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Summary
He looked at…Morty, who had bent down to pull up his pants. He was soaked, whitish drops dripped from his brown hair, running down his round face, the baby fat still present in his cheeks. A late bloomer? As he pulled his pants up, he noticed that even his thighs, exposed by his short white underwear, were damp. Soon, everything would be sticky
He seemed to want to avoid his gaze, but when he raised his head, their blue eyes met for the first time. “My name- my name is Morty.”
“Rick.”