilian population of Ryloth, more than most clones whose campaigns usually last a few rotations before decamping to a new planet, so he’s familiar with their manners and customs. He’s ambivalent about these kinds of gestures, thinks they’re both unnecessary and yet a happy reminder of his competency.

Gregor: He won’t see it coming, and when he does, he freezes. He giggles and touches his cheek as you pull away. “What was that for,” he asks, slightly incredulous, and when you tell him, he huffs and follows confidently with, “Guess I should help you more often.” And you believe he actually will.

Wolffe: He’s at attention, his hands balled behind his back straight as an ironing board, but he tilts at the waist so you can reach his cheek. His eyes cant slightly in your direction, the corner of his mouth tugging up and his left eye wrinkling as you pull away. “My pleasure,” he purrs, low and sweet. As commander of the battalion typically tasked with rescue and recovery, he’s used to receiving thanks, and you quickly realize he enjoys this particular show of gratitude. He feels he’s earned it.

Fox: He still has his helmet on, but that doesn’t stop you. He sees you start to lean in and cuts you off immediately. “That’s not necessary,” he says sternly and walks away. The Coruscant Guard resents not being on the battlefront. Not that they think their work is below them, but they don’t feel their actions warrant such rewards when their brothers are dying throughout the galaxy.