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Zurkie’s was often shoulder-to-shoulder on a good night, but tonight it was particularly difficult to get around, even if you only came up to most folk’s waists.
It seemed like everyone was there, plus a bunch of other random patrons just looking to get in on the party. A goon and a pirate were arm-wrestling over in the corner with a rather loud heckling audience, something that seemed to be passing by the bar owner’s eye in the absolute chaos that was the Bar and Battleplex that night.
Ratchet just barely managed to duck in time for yet another sharp, armoured elbow that whizzed past him, said owner of the elbow far too drunk to even attempt to watch for some of the shorter patrons in the bar. The Morts were managing by merely walking right between people’s legs, but the Lombax couldn’t do that reliably. Not unless he wanted to risk a face full of something unpleasant.
He managed to keep the drinks he had in each hand from sloshing with years of experienced reflexes, merely shaking his head as he headed towards the table nook he and another certain Lombax had claimed for themselves.
Not that Rivet could even be seen from outside the nook, Ratchet having to employ some well-placed elbows himself to get through the crowd of people around the table to make way for him. Once they noticed who he was they let him through, too many voices and cheering for him to even make out what they were saying. Not that the jukebox would let him hear details anyways, the music just a pulsing unrecognizable beat through the bar.
“Alright, these are the last ones of the night,” Ratchet chuckled, placing the glasses on the table before fully taking in what else was there, frowning.
The table was absolutely littered in empty glasses - even more than what he’d left the table with. He started counting them before giving up, directing his frown at the very giggly Lombax at the other side of the table.
“Ratchet!’ She squealed, in a high pitch he only ever heard from her after she’d downed a few drinks. She raised a hand in a sloppy wave at him, her other arm busy with keeping her balanced on the stool. The multiple different glasses clinked together as her movement rattled the table. “Look at all these drinks! I mean, I’ve been bought stuff before as thanks n’ stuff, but wow!”
Ratchet’s frown only deepened. Rivet didn’t seem too sloshed - she could still speak coherently - but she was well on her way at this rate, especially when yet another admirer from the crowd pushed two more glasses of some mysterious concoction from the menu. Was this glass frothing?
“Another drink for the saviors of the universe!” The drink-giver slurred before Ratchet could open his mouth, the gifter a Fongoid who’s eyes were very crossed. Ratchet was surprised it could even see with how drunk they were.
“And for the happy couple!” A Vullard - who was surprisingly without its species usual enormous junk container - spoke up far too dreamily. A handful of other people cheered.
Rivet’s expression suddenly soured, and before Ratchet could even begin to unwrap what had just happened she made a grab for one of the full glasses on the table. Ratchet hurriedly slapped a hand down on the top of the glass, making her pause and glare up at him.
“I think you’ve had plenty to drink by now, Rivet,” Ratchet warned, looking her straight in the eyes. They’d made a pact to not get absolutely plastered tonight - once during the first celebration of the liberation of Rivet’s universe was more than enough for a lifetime for them.
Or so they’d agreed he thought, but Rivet just yanked harder until the glass slipped out from Ratchet’s hand and sloshed half the drink on the table.
She stared him down while she chugged the rest of the glass and set it down hard on the table. Ratchet kept her gaze, confused, before she suddenly looked away.
“I’m gonna go to the washroom,” She suddenly muttered out, before ducking from the table and disappearing through the crowd still mingling near them. Her years of espionage were on full display - even Ratchet nearly instantly lost sight of her.
He sighed, rubbing his brow with one hand. Tonight was supposed to be a fun one, a well-earned celebration after weeks of working to free Kedaro Station from the last dregs of the Emperor’s minions. He’d thought that the forge had been completely down for the count from what he and Kit had unintentionally done to it, but it seemed the Emperor’s forces were desperate enough to start sacrificing its own staff as power sources to try and pump out more enforcers.
Thankfully with the forge as damaged as it had been, the produced robots were often incomplete or even malformed, and through a straight week or so of attrition they finally managed to break in and clear out whatever was left and free the surviving staff. Now they were working on finding a new - ethical - power source to use the forge for the good of the galaxy, not for Nefarious purposes.
This celebration party wasn’t as enormous as the one that had been held after the initial defeat of the Emperor - but it was damn close. Kedaro was a vital source for the galaxy and it was finally in the right hands.
Ratchet looked down at the glasses littering the table - one was dangerously close to falling off. Leaving it all as a lost cause, he turned before jumping in shock. Much of Rivet’s admiring group was still there, watching him expectantly like he was going to do something exciting any second, like explode into confetti.
“Go on! Git! Nothing to see here!” He shouted over the noise, waving his hands around till the crowd scattered back into the rest of the din of the bar, some of them chattering over-excitedly.
The Lombax sighed, looking over the bar to see if he could get a glimpse of Rivet, or even Clank or Kit, for that matter. He hadn’t seen them in a while, the bots having wandered off to explore a bit themselves.
He managed to spot Clank first, not that it was difficult. His metal shined under the spotlight that lit up the Grunthor-riding machine as it bucked wildly, unable to shake the tiny bot’s grip. Judging from the smile on Clank’s face that Ratchet could see from there, he was probably giggling wildly.
If Clank was there, Kit was likely close by, so Ratchet made as much of a beeline for the center of the bar as he could. He’d almost made it - got a glimpse of Kit’s bright yellow shell between various legs before his view was cut off by a wide expanse of orange spandex.
“Ratchet! There you are!” Came Quantum’s booming voice, and Ratchet had to hold back an eye roll as he looked up - and up - until he could at least see the ex-Pirate Captain’s chin.
“Hey, Quantum!” Ratchet said, trying to force cheer into his voice. While he got along better with Quantum than he did his own Quark, this universe’s Captain still had an amazing ability to get exactly in his way when he didn’t want him there. “Enjoying the party?”
“Yes, it’s been splendid! But enough about me,” He said, which instantly put Ratchet on edge, for no version of Quark would ever not want to talk about himself. “There’s a few people that want to ask you some questions! You surely have time to answer them as the second savior of the universe, right?”
Ratchet barely opened his mouth before one of Quantum’s big hands clapped the entirety of Ratchet’s back and began pushing the Lombax around, in the opposite direction of where he wanted to go.
“What am I saying, of course you will!” Quantum answered for him, and Ratchet felt the familiar Quark-headache coming on - though at this rate he should just call it the Q-headache.
“Quantum, look, I’d love to, but I’ve been doing that all night and I’d really like to just spend some time with my friends,” Ratchet grit out, digging in his heels completely futilely and not for the first or last time wishing he was allowed his Hoverboots in the bar. But alas, they were sitting forlornly at the bar entrance locked away with the rest of the weapons he’d brought with him.
“It’ll only take a few minutes! Nothing painful, I assure you,” Quantum said, and Ratchet found himself forcibly steered to a back corner of the club.
“Quantum, what the - “ Ratchet started, but stopped when he heard familiar spitting coming closer.
“Phantom, if you don’t let me go, I swear I’ll -” Rivet was being pivoted in their general direction exactly as Ratchet was, but unlike Ratchet was reluctantly allowing himself to be pushed around, it was taking Phantom and two whole Goons to try and keep Rivet contained and moving in their direction.
“Quantum, now!” Phantom wheezed out, and Ratchet jumped when Quantum slapped a nearby button panel, a triangular door that was set into the wall hissing open quickly.
With a yelp Ratchet was tossed into the darkness beyond the doorway, and he heard Rivet let out a similar sound as she was also thrown in unceremoniously, hearing her arm clatter loudly against something to his left.
The door slammed shut, cutting off the light that had been drifting in from the doorframe, and the Lombaxes found themselves in a very small, dark room.
“Now you two lovebirds can finally have a moment!” Quantum’s voice was muffled through the metal, barely audible. “No need to thank us, it’s the least we can do!”
Ratchet started when Rivet snarled , and he heard more than saw her scramble to her feet and slam her right fist against the door.
“Quantum! Phantom! You open this door right now, or I’ll shove my foot so far up your asses you’ll be tasting metal for a month!” She yelled, emphasizing her sentence with a few more brutal punches to the door.
The room was suddenly lit in a low red glow, and Ratchet realized they’d been shoved into a supply closet of some sorts. Boxes littered the room, a few open and containing brooms or mops of some kind, a shelf with cleaning supplies on the back wall. The light came from a utility light over the door frame, barely able to help him see what was going on.
He stood up, brushing off his knees before wincing at another loud bang from Rivet’s direction.
She was really going at the door, hissing out curses as she took out her frustrations on the metal - and was succeeding in starting to warp the metal with her punches.
“Woah, woah! Wait a second,” Ratchet jumped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. Rivet shrugged it off violently, but Ratchet just put it right back, with a firmer grip this time. “If you keep this up we’ll be locked in here for sure, the door won’t fit back into the frame.”
Rivet let out another angered snarl, hitting the door with all her might in one last punch before whirling on Ratchet and shoving him out of the way. He stumbled back, looking between her and the door - ignoring the familiar roll of heat that went through him whenever she showed off her impressive strength - before settling on Rivet.
“Rivet, what’s going on? Why are you so upset?” He asked, watching her start pacing further back into the closet. “At least here we can talk without having to yell over the noise.”
Rivet bared her teeth, kicking at an unfortunate box. It didn’t break, but it too now had a dent in it.
“It’s just - fuck - I’m so - “ Rivet spat, hands clenching and unclenching as she almost seemed beyond words. Ratchet hadn’t seen her this mad since they’d faced off against the Emperor.
“Rivet?” Ratchet started forward, hands open in a sign of peace, but Rivet whirled on him anyways.
“I hate this! I hate it so much! ” She yelled out the last word, bent at the knees in the force she was using. Her chest was heaving, eyes glittering in frustration.
“This?” Ratchet was supremely confused now. “The supply closet?”
“No!” Rivet stared him straight in the face, brows drawn down tightly. “This! Us! ” She gestured between herself and Ratchet roughly.
Ratchet felt a little something in his chest snap in half at the venom she used in the word ‘Us’. Well, that was that hope dashed before it even got off the ground.
It must have shown in his face somehow, that ‘open book’ of his that Clank referred to often, because Rivet’s expression shifted from rage to regret to frustration.
“No, no! I didn’t mean it like that!” She hissed, gripping at her head. “I like us! But not like - not like that! Not like - ugh!”
Ratchet lowered his hands, one rubbing at his chest to try to soothe some of the ache there unconsciously. “Rivet, breathe. You’re not making any sense.”
Rivet actually managed a few heavy breaths, fingers still dug into the straps of her goggles as she tried to reign in her anger. After a few moments she swallowed deeply a few times, stumbling back so she could lean against the wall.
“I - I didn’t mean it like that,” She huffed out, gesturing loosely with one hand. “I like - I like you. You’re a great guy. I just - what I don’t like, is - “
She tensed up, just the thought of whatever making her so angry almost setting her off again, but she took a few more deep breaths. Ratchet made himself comfortable on the dented crate in front of her. Dangerously inside striking range, but he felt it worth it.
Rivet tilted her head back against the wall, her ears splaying flat against the metal. “I hate that everyone’s trying to just - shove us together! Like it doesn’t matter anymore what I’ve done, what I’ve sacrificed for the galaxy,” Ratchet heard her right hand scrape against the wall at her side.
“All that matters now is that, ooh - there’s another Lombax! And he’s a guy ! We can now save the specie s!” She spat out, eyes popping open in anger as she shook her hands out wide in a sarcastic motion. “As if that’s all I’m good for now!”
Ratchet’s ears twitched in embarrassment at the sudden thought that rolled through his head at that, but kicked it out of the way. Now was definitely not the time. “Have - have people actually been saying these things to you?”
“Basically!” Rivet exclaimed, raising and slapping both hands against her thighs. “Whenever you’re not around, they’re asking me if I’ve talked to you lately, when you’re gonna come back, when’s the baby shower, even!” Her nose scrunched sharply at the last one. “Like my feelings or opinions don’t matter anymore! Everything I’ve done, anything I am as a person, as a member of the Resistance - gone. The galaxy isn’t in danger anymore, well, I better get to popping out little Lombaxes!”
Ratchet… didn’t know what to say. It’s not like he hadn’t had those kinds of quips directed at him before - even more so now that people knew of the both of them. But it seemed like the few he’d gotten and been able to just shrug off paled in comparison to Rivet’s experience.
“I assume you told them to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine,” He said, leaning forward on his elbows.
“Of course!” Rivet scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. His comment seemed to calm her a bit though, as if knowing he was on her side was something she needed. “It’s just…”
Rivet curled her right hand into a fist and smacked it against the wall at her side. “Why do they think they can tell me - us, what to do? It’s - I’ve worked so hard, for myself, for the universe. And now people I’ve saved - people before who didn’t care a smidge about me, suddenly think they’re entitled to my life.”
Rivet looked at him suddenly, and he jumped at the ferocity in her eyes. “And you! The fact that they think that they know what’s best for you, even - they don’t even know you! I don’t even know you well yet!” She said, pressing her hands against her chest. “We haven’t known each other for very long, there’s so much in our lives to tell and now there’s so much to fix and change and it’s all just so much and it makes me so mad !”
Rivet stomped a foot for emphasis, snorting heavy breaths through her nose. Ratchet sympathised with her - the cleanup and sudden publicity after ‘saving the world’ gets old, real fast. It’s practically routine for him at this point, as much as that grates on him - but the first time he was the Hero, it was… a lot to deal with.
Having your whole world and routine turned upside down because you had to suddenly shoulder the burdens of the universe was tough. Having people you thought were more equipped, more experienced than you turn to you for advice, for direction - was overwhelming.
Ratchet couldn’t imagine how it’d be when you’ve been fighting as long and as hard as Rivet has, non-stop. He’d at least had years of downtime between cataclysms. He didn’t think she even knew what a vacation was .
He waited patiently as Rivet collected herself. With the passing moments she seemed less angry, volatile, more… sad.
“I wouldn’t give up anything I’ve done, just to go back to… how it was before,” Rivet said quietly. “And it hasn’t been everyone saying these things. Most people still treat me well. Treat me like a person, try to help as much as they can. But that fucking topic keeps keeps popping up - I’ve even gotten quips from some of my so-called ‘friends’!” She spits out with a scrunched nose, gesturing towards the doorway.
She dropped her head back against the wall with a thunk. “I know they mean well. I know they want me to be happy. But it’s none of their damn business! It’s nobodys!”
Rivet sighed heavily, raising her right hand. The lights on her fingers and palm glowed softly, illuminating her face in purple filtered through the red light. “All that aside, I mean, I’ve… been alone for so long. I’ve had the Morts, and the other Resistance members, sure,” She said, shrugging.
“But - we’ve always worked individually, to keep things safer. I've always worked solo. I’m not exactly the best at relationships, if my experience with Kit taught me anything.” She snorted softly, curling her right hand into a fist to block out the glow.
“Not like anyone would even want to be with me, like this.” Rivet muttered quietly, under her breath - as if she hoped Ratchet wouldn’t hear her.
Rivet’s sudden dip in mood was alarming. Ratchet knew of Rivet’s normally high opinion of herself - Clank had told him of their sudden pep talk when trying to flee from the Fixer back on Torren IV. Though now it seemed that opinion was more of a shield than Rivet had let on.
Her mood was only dropping further, he could tell by the crumple in her expression and her drooping ears. His chest started burning as he realized he needed to do something, and fast. His brain was slow to catch up though, still buzzed from the drinks from earlier.
He wasn’t very good at giving pep talks - at least, not in this kind of situation. Need to boost morale when everyone’s about to die? Sure, easy. Trying to prop up the very person he had a burning crush on when she was feeling self-conscious? No fucking clue. What do normal friends do in a situation like this??
“A-anyway, it’s nothing really,” Rivet coughed out a little laugh, scrubbing a cheek with her hand awkwardly. “I guess I’ve just been a bit pent-up lately, and - “
Rivet gasped when Ratchet suddenly stood up and wrapped his arms around her. Her eyes were wide and damp, expression so vulnerable Ratchet couldn’t keep her gaze, and instead ducked his head against the side of hers, near her ear while he held her close in a firm hug.
“If you don’t think anyone could want you, just the way you are, you’re dead wrong.” He growled in her ear, a bit stronger of a voice than he’d meant to use. The thought of Rivet in all her brash, confident, roughness second-guessing herself just sat completely wrong in his heart. “You’re an amazing, wonderful person, and I know you’ve got this. All of it.”
Rivet stood frozen for a moment, hands up in a reflexive manner before slowly settling on his back. He huffed out a breath when she squeezed him back, pulling him flush to her in a desperate return hug.
She buried her nose in his shoulder, and Ratchet wondered how long it’d been since she’d actually had gentle physical contact outside of back-slaps and handshakes.
They stood there for a few quiet moments as Rivet calmed down, the only sounds were the muffled music through the closet door and the occasional sniffle from Rivet. Ratchet didn’t move, unsure of what he was allowed to do beyond a friendly hug.
Eventually Rivet shifted, giving him one last, very tight squeeze. This one really knocked the breath out of him, making him squeak involuntarily. He also, very inconveniently, felt that familiar surge of heat roll through his body at her strength, and squeezed his eyes shut with an impending sense of doom. Rivet chuckled against his chest innocently, before her whole body went stiff.
He knew what she could feel pressed against her hips, for his far too friendly boner was currently very happy with their current proximity. The traitorous thing twitched.
Comets, his stupid, stupid body! It wasn’t like he could control the damn thing, but he should have known better. Yeah, hugging her close felt absolutely amazing - but he was a grown man for Plumber’s sake, he shouldn’t get rock hard just from a tight hug!
He felt her move again, and he sucked in a breath and tensed up in preparation for the gut punch that was surely coming, for she had every right and he so very much deserved it....
Only to let it out in one big, shocked wheeze when a hand suddenly gripped at his crotch firmly.
All contact with him suddenly let go, her hands flying up and Rivet squeaked. “I’m sorry! Did I - did I hurt you?”
“No,” Ratchet wheezed again, trying to suck in breath while he pulled away from her slightly. She hadn’t hurt him - maybe gripped a bit tightly - but having your balls grabbed when you weren’t expecting it was going to shock even the sturdiest guy. “No, just - surprised me,”
Rivet kept frozen for a moment, hands hovering unsure of what to do. He could feel her body starting to shake before him - like she was so utterly embarrassed that she’d messed up with one curious try and was going to disappear at a moment’s notice.
He wouldn’t give her the chance. He slowly pushed himself against her, pinning her between himself and the wall but giving her time to move away or push him off. Ratchet felt her relax at the returning pressure, reassurance that she hadn’t screwed up and he was still there with her.
A few more seconds passed before the curious hand returned, and Ratchet sucked in a breath when she cupped at him again, much gentler this time. She clearly had no clue what to do, but she was trying, determination returning in force now that she knew he wasn’t easily scared off. Unsure what to do with his own hands, he braced his arms against the wall on either side of her head, and she gasped a little at the motion, but let him.
Her fingers got bolder the longer she explored. He was sure she was unable to feel everything through the thick material of his pants but he wanted to imagine she could feel the heat he was giving off. He certainly could, the attention - from Rivet, of all people in the multiverses! - making him the hardest he’d been in a long time.
Her hand drifted up, the heel of her palm rubbing against the base of his cock, and he couldn’t have stopped himself from grinding into the touch even if he’d tried.
Rivet’s breath caught at the motion, right in his ear, and his cock twitched at the sound. She gripped him harder in return, a bit awkward with their current angle, but oh so warm and alive, and by Orion he was sure this wasn’t real.
He was grateful she was using her left hand rather than her right when she gave another exploratory squeeze - though the thought of her having his balls rolling between her metal digits made him groan and grind his cock into her hand again.
Rivet made a small sound, like a swallowed whimper at his groan, and he tucked his head in against hers, his arms shaking.
“You - nhh - you can do... whatever you want to me,” he hissed gently in her ear, feeling her pulse race against his nose from where it was buried in her scarf. And he meant every word.
Rivet’s motions paused for a moment, before she pressed back against his rutting, her palm rubbing just under the head of his cock.
Ratchet groaned again, starting up a steady but slow grinding rhythm of his hips against her hand. It was awkward, the angle wasn’t quite right, but it was still perfect. The fact she was reciprocating, even this little bit, touching him like this when he knew if she wanted she could tie him into a knot and he would thank her for it.
He was sure his tail had puffed three times bigger than it normally was, tip waving frantically as his emotions and pleasure swelled inside him. It’d been ages since someone other than himself had touched him, the sensation overwhelming even through his layers of clothing.
Clothing that was rapidly becoming warmer and stickier from precum, the more he rutted against her. His hips were starting to move more erratically, his breathing rougher and uneven as he realized how close he was getting, so fast.
It was all so perfect, but he had to - he had to stop. Having to deal with sticky undergarments the rest of the night wasn’t something he wanted to experience, even if it was from Rivet’s own hand.
That thought sent a shiver rolling through him, and he forced himself to pull back. “Ok - ok - ah - wait a second -”
Rivet froze again, but only for a moment, relaxing and pulling back her hand the same time he pulled his hips away. “What’s - whats wrong?”
Ratchet swallowed a groan at how breathless Rivet sounded, and forced himself to look her in the face.
He nearly creamed himself right there - her pupils were huge, even considering the low red lighting in the room. Her expression was open - wanting - and Ratchet had to withhold another twitch of his hips.
“I’m - I’m really close,” He chuckled, grinning a bit embarrassedly. His eartips burned at the expression that flitted across Rivet’s face - he’d call it almost hungry if he wasn’t surely delusional. “This feels really - really good, but, uh, I’d rather not walk around with wet briefs, if you get what I mean.”
Rivet’s eyes grew even wider somehow, mouth tightening in a line as she nodded and looked away quickly. Ratchet took the moment to gather himself, willing the rolling heat to subside to something more manageable. After a few more breaths he could think more easily, and he felt a small, repetitive motion against his leg.
He realized Rivet was nervously scratching against her own leg with her now freed fingers, as if she wasn't sure what to do now.
Well, Ratchet wouldn’t ever call himself a man again if he didn’t try to do something for Rivet in return.
Gently, deliberately, he lowered a hand to place it against Rivet’s waist, well above her hips. The touch still made her gasp, and Ratchet leaned into her ear again.
“We don’t have to do anything more. Whatever you want to do, whatever you’re comfortable with, is what goes,” Ratchet said, making sure Rivet heard every word and understood it. “You’re in control.”
Rivet let out a breath in a shudder, and he could practically hear the gears in her head turning as she took in what he was offering. Very slowly, he slid his hand lower against her hips this time, rubbing his thumb against her side.
Rivet’s breath hitched again, and she clamped her right hand against his wrist tightly, but didn’t pull his hand away from her. She held it there, and he froze his motions, letting her make the next move.
He heard her let out a frustrated little sound, and suddenly she pulled his hand to press it against her own crotch.
“ Fuck ,” Ratchet couldn’t help but hiss out, putting his hand immediately to work. Rivet whined a bit in surprise as he cupped his hand over her mound, feeling how warm she was even through all their layers of clothing. She was soft, very soft and squishy, obviously nearly as worked up as he was and he’d bet anything if it wasn’t for her reinforced pants she’d be soaked.
The thought made his hips give a little jerk, but he put his energy and focus now into making her feel good this time.
He zeroed in his senses to her and her reactions, hearing every breath she took, every little twitch and whimper. He didn’t push himself into her too hard, giving her room to wriggle as she pleased while still keeping himself close so she felt his body heat. Starting by circling and rubbing around her center at first, trying to map out what felt the best for her.
Rivet seemed a bit overwhelmed, but was hanging on, both hands pressed flat against the wall behind her as if to try to help her quaking knees keep upright. Her eyes were clenched shut, head tipped back as she let him explore her.
Ratchet groaned in response to her gasping, his fingers keeping her mound cupped while his middle rubbed against where he assumed her clit would be. It seemed he hit the jackpot, for when he pressed a bit harder her mouth dropped open in a surprised cry.
He pressed his cheek in against hers, instinctively trying to get closer but desperately trying to keep from crowding her, and he couldn’t help but moan when she did the same, turning her head to return the pressure.
Ratchet’s body quivered when Rivet’s hips started rolling in response to the rhythm he set up with his finger, trying to get closer. Now that he knew the placement and right pattern she liked, he shifted his hand. Rivet cried out at the pause, only to return with an even louder gasp when he picked up the rhythm with his thumb this time, able to press harder and faster.
“ F-fuck - Ah!” Rivet was having a hard time forming words, something that made Ratchet’s chest swell with pride. He pressed in just a bit firmer, a bit quicker, and Rivet only got louder as her back arched off the wall.
A bit too loud. Normally, there was no way in hell Ratchet would even think of trying to muffle the person he was pleasing, but in a circumstance like this he didn’t want to take chances.
Shifting his weight from his forearm to his elbow, he quickly clapped an open hand over Rivet’s mouth. This shocked her, her hand raising up to grip his wrist tightly as she glared at him.
He gave her a shaky, apologetic grin. “Sorry, sorry. Uh - you’re being a bit. Loud,” he whispered at her, nodding his head back in the direction of the closet door. The music and general noise of the bar thudded through the metal, and it was highly unlikely anyone would hear them, but still…
Rivet’s eyes took a moment to focus from him onto the door behind him, before she was able to string two thoughts together to understand. Eyebrows still furrowed, she reluctantly nodded, before letting his hand go and her head tip back. Allowing Ratchet to keep her mouth covered.
“...Fuck ,” Ratchet hissed again, ducking his head back down as he focused in on Rivet again. He could feel her breath panting against his glove, heating up the leather as she lost herself in the pleasure.
The pleasure he was giving her, the thought rolling heat down his spine. He’d never in his wildest dreams thought he’d get to do this - to Rivet of all people. The beautiful, wonderful person he had resigned himself to pining over from a distance, afraid to toe the line with her and lose something amazing.
Even if nothing happened after tonight, if they went back to being just friends, he’d never regret a second of this. Perhaps letting his downstairs brain do the thinking for him was a good thing, just this one time.
Ratchet’s hand was starting to cramp, but he wasn’t complaining, instead ignoring the discomfort and focusing on bringing Rivet to climax. He was sure she was close, his hand barely able to muffle the groans rolling out of her now. Keeping his thumb going, he slid his fingers along where her slit would be, cupping more of her mound and giving more pressure and warmth.
That seemed to do it, for he jolted when he felt teeth bite down on his middle finger, Rivet taking one of his digits into her mouth to clamp down on as she desperately tried to keep her voice contained.
Her body was another matter though, her knees locked as she spasmed, heat pulsing out from her core as he softened the motion of his thumb, trying to lead her through her climax as her body shuddered and jolted.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off her face, having looked when she bit down on his finger. Her eyes were squeezed shut, eyebrows and nose scrunched and ears tucked down in what would likely have been a gorgeous roar of pleasure if she’d been allowed to let go.
Ratchet could allow himself the wistful thought of maybe one day, being able to hear it.
Slowly, in increments, Rivet’s body sagged back against the wall, panting hard against his hand but still unwilling - or unable - to let go of his finger. It wasn't until he gave his hand a reluctant tug that she finally let go, a trail of spit leading from her tongue and sharp indents in the leather. He gently pulled his hand away from her mound, sliding the hand back to her hip to try to help steady her with his grip.
Ratchet’s heart was racing, pounding, bursting. He’d done this - he’d made her feel so good she nearly screamed, he’d brought her to climax. He only vaguely registered the light thumping of his wagging tail hitting something behind him, unable to stop it even if he cared.
Rivet slowly opened her eyes, blinking hard a few times before looking up at Ratchet. Whatever expression he had on his face - he had no clue, he couldn’t control himself with all the warmth bursting in his chest - made her snort and chuckle, an adorable smile finally crossing her face.
“Well, there. Hotshot,” she teased, so much like herself and then some that Ratchet’s tail practically vibrated. “That was… pretty good.”
Ratchet chuckled. “I’ll take it.”
Rivet sighed, rolling her head side to side before looking him up and down. He knew it was all bravado from the afterglow of her climax, helping her brave through her embarrassment, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to call her out on it.
“So what about you?” she asked, and the question blindsided him for a moment.
“Me?” he asked dumbly, and Rivet huffed before reaching her left hand towards him again.
He squeaked when she cupped him pointedly - a more careful grip than before, but still deliberate. A single pulse of her grip made his still very, very hard cock ache.
“You,” she said, flatly. “You’re not about to walk out of here like this,”
Ratchet chuckled a bit awkwardly. “Not… like it’d be the first time I’d have to walk this off. Besides, like I said, I’d rather not have to deal with wet briefs.”
Rivet raised a very unimpressed eyebrow, before flicking her eyes from his, down in the direction of her own crotch, back to his face.
Ratchet got the hint, his cheeks burning with warmth while his ears tipped down. “Uh. Right, yeah. Sorry,”
Rivet rolled her eyes before letting go of his crotch - his dick let out a woeful pang at the loss of pressure - and turning to rummage around at something at her side.
Ratchet wondered what she was doing before she pulled out a little square of cloth from somewhere. He belatedly remembered the little pouch she had on her belt on her at all times.
He looked down at it, puzzling. “...A handkerchief?” She didn’t seem like the hanky-type to him.
Rivet shifted, a bit embarrassed. “Look, do you want to cum, or not?” She said brashly.
It suddenly clicked in Ratchet’s head, and his cheeks burned even hotter. “Yeah. Yeah, um - yeah.” he stuttered, grabbing the handkerchief from her fingers and quickly unbuckling his belt.
He hurriedly arranged the handkerchief so it was draped across the head of his cock where it could soak up the worst of the mess, zipping everything back up.
Ratchet looked back at Rivet to see her looking anywhere but at him, ears high and stiff as she avoided looking in his general direction while he stood there with his pants open. “Hey, sorry, I’m good.” He offered in half apology, and Rivet turned back to him, her eyes doing an unconscious flicker down to where his belt was half-fastened but closed enough.
She nodded and reached her hand forward once more, and as soon as she made contact Ratchet huffed out a jittery breath, pressing up against her with his arms bracketing her head again. Rivet giggled a little at his eagerness, but he couldn’t care less, arranging the two of them so her hand was sandwiched between his hips and her thigh, one leg of his between hers. Once he was sure they were comfortable, he immediately started grinding into her palm again, letting out a very deep, satisfied sigh at the returned contact.
He kept his head buried low between his arm and her head, eyes closed as he focused in on the bliss of it all. The handkerchief was one more layer of fabric between them, but it was more than good enough for him, and the Lombax growled low and quiet as his hips rolled in rhythm.
Rivet’s breath caught at the noises he was making in her ear, and he could feel her fidget beneath him. It was more than he could handle at this time though, his cock having been neglected and teased for long enough, and it was not going to let another chance at climaxing pass him by.
It was second nature at this point for Ratchet to keep his voice down in situations like this, but he found it hard to keep things low, settling for gritting and baring his teeth and trying to keep noises through his nose. He jerked when she squeezed his leg between hers with her thighs, her fingers gently rolling across his balls almost as a tease.
“H-haa - ah, fuck -” He hissed out, his hips picking up to an erratic pace. He really, really wasn’t going to last long at all.
He felt another pressure and realized it was Rivet’s right hand, curious exploration across his rear as his muscles worked against her hand.
The extra touch - having both her hands on him at the same time - was more than enough.
“Ah! I’m - I - ah- ” He tried to fumble and warn, but it was too much, and he grit his teeth hard and snarled quietly as he finally came. The handkerchief was getting soaked, his balls clenching tight in climax - he vaguely wondered if Rivet could notice through the layers of cloth - before he finally emptied out, body vibrating as he ground his hips into Rivet’s palm.
After he finished he slumped like his strings were cut against Rivet, still propping himself up by his elbows but the rest of him lax against her. He heard and felt her giggle, her hand letting him go - he couldn’t help but shiver with oversensitivity at the change in contact - before shifting to his side, as if to help him stand back up.
“So,” Rivet said quietly, and Ratchet managed to muster enough energy to raise his head to look at her. “...Pent up, lately?”
Ratchet snorted out a chuckle, Rivet following soon after as they leaned against each other in a gentle, quiet moment.
Said moment was harshly cut off by a loud bang from the door, and adrenaline shot through both of them.
“Mon dieu! How dare you - lock up my dearest Rivet with that ruffian?!” A very familiar, very unwanted voice cried out from the other side of the door, and Rivet and Ratchet turned to stare at each other with wide eyes.
As if they’d done this a million times before, Ratchet and Rivet jumped apart quickly. Ratchet reached into his pants and yanked out the handkerchief with a wince, his cock softening back into his sheath quickly from the unpleasant situation. He stuffed the messy cloth into one of his back pockets unceremoniously, before stepping a respectable distance away from Rivet and sinking to the floor, arms on his elbows as if he’d been there the whole time. Just for good measure, he ran a hand along his ears and tail to smooth them down, before looking up at Rivet with a grin and a thumbs up.
Rivet had less to reorganize, but she still shifted about till her clothing was more comfortable, running a hand through her tuft of hair, ears and tail to make sure they were smoothed too.
More banging from the door, and shouting. “Get away from the control panel, you giant useless lump of muscle! My Rivet cannot suffer being around that rapscallion Ratchet one second longer, who knows what he has done to her!?”
Ratchet winced, but Rivet bristled, her carefully smoothed tail bushing out in offence. She looked around before picking up the largest, heaviest, sharpest box she could find, hefting it over her head and aiming.
He couldn’t hold back an adoring sigh, as he hardly could whenever she showed off her skills. Even if her skills - and ire - were aimed at their friends or him.
There was a small hiss of hydraulics unlocking, and the door slid open, light blinding the two of them momentarily.
“My petite - !” was all Pierre got out before his head was promptly replaced by the box, knocking him clean off his feet and a few feet away. Rivet launched herself over Ratchet, using his head as a pivot point as he cackled at seeing Pierre laid out so cleanly.
The noise in the bar suddenly quieted down as Rivet crouched by the closet doorway, wound like a feral spring that only got tighter, her tail and ears sticking straight up as she hunted for her targets.
They both saw a flash of orange and green, trying to disappear into the crowd.
“ YOU ,” Rivet snarled as she dove into the crowd, patrons screaming and scattering as 97 pounds of pure fury started flinging bodies like plastic cups.
Ratchet took his time coming out of the closet, trying to keep out of ground zero, and admiring the view. He did think Rivet was being rather… eager for violence, but judging from what she’d confided in him earlier, he figured she needed a bit of retribution.
“No weapons allowed in the bar!” Came Zurkie’s deep voice, smoke billowing out from the small robot, furious at the disaster unravelling in front of him.
“You can’t stop me, Zurkie! Anything can be a weapon!” Rivet shrieked, stance wide as she brandished a stool at the direction where Quantum was trying and failing to hide his bulk behind an overturned table.
Zurkie’s response was to press a button on the underside of the bar, and one of the glass panels that showed the view over the Battleplex slid open. He then reached off to one side, and grabbed a wide push broom.
All the regulars to the bar gasped in horror. “ The broom ,” was whispered, and then there was true chaos. Anyone trying not to get involved in Rivet’s punishment was desperately climbing over each other, trying to disperse to the very edges of the room while Zurkie jumped over the bar.
Even Rivet froze when she saw Zurkie coming towards them with the broom held low, and she and her targets tried scattering. It didn’t matter though, for Zurkie’s broom was relentless and unremorseful. Ratchet couldn’t help but laugh from his safe spot in the closet doorway as Rivet, Phantom, Quark, and even Pierre and a handful of goons and pirates unfortunate enough to get caught in the crossfire were herded and swept unceremoniously out of the open window and down onto the Battleplex.
“If you want to fight, take it outside!” Zurkie said with finality, the glass window slamming shut.
As soon as the panel was closed, the bar seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Half of the guests returned to their original revelry, while rest either rushed out the doors to try and get good seats for the show that was about to start or stood by the glass windows overlooking the Battleplex for the view.
Ratchet shook his head and walked out into the bar, not entirely surprised to see that Clank and Kit had avoided the worst and were coming up to him.
“Ratchet, what in the universe just happened ?” Clank asked, hands on his little hips.
The Lombax sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Long story short, Rivet’s friends thought they’d be funny, and now they’re paying for it.”
He was leaving out a lot of details, and Clank knew it, and he knew Clank knew, especially by the very judgemental squinting he was doing in Ratchet’s direction. Ratchet was zip-lipped about anything more though. Like hell was he going to give any more details as to what happened in that closet.
Kit gasped and ran up to a vacant spot in the glass, looking down at the stadium. “Oh, oh dear. I don’t think this is much of a fight,” She said, hands pressed to the glass.
Ratchet snorted. “Nah, I think it’s more like a massacre.” He grinned, walking up behind Kit.
Below them, half of the unfortunate souls on the battleground were already unconscious. Quantum was ass-up in the dirt, Pierre was still out, a bystander and a crumpled heap with his head still buried in the box Rivet had smashed into his face. Phantom was still conscious, but just barely, using his dash to keep various goons and pirates between him and the furious little Lombax.
“Ratchet,” Clank said, concerned. “I do believe Rivet is taking it a bit too far,”
Ratchet scoffed. “C’mon, she’s doing just fine, see?”
He gestured down towards Rivet, who was mildly distracted with currently using an unfortunate pirate’s leg to beat said pirate within an inch of its life.
Clank looked up at Ratchet with a very disappointed expression. Ratchet had to look away, coughing awkwardly.
“Rivet, no!!” Kit exclaimed aghast. She immediately turned and headed for the Battleplex’s standard entrance, the hatch opening up and allowing the little yellow bot to drop down into the stadium.
Ratchet glanced back at Rivet in time to see her trying to force-feed the pirate’s leg down its mechanical throat.
“...Okay, maybe she is taking it a bit too far,” Ratchet allowed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he avoided Clank’s hard stare, while Kit ran out onto the field to desperately try to calm Rivet down.
It had been a few weeks since the chaos at Zurkie’s. It had taken quite a bit of convincing but eventually Rivet had calmed down - after she’d gotten most of her revenge. She’d also earned a month-long ban from the bar for the destruction she had caused.
While she swore up and down she didn’t start the fight, Zurkie’s word was law, so she had to wait out her sentence. Ratchet somehow had avoided being included in the ban, but he wasn’t about to go to one of Rivet’s favourite spots without her, so he happily suffered with her.
Well, happily wasn’t exactly the right word. Nothing had gone wrong, per se. Rivet was still talking with him, chumming as normal.
As if nothing had happened between them in the closet, at all.
Ratchet sighed from where he was standing inside his garage, the shadows cast from the Veldanian sun concealing him. In his hand was the little handkerchief Rivet had given him, long been washed by hand and carefully dried and folded.
Rivet was currently out in the yard, waist-deep in the engine compartment of a Valaxian Comet-Chaser XII, an old thing that a nearby repair garage had sent their way as fixing something that antique was way out of their expertise. She’d taken to the job with aplomb, seemingly grateful to work on something more benign than redistributing resources to drained exoplanets, or dealing with pockets of anti-Resistance that still resurfaced here and there in her own universe.
She and Clank were well occupied, Clank having somehow managed to dig up an old user’s manual for the ship, and Kit was helping by sitting in the cockpit of the Comet-Chaser and pressing buttons when prompted.
As such, none of them noticed when Ratchet snuck past their backs into the side-room Rivet and Kit had more or less claimed as their own when they visited.
Once inside, Ratchet let out a breath he’d been holding. So far, so good.
He looked down at the handkerchief. It was the last reminder he had that their little closet ‘rendezvous’ hadn’t been a dream, and had actually happened. That the gasps that haunted his dreams even more vividly weren’t imagined.
He couldn’t hold onto it any longer, though. Not with how looking at it kept also reminding him that Rivet hadn’t mentioned a single thing about her opinion on their closet romp, let alone the conversation they had before that. Not a funny look, not a single stutter, nothing changed. It was impressive, in a way.
His only idea as to how she hadn’t even breathed a word about the event was that she’d been just drunk enough to forget the whole thing happened. Which hurt, but it hurt less than thinking she was purposely pretending nothing had happened between them.
Carefully, he laid the handkerchief on the little filing cabinet that Rivet was using as a bedside table. It wasn’t in plain view, but she’d see it when she next looked at the cabinet. The least he could do would be to return it. Maybe, just maybe, it’d remind her of what they’d done.
If it didn't, well… he had his memories of the event, at least.
Ratchet left the room as quietly as he’d entered it.
Evening had fallen, and Ratchet was just finishing tidying up the garage. The Comet-Chaser was parked off to one side, having had a lot of work done to it but they still needed to find a replacement part for an ion converter that had rusted out. That would be the tricky bit.
Rivet had gone back to her room to change out of her sweaty, greasy clothes for dinner, and Clank was teaching Kit a few things in the kitchen. For all her teasing, it seemed Rivet was just about as bad a cook as Ratchet was.
He chuckled at that, sighing to himself before hanging up the last tool and looking at the shelf in satisfaction. He didn’t always remember to tidy up after himself, but he had to admit his workbench looked nicer whenever he did.
The Lombax was just about to head into the kitchen when he heard a squawk and a fumbling clatter from Rivet’s room, and turned in time to see Rivet braced against the doorframe, looking lethally in his direction.
He paled at having that expression aimed towards him, and tried to diffuse with a confused, awkward hand-wave and grin. “Uh, Hi? You okay Rivet?”
She didn’t answer, instead stalking towards him with ears pinned back and purpose in her step. The closer she got the lower his own ears and tail got, until he flinched when she reached for him. Instead of hitting him like he swore she’d do, she grabbed a fistful of his work shirt and started hauling him off out of the garage, in the general direction of the empty desert.
Ratchet sputtered but went along with it, utterly baffled but unwilling to try and resist, instead letting her lead him away from the garage and out of earshot up an outcrop of rock, behind a boulder.
She let go of his shirt and stomped a few paces, muttering to herself while Ratchet tugged the wrinkles out of the fabric. “Rivet? What the heck is -”
“Don’t you what the heck me!!” She hissed, whirling on him and stuffing her hand in his face. He flinched again, opening his eyes to see her fist right in front of her nose - with the handkerchief he’d returned sticking out of her fingers.
“Ah. That,” He said, pointing a finger weakly.
“Yeah!! That!!” Rivet scoffed, rolling her eyes and shoulders very dramatically, pulling back her fist.
Only to ball it tighter and deliver a hard punch right into Ratchet’s stomach.
Ratchet wheezed and crumpled to his knees, eyes tearing up and breath knocked out of him. “ Wh- What was that for?!”
“For pressing your boner up on me all of a sudden, you asshole!!” She shrieked, and Ratchet withered under her righteous fury. “What were you thinking ?!”
“Ah yeah, yup. Definitely deserved this.” Ratchet groaned, slumping with his arms across his stomach, digging his forehead into the sand. Even if the initial boner had been an accident, he hadn’t exactly… dealt with it politely. The punch was a long time coming, but he welcomed it.
Rivet huffed and puffed in front of him while he gathered his breath, grateful she was giving a moment. He managed to get back to a sitting position, not getting up off his knees. Whatever Rivet was wanting to bring down upon him, he’d take it in.
There was silence for a few moments, Rivet pausing in her pacing with her back still turned to him.
“I’m sorry - “ Ratchet started, but Rivet rounded on him, clamming him up.
“Why haven’t you said anything since the party? At all?” Rivet asked, voice still sharp but with a suspicious wobble to it that instantly set Ratchet’s fur on end.
“Wh - why didn’t you?!” He burst out, gesturing to her. Rivet grumbled in response. “I mean, yeah, I didn’t mean to rub my dick on you, it was an accident! I’m sorry!” He said, and Rivet flushed, looking away from him.
He continued, running a hand across his head and down his ears roughly. “But I didn’t know how to bring up the topic again! I didn’t know - did - did you hate it? Was it bad?! I didn’t - I didn’t know what to say or what you wanted from me!”
“I didn’t know either!” Rivet hissed, stomping. “What, was I supposed to just, waltz up to you and go ‘Hey there buddy old pal, it was a bit overwhelming when you rubbed your boner on me, but then you made me cum harder than I ever have in my life! Wanna do it again?’ “ She put on a thick accent to overemphasize her words, and Ratchet vaguely recognized the accent but was more blindsided by the last thing she said.
He sat there stunned up at Rivet, watching her fume at him with the wide expanse of stars glittering behind her.
“You… you want to do it again?” He said in a very small, amazed voice, and Rivet clapped her hands to her eyes.
“ That’s what you take from everything I said?!” She yelled, and Ratchet could tell from the angle of her ears and tail she was extremely embarrassed through her anger. “ Yes , it felt really fucking good. Yes, it was a bit scary at first, but I really liked it when you gave me the reins! But also, I’m still really fucking mad at you! So I don’t know if I should give you a second chance!!”
The words one by one shot through Ratchet like a Headhunter bullet to the chest. Actually looking into himself, he was mad at her too, but for the exact same reasons she was angry at him. Neither of them had done a good job of being actual adults and talking about what had happened, instead choosing to just sit back and hope the other would be braver than them.
Ratchet looked down at his open hands on his knees, his chest squeezing. He’d put the situation out of mind since the party, trying to ignore the reality of what he’d done - they’d done - to favor his own hurting over feeling ignored or rebuffed. But that wasn’t fair, and he wasn’t that kind of person. He didn’t want to be.
“Rivet, I’m - I’m sorry,” He said, head tipped down and ears drooped down low. “I’m sorry for not bringing it up. I was just - kinda scared? I guess. I was worried about what you’d say.”
Rivet didn’t move for a while, before she finally shifted, walking forward. Ratchet braced himself, but all that came was a hard knock to the back of his head with metal knuckles, before the same hand reached under his chin to tilt him up.
“Ratchet,” Rivet paused, before crouching on her own knees. “I - I mostly wanted you to just acknowledge, and apologize. That’s - that’s what I wanted.” She said, letting go of his chin. “And I - I could have said something, too. I guess I was afraid, too.”
They sat there in the dark for a few quiet moments, the only sounds of wind blowing through desert scrub and the local wildlife warbling in the distance.
Rivet huffed, ruffling a hand over her ears. “I just, it felt good,” she chuckled then, her hand dropping to her neck. “Like, really good. But I didn’t know how to breach the topic with you, and it kinda just… sat there.”
She shrugged in a helpless manner, looking over to him.
“I know how you feel,” Ratchet said, hands loose and open on his knees. “It was kinda spur of the moment, but - like, how do you bring that up with your friend that you just canoodled with in the closet?”
Rivet snorted and started giggling at his choice of words. “Canoodled? Have you been hanging out with the Morts too much?”
Ratchet cracked a smile at her laughter. “Maybe,” he said.
The two of them laughed quietly together, the air between them clearing a bit. Ratchet hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the heaviness that’d grown between them, but was extremely grateful it was dissipating.
“So…” Ratchet drew the word out, hands half-clasped on his knees and tapping his thumbs together. “You’d… like to do it again?”
Rivet let out an exasperated groan, tilting her head back. “Yes? Maybe? I dunno, I mean - gosh,” she snorted. “I don’t exactly know the rules of this sort of thing. I’m not really… looking for anything right now, y’know? Too busy.”
Ratchet didn’t know he could feel like floating, then sinking down through the ground so quickly through the duration of a few sentences. His heart both keened in pain and soared in excitement, a confusing tangle of contrasting emotions that was almost too much for him to deal with. He instead squished them all down to unwrap later, latching on to what little Rivet seemed to be opening to him.
“We don’t - have to be anything,” He said, his heart giving another sad squeeze at the relieved look Rivet sent his way. “I mean, friends with benefits is a thing. We can just… have fun, for now. When you want to.” He hastily tacked on, seeing Rivet’s ears flick in hesitance.
She was quiet for a moment, staring at him so intently he worried the feelings he had barely begun to accept were blaring on his face like neon lights.
“...For now, huh?” She said, pinpointing in on the exact part of what he said that Ratchet had hoped she’d gloss over.
He held his breath, tail stiff out behind him as he waited for the guillotine to drop.
Rivet sighed, tipping her head to the side. “Yeah, okay.”
It took Ratchet five whole seconds to fully register what she’d said. When it clicked, his ears stood straight up, tail bushed out in disbelief. “Really?!”
Rivet groaned and placed a hand on his probably madly-grinning face, using him as a prop to lever herself on her feet. He gladly let her. “Yes, really, you loon. But not right now!” She said, sticking a finger in his face.
As if he was going to stand to attention right then and there, ready and willing to please her at the drop of the hat. Which was, well. The truth. But she didn’t have to know that yet.
“Dinner’s probably done, and Clank and Kit are likely wondering where we are,” She sighed, stretching out her back in an attempt to look casual. Ratchet meanwhile had no such need, scrambling to his feet in a cloud of dust. “We’ll…y’know - when the time is right, okay?”
“Okay,” Ratchet said dopily, and Rivet’s ears dipped down in embarrassment at his tone.
“And next time, don’t have a boner when you hug me!” She shouted as she turned away from him, stomping down the hill in a flustered manner.
“No promises!” Ratchet cheeked, smile growing wider when Rivet scoffed and kept walking.
He followed behind Rivet like a balloon on a string, the rapid change of events in the last however many minutes making his mind and heart an absolute mess.
It wasn’t everything he could have hoped for, and they’d still left out a lot of things they really should talk about, but it was a start.
A something.
A ‘for now’, that if he played his cards right, could become a ‘forever’.