Emmet's knowledge of intimacy starts and ends with holding hands.
He understands the mechanics of sex—at least, he thinks he does—but the pleasure that Lucy describes as being associated with it is alien to him. The Instructions made it pretty clear that they were only meant to do the sex thing if they're married and want kids.
Thus, he's a bit shocked when Lucy tells him one night after dinner that it can be done just for fun.
He stares at her with a slack-jawed expression from across the table in the rudimentary shelter they'd built in one of the least dusty corners of the desert. All thoughts of the blueprints for the cute house plan he'd been formulating disappear, leaving his brain in its usual empty state.
"Ems?" Lucy asks.
Emmet shuts his mouth. He doesn't want his special best friend to think he's any more naive than he already is, so he tries to cover it up with blustery confidence.
"I know all about sex, Lucy. You put the… thing… in the other thing…" He slots a flat hand into a partially closed one. "…and then you're good! It's like connecting bricks, right?"
"That's not entirely wrong."
"And you don't have to worry about me being tainted, either."
The Instructions make it very clear that handling one's genitalia or having it come into contact with others' more than strictly necessary is horrible.
"Tainted?" She looks even more concerned than before. "Have you ever… this is kind of a personal question, but have you ever touched yourself?"
Well that's off-topic.
"Of course, who hasn't?" He pokes himself in the cheek to demonstrate but misses and hits his eye. "Ow."
"That's not what I—you know what? Never mind." Lucy leans across the table to interlock their hands and give him a peck on the cheek. "We'll take it slow, babe."
Emmet happily agrees without having any idea of what taking it slow entails. He would've thought someone as daring and edgy and motorcycle-building as Lucy would want to live life in the fast lane, but slow works for him.
Step one turns out to be easy: they get undressed. No problems there, it's much easier to take off clothes than to put the right ones on. At least he thinks that's what's going to happen.
Lucy can be out of her clothes in a very short amount of time thanks to her affinity for her baggy hoodie and sweatpants. Boots and pants aside, he requires a little bit more work between the straps on his vest, the button-down underneath, and his undershirt. He's also clumsy with stripping despite wearing more or less the same outfit every day.
Pants, boots, and vest are gone, but his shirt has turned into a puzzle. His fingers feel uncoordinated, a sharp contrast to his usual precision with Master Building.
There's a reason for that: he's preoccupied with looking at Lucy. Her muscular arms and plump breasts have his complete and total attention. Both are rounded out and full and covered in freckles. Deep brown nipples dip cutely as she leans down to pick up her clothes and toss them to a corner of the room. The highlighted sections of her hair catch bits of sunset as she tosses her head to get it out of her eyes.
Emmet sighs dreamily. She's so gorgeous.
His admiration of Lucy starts to give way to the inevitable creep of self-doubt. She's way too good for him.
He knows he's not what anyone would describe as smart. Or handsome. Or in the best shape.
Emmet reaches the widest part of his belly while unbuttoning his shirt as he has this thought.
The truth is that he's fat. Really fat. "Just eat at whatever fast food chain is closest to the construction site every day" fat. The sort of fat one can only get from regularly indulging in a pint or two or three of ice cream topped with tears at 2 AM while wondering why his co-workers wanted nothing to do with him.
All the calories he burned and muscle he gained lifting heavy pieces day in and day out couldn't hope to compete with his huge appetite and tendency to turn to food for comfort. He has the gut and thighs and rolls and breasts to prove it.
The Instructions also make it clear that women aren't interested in fat men.
Before Lucy, that hadn't mattered to him so much, but now...
Despite his self-consciousness, Emmet is very aroused. The warmth that had developed in his stomach from the moment he'd met Lucy burns at a steady, growing rate, now. There's a matching heat between his legs. The Instructions always recommended a cold shower whenever his penis got like this, but he can't do that right this second.
He's struggling to force the last buttons out of their holes in his shirt when Lucy is fully naked. With a huff she comes over to help him. Emmet is transfixed by the subtle jiggles of her breasts as she moves. She smirks when she catches him looking.
"You're hopeless," she says as she undoes the buttons with ease and slips the shirt off of him.
Responding with an airy "Hopelessly in love with yooooou" earns him a couple of her ticklish smooches on one of his biceps.
Pulling his undershirt off over his head leaves him unclothed everywhere except for his underwear, which he had hesitated to take off thanks to his erection. Lucy leans over and tugs it down without preamble. Emmet stiffens in more ways than one. For a paralyzing moment her face is on level with his crotch, ponytail bobbing right next to his navel. He swears he feels her breath against his hot, bare skin as she makes a hum that sounds… approving? He swallows thickly, unable to process how Lucy would ever have a positive reaction to the repulsive sexual organ between his legs but equally unable to read the noise any other way.
Then the moment is over. She pulls his underwear all the way down and he steps out of it. Her nipples glance across his belly as she stands, getting on tiptoes and pulling on his shoulder.
Oh! She wants to kiss him! Finally, something he understands. Lucy had coached him at length on how to be a good kisser. They've kissed so much that letting her stick her tongue deep into his mouth is second nature at this point.
He leans down to embrace her. A thrill runs through his spine when he feels her hug him back with her strong arms. Their embrace ends up with her breasts smushed against his gut. Her nipples bead and prod at him in sharp relief.
Lucy and Emmet look deep into each others' eyes for a long moment before they kiss. Their lips fit together with such ease the same way her little gloved hand had fit in his all those years ago. He can't help but believe they were meant to be.
It's wonderful to kiss his true love, especially in the nude. Even so, Emmet is uncomfortable, hyperaware of his penis inches away from his beautiful girlfriend. If he just sticks it where it belongs so she doesn't have to look at it, maybe he wouldn't feel so bad. Rudimentary health lessons in high school and extremely vague diagrams in the Instructions flash before his mind's eye.
With a wet smack, Lucy separates their mouths. Emmet licks his lips, tasting some of her lipstick smudged across them. He gasps when she nibbles at his neck, then again when she licks his ear.
"You're so tense, baby, relax," Lucy whispers, rubbing his lower back.
She only calls him "baby" instead of the usual "babe" when she's worried about him. This is getting really bad.
"I'm fine," Emmet says in his best I'm-not-lying voice.
Unfortunately, his best I'm-not-lying voice is terrible.
Lucy draws away from him, lips pinched. "Emmet. Seriously. What's wrong?"
"It's just, ah…" He scratches the back of his neck.
In a rush, he explains President Business' view on sexuality and especially private parts. Namely that they're disgusting and the less that they have to be interacted with, the better. There were more important things to do, like building things and getting rid of weird stuff and rooting for the local sports team and—
Lucy's expression gets more and more serious as he goes on, sculpted eyebrows scrunching. Midway through, she interrupts him.
"Hey. Listen to me," she says, squeezing one of his hands between both of hers. "You're not disgusting."
Lucy wouldn't lie to him, but Emmet has his doubts.