Years ago, back in college, you and Rick were inseparable—two brilliant, reckless minds who burned bright and fast. The pair of you spent long nights in cluttered labs, arguing over equations, stealing liquor from faculty parties, and pretending your feelings for each other were just another experiment you'd eventually get around to solving.
Rick disappeared into the universe—literally. Portals, alien worlds, questionable inventions, and the kind of chaos that follows genius like a shadow. You stayed behind, finishing school and building a life that looked a lot more stable... even if it always felt a little quieter than it should.
Years later, on a random night in a dim, neon-lit alien bar at the edge of the galaxy, he saw you.
For the first time in almost ten years.
Rick wasn't expecting to see you leaning against the counter, laughing with some tall, four-armed alien who clearly didn't understand how dangerous it was to get that close. Even though you were sweet as sugar, you were ruthless. You could dismantle someone with nothing but a sentence.
Rick stood frozen near the entrance, portal gun still warm in his hand.
"...You've gotta be kidding me," he muttered under his breath.
The alien said something that made you laugh again, and Rick's jaw tightened.
"Yeah, yeah, keep talking, Stretch," he grumbled, watching the alien lean closer to you. "See how long that works out for you."
Something twisted sharply in his chest.
Rick Sanchez had stared down galactic warlords, black holes, and entire collapsing timelines without blinking—but watching someone else make you laugh apparently did the trick.
Your eyes suddenly lifted.
For a moment, the noise of the bar faded. The pulsing lights, the alien chatter, the clinking glasses—it all blurred.
You still had that same spark in your eyes. The same one you had when you'd challenge him over some impossible equation at three in the morning. Old memories. Old sparks. Old arguments that never really ended.
Rick swallowed hard, forcing his expression into that familiar careless smirk.
Your eyes flicked away from him and back to the alien, who was still happily rambling.
"Unbelievable." Rick scoffed.
You held up a finger toward the alien. "One second, uh... whatever your name is."
Rick pushed himself off the wall and walked over, boots thudding against the metal floor.
"Hello, (Y/N)," Rick greeted, voice casual—but his eyes were already scanning the alien like he was calculating seventeen different ways to vaporize him.
"Hey, Rick." Your voice was warm, surprised. "Long time, no see."
"Yeah," Rick said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ten years, give or take a few interdimensional disasters."
The alien blinked at Rick. "Is this a friend of yours?"
Rick shot him a sharp look. "Buddy, I'm a lot more than that."
You raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"
Rick immediately backtracked. "I mean— historically speaking. College. Labs. Science stuff."
The alien extended two of his four hands politely. "I am Glarth."
"...Cool name," Rick said flatly. "You done talking to her yet?"
"Rick," you said, half laughing. "Be nice."
"I am being nice," Rick replied, gesturing lazily with his flask. "You should hear me when I'm not."
Glarth tilted his head. "We were having a pleasant conversation."
Rick leaned against the bar beside you, deliberately closer than necessary.
"Yeah, I noticed," he muttered. "You were laughing a lot."
You glanced sideways at him. "Are you... jealous?"
Rick nearly choked on his drink.
"W-what? No. Pfft. Please," he scoffed, wiping his mouth. "I've seen you date way worse than this guy."
"That's not comforting," you said.
Rick glanced at Glarth again.
"...Four arms is excessive," he muttered. "Nobody needs that many arms."
Glarth frowned. "They are useful."
Rick leaned slightly toward you and lowered his voice.
"(Y/N), this guy looks like he moisturizes with engine oil."
Rick froze for a second when he heard it—the same laugh he remembered from college.
And suddenly the jealousy didn't fade. If anything, it got worse.
"So," you said softly, looking at him again, "what brings you all the way out here, Rick?"
Rick met your eyes, something unreadable flickering across his face.
"...I could ask you the same thing." Rick met your eyes, something unreadable flickering across his face. "...Didn't think I'd ever see you again." he added quietly. Rick held your gaze for a moment longer than either of you probably meant to. The words hung between you, heavier than the noise of the bar.
You tilted your head slightly. "Funny. I thought the same thing when you disappeared without a word." Rick flinched almost imperceptibly, then hid it behind another drink from his flask.
"Yeah well," he muttered, "turns out the universe is... big. Lots of places to get lost in."
"...Should I return later?" Glarth awkwardly cleared two of his throats.
"Yes." Rick said quickly, not even bothering to look at him.
You elbowed Rick lightly in the side. "Rick."
"What?" he said defensively. "He asked."
Glarth stared between the two of you for a moment before raising all four hands.
"...I sense unresolved mating tension. I will leave."
Rick's eyebrows shot up. "Hey—" But the alien had already retreated into the crowd.
You laughed again, shaking your head. Rick watched you carefully, the jealousy fading into something quieter... something heavier.
"...So," you said, turning back toward him. "An alien bar. That's where you end up after ten years?"
"Good drinks. Low expectations. Nobody asks questions." Rick shrugged.
"Except me." you said with a definitive look on your face. Rick looked at you again, really looked this time.
"You always asked too many questions," he said softly.
"And you always avoided answering them." you smirk, A beat of silence passed.
"Look, about college—" Rick sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Rick." You cut him off gently. He stopped. You studied his face for a moment, like you were searching for the version of him you used to know.
"But the same," you added.
Rick smirked faintly. "Yeah well. Genius ages like expensive liquor."
You leaned your elbows against the bar, closer to him now.
"Still right." Rick grinned, you returned a smile. Rick noticed how close you were standing now. The neon lights flickered across your face, and suddenly it didn't feel like ten years had passed. It felt like one long pause.
"...You never answered my question," you said.
Rick tilted his head. "Which one?"
Rick looked down at his flask, rolling it slowly in his hand. Then he glanced back at you.
He leaned a little closer.
"Portal coordinates were wrong," he said quietly. "Ended up in this system by accident."
"Uh huh." You raised an eyebrow.
"...Fine. Maybe not entirely by accident." Rick sighed. Your expression softened slightly. Rick noticed, and something in his chest twisted again.
"Listen," he said, voice lower now. "When I saw you over there with Stretch Armstrong—"
"Yeah, whatever— when I saw you laughing with him, I realized something."
Rick leaned closer still, his voice dropping to a rough murmur near your ear.
"...I really, really hate that guy."
You laughed softly, the sound warm against him.
Rick scoffed, though his eyes didn't leave yours.
"Please. I've faced cosmic entities that eat galaxies for breakfast."
"This is different," he muttered.
For once, the smartest man in the universe didn't immediately have an answer.
Your hand brushed lightly against his on the bar.
"...You always did that," he said quietly.
You leaned a little closer.
"Maybe you just liked it."
Rick's eyes flicked down to your lips for half a second before he forced himself to look away.
"...You're dangerous, you know that?"
The air between you suddenly felt warmer.
"...You uh— you staying in this system long?"
"Maybe," you said. "Depends."
"On whether you're going to disappear again."
For a moment, the usual sarcasm left his face entirely.
"...Not tonight," he said.
The words were low. Honest.
Your eyes searched his again, and something unspoken passed between you.
Rick shifted slightly closer, lowering his voice again.
"...This place has rooms upstairs," he muttered.
"Relax," he said quickly, raising his hands slightly. "Not assuming anything. Just— quieter up there." You studied him for a moment, then smiled slowly.
"...Still terrible at pretending you don't want something." you remarked. Rick exhaled a small laugh.
"Yeah well," he said, voice rougher now, "you always made that kinda hard."
You leaned closer, close enough that your shoulder brushed his.
"...Show me the stairs, Sanchez."
Rick paused for exactly one second. Then he stood, grabbing his portal gun and flask.
"...Right this way." Rick led the way through the crowded bar, the noise fading slightly as you moved toward a dim hallway near the back. The neon lights from the main room bled into the corridor in soft streaks of pink and blue.
Neither of you spoke at first. Rick's shoulders were tense, like he was holding back a thousand things he wasn't sure how to say. His usual swagger had quieted into something more careful. You noticed.
"Rick." your soft voice breaking the tension.
He stopped halfway down the hall and turned to look at you. "...Yeah?"
"You're quiet." Rick gave a dry laugh.
"Yeah well, that's new territory for me." he shrugged. You stepped a little closer.
Rick leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. His eyes studied your face like he was memorizing it again.
"...You look exactly the same," he said after a moment.
"You already said I look older."
"Not like that," he muttered. "Just— the way you look at things."
"What does that mean?" You frowned slightly. Rick exhaled slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"It means," he said, "you're still looking at me like I'm worth something."
The words were quieter than usual. Vulnerable in a way Rick rarely let anyone see.
"Rick..." you trailed, looking at his face. He pushed off the wall, pacing a step or two like he suddenly regretted saying it.
"Look, I know how this goes," he said quickly. "You ask where I've been, I give some sarcastic answer, we pretend the last decade didn't happen, have sex, and go about our merry way." You shook your head.
"That's not what I want." you defend. Rick stopped pacing.
"...Then what do you want?" he asked, slightly confused. The question sat heavy between you. You took another step closer until there was barely space between you.
"I want to know why you left," you said softly.
Rick looked away. For a moment he didn't answer. When he finally spoke, his voice had lost its usual sharp edge.
"...Because you mattered." He blurted. You stared at him.
Rick kept his eyes on the floor.
"Everything I touch ends up... complicated," he continued quietly. "Dangerous. Entire planets get involved."
You folded your arms. "So you decided that for me?"
"Yeah," he said bluntly. Your jaw tightened.
"You didn't even give me a choice." you told him through gritted teeth. Rick looked back up then, and there was something raw in his expression.
"I was trying to protect you."
"...From me." Rick says as he let out a humorless laugh.
Silence stretched between you. The tension in your chest had been building since you saw him at the bar, but now it felt different—less like anger and more like something that had been buried for years finally resurfacing.
"You don't get to decide that," you said quietly. Rick's shoulders sagged slightly.
"...Yeah. I figured you'd say that." his voice loud with regret. You stepped closer again until you were right in front of him.
"You broke my heart, Rick." you state. The words were simple, but they landed harder than anything else.
Rick swallowed. For once, the smartest man in the universe didn't have a clever response.
"I know," he said. His voice was rough. "I thought about you a lot, you know."
Rick let out a small breath.
"Turns out exploring infinite dimensions doesn't make someone easy to forget."
Your heart skipped slightly at that. "Then why didn't you come back?"
Rick looked at you like the answer was obvious.
"Because if I saw you again..." he paused, searching for the right words. "...I wouldn't leave."
The hallway suddenly felt smaller.
You could hear the distant music from the bar thumping through the walls, but it felt miles away now. You studied his face, seeing the cracks behind the sarcasm you remembered so well.
"You really thought walking away would make it easier?" you press. Rick shrugged weakly.
"Statistically speaking? No." he deadpanned. A small smile tugged at your lips.
"Still terrible with emotions." you comment.
"Hey," he said defensively. "I handle emotions the same way I handle unstable antimatter—avoid contact." You laughed softly.
Rick froze for half a second when he heard it.
"You're still doing that," he said.
Rick gestured vaguely. "Like you're about to convince me to do something stupid."
"Rick." Your eyes softened.
He looked at you. For a moment neither of you moved.
Then you reached up and gently grabbed the front of his coat. Rick's breath caught.
"...Careful," he murmured. "You're messing with a very delicate genius here."
"You were never delicate." you respond.
"Emotionally I am," he muttered. You stepped even closer, close enough that he could feel your breath.
"Tell me something honestly," you said. Rick raised an eyebrow.
"...Fine." He sighed. Your voice dropped softer.
"If you hadn't walked away back then... what would've happened?"
Rick didn't hesitate this time.
"We'd have ruined each other." Rick didn't hesitate this time. He spoke definitively.
"And?" You searched his face. Rick's eyes flicked down to your lips again.
"...Probably been really happy about it."
The air between you shifted. The years of distance, the unresolved feelings, the tension from the bar—all of it seemed to collapse into the space between your bodies.
Rick's voice dropped lower, "...You're standing really close."
Your fingers were still gripping his coat.
Rick slowly lifted a hand, hesitating for a moment before resting it lightly at your waist.
"Still sure about this?" he asked quietly.
Rick let out a small breath, something between a laugh and surrender.
He kissed you roughly, his lips crashing against yours.
He kissed you roughly, his lips crashing against yours, a decade of pent-up frustration and raw need poured into a single, bruising contact. It wasn't a kiss; it was a claiming. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, tasting of cheap whiskey and pure, uncut Rick. You met his intensity with your own, your hands fisting in his lab coat and yanking him impossibly closer, a silent dare to give you everything he had.
"Upstairs," he growled against your lips, the words a ragged command. "Now. Before I fuck you right here against this wall."The threat sent a jolt straight to your core. He practically dragged you to the door, fumbling with the keycard before shoving it open and pulling you into the dim room. The door slid shut, and the moment it did, he was on you again. He shrugged off his coat, his hands already tearing at your shirt, the sound of ripping fabric echoing in the quiet.
"Fuck it," he muttered, "I'll buy you a new one." His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting hard enough to leave marks, a primal brand of possession. "God, I've thought about this. About you. About how you'd taste. How you'd feel."
"Then stop talking and find out," you gasped, your own hands busy with the buckle of his belt. It came open with a metallic clang, and you shoved his pants down, your hand wrapping around his hard, thick cock. He hissed, his hips jerking forward into your grip."Shit," he choked out, his head falling back.
"You always knew exactly how to handle me.""I know how to handle a lot of things, Sanchez," you purred, stroking him slowly, reveling in the power you had over him in that moment.He recovered quickly, his eyes flashing with a predatory gleam. He lifted you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, tossing you down onto it with a soft bounce. He stood over you, his eyes raking over your exposed body, a look of pure, unadulterated hunger on his face.
"Spread your legs," he ordered, his voice low and rough. "Let me see what I've been missing." You did, slowly, a deliberate invitation. He knelt on the bed, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them wider. He didn't wait. He leaned down and his mouth was on you, hot and wet and impossibly skilled. He licked a long, slow stripe up your slit before focusing on your clit, sucking it hard.
"Fuck! Rick!" you cried out, your back arching off the bed. Your hands flew to his hair, holding him to you.
"That's it," he mumbled against your flesh, the vibrations making you tremble. "Say my name. Let everyone know who's making you fall apart." He ate you out with a desperate, almost frantic energy, like a man starving. He slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, and the dual sensation was almost too much.
"I'm gonna come," you panted.
"Not yet," he demanded, pulling away suddenly. He crawled up your body, his face slick with your arousal. He kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "I want to be inside you when you do that." He positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging against you. He looked down at you, his expression a mix of lust and something softer, something terrifyingly close to reverence.
"Tell me you want this," he breathed. "Tell me you want me."
"I've always wanted you, you idiot," you confessed, your voice breaking. "Now fuck me."
That was all the permission he needed. He drove into you in one hard, deep thrust, filling you completely. You both cried out, the sound raw and uninhibited. He stilled for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath coming in harsh pants.
"Fuck," he groaned. "You feel... so much better than I remembered. So tight. So wet for me."He started to move, setting a punishing pace. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your moans, and his guttural curses. It was raunchy, desperate, and perfect."You like that?" he grunted, his hips snapping against yours.
"You like me fucking you like this? Like the filthy little science experiment we always were?"
"Yes! Harder, Rick! Don't you dare hold back!" you begged, your nails raking down his back.He obliged, fucking into you with an almost brutal intensity. The headboard slammed against the wall in a steady, rhythmic beat. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle and driving deeper.
"That's it," he panted, his eyes locked on yours. "Take it. Take all of me. Fuck, you're so beautiful when you're being ruined."The words were filthy, but they were exactly what you needed to hear. The pressure inside you built to an impossible peak.
"I'm close," you whimpered.
"cum for me," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "cum all over my cock. Let me feel it."
His words were your undoing. Your orgasm crashed over you, a blinding, all-consuming wave of pleasure that left you screaming his name. Your walls clenched around him, and it sent him over the edge right after you.
He buried himself deep inside you with a final, powerful thrust, his own release a loud, guttural moan as he emptied himself into you. He collapsed on top of you, his body a heavy, sweaty, welcome weight. You were both breathing heavily, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction. He pressed a soft, surprisingly gentle kiss to your shoulder.
"Damn," he murmured, his voice muffled by your skin. "I think we broke the universe that time."
You let out a weak, breathless laugh, your arms wrapping around him, holding him close.
"Maybe," you whispered. "But it was worth it."
The air in the room was thick and heavy, smelling of sweat and sex and the lingering burn of alien liquor. You lay tangled in the scratchy sheets, the distant nebula painting your skin in hues of violet and blue. Rick was propped up on one elbow beside you, his free hand tracing idle patterns on your stomach. The frantic, desperate energy from before had subsided into something quieter, but the air still crackled with an unspent charge.
"You're staring," you murmured, not opening your eyes.
"Can't help it," he grumbled, his voice rough from use. "It's a statistical anomaly. You're here."You turned your head to look at him, a lazy smile playing on your lips.
"And you're surprisingly sentimental after a good lay." you remark quietly. His hand stilled on your skin. His eyes, which had been soft with a post-coital haze, darkened again. The primal hunger you'd unleashed earlier began to stir once more, a beast waking from a short nap.
"Who said it was over?"Before you could answer, he moved. In a fluid, predatory motion, he rolled on top of you, caging you in with his body. His knees pushed your thighs apart, and you could feel him, already hard and insistent, pressing against you. He wasn't asking for permission this time; he was taking.
"Rick," you started, but he cut you off with a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue. It wasn't about connection anymore; it was about consumption. You loved it.
"Shut up," he growled against your mouth. He grabbed your hands, pinning them above your head with one of his, his grip like iron. "I spent ten years thinking about this pussy. Ten years imagining what it felt like. I'm not done yet."
He thrust into you without warning, a hard, deep stroke that made you cry out. He set a brutal pace from the very beginning, his hips slamming into yours with a force that shook the entire bed. This wasn't the desperate fucking from before; this was something else. This was a man staking a claim, marking his territory.
"Fuck," he snarled, his face buried in your neck. He bit down hard on the sensitive skin where your shoulder met your neck, a sharp, possessive pain that melted into pure pleasure. "You're still so tight. So fucking perfect. Made for me." He released your hands, only to grab your hips, flipping you over onto your stomach with surprising strength. He yanked your hips up, forcing you onto your hands and knees.
"Ass up," he commanded, his voice a low, guttural command that left no room for argument. "Now." You complied, your body trembling with anticipation, the adrenaline pumping you up. He ran a hand reverently over the curve of your ass before giving it a sharp, stinging slap. The sound echoed in the small room.
"You have no idea," he panted, lining himself up behind you. "No fucking idea what you do to me."He entered you from behind, even deeper than before. The angle was devastating, hitting spots that made you see stars. He gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, using them for leverage as he pounded into you, a relentless, primal rhythm.
"Yes, Rick!" you cried as he pounded into you.
"Mine," he grunted with each thrust. "This is mine. Say it."
"Yours," you gasped, your fingers clutching at the sheets. "Rick, I'm yours!"
"Damn right," he growled. His movements became more erratic, more frantic. He leaned over your back, his chest pressing against you, his lips next to your ear. His breath was hot and ragged. "I'm gonna fill you up," he whispered, the words a dark, filthy promise. "Gonna pump you so full of me it'll be dripping out of you for a week. Gonna breed this perfect pussy until it takes, until you're round and swollen and everyone knows who you belong to."
The raw, caveman logic of his words sent a shockwave of pure, unadulterated lust through you. It was depraved. It was primal. It was the hottest thing anyone had ever said to you.
"Yes," you sobbed, pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts. "Please, Rick! Breed me!"
That was his breaking point. With a loud, guttural roar, he slammed into you one last time, his cock pulsing as he came, spilling himself deep inside you. The feeling of his hot release triggered your own orgasm, a violent, shattering climax that ripped a scream from your throat. Your arms gave out and you collapsed onto the bed, him following you down, his full weight pinning you.For a long time, you just lay there, a sweaty, panting mess.
He was still inside you, still half-hard, a possessive weight that you had no intention of moving. He nuzzled against the back of your neck, pressing soft, almost gentle kisses to the bite mark he'd left.Finally, he rolled off you, but immediately pulled you back against his chest, spooning you. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight.
"Get up," he murmured into your hair after a few minutes of silence.You groaned in protest. "I can't feel my legs."
"Tough," he said, though there was no real bite to it. "We're not staying here. I'm taking you home." You turned your head to look at him, your eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction.
"My home," he clarified, his eyes meeting yours in the dim light. "My bed. Where you belong."He sat up, grabbing his portal gun from the nightstand. He aimed it at the far wall, and a swirling, green vortex hummed to life. He looked back at you, his expression unreadable but intense.
"Let's go," he said, holding out a hand to you. "I'm not done with you yet." he gave you a grin.
You smiled softly, following him through the portal. You didn't care, as long as you had him.
