
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5214479.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Rick_Sanchez, Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez, Morty_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      rickmorty, C137cest, rickcest_-_Freeform, wubba_lubba_dub_sub, Sub!Rick,
      Dom!Rick, sub!morty, BDSM, Breathplay, Orgasm_Denial, Masochism
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-11-15 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 5368
****** Slutty-788 ******
by a_side_of_sin
Summary
     I hit the ground running with some rick!cest. C-137 doms the shit out
     of a subby Council Rick. Potential cliffhanger? Everybody sins.
***** Chapter 1 *****
*Pssshhhttttt* “S-788. Come in, S-788.” *Pssshhhhtttt*
*Psshhhtttt* “S-788. Your M-morty has returned from his mission. Report to the
anteroom on floor 13 to retrieve, to retrieve him.” *Pssshhhhttttt*
*Pssshhhhttt* “Calling S-788. Repeat, report to floor 13 to retrieve y-y-your
Morty.” *Pssshhhttttt*
S-788 continued to ignore his radio. It’s not like he had much of a choice. C-
137 had him handcuffed to a bedpost, and the radio was all the way across the
room. Meanwhile, C-137 was occupied with rimming S-788 until he screamed. He
licked around the Scout Rick’s quivering hole, and shoved his tongue in to get
him all wet inside. S-788’s thighs squeezed tight around his face as the radio
went off again, and the Scout groaned.
C-137 pulled back, causing S-788 to sigh at the loss, but quickly replaced his
mouth with two of his fingers. He didn’t bother to start with one, he knew that
Ricks liked for it to sting at first. He leered down at S-788. “Y-you like
that, Slutty-788? That’s w-what, that’s what the “S” stands foOURGHr, isn’t it?
You, you fucking slut.”
S-788 cried out as the other man’s fingers found his prostate. C-137 smirked.
“Do those fucking Council Ricks know w-what a sick freak you are, S-788? Hmmmm?
Do they know that when your MoOURGHrty is off on a mission, y-y-you sneak out
to get fucked to death by a rogue version of yourself? Does your M-m-morty,
does your Morty know you’re such a slut for your own dick?” C-137 added a third
finger, fucking roughly into the Scout.
S-788 could feel it, he was close. He squirmed, desperately trying to keep
himself from coming. He had heard that if C-137 didn’t come first, he wouldn’t
let a Council Rick visit again. And he was already hooked. He NEEDED this. He
knew he would need to come back. He squeezed his thighs around the other man’s
arm, trying to get the leverage to pull back from the man’s thrusts – not
enough to make him stop, just enough that he couldn’t quite reach that spot
inside him that was making tears slide down his face.
C-137 pulled his hand out, and shoved the three fingers he had just been
fucking the other man with into his mouth. “Clean them off, slut. I could feel
you tightURRRPPP, tightening up. Well, guess what, S-788? It’s. Not. Your.
Turn.” He tore his hand out of S-788’s mouth and slapped him. “You don’t come
uh-uh-unless I decide y-you can. Remember that.”
A whimper slipped out of S-788’s mouth. C-137 sneered at him. “God, look at
you, so fucking desperate for it. Tell me, tell me how much you w-w-want it, S-
788.” The Scout watched as the other man reached for a bottle of lube, trying
to form words to beg for relief. C-137 turned back and caught S-788 staring at
him. He tossed the lube on the bed, then slapped him again. He pushed S-788’s
face sideways into the pillow. “Quit fucking staring at me, Rick pig, and beg
for it, if you want it-URRRPPPP, if you want it so bad. If you don’t tell me w-
what you want, I might just have to keep, have to leave you here. Hmmm, maybe
I’ll go pick your Morty up, and I’ll have some fun with him, w-w-with the kid
instead.” C-137 slathered his throbbing dick with lube, then paused, waiting to
see if S-788 would be able to get it together.
Without picking his head up from the pillow, S-788 sobbed out a plea. “P-
please, C-137, please. Please f-f-fuck, fucking give it to me, please make me
come, please let me come. Oh my god, C-137, please, I need it.”
The other Rick thrust into him in one long stroke, and the Scout sighed with
relief. Once C-137 was seated inside his counterpart, he grabbed his face and
turned it away from the pillow. “Rick. You call me Rick. Dimension numbers are
for f-fucking Council sluts like you.” He slapped S-788 again, and he could
feel how the third blow affected the other man. His cock pulsed out slick onto
his abdomen, and C-137 could feel him tighten up around his dick. He pulled all
the way out, and looked down at the mess of a Scout.
S-788 let out a pathetic moan. The loss was almost too much for him. He
whimpered. “Please, Rick, p-p-please fuck me.” C-137 sneered again, and then
thrust back in so quickly that S-788 was shoved up against the bedpost. He set
up a punishing rhythm, sliding one hand up around S-788’s throat. He pressed
down on the other man’s airway, and felt him struggle to get the oxygen he
needed. He snickered as he watched the other man turn red.
“God, I could, I could w-watch you fucking Rick pigs choke forever. I could,
could let you pass ouURRGHHHt right now and just keep fucking you until you
woke up. W-would you like that, Slutty-788?” He eased his grip just a little,
and S-788 gasped. C-137 gave him only a second before pressing back down, and
he fucked into him even harder, torn between watching the man asphyxiate and
watching his dick slide in and out of his fucked out hole. A few more thrusts,
and C-137 pulled out and removed his hand from the other man’s throat to grab
his own cock. C-137 stroked himself once, twice, and then came all over the
Scout.
“Jesus, you Council Ricks are going to kill me o-one, one of these days.” C-137
lifted himself off the bed, stretched, and then grabbed the Scout’s regulation
jacket and used it to wipe his come off of S-788. When he was finished, he
stood and gathered up all of S-788’s clothes. To S-788’s surprise, C-137
dressed himself in the other man’s uniform, including the come-stained jacket.
Confused and still handcuffed to the bed, the Scout whined, desperate for
relief. “Rick, please, please…”
“Don’t worry, S-788. I’m not done with you yet. I’ll be right back. I’m just
going to go pick up your Morty. Then I’m going to bring him back here, and
we’ll have a little grandfather-grandson bonding time…”
S-788 whimpered as the radio went off again.
*Pssshhtttt* “S-788, where, where the fuck are you? Come get your fucking
Morty.” *Psshhhhhtttt*
C-137 let out a harsh laugh. He shot a portal into the wall, and then picked up
the radio. “Sorry, got caught up in something. Be right there.” He winked at S-
788, then stepped through the green membrane.
***** Bonding Time *****
Chapter Summary
     Literally one person on tumblr asked for a Part 2 and I was inspired.
     C-137 continues to dom the shit out of a subby Coucil Rick, and
     brings his Morty in on the action. Morty messes with his Rick, and C-
     137 is low-key sweet on Morty. Everybody sins.
*Psshhhttttt* “S-788, hur-hurry the hell up. Your M-morty’s getting whiny.”
*Pssshhhtttt*
C-137 spoke into the radio that he had taken from his counterpart. “Yeah, yeah,
I-I-I’m coming, be there in two minutes, I’m on flooUURGGGHHHr ten now.” A few
moments later, he stepped off the elevator onto floor thirteen and stalked down
the long hallway toward the anteroom. He pushed through the doors and strode
over to where a group of five Ricks was waiting, along with six Mortys. The
only Morty not shadowing a Rick threw himself at C-137, and pressed his lips to
the Rick’s.
Nice, C-137 thought to himself. It makes things a lot easier when they’re
already an intimate pair. He kissed the Morty back lightly, and set him gently
on the ground. The Morty had initially been enthusiastic, but when C-137 put
him on his feet, he looked at him with distrust.
“You, you, y-y-you aren’t my Rick.” It wasn’t a question.
“No, but shut up about it. If they find out, you-your R-rick is going to get
into trouble. He got a little tied up, so h-he, he asked me to come get
youUUURRPPPP. If you r-rat him out, he’ll get sewer duty for a month. Do you,
do you want your Rick to get s-s-sewer duty, Morty?” C-137 knelt down so he
could whisper it into the Morty’s ear.
The Morty shook his head. “Good boy. Now turn around, a-a-and tell them all
you’ll see them next time, y-yeah?” The Morty did as he was told, then placed
his hand in the Rick’s and followed him out of the anteroom. The little shit
had put up a pretty good front, but as soon as they were past the door and back
into the hallway, he yanked on the jacket Rick was wearing, causing him to
stumble backwards.
“Wh-wh-where the fuck is my Rick?” Morty demanded. C-137 stared at him for a
moment with ice in his gaze, then took off down the hall again. Morty trailed
after him, resigned to the fact that this Rick wasn’t going to answer him, but
knowing that the best option for now was to keep following him. This Rick had
his Rick’s ID and badge, otherwise they wouldn’t have let him pick Morty up, so
he knew something was up. He hurried to keep up with the long-legged older man.
The Rick stepped into the elevator, and Morty followed him. He pressed the
button for the parking garage, but as soon as the elevator started to move, he
hit the emergency stop and shot a portal into the wall. “C-c-come on,
MoURRGHHty, your Rick is w-waiting for us.” Morty didn’t hesitate to follow him
through.
They walked into what Morty was pretty sure was a rundown hotel bedroom,
although he supposed it could be in a house, too. To his shock, his Rick was
naked and hard, handcuffed to the bed, humming the Ramones and trying his best
to look unaffected. Morty ran to him, and quickly checked his body over for any
bruising or abrasions. Rick muttered something, and Morty leaned in closer so
he could hear him.
C-137 looked on with a smirk. The Scout was whispering to his grandson, clearly
trying to explain his way out of the situation. The Morty cut him off with an,
“Awww jeez, R-rick!” But to C-137’s surprise, it was followed by, “Y-y-you
couldn’t have w-wait, w-w-waited for us to come together? Dick.” S-788 did his
best to shrug, hampered by the handcuffs. “I h-had to make sure he was, that he
was safe for you, M-moURRGHHTty.”
“Jesus, R-rick, y-you’re an idiot sometimes.” The Morty turned to face C-137.
“So, you, y-you’re the rogue Rick everyone talks about. My Rick has been w-
wanting to visit you for a w-w-w, for a while now. He gets kinda, kinda kinky
sometimes.”
S-788 blushed, and C-137 snickered. “Y-y-yeah, he’s pretty kinky all right.
He’s downright slutty, d-don’t you think, Morty?” He directed his words to the
Morty, but looked at S-788 while he spoke. “You know, Slutty-788, you, y-you’ve
got a pretty smart Morty here. He, he knew right away that, that it w-w-wasn’t
youURRRPPP picking him up.”
The Scout attempted another shrug. “He’s OCD.” The Morty spun around to scowl
at S-788. “N-n-no I’m not! W-w-well, okay maybe a, maybe a little. But he
didn’t taste r-right. And he’s got the holster on wrong. It-it’s backwards.”
C-137 chuckled, and wrapped his arms around the Morty from behind. S-788 sucked
in a breath, and his dick twitched against his stomach, still erect from when
he left him fifteen minutes ago. C-137 spoke into the Morty’s ear, but with
enough volume that the handcuffed Scout could hear him, too. “Here, here’s the
deal, Morty. You-your granddad needs to come. That should be pretty obvious. H-
h-he behaved pretty well for me, b-but I’m not convinced he’s earned it. Y-you,
you could earn it for him, M-morty. Wh-what do you say? Be, be my little
fucktoy, and I’ll m-make sure grandpa gets off.”
Morty stiffened, and the Rick let go of him immediately, not realizing that the
reaction was one of interest, not fear or disgust. Morty turned once again,
this time facing the Rick, trying to let him see that he was fine. Still, the
Rick made a visible effort to pull himself out of his headspace for a minute,
and got down on one knee in front of Morty. “Morty, I w-won’t touch you, if
you, if you’re not into it. I’ll let youUURRRPPP, your Rick go right now, and
you can w-walk out of here, if that’s wh-what you want. You, you just gotta
tell me, M-morty.”
Morty looked over his shoulder at his Rick, who nodded to him, silently letting
him know that the decision was his. Then he looked back at the rogue Rick,
whose dimension number he didn’t even know, and felt himself warming up under
the man’s gaze. “O-okay, R-rick. I-I-I, I’m in, d-do your worst.” Morty
chuckled, knowing he might regret that last statement. “Uh, w-what do I call
you, uh, w-w-which Rick are you?”
The Rick growled and scooped him up, tossing him backwards onto the bed. He
landed perpendicular to his Rick, a few inches away from his Rick’s feet. The
other Rick loomed over him, staring down at Morty with his hands on either side
of the teen’s head. “Just Rick. Like, like I told you, y-y-your grandpa, M-
morty, dimension numbers are for Council sluts.” He leaned down and suckled on
Morty’s throat, then spoke into his ear. “A-are you a little slut, M-morty? A
little slut, j-just like your R-rick?”
The Morty whimpered. C-137 smirked down at him, then pulled back and quickly
stripped himself of the Scout’s uniform. He spoke to the Morty while he
undressed. “Y-y-your granddad’s uniform is, is filthy, MoURRGHHty. It, it’s
just covered in come. Such, such a mess. I-I-I would hate for anything to
happen, for anything to stain y-your uniform, M-morty. You, you’d better take
it off. Strip.”
C-137 spared a glance at S-788, and saw that the man was alight with
anticipation. Meanwhile, his Morty was carefully removing his clothing, and
folding it neatly into a pile. C-137 scoffed, reached for the pile, and dumped
it on a chair with most of the Scout’s stuff. The Morty made a quiet noise of
dissatisfaction, but otherwise said nothing. He stared up at C-137, and waited
for instructions.
“M-man, S-788, y-you, you really got a good one. Smart, f-follows directions,
kn-knows when to shut, when to keep his mouth shut. All right, a-a-all r-right,
M-morty. You, y-y-you’re a good kid, Morty. Gonna help y-your grandpa, a-aren’t
you?” The Morty nodded. C-137 pressed himself forward, surging toward the Morty
and pushing both hands up above his head. Holding them in place with one of his
hands, he kissed down the Morty’s neck, and mouthed along his collarbone. He
wrapped his lips around one tight, pink nipple, and the Morty whimpered. C-137
looked up at the kid, and pulled his hand away. “Keep ‘em, keep ‘em up there,
M-morty. Don’t, don’t m-move your hands. N-no touching, g-g-got it?”
The Morty looked like he was going to nod again, but appeared to think better
of it. He chose instead to murmur, “Yes, Rick.” C-137 went from slightly
aroused to fully hard in the span of those two words. He felt even more blood
rush to his cock when he heard S-788 let out a moan at the response. He was
starting to get a picture forming in his head. He bet that when the pair was
alone, S-788 was normally in his position, running the show. And now, his
counterpart was really getting off from being able to watch himself dominate
his Morty.
“Y-you like that, huh Slutty-788? Like w-watching your Morty take orURRGGHHders
from me? Like seeing someone st-st-, someone better t-take control of w-what
should be yours?” Morty watched his Rick flush scarlet at his counterpart’s
words, then murmur an echo of the last thing Morty had spoken. “Yes, Rick.”
“Fucking Council sluts. W-well, S-788, as you may have noticed, th-this isn’t
about you. So, so. Let’s keep you from being a distraction, hmm?” C-137 moved
away from the bed and dug through a duffle bag near the door, then returned
with a piece of black fabric. Morty stared as the Rick worked the blindfold
over his Rick’s eyes. When he had finished tying the fabric tightly around his
Rick’s head, the rogue took just a moment to suck a deep red mark into his
Rick’s collarbone. The sight was indeed distracting, and Morty didn’t realize
that he was breaking the first rule when he slipped a hand down to stroke
himself.
“Morty. Oh no, M-morty, did you, did you forget? I said no touching.” The Rick
had turned back to Morty after he finished with his grandfather and caught him
disobeying. The Rick grabbed his hand and yanked it off of his cock, slamming
it back above his head with the other. The man let out an exaggerated sigh.
“Well, Morty, I guess we, we’ll have to tie you up, s-same as grandpa. Turn
over, Morty.”
“Yes, Rick.” Morty realized he was in for it, and only hoped that if he obeyed
quickly, maybe the punishment wouldn’t get too out of control. “Get up on your
knees, and grab the bedpost with both hands,” the Rick ordered. Morty did as he
was told, and the Rick stood and dug around in his duffle bag again. This time,
he emerged with a fairly lengthy piece of synthetic rope, and proceeded to tie
Morty’s hands tightly to the bedpost. Morty automatically tested it, pulling
back a little, and accepting the fact that he wasn’t going anywhere for the
time being.
The Rick chuckled, and something about it made Morty uncomfortable. “Don’t
bother, Morty. I learned that knot on Flagionestes, used it to tie two
GroURRRPPP, Gromflamites to a goddamn explosive. They didn’t get away, so you
definitely won’t.” Morty shuddered at the thought. The Rick must’ve seen his
reaction and interpreted it correctly, because he ran his hand soothingly over
the small of Morty’s back. “Don’t worry M-morty, no te preocupes. You’ll be
fine.”
C-137 took a moment to be glad that he was such a control freak, because he
knew the sight in front of him would have had lesser men coming untouched. To
his left, S-788 was still handcuffed to the bedpost, and his blush stained all
the way down to his nipples. The man was blindfolded and all his muscles were
taut, like he was ready to spring off the bed any minute. His cock was an angry
red and he had a mess of pre-come all over his abdomen. C-137 figured if he
made him wait too much longer he would end up in the ranks of lesser men.
Meanwhile, to his right, the Morty was tied to the opposite bedpost from his
grandfather, and facing away from him. The Morty’s perky ass was out in the
air, and C-137 could see his chubby little dick hanging heavy and hard between
his legs. C-137 stood back for a moment to just admire his work, running a slow
hand up and down his own length.
“Mmmm, I-I like this. A slutty pair, tied up together. It-it’s perfect, y-you,
you’re both so hot and neither of you gets to enjoy the view. Almost makes me
w-wish I had a camera on me. Oh well. A-anyway. Are you both ready? Both, both
enjoying the suspense?”
The answer came back in stereo: “Yes, Rick.” C-137 shivered, pleased with how
well this was turning out. “OoooUURRGHHHkay then. M-morty, I’m going to spank
you.” He paused to watch the Morty tense up. “I think one for every second you
were touching yourself w-when you thought I wasn’t looking. Let’s say 20. And
you, Slutty-788. Listen closely. Because e-every time I smack y-y-your Morty, I
want you to count it off. Don’t miss any, Rick pig. If you do, I’ll start
over.”
S-788 groaned, and his Morty whimpered. C-137 moved around to the other side of
the bed, and climbed up behind the Morty. He smoothed a hand down the Morty’s
side, and massaged lightly at one firm cheek, before delivering a swift,
stinging stroke. From a few feet behind him, he heard a breathy, “One…” The
Morty gasped, but otherwise made no protest. C-137 moved his hand to the other
cheek, exploring the crease where his ass met his thigh, before withdrawing for
another harsh crack. He didn’t have to wait for the “Two…” that his counterpart
groaned out. He delivered three, four, and five in rapid succession, leaving a
little trail of handprints across the Morty’s backside. He drew a whine from
the Morty, then paused for S-788’s huffed, “Threefourfive.”
The Rick fell into a rhythm for the next six, and by the time he got to number
twelve, Morty realized he was sniffling. His ass felt like it had been singed,
and he knew he still had almost half to go. But he could hear his Rick moaning,
calling the numbers out now like some sort of cold, mathematical worship, and
he knew he would hold out to the end. Not for this other Rick, but because his
Rick wanted him to.
The twelfth slap knocked Morty forward, and he had to use his leverage from the
bedpost to push himself back up onto his knees. He heard the other Rick groan,
but missed his Rick breathing out a “Twelve…” The pause of the aftershock
stretched out a little too long, and Morty realized his Rick had actually
missed it, and braced himself for the barrage of slaps that he knew were
coming. Then, from somewhere behind him, he heard a Rick mumble “TwelveURRPPP…”
Morty wasn’t sure which Rick it was, but he was grateful either way.
Slaps number thirteen through eighteen formed a circle around his ass, with a
finger reaching a little closer to his hole on each of them. He heard the Rick
spit on his fingers, and a warm wetness traced around his entrance, before
pulling away as a silent announcement for the penultimate smack. The crack of
the Rick’s hand seemed to echo in the room and his Rick practically screamed
out, “NINETEEN…”
Morty could feel the Rick shifting on the bed, and the felt warm breath tease
out over his backside as the Rick mouthed soft kisses into his tender flesh.
Without removing his mouth from Morty’s skin, the Rick brought his hand down
one final time in what was more of a caress than a slap, but thank goodness his
Rick heard the skin connect and choked on, “Tw-tw-tw-tw-twenty.”
C-137 was almost awestruck by how well the Morty had done. Sure, there were
tears streaming down his face, and he was letting out these pathetic little
cries, but C-137 was pretty sure that he hadn’t noticed he was doing either. He
moved quickly off the bed to untie the Morty’s hands, then lifted the kid
gently and spread him out parallel to his grandfather. The Morty might have
been shaking a little, but his cock was straining between his legs, flushed a
red so deep it was almost purple, matching his grandfather next to him.
Reaching to run his hand through the Morty’s curls, he whispered praise into
the Morty’s ear. “G-god Morty, look at you, you did so good for me, Morty.
Whatever you want, M-morty, you can come hoUURRGGHHwever you want, y-y-you
earned it you little piece of shit.”
The Morty gave him an undeniable smirk. “P-please fuck me, Rick. P-please fuck
me, and m-make m-my Rick watch. He, h-he came here without me, so, so, s-so m-
make me come without him. Please, please Rick.” C-137 couldn’t hold back a
groan, the kid had managed to lace his voice with so much sin, it was all he
could do to not throw himself at him. Instead, he moved around to remove the
blindfold from S-788. The Scout blinked at the light, and C-137 could see that
there were tear tracks on his face to match his grandson’s. “Y-you hear that,
Slutty-788? The kid wants you to, wants you to watch me fuck h-him. S-so. I’m
going to let you up, and I-I want you to go sit in the chair. Y-you can touch
yourself, but if you come, you don’t come back. Got it?”
“Yes, Rick.” S-788 stumbled over to the chair and practically fell into it,
feet spread apart and one hand already on his dick. He started not so much
stroking it as kneading it, desperate for any kind of friction but careful not
to lose it. C-137 shot him a silent challenge, a reminder to be good like his
Morty had been. Then, he finally turned his attention to the kid laid out in
front of him. “Jesus, jeez M-morty, so beautiful for me, laid out like this.
Pull, pull youURRRRGGHHHr knees up, cariño.” Rick in turn positioned himself
between the Morty’s legs, and let him rest both feet on his shoulders. He
nuzzled down between his thighs and tongued open-mouthed at his entrance. “F-
fuck M-morty, taste so good.”
Morty let out a wanton groan when he felt the Rick’s tongue slip inside him. He
knew he wouldn’t need much, maybe not even a finger, before he was coming all
over himself. “Rick, R-rick, it, it-it’s too much. Rick, let me come from just
your mouth, Rick, please.” The Rick hummed, and to clarify his assent he
reached up and wrapped one hand around Morty’s dick. That by itself was nearly
enough to push Morty over the edge, and he cried out. “Rrriicckkkkkk!!!!”
He could feel the Rick laugh between his legs, and then without warning, he
began thrusting his tongue as far as he could into Morty. The man must’ve had
some sort of record-setting tongue length, because Morty didn’t think anyone
had ever managed to lick his prostate before, but here he was. One, two licks
and he was gone. He could feel hot stickiness land on his chest, and knew some
of it had dripped down over the Rick’s hand. He let out a long breath, a sigh
that communicated a deep satisfaction to everyone in the room. “Th-thank you,
Rick.”
“So, so good for me, Morty. So good for your old grandpa. W-what do you say, M-
morty? Should we let him come?” Morty nodded, having forgotten that his Rick
was across the room, permitted to touch himself but forbidden from finding any
relief. C-137 barked an order at the man. “S-788, get over here and help your
Morty clean up.”
C-137 leered openly at the other man as he threw himself at the bed. He eagerly
set to lapping all of the come from his Morty’s chest, before pressing a quick
kiss to the kid’s lips. The Morty rolled over onto his side and propped his
head up on his hand, seemingly ready to enjoy the show. “Enough sappy shit,
CouURRRPP, Council slut. Get my hand clean, and then I’m going to destroy your
ass.” S-788 had no problem eagerly sucking the come from each of C-137s
fingers, making sure to lick between each digit for any that he had missed.
“Such, such a fucking come slut, S-788. Don’t w-worry, I’ve got more for you.
G-get on your back, bitch.” C-137 reached for the lube, abandoned what seemed
like hours ago on the bedside table. He trickled a little out into his hand,
but then seemed to think better of it. “Hmmm, bet your whoURRRPPPre ass is
still stretched out from earlier.” He didn’t bother with any prep at all before
shoving three fingers into S-788, who hissed, but was grateful to find that C-
137 was mostly right. C-137 heard a sharp intake of breath from the Morty, but
waved a hand in his direction to let him know that everything was fine. He gave
the other man a few slow thrusts before working to build up a rhythm, long
scrapes over his prostate on every other drag. S-788 was making the most
beautiful noises, a goddamn symphony of whimpers, moans, begging and
“oohhhhhhhh”s.
Morty didn’t need to be touching his grandfather to know that he was close. He
figured the other Rick must know it too, because he withdrew his hand and
slathered the remaining lube on his cock. The Rick lined up and pushed into his
grandfather in one long shove, drawing an unearthly cry from S-788, something
Morty had never heard before out of the man. C-137 looked exceedingly pleased
with himself, sneering at S-788 from above him and using his weight to press
both the Scout’s arms into the mattress.
“Even you, y-y-your Morty looked surprised at that one, Slutty-788. Y-you, you,
you’re dying for it, aren’t you? You’ve been begging, sobbing for it for the
last five minutes. Let’s make it another five, and then you can come. M-morty.
T-time your grandpa for me.” Morty rolled his eyes, but reached over and
grabbed the dingy clock on the windowsill. It was one of those simple clock
radios, so he swiftly set an alarm for five minutes from then.
C-137 didn’t wait for the Morty before dragging his cock torturously slowly out
of the other man, and then slamming back into him. He repeated the process,
slow, steady drag out, hard thrust back in. He could feel S-788 shiver on every
stroke, and noticed that the man was being shoved a half inch up the bed each
time he rocked into him. He wondered if he could plow him into the headboard
before his time was up.
C-137’s patience was wearing thin, and he reached under the Scout to pull one
of his legs up to wrap around his waist. Holding the other man’s leg with one
arm and using the other for leverage on the bed, he started to fuck into the
man for real. He could feel the man contracting around his dick, desperately
trying not to come, and C-137 thought it was probably one of the best things he
had ever felt. He shoved harder into S-788, living for the chorus of “Ahhh!”s
and “Oh, oh fuck”s and “Oh my god, RRICCKKKK PLEASE!!”s that were falling out
of the Scout’s mouth. He heard the telltale clunk of a skull hitting a
headboard, then a sharp beep, swiftly silenced, and Morty’s voice: “Come,
grandpa Rick.”
Both men responded to the teenager’s voice like they had been conditioned to it
since birth. S-788 seized up, muscles contracting, and came untouched. He shot
so hard that a bit landed in one of his eyebrows. C-137 could hear Morty
giggling in the background as he emptied himself into the Council Rick,
smirking at the thought of having defiled another good little soldier. Mmmm…
make that two, he thought, grinning over at Morty.
He eased out of the other man, and ran his hand between his legs to feel the
come that was already starting to drip out of him. He swiped his fingers
through it, then held it up for the Scout to taste. The man was clearly
exhausted, but didn’t hesitate to take C-137’s fingers in his mouth one last
time. When he had licked up the last traces of the other man, he leaned back
and closed his eyes, and was quickly lost to the world.
Satisfied, C-137 groaned as he pushed himself off the bed, and made for the
pile of clothes. It was easy to pick his outfit out of the mess. Shit, it
always was with these fucking Council Ricks. He dressed quickly, stopping only
to clean his dick off a bit on S-788’s jacket. He could see the Morty grimacing
out of the corner of his eye, but the Scout was too fucked out to notice.
Morty watched as the Rick shot a portal into the wall. The man turned back and
looked at the pair with a wicked glint in his eyes. “M-morty. Wh-when your
granddad wakes up, t-tell him, tell that slut h-h-he passed. Then have him call
me the next time you’re free. But only when you, you, y-y-you both have a day
oUURRRGGGHHHHff.”
Morty giggled as he watched the rogue step through the portal.
*Pssshhhtttt* “S-788, come in S-788. Control checked some security footage and
saw it wasn’t you that picked up your Morty. Hair didn’t match.” *Pssshhhtttt*
*Pssshhhtttt* “S-788, repeat, your, your Morty may be missing. Report
immediately.” *Pssshtttt*
Morty grabbed the radio, as his grandfather was still coming to. “Cancel that.
I’m with my grandpa. We’re good.”
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