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Oryza read the tiny, glowing text yet again, but her eyes hadn't mistaken her. The message was the same: LEAVENOW. It didn't add up—or rather, it did, just not in a way she was comfortable with.

First, the joint station's reactor lost control. Coincidence. The fact that they had escape pods in the first place made it a simple disaster, planned and accounted for. But now that Corymb had dug up this ominous message from the reactor's control logs, it was beginning to stretch the limits of coincidence. Perhaps the two matters were unrelated, but it certainly didn't feel simple anymore. Factor in his ghost story, and the whole thing was a giant mess.

Oryza pulled her snout away from the terminal and blinked. The escape pod's lights were so soft compared to the harsh blues of the screen. The human-sized text was illegible at that distance, but there was nothing else to see there anyways.

She glanced back to Corymb, who was floating beside her in the zero-gravity, staring worriedly at the computer. “What do you think it means?" she asked.

Corymb chuckled nervously. “Beyond being some kind of warning or threat? I was going to ask you that." He crossed his arms and sighed. “I guess the message had to get there somehow. It's digital, so either it was automatically put there or a someone put it there manually. If it's a prank, it's a bad one. Toss in the reactor failure, and well, things are starting to look malicious."

Malicious software or malicious person. Oryza shivered despite the blistering heat of the cabin. “I thought the station's software had been checked with a fine-toothed comb."

“It was, and so were we. I'd have thought the background checks and interviews alone were extensive enough to weed out any bad actors. They didn't hold back on mine, at least." His grin was wry. “But for as much faith I put in people, I place even more in quantum cryptography."

Oryza sniffed. She got the distinct impression that he placed slightly too much trust in technology, but she had noticed the trait in every human she talked to. Still, that was no reason to dismiss his conclusion, even if it was equally hard to believe. While she didn't know everyone on the station terribly well, she was at least acquainted. Every single one—human and dragon—had been friendly, witty, and competent to a fault. It was hard to imagine any one of them as a saboteur. Of those she knew personally, impossible.

“That story of yours," she started, “with those other human astronauts, from the—Prometheus, was it?"

“On Earth."

“Figures. I didn't remember anyone mentioning being on that mission back on the station."

“Had those three wanted to join us here, they probably could've. But twelve years is a lot of time to lose, especially twice."

Oryza exhaled. It would have been a simple connection: two instances of the “LEAVENOW" message, linked by someone present at both times. But of course it wouldn't be that easy.

“We should stop this speculating," Corymb said. “About people, that is."

“What? Afraid I'll accuse you of sabotage?" The retort slipped out faster than Oryza could stop it. It wasn't impossible. She forced herself to laugh.

Corymb expression darkened. “No. Don't even joke about that. We can't do anything from a people standpoint. That's something best left for the proper investigation."

“Right. Sorry."

That had been stupid of her. It didn't even matter if Corymb was involved or not; simply entertaining the thought was destructive. In the best-case, it would only increase the tension between them. Another fifty days of that was a bad idea. And if the accusation was correct, she had far bigger problems. It was just the two of them on an escape pod in the dead of space. There was no one else to help her. Boredom would be the least of her worries.

But that didn't matter, because she didn't suspect Corymb. Not seriously. But then what was that look he had given her? Did he suspect someone, or was it just touchy for him? She sympathized with that much; the whole thing was hard to believe. If she hadn't personally seen the LEAVENOW message, she wouldn't have believed it at all. Even then it was only text on a screen.

“I have to ask. I'm sorry," she said, shuffling her wings nervously. “You didn't make this up? The story, the message…?"

“Of course not!. You know damn well I wouldn't do that. Besides, the reactor logs are signed—they're provably undeniable."

"Right," she said flatly.

“It's okay. I get it. I'd like to believe I was hallucinating or sleepwalking or something. It'd be an easier pill to swallow. But these logs are the black box for the station. Once they're disconnected, they're impossible to mess with."

“Right."

Corymb gave her an exasperated look. “Enough of that. In any case, we should make the report."

“Oh, great. That'll be really easy." She sighed. “I don't even know where to begin."

“It won't be that hard; it's no essay. The facts ought to be enough." He cracked his knuckles and started tapping at the display.

Corymb composed the message while Oryza watched over his shoulder and occasionally offered advice. It was impolite to crowd him like that, but it was also more interesting than anything else on this blasted tin can. She'd have written the message herself, but Corymb could finish it in a quarter of the time. She wasn't even that slow when it came to typing, but he had fingers and had grown up with the technology. There was no competition.

The message they finally sent was a simple one, and as Corymb had initially stated, entirely objective. It went like this: There was a message left in the station's reactor logs. This suggested that someone had put it there. Given that the reactor had then failed, it seemed possible that the two events were related.

That was all. Corymb left out the story that he had told her because, as he put it, “the only evidence of that event is on Earth, and I'd rather ground control doesn't think we're losing our minds up here." Then they sent it.

When ground control's response came back a dozen minutes later, Oryza felt disappointed with it, even though it was the exact response she had expected: The logs were to be preserved, as a full investigation would have to happen once everyone was docked. In the meantime, they were to continue on as normal.

It was as if nothing had even happened. The whole thing felt like a formality. Ground control couldn't do anything about it this immediate second, and notifying them was certainly the right thing to do—Oryza understood both of these things—but they might as well have not bothered report in at all. She and Corymb would have preserved the logs anyways. There was going to be a full investigation regardless of the strange message. Nothing had changed. If they wanted to understand anything now, they had to do it themselves.

To that end, Corymb had settled in at the terminal once more, combing over the reactor data as he had meant to in the first place, before he had first found the LEAVENOW message. Oryza wanted to watch over his shoulder and follow along, but Corymb was using tiny fonts again. If she touched her snout to the screen, she could just about read it. Oh well. It was rude to look over his shoulder, anyways.

Oryza flapped back to her regular spot by the porthole, resigning herself to boredom. How much longer would they be trapped on the escape pod? They had made a dent in their trip: ten percent, if she rounded up? That wasn't nothing. Still, those had been long days, and there was no reason to expect it to get any better. Already she was starting to recognize the stars through the porthole. How long would it be before staring outside became too dull a pastime? Well, she was going to find out. At least it worked for now.

After what felt like an hour but was surely less than half that, she asked, “Find anything?"

“Nothing useful."

“More than nothing, then? Do tell."

Corymb groaned. “Might as well be nothing. It'll be days before I get numbers out of this. The escape pod was never meant crunch them, and they're stored in a cryptic way that I'm sure made sense to someone at some point. As far as our mystery message goes, it's just an empty file called 'LEAVENOW'. The only metadata is about when it was apparently created, on January 1st, 1970, midnight Sol barycentric. But that's a placeholder date, and therefore useless."

“There's really nothing else? Who or what made it? Snapshots or something instead?"

“No. It has the default system owner, so basically anything could have made it." He sighed. “The snapshots are a good idea, though. I hadn't thought of that." He tapped at the terminal and squinted. “Um, okay. The file is there in the latest one, but in the second latest… oh! Damn, good catch."

Oryza smiled. “Not there, huh?"

“Doesn't look like it. And the snapshots are nightly… so that means it would've had to appeared within"—he tapped at the screen—“forty hours or so, before the reactor popped."

She turned around from the window and faced Corymb. “That's interesting."

After a pause, Corymb said, “I suppose it is."

“You don't think so?"

“I mean, forty hours is a long time window for things to happen in. And it doesn't make any sense. If it was… sabotage," he whispered, “why would anyone put something like this here? Especially while there was still time to notice it?"

“That seems pretty obvious to me. 'LEAVENOW', as in, 'to those in the know, now would be a great time to leave, since the reactor will be blowing up shortly.'"

“Maybe. But no one left before the alarm. We'd have known."

“No one would've had to leave early," Oryza said. “All they'd have to do is prepare for the evacuation, to ensure a favorable crew on their escape pod."

Corymb shrugged. “If that's the case, then the word choice is pretty bad. It should have said, 'Get ready to leave in day or so,' or something to that effect. Or been coded, or something, so they wouldn't get found out like this." He shook his head. “I don't see what we can figure out just from speculating, though. The reason the reactor failed isn't going to be explained by those eight letters, no matter how hard we squint at them. If there are answers, they're in the reactor data."

Oryza closed her eyes. “Which you're still keen on analyzing. Here."

He nodded.

“On our escape pod's tiny little computer. That, in your own words, is not even remotely built for this."

He made a flippant wave. “Well, that's not going to stop me from trying. It's a good thing there's still some fifty days left."

Oryza grumbled and twisted away, making a few tight flaps to stop her rotation. At least Corymb could find a silver lining to the wait. How lovely for him, to have a fun distraction to help pass the time! If only she could have one, too. She floated back towards the porthole out of habit. There was nothing stimulating aboard, no reprieve from the sweltering air, and she'd know: she had checked twice yesterday, and three times the day before. Each time only grew more disappointing, reaffirming that they didn't have anything fun to play with. Or rather, they did, but it would be reckless to waste on simple entertainment.

For example, in the third box from the left of her sleeping compartment, there was a drone intended for external repairs. As fun as it would be to play with that, the thing was junk once it ran out of fuel. So that was a non-starter. Even if she was comfortable ignoring the off-chance that they'd need the drone, it still wasn't the right time. Better to save something that exciting for when she really needed the stimulation. If she couldn't hold off for these first few days, she was already doomed.

There were other items, too, but it was a similar story for all of them. She knew from experience that the Orion box was fun to mess around with, but it too could only be used so many times before it ran dry, and she had needed it once already. Medical devices ought to be saved for medical purposes. Other options included rereading the ship's manual, but at this point, Oryza suspected it would be more entertaining to burn the pages one by one. The tome was dry enough.

All that said, the boredom wasn't too awful. Being idle was frustrating, but not inherently painful. She was comfortable wandering in her thoughts. What was was less comfortable was how stiff she always ended up after staring out the wiindow for so long. What she wouldn't give just for one good stretch—the cabin was too small to even spread her wings! She could do one at a time, but even that was a bit awkward to position. She'd have to figure out her posture soon, or the rest of the trip was going to be even less fun than it already was.

Hours slipped by. Corymb stayed firmly attached to the terminal, tapping in quick bursts and swearing under his breath every now and then. Computer issues, he had explained curtly, and poor decisions around data storage. He hadn't said another word to her since then, though the cussing had continued.

Eventually, Oryza grew hungry. It was about time for dinner, wasn't it? She shook herself, massaged the stiffness from her limbs, and snapped open the compartment full of their food. She had organized it earlier out of boredom, so all of the contents were stashed away in neat, contained rows.

“Dinner," she said, poking her snout inside. “What do you want?"

“Anything's fine." Corymb didn't look up.

“You might be giving me too much power, there."

He only grunted, and Oryza sighed. She picked out a few nutrient bars for herself and chose a box of crackers with some unappealing paste-like spread for Corymb. There was a meal plan they were supposed to adhere to, but that had fallen apart quickly. The pod was stocked for four people, so they hardly needed to ration, and some of the food tasted so foul that she wondered why anyone thought it was a good idea to supply them with it in the first place.

Holding their dinner against her chest, Oryza snapped the compartment closed. She turned around and handed Corymb his food. “Care to join me?"

“In a bit." He took it without looking. “I'm still in the zone."

“You've been 'in the zone' for hours." She peeked over his shoulder, but it was a waste of effort. The font was still inscrutable. “Did you figure anything out about the reactor failure, at least?"

Corymb slammed his fists onto the touchscreen with a plastic thunk, and then threw his hands in the air. “Don't you think I'd have told you if I had?"

Oryza growled. He didn't have to take his sour mood out on her! She snapped around, away from him, and pushed off the base of the terminal. In a moment that was equally satisfying and panic-inducing, one of the cable conduits she used as leverage gave, bending out of shape.

“Careful!" Corymb swiveled to the conduit, a look of panic plastered on his face, and wrestled it back into shape. He doted on the terminal for a moment before finally breathing a sigh of relief. “It seems fine. Be careful. And sorry. About me, I mean." He pursed his lips. “It's been slow-going, and not in the fun way."

“Then stop." She breathed deeply and let her hackles fall. “Come and eat with me."

“No, even if I did, I'd just be distracted the whole time." He opened his food with one hand—the other was already back on the screen. “I need to keep chipping away at this."

“You don't need to do anything, Corymb. Certainly not to the point where you get this stressed over it."

“But I do! I have everything I need right now to figure out what happened to the station. I can't just sit on my hands and pretend I have nothing to do."

“You don't have to stop, just ease off. Slow down to a healthier pace, at least until we dock. There's no rush."

“I'm not rushing, I'm just focused. I promise I won't overdo it. Besides, it's not like there's anything else to do."

Oryza stopped looking at him. He could eat with her. That was something else he could do. But no. He had priorities, apparently.

“Well, I hope you're having fun, at least," she said flatly before flapping back to her idling spot by the window, doing her best to ignore the tapping that quickly resumed behind her.

Why did he have to be like that? Having things to do was supposed to make the trip easier, not harder. This project of his had only made things worse, devolving into an obsession and driving a wedge between them.

No—that wasn't the underlying problem. Wedge or not, the real issue was that he had let it get to the point of an outburst at all. They had trained to handle isolation in healthy ways, and the way Corymb had just done was certainly not one of them. It was unhealthy for him to keep going at it like this. They had to talk about it, and he had to take breaks and slow down. But she had just told him precisely that; what else could she do? She couldn't help him unless he let her.

Oryza ripped open her food and forced down a few nutrient bars. They were dry and tasteless, but she wasn't that hungry anyways. Perhaps that was unsurprising, given how sedentary she had been as of late. That was her excuse, at least. So she stashed away the unopened half of her food, stowed her trash, and turned back to the porthole to idle once more.

It wasn't fair. At the very least, she ought to have something to do as well. For a while, she had thought that would've been Corymb. They had already mated a few times. She wouldn't mind continuing that trend, or even scaling it up. She glanced back at him; he was still buried in his newfound obsession. So much for finding a way for both of them to pass the time.

Yet regardless of his unhealthy distractions, maybe it was unreasonable of her to expect something like that out of him. What were the odds that her and Corymb's sex drives matched up? One of them was bound to be a little disappointed, no matter what. But he could at least try and talk to her, to eat with her. It was their mutual duty to keep each other sane, and already he was eschewing that duty. It would be a psychological disaster for both of them if things continued down this path.

Of course, that was assuming that some other disaster didn't get to them first. Life wasn't supposed to be here, millions of kilometers from home. Between the vacuum, the radiation, and the general lack of everything needed to survive, space wanted to kill them. No—that was unfair. Calling the universe hostile was like calling water wet. The true difference was how friendly Arche was to her, to any dragon. At least home wasn't always trying to kill her in seventeen different ways at once.

Now all she had to do was hope that this tin can of an escape pod could get her back. Maybe it could. That was what it had been designed to do. Yet worrying about it all was useless. She kept with the maintenance; everything else was out of her control. Better, then, to focus on the things she could affect. Like Corymb.

In some ways, she sympathized with him. The passion, the desire to do something—she saw herself there. But that didn't excuse his behavior. He had overdone it and it showed. Was that worth stepping in on?

Maybe she was overthinking it. One outburst could be a fluke, and perhaps this was normal for humans. She was just blowing it out of proportion, letting the boredom get the best of her and fill the empty time with worry. No, nothing about their relationship had fundamentally changed. They still had to support each other, because no one else would. They had still mated and enjoyed it. Those facts held.

Oryza looked back at Corymb. If anything could pull him away from that damn terminal, surely it was the promise of mating? Every minute she held off asking was a minute of pleasure potentially wasted. It would reaffirm things for her, smooth things over for him. It was perfect.

She grabbed one of the nearby handles and craned her neck around to look at him. She was upside-down, relative to him. She lifted her tail—or lowered it, as she still hadn't settled on which way was up in the escape pod—to a teasing point, covering just barely.

“Corymb?" she asked. She had meant to sound sultry, but her throat was too dry.

He tilted his head but kept tapping at the screen.

“Wanna mate?"

He sighed and paused his tapping. “No, not right now."

“You're sure? 'Cause I'd love to. You can treat it as a well-deserved break, if you want."

Corymb closed his eyes. “No, I'm just not in the mood now. I told you: this"—he gestured to the terminal—“is all I can think about. It wouldn't be fun. Maybe later?"

“Hm. Sure." She lowered her tail slowly and turned back towards the porthole.

She always thought mating had a certain way of breaking through such moods, once one got started. But it wasn't the kind of thing she would push. Besides, if he kept going at this rate he'd surely grow sick of it. The more he worked on it, the more quickly that would happen. And after that he'd look for some other way to pass the time—and maybe, just maybe—the rest of the trip would almost be fun.

Oryza yawned. “Actually," she started, “I think I'll turn in for the night."

“Oh? So early?" Corymb didn't look up.

She could feel his insinuation in his tone. She just had asked to mate and gotten turned down, and now she was going to bed like some petulant hatching. No, no, surely she couldn't just be sleepy. Well, she couldn't care less. Corymb could believe whatever he wanted.

She shook her head. “I'm just tired."

“You're okay?"

“I'm fine."

“Well, be careful. Habits are all we have."

Oryza held back her retort. It wasn't worth the trouble. “It'll be fine. It's just once."

“Well, goodnight, then."

In the casket that was her sleeping compartment, Oryza woke up too early. The only light came from the dim glow of the clock, inset in the wall. She had another hour of prescribed rest to go. As frustrating as the common twenty-one hour day was, it was a compromise. It gave dragons too much rest and humans too little, and made her days too long and Corymb's too short. The escape pod did its best to simulate day and night, but it took constant effort to keep everyone's circadian rhythms in lockstep, to minimize their isolation from each other.

As she shuffled around in the cramped space, getting comfortable, she let the back of her forepaw drag below her tail. An errant touch. That was how it always started. But of course that first touch had to feel good—good enough to follow it with a second one that was even better. Within a minute she was actively rubbing her clit with the ball of her forepaw. So much for going back to sleep. Once she got off, maybe.

Oryza spread her legs apart, if it could even be called spreading them in such a confined space: they were at an angle more parallel than skew. She'd have preferred to arch her back and spread her wings, too, but that wasn't going to happen in the tiny sleeping space afforded to her.

Huffing through her teeth, Oryza did her best to flood her mind with sexy thoughts: those of pent-up, hapless drakes, prone on their backs and desperate for release; of the lolling tongues of dragonesses giving her hungry eyes; and of Corymb, waggling those nimble fingers of his, ready to plunge in and pleasure her in that lovely, alien way. She rubbed faster and groaned.

That was it. Those drakes would have their release, cumming in her with a force that would have hit the ceiling were she not in the way, accepting it all. Those dragonesses would eat her out, one after the other, until she wouldn't even be able to stand. And Corymb—

Oryza winced as her knee bumped against the compartment wall, and again when her head did as well. Both spots throbbed. What was the point of privacy without the room to use it? The cabin was much better suited to this. It was hardly spacious, but at least it wasn't confined. Normally she'd lose out on the privacy going back out there, as it was a shared space, but it was still early enough that Corymb would be asleep. The air would be hot, but such was life. She could finish up out there, in relative comfort, and then squeeze back in and go to sleep.

She opened the compartment door behind her—she had entered headfirst last night—and let her tail unfurl into the hot cabin air. The relief from just that much stretching almost made up for temperature change. But the rest of her had to go out as well.

Oryza stretched as she exited, expanding as if she had been compressed into the tiny space. Even if it was untrue physically, it felt like she was a spring uncoiling. The sleeping compartment didn't quite require contortion, but it got damn close.

She pushed against the sides of the compartment and eased herself the rest of the way out. It felt good to be able to move again. She could spread her legs freely, here. She flipped around and tensed—Corymb was there, at the terminal.

He shouldn't have been awake; he had still been up when she had gone to sleep, and as a human he actually needed the rest. She had gotten a good five hours in, which was plenty. Corymb must've had less than that. Assuming he had slept at all.

“You're up early," she said, letting her tail drop. So much for privacy.

Corymb shut his eyes, shook his head and looked up at her. “Right. Up early."

“You didn't sleep?"

He sighed. “I tried. I really did. But my brain just didn't want to turn off. So I figured I could either stay wedged in there and worry about it for the rest of the night, or I could go do something and get some sleep once I finally felt tired." He chuckled. “Reminds me of college, actually."

“Corymb. You need to go to bed."

“Preaching to the choir, here." He laughed. “I'll sleep when this damn thing lets me!"

“Now."

He sighed. “Fine, fine. You're right. I'll start wrapping things up."

Oryza huffed and turned away, floating towards the porthole out of habit more than anything else. It wasn't her job to discipline him like that. Shiny problem or not, he was an adult and ought to act like one. Corymb had said so himself: routine was all they had. Though maybe that was one point she couldn't judge too harshly on, considering how she was awake now.

A pulse of heat went down her spine. She was still aroused—had Corymb seen anything when she left her sleeping compartment? Surely not. He had barely even looked up at her. Not that it would have mattered if he had. Humans could be weird about such things, but she and Corymb were far past that point. Hell, she hoped he had gotten a nice, long look. Maybe it would stir something in him. She wouldn't complain if he decided to stay up a bit later for that, routine or not.

Oryza poked a forepaw through a handle to anchor herself and relaxed. Even through the limited view of the porthole, she could make out a few blurry constellations. She angled her snout downwards so she could get close and see past the glare from the interior lights, but that meant she saw no reflection into the cabin. If Corymb had indeed been stirred, she wouldn't see him coming. Not knowing was certainly more exciting than turning around and being disappointed by reality.

An eager Corymb—how would that play out? She closed her eyes. It wasn't that hard to imagine.

It would happen at time like this, she thought, one where pretend-Corymb worked at the terminal while she drowned in boredom. As she stared out the window, she wouldn't notice when Corymb silently turned off the monitor, nor when he turned and pushed off towards her. Only once she felt a warm touch upon her tail would she realize what was happening.

His touch would be a subtle one, one that wouldn't startle her, and Corymb's absurd body heat would make the contact grow hotter by the second. He'd wrap those wonderfully dexterous fingers of his around her, getting a gentle yet firm grip on her tail. Then he'd lift up, slowly, and expose her.

She tried to imagine what his expression would be once he got a good look under her tail. Agape, maybe. Perhaps he'd swallow from nervousness and excitement. But regardless of his expression, one thing was certain: he'd stare. He'd be completely transfixed by sight of her swollen pussy, of the gossamer strands hanging between it and her tail. He'd be too horny and tired to worry about politeness. In that honest, primal way, his raw want and desire for her would be laid bare. He wouldn't give her the look of someone only intending to reciprocate, but of someone who would instigate, of someone who wanted her.

Oryza hummed. She would leave it up to Corymb to drive things, then. This was too much of a treat to ruin by pushing things along herself. She'd just pretend not to notice any of it, content to keep her gaze on those blurry stars out the porthole.

Oh, but she had to give him a little bit of encouragement. Just a subtle nudge, to indicate she liked the direction things were heading. After that she could lie back and enjoy.

She played it off as a stretch at first, pushing her hind legs back and shaking her rear. Corymb still had a firm grip on her tail. She shook him off gently—he ought to be ready to use both of his hands, and she hardly needed his help keeping her tail up. Then she let her thighs drift apart, spreading for him, and sighed in mock relief.

Corymb grabbed her a moment later, using her flanks to pull himself forward. His hands sidled down her body, pulling his belly to her back, and he nestled his head into her neck, casting hot breath beside her ear.

“Oryza," he whispered, before continuing in her native tongue, “I'm going to eat you out."

The words were like electricity. She didn't even needed to ask! She shuddered and hummed, knocking one of her horns into the pod's hull.

Oryza snapped out of her fantasy, and rubbed the base of her horn. That would be sore, later. She turned her head just enough to glance at Corymb—the real Corymb—to find he still had his face buried in the ship's terminal. Had he looked at her? Her tail was raised, hiding nothing. He'd have seen it all if he glanced even once.

Then again, why did she care if he saw her now? It was a personal matter, and she was only in the cabin for practical reasons of space. It didn't involve him. She brought the forepaw to her swollen slit, gingerly spreading her lips and flattening her paw against her clit. She closed her eyes. Where was she? That was right; Corymb was going to eat her out.

She'd had to stop him, wouldn't she? She still hadn't quite explained to him how he had gotten pneumonia the other day. It was one thing on a planet, but the escape pod was too clean for that. It wasn't right to let him unknowingly risk that again, even in a fantasy. Oh, but it would be so hot! No, she had to tell him. That didn't have to stop him, though—not inside the realms of her imagination. She didn't need to skirt around the issue. He'd respond the way she wanted.

“Wait," she whispered back. “That was how you got sick, last time."

“Was it?" he murmured. “You didn't let me come up for air. A bit of.. uh, you, went down the wrong pipe. So let's be more careful, this time. And you have that medicine for it, anyways, so I don't think it's that risky."

Was that actually sound? Oh, it didn't matter. Maybe the real Corymb wouldn't say that, but it felt honest enough to her. And more importantly, it cleared her conscience for what pretend-Corymb would do next.

Corymb let his palms rest on her side once more and slid back down her body, letting his belly drag against her back. She caught one bit protruding a bit further than the rest, even through his jumpsuit. She was sure it was intentional on his part. They'd get there, certainly, but he still had to eat her out first.

Eventually, his hands settled on her haunches, and Oryza felt his hair tickle underneath her tail. It always surprised her how well those palms of his could grip things without force—his hold on her was gentle yet fast. That was good. She wouldn't need to worry about holding still.

There was a moment of anticipation, where there were no sounds except their breathing and the gentle, ever-present droning of life support. Oryza recalled what Corymb's tongue looked like—it was hardly long, but more than wide enough. While it wouldn't be getting deep into her, that surface area was something else.

Corymb flattened that very same tongue against her clit and groaned in satisfaction. Oryza pushed back into him, grinding into his face, eliciting both a small squeak from him and a redoubling of his effort. He massaged his tongue into her, letting its tip part her swollen folds and run up their length. It was a slow lick, accompanied by his moans and heavy breaths. His mouth was occupied, Oryza realized—he'd have to be breathing through his nose, drowning himself in her scent as he tasted her. The thought of it made her scales tingle.

Corymb ended the lick with a conspicuously loud slurp, an audible swallow, and a contended hum. That was playing it up, maybe. But playing it up was hot.

Still, that was enough of his slow, passionate attention. He spun to get a new angle, flipping himself upside-down, if it could be called such without gravity to orient him. When he licked her again, it was with a lick that didn't end. He buried his face into her pussy, teasing her clit with the bridge of his nose. His tongue surged forwards, slipping into her with lubricated ease and making the length of human tongues seem moot. Her body tried to wring an orgasm from that slippery muscle as it explored every little feature of her surging walls. And it didn't stop.

Oryza realized, then, that this was how it was going to be. Corymb would keep going, humming and licking and groaning and pleasuring her like he had no other purpose in life. He would keep going until she came. She pushed back into him and crooned in pleasure.

Wait—was that out loud? She froze. Her tail was still raised, and she had been rubbing along to the fantasy. If Corymb had looked, he'd have seen it all. She could smell the scent of sex on herself—hopefully Corymb's nose wasn't sensitive enough to notice. She lowered her tail and wiped her wet forepaw off on her underbelly.

She turned around. Corymb still had his back to her, facing the terminal. If he had heard anything or looked, he hadn't said anything. She sniffed the air. No, even a human nose would pick up on that. Why was he still there, anyways? He had said he'd wrap up and go to bed. It had been a few minutes, at least.

The fantasy flashed through her head again. She had to put her foot down. Although, as long as she was going to pester him, why not raise the question as well?

Oryza flapped over to him. He was engrossed in the computer, as ever. He'd have said something if he had noticed her masturbating, surely.

She hooked a claw onto onto one of the handles to stabilize herself next to him, and set her chin gently upon his shoulder. Even through the fabric of his jumpsuit, the heat radiating off of him was unmissable.

“You should be sleeping," she said softly.

“Come to drag me away, now?" He rubbed his eyes.

“Do you need dragging away?"

“Probably."

“Tell me, what kind of dragging away do you want?"

“Preferably the kind that ends with me uninjured." He sighed and turned off the terminal. “Fine, I'm done."

“Does it feel good?"

“Feels like bedtime." He shrugged her off his shoulder. “Anyways, enjoy having the cabin all to yourself. Not that you need my permission."

Oryza cocked her head. Had had noticed, after all?

“What is it?" Corymb asked.

“You saw?"

Corymb paused. “Yeah. You made it kind of hard not to."

“Ah."

He raised an eyebrow. “Just 'ah?' That's it?"

“I mean, it's fine. I guess I thought you might've interrupted, or said something about it—“

“Like what?"

“I don't know, something funny or snarky. Something about joining in. Something about me being passive-aggressive, masturbating after I asked to mate yesterday—“

“I didn't think it was anything like that."

“Oh, good. Because it isn't. Like that, I mean."

“Right."

“Not that the offer isn't still standing, if you want it—“

“I get it, Oryza. It's fine." He snapped open his sleeping compartment door. “Goodnight." He floated inside and closed it behind him.