FISH

All of the blood that should've been running his brain had flooded to his crotch a long time ago, the very second he laid eyes on this teeny version of Rick. He looked about eleven, maybe twelve, with a softer, smaller, more inviting face than that of his older counterpart. His eyes were richer, browner, the fog of age lost from his irises. His skin was a bit darker, more natural; the color hadn't drained out of it yet, the decades of drinking that paled and jaundiced older Rick's skin were still in his future. His hair was healthy and dark.

Morty saw himself in little Rick.

Well.

He saw himself in little Rick's pants.

Morty pressed his nose against Rick's groin, glad no one was here to make fun of him for getting off on it.

"Mister Smith, my— my mamá says I shouldn't let anyone touch me there," little Rick mumbled. He was wringing his hands and looking over his shoulder like someone would barge into the cabin and scold him any second now.

"Don't worry, kiddo. I'm family." I'm family. I'm family. Fuck. Morty was going to matrix hell.

"B-but Mister Smith, I— ah!" Rick clasped his tiny hands over his mouth. Morty tugged his pants down, impatient of the kid's nervous rambling. A little tent formed in Rick's rocketship-patterned underwear.

"Oh fuck," Morty groaned. He pressed his face against Rick's clothed dick again, leaving firm kisses along the kid's sweet little bulge.

"That's a bad word..." Rick whispered through his fingers. "Mamá doesn't let me say that."

"Gonna be saying a lot of bad words tonight, baby."

"Oh jeez."

Morty couldn't take it anymore. He had to have this kid. He pulled Rick's underwear down, fought the urge to shove his face in them, and instead focused on Rick's cock. It was bite-sized and uncut with a precious, beading tip that Morty wanted to lap up and taste on his tongue.

"M'gonna suck you off," Morty muttered more to himself than to Rick.

"What's that mean?"

"It means I'm putting your penis in my mouth."

"O-oh— oh! OH! W-what?! You can't do that!! That's gross!"

"Adults do this all the time, kiddo." Morty's breath was hot on Rick's cock as he worked himself up to start. This would be the best night he'd had since his last time with C.J.

Little Rick tasted like sweat and regret and destroyed innocence. He was so small in Morty's mouth.

Rick instantly grabbed Morty's hair. His hips jerked. He let out the most adorable sound Morty had ever heard. Morty sucked harder.

"M-Mister Smith, I-I-I don't— can't— h-hah— w-wait, wait, wait, please, I'm— I'm conf— ah— confused, w-what's hap-happening?"

Morty's fingers barely brushed against Rick's tiny balls before the boy curled over Morty's head and howled, a little spurt of cum painting Morty's tongue.

"O-oohh jeez— oh man, oh jeez, o-o-oh jeez," Rick panted. As soon as Morty pulled away, he shoved the hem of his sweater down to cover his pretty little cock.

Morty wiped his mouth, breathing heavily, and grinned.