In the morning I find myself rather helplessly stuck in the bath. It's one of the weird mornings that I get stuck with a vigorous boner, and am helpless in terms of getting rid of it. I can for the tenth time start fantasizing about whatever, and have the ideas become slowly so graphic that even I lose interest. But not the fucking boner. Jesus, can I just cut it off? I think of the scalpel piercing the topmost layer of skin at the base. I take a blissfully shuttering butterfly of a breath, as blood pours down my thighs. Then the scalpel with one swift motion cuts the rest clean off. I suppress a scream of horror and loose the pink haze, but not the shit-cock-god-damn-mother-fucking boner. Should I just duct tape it? Or maybe I'll take a pill and sleep it off. But it's already two o'clock, and mum wanted me to help do the laundry after dinner. Oh what the hell. I get out of the bath, and wash my hair with the showerhead, while letting the soapy water drain out. I dry up with two towels, then wrap them both on my waist, and dart back to my room through the thankfully empty hallway. Good. Now only the houseplants know how deprived I am.
I write a sticky note saying :" not feeling great, took a Mirtazapine. Sorry, I'll vacuum tomorrow," and stick it on the outside of the door. I then do just what I said I would. In bed I think for the first time about the fact that I drank last night, so really shouldn't be taking these pills. Can't be bothered to go vomit. I'll chanse it. I watch some videos, and feel the soothing heaviness of limbs. Yeah. I needed this… Fuck you boner.
By the time I wake up it's midnight. My phones screen burns my retinas. I get up real slow, feeling like I'm six pints in. Takes a while to decipher which way is up, and where to place my legs if I want to get to the closet. By the time my loose pyjama pants are on, I think I've got it figured out. I stumble towards the fridge downstairs as a man on a mission, codename 'that lengthwise halved chocolate pudding'.
I enjoy my treat with a way too big serving spoon, while leaning against the wall at the backyard. I have a comforter from the living room on my shoulder. I listen to the silence of night, what with a few noisy neighbors, it's really quite lovely. I look at the unkempt field of wild flowers slowly swaying in the evening breeze. Some bugs are yelling 'fuck me' in their midst, and I listen to their desperation unfazed. They're just part of the white noise, just like me.
Rick slides through the door, as smoothly as the moved glass on its railings. He sits a bit away from me, and carefully crosses his legs. He reeks of alcohol. Don't blame the guy.
He relaxes against the wall like it's just another sofa: "Beth wanted me to che-EURPH-ck on you once you woke up." I nod into the night. "So whatcha thinking kiddo?" he asks. No one has ever asked me that quite so sincerely, so why the fuck not answer :"My place in the world." He makes a 'ahh'-sound and then points at a point left of the moon:" I once od'd on one of the planets around that sun. It- it really was quite a literal shit show. Shittinng my self and vomiting simult-EOURPH-eneously all the way to the hospital. Sum- My Summer had gotten worried after two weeks, and found my spare portalgun. I was a real idiot leaving my next location marked on my notepad in plain view. It took her another two days of vigorous searching to find me. But by then I was already knocking at the gates of oblivion. I slipped into a coma for a week. Took another year of recovery. My body is getting too old for that shit. Fucking never forgave her for going through my things, and refused to thank her. Fuck..."
"Are you uh trying to give me perspective or something?" I ask. He humms: "Don't really know, just talking I guess. Sharing my experiences and shit, like they say you're supposed to. Tho I'm 99% sure they talk about sibling death and break ups, not overdosing in a shit hole alien motel."
I stare into space: "I can't go into high buildings. The urge to jump is too strong. So I've told everyone I'm afraid of heights." He snorts. We stay in a comfortable silence for quite a while, till I ask him:" did you ever get lonely on your trips?"
He has produced a tiny bong out of his lab coat, and is prepping it while he answers:" I don't mind the loneliness. Because I know exactly what I like, and not to br-ARBH-ag, unlike most people I don't just toss off, I do foreplay and shit, and really make love to myself. The years alone between random hookups have made me quite the masterful Rick player."
"Have you ever… with-with other Rick's?" I ask unashamedly curious. He has jumped subjects like a man of a burning building, no remorse. I really don't mind.
He laughs:" Shit yeah. The problem is that we're all too selfish to concentrate on one of us. It's like trying to make two bulls fighting - of the same territory mind you- fuck. It works but it'll be fucking angry fucking and they both stab each other in the back with their horns -if just a little bit- constantly. Jeesh what a shit metaphor."
I'm still riding on a med mellow, and get blank when trying to conjure a better one. He's finished with his craft work project and looks at me expectantly. I nod. He smiles in jest:" Not everyday you meet a Morty who is- who's cool with Meds, alcohol, and weed. Weirdo. What else you into?" While talking he has got up and is pointing me in. I follow him to the garage. When the door is closed I take a puff of moist garage air:" I've tried a lot. But those are my drugs of choice really. Not many people know me so if I do get a group invitation and go to some house party, not a single person gives a shit if I get fucked up. And also it's way too easy to buy drugs on campus, and e-even easier to hide them in this house. It's a real secret hoarders dream."
"Maybe that's why almost every Beth stays here," he quips and lights up. I take it from him, and like in a romantic comedy our fingers graze. It even feels funny at the bottom of my belly, just like they always describe it. He breaths out a beautiful swirl of smoke, as I inhale. Then he inhales as I exhale. This peaceful rhythm goes on for a while, only the bubbling water breaking the silence. When just ashes are left we have found ourselves onto the makeshift bed. He places the glass ornament aside and kicks back full length. I lean on my knees, while his legs go under mine. We make a perverse cross of some kind if looked at from above.
I almost see firecrackers, and melt in dizzying bliss. I find my way next to him, and lean my face on his chest without thought or shame. I just need a person right now. He doesn't comment, just moves to pet my hair. It's really quite innocent if we technically weren't related. I can hear his sped up heartbeat echoing in his lungs.
He sighs, sounding strained:" Morty you gotta- you need to know that I'm not that regular either." "Ok,"I mumble Into his lab coat. "No Morty," he says in a demanding voice, takes a bit of space between us to look me in the eye: "If you wanna go-like really go down this road with me, I need you to understand my needs."
"Uh, yeah, sure. Just tell me," I say with sincerity.
"I don't think I'll remember to mention everything, so I'll just write you a list. You can mark what you th-EURP-ink of each of them and return it to me and we'll see if this'll work out."
"I don't need it to work out," I whisper the truth just sneaking out without consent, so I elaborate:" I-I just… It feels good and I'm just enjoying all I'm getting no strings attached. I mean how-to how the fuck do I know what I'll feel in a week. I'm just a raging hormone machine. So just easy, ok?" He looks at me weirdly proud, and traces my jaw with his index. He smiles, staring at my lips. He goes all Casanova on my ass and whispers :"amore", while tracing the left corner of my lips with his thumb. He comes closer, our breath dancing together: "If we're as compatible as I think, you'll never want to turn back," and then he places the softest of kisses on my lower lip. God how I need more. It takes a lot of mustering up courage, but I reach out and grab his jaw, bringing our lips fully together. He makes a soft appreciative sound that vibrates through my body like molten gold. He bites my lip playfully and too soft for my liking. I straddle him and deepen the kiss for a while, but soon creep a trail of kisses across his sharp cheekbone and let my warm breath tickle his ear for a while, then whisper:"Harder." He abides fast as lightning, like his finger was lingering on the trigger the entire time. He first attacks that soft patch of skin where my neck meets my shoulder. It starts with hard nips, but slowly devolves into sucking and biting. He uses the sharp corners of his crowns like a fucking pro. He moves his mouth ever so slightly up the expanse of skin leading to my jaw, biting and sucking like he's looking for something. And shit does he ever find it. He applies pressure to a spot with a combination of a shallow vein and sore muscles. "Jesus," I whisper between pants. Meanwhile he pets the other shoulder, every now and again running a nail against my collarbone or adams apple. I'm a moaning mess, just about able to hold myself up with my elbows. His free hand is trailing down my bare back, with the softest of touches. That doesn't last long, as like one wave of sensation he bites down on my neck like raw venison, digs his nails around my throat and scratches a long gash shoulder to hip. I short-circuit and grind against him instinctively. Then we both take a moment to draw air, as it feels way too fucking nice to get some friction. I roll my hips, and the movement moves new air on to the long stripe of broken skin on my back, so while losing all sense of being human, grind again from the sensation. Rick moves both his hands onto my hips. The command to strip him, comes out between leisurely kisses to my jaw. I pull back and let him tell me what piece of clothing comes next. Too soon I'm greeted by a naked man on the bed, pulling me by the hand closer, stopping my admiring before I even get to start. "Another time. Strip," He commands and I shimmy myself bare. He appreciates the view heavy-lidded. Then follows an invisible line, with his long rough padded right index, all the way from my chest to the beginning of my barely there happy trail. He dips his fingertip into my naval momentarily, then following its edge to where my leg meets torso. The hand is close to where I want it, I think of it as a tease. That is until my inner thigh is marked with long sharp nails. A shuttering breath later, I reopen my eyes. He's looking at me with such intensity I might turn diamond. I feel like I'm also worth that human sized diamond, as he flips us around. The beds size makes it a bit of a hassle. I don't mind, cause now he's on top. It feels right. It looks right. Also he seems to be hung like a horse, damn.
I get a quick peck on the lips before a trail of kisses and nibbles moves the man on top of me lower and lower. Needing something to ground myself with I grab his left shoulder. He passes my painfully hard cock once more, going lower. First he just blows air on the fresh gashes. My breath hitches, but then he kisses the open flesh, and I see my knuckles on his shoulder turning white. I scream in a combination of frustration, pain and pleasure. "God you sound nice," he murmurs against the wound, making me whimper. I want to touch myself so damn bad. Or literally any friction would do. Rick slaps away my hand that's creeping towards jackpot:" You come when I make you." I don't want to listen to him, but then he growls with a deep well practiced bass, and it's impossible to not obey my superior. I bare him my neck once more and he comes up to bite it. "Gotcha," I think and grind our bare glories together. He is taken by surprise, but just accepts where this is going, and pins my hands above my head with one of his. I let him take over as he wraps both of us in his other hand and starts a rhythm. It's dry, with only precome as lubricant, but neither cares as we find a good pace. I look in awe at his blissful expressions as he rides on the same tidal wave.
My moans turn into begs as my release starts pooling up. Nothing legible, but he knows what the fuck I want. Rick leans on his other elbow and adjusts the pressure of his hand, then stealing my lips into a ravishing kiss. We moan into the others mouth in between series of faster strokes. He bites my lip piercing the sensitive skin on the inside, and I leave earth.
He must have finished too at some point as he slumps, forehead heavily resting on mine. We just pant for a long time, not moving. He slowly releases me and goes back down to lick me clean. What a tongue. He gets to my sensitive tip, and it feels uncomfortably good. Soon the moment passes and he just nuzzles the base of my cock affectionately. We stay like that a long while, coming back to our senses. "How was it?" he asks, voice low. "Thank you," I answer unable to procure something better. My hand finds his hair, and begins to pet the coarse unruly wilderness. He turns to look at me with that dumb post-orgasmic bliss face you see in shitty romance movies starring Meg Ryan. It suits him. "You think you could take more?" he asks eyes gleaming yet heavy. I weigh my answer for just a moment:" Fuck yeah." He grins at my answer and comes back up, kissing me again. "Good. Don't think I could stop."