The Journals

:(1):

       When the news had reached every member's ears, jovial shouts of congratulatory remarks sounded through the house. Morty had received his college acceptance letter and was to begin at the end of the month.

       It'd been a few years since he'd barely managed to graduate. He had turned 21 recently. Now, as the July heat bore down on him, he was thankful for the cool alcohol running through his system.

       "M-Morty, y-euugh-you're going to college. You d-did it, Morty." Upon hearing the news, Rick had been as sarcastic a character as he usually was, showing the least amount of interest. But that was to be expected. Soon, he was to lose his lab assistant to the trivial day-to-day actions of society.

       Standing in front of the tv, arms folded in annoyance, Rick towered over Morty's small frame sitting on the couch. "M-Morty, let's go. Let's go, Morty, it's time for eugh an adventure." 

       Setting his near-empty aluminum can on the table, Morty stood. He had hit a growth spurt recently, his eyes now level with Rick's. His voice had changed as well, though it was still a higher pitch. He had nearly completely rid himself of his trademark stutter, too, an achievement he was most proud of. "Gee, Rick, I-I dunno. I should probably get packing soon. I'm leaving in four days." His anxiety was flaring as he thought of leaving for a college dormitory, unknown territory. He slapped himself mentally, trying to keep himself in check. "M-Morty. eugh This is way m-more important, Morty. Y-You can prepare euuugh for your social funeral later. We got- we gotta go, Morty." His grandfather slipped a hand over his shoulder, ushering him into the all-too-familiar garage. By now, Morty was sure he could name every invention lining the shelves.

       Clambering in, kicking aside empty cans and bottles to make way for his feet, Morty waited patiently for Rick to sit and start the rust-bucket. The engine roared to life and Morty found himself once again staring at passing stars and planets. The scenery was always the same, but the effect never wore off. Space was beautiful. "Rick, where are we going this time?" Morty's attention remained on the passing objects outside the window. "W-We're g-eugh-going to get some more al-alcohol euugh, Morty. You almost cleaned out the whole supply." Knowing this to be false, Morty shook his head, not annoyed in the slightest. He was just glad Rick had brought him along. Shifting in his seat, Morty turned his attention to his highly-focused companion.

       There had always been something about Rick that Morty knew was different. At 17, he realized just what that was. He had begun to fall for Rick when he was 14 and had taken three years to realize. He felt stupid at the time, but soon after he realized he was the only one who had any knowledge of his mistake. There was nothing for Morty to fear. He had come to terms with his emotions fairly quickly afterwards.

       As he sat and stared, he took in Rick's current appearance. He had told Morty he was having problems sleeping a while ago when the younger had pressed for an answer as to why Rick was struggling in his work. Now, as he admired from afar, Morty could see that Rick had clearly solved his sleeping problem for the time being. The bags under his eyes had disappeared and his usual scowl was toned down. His hair was well maintained, as well, resting atop his head in perfect form. Looking away, not wanting to be caught staring, Morty let his mind wander. He thought about the feel of running his hand through Rick's insane hair, tugging the blue mane enough to make him gasp slightly. He pictured himself, pinned beneath Rick in the throes of ecstasy. Yes, he knew it was wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to care. 

       It couldn't possibly be as bad as taking two characters and forcing them into that very situation for personal amusement. 

        No, in Morty's mind there was nothing wrong with it. Of course, he knew what went on in his wild imagination would surely never happen in the real world, but he could dream. As they drifted through space, finding their way to their destination, Morty stared out the window wondering what it would be like to have Rick tie him up. One would think he would be blushing like mad, but he had grown fairly adept at keeping his thoughts and facial expressions separated. Besides, having thought about it enough, he had found ways to conceal himself discreetly and comfortably. He had nothing to fear.

       "M-Morty," Rick quickly shook Morty's shoulder, pulling him from thought, "Let's go, eugh Morty. Got-Gotta get some euuugh and go before they close." Begrudgingly, Morty tucked his fantasies away and climbed down, following Rick into a shop with alcohol surrounding them on all four sides. This was truly Rick's personal heaven. 

       It hadn't taken long for Rick to pile multiple bottles into Morty's arms, having neglected to grab a cart on the way in. They made their way back to the check-out aisles while Rick occasionally grabbed extra bottles that caught his attention on the way. The clerk rang up 18 bottles of expensive alcohol, throwing it all into bags while Rick paid before they made their way out, a smile on Morty's face as he was genuinely glad nothing had gone awry within the shop.

       For the time being, Morty had pulled his phone from his back pocket, reading his favorite story for nearly the tenth time in three days. It had such extraordinary detail in everything and he simply enjoyed it, laughing often and dismissing Rick's quizzical, annoyed glances. The adult content made him tilt his phone just enough that Rick couldn't get a side glance into what his doting grandson read in his spare time.