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“Oh man, th-that’s sick,” Morty said, watching Rick grind the alien horn into a fine, chalky powder.
“Morty, the thing this belonged to tried to eat you. Take pleasure in its mutilation. D-don’t let that butter burn.” Morty moved the wooden spoon in the shallow pan of simmering butter, and Rick lifted his bowl of ground horn over it. “You know what this stuff is gonna do when it’s done?” Rick said, pouring the powder into the butter for Morty to mix.
“What? Is it, like, it gets you high or something?”
“It’s the kind of high, Morty. Clearly you have a very limited grasp on what can be done with a bag of brownie mix. This is Munlockus horn. This stuff makes the most impotent dick reach to the damn sky like it’s having a religious experience. Eat this, and we’re talkin’- i-it’s like ecstasy and pop rocks fucking in cola. It makes pussies ache for a pounding. Hear me?”
“So it makes you horny?” Morty didn’t sound too impressed. Lots of things made people horny.
“Exactly. But it tastes like shit so you bake it into brownies or cookies and sell it to idiots who don’t know how to grind a Munlockus horn without leaving jagged bits. Last thing you want is to change positions a-and have a piece pierce through your stomach but be too horny to stop fucking before you bleed out from the inside.”
Morty grabbed at his stomach. “Ow, jeez. I can’t imagine being so horny that you… y-you don’t stop for something like that.”
“Y-yeah what-uuurp-ever, Morty. I’ll remind you of that next time you’re whining about ass pain cause you rushed me along the night before.”
Morty harrumphed and watched Rick mix the laced butter into the brownie mix bowl. He stirred and lifted the wooden spoon to his mouth, giving it a lick and grimacing, smacking his lips. “Yeah. That’s gross. That’s why you gotta stir it for a few hours.”
“Is it OK for you to eat that? I mean, i-if it’s as strong as you say it is.”
“Morty trust me, it’d take a lot more than a little lick to rev my engine. I’m gonna leave this mixing in the garage.”
As Rick lifted the bowl, Summer leaned in through the kitchen doorway, folding her arms over the counter. “If you two don’t hurry it up, we’re taking off without you.”
“Oh, a real shame,” Rick said, rolling his eyes.
“Come on. Don’t be a killjoy,” Summer said. “Have normal person fun for one night.”
It was early evening when the family piled into Beth’s car, sans Jerry who had a job interview out of town in the morning and was staying at an inn for the night. Beth and Summer were excited to use his absence as a chance for a night out to the theater for a movie they wanted to see. Some zombie action thriller based on some show with some guy Summer had the hots for. Rick folded into the back seat beside Morty, knocking the back of the passenger seat with his knees until an annoyed Summer scooted it forward.
“We could just take my ship.”
“Yeah but,” Beth hummed with a whimsy that was rare but pleasant, “I thought we’d try the normal family convention tonight.” They pulled out of the driveway.
“Funny how you wait till Jerry’s out of the picture before you feel so inclined. Not exactly, you know, nuclear. Not so normal or conventional.”
Beth and Summer shared an annoyed, disapproving, “Dad,” and “Grandpa.”
“Hey, I never said it was a bad thing, did I? N-nuclear families are for… f-for commercials and cookie-cutter sitcoms. A little weirdness in the family is more exciting, right Morty?”
When Rick clamped a large hand on his knee, Morty’s eyes widened. If he was implying anything about their relationship, Morty wasn’t going to acknowledge it in front of his mom or sister. Putting on a smile, he said, “Uh, yeah. You know, yy-unique is good.” Looking back to Rick, he saw his grandfather giving him a dangerously warm smile, bedroom eyes all aglow as his hand found its way up Morty’s thigh. Throwing a glance to the front to make sure neither Beth nor Summer was looking, Morty scowled and pushed Rick’s hand away. It wasn’t too often when Rick chanced anything around the family, but when he did, it pissed Morty off.
Not a minute after Morty tossed his hand away, Rick walked it back across the middle seat to scratch at Morty’s jeans at his butt. This time when Morty grabbed Rick’s wrist, Rick twisted and pushed until he managed to cram his fingers between Morty’s, holding him tightly. Morty gave him a wide-eyed glare that screamed, “What the hell are you doing?” but Rick’s dreamy smirk in return only said, “Yeah, you want me, don’t you baby?” which no, he didn’t.
The moment that Summer reached over and turned on the radio, blasting out some techno pop mix, Morty leaned to Rick and said, “Will you quit with the p-poking and prodding in front of Mom and Summer?”
Rick leaned in close to Morty’s ear and replied, “We’re behind them, Morty. Not in front.” His hand trailed up Morty’s side, pushing his shirt up as fingers danced on hot skin. At the same time, his tongue darted out and lapped right into Morty’s ear canal, causing goosebumps to speckle under Rick’s touch and Morty to bolt upright.
Beth lowered the volume to something more reasonable and peeked at the duo in the rear view mirror. “What are you two talking about?”
“Nothing!” Morty squeaked, and Beth looked to Rick, who crossed his arms and shrugged.
“Apparently nothing.”
Beth frowned, returning her focus to the road and turning the radio up a touch.
Getting out of the car in the parking lot, Rick quickly rounded to Morty’s side to hold his door for him. When Morty stood up, Beth and Summer chatting their high expectations for the film in front of the car, Rick grabbed Morty by the hips and shoved his crotch to the boy’s ass. Morty grunted, pulling away and quickly making his way to the others’ fields of view. He was annoyed, but he also now had reason to be concerned, for he could feel a definite hardness when Rick pressed against him, and perhaps it was a little slow on his part that Morty was only now realizing what Rick’s problem was.
When the four entered the theater room, they found the open seats to be sparse. “See any four together?” Beth asked, disappointment growing at this challenge to her family outing.
“Here we go,” Rick said, grabbing Morty’s upper arm and pulling him along as he led the others to some open seats at the right of the wheelchair accessible gaps. His movements were quick and jerky, and he spoke rapidly. “Y-you two sit up there, and me and Morty will sit down here.”
As Rick said his name, he slapped a palm over Morty’s chest, dragging across his nipple. Morty did his best to not react, but he could feel the sweat building on his face and underarms. Pacified by this arrangement, Beth and Summer took the seats a step up and directly behind theirs.
Rick and Morty plopped down in their large, cushy seats, Morty to the right of Rick. Morty whispered harshly, “I thought you said you weren’t affected by that stuff.”
As Rick spoke, his voice had an odd waver to it, and his hand absently wandered to Morty’s lap. “Yeah, I might have overestimated my tolerance there. I-it’s been a long time since I’ve taken it.” His hand shivered as it groped at Morty’s fly. Morty grabbed Rick’s hand and sat it emphatically on Rick’s own lap, then watched Rick palm at his own groin with a light groan.
The moment Summer stood to ask who would help her carry snacks, Morty stood to volunteer. Rick declined any offer, but when Morty returned with a drink for himself and a large popcorn, he shoved the popcorn into Rick’s hands. “Keep your hands busy with that,” he said as he sat.
The previews played as Rick pushed up the armrest between them and propped the popcorn bag over the tiny gap that separated the backs of their seats. Then he grabbed Morty’s thigh with a little more force than before as he scooted himself closer.
Morty bobbed his knee rapidly. “Why w-would you make us sit in front of them if you were gonna be like this?”
“Look Morty. Y-your scalp barely goes over the backs of these big ass seats. They can’t see us. If they were in front and for whatever reason decided to turn around, we’d be screwed.” Rick took a deep breath and nearly growled on the release of it. “There’s nothing but empty handicap zones beside me, and no one person is gonna take the seat beside you.” He grabbed at Morty’s fly. “We can do w-whatever we want, baby.”
“I don’t want to do anything in a full theater with my m-mom and sister behind us,” he hissed. “Knock it off.” He leaned away and bent to suck from his straw, leaving the cup in the holder while he did so.
The lights dimmed to near blackness as the movie started, and Rick leaned over to speak in Morty’s ear. “Mm, you should be doing that to my dick.” He moaned. “I need it.”
“Rick,” Morty warned.
“I mean it. See?”
Rick sat up and took Morty’s hand, placing it on his crotch. Morty could feel the rock hard erection beneath the material, and at his touch, Rick lifted his hips and desperately rutted against Morty’s hand. “Fuck, Morty,” he whispered, then hissed air through his gritted teeth. “It hurts.” He pulled Morty’s hand passed his belt buckle, showing him the little gap where his cock was lifting his pants away from his tense belly. “I need you.”
Morty dipped nervous fingers into Rick’s pants, his fingertips brushing the tip of Rick’s dick where it poked out from his underwear. Morty’s face heated, and his own member stirred. But where they were right now, floors sticky beneath their feet, salt and butter wafting in the cool air, the walls rumbling with the over-loud action on the big screen, wouldn’t give Morty peace. “I dunno, Rick. W-we’re in public.”
“Wanna go to the bathroom?” Rick asked, his voice frantic and desperate in a way that worried Morty. But Morty already found the idea of the theater’s not-so-clean bathrooms unsettling, and that paired with not wanting to have to explain why he and Rick needed to go to the bathroom at the same time led Morty to shake his head.
“It’s dark in here,” Morty whispered, leaning a little closer to Rick as his eyes scanned the preoccupied patrons. “And l-loud.”
Rick groaned again. “I’m so fucking hard, Morty. My skin is o-o-on fire.” He pulled his shirt out of his pants and pushed it up past his belly, rubbing to sooth his clenching muscles there. He leaned his head back and breathed, and Morty could see the discomfort contorting his face. It was concerning, but he found himself growing aroused at the sight. He had all the power to simply leave Rick like this, aching through a two and a half hour movie. It would serve him right, and that idea was very erotic to Morty. So erotic that he knew he couldn’t go through with it. Still, as he reached for Rick’s belt, placing little fingers at the buckle, he teased.
“I could just leave you like this. F-for the whole movie.”
Rick’s glazed eyes turned to Morty, his brow knitted. He whimpered, then gritted his teeth and gave Morty his best condescending smirk. “Ch-choke on my dick, you little asshole.”
Morty removed his fingers. “Maybe later.”
“Oh fuck you, you l-little tease.” Rick panted, hooking stiff fingers behind Morty’s neck and raking at his hairline. He loved stroking Morty’s hair. Wrapping his fingers in his curls. His hips rose and fell as he stroked.
“Why don’t you jerk yourself off if you’re s-so desperate?” Morty wasn’t used to speaking to Rick with such control and command, and this experience might have been making his heart pound harder than even their public setting. But Rick huffed, quickly using his one free hand to tug his belt open and unbutton his pants, shoving them down enough to free his hard, veiny member lying rigid over his lower belly. The hand he had on the back of Morty’s neck grasped the back of his head, pulling him and forcing him down. Morty tried to resist, but ultimately he allowed the hand to shove his face down. The musky odor filled him as Rick forcibly shoved Morty’s mouth and nose roughly against the underside of his dick. Morty scrambled his hands to Rick’s leg for leverage, turning over and sliding down from his seat so that it was his elbow and Rick’s thigh keeping it from springing closed. He managed to open his mouth, giving the prick a sloppy lick.
Rick’s grip softened, both hands massaging Morty’s scalp as the boy ran long, slobbery licks with sideways sweeping motions up and down Rick’s aching member. Rick rolled his head with a deep sigh that Morty could feel from the belly beside his ear. Even these little touches were to Rick like water after a marathon. With more composure now, Morty wrapped a hand around Rick’s dick, raising it and sliding his tight, wet lips over the head. He rolled his tongue and suckled the soft head before taking more into his mouth. A spasm shook Rick’s body, and he shoved deep into Morty’s mouth, causing the boy to gag. Morty backed off, licking circles under the head until a grin interrupted his technique, so he stuck his tongue out, tip to slit, and turned his head to smile up at Rick. Rick returned it with a weak grin, his eyes doing a long roll to express his relief. But a little licking wasn’t what he needed, so he grabbed two fistfuls of Morty’s hair and bucked up at him.
Morty closed his eyes and slid his mouth down, taking Rick in, his fist gripping what his mouth couldn’t yet handle. Saliva soaked down and between each finger. Mouth and palm pumped, and Rick already felt fireworks igniting in his stomach and groin. His body shivered and shook, and he was quickly gasping deep and dizzying lungfuls of salty, buttery air. The mushroom cloud explosions on the big screen were nothing compared to the waves and waves of euphoria that were sweeping Rick away and surely dragging him to a void as his good, good Morty was bobbing away. He was going to lose his mind in this private, public place. Who needed a cursed microscope when you had a Morty?
The hand that Morty kept braced on Rick’s thigh curled into a fist, his thumb gripped by his fingers, and he pushed his mouth down until his lips closed tight against his hand. Then, taking a deep breath, Morty let his hand slide down, his tight lips following after. Rick watched with wide-eyes that squinted as his mouth gaped. The tight, hot pressure of Morty’s throat rolling over his cock was incredible. One of the hands in Morty’s hair shot down to grip his shoulder. Rick wanted to stroke Morty’s back in congratulations and thanks for his glorious gift, but all Rick could manage was a painful, shaking grip as his hips stuttered up to chase after the retreating deepthroat.
Tears streamed down Morty’s cheeks and out his nostrils, but with another deep breath and a clench of his fist, he pushed down once more. Rick’s knees bobbed, and were it not for the sound of the movie, the sound of his heels hitting the floor over and over again would bounce off every wall in the room. The hand he had in Morty’s hair uncurled and gave heavy, dragging pets as Rick rocked his hips. Morty pulled up, drawing tight and sandwiching Rick between his long tongue and the wonderful ridges of the roof of his mouth. A quick, breathy, “Ahh,” spilled its way out of Rick’s throat, and Morty’s body blazed at the sound of it. Loud enough to surely be noticed, but quiet enough to be dismissed as easily as a cough. It felt amazing, and in an instant, Rick knew he couldn’t let Morty pull up any further.
Rick planted both hands on the back of Morty’s head once more, holding him down as he unloaded at the entrance of the boy’s unprepared throat. Morty gagged at the hot spunk that filled his mouth and overflowed from his lips. He quickly swallowed what he could to keep from choking further, his throat working fast and desperate as Rick held him in place through his powerful aftershocks.
Morty’s lack of resistance – no – his abundance of dedication shook Rick to the core, and as Rick came down, head leaned back against the seat, he stroked the backs of his weakened fingers against Morty’s cheek. He could feel the tears of his effort, and when Morty rose up, Rick could see even in the dark room what a mess he was. Morty panted quietly, wiping his slick, swollen lips. Rick cupped his cheek, and Morty leaned into the large hand.
“Shit, Morty,” Rick whispered, putting himself away while Morty sneakily slipped back up into his seat. “Y-you’ve been holdin’ out on me.”
Morty chuckled, wiping his face with his shirt. He picked up the bag of popcorn and leaned into Rick. “I think y-you were just so horny anything would have felt good.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Listen to me, Morty. Don’t sell yourself short. Drugs or no, not just anyone n-nearly knocks me into a cum coma.”
Morty turned his head down and smiled to himself. Rick’s post-orgasm words were always his favorite, but he knew what he did for Rick was nothing compared to what Rick could do to him. Which sparked an exciting thought, and Morty turned his head up to whisper to Rick again. “I wouldn’t mind trying... o-one of those brownies when they’re done.”
A grin stretched on Rick’s sleepy face, and he looked at Morty. “Dawg, you know you earned the whole damn batch with that shit.”
“Just don’t let me… you know, bleed out.”
Rick pressed a kiss to the top of Morty’s head. “Never.”