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Rick’s driving smoother was than usual on the way back. Not even a complaint when Morty fiddled with the radio dials and the car speaks stuttered with static amongst aimless song lyrics. And when Morty glanced at his grandfather with concern he could swear that Rick’s eyes appeared glassed over, his pupils shaking aimlessly in place. Morty’s gaze shifted to the floor as he clumsily turned the radio off. He exhaled through his nose gently, but it seemed to echo inside the dome of the cruiser.
Morty picked at the fraying cotton of his shirt sleeve. A crust of dried blood clinging to the edges of the hole. He’d forgotten to change the shirts back. Now his evil, alternate universe self had his favourite shirt while he was stuck with… Well, his favourite shirt. Albeit a blood-stained version with a bullet hole in the sleeve. He could just ask his mum or Summer to drive him to the store. A plain yellow t-shirt wasn’t exactly the hardest thing to come by while shopping at the mall. It didn’t seem right though, there were memories woven into that shirt. Into his shirt. His heart sunk at the realisation. He was never getting his shirt back. Mortimer had disappeared to somewhere beyond the boundaries of the curve and taken his shirt with him.
Turning to the side, he pressed his face against the glass dejectedly and closed his eyes, his breath gradually turning shallow and paced.
~
Mortimer kicked off his shoes as he stepped out of the portal.
“How were the horrors of the infinite today, sir?” Asked his robot butler.
“I finally managed to take the metaphorical shotgun off the monkey who wouldn’t stop humping it.” Chuckled Mortimer, lying down on the beach chair and holding out his hand expectedly. “I even got to watch a cage fight between said monkey and another monkey. It was quite a mess, thankfully I’m not the one who needs to clean that cage. Actually, I don’t think anyone needs to clean that cage, and by cage I mean base, and by base I mean I blew it up.”
“Excellent sir.” Said the robot, placing a filled glass into Mortimer’s awaiting hand.
“Speaking of cleaning, you might want to get started on the laundry. I have a fresh batch of it after dealing with those two.”
“At once sir.”
After taking a prolonged sip from the glass Mortimer pinched his sleeve to examine the damage. A faint red freckled outwards from the seam, but there was a very clear, distinct lack of a hole.
“God fucking dammit.”
~
Morty stretched out his aims before falling face first into his bed defeatedly. Rick had been holed up in his basement since the drive home while his dad was out exploring the galaxy with both of his mums. Summer was out shopping with her friends, for clothes allegedly, but how his sister was spending her money these days was of little interest to him. Lazily rolling onto his side he arched his head upwards to stare at his laptop on his bedside table. An afternoon like this would normally be filled with carefully curated alone time, but in light of recent events such things seemed distasteful.
Rolling over onto his back, he winced as the sun shone, almost offensively into his half-open eyes. He pulled the shirt up, past his chin and over his eyes and breathed in meditatively. Immediately his nose was caressed with the scent of smoke. Half-opening his eyes he looked at the shirt lazily. He ran his hand over the translucent yellow fabric before crumpling it slight and inhaling once more. Deliberate this time, deep and slow. Once again, he was embraced by campfire-like warmth. Heat rushed to his cheeks as the image of a smug, eyepatch-wearing boy appeared in his mind.
His eyes flung open. He technical wasn’t doing anything wrong, but he seemed way too exposed for his liking. Morty scanned the room, before running over to the window and pulling it closed, holding it up with the tips of his fingers before slowly withdrawing them so it shut with a faint tap. He then tiptoed to the door and swiftly flicked the lock. Turning back to the window, he moved towards it before pausing and taking a moment to check the lock once more. Tiptoeing back to the window he drew the blinds close, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste. Falling back onto his bed, slipped under his blanket and held the shirt to his face once more. Closing his eyes, he clung to the crumpled shirt and inhaled softly.
“Excuse me, but what in the ever loving fuck are you doing?”
Morty froze under the sheets.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Fuck. It was Evil Morty. Maybe if he screamed loud enough Rick would hear him and come running up from the basement to help him. Although, given the situation perhaps being shot by an evil version of himself would be preferable. Inhaling deeply and clenching his teeth in a desperate attempt to suppress his trembling, he wrapped his fingers around the edge of his blanket and meekly poked his head out.
Evil Morty was just about as pissed as Morty imagined he’d be, perhaps even slightly more.
“I can... I can explain.”
“I leave you with my shirt for maybe 12 hours and you decided to wear it while jerking off?”
“I... I wasn’t jerking off I swear.”
“Come on man we’re both 16. Why the hell else would you be in bed at this time of day under a blanket?” Groaned Mortimer. “You could have at least taken it off.”
“Look... Look man I’m not jerking off I swear, I still have my pants on.”
“You were about to start then.”
“No I... No I wasn’t.”
Morty gulped as the other boy’s glare intensified. His stomach sank as he saw the boy raise his right hand to his temple and the eyepatch powered on. Maybe he’d be spared if he just flung off his jeans and played along with the jerking off accusations. After all it’d be a lot easier to explain than what was actually doing with the other boy’s shirt.
“Damn, you weren’t lying.”
Morty was immediately dragged away from his thoughts by Mortimer’s statement.
“Huh?”
“Well for the first time in Rick-worshipping Morty history I seem to be incorrect about something.”
“Hey... Hey look man you were wrong about Prime’s decoy. Also, what are you talking about?”
“I have a collection of scanners built into the eyepatch, you haven’t touched your zipper in at least 2 hours and the brain scan didn’t bring up future intention to.”
“You scanned... You scanned my brain to see if I was jerking off instead of just believing me like a normal person?”
“To see if you were intending to jerk off while wearing my shirt.” Corrected Mortimer. “Can never be too careful. I’ve gotta ask though, what’s with all the future intentions to snort it like a line at The Creepy Morty?
“Uh geez man, it just... It just smells nice you know?”
“Wait wait wait. You think I smell nice?” Asked Mortimer, raising an eyebrow.
“Well your shirt yeah. I mean it smells pretty good…”
Mortimer rolled his eyes while Morty continued to ramble about the smell of ash before apprehensively sniffing the shirt he was wearing. A wave of warmth washed over him along with the scent of fresh pancakes. His scowl softened. He approached Morty’s bed and seated himself on the edge.
“Smell it.” He ordered.
Morty looked up at him, still trembling slightly as he inched his face towards his own shirt.
“Well?” Asked Mortimer, looking at him expectingly.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“I mean I guess it smells like the laundry detergent my mum uses but like that’s about it I guess.”
“Let me smell mine.”
“Um oh geez okay…”
Mortimer turned to face Morty, he placed both of his hands on the boy’s shoulders to steady himself before he swung his left leg over the boy’s knees, straddling him. He leaned in, pinching the fabric of his shirt between his fingers before inhaling gently. Once again, he was met with the sweet scent of pancakes.
“My shirt smells like pancakes for your information. Where did this nonsense about smoke come from?”
Withdrawing his face from Morty’s chest, Mortimer stared with his uncovered eye. A faint blush now painted the meek boy’s face as he shivered, his eyes wide. Unphased by Morty’s evident embarrassment, Mortimer stroked the boy’s cheek with the back of his right hand before gently turning it to the right with the knuckles of his index finger. Lowering his face until it was inches from Morty’s he inhaled. Pancakes. Withdrawing once more, he stared down at Morty who stared back, his eyes still wide and his blush now more pronounced.
“Smell me.”
“W-what?”
Mortimer once again lowered himself onto the boy, this time holding his head to the side, offering his exposed neck.
“Smell me.”
Morty stared back at him blankly, before obliging timidly.
“Let me guess, I smell like smoke.”
“Y-yeah…”
“Mystery solved, you’re welcome.” Said Mortimer, shrugging as raised himself onto his knees before turning around and sitting on the end of Morty’s bed. “Can I have my shirt back now?”
“Uh... Uh yeah sure.” Said Morty, pulling the shirt he was wearing over his shoulder before wrestling it over and off his head.
He stared at Mortimer who seamlessly removed his yellow t-shirt, before his gaze wandered to the boy’s exposed shoulders. Even though the boy had a face that mirrored his own, the same could not be said for his physique. It had been two years since Mortimer had run for office, back when they were both just awkwardly lanky teenagers. Morty raised the blanket up over his exposed torso as the list of physical differences continued to grow in his mind.
“Your shirt.”
Morty’s attention snapped back to the boy sitting in front of him who now held a neatly folded shirt out to him.
“You uh… You sure bulked up a bit after blowing the curve huh.” Said Morty, accepting his shirt back before handing Mortimer’s crumpled one back to him.
“Lots of free time when you’re free of Ricks and their collateral bullshit.”
“Does it ever get lonely?”
“Not sure. Wouldn’t know. It’s not like I have a family to run back to.”
“You don’t have a family?”
“Why do you care?”
“Well, you did help Rick take down his nemesis, I figured the least I could do was get to know you a little bit.”
“I was born in the Citadel. As far as I’m concerned my Beth is a glass vat and my Jerry is scavenged DNA from the floor of a Morty’s barbershop-”
Mortimer was interrupted by two arms clumsily wrapping around his torso. An unfamiliar tranquility spread through his body and warmth bloomed on his back where the other boy’s hands lay.
“Look for... Look for what it’s worth I think you’re a pretty cool Morty. I mean I’m just boring old flesh, but you, you have all these cool gadgets and devices and you’re smarter than me. Maybe even as smart as Rick.”
Mortimer winced slightly at the boy’s comparison to his grandfather, but it was hard to get mad at Morty when he was radiating compassion, his chin gentling nesting in Mortimer’s shoulder, hands still clumsily wrapped around him, and the smell of pancakes warming his nose ever slightly.
When Morty finally untangled his arms from the other boy’s torso Mortimer couldn’t help but stare. The boy was lanky, odd if Mortimer’s assumption about his constant interdimensional adventures were correct. Surely all of the running from certain death and menial odd jobs would show a little. Maybe all the stress had taken its toll over the years and the boy’s appetite had suffered.
“What happened there?” Mortimer asked pointing to a faint line than ran down the middle of Morty’s chest stopping rather jaggedly above his navel.
“No clue, I’ve lost track at this point. Actually, I think that one was from the time I accidentally shot myself with the bully gun Rick gave me.” Said Morty, laughing awkwardly.
“How does a person “accidentally” shoot themselves with a gun that has instructions for use in the name?” asked Mortimer, staring at Morty in disbelief. “I mean knowing Ricks, that thing was probably as big, loud, and obnoxious as possible.”
“I-I thought the gun would turn me into a bully.”
Now it was Morty’s turn to stare in disbelief as Mortimer’s eyes twinkled with amusement, his lips pursed, practically swallowing his laughter as his nose twitched and little huffs escaped. Morty’s gaze softened as he giggled at the sight. Mortimer took the giggles as an invitation and finally let out his laughs, almost choking as the unfamiliar sensation tickled the back of his throat.
“I’ve never seen you laugh before.” Said Morty once Mortimer stopped to catch his breath. “You... You look a lot less evil when you laugh like that.”
Mortimer felt his face warm at the compliment. He took a moment to try and will it away, his hands trying to cover his reddening cheeks, while he steadied his breathing. His breath hitched when a warm pair of hands caressed his forearms.
“What about you? What’s this from?”
Mortimer swallowed, Morty’s face seemed suffocatingly close and yet impossibly far at the same time. His stomach flipping in an unfamiliar fashion as Morty continued to stare at one of his cybernetic installation scars, completely preoccupied. Almost instinctively his hands moved from his face to Morty’s, thumbs gently stroking the ridges of his cheek bones. Morty’s grip on his forearms tightened in response to the gesture as their hazel eyes met.
“Can I…?” Mortimer started to ask but the end of the question got lost in the sudden dryness of his mouth and the now dizzying smell of pancakes.
“Can... Can you kiss me?” asked Morty, his face red and breath slightly shaky.
Mortimer inched his face closer as a pair of hands cupped his face and Morty gently moved his hand to behind his right ear, thumb catching the strap of his eyepatch. Morty’s gaze flicked back to meet the other’s eyes seeking permission. Mortimer lowered his head, moving it to the left to allow Morty easier access. Morty’s hand returned to the boy’s face, arm wrapping behind his neck and pulling him closer as the eyepatch fell against Morty’s headboard. Morty smiled as the boy’s lips met his own, heart racing and the scent of smoke dizzying. Morty leaned in to reciprocate, but he felt the warmth of Mortimer’s face pull away all too soon.
“Why... Why did you stop?” asked Morty, still feeling his heartbeat in his ears.
“It was bad.” Said Mortimer, pupils shaking as he spoke.
“I-it was?” Morty said, heart immediately plummeting to his stomach.
“Be honest.”
“I-it was nice… R-really nice.”
“Look it had nothing to do with you, it’s just I’ve never actually…”
“I was your first?”
Mortimer turned to face Morty, meeting his gaze with two eyes this time.
“Yeah.”
“H-huh? No way, surely there’s like a space Jessica out there. I mean you’re so confident, maybe a bit smug and even overconfident at times, but still, you’re way cooler than me like objectively. Look it... Look it doesn’t matter, I couldn’t tell. Anyway would... Would you maybe like to…”
“Try again.”
Mortimer barely got the words out before those same arms embraced his neck and he was playfully pushed down onto the mattress with a soft thud. Above him Morty beamed, hands coming to rest on Mortimer’s cheeks. All too happy to let things play out for him, Mortimer placed his hands over Morty’s, running his thumbs over the boy’s knuckles and closing his eyes. When Morty’s lips brushed against his, he happily met them on his own. His stomach filling with butterflies when Morty opened his mouth slightly and leaned in further. Breath coming out of his nose deep and staggered as he clumsily mimicked the gesture by slowly parting his lips. The other boy’s lips and mouth seemingly providing too much and not enough warmth at the same time. Mortimer allowed his mind to grow blank as his heart continued to flutter and he laced his fingers with Morty’s.
When Morty inevitably pulled away, Mortimer couldn’t help but squeeze the other boy’s hands in his own.
~
“Was that... Was that okay?” Asked Morty, seemingly uncharacteristically meek in the aftermath.
“It was.” Said Mortimer. “So where… Actually I’d rather know how did you learn all that?”
“Oh... Funny you should ask, you see when I was younger Rick took me to this alien pawnshop-“
“Actually, tell me later.” Interrupted Mortimer “I’d rather not have his name in your mouth so soon, it kind of… Ruins the moment.”
Seeing the boy’s brows droop Mortimer bit his tongue. Dammit.
“You’re alright though, not exactly a lame Morty yourself.” Said Mortimer, smirking as the other boy’s cheeks grew pink. “I’ll come and visit.”
“What about your shirt?”
“Keep it, you can give it back the next time I visit.” Answered Mortimer, putting his eyepatch back on.
“When will that be?”
“Soon.”
Morty waved sadly as Mortimer shot his portal gun and a yellow portal appeared in the middle of his room.
“Bye.” Morty said.
His heart sinking as the Mortimer stepped through the portal without so much as a wave back. He uncrumpled the shirt he was still holding, stroking the bloodstained sleeve longingly.
“Can I have my shirt back now please?”
Morty jumped, looking up from his lap to see Mortimer stepping out of a golden portal for the second time that day.
“I know I’m Evil Morty, but I’m not Douchebag Morty.” Said Mortimer “I want you to have this so in case something like this happens again I don’t have to travel out here again, and also so if you want to you can maybe come and visit.”
“Thanks.” Said Morty, eagerly accepting the portal gun.
“Just promise me you won’t tell Rick about it. I’d rather not have to deal with him digging through my tech.”
“I promise.”
“See you later then.”
“Wait you’re forgetting something.”
“I am?”
“Yeah come here for a sec it’ll be easier if I show you.”
Confused Mortimer walked over, leaning down to see what Morty was cradling in his hands. Seeing his opportunity, Morty jumped up and planted a gentle peck on the other boy’s cheek. Mortimer immediately stood up straight as heat rushed to his face once more.
“See you later.” Said Mortimer, practically running back through the portal.
“See you later.” Said Morty smiling to himself.
Morty lay back into his bed, holding Mortimer’s shirt above him with outstretched arms. He had forgotten his shirt yet again, Morty could just open a portal with his newly acquired gift and throw it through. But where was the fun in that?