Rick and Morty Short Stories

Homework.

For a friend of mine, who apparently didn't want to write her own story xD

Content:
Rick/Morty - C137cest - Rorty
(Mature Content)
Morty grows suspicious when Rick offers to help him with him math homework. Things get a little out of hand as they continue, and Morty struggles to hold a conversation with Beth.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

       Morty sat in his room, groaning repeatedly as he couldn't get the answer right on his math assignment. He couldn't remember the formulas, and the few he did were really just a jumbled mess of what Morty assumed to be a formula of some sort. 
       Carry the seven... multiply by.. three?.. no, four... DAMMIT.

       Morty threw his pencil at the wall, huffing in frustration as he glared at the paper before him. It didn't help much that the numbers seemed to be jumbling in front of him, his dyslexia acting up once more. 

       "Jesus," Morty jumped as his bedroom door slammed open. Rick stood in the doorway, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as he shut his eyes momentarily. "What urp What the fuck is you-you-your problem, M-Morty?" Rick ended his statement with a belch, glaring at the little brunet. 

       "S-Sorry," Morty grumbled, leaving his homework on the bed as he grabbed his pencil. "I c-can't... can't figure this out," Morty showed Rick the paper. The older rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, "Yo-You eugh gotta.. gotta get your shit to-urp-gether, Mo-Morty." 

       The brunet rolled his eyes and plopped down on his bed as Rick wandered out, mumbling about how Morty sounded like he was gettin' some with all the noises he was making. 

       Morty sighed once more. He knew Rick wouldn't care about the homework. He probably just came in to see if Morty was getting off without Rick. Glaring at the numbers as if focusing so hard he got a headache would make them stop swirling on the paper, Morty attempted to solve the same problem.

       After ten minutes, Morty was nowhere near an answer. Scribbles covered every bit of a piece of scrap paper he had been using. He angrily flipped the page in his notebook, accidentally tearing it as he turned to a fresh sheet. He groaned once more in frustration, deciding he needed a change of scenery. Maybe doing his homework in the kitchen would help him focus. It was quiet, and he wouldn't hear Summer's music and loud conversations from down the hall. 

       A quick trip downstairs revealed that nobody was on the lower level, aside from Rick who worked in his garage through the evening regularly. His mother was at work, which meant Jerry was probably trying to sell his slogan again. 

       Morty sighed in relief, finding it to be relatively peaceful as he sat at the kitchen table. He laid his paper out in front of him, trying again in the new surroundings. He could focus a little more, no longer trying to make out the lyrics to Summer's music or find the sock that matched the one laying across his room on the floor. 

       Nearly ten minutes into it, after Morty successfully solved another problem, the brunet stood from his chair. He decided to stretch a little as he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. Turning, he found Rick creeping into the kitchen, staring curiously. "Still?" he muttered. Morty nodded, capping the water bottle. Rick grumbled and walked over to the sheet, looking over Morty's work momentarily. He sighed and looked over Morty's scrap paper, eyeing the scribbles curiously.

       "This is eugh the only time I'm doin' this, Mo-Morty." Rick warned, sitting in the chair the brunet had been in moments ago. "I'm gonna urp gon-gonna help you out."