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Frick the Rick

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Rick and Morty sat on the living room couch. Rick fiddled around with one of his crazy gadgets on the coffee table, while Morty sat next to him, ostensibly helping him, but secretly sneaking glances at the comic book under the table. Rick turned to Morty and asked,

“Hey Morty, can you tell me what I'm doing here?”

“You're holding some kind of thing, some kind of tool thing, I-I don't know! I don't know what you're supposed to be doing. Are you trying to test me? Tests make me real anxious, Rick, you should know that.”

“Morty, I'm not testing you, I'm testing the universe. Now, look closely, Morty.” Rick picked up the thing he was working on and shoved it in Morty's face. “Can you describe anything about this? Is it shiny? Does it make sparks? Does it beep or have antennas?”

“I don't know, Rick, I can't seem to focus on it for some reason.” Rick shook his head.

“Morty, this can only mean one thing. We're in a fanfic, and the author was too lazy to bullshit some device for me to work on!”

“What does that even mean, Rick? What's a fanfic?”

“It's just a kind of story people write using other people's characters and worlds. They're usually pretty bad, grammar–urrp–mistakes everywhere, lack of plot, out-of-character interactions. Good thing I caught on so quickly, because now we can find out what the author wants and finish the story as soon as possible.” Rick pulled out a long, bent metal tube with a pair of handles. “Hold up this fourth wall periscope, Morty. I'm going to check out the fic's summary.” Rick looked through the periscope's lens, cranking up the scope until it disappeared above Morty's head.

 

“It says, 'Rick realizes he and Morty are in a fanfic, and the only way to finish the story is to have sex.' Oh, oh no. Morty, this is bad, this is real bad.”

“Oh geez Rick, I don't wanna do that kinda stuff with you,” Morty cringed. “You're my grandpa, and also really old, I mean really, really old, you're like eighty or something!”

“It gets worse, Morty. The fanfic is rated E. You know what that means, Morty? You know what that means!” Rick shook Morty by the shirt. “It means we can't even use a tasteful fade-to-black! We gotta do it! People are gonna read about Rick fucking Morty in the ass!”

“That's so gross, Rick, do we really have to?”

“Yes, Morty, unless you have any other ideas on how to end the story.”

“Uhh, well, maybe if we act boring, the author will lose interest and stop writing? I know that's what happens every time I have to write an essay for school.”

Rick and Morty proceeded to stare at the wall for the next eight hours.

“This was a terrible idea, Morty, I don't know why I listened to you,” Rick said. “The author can just fast-forward time, but we actually have to live it!”

“I'm sorry Rick, I tried!” Rick sighed.

“It's not your fault, Morty, you're written to be dumb. It looks like there's only one way we're getting to the end of this story. Get on the bed, Morty.”

“What bed, I don't remember there being any—oof!” Morty tripped and fell face first into his mattress. “How did my bed get into the living room? Where did my clothes go?”

“It's a fanfic, Morty, they don't have to have internal consistency.” A nude Rick sat down on the bed next to him. When his bare ass met bed, he grimaced. “Uhrg, Morty, you really have to wash your sheets more often. I'm just going to pretend this crusty spot is mashed potatoes.” The two males sat awkwardly next to each other, avoiding eye contact. Rick took a swig out of his flask.

“You want some, Morty?”

“No, I'm already so nervous, I think I'm gonna puke.”

“Take some deep breaths, Morty, I don't want you to faint. I've been on this fucked – urrp – up road before, I'll drive. If anything hurts, Morty, just tell me.”

“I don't wanna do this, Rick! I don't want my first time to be with my grandpa!”

“Look, Morty, there's nothing we can do about this story, it's already been written. Just-just close your eyes. Pretend I'm Jessica, if it makes you feel better.” Morty took a deep breath and screwed his eyes shut. He felt a hand on his head, just petting his hair. Despite the deep awkwardness of their situation, it felt … nice. The boy exhaled, relaxing into Rick's chest.

“You're a good boy, Morty. I'm gonna make you feel good. Just trust me.” Rick moved his hand to rub Morty's back, still rubbing platonically.

Rick's lips touched lightly to Morty's own. The skin was cracked and dry, scraping against Morty's own. Rick's hot breath puffed against Morty's nose, prickling his lungs like window cleaner. Rick wasn't pressing his advantage, but just pausing, lips flush. Light fingers played against the boy's neck, conducting shivery sparks down his back. Morty moaned deep in his throat and pressed forward.

That was apparently the signal Rick had been waiting for, because the scientist opened his mouth and slid his tongue out. He tasted like cheap booze, with a hint of bile. Morty let the wet organ into his mouth, still not quite believing what was happening. Rick's tongue writhed and stroked against his own. What was he supposed to do? He'd never frenched anyone before, he was going to mess up and Rick was going to be so disgusted, he'd puke in his mouth.

Rick sealed his mouth against Morty's and sucked hard, drawing Morty's tongue into his mouth. Morty twitched his tongue tentatively against Rick's and was rewarded with a sharp exhale from Rick. So that's how the game was played. Morty matched lick with lick, entwining the two tongues like mating snakes.

With a last nibble on his bottom lip, Rick pulled away. Morty wiped the spit from his mouth, marveling at how soft his lips had become. His head was filled with giddy static, his brain tuned to a dead station.

“How ya holding up, Morty?” Some incoherent noises fell out of the boy's mouth. Rick grinned.

“Your grandpa's still got it. Voted best lay this side of Alpha Centauri, ten meta-cycles in a row. And it looks like Morty Junior agrees.”

“Hey, you leave my son out of this!”

“I'm talking about your dick, Morty. I can't beli–urrp–eve my genes went into making someone this stupid.” Rick reached between Morty's legs. A burst of pleasure made Morty's toes curl. The feeling of a hand on his dick was completely different when it was someone else's hand. Morty jerked his hips up into the warm firmness of Rick's palm, the loose skin of Morty's cock rolling over the base of his tip with every stroke. While Rick drove Morty mad with one hand, the mad scientist ticked off a count on the other.

“Make-out scene, check. Hand job, check. Next is the blow job. Okay, Morty, lick my balls.”

“Oh, I don't know, Rick, I'm not sure I can do that.”

“You gotta do it, Morty, you gotta finish the story, you gotta, you gotta lick my balls.”

“Okay, all right, Rick!” Morty crouched down to crotch level. Rick's dick – sized much bigger than Morty's own – was lying heavy and half-hard on his leg. Morty gingerly peeled it out of the way to reveal the hairy, wrinkly testicles, the balls shifting under the skin with the change in temperature. He reluctantly poked one of the balls with his tongue.

“Bluh! Your balls are all hairy, Rick, I got a pubic hair in my mouth, oh god, I think I swallowed it.”

“Jesus Christ, Morty, I'm going to die of old age before this fanfic ends. I'll do the obligatory blow-job scene. Come here.” Grumbling, Rick pulled Morty until his feet were dangling on the side of the bed. Rick knelt on the ground between Morty's knees and took the boy into his mouth.

If he thought the hand job was good, the blowjob was mind-blowing. His dick was in a paradise of warm heat, slick wetness, and rhythmic suction. Rick bobbed his head up and down, retreating until only Morty's tip was in his mouth, then plunging forward until Morty was balls-deep in his grandfather's mouth. One hand gently fondled Morty's balls, the other pressed down on his taint, every inch of his dick rubbed and sucked and squeezed until Morty felt like he would melt from pleasure.

Barely a minute, and Morty was already feeling tightness in his balls. His muscles spasmed, squirting jizz in sync with waves of bliss. Rick kept sucking through the pulses of Morty's orgasm until Morty was drained dry. Breathing heavily, the boy flopped back onto the bed, limbs heavy. His face curled into a dorky grin all of its own accord. Rick swallowed Morty's load and chased it with a swig from his flask.

“You know, I'm gonna let it slide this time, Morty, 'cuz this was your first time and we're in a fanfic, but you really gotta warn someone when you're about to jizz in their mouth, it's only polite.” Rick belched, and made a face. “Uhrg, I'm gonna be tasting your load all day.” Rick stood up and started stroking himself to firmness.

“What are you doing, Rick?” Morty said in a daze.

“There's one last thing we gotta do before the story's over. I gotta fuck you, Morty. I gotta fuck you in the ass.” Morty's formerly slack body tensed up.

“But I already came, I thought the story was over, Rick, I thought that was all we had to do.”

“Morty, you've seen plenty of pornos, you know the steps: makeout, handjob, blowjob, penetration. That's the formula, the formula that makes the big bucks. Trust me, Morty, it'll feel good. I stick stuff up my ass all the time.” Rick ran his finger down the cleft of Morty's ass, but Morty jerked away before he made contact with his asshole.

“Rick, you-you made me put those mega seeds up my butt and it hurt, that's not what butts are for, things are supposed to come out of there, not go in.”

“Are you really going to be a hard-ass about this, Morty? We're already at almost two thousand words, how long do you want this fanfic to be?”

“I'm not doing it! I-I gotta draw a line in the sand, Rick. This is my line! I'm not giving up my anal virginity to my grandpa!” Rick shot Morty a glare. He reached under the bed and pulled out a pump-bottle of lube. Rick pressed out a large dollop of lube, rubbing it between his fingers.

“Close your eyes, Morty.”

“What are you going to do, Rick?”

“I said, close your eyes! Don't make this harder than it needs to be!” Morty covered his eyes with his right hand, clutching the bedsheet with the other. Blinded, Morty's other senses were tuned to hypervigillance. The slightest brush could be Rick beginning his assault. The room was quiet, no white noise masking the slick sounds of Rick lubing himself up. Morty was trying not to think about being skewered on Rick's sizeable dick, but each groan from Rick was one step closer to his fate.

Morty felt a hand clutch his limp dick, working it back to hardness. If he remained soft, maybe he could delay the inevitable. But, despite the fact that he had come only moments before, he could feel himself hardening again. Pleasure came mechanically, a physical reaction to Rick's talented hands. And on the heels of that pleasure followed fear.

Rick shifted on the bed. Oh god, here it comes. Morty screwed up his asshole and clutched harder at the bedsheet. Morty felt Rick position his dick straight up, and then Morty's dick was enveloped in a tight heat. Morty opened his fingers a crack to see Rick straddling his body, his dick disappearing into Rick's ass.

“Oh my god, I'm fucking my own grandpa!”

“Morty, I told you to keep your eyes shut. If you lose your boner, you're fucked!” But as mortifying as this moment was, Morty could not look away from the sight of Rick bouncing up and down on Morty's dick, his loose old-man flesh flapping with every movement.

“Is this doing anything for you, Morty? Are you hot for grandpa?” Rick panted. Beads of sweat dripped from his face and splashed on Morty's chest. “I'm bustin' my ass, doing all the work around here. Ow, my leg!” Rick gripped his thigh.

“What's wrong, Rick, are you hurt?”

“It's just a cramp, I'll be fine, just-just give me a moment.” Rick stretched his leg, trying to work the kink out of it. “Umph, should have stretched.” Morty pulled out of Rick.

“For fuck's sake, Morty, don't go pussying out on me now!”

“For this whole fanfic, you've been trying to show me a good time and I've just been lying around like a-a dead fish. But, we're Rick and Morty. We work best as a team. Now, let's finish this story, together!” Rick was silent for a moment.

“Whatever you say, scamp. Now, hurry up and fuck me in the ass!” Morty knew that was the closest his grandpa would get to admitting gratitude.

“Okay, Rick, I'll do it!” Rick moved so that he was lying on his belly, his ass dangling over the edge of the mattress. Morty stood behind Rick. Rick's back was bony, his spine jutting out like a mountain range. Thin white scars criss-crossed his skin. Morty traced a hand down a quartet of lines that could have been a claw scratch.

“I'm growing mold down here. Hurry up, Morty.”

“Okay, I'm going in.” Morty stroked himself to full hardness and pushed in. His dick went in smooth, Rick's ass swallowing him fluidly. Morty stilled for a second, luxuriating in the velvety warmth.

“Earth to Morty! Don't tell me you came already, sheesh, you're such a minute man.”

“I did not, Rick!” In retaliation, Morty pulled out and slammed back in again, slapping his thigh against Rick's ass.

“Aww yeah, baby, that's more like it!” Rick grunted. “Oh, ah, Morty, stand a little to the left.”

“Like this, Rick?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, right there!” Rick clenched down on Morty, sending another spike of pleasure down his dick. It was unbelievable, how good thrusting into another body felt. Morty's world shrank to two dimensions, forward and back, in and out.

Too soon, Morty felt the pressure building in his balls again.

“Rick, I'm close. I'm gonna come, I'm coming, oh~” Morty warbled.

“Yeah, Morty, do it, come in your grandpa's ass, Morty!” Morty gave one last, violent thrust and came. Then he immediately collapsed onto Rick's back, spent from coming twice in such short succession. Rick pulled himself off of Morty's softening cock and rolled the boy to the side of the bed. While Morty luxuriated in the afterglow, Rick jerked himself off to completion.

“Just a little more, a little more, oh fuck!” Rick's muscles spasmed, and he spurted all over his hand. After milking the last few drops from his dick, he wiped his hands on the discarded yellow t-shirt on the ground.

“We did it, Rick. Does this mean the story's over?”

“Yes and no,” said Rick, lighting a cigarette. “See, this fic's over, but if a lot of readers leave positive comments on this story, the author's going to write a sequel. And it's gonna get worse. Much worse. There'll probably be an incident with a tentacle monster, or Jerry's gonna get involved, or maybe some kind of runaway fuck robot. My point being, we gotta make this story so bad, nobody's gonna want to read it and the author will move on to other fandoms.”

“How are we gonna do that, Rick?”

“There's only one way. You gotta shit on me, Morty.”

“What! Why do I have to do that, Rick?”

“A lot of people don't like shit, it crosses a line for them. It's hypo–urrp–critical, because with the amount of butt-fucking that goes around here, you're bound to ram into a turd eventually. Now, shit Morty! Shit for your life!”

“Get off my bed first, Rick.” Rick shuffled off the bed and lay on the ground, arms behind his head like he was suntanning at the beach. Morty squatted over him, back facing Rick so he wouldn't have to look at Rick's face. The boy strained.

“I can see the turd! It's so thick, it's like a python escaping from your ass. It's like you're frosting my chest with shit. Smells like a sewage pipe burst in here, pee-uuu.”

“Rick, there's no more poop in me, I'm all pooped out.”

“That's good Morty, it's working, the author has stopped using descriptions, it's all dialogue now. Now we just gotta push it a little further. Eat your shit, Morty, eat it! Clean my shitty chest with your tongue.”

“Oh, oh god, Rick, I-I'm lowering my head, I'm opening my mouth, I'm sticking out my tongue and–”