You don't know how it happened, when it happened, or why you let yourself do this. But you had fallen in love with Rick Sanchez: an unstable, cynical alcoholic. You had a boyfriend. A nice, friendly, sweet boyfriend. He pulled your chair out for you before you sat, and called you beautiful even when you had the flu. But you found your heart racing over the thought of Rick, and he was on your mind all the time - even when your boyfriend was flopping his sweaty body around on yours.
You were the personal assistant to Flesh Curtains soundtrack producer, Daniel Curtz, which was a nice job. You got to meet famous musicians all the time, many of them having loud, enchanting personalities that would sweep you up and talk you to luxurious after parties. But Rick's was so loud, that is was deafening. It was well known that you and Rick were quite a tumultuous duo. Usually, you wouldn't really have to interact too much with a musician unless you wanted to. But Rick, feeling the need to pick on the only female in the whole studio, would have you working 24/7. From fetching coffee at 3 A.M. to asking you to buy a "special " brand of flour at the back of a grocery store (which turned out to be cocaine), Rick made you do it all. But what you were even more known for, amongst, the studio was not taking shit from anyone. You weren't necessarily sassy or hot tempered, but you were certainly no doormat. So every time you poured hot coffee on an ungrateful Rick, or spewed out wise cracks to the rude insults he said to you, he seemed to only become more determined to ruin you.
One day, Rick's antics stopped being annoying, and you even begin to appreciate him. His oddness became familiar in the fact that they were weird, and returning to normalcy, a job where people actually treated you kindly - normally - like a stranger, seemed to be completely mundane. And soon after that, you fell for him.
You denied such feelings for the longest of time. Instead of even thinking about Rick, you focused more on your boyfriend. You brought him to the office. You took sick days just to be with him. You always ended your conversations with Rick early so you could talk with your boyfriend. But instead of it reigniting the old passion you had for him, it only reminded you how dull he was in comparison to Rick. Not many carried the same vigor, wit, and fire that Rick did. It was because of that, that Rick was such a good musician - and lover. Many times, groupies had told you how good "between the sheets" Rick was. And every time, you had gagged in disgust. But, now that you found your boyfriend's thrusting to be as pitiful as his wisecracks, you couldn't help but think back to the things those busty groupies had gushed about.
"He's an absolute ANIMAL. Tore off my clothes and pinned me to the floor. We didn't even make it to the bed because he was so thirsty. "
"He's into some real weird shit. But, ya know, a good kind of weird. Whips and chains and oh my."
"He slammed into me until my thighs were raw."
Some of the descriptions were a bit too graphic, you admit. But, right now, you were eternally grateful for all their raunchiness. Because those detailed descriptions offered the most sexual thoughts you had had on your entire weekend with your boyfriend. And now, you were to go on a business trip to an awards ceremony that had nominated Flesh Curtains. How the fuck were you suppose to avoid Rick then? You would literally be spending an entire week with him.

When leaving day finally did roll around, you found yourself just straight up giving Rick the silent treatment. It wasn't even your choice to. Every time Rick came up to you, to say his usual offensive insult or joke, you would suddenly clamp up, your palms sweating and your heart racing. With as much effort as you could muster, you would release an awkward chuckle or some sort of nod - but that was it! And, God, it was so cringe worthy seeing the shock on Rick's face when you didn't have your own sharp retort. After the fifth or forth time, he just gave up. And by the time you two had boarded the private plane headed for the ceremony's location, you two weren't even speaking. Occasionally, he would catch you glancing over at him - to your absolute mortification. And, sometimes, you felt a pair of eyes on the back of your head. But when you turned around, he wasn't looking at you. Actually, it was worse. He was looking at two tarts that he had brought along on the plane, who giggled at everything he said. A pang of jealousy filled your gut, giving you some sort of pain in your throat - as if you were just about to sob. But then your boyfriend sent you a text: "i miss u babe", and you were met with a whole other pain: guilt.
The awards ceremony had just finished. You had watched all of it, alongside your boss and the studio sound engineers, on the tv in your hotel room. Despite the turmoil you had been going through all day, you were having a fun time now. Popcorn was made, beers were poured, and the ceremony was fun to watch. Even though Flesh Curtains had lost, their performance on stage was well received. Particularly towards Rick, he cleaned up well, with his suit and slicked back hair. After screaming into the microphone, his dark strands began to fall in front of his eyes, and, again, you felt that familiar pang of both attraction and guilt.
While you and the others were cleaning up bowls of popcorn, Rick burst into the room, a groupies on each hip and an entourage of musicians behind him.
"Wubba lubba dub dub, bitches! How's it -burp- hanging!"
He was met with a collective greeting. After announcing that all drinks at the bar were on him, the room slowly emptied, leaving a wake of kernel filled bowls. The only remaining people were you, Rick, and his giggling groupies. Though your back was turned to the three, you could see, in the window reflection, Rick whisper in the girls wars before they both exited. He stood there for a moment, hands in his pockets, while you stacked more bowls into a pile.
"S-so, uh, I probably just PMS-ing or w-what-burp-ever, but, uh, you ok? Y-you haven't been really-really friendly lately."
You tried to speak, but your throat catch due to the rapid flapping of butterflies in your stomach. So you turned around and nodded, with a small smile, before turning away again. In the window's reflection, you saw his expression harden to frustration and he calmly threw a lamp down onto the floor - it's loud crash causing you to whip around.
"What the fuck, man! I have to pay for that!"
"F-Finally! That's the girl I know!"
"Fuck off, Rick.", you murmured, sweeping up the broken shards at his feet with a stray magazine. Too focused on your cleaning, you didn't see him angrily swoop down to push your shoulders into a wall.
"What the fuck is going on, y/n!? I don't like p-people who fricken play g-games with me! So what the hell is your deal!"
"Nothing, Rick! Just leave me alone!"
"W-what? Have you -burp- suddenly decided your too good for me?! I-I'm too unworthy to even be in your presence! Huh!? I-is that it!?"
"No, Rick! Oh my god, it's nothing like that! I swear!"
"Then-then, what!? Huh!?"
"I…", you trailed off, unsure if you should do this. Because as soon as you said this, nothing would ever be the same again.
"What is it!?", he yelled, pressing his palms harder into your shoulders.
"I-i like you Rick! And you know…the 'bad' kinda like. The kind that's really, really bad when you have a boyfriend."
Your voice cracked near the end there, and you looked down at your feet - ashamed and humiliated, especially with Rick's gaze on you. And then, with even more force than before, you were pushed onto a bed, with Rick's lips on yours soon after. Hungrily, he tore into your mouth, his hands desperately pulling and tugging at your hair and clothes, as if trying to remember their texture. He felt and squeezed every curve of your body, before kissing and biting your collar bone -leaving purple hickies in his wake. You could feel his unshaven chin scratching into your skin, and the warmth of his searing lips on your jaw line. You were panting now, tugging at his dark hair as if pulling the reins of a horse. And then, abruptly, your phone went off with a text from your boyfriend, telling you could night.
"R-Rick, wait."
"You-you want me t-to stop!?", he rasped, removing his lips from your neck. You sat up, pulling back up the straps of your sundress.
"Yes. But no. Yes and no. I just…I can't cheat on my boyfriend. I can't do that to someone. Especially to someone who's so good to me. I mean, you are the one I want. But I'm still…caring towards him. And, I mean, I don't even know if you're..as serious as I am right now. I…I'm not willing to end my relationship for just a fling, Rick."
Your chest was pounding, and your lips were buzzing from the beating Rick had just given them. You must've looked absolutely terrified in the moment. And, which you soon realized, so did Rick. Lifting himself off of you, he took your hands I his own large, calloused palms, and kissed your knuckles before murmuring,"Honestly, I don't want you to ever leave my arms again."
A liberating feeling of relief welled up inside you, and you threw your arms around Rick, kissing his neck and giggling over the weight that had just flown off your shoulders. Wrapping his arms around you, Rick laid down on the pillows, allowing you two to rest comfortably. You peppered a few more kisses in his face before saying, "But I won't sleep with you. Not until I break up with my boyfriend."
"What!? Why!?"
"If I sleep with you, then I've straight up cheated on him."
"O-oh, so what you -burp- think what we're doing right now isn't considered cheating."
"Well, it is. But I do this with my platonic friends. Granted, we're both straight and we did more as a joke - but I've still done it with platonic friends. And he was fine with that."
"Well, then what are we going to do tonight?"
"I dunno. But, please, don't leave. I know I'm not sleeping with you, but I just want you to stay. "
"Y-yeah, I'll stay. I'll stay all night. I'll stay all week. I-I'll just…stay."
"Good.", you said, placing your head in the crook of his neck. And before you even knew it, you had drifted off to the sound of his heart beat.

Rick's hushed whispering of your name woke you up. In the pitch dark, you groggily responded to his calls.
"Hey, hey, sweetie. I-I need to ask you something."
"What, Rick?"
"W-w-when did you-you know?"
"Know what?"
"T-that you -urp- liked me, huh?"
Even with all your tiredness, you still tried your hardest to pinpoint an exact moment.
"I dunno. I suppose a hinting of romantic feelings began…after that time Curtz's friend was such a douch to me. I mean, God, he was such a dick. He literally said that I must be on my period because I was acting so stupid and not all of the blood was reaching my head or whatever. And Curtz didn't even defend me because this guy was such a hit shot with advertising. And then when you came in, I was so afraid you were going to join in with him. And you did, you ass - until he took it too far and started calling me stupid. And you…you stool up for me. And that meant a lot. It showed you had heart. And that you looked down on me, but not for being…female. And, I dunno, I didn't express it well enough, but I was in awe. That meant so much to me. Nobody's ever defended me like that before. What about you? When did you know?"
"I-I would have to say it occurred pretty e-early on. About a month after -burp- meeting you. Granted, I-i-I did not like you. At first. But it was this day that it has rained really heavily and everyone went outside because we-we were so sick of being cooped up. And I had this girl with me. Brianna? Bianca? Something-something with a-a "B". But, yeah, she was hella annoying. Kept on complaining about all the worms and mud and shit. And then I looked up and y-y-you were just laughing and fooling around. Jumping from puddle to puddle. A-and you were covered in mud and shit, but you didn't e-even care. You were -burp- you were just…happy. And you looked so-so beautiful. I don't know why. You just did."
You were blushing now, burying your nose into his neck. With your palms on his chest, you could now feel that he was shirtless, and a chill ran down your spine.
"Rick?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you ever…think of me?"
"W-what do ya mean?"
"You know. Did you ever, like, get off. To the thought of me."
In the dark, you could only see his silhouette really. But even then, his face and body remained still. Only his heart began to race.
"Yeah", he rasped."I did"
"What did you think of?"
"Y-you. Obviously. But, you under-underneath me. Squirming. Writhing. You were-you were moaning my name."
Rick's hand slipped under his belt as he spoke. You squeezed his wrist, in affirmation, before unzipping your dress and slipping it off. Now in nothing but your underwear, you pressed your chest against his, and his breath hitched slightly at the contact. He wrapped his arm around you and stroked your back before going. Underneath his tough voice, you could hear the sound of his member being pulled up and down.
"And I was j-just desperate to make you cum. I was th-thrusting into you as hard and as fast as I could, sand I could feel myself go breathless and sweaty and weak. But you still hadn't c-cum. And I-I-I…"
Rick's voice cracked as a moan escaped him, and his wrist furiously pumped away. You bite and kissed at his neck, your wrist traveling down his lean torso. At his naval, a hot substance was spritzed onto you wrist and Rick's panting slowed down. He gave you one last, long slow kiss, before falling asleep with his forehead against yours and his dick still out of his pants.

Come morning time, you were sure to call your boyfriend.