Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11441247.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Morty_Smith/Morty_Smith, Morty_Smith/Spare_Parts_Morty_(comic)
  Character:
      Morty_Smith, Spare_Parts_Morty_(comic)
  Additional Tags:
      Frottage, Blow_Jobs, Self-cest, mortycest_-_Freeform, Snowballing, Canon
      Compliant, comic-verse, Masturbation, self-care
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-08 Words: 3686
****** A Special Sort of Self-Care ******
by TripleX_Tyrant
Summary
     (Post-issue 27 of the RaM comic.) The school dance is a total bust
     for Morty and Spare Parts Morty. In fact, everything feels like a
     bust. Luckily, Morty's clone knows how to show him the care he
     deserves.
Notes
     This fic is based off a scene that occurs at the end of issue 27 of
     the Rick and Morty comics, the most important page of which can be
     found here. (spoiler for the issue, obviously.)
Alien spider guts stained Morty’s hair and clothes while Spare Parts Morty
reeked of the toilet water he’d been soaked in, and though Summer, whose night
at the school dance had also been ruined by alien spiders, had planned on
following the two versions of her brother home, the pair found themselves
walking off without their lollygagging sister.
Together, the Mortys showered, the acceptance of their identical biology
preceding any conversation on the matter. In fact, it was with little
conversation in general that the two stripped, stepped into the tub, and
brought the water to that perfect, too-hot-for-most temperature that each
independently knew and loved before scrubbing the grime and filth of the night
away.
It wasn’t until they retreated to Morty’s bedroom that they really talked, and
once they got started, they couldn’t seem to stop. They talked about the dance,
its highlights and disappointments. They talked about how pretty Jessica was in
her dress, and how kind she’d been to call when Brad ditched her. They agreed
that Brad didn’t deserve Jessica, and that he paid her too little attention.
Morty told Spare Parts Morty how guilty he felt about Princess Decoria, having
taken the Martian princess for granted despite her kindness toward him.
“She didn’t deserve to die,” Morty said.
They’d opted to keep the bedroom light off in favor of the gentler glow of
Morty’s bedside lamp, so it was in the dark that SP-Morty pulled on a clean T-
shirt before crawling onto the bed to sit beside Morty, back against the
headboard. In the light, they saw that they wore the same shirt.
“You couldn’t have known tonight would go the way it did,” SP-Morty said.
Morty dangled his leg off the side of the bed, eyes falling to the floor where
his foot didn’t quite reach. “Yes I could,” he replied. “Rick was there. Things
always go to shit when Rick’s around.”
SP-Morty rested his head on Morty’s shoulder. His voice came like that of
Morty’s own conscience, saying the words he’d already thought but needed to
hear. “You’re not to blame for Rick being shit.”
“I know.” Morty grabbed SP’s hand. It matched his own exactly but still felt
very small, and with a squeeze of that hand, Morty said, “So why do I always
end up feeling shitty?”
The two fell silent for a while after that, and SP-Morty couldn’t stand the
weight of their shared depression. But what could they talk about? Jessica?
Princess Decoria? Rick? He didn’t want to talk about any of that, and he knew
Morty didn’t either.
“Let’s talk about something else,” SP-Morty said. “Anything else.”
So they talked about video games and TV shows. About missed opportunities with
hot girls and annoying subjects in school. About food and holidays and things
they wanted to do before they died. Their words melded into a stream of
consciousness, their internal monologue brought into the world.
“Gotta admit,” Morty said, “i-it’s kinda nice talking to myself. Usually, I
think other Mortys are a little annoying, but it feels like… Hmm, it feels-”
“Like I can process things better,” SP-Morty finished, rubbing his thumb across
Morty’s own and reminding Morty how he’d never let go of him. He did so now
with an awkward chuckle.
“Y-yeah. Exactly.” Morty looked his clone over. “But wait a minute. How does
this make sense? You’re a clone, not a Morty from another dimension, right?”
SP-Morty pursed his lips, then pouted. “Well, I’m named Spare Parts so…” He
trailed off, and Morty felt no reason to finish the thought aloud. Just because
they didn’t want to follow the implication of his name didn’t mean they failed
to understand it. Instead, SP said, “But I guess I got your brains
specifically. Or at least, a copy of ‘em?”
“Oh.” Morty pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.
“Sorry.”
SP-Morty chewed on the inside of his cheek as he eyed the other Morty. “Hey,”
he said, nudging Morty with his elbow, “we looked pretty good tonight though,
didn’t we?”
“You think?”
“Don’t you?”
Morty thought about how his clone had looked in his matching suit earlier in
the evening. He’d been emboldened by the sight, finding he hadn’t looked half
bad. On a copy, it was easier to see that his clothes fit right, that his hair
held its place, and that his acne wasn’t as blaring as it appeared when leaning
into the mirror.
“I don’t really think of myself as, y’know, handsome or anything,” Morty said.
“No, but we totally are! Don’t you think? I mean, you look just like me, and
I’ve been thinking you looked pretty cute all night.”
Laughter bubbled out of Morty.
“For real though!” SP-Morty exclaimed. “If Jessica can’t see that- I-if she’d
rather have some… some meat-head than someone like us, then that’s her loss.”
Morty turned his eyes down and shrugged. “I dunno about that.”
“I do. And I know we don’t deserve the crap we’re put through by assholes like
Brad. Or Rick.”
SP sounded so sure, speaking ideas that Morty could only wish to believe. But
as things stood, he couldn’t.
“How do you know you’re not totally wrong?” Morty asked. “How do you know we
wouldn’t be horrible for Jessica? O-or that we don’t deserve the crap? Being
pushed around and picked on, or ignored unless we’re being used.”
SP-Morty placed a hand on Morty’s shoulder, and when Morty met his eyes, the
intensity of his gaze sent a chill down his back. “I know it ‘cause you know
it, Morty. And if nobody else is gonna treat you the way you deserve, then you
have to. So I will.”
Morty opened his mouth to spout more melancholy, but before he could, SP
planted his hands on his cheeks and slammed his eyes shut, cramming their lips
together.
The kiss was hard and tight-lipped, and when the two pulled away, they wore
matching red faces. SP-Morty removed his hands from Morty’s face and wiped his
sweaty palms on his jeans while Morty gripped his shirt over his gut, sucking
his lips. They didn’t look at each other.
“Wow,” Morty finally said.
“Y-yeah. That was…”
“Weird.”
“Yeah.”
Slowly, Morty peeked at his clone, fingers twitching in his direction before he
allowed himself to rest his hand on SP-Morty’s thigh. “Can we try again?”
SP-Morty whipped his face to him. “For real?”
He met SP-Morty’s gaze with a shy one of his own. “It doesn’t have to be too
weird, right? I mean, I’ve kissed my reflection before.”
“You deserve a real kiss,” SP-Morty said, leaning closer, taking Morty’s hand
and intertwining their fingers. “You deserve so much more.”
As SP-Morty came near again, tingles danced in Morty’s cheeks, and he closed
his eyes as their lips met. This time, their mouths melded in a soft heat, and
Morty’s lips parted like a blossoming bud under nurturing rays. SP-Morty hummed
when he kissed into that open mouth, and he readily dove his tongue in. He laid
his hand against Morty’s chest, feeling the powerful beats of his heart as
their tongues twirled together.
Taut, little bodies moved closer, hands grabbing one another’s shirts and
thighs and hips as their mouths sealed, tongues lapping and swirling. SP-Morty
threw his leg over Morty’s lap, and Morty moaned, mind fogging with endorphins
while his hand slid around to cup his clone’s ass. SP-Morty lowered himself
onto Morty’s lap, the twin tents in their jeans pressing together and sending a
burst of pleasure burning through their groins and hearts.
Morty whimpered and pushed SP off of himself.
“W-what’s the matter?” SP-Morty asked, falling away and watching Morty rub his
mouth with the back of his hand.
Morty faced him, cheeks as red as cherries. “This is super weird! Isn’t it?
Kissing is one thing, b-but this is...”
“If we weren’t doing it together, we’d be doing it by ourselves,” SP said,
surprising Morty with the hurt in his voice. “And anyhow, I dunno about you,
but I was kinda hoping to get lucky tonight.”
“Jeez, I mean,” Morty wrung his hands together, “me too, but I don’t really
wanna lose my virginity to myself. Like, does that even count, or is it just
masturbation? Is it, like, sad?”
“Who cares? It’s not like anybody would know.” SP-Morty raised his hand and ran
his fingers through Morty’s hair, still a little damp from their shower.
“You’re overthinking everything. Just like you always do. Let’s enjoy ourself.”
He kissed Morty’s cheek. “We’re built the same.” He kissed Morty’s neck. “We
know what feels good.” He ran his fingertips over Morty’s bulge, making Morty
gasp oh so quietly, hips twitching. “We know how to treat ourself right. Why
don’t we?”
Even with his thoughts becoming more incoherent with his growing arousal, Morty
mumbled, “Rick would never let me live this down. He-”
A hard grope of his cock brought Morty’s words to a halt.
“Rick isn’t here right now. Nobody is. It’s just you, Morty.”
He kissed Morty, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as Morty rutted against
his hand. And that’s when the door opened, throwing light on the pair.
“Whoa! Morty!” came Jerry’s voice from the doorway. Morty yanked SP’s hand
away, but the clone kept his arm hovered over him protectively.
“What is going on in here?” Beth asked, shock in her voice.
“L-look,” SP-Morty started, tone turned severe at the intrusion, “you g-g-gotta
knock before you come in here!” He worried that the mood was ruined. That Morty
would feel the judgement of his family too strongly to continue. Instead, SP-
Morty witnessed Morty take an unexpected stand for himself.
“I-I-I’m not going to answer any-- I mean, I know it poses some really, uh,
interesting philosophical questions,” he said, and SP-Morty knew those
questions well. Aside from hearing Morty ask them, he wondered them himself.
But as Morty spoke, he knew with great relief that those questions wouldn’t be
enough to break them apart. “Just close the door and, you know, let me be alone
with myself.”
“Ohhhh boy,” Rick said, appearing in the doorway as though he could sense how
badly his presence was unwanted. “We’ve all been there, right?”
SP-Morty couldn’t tell if Rick’s tone was genuine or mocking, but he wasn’t
going to wait another second for those volatile forces in the doorway to impede
on his time with himself. “I said, close the door!” he shouted.
Luckily, the family took heed, and the door was closed. The pair shared a deep
sigh. Morty expected his clone to share his soured mood, but to his surprise,
he saw only excitement and mischief in his features. SP-Morty popped open his
pants button, looked into Morty’s eyes, and said, “Fuck me, Morty. I’m sick of
waiting.”
Morty couldn’t have argued if he wanted to. He took hold of SP-Morty’s jeans at
the thighs and, as SP lifted off the bed, jerked them down. Tossing the pants
to the floor, Morty turned back to find a noticeable erection straining in his
clone’s briefs. It was an incredibly strange situation to see the outline of
his own cock before him, and to see his own legs, lean and covered in soft,
brown hairs, extending out.
“W-what?” SP-Morty asked, closing his legs and lifting his knees to hide
himself. “It’s not like you’re seein’ it for the first time.”
Morty put a hand on SP-Morty’s bare knee and gently pushed his legs back down.
He saw the bulge twitch. “Yeah, but… Is it weird to say I think you look
attractive?”
“Ah jeez, Morty!” SP-Morty said, crossing his arms and legs. “I said that
already! And yeah, it is weird. I get it.”
SP-Morty pouted, and Morty couldn’t help but snicker. He lowered himself and
placed a kiss on SP’s erection. SP-Morty sighed, letting his head fall back on
the pillow.
Morty watched his clone with puppy-dog eyes as he tugged down the waistband of
his underwear, revealing a hard and eager cock. Once more, SP-Morty lifted off
the bed to let Morty disrobe him, pulling the briefs off his legs and tossing
them to the floor with the pants. Now SP-Morty was crossing his legs against
the cold exposure, but his erection was anything but shy, lying hard and ruddy,
twitching off his belly.
SP-Morty turned his face into the pillow, goosebumps rising across his body as
he watched the other Morty inspect him. Morty’s face was bold with focus,
almost calculating in how he looked him up and down. He hadn’t known that a
Morty could appear so stoic.
For his part, Morty was awestricken to find himself so appealing. His clone was
now worrying his lower lip beneath his teeth and tugging at his T-shirt to
cover the head of his cock, and Morty realized with some delay that he must
have been making him nervous. After all, he’d be nervous himself even without
the staring and prolonged silence.
To break the tension, Morty looked warmly into SP’s eyes and said, “You should
see yourself.”
And SP-Morty, finding his counterpart so oddly handsome, replied, “I do.”
At that, a bashfulness of his own overcame Morty. He dropped onto SP-Morty,
burying his face in the other boy’s chest. The two fell into a fit of laughter.
SP-Morty wrapped his arms and legs around Morty, and Morty put a playful bite
over SP-Morty’s breast, pulling a squeak from the ticklish boy. SP-Morty gave a
jerk, then they settled, the weight of Morty’s torso pressed against his
clone’s erection.
The two locked eyes, and SP-Morty rutted against Morty, driving a ragged exhale
from the boy whose own member was quickly becoming uncomfortable in his jeans.
Morty slid up on the bed and adjusted his erection before pressing against SP’s
thigh. Denim grazed SP’s bare cock, and he moaned. “I want more,” he said,
barely above a whisper. Morty nodded.
The two disrobed quickly, leaving only their identical, nude bodies in the bed.
Morty straddled his clone and let his hands run over the other’s olive skin.
Fingers brushed hardened nipples, sending shudders rippling through SP-Morty,
but the clone was thinking that they’d spent enough time on foreplay, and he
wrapped his fingers around Morty’s wrists, pushing his arms down between them.
“You want me to touch you here now?” Morty asked, taking SP’s cock in his hands
and stroking delicately if not too mechanically.
SP-Morty huffed and bucked. “You’re touching yourself, Morty.”
Morty laughed at what he thought was a joke, only to have it catch in his
throat when SP’s hands wrapped around his own member.
“You’re touching yourself,” SP-Morty continued, attention falling deviously to
his hands as he worked them over Morty’s cock, “so act like it.” The velvety
pad beneath his thumb slipped delightfully along the underside of Morty’s cock
while the tip of his thumb slid across the glans.
Morty let out a high-pitched moan, shivering as he watched SP-Morty retract one
hand and lick a thick trail over his palm. He returned the slickened hand,
pumping Morty’s shaft and making him quiver over him. “Y-y-you really know what
you’re doing.”
Not wanting to keep him waiting, Morty licked his own fingers and wrapped them
around SP’s length.
SP-Morty let out a long, wavering moan. “Hahhh, just like that. Yeaah.”
With one hand working the shaft, Morty pressed the palm of his other hand flat
against SP-Morty’s tip, grinding down on him with every pump.
Eyes slammed shut, SP-Morty cried out. Just as Morty expected. One of his
favorite tricks for himself worked wonderfully on, well, himself. SP-Morty
whined and bucked into that dizzying pressure, and Morty could feel the leaking
precum against his palm making the whole process slippery and sloppy. But when
Morty pulled his hand away to wipe off, as he would when solo, SP-Morty shook
his head and caught him by the wrist.
“Don’t want me to stop?”
SP-Morty cocked his head and lifted a brow. “Don’t get smug. You know it’s
yourself you’re beating off.” A sheen of sweat covered his brow. His cheeks
were flushed, his pupils blown. Morty couldn’t take his eyes off him. He
reached down, SP’s eyes following as he wiped the back of his hand across his
forehead.
“You’re so attractive.”
A severe blush spread up SP-Morty’s neck and over his face, and he snorted.
“You weirdo,” he said, reaching up to wrap his arms around Morty’s neck. They
laughed, SP-Morty planting wet, open-mouth kisses along Morty’s neck and
shoulder.
Morty turned his head to kiss the shell of SP-Morty’s ear. Suddenly, SP-Morty
bucked up, thrusting against Morty’s hip, his cock side-by-side with Morty’s
own. Morty mewled and thrusted down. The two continued to grind and thrust
against one another, legs entwined, chests pressed together, SP-Morty burying
his whimpers in Morty’s neck while Morty panted loudly into his ear.
It wasn’t long before the two were gliding in a mix of sweat and precum. Their
hearts pounded together like a flurry of butterflies trapped between them.
Morty’s arms trembled on either side of his clone’s shoulders as he snapped his
hips. SP-Morty raked his fingers through Morty’s damp curls, tugging as a jolt
of intense pleasure shot through him. “F-feels so good,” he whined.
“Yeah,” Morty whimpered in reply, his breaths hot and wet against SP-Morty’s
ear, and when he kissed there, SP-Morty turned his head to present more of
himself. Morty took the initiative, darting his tongue out.
“Hohhh,” SP-Morty whined as Morty’s tongue explored his ear, hot, wet, and firm
as it traced the shell before diving in. SP-Morty continued to comb and tug at
Morty’s hair. The heated sensation building in his gut was begging to explode
as Morty continued to frot against him. He tongue fucked SP’s ear in time with
his thrusting cock. SP-Morty slammed his eyes shut and cried in a strained
whisper, “N-no. Not yet.”
“What?” Morty asked, nearly breathless.
With Morty having pulled away from his ear, SP-Morty rolled his head and bit
into the soft flesh at the juncture between Morty’s neck and shoulder. Morty
howled, back arching as he ground himself hard against SP-Morty. But before he
could cum, SP-Morty was pushing at his shoulders, forcing Morty off, and it was
with a pained noise that Morty turned onto his back.
“What? What?” he asked, frustration apparent. But SP-Morty ignored him, instead
sliding down on the bed and quickly taking Morty’s cock in his mouth. “Oh, fuh-
ffuck. M-Mortyyy!”
The coals of their arousal all but exploded at the sound of Morty crying his
own name. Their name. And though Morty’s own limbs went too stiff to control,
SP-Morty took a firm hold of the boy’s hips as he plunged his face into Morty’s
unruly pubes.
With the first spurt of Morty’s hot load hitting the entrance of his throat, SP
choked, quickly pulling back to take hold of the pulsing cock, pumping as he
sucked over the head. Semen filled his mouth and coated his own saliva in its
pungent flavor. Morty’s hips twitched as he shivered through his climax,
letting the waves roll through his tired frame until they finally dispelled and
allowed the boy to go limp and spent on his bed.
Pulling his lips off Morty’s cock sent one final, over-sensitive jolt through
him, but SP-Morty wasn’t through with him yet. Morty’s eyes were closed when
SP-Morty crawled over him, but when SP placed a hand on his cheek, Morty opened
his sleepy eyes and smiled.
SP-Morty kissed him. First, Morty squeaked. Then he relaxed, eyes slipping
closed once more as he covered SP’s hand with his own. Morty’s lips parted,
followed by SP’s, and with SP-Morty’s tongue came the rolling deluge of Morty’s
semen. Morty’s eyes snapped open again, but SP’s kiss was firm, his tongue
swirling the sharp and bitter taste. Morty’s eyes watered. He wanted to spit
everything out. That salty, sour flavor clung to his mouth and throat and
filled his sinuses. But then he saw SP, his lids lowered softly and cheeks
glowing. How cute, Morty thought. And this flavor, though his own, began to
develop its own appeal. He wanted to hold onto that taste. That feel of his own
tongue. That beautiful sight of his own kissing face.
Morty rose forward, kissing SP even as they sat upright, SP on his knees
between Morty’s open legs. Semen rolled down the backs of their throats and
over their chins, but they never halted. Morty reached for SP-Morty’s erection,
and SP let out a hummed yelp into his mouth when Morty began stroking with one
hand, pressing a firm palm against the head with the other.
It took no time at all for SP-Morty to cry out, shivering where he sat on his
knees while his orgasm overtook him, jizz splattering on Morty’s palm. Morty
pulled back, watching his clone’s climax. SP’s mouth gaped, his tongue still
shoved out from their kiss. His fingers bit into Morty’s thighs, his arms
flexed and tummy taut.
“So sexy,” Morty muttered as he stroked the clone through his orgasm.
SP-Morty sat dazed and panting, arms now limp at his sides, palms turned
upward, body glistening in sweat and glowing with blush. His belly expanded and
deflated steadily while his erection, glazed in cum, slowly dropped to half-
mast.
“Are you OK?” Morty asked.
SP-Morty’s eyes snapped out of their daze to meet Morty’s. “You’re really good
at this.”
A smile pulled at Morty’s lips. He reached off the bed and snatched up one of
their shirts. It didn’t matter whose. With it, he cleaned their mouths and
necks, then wiped SP’s cock clean. While Morty tossed the soiled shirt, SP-
Morty reached back, grabbing the comforter and pulling it around himself. Morty
pulled his clone to lie down with him, and once situated, both boys bundled
together beneath the blanket, Morty clasped SP’s hand in his own and said, “I
think you’re right. I think we are pretty good.”
SP-Morty laughed and tucked their hands under his chin. “Damn straight we are.”
 
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