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“ But honey, it’s Valentine’s Day! ” Jerry whines rather indignantly as he tails his wife through the living room. Rick rolls his eyes pointedly, but neither of them notice. Beth is busy trying to find her keys in the basket of knickknacks at the door, and Jerry is naturally fixated on the fact that his wife is, yet again, walking out in the middle of something or other for another work - related emergency.
“ Oh, yes, Jerry. Let me just call up Franklin and tell him, ‘Oh, sorry Mr. Sanderson, I know your horse is having extreme labor problems, but it’s Valentine’s Day! I know this means your horse and her foal are going to die, but my husband can’t wait three hours for me to get home!’ “ Beth shoots him a dirty look as she extracts the keys from her purse, jingling them with a purpose.
Instantly, he recoils, mumbling an apology in such a pathetic manner that it actually draws Rick to look away from the new episode of The Millionaire Matchmaker. Jerry moves forward to touch Beth’s arm, but she’s already moving out the door, and he’s left almost getting his fingers slammed against the doorframe in her haste to get out to the car, having a fifteen minute drive ahead of her.
An awkward silence looms over the living room for a moment, and only the sudden sound of a blaring commercial -- really, why were they so much louder than the shows themselves? Jesus -- started the two into any response beyond quiet staring. Rick fumbles for the remote to mute the TV while Jerry, on the verge of a heart attack from the sudden blast of jarring music, tries to catch his breath. And pretend he hadn’t just yelped like a kicked puppy.
Another pause before Rick cracks up, tossing the remote onto the table before kicking his feet up onto it as well. “ Jesus Christ, Jerry. “
“ Oh, like you didn’t jump too, you assface! ” he snaps in his own defense, crossing his arms tight over his chest as if that might spare him any more of Rick’s smartass mockery.
“ At least I didn’t scream. “
“ I didn’t scream, Rick, I just -- ”
“ Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get the fuck over here and watch this stupid show with me. We’re gonna … w - we gotta spice shit up here, Jerry, this shit blows. For a Sunday, there’s nothing on TV right now. ” He off - handedly motions to the couch beside him, then picks up a box of those chalky candy hearts, shaking one out into his palm before popping it into his mouth.
Jerry simply stares at him in bewilderment from his place a few feet before the front door. It wasn’t incredibly often that Rick not only bothered to tolerate his existence, but invited him to hang out. Sure, it’s not the first time it’s happened or anything, but …
The commercials must have come to an end, because Rick seems hyper - focused on the TV again, only noticing that his son-in-law hadn’t taken up his offer to sit down when his hand hits the couch. He’d been going for a slap against his chest, or his arm, by the looks of it.
Offering a deadpan expression, Rick turns his gaze over to where Jerry is still rooted, and stares him down until -- feeling incredibly awkward under his gaze -- Jerry hurriedly shuffles over and plants his ass on the cushion next to Rick.
“ Uh. S - So, what are we watching, Rick … ? ”
Offering only a noncommittal grunt, Rick tosses a box of candy hearts at Jerry’s head. There’s so fucking many of them leftover from Morty (and his failed expedition to woo himself a date on Friday afternoon) that even if he didn’t want to share them, he sure as Hell wasn’t going to be able to eat the rest of these things before he got sick of the idea of them. Seriously. No one could go through like, twelve boxes of these things without wanting to die first. No one.
“ … O -- … kay … “ That didn’t answer anything. Nor did it tell him how they were supposed to make it more interesting, either, but. He realizes he really should just expect these things from Rick at this point. Settling back, he pries open the box, and shakes out a few to munch on.
“ … I - I was gonna say we should adlib the Hell out of this shit, but if you never -- you have no idea what this show is, do you? “ He scoffs at this, popping another candy heart in his mouth whilst maneuvering his foot to push the remote back within arm’s reach.
“ I could still try, ” he offers, voice hopeful. He’s definitely not the best improviser, as he has displayed numerous times, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t try. It sounded kind of fun. He just had to try and guess what these girls were saying, right?
“ Nah. “
“ … Well. Why not? “
“ Forget it, Jerry. “ Rolling his eyes, he flips to another channel. And another. And then another.
Sighing, Jerry sinks down into the couch cushion, and shakes another candy heart out into his palm. He remembers when he used to read them religiously, lick them and try to stamp the letters on his skin. Dumb childish things that he almost misses doing; he’d really lost his childhood and all ability to be a kid when he’d gotten Beth pregnant. He starts reading through them, now.
Love You says the one in his hand currently. Snorting, he drops it into his lap. Maybe he could find a cute one to give to Beth or something when she got home to make up for the whole not-quite argument that they’d had before she stormed out. Heh.
Go Girl. No.
Ur Kind. Lame.
Cutie Pie. Hah. He’s pretty sure he’s never called her that even once, even if it’s true.
But, then the next one he pulls out brings him to pause. This one says … Kiss Me. Licking his lips, he rolls it between his thumb and index finger, contemplating this one. After a moment, he places it on his tongue, imprinted words up, and turns his to Rick with a rather dopey grin on his face.
Rick glances over only after realizing Jerry’s been staring at him for at least half a minute now. And then he does a double - take to read the candy. Instantly, he deadpans, and Jerry laughs nervously, pulling his tongue and the candy back into his mouth.
He doesn’t get a chance to sputter out that he was kidding before there’s a boney hand on the back, yanking him forward, and then a set of lips that were incredibly unfamiliar against his own. They’re kind of chapped, likely from the weather and how often he drools without bothering to wipe it off, but it’s … it’s not that bad? He eases from his tensed state, leaning ever - so - slightly forward …
… only to faceplant right in Rick’s lap as he suddenly pulls back. The hand that had been on his neck comes up to the back of his head, fingers briefly ghosting through his hair before moving away entirely, and above him, Jerry can hear Rick sniggering to himself.
“ Get off of me. ”
It’s still a moment more before Jerry sits himself up, face flushed. Part of him wants to ask what that was about. Another part of him knows not to do that, if he ever hopes to potentially maybe get some more of that later. Instead, he scoots back to his own little area, and starts to sift through the rest of the candies in his box. Alright, maybe finding one for Rick would be easier than finding one for Beth …