Work Text:
See this right here, Rick? I crunched the numbers, I created a spectrum of all the Ricks. Here’s where I am. And look at right here’s where you are, Rick.
This guy right here? Super weird.
**
Evil Rick still remembered the day that he encountered him. Oddly enough, it was entirely by accident.
The carnage from killing innocent Rick’s and torturing their Morty’s never really bothered him, but the sheer effort it took was draining. There ain’t no rest for the wicked, but there is an occasional night off spent at an inconspicuous dive bar. Evil Morty and him had travelled to a pub on the edge of the universe, quintillions of lightyears away from any citadel inspection point. The perfect place for anyone who didn’t want to be found, Rick, Morty or otherwise.
The energy was dingy and dark, with eerily soft country music radiating from a worn-down jukebox. The liquor tasted awful, but slid down his throat like butter. Any other Rick had the privilege to drink whenever it pleased them, but evil intentions required discretion in every move. Any one of the working-stiff Ricks they had picked off would have stuck up their nose at the trashy liquid, opting for a whiskey curated for them by the citadel marketing team. This tasted like gasoline and piss, but drinking it represented something entirely in his control. The independence tasted good.
Evil Morty, already flushed from the quantity of alcohol interacting with his underdeveloped metabolism slumped in the stool beside him. Evil Rick pondered waking him up, but decided it was for the best that he slept. True freedom and independence was only possible without the controller of his hardware around.
Across the bar, another Rick assumed a similar position. Sprawled out on the wooden bartop, face submerged in his own vomit. He was dressed strangely, abandoning the standard Rick labcoat for a skin-tight maroon jacket that hugged his lanky frame well.
Rick prodded at his scanner, curious about the identity of the man seated across the bar from him. A laser pulse, brief buffering period and results delivery later, he had all the information he needed. His jaw went slack as he read.
Rick Prime?
A name only whispered behind closed doors and angrily searched for at the bottom of a bottle. A name that chilled every Rick to his core, even Evil Rick. To other Ricks he was an elusive creature, an abstract being of pure evil. To Evil Rick, he was a trophy.
He nudged Evil Morty beside him, waking him up from his intoxicated stupor. He blinked with heavy lids, willing himself awake. He eyed over the information on the scanner once, twice. The look they shared conveyed their exact intentions.
Evil Morty rose from his seat, leisurely walking around behind the bar. His footsteps were silent as he approached the sleeping old man. With a lightening quick reflex, he produced a glowing yellow syringe from his pocket and injected the entire contents into Prime’s lumbar region. He produced a protesting groan, then ceased breathing entirely.
*******
Every Rick had control issues, but Prime’s control issues were far more than simple micromanagement. He had fought tirelessly to domineer over every aspect of his life, and didn’t hesitate to take out anyone who got in the way, including his wife and daughter. Naturally, it was irritating to find himself restrained in a foreign facility.
He thrashed against the cuffs, but it was pointless. Whoever had captured him had pulled the power from his tech, leaving him entirely helpless to his captor. The only beings with enough intelligence to understand the workings to begin with was another Rick. He had been chased by them relentlessly since he killed their wife, but managed to evade them with ease. Until now.
“I gotta *uurp* admit,” A familiar voice rang out from behind him, “I never thought I’d track down the big guy.”
“Big guy? Don’t tell me you’re a member of the little citadel fan club, because I won’t sign a tee-shirt.” Prime taunted from the chair.
Evil Rick emerged from the darkness, and Prime noticed his distinctly different features. The deep undereye circles and dramatic mouth scar screamed ‘special’ but not in a sinister way like one would think.
“Citadel’s not quite- not really my thing.” Evil Rick muttered, toying with the settings on his control board.
He anticipated extracting information from Prime’s brain being particularly difficult, and had to set up some firewall protection. Evil Morty had specifically instructed him to wait until he returned from an adventure to interact with him, but he didn’t listen. Evil Rick knew he was more than capable of handling him on his own.
“What’s with all these little guys strapped to the outside of your dome here?” Prime nodded his head in the direction of the windows, each with a helpless Morty strapped down in agonizing pain. Their cries were audible through the soundproofing, but the sound was more annoying than off-putting.
“All these bootlicking Ricks trying to track me down,” He explained, “Get a few of these little guys up on the outside, makes me impossible to find.”
“Seems like overkill.” Prime observed with a smirk, watching the hairs on the back of Evil Rick’s neck stand.
“Could have worked well for you, asshole.” Evil Rick spat, fingers typing furiously. “Your security system didn’t look too advanced when you were drowning in a puddle of your own vomit last night.”
“Oh, is that where you found me?” Prime laughed, “I thought I got lost in the villain cliché factory. I mean seriously, isn’t a black shirt and a mouth scar a little much?”
“Shut the fuck up, you fucking prick!” Evil Rick slammed his fists down on the board. He didn’t hold the same resentment as other Ricks did towards him, but he was starting to understand the appeal of making this guy your mortal enemy.
He grabbed the cables from the docking station, his knuckles white with frustration. He stomped over to the restrained Prime, who eyed him up and down with a mocking glare. His teeth gritted as he connected the wires to Prime’s temples, relishing in the painful cries released from him.
“Y’know, I’m lucky I found you.” Evil Rick explained, “I’d have to kill a whole lot of Ricks to get the brainpower I’m gonna extract from you. Thanks for saving me the legwork.”
“Lucky isn’t the word you want to use, asshole.” Prime croaked, holding Evil Rick’s gaze in a tense stare between them.
“Ha! Yeah, what would I use instead, genius?” Evil Rick hissed back, “Fortunate? Accomplished?”
“I’d go with ‘Sorry’” Prime chuckled. With a snap of his fingers the restraints relented, and Evil Rick’s senses went dark entirely.
*******
After hours of complete darkness and sensory deprivation, Evil Rick’s vision suddenly returned. As he pried open his eyes, he took in the gory scene around him. Blood and entrails were strewn everywhere, and most of his tech was completely massacred. In the place of helpless Mortys strapped to the windows, blankets of their blood coated the glass. His jaw wanted to slack open, but he found his muscles completely immobilized.
He watched Prime emerge from a nearby room, tapping on a tablet. He was almost entirely unscathed, with the exception of a bloody eyepatch worn on his face. Had he gotten to Evil Morty?
“Look who’s awake!” He laughed, pulling up the bloody eyepatch to reveal a cocky wink. “How’s the view? I did some improvements on your cornball lair.”
Evil Rick wanted to retort, wanted to cry out in protest. He was sat on the chair he strapped Prime to, entirely naked and vulnerable. He eyed down at his exposed body, and somehow found himself humiliatingly hard.
“Someone hacked your programming while you were asleep.” He leaned against the panel, his predatory eyes eyeing up Evil Rick’s lanky frame. “Weird. You’re completely immobilized, but still look scared. Must be the shitty craftsmanship.”
Prime clicked a series of buttons on the tablet, and Evil Rick felt his arm jolt between his legs. The action wasn’t his own, and entirely in Prime’s control. He felt his hand work up and down his aching length, the stimuli lacing a terrifying situation with lust. Prime watched from the bench, not addressing the tightness in the fabric of his pants. He just watched.
The sensation was perfect, in both pressure and rhythm of the movement. A moan pulled behind his lips, unable to escape with the immobilization of his vocal cords. The tension built in his core, bringing him closer to the edge. As much as he hated to admit it, the feeling of relinquishing control completely felt dirty and wrong, but so good. He reached the tipping point, his abdomen tightening as he felt himself near the edge.
At that moment, his hand pulled away from his throbbing cock. It twitched, and the lack of friction felt like a deep ache in his core. He watched Prime burst out in laughter, his hand running through his hair as he threw his head back in amusement. He waited until the wave of pleasure had subsided entirely, then made him stroke himself once more. He built Evil Rick’s pleasure to the edge again, before rescinding it entirely.
The amusement didn’t subside to Prime over the following hours. Each time he edged the helpless Rick in the chair, it somehow got funnier to him. It was all the pleasure of edging himself with none of the sexual frustration of orgasm denial. The sight of him there, paralyzed and surrendering entirely to his every whim was erotic.
After dozens of repeats of the agonizing rise and fall, Prime watched as tears began to stream from the captive Rick’s eyes. They mixed with the slick sweat on his skin, dripping down his neck and heaving chest. Prime’s jaw went slack at the sight, and felt his own hardness grow impossible to not care for.
“Are you.. are you fucking crying?” Prime chuckled, updating Evil Rick’s autonomy permissions on the tablet to allow him to speak back.
“Please.. Just-Just please..” He whimpered, eager for release. “I want it so fucking bad..just let me c-come Prime, please.”
Prime couldn’t believe it. In just a couple of hours, he had toppled the ego of the only Rick able to capture him. He turned him into a whining, eager mess for him. Prime unzipped his jeans, releasing his own erection and taking it in his palm. He strided over to the chair where his defenceless Rick sat, maintaining eye contact with his pleading gaze.
Prime straddled him there, feeling the wetness of the sweat-soaked man beneath him. Evil Rick’s nerves fired at the warm sensation, his eager dick twitching. Prime used one hand to steady himself on the armrest, the other to take both of their lengths in his grasp.
Eyes squeezing shut with pleasure, he began to work them up and down. Prime pushed his ear into Evil Rick’s mouth, his pleasure only growing with the sound of his groans. He stroked faster, only then realizing how excited he was to release the pressure that built between his thighs. As he grew closer, he listened to the symphony of Evil Rick’s depraved moans.
“God, Prime” A breathy whisper escaped his lips, “I’m sorry.. please, I’m begging you…”
“You’re going to need to beg harder than that, bitch.” Prime groaned, sinking his teeth into the side of Rick’s neck beneath him.
He pulled his hand from Evil Rick’s length, lifting his hips to bring his cock inches from his face. He cried out as he stroked faster, and glanced down at the pathetic expression Evil Rick gave him. Something about the furrow of his brow, or his open panting mouth sent Prime over the edge, cum streaming from his length over Evil Rick’s face.
The impact of the watery burst hits his eye first, streaming down and pooling in his gaping mouth. The warm pool of slightly bitter liquid coated his tongue. Mind subdued with submission, he obediently closed his lips and swallowed his essence down without Prime instructing his hardware to do so.
The sight of him spurred Prime onwards, who swiftly demounted the groaning man beneath him. He grasped Evil Rick’s angular hips, flipping him over to kneel against the sweat-slicked leather chair. He tapped quickly on the tablet beside him, relinquishing all musculature control back to Evil Rick. Prime wanted to see the raw, genuine response he could pull from his body.
Most Ricks had augmentation on their dicks, but Prime’s adjustments were top-of-the-line. He added a zero-cooldown period between orgasms, and a vibrating core to coax the most pleasure out of him and his partner possible.
He used his knees to gently part Evil Rick’s legs farther, and a firm hand to position him into a deeper arch. Prime spat at the tight ring of muscle, gently using his thumb to warm the area. Rick was already prepared, muttering profanities and pleas for release as he bit into the chair. The opening relaxed instantly, his body eagerly awaiting Prime’s entrance.
Prime aligned his vibrating erection with his entrance, feeling Evil Rick groan as he felt the wet warm contact. He coaxed the tip past the entrance, feeling the tight, twitching walls. Evil Rick bucked his hips backwards, greedily swallowing more of his length.
“God, your body needs it so fucking bad.” A long, guttural moan escaped Prime’s lips as he let the man beneath him envelop more and more of his cock. “What would Diane say if she was alive to see you grinding on me like this?”
He kept his hips as still as he could, watching the desperate display of Evil Rick beneath him. His words didn’t phase Rick in the slightest, who maintained his steadily increasing rhythm. Prime relished in the idea that he had intoxicated someone, especially someone as difficult as himself, to the point of complete brainwashed submission.
He leaned forward, using both of his hands to wrap around the aching length of Evil Rick beneath him. Prime slid them up and down in perfect time with his strokes, coaxing the man impossibly closer to his release. He knew there was a key element missing from Rick’s stimuli preventing him from reaching over the edge.
“Christ, you’re such a fucking slut for it.” He grunted into Evil Rick’s ear, “C’mon. Show me how good you can come for me.”
With the explicit permission, Evil Rick felt a release that extended beyond his body. Every nerve in his body was on fire, burning with pleasure. His come shot out of him, splattering against the chair beneath and coating Prime’s fingers, still working up and down his cock. He whined and groaned in a series of increasingly pathetic cries. The melody of his noises sent Prime past his breaking point, emptying himself entirely into his hole. The liquid spilled out of the tight entrance, dripping down his shaking legs.
The pair of them stood here, together at this point in the universe for a moment. Basking in the sheer intensity of the experience, and recollecting themselves in the afterglow.
The memory of it was blurry, but would burn into Evil Rick’s brain and arise anytime he craved a release like that. In the events that followed, he prayed to accidentally capture him again so that he could turn him into the babbling, whining mess that Prime induced in him.