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His rival, so simple to look at. Basic fit of a yellow shirt and jeans, mirrors his own, yet underestimating his abilities will get you killed.
Morty looks at EM's back, so tense, he is pressing buttons of the space ship like a pro, moves as sharp as a whip. Morty wishes to be handled with such confidence: "Oh, geez, what am I thinking. This guy looks exactly like me... everywhere."
They drive through space for one and only reason. Get to Prime.
Is it adrenaline that pushes his hormones to the edge? EM turns to get something from the back, now facing Morty... what is he thinking?
Morty shivers like a scared pray and only his thoughts stay genuine. "I feel my face getting red. Did he notice? Oh, I look so stupid right now. He is looking at me. Why the hell is he looking at me?"
EM gets god-knows-what from one of the side shelfs. He was so concentrated on carefully handling that thing, that leaning on Morty wasn't a big deal.
Morty's whole body reacted and as he watched EM continue driving, he wanted to touch him again. To find a reason for that. Any damn reason.
"Are you that exited to see Ricks getting butchered? Should I cut them both into pieces and present to you as a gift?" EM chuckled.
"You would?" The air sharply slammed his lungs. Morty saw EM's back twitch. Not a very stoic reaction.
"Are you actually into that? Didn't expect you to support me destroying them one by one in front of your eyes. Huh." Morty didn't listen much. He couldn't care less who this guy kills and why, he just wants those eyes directed at him again. EM is capable of anything, he'd already killed Ricks if he wanted to. Those words mean nothing so...
"I want to touch you." The body can answer.
"What." Did he lost his mind or was it supposed to be funny... "You think you can mess with me just because we look alike, huh, well, you better remember that you are nothing compared to me."
EM stopped the ship in the second and switched his whole attention to the wonky passager. Might as well drop that guy out in open space.
"Geez, you are right" the expression on Mortys face was getting more and more satisfied as he lift his shirt a little, exposing his soft belly: "Your face looks so stupid right now, EM. We do look alike. That funny face of yours means you want that as much as I do."
Morty spread his legs, getting in a comfortable position without breaking eye contact. EM observed that with confusion, but for Morty — the familiar sparkle shined in that look. "Finally, you are looking at me again".
EM felt his hands getting sweaty as Morty moved his hands down the groin and squeezed. There wasn't a lot of space to back up and EM got annoyed by that mere urge. He'll get the situation under control as he always does.
Control.
Morty's hands trembled as he took his pants off and stopped. Morty was glaring directly at EM, asking for permission. It's his place and his meal to devour.
EM moved closer. Tenderly touching Morty's shoulders, chest, belly and lower... The boy trembled under his bare palms, so overwhelming that his eyes became watery. "Geez. You are needy."
EM got down on knees and pulled the other guy's boxers down. He never did that before but it's not like that was hard to figure out.
As he got the taste in his mouth, Morty moaned and arched his back: "Oh, oh, fuck... that's you."
"Of course it's always better when done by me." EM got his mouth full with confidence and felt the pushy movement down his throat. He moved his head back to release the tension but Morty instinctively grabbed his hair and pulled back in.
"Haaaaaaa... you look so cute when angry" Morty let go and EM coughed off. His face was flustered and fingers tightly clunged into Morty's thighs. After a quick pause of both breathing loudly, the boy decided to stay on his knees and have another taste.
He moved up and down, trying from the sides and clumsy figuring out place for his tongue to belong.
"Fuck, EM, I can't... anymore." Morty desperately clawed to the seat, not daring to touch the guy between his legs. But the second he said about getting over — EM took those hands and directed at his head. Now Morty was holding on tightly and commanded the rhythm. That was insanely hot inside, wet and soft. Every thrust felt like damn heaven. He got faster, pulling EM's hair aggressively as he chocked and whimpered.
EMs throat went numb and filled with hot. Legs shaked profusely and wet glossed over his crotch as Morty released him. He dropped his face onto Morty's thighs, so weak now... it's almost embarrassing.
"You did so good. Good boy EM." trying to catch his own breath, he pet the head and played with the soft hair. EM softly smiled, like a kitten. Morty bent down and united their lips lazily, with affection.