Chapter Text
The video was low quality, cam footage - from a phone, probably, judging from the slight shakiness - and obviously staged. It started with no prelude and no story, just two men in focus in what looked like some sort of home office. One of them was noticeably shorter than the other and looked like he was in his twenties, wearing gray boxer briefs and glasses with thick black frames. The other was older and fit, but not any specific age Morty could pin down. Anywhere from 30-50, from the gray edging up into the rest of his dark hair at the temples.
The two men kissed and Morty realized he should’ve taken his jeans off before as his dick started chubbing up against his fly uncomfortably. He quickly unbuttoned and unzipped, eyes fixed on the screen as the older man used a hand in the younger man’s hair and half-guided/half-forced his head down to his chest, holding him in place to suck at his nipple.
He only had one ear bud in to make sure he could hear if anyone came home early. Even at 19, he wasn’t immune to being teased by his family. Even so, the volume was loud enough to hear the heavy breathing from the video.
“Fuck, baby,” the older guy muttered. “Yeah, like that...mm. That’s good.”
It wasn’t especially inspired, but something in the guy’s voice tightened his gut even more and he slid his hand under the elastic waist of his boxers, shifting and wriggling until he could grind up into his palm in the tight space that was allowed by his jeans.
God, he needed this. What was the title? Morty tapped the space bar, pausing the playback and bringing up the name. Making the Grade 3/4.
He’d have to check out the other parts. For now, though…
Morty resumed the video and leaned back, tugging his dick up so he could slide his fingers over the head as the younger guy went lower and lower until he was licking the other guy’s dick through his brown slacks.
~
It had become a habit, then routine: one night a week (no real predicting when, to avoid dangerous routines and to sate his own paranoia, Rick tried to keep it unpredictable) Rick would spend time interacting with Beth and working on whatever needed fixing around the house. He bitched about it, but usually Jerry had taken a stab at fixing things first, so it was actually a stellar opportunity to torment his son in law.
When he started on his first household repair, Morty would have a minimum of three hours, but usually four and occasionally up to five, and he did his damndest to spend at least the first hour getting off. It was safest to wrap up with coursework for the last hour or more to avoid Rick bursting in during a bad moment, but Morty needed at least a little time to himself and this was the only way to guarantee he got it, at least until he moved out next year.
Morty usually navigated the sites he found through Rick’s secure “no questions asked” wifi by clicking through profiles and finding favorites of the people posting videos he liked or of commenters he agreed with. That had lead to the video of the “professor” and the college senior looking to improve his grades -- Morty had found the others in the series that linked into a loose story of blackmail, lust, and debauchery -- and somehow that had ended up on a public tag for generation gaps, or older/younger pairings.
Morty didn’t usually browse public tags, but every now and then, he’d find himself running dry and risk it. He’d made the jump from the tags on the series he’d just finished, and somehow he’d found himself watching the same actor from that series eating out another guy, one that looked even older than the actor playing the professor, with a full head of messy gray hair and leaner, maybe a little fitter than the last guy had been.
The younger blond pulled back, face messy with spit and the lube that had dripped down from where he was stroking the older guy’s dick, getting it slick and impressively hard.
“Oh, fuck,” Morty muttered, shifting his leg up to get a decent angle, rubbing his anus gently, watching intently as the blond shifted and reached down to remove an impressive butt plug.
The older man tugged the younger one up and obviously looked him up and down, taking the plug from him, and then told him what a filthy, slutty mess he was before kissing him.
“Holy… Geez, man…” Morty whispered, his fingers stilling even as his dick flexed . “Wow, uh…”
The rest of the video was just as good and Morty ended up jerking off twice watching the blond ride the older guy to a steady stream of filth and endearments, cumming the first time when the blond did, arching up and splattering the bed and his partner and himself, rising up on his knees, and the older guy got a leg under him and kept fucking up into him, dragging out a startled whine as the blond fell forward and barely seemed to catch himself on his hands.
He came again when they switched positions so that the blond on his back, taking that thick cock long and deep. The camera panned between absolutely lewd kisses, broken only so the grey haired man could drag his stubble-rough mouth over the blond’s jaw and neck, leaving faint red welts as high sharp yips were forced out of the blond with every forceful thrust.
When he was able to motivate himself through the afterglow to clean off his hands, Morty checked the title.
Good Boys Finish First
What? Well, whatever. He bookmarked it anyway.
~
It was a rabbit hole from there, and Morty felt like he was falling a little. He watched everything that had the older guy on the site and from the content providers, found even more videos. That had brought him to the slowly growing realization that as he’d explored, his preference had adapted. It had been two months since he’d stumbled over that first video and he’d found himself focusing almost solely on men anywhere from twenty to forty years older than that with people -- men and women -- in their early twenties.
He hadn’t thought about twice about it because he was a fucking idiot, but...god, if only he could go back in time or ask Rick to erase a certain memory without having to tell him what it was? But that wouldn’t be possible even if the technology could handle it. Rick would never let him use the memory eraser without telling him what he wanted removed.
The problem was, the last video had involved a little power play, and somehow -- somehow -- during their most recent adventure, Rick had managed to say the exact same piece of dialog that had triggered Morty’s orgasm during his last session, and something vague in Morty’s head had crystallized and shattered almost at once, sending a cold spark of heat down his spine.
Rick had been ordering him to look for a weird gelatin orb that had rolled under the ship console. Morty had complained.
“Get down and stay there. I’ll tell you when you can get up.”
When Morty had realized what he’d said, when that weird sensation had gripped his spine, he’d found himself with a head full of static on his knees in the ship, staring at Rick in shock.
“God damn it, Morty, it’s a fucking panacea and you -- I need it if I’m going to like -- if I want to cure liver cancer or whatever. You know the liver is my favorite organ! If you render this whole bullshit pointless, M--EURG-orty, I swear to fucking god…”
Morty should have bitched him out for ordering him around but found himself unable to keep eye contact, so he looked for Rick’s stupid gello sphere, cheeks uncomfortably hot, absolutely certain Rick was staring down at him and trying desperately not to conceptualize the realization he’d had.
The fact didn’t stop him from plugging his headphones into his laptop the minute he got home and finding that video again.
God damn it, he thought blearily, thoughts moving like soup in his mind through the endorphins and Rick’s voice in his memory. There was a brief moment that edged around shame maybe, but a more important thought took precedence. That smug old bastard can never know.