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Morty’s wide eyes were reflected back at him, except the other eyes were framed with long, curling lashes. The other him looked bored, their finger twirling a long lock of hair around.
“R-R-Rick! T-th-thats’s me!” Morty stammered anxiously, shock evident in how high pitched his voice got. The fourteen year old looked down, mouth agape at the sight of small breasts where his own chest was flat. “O-oh geez.”
Rick rolled his eyes almost in embarrassment of his Morty as he faced the female version of himself. “Duh, no shit, Morty. They're Morticia’s. Jeez, y-you'd think you'd learn something by now.”
“Hah, your Morty’s pretty stupid, Rick,” the unibrowed woman remarked, smirking confidently as she crossed her arms.
Rick sneered at her and rested a possessive hand on Morty’s shoulder, his arm brushing the back of Morty’s neck. “Hey, no one calls m-my Morty stupid but me, bitch. May-maybe if your Morticia wasn't such a slut--”
“Oh, my Morty’s a slut?” Richelle snorted and put her arm around her granddaughter. “If I'm not mistaken, it's Morty’s who are so quick to leave their Rick for another. Maybe if you treated your Morty with respect--”
“W-what? Are you telling me to be a feminist, now?”
They were supposed to be on a simple mission, Morty recalled hopelessly, but somehow it turned into a fucking circus show when they ran into another Rick and Morty. Morty looked around the small town, seeing a motel a few feet away and a strip mall a couple blocks down. A big ice cream shop took his attention until Richelle's scratchy voice interrupted his ice cream day dream.
“Fuck you, rickhole. Rick’s are notorious for treating Morty’s like shit! Are you trying to tell me you're any different?”
“The fuck I am, but I treat my Morty right. Tell her, Morty.” He squeezed the boy's shoulder almost painfully.
“Y-yeah, Ri-ow-Rick-that hurts.”
“Shut up, Morty, you're making me look like a dick here.”
“You do that well enough yourself,” Morticia muttered, 5 foot 2 and full of sass.
“W-what, you think you're so high a-uuuegh-and mi-uuegh-ighty?” Rick looked at the Morticia cowering slightly into Richelle. “Let me guess, your slutty old grandma here probably fingers your tight little pussy, huh? Th-that’s why you're so--so Stockholming it, huh?”
“Rick!” His Morty hissed, tugging at the lapel of his jacket. “Shut up.” Rick ignored him but pushed his tiny fists away.
Morticia frowned and glared back at Rick.
Rick smirked and looked at Richelle. “Fuckin knew it, dawg, you dirty whore. Can't have a Morty so you gotta fuck her.”
“S-shut up, Rick. I don’t want a Morty. M-Morticia’s more competent than all the Morty’s combined. And you’re-you're one to talk. I can smell your cum every time your Morty opens his mouth.”
“Oh, you're sick. You-you think I'm some dirty Morty-fucker. I-I don't touch my Morty.”
Richelle glared down at Morty and he nervously shifted his feet around. It was true Rick didn't touch him, but the looks the older man gave him were enough to know that touching was soon to come. His female grandpa smirked, seeming to read his mind.
“Not yet. L-look at you two,” she chuckled humorlessly as she looked between the two. They were standing close with Rick's arm still possessively wrapped around Morty. “How's the sexual ten-tension feel? Don't you want to know what it's like to fuck him? He'll scream your name, Rick, he'll beg to get fucked by that big dick.”
Morty felt Rick shudder and the older man took a deep drink from his flask before responding. “First of all, fuck you. Second of all, Morty doesn't need me to fuck him up even more than I already do.” Morty looked up at Rick when he said that, wondering when Rick decided that fucking his grandson was worse than all the other shit he made him go through. “You on the other hand could use a big fat dick in your mouth to shut you up for once. Hah, bet you'd like it too.”
“I don't need a man, Rick. I've got all I need right here,” she waved her long fingers in his face and smirked. “Besides, all Rick’s do is cum and go.” Her cold eyes looked down at Morty. “Remember that when he’s trying to go balls deep, kiddo. Rick's don't care about Morty’s. But Richelle's do.” She winked at him.
That set Rick off. He pushed Morty behind him, one hand pressed against Morty’s chest as the other pointed at Richelle. “Y-you back the fuck off my Morty, bitch. Don't-don't even fucking look at him. He's mine.” Rick was growling almost animalistically as he said this, and Morty felt, for once, that Rick actually cared about him.
Morty leaned around and met the eyes of his female doppelganger. The girl sighed as if she was used to this. He felt her pain. Or maybe it was his pain. Shared pain? The whole multiple Morty’s thing still confused him.
“I don't want that little twig! And I'm not talking about his body size. Gonna need more than a few inches.”
Morry wasn't sure how he felt about everyone knowing he had a small dick. Like, should he be relieved he had no secrets among Rick’s or should he be bothered? He had no idea and often decided it was a bad thing.
“Oh, yeah, I bet. I-I bet your pussies so stretched out an elephant dick would complain about the draft. I-I bet you could spread you legs and use your vagina like a wind chime!”
“Oh, that's all you got. Tell me how many intergalactic brothels you've been to? How many Morty-brothels at that! Le Casa de Morty seems to be a regular spot for sick fucks like you. I bet you jerk off to his dirty underwear huh? Cry about it later?”
“You need to shut the fuck up,” Rick took a step closer, poking her chest as he spoke. Morty knew Richelle hit a sensitive spot by how he was reacting. He wondered which thing she said was true. It was probably the most fucked up one. “At least I'm not some heartless, old bitch with a dried up cunt.”
“Far from dried up if last night was anything to go by,” Richelle sneered while her Morticia blushed bright pink.
“Oh yeah? Need lube?”
“Not a drop.”
In a second the Rick's were at each other. At first Morty thought they were fighting, but the moans and groans of pleasure quickly kicked that thought away.
“R-Rick?” Morty’s eyes were the size of saucers as he watch his Rick furiously making out with the female version of himself. They were kissing so hard Morty could hear their teeth knocking together.
“Oh, fuck,” one of the Rick’s groaned, “‘m such a s-slut.” That sounded like his Rick.
Morty shook his head and moved out of the way as his Rick grabbed Richelle's ass and grinded against her. He wanted to cover his eyes and ears but he didn't have enough hands for that. Hands were everywhere and soon enough one of them was trying to take their clothes off.
Morty stood next to his girl self as they watched their respective grandparents make out heavily while forcing each other to walk backwards into the closest motel. It didn't seem like they would even make it to a room, not with Richelle sticking a hand down Rick’s pants and throwing her head back to moan as Rick bit at her neck and shoved her against a wall.
Part of Morty was really turned on by seeing Rick’s make out, even if one was a female, but a lot of him was just flat out jealous. He wanted Rick to attack him like that, unable to help himself as he bucked against him, trying to find tantalizing pleasure. He didn't want someone else to touch his Rick. He thought it should be universal-- no one touches Morty, no one touches Rick. But when I came to Rick, Rick could do whatever he wanted. Even leave his grandson while he went to fuck himself into some shitty alien motel bed.
Once they were gone and disturbing sounds were well away from their young ears, Morticia turned to Morty. “Wanna get some ice cream or something?”
Morty nodded, “yeah, w-why not?”
They walked away, similar in their movements besides the soft sway of Morticia's hips. Morty didn't know why he was looking, it was weird to check himself out, but it was kind of interesting. Seeing himself as a girl was kind of neat. It was like looking through a mirror and seeing something different instead of the same old thing all the time. It was almost refreshing.
Once they had their ice cream they sat facing each other. Morty was shocked to find out that...he was kind of cute.
He couldn't say he thought that about the other Morty’s. But the Morticia’s...that was something different. They were softer with supple bodies, had much longer and thicker hair that framed their sweet face, big almond shaped eyes with long eyelashes, and lips so full and pouty it was almost sinful. If Morticia was someone else, not just him, Morty could find himself having a crush on her. It made sense that Rick’s fetishized her.
“Oh, geez,” the Morty’s said at the same time. Their eyes met and they both blushed.
“D-do we have the same thoughts, t-too?” Morty asked, taking a hesitant lick off his chocolate cone.
Morticia blinked and looked away nervously. “H-hope not.”
Morty wasn't sure if it was a relief that the girl version of him was just as awkward. He would feel bad if she was even cooler than him. Which reminded him.
“H-hey, so is everyone the--the opposite? Like...is Mom like...Dad?”
Morticia nodded and licked her chocolate cone too. Morty couldn't help but watch. “Y-yeah. Dad and Mom I guess are Mom and Dad to you. S-same with August…”
“Summer? Wow, I guess Mom really liked the seasons. I-I mean, Dad?”
“I-it's cool, I get it. Yeah, Dad is Ben, Mom is Jenny, and S-Summer is August.”
“S-so...do you-uhum-does Je-Jessica-?”
“Jesse?” Morticia blushed so Morty knew the crush for the redhead was prevalent in any timeline. “We went on one d-date but R-Richelle made it obvious that I-I belonged to her only.”
Morty frowned. “Ah, geez, that must suck.”
“Not really,” came the surprising answer. Morticia smirked at his shock. “Jesse’s shallow and Richelle actually knows me. She knows I-Im gross and embarrassing and she still loves me.” A dreamy look replaced the amused look in her eyes as she spoke about her grandma.
Morty’s eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty. “R-really? She loves you?”
“Hard to believe, I know. And it's not like she says it, but you kinda just...know, y’know?”
“N-no...no I don't,” Morty suddenly didn't want to finish his cone, thinking about Rick made his stomach hurt. “So, Principal Vagina.”
Morticia giggled cutely. “Still Vagina unfortunately.”
“Nah, I-I think it's better than Principal Prick or something.” They both laughed and Morty felt a swell of happiness in his chest. Talking to Morticia was so easy. It was different with Rick when every word was a gamble if he would piss the old man off or not. It felt like he actually had a friend his age.
They smiled at each other only to both jump when they heard identical sounding burps coming their way. They both turned their heads and saw their Rick’s. Richelle had a slight limp that she was trying to play off and her lipstick was non existent. Rick just looked smug as all hell and he walked like his dick was the meaning of life.
Morty frowned and looked away from his while Morticia smiled sadly at hers.
“Shi-uuueeegh-shit! I fo-uuugh-rgot how fuckin wild a fuck I was.” Rick remarked while rubbing his hips. “Crazy ass lay, M-oouue-rty, just wild.”
“I don't care, Rick,” Morty muttered and crossed his arms. He just wanted to go home. He didn't want to hear about how good Richelle was in bed.
Rick turned his head to look at Morty, frowning. “What's with-” he glared at Morticia. “What did you do?”
Morticia huffed indignantly, her hands slamming on the table. Her anger actually made Morty feel a bit better. “I didn't do anything. You are the one who should be asked that.” She muttered something derogatory under her breath and turned to her grandma. “C-can we go? This Rick’s a real dick.”
“Heh, well you're right about that,” the old woman smirked suggestively while eyeing Rick appreciatively. “Catch ya later, Rick.”
“Yeah, yeah, bye now. What, you're still here?” Rick growled when Richelle hadn't disappeared instantly. “The fuck you looking at?”
She glared at him. “Remember what I told you, Rick. I don't want to have to repeat myself.”
Rick gave her a sour look and waved her away. “I-I got it, go away now.”
“Come on, Morticia. I got some gossip for you.” She chuckled deviously as she took Morticia’s hand.
“Don't you say a word!”
“Fuck off, Rick.”
“B-bye, Morty,” Morticia waved as she was pulled through a green portal.
“Bye,” Morty muttered too late, in too bad of a mood to even care that he would never see her again. He sighed. Now he was left with Rick.
“H-hey, Morty. Why you look so--why such a long face?” Rick took Morticia's seat and reached out for Morty’s hand. The boy got excited but it was quickly replaced with disappointment when Rick took his melting cone from him and began to eat it. “Mm, fuckin love space chocolate, M-Morty.” His eyes locked with Morty's and there was something noticeably sexual about the look he was giving his grandson.
Morty huffed. “I can't believe you, Rick. No actually, scratch that. I can! I'm not surprised by anything you do anymore,” Morty snapped.
“Whoa, whoa,” Rick burped loudly, “what’s wrong?”
“W-what’s wrong?” Morty yelled, standing up and waving his arms around. “You-you-you bastard!”
“Hey, Morty, calm down,” Rick stood also, throwing the cone to the ground so his hands were free. He gripped Morty’s shoulders tightly. “You're making a scene.”
“So were you when you were fucking yourself! What?! I can't make a scene either?! I can't do what you can do?! I can't-I can't go fuck myself like you can and-and come back expecting things to be the same after that!” Morty was yelling so loud that his face was red and his chest heaving. He was surprised by himself at how furious he came off as. But he wasn't angry, not really, just hurt. But it was easier to yell at Rick than cry at him. Also, less embarrassing.
People--or aliens actually--were giving them strange looks. One had their phone out and was recording it.
Rick sighed and squeezed Morty’s shoulders. “That's why you're upset...come on, Morty. Let's go home.”
“I don't want to go home with you, Rick. Why don't you go find another Richelle or-or Rick. Or a better Morty than me!” Unsurprisingly he felt tears flood his eyes. Morty quickly pushed away from Rick and walked off, not wanting anyone to see that he was crying like a pathetic baby.
He wasn't paying attention to where he was a walking as he rubbed his eyes, so Morty had no idea that Rick had shot a portal in front of him and that he walked right into it. Once he bumped into Rick’s work table he knew and he whipped around to glare at Rick.
“Fuck you,” he felt almost scared when he said it. Never once had he felt those words come out of his mouth with such anger. Like he actually meant it. He wondered if Rick would yell at him because of it, or worse, hit him.
Instead Rick frowned, his features seeming to sag. He just looked at Morty before fussing around with his hands nervously. “You-you’re really mad at me, huh?”
“Yes!”
“Morty--come back, okay? Don't-don't….fuck, will you just sit the fuck down.”
Morty at least would stop pacing. He faced Rick head on as the man stepped up to him. He held his ground, refusing to let Rick walk all over him.
Rick looked down at his grandson, looking like he at least felt bad. “I-I’m sorry.”
Morty felt his body relax at those words. It was rare, but sometimes Rick said he was sorry when he felt Morty would seriously leave him. Not that Morty ever would but sometimes he felt close to bursting. It was one of the few times Morty ever believed a word that came out of his mouth, but now, after today, he wasn't sure if Rick really was sorry.
Rick’s hands cupped his face and Morty felt his heart beating frantically in his chest. He had been waiting for this. For the day that Rick finally acknowledged what they both knew they felt. Morty had been waiting to feel Rick’s lips, his hands, his body. He had been waiting...and he was fine with waiting a little longer.
“No,” Morty whispered and pushed Rick away. He shook his head at Rick’s shocked and, surprisingly, hurt expression. “No, Rick. Not like this.” Morty turned and walked out of the garage and into the hallway. Hurting Rick hurt, but Rick’s been hurting him a lot longer. He deserved it.
That thought helped Morty keep walking even after he heard the shattering sound of glass being thrown against a wall, the sound of it echoing throughout the empty house.
He kept walking until he was in his room where he tucked himself in and cried himself to sleep.
It wasn't the first time, but this time hurt the most.