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When the lid on top of the Bin of Storajj opens just a smidge and a rope lowers down, Lucy dares to hope that everyone is going to be saved. Instead, that guy who had been hanging around Emmet—Rex—slips in with a pair of velociraptors. Wait. Hadn’t it been his plan to destroy the ceremony? Lucy’s heart sinks. “Oh no.” “Hey,” a glitter-covered Systarian citizen close to the newcomers says, “you look like the heroic type. Are you here to rescue—” They interrupt themselves with a cry as Rex stomps on their face. Grinning, he grinds his heel into their mouth. “Don’t hold your breath. I’m the bad guy.” Rex and his pets continue to step all over the fallen people mixed in with the pieces of their homes as they walk toward the center of the small space. He’s glaring at everyone in turns, gloved fists clenched. Then he catches sight of Lucy. “Right on top. Good, I wasn’t looking forward to having to dig through a bunch of trash to find you.” “What do you want with her?” Sweet Mayhem demands in a voice that’s authoritative despite missing her helmet. Rex doesn’t seem to have much respect for authority. He ignores Mayhem in favor of walking over to Lucy and looming over her. Lucy knows she should be asking a million other questions, but what ends up coming out of her mouth is, “Where’s Emmet?” “Oh, so now you care?” “What’s that supposed to mean? I never stopped!” He glowers at her and shakes his head. Based on his hostility, Lucy expects Rex to command his raptors to eat her. Instead he picks up her numb body and throws her over his shoulder as if she's light as a bag of feathers. Lucy’s eyes water at the overwhelming smell of cologne. His vest reeks like it’s been drenched in it. “Grab some spare pieces and then get back to the ship,” Rex says to the raptors. They snarl affirmatives and begin to nose at the wreckage. Lucy tries to struggle, kick, anything, but only succeeds in twitching her fingers. It makes it all the more frustrating when Rex is able to crouch down to examine some bricks. “How can you move?” She asks through her teeth.
“I’m still involved in the plot, duh. I can’t be lying around this scrapheap. You’ll be fine once you’re out of this system. Probably.” Rex apparently doesn’t find any pieces worth keeping because he straightens up and heads back towards where he came in. Lucy has no idea how Rex begins to scale the rope one-handed since she’s facing the wrong way. She can only stare down at the others. Sweet Mayhem’s terrified expression is the last thing Lucy sees before she’s taken into the ship. Lucy can already feel her ability to move coming back when Rex crosses the threshold, bit by bit. Unfortunately, they’re mostly useless movements like scrunching her nose. Since she can’t act right now, Lucy knows she should at least try to keep track of where he’s taking her so she can retrace the steps to get out. It’s not easy. The ship is huge and complex in its layout with very few identifiable landmarks and a lot of raptors that could stop her. They arrive at the bridge. Rex drops Lucy into a chair before going to work plugging coordinates into the ship’s controls. In no time at all the stars are reduced to smears of light as the ship hurtles through space. As soon as she can sit up, Lucy starts to rub feeling back into her arms. The discomfort of numbness is quickly replaced by overheating. Despite the ship being full of warm-blooded velociraptors, it feels like the heater on the bridge is on full blast. She can only imagine it’s like that because Rex walks around with his sleeves torn off. After a second of deliberation, she removes her hoodie, leaving her in a black tank, and ties it around her waist. Rex hears the rustling of cloth and glances away from the controls to look at Lucy. She can feel his gaze lingering on the way her undershirt hugs her breasts in a way her baggy hoodie hadn’t. She crosses her arms, realizing too late she's only deepening her cleavage rather than hiding it. Lucy lifts an arm up and yanks her fingers through her pink-and-blue bangs, unnerved by the intensity of Rex's stare. She clears her throat. “Well, since I have your attention now... you still haven’t answered me: where’s Emmet? What did you do to him?” “That’s ’cause I don’t feel like answering you. He’s right where he should be and that’s all you need to know.” Rex responds to any further questions about Emmet with smirky, infuriating silence. Lucy decides to change tact. “Why would you get me out of Storajj? Did you suddenly grow a conscience?” “Ha! Don’t get it twisted. The only person I care about is me,” Rex says, jabbing his thumb at his sternum. “You’re only here because—” He falters and looks away. The abrupt departure from complete self-assurance gives Lucy whiplash. “Because..?” Lucy prompts. He looks back and grins smarmily. “Because the raptors aren’t great to talk to and I’m bored. With the Systarians defeated I have one less major galactic enemy to fight.” “You're... lonely?” Rex scoffs and itches his stubbly cheek. “I didn’t say that.” “You didn’t have to. I can’t imagine someone like you is great at making friends outside of killer lizards.” That seems to be a sore spot. Rex’s entire bearing tenses up. His broad smile appears forced when he snaps out, “Hey, are you hungry?” “I—” “Good, ’cause I’m starving.” Rex turns his back on her and walks over to one of the many machines nearby. Lucy doesn’t know what she’s expecting—a weapon, probably—but he just presses a button that causes a metal panel to slide away to reveal a mini fridge. So he is just getting something to eat after all. Throughout their entire conversation, Lucy tried to work up movement throughout her entire body with subtle shifting so that Rex wouldn’t realize that she’s become mobile again. She eases to her feet. Rex, meanwhile, crouches down in front of the fridge and starts to rummage through it. The contents of the fridge starts with protein shakes and ends with energy drinks, so Lucy can’t imagine why he’s taking so long to pick something. Not that she's complaining. Watching him out of the corner of her eye, Lucy lifts the chair she had been sitting on from the floor. She creeps up behind Rex and holds the chair aloft. Too late she realizes he can easily see her reflection in one of the many monitors around the room. So much for the element of surprise. Rex cocks his head but doesn’t turn around. “Are you seriously planning on smashing a chair over my head right after I offered you dinner?” “I’m heavily considering it, yes,” Lucy says, adjusting her grip on the chair. “Dinner doesn’t really make up for the kidnapping thing.” And still, she hesitates. For some reason, she can’t get herself to attack him the same way she took out Lord Business’ robots or the Duplo aliens. There’s something… off. Rex looks over his shoulder at Lucy and gives her a smaller, subtler smile than usual. “Aw, come on, Lucy. You wouldn’t hurt your special best friend Emmet, would you?”
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“What are you saying?” Lucy asks, shaking her head. “Exactly what it sounds like. Don’t let my new logo fool you,” Rex says, tapping the R emblazoned on his vest with his index finger before spreading his arms. “I’m Emmet. From the future.” “That’s not—I don’t—” She shakes her head again and hoists the chair higher in the air, feeling more compelled than ever to splatter his brains all over the room any second now. “You are so full of it.” Rex looks behind her. “Hey, Ripley, wanna hurry it up a little?” Lucy hears the click of claws on the floor before she glances back and sees a velociraptor all but on top of her. Ripley locks her jaws around the back of the chair and yanks on it. Lucy turns, plants her feet, and keeps a firm grip. A round of tug-of-war commences. She’s able to hold her own for a good, long while, longer than a person pitted against a dinosaur ought to. Rex proves to be her undoing. He comes up from behind and wraps his arms around her, startling Lucy into letting go of the chair. His brawny chest presses up against the back of her head with each subtle breath. She turns to glare up at Rex, irritated by the calm tempo of his breathing and heartbeat. He hadn’t been all that worried, had he? “You really need to be faster, girl,” Rex says, shaking his head at Ripley. “She totally could’ve killed me. Getting my head bashed in with a chair isn’t a cool way to go out.” Around the chair, Ripley roars what Lucy can only assume is an apology and then tilts her head. Rex huffs a laugh, produces a tennis ball from one of his pockets, and hurls it out of the room. Ripley lurches after it with a screech, the chair still wedged between her teeth. Lucy elbows Rex in the gut and slips out of his grip when his left arm releases her. She turns on him, squaring up to fight. Again, much to her fury, he turns his back on her in favor of concentrating on the mini fridge. “So did you want something to drink or nah? I’ve got all the usual stuff like vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, but I’ve also got this green Rex™ brand which is like this lemon lime flavor. I know that citrus sounds kind of weird and gross in combination with the texture of a premixed shake, but it’s all I could get for my brand deal. I’ve gotten used to it as a meal replacement, so—“ “Are you just going to pretend like you didn’t tell me that you’re Emmet?” “From the future.” Rex gestures at her with one of the shakes and says, “No, but I thought I had established that already and we could move on. I’ve explained my back story enough times today.” Lucy slaps the drink out of his hand. It splatters in a thick puddle that immediately attracts a pair of raptors from outside eager to lick it up. They leave just as quickly as they came. “Whoa,” Rex says. “If you don’t like protein shakes, you could’ve just said so.” “How dare you even joke about being… ‘future Emmet’ when you manipulated him into doing something terrible?” She prods one of his pecs with her pointer. “You turned him against all his friends and doomed everyone. You’re not half the man Emmet is. You’re a self-centered meathead and I hate your guts.” Rex’s thick eyebrows hike far up his forehead. He’s silent. Then: “You’re right about most of that. But I am Emmet. Or I was.” Lucy wiggles her fingers in the air. “Yeah, and I’m Vitruvius.” Rex smooths his mussed hair down. Startlingly, he resembles Emmet a bit from that incremental change in features alone. Lucy’s blood runs cold. “I can’t imagine you wanna hang around waiting for me to shave, much less eat enough to fatten up—” Rex pats his flat abdomen. “—so you’ll just have to imagine I did that.” “What? Why?” Lucy asks, but she already knows. If she imagines Rex with a clean-shaven face and his chiseled features hidden under a layer of pudge, the truth becomes obvious. Rex grabs her shoulder and pulls her close. “Look in my eyes, Lucy.” Lucy stares off to one side instead. She grabs his wrist and twists it so he’ll release her. To her surprise, he lets her go without a fight. Lucy holds on to his wrist for a second longer than necessary, squeezing in warning before dropping it. “Why won’t you look?” Rex challenges. “Afraid of what you’ll see?” Against her better judgement, Lucy makes eye contact. Sure enough, Emmet’s eyes peer out of this lunatic’s face. Despite the heat of the room, Lucy shivers. “That’s what I thought,” Rex says, raking his hand through his hair to put it back into its usual style. Lucy says nothing, stunned. Rex lifts his chin, turns away, and busies himself with grabbing another shake. “I wasn’t lying about being hungry earlier so you’d better not waste this one.” Rex opens the bottle and starts chugging the shake. Lucy scrubs at her eyes with her wrist as if she can banish Rex’s resemblance to Emmet if she does it hard enough. “I still don’t believe it. There’s no way Emmet would ever turn into someone like you. I’d have an easier time believing you’re his amnesiac twin. Or an evil clone. Or an android replica.” “Believe it. I’m Emmet when he’s toughened up and changed with the times, just like you wanted,” Rex says, frowning. “You didn’t like when I was soft and sweet. You don’t like it now that I’m hard and bitter, either. I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I?” If he really is Emmet, he seems to have gotten better at brooding. Lucy remembers when it was impossible for him to be so unhappy and her heart breaks. In spite of her attempt to keep the emotion out of her voice, Lucy’s words are a little unsteady when she says, “I was just trying to protect my friend from getting hurt.” “Oh yeah? Look how well that turned out,” Rex spits. “Emmet—” She realizes too late that she’s slipped but tries to correct herself anyway. “Rex—” “Now you’re starting to get it.” Lucy sucks in a calming breath before saying, “Tell me something only Emmet would know. Then I’ll believe you without a shadow of a doubt.” “We’re doing that cliché? Fine.” Rex sits on top of the right side of the mini fridge. “You have to come over here and sit by me first.” “Why would I do that?” “I wanna hang with my buddy like old times, that’s why. Don’t look so worried. Unlike my raptors, I don’t bite.” Lucy rolls her eyes. Warily, she walks over and sits down on the tiny bit of space available next to Rex. There’s just enough room for her rump to fit comfortably but she still has to contend with being smushed up against his muscular bulk. He throws an arm around Lucy and squishes her even closer. This doesn’t feel at all like sitting next to Emmet on one of his ridiculous double decker couches. She glances up at Rex’s face to find he’s gone back to what seems to be his default expression: a huge, self-satisfied grin. “So did you want something really personal and private that only I’d know, or what? ’Cause I can do that but I feel like you’d hate it.”
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“Whatever you want to say, just say it.” Lucy will come to regret leaving it so open-ended. The smell of too much cologne fills Lucy’s nostrils all over again as Rex cuddles her close. His body heat and muscular frame on top of that are overwhelming. “Okay then,” Rex says. “One of the names you went by before Wyldstyle is Snazzypants. And I know someone going by Dangervest doesn’t really have a place to judge, but—” “People other than Emmet know that.” Unfortunately for her dignity. “You wanna get really personal? Okay. Your funeral.” Rex takes a gulp of his shake. “Your carpet matches the drapes. Pink and blue.” Lucy inhales sharply. “I thought you must have dyed it, but—” Rex eyes her natural coloration. “Well,” she says. “You could have just guessed that.” “That’s still not convincing?” Rex leans back and licks his lips. “You want me to talk about the first time we fucked?” Lucy stiffens. Her freckled cheeks turn red-hot. Rex lets out a belly laugh. “Don’t freak out, what’s a little sex between friends? You're reacting like I would've back then.” It's not the concept of sex itself that bothers Lucy. It's how brusquely Rex refers to her and Emmet. Lucy had had sex before purely to rebel against the Instructions, but Emmet had been the first person she’d made love to. Had she framed it as a friends with benefits situation to try and reassure herself with the idea that nothing had changed between them? Yes, absolutely, but she'd known deep down that after five years of living with Emmet she loved her special best friend. Sex was one of many ways to show it. And now Rex acts as though it hadn't meant anything. He takes her silence as a go-ahead. “The first time we messed around, I ate you out on the top level of a double decker couch I’d built. I had no idea what I was doing. One second we were making out and the next I was kissing your tits and then your belly and then right on your sweet little pussy. You liked me to rub really hard on your clit with my fingers while I licked and sucked on you. I was so afraid I was gonna hurt you 'cause you seemed so sensitive there.” Lucy can feel herself getting wet just hearing the story recounted. She remembers everything. Emmet had been so shy but eager to make her feel good. “Meanwhile, I didn't wanna let you touch me at all. I thought I was gross since that was what the Instructions conditioned me to think. I almost started crying the first time I got a hard-on thinking about you.” Rex laughs again, but it’s a harder noise than before. “I came all over both of us the second you touched my dick. Then we took a shower together. I was nervous about soaping up your tits. You told me I was silly for being anxious about touching your chest after having my face between your legs a few minutes beforehand. Fair enough, honestly.” Lucy’s vulva throbs as she remembers. It’s been so long. Apocalypseburg hadn’t exactly offered many opportunities to relax enough to have sex. Rex takes one last heavy gulp of his shake and tosses the empty container into a trash can in the corner without looking at it. “Was that enough detail for you?” He asks. “Or do you want me to build another couch and go down on you again to prove it?” Lucy says nothing. She’s muddled between her arousal and her shock after having such an intimate event with her best friend described in such a brusque way by a kidnapper. Not to mention the increasingly apparent fact that the two are one in the same. She would have believed him from the first part alone, but describing everything else… There’s no way Emmet would have told someone else about that night. It’s him, no matter how much Lucy wishes it wasn’t. Her kind, sweet, soft Emmet has turned into a boorish, arrogant, self-centered jerk who didn’t so much as blush as he recounted their first time being intimate. She remembers him being bright red just seeing her naked, much less touching her. “I believe you,” she says. “Finally.” “But that still doesn’t explain how you came here from the future. Or why you manipulated Em—your past self. Or where he is.” “One thing at a time. But about that last thing… don’t worry about the old me.” There’s a glint in Rex’s eyes that she doesn’t like at all. “Like I said, he’s right where he needs to be.” Lucy bites her tongue to keep from demanding to know specifics right then and there. If she’s going to figure out how to help the Emmet, she’s going to have to endear herself to Rex. “Okay,” she says in a vacuous, Systar-esque voice. “I trust you.” She wraps an arm around his middle, feeling the bulge of his abs even through two layers of cloth. She squishes the side of her face against his pec, attempting to make the most demure expression she can as she peers up at him. A ripple of surprise goes through his body, but he is far from displeased. “That’s more like it,” he murmurs. Lucy pushes down her irritation as Rex tugs his fingers through her hair. He wasn’t always this rough. She sucks in a calming breath and tries to go to her happy place, which just so happens to be cuddled up to a much cuddlier construction worker. Then Lucy reaches up, slowly, some part of her afraid Rex will make a snap at her fingers just to mess with her. He doesn’t. He just watches her. Lucy tucks a stray bit of his hair behind his ear. Rex flinches at the tiny bit of contact, shoulders drawing up. He has to force himself to relax. His eyes drift shut and he leans into her hand, allowing her to cup his cheek. “Lucy…” His voice softens. “Lucy, I missed you a lot.” He sounds so much like the old Emmet in that moment. Her heart melts, just a little.
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“Emmet—Rex—” Lucy feels traitorous for slipping again with so much ease. Rex makes a contented noise low in his throat; a strange purr like Unikitty might make. “You know, I liked it when you said that earlier and I really like it now. Say it again.” “Say what? Your name, or—” He nuzzles her hand as if to hide his face. “My old name. I know it’s super lame, but… I don’t know. It makes me feel things, hearing you say it.” Lucy knows the feeling. When Emmet had told her he liked her old name she knew right then that she’d fallen for him. Rex is sheepish for a second, then gives her a pointed look. “Don’t tell anybody I told you about my feelings, ever. It’s bad for my image.” Lucy hesitates, then repeats his name with the most sincerity she can muster. All she can think about when she says it is the happy-go-lucky Emmet she knows and loves rather than the twisted version of him beside her. Rex hums again. Lucy strokes Rex’s stubble-covered cheek. “Oh, Emmet, what happened to you?” “That’s easy.” He belts out an obnoxious, distinctly-bad-guy-sounding laugh with too many teeth showing, reminding her of just who she’s dealing with. “I work out now.” Rex opens his eyes and grins at her with sudden ferocity. Lucy scrambles to grab onto his shoulders when he stands, picking her up as he goes. She bites her lip; her breasts are crushed up against his chest and the hand on her thigh strays close to her ass. In mere seconds Rex deposits her on top of one of the many pieces of machinery in the room. He looms over her. Then he grabs her shoulders, leans down, and starts kissing her. Lucy doesn’t have a lot of time to consider the ethical implications of making out with the future version of Emmet while in a relationship with the past version. She stays frozen in place, shell shocked. Maybe she had encouraged this sort of reaction by getting so physical with him, but Emmet never acted so forward with what he wanted. Lucy always had to tease it out of him when he wanted kisses beyond a little peck on the cheek. Rex shoves his tongue into her mouth with very little preamble. He tastes like chalky protein powder thanks to the shake. His five o’clock shadow scrapes at Lucy’s face. Grunting, he tilts his head one way then the other to keep their noses aligned before sucking hard at her lips. Overall, he’s really bad at kissing. Lucy has to keep herself from laughing. Some things never change. Despite the huge confidence boost, Rex is just as clumsy with this as Emmet ever was, maybe even more so. Lucy sobers as she considers the possibility he’d never wanted to experience kissing anyone else. He might detect her reaction because he bites her lower lip. Lucy pulls away with a gasp punctuated by the trail of saliva between their mouths snapping. Rex lurches towards her again, stopped only by Lucy planting her hand in the center of his chest. “Slow down,” Lucy says, standing up in the little space is available between them and adopting her most authoritative tone of voice. His broad chest heaves beneath her hand with indignation. Well. Telling him what to do doesn’t seem to have the same effect it did on Emmet, which either prompted compliance or total confusion on his part. Rex opens his mouth to speak, no doubt ready to launch into a diatribe. “Shhh.” Lucy presses her index finger on her free hand to his parted lips. “You can relax, tough guy, I’ll give you a kiss.” Acting flirty, soft, and appealing to his ego seem like the few things that work on him. It's a bit painful for her own ego, but it's nothing Lucy can't pull off after a lot of time spent undercover. Rex blinks once. He shuts his mouth and swallows hard enough that Lucy hears it. The sound gives her an idea. Maintaining steady eye contact, Lucy moves her hands to unbutton the top of Rex’s shirt. She pushes the sides of his collar apart, baring his neck. She hesitates. There’s no telling if her tentative plan will play out how she thinks it will. Rex narrows his eyes. “I know what you're up to. It won’t work.” Nevertheless, Lucy leans forward and kisses the side of his neck in the way she knows Emmet loves. It’s one of his many sweet spots. Doing this carries the distinct feeling of acting like a non-threatening sparkly teen vampire, now that she knows those exist. Lucy shakes the thought off and tries to focus. She frames a cartoid artery between her teeth and sucks hard. The artful chaos of Rex’s hair and her own bangs tickle her nose. After contemplating for a second where to put them, she places her hands against either side of his chest, gauging his breathing and heartbeat. To Rex’s credit, he stands firm for a while, failing to react to one of Emmet’s—and, by extension, Lucy thought, his—favorite acts of physical intimacy. The first true reaction is a subtle flutter of his pulse, then another swallow. He lifts his chin and bares his neck to her with the tiniest of moans from between his teeth. His arms, stiff at his sides, twitch as if he’s having an internal battle. Then he wraps them around her in a hug. In no time at all Rex Dangervest goes from being rigid all over to collapsing against her, boneless. Lucy makes a muffled noise as she struggles to hold up his weight. She detaches her mouth from his neck and gives the swiftly darkening hickey a lick. He shivers. “I forgot what you do to me,” Rex says, voice rough with arousal. “Even now, with brainwash victim hair.” Lucy huffs. With a practiced movement, she flips their positions and shoves him bodily against the console he sat her down on just before. Rex is caught between a growl and a groan as she pushes him again, forcing him on his back and giving her room to climb on top of him. Lucy sits down on top of his stomach and pins his arms to his sides with her calves. He doesn’t look so tough anymore; panting through his mouth, shirt open, a wet, dark bruise on the side of his neck. Lucy shakes her head. “You really need to get over my hair.”
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Raptors enter the room just seconds after Lucy pins Rex as if sensing their trainer’s distress. They growl at her menacingly. Had they been watching them kiss? She hopes not. She still has the Systar heart that she took from Mayhem’s ship pocketed, but now seems like too early to use her one bit of defense. Lucy winces as the closest raptor roars. If they get any closer she may not have a choice. “Call them off,” Lucy says to Rex. “What’s the magic w—” Lucy grabs his throat in both hands and squeezes, pressing her thumb into the bruise she’d just made. “Call them off, Dangervest.” Rex chokes. He tries to thrash free to no avail. Brawny as he is, she can overpower him with her own muscle she’d built up with a lifetime of Master Building. He strikes her as the sort of person that cultivates muscle more for the aesthetic than his Master Breaking. Lucy lets him struggle beneath her for a long second, then releases him. “Okay, okay, okay. It’s cool, girls,” Rex says hoarsely, jerking his head at the raptors and causing them all to straighten up. “I’ve got this under control.” Lucy lifts an eyebrow. “Do you?” Rex grins. “Always.” The raptors retreat with obvious reluctance, glancing back at Rex. He and Lucy are left alone again. She feels a pang of guilt for the start of new bruising on Emmet’s—no, Rex’s, it’s not his—neck. It’s different. Now, without the immediate threat of the raptors, Lucy can analyze just how it feels to have power over the man who’d ruined everything for everyone. Worryingly, after loathing, the most predominant sensation is lust. She’s so obscenely wet. More worrying still, she has no idea how to deal with it. The room feels hotter than ever. Lucy adjusts her sitting position on top of Rex. She misses Emmet’s teddy bear physique. He had quite the spare tire thanks to years of eating loads of carbs and drinking oversugared coffee on the daily. Strong as he had to be for construction work, any evidence of heavy lifting was hidden under a coat of soft fat. Rex’s narrow, muscle-bound abdomen feels a different sort of nice beneath her. It’s the same body, Lucy reminds herself, just in a different shape. Lucy can feel her own body aching for him, genitals tender and throbbing where they press against him. She glances over her shoulder to see the swollen package at the apex of his thighs despite his tight blue jeans, a clear indicator he’s in the same state. “Yeah, I’m super turned on,” Rex says. “Can you blame me? Your boobs look huger than usual at this angle. If you could move just a little further back, that’d be great.” That prompts a new emotion, anger, and that’s easy to deal with. Lucy turns back toward him and slaps his stupid chiseled face with a resounding crack. Blood streams in an horizontal arc from his lower lip, but he’s still smiling so Lucy is left unsatisfied. She lifts a closed fist to hit him again but finds she can’t bring herself to ruin Emmet’s bright eyes or his cute little snub nose even if they’re on Rex’s face. Lucy rests her fist next to his head and sighs. To think she had to fight off the urge to hump against his stomach just seconds before. Every time he opens his stupid mouth it reminds her that he's absolutely vile. “Feel better now?” Rex asks, tonguing at the blood. He can’t quite reach all of it, leaving a half-smeared trail across his cheek. “No. I just want Emmet back.” “You don’t need that loser anymore, you’ve got me. I’m stronger, smarter, and super ultra mega deluxe handsome.” Here he inserts his trademark grin. “Way better than he’ll ever be. If you let me up, I can show you just how great I am.” He unsubtly gyrates his hips, challenging Lucy’s balance. “Fat chance,” she says. “You know what you are? Desperate. Overcompensating. Kind of sad. And gross. Really gross.” “Pshaw. You act like it’s not Niagara Falls in your panties right now.” “Shut up,” Lucy says with three times the conviction she feels. He’s absolutely right, that’s the real kicker. Her pussy is so, so wet. Wet enough that under normal circumstances she would have asked Emmet to shove as many fingers as he could fit inside of her to take full advantage of just how slick she is, then maybe go a little further if they both felt brave. It’s hard not to transfer those horny feelings onto this alternate version of Emmet despite everything. Underneath his awful cologne, he even smells like the man she loves. Lucy shakes her head. For once she doesn’t have a clear goal, but she’s determined that she’s going to keep Rex down as long as possible. Sooner or later he’ll probably aggravate her enough that she’ll knock him out. That’s it, that’s the current game plan. Rex glowers. “What’s the problem, Lucy? Is it ’cause I’m kind of a jerk? What’s Batman got that I don’t?” “You have a weird definition of ‘kind of,’” Lucy says, sidestepping the other query. Even she doesn’t know what she drew her to Batman in hindsight. Was it the brooding and the metal? It was probably the brooding and the metal. “I thought girls liked bad guys, but it seems like you’re really stuck on sweet little Emmet. Jeez. You’re not giving me a lot of options.” Rex clears his throat and says in a voice lacking all of his usual roughness, “Oh my G-O-S-H, you’re hurting me. Which is cool, if you’re into that, but I’m really not. Could you stop, please?” He sounds exactly like he used to. Like Emmet. The difference is as distinct as Good Cop switching places with Bad Cop. It makes Lucy’s spine icy. She leans forward, eyebrows drawing together. “How are you doing that?” “Uhhh, because I’m me?” Rex shrugs as much as he’s able with his arms pinned and lets out Emmet’s clear, joyous laugh. “Cut it out,” Lucy warns. “You’re so pretty when you’re angry, Lucy,” he says in the same doofy voice. “And when you’re happy, and brooding, and—aw, you look like the sad kind of pretty right now.” “Stop it!” Lucy’s throat feels raw, as if she’s the one who just got strangled.
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“Lucy,” Rex says, still maintaining his eerie imitation of Emmet. “Don’t you remember what you said when we first made love? You promised to always be gentle with me.” She’s going to cry, she’s actually going to cry. “I know I did.” It’s so transparent what he’s doing, more unsubtle than what she thought was Queen Watevra’s obvious manipulative evil song number. She finds herself falling for it anyway. Rex’s hands slip free when she loosens the iron clamp of her legs on his arms. To his credit, he doesn’t immediately shove her off of him. Instead, he puts his hands on either side of her hips and strokes them with his thumbs. Lucy bows her head, letting her bangs fall into her eyes so she doesn’t have to look at him. Rex’s hands slide beneath her shirt, smoothing along the sides of her lower back, then he reaches up. He unhooks her bra so swiftly Lucy wonders if he’s practiced. Again she’s overcome with the urge to hump against his belly. The soft rasp of fabric against her nipples feels strange after so long cupped by her bra. She allows him to slide the straps off of her arms. Rex tosses the bra aside and it drops to the floor with an unceremonious thwap. Lucy might have been more indignant if it wasn’t one of her tattier bras; it’s a washed out pink and pilling in places. Comfortable but not something she’d be caught dead in on date night. Heck, even the tank top she’s wearing is on its last legs, there’s a little hole in it just above her navel— Lucy straightens up when Rex grabs either side of the damaged fabric. His biceps bulge as he rips the shirt in half with a swift yank. He pulls the wrecked garment off of her, baring her plump breasts while she stares down at him in shock. At least she still has her hoodie, but who’s to say he won’t tear that in half in some macho move too? “You are just. The worst,” Lucy says, shaking her head. “You know you love me.” “I don’t, actually.” “You will.” He’s making no attempt to disguise his voice anymore. Lucy feels immeasurably foolish for buying into his trick, but it feels like she’s in too deep now to be able to distance herself by hitting him again or pretending he doesn’t turn her on. She knows she doesn’t love him, though. She only has room in her heart for one Emmet. Her freckle-dusted breasts hang heavy, dusky nipples still soft and engorged. Lucy never enjoyed the attention her chest got her during her pop singing career. The matching leotards her manager insisted she and her band wear were always just a bit too tight. Hence her conversion to an oversized hoodie once she became a Master Builder. Rex pushes on the center of her back, urging her to lean forward so her tits droop toward his face. Maybe smothering him with her chest is a possibility. The thought is eliminated the second Rex rubs his cheek against her right breast, stubble rough against the skin. It feels really good. She closes her eyes and bites her lip. He grabs both of the undersides of her tits, squeezing and making them bulge obscenely so he can nuzzle her cleavage with his lips, nose, and the sandpapery hair on his jaw. Emmet always woke up before her and shaved as per one of the innocuous Instructions that he’d formed his morning habits around. As a result, she’d never experienced the tingly scrape of the start of his beard against her. At least not that she remembers. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that an unshaven Emmet had given her a quick kiss before getting out of bed and she’d just been too tired to notice. She misses him so much. If—no, when—she saves him, she’s going to make an effort to get up even earlier than him and make him waffles every day for a month. Two months. Winning Rex over is step one towards getting Emmet back. If that means giving him direct access to her breasts, so be it. Rex hovers his open mouth near one nipple, exhaling a humid breath over it. Lucy expects teeth but instead is surprised with the delicate sensation of the tip of his tongue circling her areola. He takes her nipple between his lips with uncharacteristic gentleness and begins to suckle at it. He works up to taking more of the tip into his mouth until he can’t fit any more. The tiny prickle of his teeth is more than bearable with the hot-wet of his tongue and the roof of his mouth. The amount of pressure and suction has her wondering if he plans to bruise her the way she’d marked him. Lucy reaches down and buries her hand in the hair at the back of his head, struck by how familiar the fluffy texture feels. She pulls him off of her breast, faltering only when he strains forward to give the nipple one last little kiss. She gives him a look as he slowly licks his lips and stares at her with hooded eyes. All the blood in her body seems to flow right to her clit. Keeping her grip on his hair, Lucy guides Rex’s mouth to her other breast. This side of her chest is incrementally fatter than the other. She knows that uneven breasts are far more common than the general public would like to admit, but it had taken a lot of reassurance from Emmet that she wasn’t strange-looking. Rex lavishes just as much attention on her as he had. Lucy pets his hair without thinking as he suckles and slurps at her breast, causing the warmth in her belly to roil. Her breasts feel heavier and hotter than ever. Rex pulls away with a soft, slick pop and whispers, “Hey. My butt is getting super numb against this control panel and my tight jeans and hard-on aren’t mixing well. You wanna let me up now?” That might be the least sexy thing he’s ever said, even less sexy than when Emmet had acted scandalized about kissing in front of Planty. Against her better judgment, Lucy clambers off of him, the wet points of her nipples bobbing. Hard-on or not, Rex seems to be in a mellow mood. She doesn’t think he’ll attack or sic the raptors on her. This is an opportunity to earn his trust. “Much obliged, babe,” he says. Still sitting, Rex stretches his whole body out, grunting as his spinal discs crack into place. As he arches his back, he thrusts his hips forward, emphasizing his package. Lucy scoffs and looks away, but finds herself looking back when she hears him start to unzip his jeans.
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Emmet is taller than Lucy by one foot and four inches. One foot and three inches if you count her ponytail. It’s probably an optical illusion, something in the lime-green glow of monitors reflecting off of his vest or the way that he holds himself, but Rex looks even larger than Emmet. As if his shoulders had broadened and he’d put on half a foot of height despite being well past puberty. Decidedly more formidable than her cupcake of a boyfriend. With these thoughts in mind, she’s oddly intimidated by the idea of looking at his dick. What if he’d done something ridiculous like getting a tattoo or piercing or trying some experimental drug to make it bigger? Lucy decides to pick one of his bare shoulders as a safe target to look at while he kicks off his boots and jeans. And, because her pussy feels like it’s been confined more than long enough, she follows his lead, stripping down to her panties, then, after a moment’s hesitation, to nothing at all. She throws her clothes on one of the chairs, conscious of Rex watching her. She finds herself eyeing his crotch again despite herself because she catches sight of his dinosaur print boxer briefs and it’s too absurd not to look. Blue and green, what else? He pulls them down to free his erection. In the end, his dick looks more or less the same as it always has. Average in length, average in thickness, very suitable for an average guy like Emmet. A touch underwhelming for someone as cocky (pun intended) as Rex, what with the way he’d been thrusting his hips and all. A few swollen veins and the fact that he’s uncut are the only really noteworthy things about his penis. Rex leers, giving his shaft a stroke. “See something you like?” “I don’t think it’s humanly possible for you to have picked a more cliché line,” Lucy replies. She still doesn’t break her stare. Rex’s pubic hair is an untamed shock. Emmet had always preferred to keep it trimmed short. That is where the differences with what’s between their legs end. Her own pubic hair—pink and blue, just like he’d pointed out—is sodden at the seam of where the inner sides of her vulvae meet. Her traitorous body still hasn’t had its excitement die down. Once he’d worked up his stamina, Emmet could use his average dick to make her pussy feel very special. She can’t imagine Rex has maintained that old problem with premature ejaculation at the smallest sign of affection; otherwise he’d have cum in his pants the second she kissed his neck. If anything he'll have more stamina than ever. Emmet had long since gotten past that along with the self-loathing inflicted by the Instructions. Lord Business had made having sex something of a taboo in order to keep the population and rate of disease down, and, Lucy privately thought, because he's just kind of a prude. While she gives all of this far more thought than it deserves, Rex strips off his vest and unbuttons his undershirt. All of his clothes are dropped to the ground and kicked away without ceremony. His body is tight and hard all over, rippling with muscle. Lucy has to make an effort to find the pale ghosts of stretch marks around his hips and navel, a reminder of Emmet’s love handles and belly. “Oh,” Rex says with a chuckle. “Almost forgot.” He retrieves his vest, opens one of the pockets, and extracts a condom. Lucy dreads to think how long he had been carrying that. “Safety first, right?” He laughs again before tearing the foil open with his teeth. Lucy wants to point out that he’d nullified safety by using his incisors to open the wrapper and risking puncturing the condom. Then she remembers he had “Danger” in his name and decided he’d probably done it on purpose. Either way, she could take comfort in the birth control injection in her arm and that Rex comes off as far too devoted to her to have sex with anyone else. Babies and STDs probably won’t be happening. Now she just has to contend with the more complicating factor of fucking Rex. As he rolls the condom on, she bends over at the waist and braces herself over the minifridge, presenting her ass to him. “Yeah, uh-uh. Don’t get me wrong, I love this—” He gives her one of her cheeks an appreciative smack, causing her to jump. “—but I wanna be able to look at you.” Lucy sighs and turns around. Emmet always preferred to face her, too. She braces her hands against the fridge and rubs her thighs together, trying to alleviate some of her arousal. If anything, her attempt only stokes the fire. She has no doubt Rex can smell how turned on she is. He closes the distance between them and rubs his dick against her belly, smearing lubricant from the condom on her. The nerves in her abdomen connected to her clit tingle. She realizes too late she’s trapped herself by choosing here to be the place he fucks her. He brushes her bangs out of her eye, studies her, and laughs a bit to himself. “You really want me.” Lucy makes a face. Captain Obvious. Then she looks closer at him and realizes he’s genuinely surprised. He presses closer and wraps an arm around her. Her skin tingles where he touches her. The position sandwiched his dick between their bellies and smooshed her breasts against his chest. At this proximity she can see crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and she wonders just how old—or stressed, or continually exposed to bright sunlight, or all these things—he is. Or they could be laugh lines. That seems most likely. “Tell me.” He gives her lower lip a nip. “Say you want me deep inside you, special best friend.” Her stomach turns over at the term of endearment mixed with such depravity. When had he gotten a thing for dirty talk? At least now she can test out some phrases she’d been too worried about saying to Emmet for fear of making him flustered. Maybe throw in something in particular she knows Rex in particular would like. She never thought she’d be using her acting skills she developed undercover like this. Still, she leans into the part, fluttering her eyelashes and making her voice breathy. “Babe, I don’t just want you inside me. I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t stand—” she strokes one of his biceps “—and you have to carry me away in your big, strong arms.” Lucy feels his dick twitch hard against her abdomen as he lets out a soft groan. Played like a damn fiddle. If he keeps falling all over her like this, she’ll be able to save Emmet and everyone else in no time. If he’s anything like his old self—and he’s proven time and time again he is—he’ll be really drained by sex and have to go to sleep afterwards. That’ll give her the opportunity she needs to turn the ship around. Altruistic as her intentions are, Lucy loses a lot of rational thought when he parts her thighs with his knee and she feels the head of his dick prodding at her labia.
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Between how turned on Lucy is and the lubed up condom, Rex pushes the head of his dick into her without trouble. There’s a steady, easy twinge as she stretches a bit to accommodate his shaft. Nice and full, but not too full. Like the girth of Emmet’s dick had been designed to fit inside her perfectly. Rex lets out a low, guttural noise as if to refresh her memory that he’s not Emmet. Or he is, but he’s… different… Her brain liquefies and her inner walls clench as Rex sinks further in. One last slick jolt and he’s fully engulfed, pressed up against her cervix. Rex growls, pulls back until he’s on the border of slipping out, then snaps his hips forward again. He starts to move more steadily, slamming his sex in and out of hers. His balls and pubic bone strike her over and over thanks to his insistence on going all the way in every time. Lucy throws her arms around his neck and presses her face to his chest. She seeks sanctuary in blotting out her vision and finds none. The coarse tangle of hair on his chest, his overwhelming scent, and the sensation of his muscle-swollen shoulders shaking with laughter are reminders of who she’s with. With an impatient motion that pulls out a few hairs, Rex removes the band holding her ponytail in place. He strokes the newly freed waterfall of hair, combing his fingers through a few tangles. Lucy knows he’s contemplating commenting on her hair color for the umpteenth time, but for once he exercises a bit of self-control. He disentangles her from his torso and lays her on her side, allowing her to focus on the star field outside the ship. Then she catches sight of their reflections as Rex stretches one of her legs up and rests her ankle on his shoulder. She’s spread wide open with her juices running down her thigh. Rex’s muscles ripple beneath his skin as he moves. He wears his wide grin and pants between his teeth. She and Rex both have dark blush melting over their faces and chests beneath a sheen of sweat. It’s visible even in the dark glass. Lucy can’t work up the gumption to touch herself, too guilty about the idea of getting extra pleasure while everyone else languishes away. Rex takes that decision from her when he rubs the rough pads of his fingers over her clit, coaxing small gasps from her. Lucy was never as vocal as her partners, her special best friend especially. The subtleties of her soft curses and intakes of breath frustrated some of the people she slept with. Not Emmet. He understood that Lucy’s shows of appreciation came out more in the form of butterfly kisses, lingering touches, and post-coital cuddles than vocalization during sex. For his part, Emmet made all matters of moans and hums and the tiniest of keens. Rex makes an equal amount of noises, but louder, deeper. Groaning, snarling, and roaring in turns. As if he wants to announce to every damn dinosaur on the ship that he’s rutting into her. Maybe he does. His pace turns brutal after a while, mixing a dull ache in with her throbbing pleasure. Lucy begins to fear that he had taken her teasing about fucking her until she can’t stand to heart. Just when she doesn’t think she can take it anymore, Rex slows down. He lowers her leg back down and leans over her once more, caging her in with his body. With uncharacteristic gentleness, he presses kisses to her freckled shoulders and neck. Suddenly, he stops altogether, leaving her full of his dick. Rex rolls her swollen clit between his forefinger and thumb. Lucy gasps. Her walls spasm around him. “Say my name,” he hisses in her ear. “Rex…” “No. Say. My. Name.” He punctuates every word by pinching her clit and ramming into her, bottoming out in her pussy every time. Her thoughts are so bleary, it takes her a moment to understand what he wants: “Emmet.” The steady, meaty slap of his flesh on hers starts up again as he thrusts more quickly. Like he can’t help himself. “Say it louder, my hearing sucks.” Rex tilts his ear towards her mouth. “Emmet!” Lucy can’t contain herself when he starts circling her clit with crushing pressure. “Emmet, please!” “Yes, Lucy, yes, more, louder—” “Emmet, Emmet, Em—!” Lucy cuts herself off as her walls clamp tight on his dick. Her eyes fall shut and her mouth drops open in a silent cry as her muscles contract over and over. Distantly, she feels Rex’s body stiffen. He lets out a low, understated moan and shudders as he cums. As predicted, he gets drowsy at once, faster than if he’d eaten a heavy meal. It’s almost comical. One minute he’s pistoning his hips like a machine, the next he’s slumped over on top of her. Lucy opens her eyes to see his messy shock of hair to her right; he has his face buried against her shoulder. She has a moment of panic where she thinks he’ll fall asleep with his massive weight pinning her down. Mercifully, he pulls out with a wet gush of her juices and rolls onto his back beside her. Her vagina twitches and clenches on empty air. Rex mutters a curse when he spills no small amount of cum on his thigh and the floor taking the condom off. “Wow, I am not cleaning that up,” Rex says under his breath as he tosses the condom into the trash. “Raptors!” With speed that again makes Lucy fear they had been hanging out just outside the door, a quartet of velociraptors appear. She sits up and covers herself the best she can, wrapping an arm around her breasts and clamping her legs closed. Her swollen, sodden pussy throbs with a bit of pain, but it’s worth enduring if it means she doesn’t have to worry about lizardy eyes on her. Rex continues to lay in a lazy sprawl. Lucy almost feels embarrassed to have just orgasmed under his touch. “Don’t you have any shame?” She hisses at him. “Nah.” Rex flaps his hand dismissively. “They’re naked all the time.” Lucy hugs her breasts harder. “Gee, when you put it that way, it almost seems worse.” Rex yawns and scratches the trail of hair on his belly. “Connor and Rocky, take my girl to the showers, then her bedroom. Cobra, make her something to eat. She wasn’t into the protein shakes. And you, Other One, get a mop or something for this mess. Understood?” The raptors roar. Lucy has no idea what they’re saying, but she assumes it’s good because Rex nods. “Rad,” he says. “Meanwhile, I’m just gonna take a nap right… here.” He points to the console he's laying on, then shuts his eyes. He’s fast asleep and snoring in seconds, a trickle of drool slipping from the side of his mouth. If he’s faking it, he’s doing a good job. Lucy eyes him with suspicion, then looks at the raptors. “So you guys are glorified maidservants, huh?” Cobra snorts in a way Lucy can only interpret as indignant but Rocky gives the dinosaur equivalent of a shrug.
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Lucy allows herself to be led away by Connor and Rocky, seeing little point in trying to go for the controls while she’s surrounded and Rex is right there, sleeping or not. She’ll be back soon enough. She takes one last look at Rex over her shoulder. He doesn’t look like quite as much of an evil brute with a big sexual appetite when he’s unconscious. In sleep, his hard-edged expression has eased to something gentler and more reminiscent of his old self. He has one hand splayed across his belly and the other stuck behind is head in a lounge. His slightly parted lips look very kissable. Lucy doesn’t know what to do with that thought, so she puts it aside. The raptors don’t have any patience for her going to pick up her clothes, urging her onward without them with growls and a few headbutts. Evidently Rex’s instructions hadn’t included letting her get dressed and they didn’t see the necessity. “You know what? Fine! Fine!” She throws her hands up and goes with them buck naked despite her embarrassment. She just has to think of it as being like that time her band mates dared her to go streaking across President Business’ lawn once while they were on tour. But with dinosaurs. Her pussy throbs in time with her heartbeat, more than a little sore with the pounding it had endured from Rex. Her juices dribble down her thighs and she’s only grateful that she doesn’t have his cum mixed in. Every step seems to send a swell of heat to her belly. She’s conscious of how wet she is as she passes by a raptor-filled skate park and they all turn to look at her. Why couldn’t the absurdity of this situation kill her arousal? If she wasn't so concerned about getting out of here she might have considered masturbating in the shower just to get rid of this feeling. The bathroom she’s led to is as gaudily decorated as the rest of the ship, everything either dark blue or lime green. Rex’s R is monogrammed onto the towels. Aside from the two dozen hair products crowding the space, it feels like a strange parody of a hotel. Lucy is relieved when she spots a pile of clothes on one corner of the counter. She turns to the raptors crouched in the doorway. “Do you mind?” They exchange looks before backing out. Ah, so now they listen. Lucy closes the blast door with the push of a button and… no lock. Of course, why would there be? She needs to move quickly, so she can’t walk around with her pussy and inner thighs damp and sticky. Practicality causes her to forgo the shower in favor of turning on the sink, sticking her hand under the faucet, and scrubbing her wet fingers and palm over the parts of herself that most needed cleaning. A short time later, sufficiently clean and toweled off, Lucy reaches for the clothes. Boxers (dinosaur print, of course), jeans (women’s, shockingly, if a little small for her), a light blue button-down shirt (too big), and a vest (matching his, ugh). No shoes. No bra to speak of. Running is going to be killer on her tits. Well, it might have been more worrisome if he’d had a bra in her size on hand. The presence of these clothes rather than having to wait for a raptor to come deliver them to her makes Lucy think about how far Rex had apparently planned this. Coming to bring her to his ship hadn’t been a snap decision; he’d made things ready for her. After clothing her lower half, Lucy turns her nose up at the vest and resolves to only wear the shirt. As she noted before, the shirt is big, bigger even than Rex required. A lump forms in her throat when she realizes the distinct possibility that it belongs to Emmet. Lifting the fabric to her face reveals that it smells like him: his usual brand of deodorant mixed with breakfasty scents like coffee, waffles, and syrup. Her eyes well with tears. Had Rex really become such a monster he would dispose of her special best friend and then outfit her in his clothes? She shakes her head and forces herself to think logically. Emmet has to be okay, otherwise Rex wouldn’t exist anymore. With that thought in mind, she puts the shirt on. The sleeves are long enough that they dangle far past her hands. Lucy rolls them up to her wrists. The base hangs off of Lucy like a dress, stopping at mid-thigh. Fully dressed, she considers her escape route. There are air vents in here just like there had been in the palace, with the most convenient one set next next to the shower. She hops from the toilet lid to the counter to on top of the shower wall where she balances with her knees clamped to either side. Lucy wrestles with the screws on the vent for a moment before it pops open. She grins and crawls in. It’s a tighter fit than the other vents. Her shoulders and breasts are crushed, pushing her chin into her cleavage. She comes to an unfortunate realization when she’s halfway into the vent: her hips are too wide to fit in the space at all, never mind her ass. Her legs slip off of the shower wall and dangle in empty air. She attempts to squirm further inside. Lucy freezes when she hears the door open again. “What have we here?” An all-too-familiar voice asks and her heart withers. “Were my raptors so mean to you that you felt like you needed to escape? I’m sorry, they really need to work on their hospitality skills.” She thrashes from side to side in an attempt to move forward. It’s no use. “How are you awake already?” Lucy asks, slumping, voice echoing off of the inside of the vent. She can’t see Rex, but she can imagine how he must be looking at her rear and legs right now; arms crossed, head cocked to one side, too-wide grin set in place. “Aw, you thought I was going to sleep all day, didn’t you? Nah, I take power naps now; twenty minutes max,” he says. “Five for you, babe. May or may not have downed an energy drink to wake me up more so I could come see you sooner.” “You shouldn’t have.” “I don’t know about that, this is a treat. Your butt is like… two planets smashed together.” Lucy’s lip curls. “You’re a poet.” “Yeah, thanks, I know.”
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“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer it if you gave me my old clothes back,” Lucy says. Rex scoffs. “Please. Your clothes are covered in Systar glitter, and I hate that stuff. You won’t need them anymore.” “You expected me to walk around in this?” She kicks out her legs to demonstrate the pants, coming close to ripping them in the process. “Nothing fits right!” “Cool it, sister, plan B was to give you a Rex™ vest and nothing else. Plan C was a few pink and blue sticky notes over your lady parts.” Lucy huffs, then asks what’s really been on her mind—“This shirt… it’s Emmet’s, isn't it?” “It was mine. From before I grew up and slimmed down.” He laughs. “So you're right, in a sense. But you're dead wrong if you think I got rid of your precious boyfriend. I have a better sense of self-preservation than that.” “Where is he?” Lucy presses again. There is an uncharacteristic silence. She can hear her own breath echoing off of the inside of the vent. “The same place you left us before,” he says. “Undar of the Dry-Ar system.” The victory at finally having Emmet’s location revealed to her—assuming he’s not lying—is crushed by the hard edge of intense loathing in Rex’s voice.
“And he’s gonna stay there,” he says, “because that’s how things are supposed to be.” Lucy lifts an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?” “Darn it, Lucy, I don’t want to talk about my backstory again, I’ve already rehashed it with varying levels of truth today. I’ll give you the short version: I went to rescue you, my ship crashed into an asteroid, and I ended up all alone. There. End of story. And the epilogue is that you, the love of my life, didn’t… you never…” Rex trails off. Lucy wishes that she could see his expression. Her arms are getting numb from being stuck in the same position, so she forces herself to shift as she speaks, ending up hugging herself. “I couldn’t have known you would come to save me,” she says, struggling to keep her voice even, “much less get lost on the way. I’m sorry.” She tries to speak with care, but it upsets him anyway. She hears a clang. The wall and the vent shudder around her. Her stomach lurches. The sound is metallic, so she suspects a kick from one of his steel-toed boots are to blame. “Well sorry doesn’t sweeten my coffee,” Rex snarls. “Of course I came to save you, I loved you. And I thought you loved me. I was as naive as ever. I thought you would care about me. I thought you were tougher than everyone else. I thought… I thought wrong.” She thinks she hears his voice crack and what might be a sniffle, but he recovers by the time he speaks again. “Don’t bother trying to use my feelings for you to manipulate me so you can run out on me, by the way. I’m so over it. Now you’re just here to be a total babe and keep me company. Speaking of which,” he says brightly, “this conversation is stupid. Let’s forget it ever happened. I know something fun we can do instead while you’re up there. It’s gonna make you feel so good, trust me.” Lucy feels Rex's hand graze her calf. She swallows but says nothing. If she feigns disinterest maybe he’ll— His hand travels up the back of her knee, her thigh, and settles on her left cheek. —nope. He laughs low in his throat and squeezes curve of her ass. And Lucy… Lucy likes it. She’s getting mental whiplash from the jump from what had made Rex so messed up to getting sexed up all over again. Trying to compel him to talk more about what’s important right now is next to impossible, especially when he has her lower half to play with. He keeps that hand settled on her ass and reaches up with the other to touch her pussy. Her toes curl when he cups her clothed mound in his hand and tugs the tips of his fingers over it. She’s wet and throbbing all over again. “You're still not satisfied, huh?” His fingers rub the tight denim against her labia and clit. “Did I not fuck you hard enough earlier? I can fix that. Lucky for you, I brought tons of lube.” He pushes the oversized shirt out of the way and pulls down the jeans. Inside of the vent, Lucy shudders in anticipation. Soon enough her pussy, ass, and a generous slice of her thighs are hanging out in the open air. The hands retreat and Lucy has to stuff down a moan at the loss. A long, difficult moment of rubbing her inner thighs together later they’re back. Rex pours a generous amount of cold lube on top of her hot cunt after spreading her legs. She bites her lip. He plays with her lips, stroking her now-soaked pubic hair and pushing the tips of his fingers inside of her to mix the artificial lubricant with her natural juices. “Tell me you want it.” “I want it,” Lucy admits with ease she didn't think possible. “Great, now say, ‘Rex is the superior version of Emmet and he’s better in every way.’” Lucy kicks his arm with her heel in response. “Welp, you can't fault me for trying.” He plunges two fingers inside of her vagina, right up to the knuckle. Lucy cries out at the sudden thrust. Her walls clench, drawing him further inside. He presses at spots he hadn't been able to finesse with his dick, crooking his fingers. His other hand draws up to rub her clit from beneath. She squirms as much as she’s able to in the constraints of the air vent. She’s getting slick all over his hand and her thighs as she gushes around him. The embarrassment at being in such a compromising position has faded into the background. Pleasure far outstrips it. “Chillax a little more for me,” Rex says as he slips in a third finger. A twinge, but it’s worth it for the sensation of being fuller. The fourth, his pinkie, enters like it’s nothing. She's spread out wide and every muscle spasm in her pussy is met with delicious resistance. “How does it feel, Luce?” Rex asks, all honeyed. “Good,” she admits, “Really good.” “Of course it does. And you want more, don’tcha?” More?
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Rex’s thumb eases inside of her, then his knuckles. Her slick folds make a soft sucking sound as he is accepted in. From there, the stretch turns to a slight burn. Lucy tries to say his name, either of them, but she’s lost the ability to form coherent words. He’s buried up to the wrist in her pussy when he curls his fingers inward. She doesn’t register the movement for what it is, thinking he’s just trying to do it to stimulate her. Then it becomes abundantly clear what he’s doing when his hand goes from flat with the exception of his thumb tucked underneath to a huge fist. To broad, too much. She does cry out, then, struck by the sudden sharp pain of being overfilled. It’s muddled and then overtaken by a hot, throbbing pleasure. She claws at the inside of the vent, unsuccessfully trying to bite back her moans mixed with even more mortifying whining. Her walls won’t stop clenching around him. “Don’t worry,” he says in that stupid, self-satisfied voice of his, “I’m not gonna Master Break your junk or anything. Unless you want me to.” Rex’s laughter doesn’t dampen Lucy’s arousal. Worryingly enough, she’s starting to associate it with being turned on. His other hand massages the muscles in one of her trembling thighs. Strange of him to think to soothe her when he’s the cause of her discomfort. Her insides keep spasming around the huge intrusion, feeling every contour of his clenched hand. Fingers, a bit of give on the lower half his palm, flat dorsal side, juts of bony knuckles. He’s got some rough scarring on the latter. She can feel it in perfect detail against her velvety insides. She starts thinking about how Emmet’s hand, similarly work-roughened, is fatter than Rex’s. Fingers, palm, and wrist are all thicker and would add up to an even bigger stretch. Then again, her dear, sweet Emmet would never think to fist her without her instruction. She can imagine his stricken expression at the mere suggestion of shoving his hand inside of her, much less balling it up in a fist to make it even larger and more intrusive than before. Lucy lets out a tiny, hysterical laugh. “Enjoying yourself, huh?” Rex comments. “Good.” The movement is incremental, but Lucy swears that she feels him starting to sink his fist deeper inside, brushing up against her cervix. Her clit pulsates and the edge of the vent presses hard against the sensitive nerves in her abdomen. Sweat beads on her forehead. “Rex… please…” It’s a labor to form words around her moaning. “You’re gonna have to use your words, darlin’,” he says, affecting a cowboy’s drawl for reasons that escape her. Her request is barely above a whisper, but the echoes in the vent amplify it: “Touch me.” “Where?” Oh, she could scream. He doesn’t exactly have a lot of options, it should be obvious where she wants it, he’s just being a jerk and misunderstanding for the sake of it— “My clit. Touch my clit.” “Good choice of words.” He says that, but asking him to touch her there may have been the wrong choice. She’s already so sore and raw from having it touched so much earlier. Every bit of pleasure is accompanied by a twinge of pain as he pushes her hood back to reveal her tender clit. All roughness is forgiven when he starts rubbing her in just the way she likes. It still doesn’t change that she hates that he’s dirtying her perception of his hands. This hand shoved deep into her cunt is the same hand that she had reached for with ginger care on more than one occasion. Emmet’s hand always swallowed hers up in a big, all-encompassing grasp, but he held on with such tenderness. She’s been thinking about him so much since the moment they were separated, and it underscores to her just how much she hadn’t appreciated him while he was there. For who he is. She’ll never ask him to change again, not if it means turning into someone like Rex. Then again, Lucy thinks, muzzy as her entire lower body tenses up and relaxes in conjunction with Rex flicking her clit, maybe she’ll ask Emmet to fist her at least once. His hand is such a big intrusion, it’s impossible to get used to. She’s salivating every time that her walls pulse against his knuckles. Her insides flutter. There’s lava in her veins. It’s so good, so good— Her orgasm is sudden and strong, punctuated with a girlish scream that she doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed of at the moment. It’s drawn out for a long, long while before she goes totally limp. She presses the side of her hot face against the cool ventilation shaft wall, panting through her mouth. “You all right, gorgeous?” Rex calls. Lucy murmurs something inaudible. “I thought we went over my bad hearing. Gonna need you to speak up.” “I said… be gentle,” she says. “When you take it out.” “Oh! Well, that’s a matter of course.” He works his fist out a bit at a time, every bit of the process accompanied by wet, slippery noises. The fingers on his other hand rubs her thighs and lips, urging her muscles to relax just as he had when he first balled up his hand. And then he’s out. With one final squelch, his fist is free and Lucy feels the open air on her gaping pussy. No more than a few seconds pass before he pulls her out of the vent by the legs. Lucy doesn’t have the energy or concentration to resist, going down in a limp sprawl. Rex catches her in his arms, shifting her weight until she’s cradled in an off-brand sort of bridal carry with her head tucked against his chest. She looks up at him with half-lidded eyes, not surprised in the least to see him wearing a very, very smug expression. “I told you I’d make you feel good.” He kisses her forehead. “It’s kind of ironic, I sent you in here thinking you’d get cleaned up, but now you’re filthier than ever.” Her vagina twitches, clenching around nothing.