I wake in my bed feeling light as a feather and smiling. Oh Jesus, what a hormone rush. I check a patch of public hair at the corner of my 'v' that I just shaved yesterday. It has already grown a bunch. Maybe just to avoid shaving, I'll stop this nonsense with Rick.
I carefully stretch my lower back muscles, and the backs of my legs, to avoid some of the soon arriving muscle ache. I choose a pair of light blue baggy sweatpants, that ride just a little teasingly on the hips, and a longer wife beater. I feel the air in the room for a minute, and pull a cardigan -yes the white trash kind, fuck off- on top. Summer gave it to me since I once leant it, and after that one time -seven times more. I don't care that it's shaped for a curvier body, it's comfy as a soft ass cheek.
I showered in the evening, can't be bothered now. I put my phone in the cardigans pocket, and go brush my teeth. I have that horrible post-hookup breath from swapping saliva, so perhaps some mouthwash too.
As I'm washing my face, Rick (in dad's old bathrobe) opens the door, stops surprised, and then smiles humoured:" sorry, thought both you guys locked the door during your morning routine."
"Is she off already?"
"Yeah"
"Well I'll have you know the only reason I lock the door sometimes is that I don't want mom to see me touching my bishop in a turtleneck. I don't even lock it wh-when I'm taking a shit, because she doesn't care. She's never even really home, and there's nobody else... used to be." As I say the last part he finds my gaze in the mirror. He looks chill, and not horrified by that statement. Perhaps he really is going to stay. He takes out his phone from his robe, to my mortification from a pocket similar ( in placement and size)to my cardigan. He looks at me and presses a few things on screen. My phone buzzes. "What is it?" I ask prepping my toothbrush. He turns the screen at the mirror. It looks to be some kind of list. "It'sthelist. Got your number from Beth mind you," he says. I form an 'oh,' before sticking the loaded brush in my mouth. He leans on the doorframe and looks at me closely while I glide the foaming brush on my porcelains. When I come back up from gargling under the faucet, he's behind me. He strokes the side of my hip, all the way to the prominent top tip of the bone. He feels the smooth edge of the hard skinny surface, like he's feeling me under the skin. "You're so skinny these make you look curvy." He murmurs lips on my scalp. I smile at the compliment: " Not to call my sister hot, bu-but she has that same thing, yet unlike mum and her, I don't got no booty. Makes me ha-have weird dimensions or something." He laughs into my hair. "To be an insecure teenager," he whispers knowing I'll hear. "I really am not a teen anymore,Grandpa,"I shoot back. He pretends hurt for a few seconds before resting his chin on my shoulder:" I'll have you know I would outrun you in a race by miles, you cardiac arrest risk-group/couch potato/growing alcoholic." I note he has quite a stubble. "Uh, Real cold Rick, you really hit the nail on the head there. Su-sure did!" I reply over dramatically. Through the mirror I see the corners of his eyes wrinkle. It looks like spidery legs pressing down on his skin, while the body is the hollow at the corner where all the legs meet with the eyelid, cheek and brow. It's the most brutally honest lace ever sewn.
He sees me looking and raises a brow. With the side of my mouth I kiss his cheekbone: "Admiring the truth of your face old man." He looks quizzed. I like that look. Makes him feel human.
"Weirdo," he mumbles. "Well, uh, really we both are by definition," I muse, and turn to return to my room. He catches me by the mouth and pins between the counter and him. I laugh, and try to leave to read the message, now dying of curiosity. He makes a disappointed gruffy noise, and I grant him a final kiss out of pity( not because I'm dying for one too). "Aww , Morty. Won't enjoy the morning after with me? It's always the fucking best," he acts his part as a good puppy. "You're just afraid once I readthatlist, I'll run away scared,"I say jokingly, but am taken aback when I'm met with seriousness. I stand still in the doorway one foot already out. Our gazes flicker and assess the other. I close the distance once more. I place my palms on his chest and look at my toes:"If you really think that, then let's have breakfast first," I say, and tame his gravity defying hair slightly:" But ,uh you know, Rick you seem like a fucking cool guy and-and mom I'm sure is growing to love your presence. I wan- I want you to stay even if this experiment doesn't work out."
"Ye-yeah Reeeaal classy Morty, showing me wrong right when I called you young and insecure. Making me look like a real piece of - piece of shit Morty, good job," he murmurs mouth almost on mine. I smirk, loving the backhanded compliment. Suits him real damn well to deal them. "Am I being a uncontrollable delinquent? Should I be punished?" I ask with fake innocence, taking a wild guess what's on the list. Judging by the predatory face he makes, it's a goaaaaaal everyone: "Daddy issues, virgin whore complex, or just like punishing? Oh, oh !! or pederasty with a sadistic streak?" He laughs and shakes his head: "Read the list Morty- after breakfast!" he stops me from taking out my phone immediately.
"Fi-fine. Shall I walk you down the stairs to see you won't- don't break your hip, or whatever the fuckpeople of your agesuffer from," I say offering my elbow. He instead shoots a portal on the wall:" why walk when I'm a mother fucking genius." I gotta give it to him:" Oh, who am I to fight a man with superior intellect. Woe is me just a poor dumb whore walking." We grin at one another and step through as strong standing individuals.
I fry us some small pancakes and whip up a quick batch of fresh jam from frozen mixed berries, just like mum showed me. We eat half outside, on the doors rail, wanting to let some fresh air in. He's on a decorative pillow, munching his cakes all concentrated. They seem to have passed inspection. "This is not the best context I can think for these nice berries you made," Rick states not lifting his gaze. "What hap- happened to reading the list?" I ask studying him in the sunlight. His hair gains ethereal qualities when strong light shines through it, and his eyes become lighter in colour. He reminds me of a husky puppy totally not blending to a jolly field of summery goodness. "It won't be long now anyhow," he states matter of factly. I nod and poke last pieces of pancake in my mouth. I get up and leave him looking good at the door.
As I place my dishes in the washer, I feel heavy. Shit. "What happened to no strings? No, fuck, stop being sappy and get this shit done," I tell myself silently and head upstairs.
I take a fresh piece of paper from my personal printer, find a working pen, and open the message. At the top Rick has added:"If you want me to let you know beforehand about something, or stuff like that, write it down."This right off the bat eases my building tension. I have to get super real with myself and check every time I place something in the category of full consent, that it's not just from a hormonal want to please. I have to Google some of the lingo he uses, but every time it turns out I've seen it in a porn at some point. It takes me two hours of wrist cramping work to get my stance on all of his kinks written down. I take a picture of the paper full of my awful scribble, and let my phone sort it out into legible form. I send the text to Rick. He sees the message immediately.
I go lie on my bed to clear my buzzing head. I'm horny and overheated. A cool shower would do wonders. Can't be bothered. I go get some OJ with ice, and don't see Rick on my way. He must be in the garage. I go back up to give him space.
When I haven't gotten a reply in ten minutes, I channel my antsy behaviour into schoolwork. Before I know it mum has returned.
"Hi mum. Want help?" I ask entering the kitchen. She gives me some potatoes to peel and a kiss on the cheek. We work together on food, and talk about the going ons of the neighborhood, like any ol' friday night. It feels just as normal when Rick enters. We exchange glances while mom is uncorking the wine. He nods and smiles. I take it that's a green light. It's hard not to all of a sudden look super happy, and jump in his arms like a schoolgirl. I manage to compose myself and just say:" Oh, hi Rick. We're having potatoes and pork belly!" He makes an approving noise and sits at the table. Mom pours him a glass and they exchange some kind words.
As we start eating Rick gets all excited and crazy:" Oh Beth, I got this brilliant idea today for a new invention, but I need your approval." "Oh?" She asks not really sounding wary. "Yeah, I've been playing around with with this Blurppian technology, that allows for some super realistic gaming, and I've been dying to test it out." "But?" she asks getting slightly impatient. "Well the machines take a lot of space, so I'd like to build a cellar under the garage… And also I want Morty to help me with this project. I feel like I missed out on some real fun, not involving my original Morty in my adventures.. and this would be a great way to safely experience the world without being in any actual danger. It also would really help a bunch," Rick says plucking moms heart strings like a jazz musician. Beth takes a sip of wine thoughtfully: "If the machines, and the building of this thing it's self won't make too much noise, I see no reason to say no." Rick smiles with sunshine," I think that this - this'll be a real experience for Morty being my little assistant. Maybe he'll help me make a whole new kind of game. Not that we need the money, but I'm sure the skills would help Morty in the future get a nice living in the gaming industry." Mom turns to me:" Well Morty, this is kind of up to you. What do you think?" I have to think fast on my feet:" Uh, yeah. Me and Rick talked a bit before y-you came home. I'm really all-all for it." Mom smiles like a prize winning dog owner, and nods vehemently: "Uh-huh. I really like this plan guys. I think this'll turn out nicely. Thank you Rick." She and Rick hold hands over the table for a moment, until mom takes my hand too, and we sit there like peace loving Teletubbies. What a cluster fuck of smiley faces. Rick tells mom he wants to show me some plans, and she dismisses us happily.
Once we're in the garage, Rick leans on the closed door, and lets out a throaty laugh. He pulls me into a bone crushing embrace. "So uh what's this plan really about Rick?" I ask face burrowed in his labcoat. He smells like pungent sweat and alcohol. I weirdly enjoy it. His sweat has a tangy sweet quality that attracts me like a honeybee.
He runs his hands through my tight curls:" We're gonna just what I told your mom. But I made this program back in my old under the garage lair, that let me explore all my fucked up fantasies. I mean I'll probably make a game too just to keep up appearances, but Morty you gotta understand that in this house we simply cannot play out the things I want. So we need either a shit ton of money and a off the planet mansion with full staff," I interrupt him:" Or we use a simulation?" He kisses my forehead:" Yeah. But not just any simul-AAURG-tion baby, a Blurppian simulation. Not like that cheap ass tech the Zigerion use, but a hyper realistic simulation. I can control everything. And once I'm done tweaking it so that there's a guest mode… Yeah" We stand there a while just enjoying the moment and enjoy the others body heat. I'm super excited, and really fucking into his plan.
Beth knocks on the door and we hear her muffled 'goodnight', and in unison we yell the same back. A few moments he waits, listening to her movements through the door, and then turns back to me:" Wanna get high Morty?" How could I say no, when he looks at me like that? " Why the shit not."
I close my eyes, and with my eyelids, the world tips 45 degrees backwards and I go onto an endless loop, falling through space, weightless. I feel safe and complete, with Rick right next to me. Why the shit not indeed.