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~

“Just hanging out?” Martha pouted some, that not sounding nearly as exciting and romantic. “But you like him, don’t you?” She gave his arm a light squeeze. “I know things with Avery didn’t end well, but that doesn’t mean this relationship will be the same. They’re two completely different people, for one.” She hoped she was being encouraging. She knew Morty had screwed things up with Avery pretty badly, but she had faith that he’d be able to have a successful relationship. Jack seemed a lot more easygoing than Avery, for one.

-

Morty winced at the mention of Avery, avoiding eye contact as he took another sip of his drink. He didn’t want to admit that he wanted to be able to make things work with Jack, or that he cared at all. It would hurt too badly when he did ruin things again. Avery had never been the problem, and he knew Jack wouldn’t be either. Morty was carrying enough shame without having to look Martha in the face again and admit that he’d repeated the exact same mistakes again. 

“I fucked things up with Avery because I left, and I don’t know when Nathaniel will be back, but I’m going to be leaving again. I don’t want to get into anything serious.” He insisted with a small shrug. “I don’t want to hurt him. Going out at all is probably a mistake.”

~

Jack blinked, hesitating. “You wouldn’t be a mistake, Morty. I like you.” He swallowing hard. “If … I can take you to dinner, if you want. I’d love to take you out. I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to.” He smiled faintly. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for ages,” he confessed. He was incredibly nervous, never having actually asked someone out before, always afraid of the rejection. But this didn’t seem like Morty was rejecting him, necessarily.

-

Morty thought that was exactly why he would be a mistake, considering that he was waiting for Nathaniel to show back up at any moment and call him away again. He was genuinely flattered that someone like Jack would care about him at all though, and he didn’t want to say no even though he was certain that he would if he were actually a decent person. 

“I’m honored. And questioning your judgement, cuz you can do so much better.” He looked up with a lopsided smile. “That being said, I’d love to go out with you too, whenever you want. Obviously, it’s... you know, no rush.”

~

Avery blinked, pursing her lips and resisting the urge to be sarcastic right out of the gate. Honestly, she was surprised that he remembered her name, eight years after leaving with his witch and disappearing off the face of the earth. She hadn’t even known if he was alive or not until Martha told her.

And now here he was, offering her his place in line like nothing had happened. Like that would make up for everything.

She still stepped forward and took it, though.

“Nice to see you’re alive,” she said truthfully, only a little sarcastically. She couldn’t help herself in the end. She was not happy.

-

Morty was relieved when she took his place in line, aware that it didn’t mean shit but still grateful that she hadn’t just stormed off. Seeing her brought up a lot of feelings that he’d shelved for a lot of years, his life feeling more and more like a series of stupid mistakes every day.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke suddenly, doubting it would make her feel any better but needing to say it anyway. “I’m- I fucked up. I know there’s nothing I can do to make things right, but... I’m really sorry, Avery. I should have just told you what was going on, but I didn’t want to break up, and I didn’t see any way around that with the way things were going. I knew I was going to lose you one way or another, and I guess I was too much of a coward to face that. It’s really fucking stupid, and I’m sorry.”

~

Jack was positive he’d done something wrong when Morty froze and bumped his nose against Jack’s briefly before pulling away quickly, but then Morty was talking about how Jack made him feel better, and he relaxed some.

“I’m glad I make you feel better,” he said softly, looking back at Morty and finding himself leaning forward slightly. Morty hadn’t jumped up and run away, yet, so maybe this was okay. He moved slowly, giving Morty plenty of time to do so if he wanted, still.

-

Morty felt panic bubbling in his chest, his brow furrowing as he saw Jack leaning in again. “Jack,” He reached to place his hand on the center of the other’s chest, gently pushing him back. “Not like this, okay?” He couldn’t stomach the idea of Jack waking up tomorrow and realizing that this had all been an unfortunate result of the stress and grief that he was experiencing. At the very least he didn’t want Jack to associate him with feeling the way that he was. 

“It’s just- we’re both under all this shit, and I don’t want you to think of me as a mistake.” He lowered his hand, worried that Jack might take this as rejection and feel worse than he had before. “I’m down to cuddle, if you’re in to that, but that’s as good as you’re gonna get without taking me to dinner first.” He offered with a teasing smile, hopeful that Jack would let him take the fall between them.

~

Jack smiled faintly as he watched Morty take a sniff of the crayon. There was something incredibly endearing about watching the familiar indulge him like this. He looked down as Morty pointed out the non-toxic label, blinking blankly for a moment. “Oh yeah,” he said with a small laugh at himself for not noticing before. He looked over at Morty then, feeling the overwhelming urge to kiss him suddenly. He was just so grateful for him in that moment, along with other feelings he’d been harboring for quite some time for his friend.

In the end, he found himself leaning forward to kiss Morty’s cheek. Not entirely what he wanted to do, but also showing his gratitude in some way. “Thanks,” he said with a small smile, his face growing warm.

-

Morty froze momentarily, not having expected that. He turned his head to look at Jack, their noses brushing before he pulled away, his brain scrambling for a self-deprecating joke that could be made to diffuse tension. He’d shown up under the pretense of checking in to make sure that Jack was okay, but he’d known to look for an anchor in Jack because Jack had always stayed the same no matter what Morty had seen life throw at him. 

“You don’t need to thank me.” He insisted, wondering if he was thinking too much in to it. Jack was a really friendly person, maybe he kissed everyone on the cheek. “I’m not here for unselfish reasons, I knew hanging out with you would make me feel better about everything going on. It’s a vermin thing, we’re pretty opportunistic.”

“Oh, yeah, actually,” Jack said, immediately distracted from the laundry to stand and search for crayons. He found his box of craft supplies, digging through it before finding a box of crayons. He leaned back on his heels, picking one out of the box and sniffing it before putting it back and picking up a second one to sniff at it. He was about to sniff at a third one before remembering Morty was supposed to help with this experiment. Standing, he made his way back over to the couch to hold the box out to his friend. “It’s not a super strong smell, but it’s definitely a smell.”

-

Morty set a folded shirt aside and reached to pluck a crayon from the box, holding it under his nose and inhaling like it was a Cuban cigar. “Oh, yeah. That’s familiar.” He nodded, glancing up at Jack. “And look, it says right there on the box that they’re non-toxic.” He gave the Crayon another sniff before lowering it. “I think I used to chew the paper off of these, which is gross, but, you know, non-toxic.”

~

Jack offered Morty a small smile. “Yeah, sounds good,” he said, leading the way over to the couch with his drink, setting it on the coffee table before pulling his laundry basket over. “He was only five, so he was just starting to get a personality. He was really sweet, though. Hyperactive, but most kids are at that age, you know? He liked to sniff crayons for some reason, but I was pretty sure it wouldn’t hurt him so I let him.” He paused. “Sniffing crayons doesn’t hurt kids, does it?”

-

Morty grabbed his drink and one of the liquor bottles, following Jack to the couch to help with the laundry. “I’m sure they’re probably non-toxic. The ones they sell for kids and schools, at the very least.” He downed the last of his drink and sat down, reaching to grab clothes from the hamper. “I don’t remember what they smell like, but maybe he was on to something. You have any here?” He asked curiously, guessing that a guy who had gone to the club covered in stickers might also have craft supplies on hand.

~

As soon as Morty offered a hug, Jack turned into him, setting his glass down to wrap his arms around the other man, hugging him tightly as he pressed his face into Morty’s shoulder. “You being here helps,” he admitted, grateful for Morty stopping by, even if he wouldn’t have asked him (or anyone) to. “You’re a good friend, Morty.”

-

Morty felt a wave of relief when Jack hugged him instead of just insisting that he was okay, Morty knowing that’s probably what he would have done if it were him. He hugged Jack in return, making a conscious effort to refrain from reverting to his default of making self-deprecating jokes.

He pulled away, his hands resting on Jack’s shoulders. “You wanna tell me about who he was while we fold laundry?” He didn’t feel equipped to help anyone deal with anything as heavy as grief, but he wanted to help however he could.

~

Jack shook his head. “Just a few scrapes and bruises. I-I tried my best to help people, you know? Get them out from under rubble and stuff … a lot of people got trapped.” He inhaled shakily. “One of my, um, one of my kids at the center where I work … he was on a ride that collapsed and … he died. He was only five. He …” He gestured mutely to the ground. “Just laying there …”

-

Morty’s brow furrowed as Jack opened up to him, a sense of panic gripping his chest as he felt helpless. He didn’t know how to comfort anyone. His go-to method for dealing with discomfort was irreverent behavior, and he doubted that’s what Jack needed at this moment.

“Fuck, Jack. I’m so sorry. I don’t- I’m sorry.” He stammered helplessly, setting his glass to the side. “Do you want a hug? I’m really bad at this, just- tell me how I can help, if I can.” He doubted that he could, but he wanted Jack to know he was there for him if he needed anything.

~

Jack felt guilty when Morty mentioned he came over because he considered him a positive person. Jack didn’t really feel very positive at the moment. He wasn’t sure he could muster up any good vibes either, without them being fake, and Jack was nothing if not a genuine person.

“I … don’t really have any good vibes to give,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. I mean, I’m glad you’re physically okay. I figure that means we’ll get through it eventually.” He mustered up a tiny smile, picking up his glass which Morty had filled. “To … moving forward, I guess.” He raised the glass in a toast before taking a sip. 

-

“No, yeah, sorry, that’s what I meant. I mean, I realized how shitty it sounded and tried to say you didn’t need to be. That I don’t need you to be.” Morty grimaced slightly as he tried to explain, lowering his drink. “Were you hurt?” He asked, thinking Jack looked fine but doubting that was any guarantee that he was.

~

“Yeah, I do that too sometimes,” Jack admitted, following Morty over to the kitchen. He blinked in surprise when he saw the contents of the bag, not having realized Morty was paying any attention to his drink choices when they were out. “Thanks, man,” he said with a small smile, trying not to read anything into that.

He got a couple glasses down from the cabinets which were clean, setting them next to the brown bag before quickly filling the dishwasher with the stuff in the sink and turning it on. Company was as good an excuse as any to get his butt into gear about cleaning up. “So, um, how are you doing?”

-

Morty unpacked the rest of the bag and began mixing drinks, eyeballing the measurements because he couldn’t be bothered to ask Jack where his shotglasses were. “I don’t know, man. I’ve just felt... on edge, I guess. Since the festival.” He slid one of the drinks towards Jack, picking up the other for himself. “”And you’re the most positive person I know, so I came to leech off your good vibes, I guess. Sorry.” He turned to face Jack, leaning against the edge of the counter. “That being said, I don’t need or expect you to be fine.” 

Jack wasn’t expecting anyone, so he was surprised when he heard the knock on the door of his apartment. Making his way over, he opened it cautiously, his surprise multiplying when he saw Morty, of all people, standing there. He caught himself staring for a moment before nodding.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, come in,” he said, opening the door wider and stepping back to let Morty in. “Uh, excuse the mess …” He hadn’t really had the energy to clean so there were clothes everywhere and a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. He wasn’t meticulous on a good day, so since the earthquake he’d just been spazzing more than usual. Even know he had on a pair of sweats and nothing else, all of his shirts scattered around the floor. He found one to pull on after making sure it passed the sniff-test, turning to try and pick up some of the clothes to drop them on his overflowing laundry basket. “I wasn’t really expecting anyone.”

-

Morty shook his head as he stepped inside, taking one look around the room and wondering if Jack would be appalled at what a normal day looked like at his place. “I’m a big fan of shoving everything under the bed until I’m in a place where I can deal with it.”  He offered with a brief smile as he moved to the kitchen counter and set the bag down. “You want a drink? I brought stuff for your Long Island ice teas.” 

​Morty was standing outside of Jack’s door with a brown paper bag tucked under one arm, questioning his decision to be there at all. A pit of dread had formed in his stomach in the moments leading up to the earthquake, and he hadn’t been able to shake the feeling since.

He knocked and was waiting for a response, half-hoping that Jack wasn’t even home. He stepped backwards after several moments, looking to either side and making the decision to leave just as he heard the deadbolt click. He looked up as Jack opened the door, bottles clinking inside the bag as he shifted between feet. “Was hoping you might want some company.” He offered by way of greeting, judging by Jack’s appearance that he wasn’t doing so great either.