Chapter Text
Ok. So…
When exactly did it become such a nuisance?
The feeling went through countless variations throughout the years. Would it be possible to pinpoint the precise moment it actually started?
Or at least when it got painful?
Oh yeah.
He knows exactly when it got real painful. Even thinking about it pisses him off. But it's not Birdperson who he's pissed at, he can only blame himself.
It was remarkably stupid, uncharacteristically so, even. He got sooo caught up in the moment. He let his guard down. But not in a cliché I'm-a-tough-guy way. In an unadjusted-sad-man-who-lives-in-a-fantasyland way.
He just… didn't get it right.
Managed to make his point in the worst possible way. Got high on the adrenaline and just vomited the words out without thinking. He should have explained it. Instead, he got so fucking excited about the Nature of the Multiverse, he presented himself as an unfeeling douche, contradicting himself on top of everything. Disgusting… He shouldn't really blame BP.
But it did hurt as hell to be rejected.
The relationship that we have…
Jesus Christ…
The final rays of the sun are creeping into the garage. The distant sound of sprinklers breaks the silence of the suburban evening as Rick looks down at the Mindblower gun in his hand, lost in thought.
It started so inconspicuously.
It was so easy to get sucked into this vortex. It took years before he even reflected on it for the first time. For the first years it just…
was what it was.
Maybe that's the point when he first noticed any tension? Attraction?
When was that?
At the beginning it was just vibes and fun. Everything was so easy and natural. Effortless. BP was down for whatever, accepting every chaotic and crazy idea in his stoic and collected manner. That was what made it so magnetic, right? They'd always been in perfect sync. From day one, whether it was getting absolutely fucked on a selection of exotic drugs, revenge missions, epic battles, performing as The Flesh Curtains, or picking up nameless fans after the show. Maybe that's why he allowed himself to get sucked into it.
Everything was in sync. They were always on the same page.
Until that one time, they so weren't.
But he's not willing to get rid of The Flesh Curtains memories. Those are precious. Probably what kept him from killing himself after Diane. Although it wasn't just about drugs, music, or sex. Not exactly.
Was it about BP rarely saying no? Is Rick this unredeemably fucked up? That he fell in love with a guy just because he wanted to do whatever Rick did? Was he his special, perfect follower, a spectator and willing participant in every idiotic, fucked-up thing Rick thought of? Was that all it was?
It was great though. He was self-medicating his despair, wallowing in nihilism, giving in to every hedonistic urge. Nothing mattered and he didn't care about the consequences. He needed that. It was the only way to cope, the only way to feel anything. And having a partner in crime who was always down to clown was just perfect.
And the tension? When did he notice it? It had to be during one of their frequent sexcapades after the show, he's pretty sure of that. They pushed and pushed the boundaries until having threesomes became an almost nightly occurrence.
It wasn't there right from the start, when they were just two bandmates picking up fans after the show to take to their rooms.
Was it there when they stopped bothering with separate rooms? It had to be there when they fucked one person together for the first time. It had to be that tension that made them do that, time and time again, right?
And he does remember well the exact moment when he got completely lost in this for the first time. Those memories will haunt him forever. Seeing BP's eyes when he accidentally discovered how receptive Rick was to moans sounding around his dick.
Sharing an alien between them, Rick's cock in their mouth and BP fucking them from behind, was their usual shtick.
But that night BP did something especially right,
or maybe their partner was especially vocal,
and the moan lasted especially long,
and Rick cried out especially loudly.
Right there, he felt pierced by BP's gaze, drilling holes into his skull. His face was almost expressionless, as always, but there was a storm going on in BP's eyes, pupils so blown out Rick could almost see his own reflection. BP locked onto him like a hunter and didn't break eye contact until Rick came undone hard enough to see the stars.
The first time it happened he was a bit surprised. The next time he made sure to give BP the show of his life.
Up until then it was kinda meaningless, just one of the stupid fun things they did just because.
Maybe that's the moment. They basically started fucking by proxy ever since then. They never spoke a word about it, but BP was definitely getting off on pleasuring the third participant for the sole purpose of making them moan around Rick, making him come harder. And Rick made sure to go the extra mile with the performance.
Probably the boundary they shouldn't have crossed.
If he'd mind-blow all this and everything after, he'd have to get rid of some of the most epic shit he'd ever done, along with the battles they had. He wouldn't want to get rid of that.
So not here.
Not yet.
Just before they kissed? He must have had feelings already, but maybe it still wasn't an all-consuming obsession?
Bepis 9 War? Their first real, big battle.
It really went bad. Nothing was going according to plan. They barely made it out alive, yet somehow they won.
And the adrenaline high was more powerful than any drug Rick had ever done. The synergy he had with BP in battle was remarkable. It was like they were one person, in complete unison. After it was over, aboard the ship, they crashed their lips together like their lives depended on it. Everything else ceased to exist.
If it hadn't been for Squanchy walking in on them, they'd have fucked right there, all bloody and wounded.
And Squanchy just smiled, satisfied. Little shit. Was he happy he'd prevented that, or was he happy they finally got to it?
Maybe right before then? Snip-snap, leave out just the memories where their relationship was still deniable? Just silly groupie sexcapades, back when he could pretend it wasn't about BP.
Stupid fucking bird! How was he able not to get lost in all this? How did it escape that tiny avian brain just how special it was? How easy and natural everything they'd done was?
Fucking effortless. No talking, no questioning, just doing.
There he goes again… giving in to the fantasy.
I am indeed down to clown…
It's Rick who's the clown.
There has to be a perfect moment after which everything can be amputated like a diseased limb. Before he got irreparably broken by this feeling that doesn't go away, and all the debilitating bitterness it caused.
Definitely before they fucked.
That has to be the cutoff, no way around it. There's no way he can be fine with those memories in his head. Those have to go. It was just… too good to bear.
And of course sex was just as effortless as everything else they'd done. There were no hesitations, no doubts, no need for questions. Yet the outcome was… world-shattering.
All the strangest partners they'd had before, a lot of them literally shared… Even before the late nights of The Flesh Curtains era, Rick had fucked pretty much anything compatible. Not to mention everything he'd done after, desperately chasing what they'd had together. Even with that frame of reference… nothing, nobody came even close.
They matched each other's freaks like it was bingo.
Their attraction was always connected to the adrenaline rush. It was performing that got them going. And then it was the missions and battles.
Maybe that's the point then? He'd keep the kiss, but nothing more.
That'd be before their next joint operation after Bepis 9. Rick's revenge mission, when they'd raided an asteroid hideout belonging to a small Coalition cell in search of Prime. The Coalition knew he'd come for them and was prepared quite well. The defenses only added to how epic the fight was.
How chash it was.
They hadn't spoken about the kiss since it happened, didn't even acknowledge it, but right then Rick knew exactly what was about to happen. The tension could've been cut with a knife. They didn't act on it on the spot, though.
Made it to BP's hideout in dead silence.
As soon as they entered, they were all over each other. It was like opening the floodgates.
Hands everywhere. Starved. Longing.
Being finally able to touch BP's body made his head spin. The desire that had built through all those threesome adventures hit them like a ton of bricks. Seeing BP desperate, undone, completely lost in it, like nothing Rick had ever seen before… He was just drop-dead gorgeous. And they got right to it. There was no time for foreplay.
All they'd done before was their foreplay.
This memory, of being pushed down forcefully, BP's hands desperately undoing his belt. His hungry mouth on his dick for the first time, the moan they both let out in unison, releasing the built-up lust and longing.
No way he can continue remembering that.
Those memories…
Some of the best, for sure. BP's gaze was deadly intense when there was still a third participant. But when it was just the two of them, the way he looked at Rick when they fucked… a literal supernova.
Those moments when he felt truly at peace with his sorry existence, lying in the arms of his feathered friend, coming back to reality. Feeling safe.
Ok… So maybe he could somehow dissect only the memory of Blood Ridge then, leaving everything else intact? That's the only time they ever spoke about it, any acknowledgment. That must have been the mistake. Everything before that just sorta happened.
If he would keep his resentment would his mind just assume there was a reason for it? Is it possible for him to continue existing with everything else, removing just that one moment?
But then the wedding wouldn't make any sense at all. Even with the Blood Ridge memory intact, it barely makes sense.
God, he's such an unredeemable piece of shit. That has to be one of the most twisted things he's ever felt…
The relief, when that Megabitch shot BP.
It wasn't the only thing he felt, but deep down, underneath everything else, was a glimpse of… relief.
That it's finally over.
That he's free.
Free of the hope that it's ever gonna be like it was before fucking Blood Ridge.
So maybe that's the perfect ending, right after the wedding. All the memories before stay intact, but the storyline comes to a definite end.
That may not be such a bad idea. He did learn to live with this feeling somehow by the time of the wedding. It didn't disappear, no. He just got used to it, like getting used to chronic pain, just stopped registering it after enough time. He got more bitter and irritable, sure, but that's the price.
And he did get over the death somehow. Not that it wasn't gut-wrenching and miserable, he did consider jumping dimensions. But by then he had some sort of life. It had been years since it was Rick and BP against the world. If that were the end, maybe he could endure retaining the memory of that pain.
What a despicable scumbag he must be to accept the death of Birdperson more easily than his rejection…
If that were the point, he'd never meet Phoenixperson. Or fucking Memory Rick, for that matter. How ironic that Phoenixperson went after Rick's heart with the first attack. His life truly is a joke.
And how much did his little fantasy play into the decision to take with him what remained of BP? Did he do it because it was his friend, or did he do it because he still had some hope? Is he really this fucked?
So.
Birding Manapalooza, The Flesh Curtains, Bepis 9, the Coalition raid, all the amazing sex and the epic battles stay, along with Blood Ridge.
So do the years and years of bitter regret, grief, self-loathing, and resentment.
The wedding, Phoenixperson, and Memory Rick go.
Fucking Memory Rick… His skin crawls even thinking about this pathetic, heroic, passionate, idealized caricature. The most fucked-up rendition of a funhouse mirror. In a way it was a compliment, but it did not feel good at all.
Seeing himself through BP's eyes, seeing who BP believed he fought next to, who he slept with… He felt like a fraud—he was never this person. If BP rejected that guy, his true self doesn't even compare. That's probably why he wanted to smash that false reflection's face every time it opened its mouth. It took everything he had just to stay focused on the objective and get BP the fuck out.
And then he royally fucked up with Birddaughter. There's another thing he'd prefer not to remember. It just had to be Memory Rick who first brought that up. And unsurprisingly, BP had a theory ready for why he hadn't mentioned her unprompted.
He already understood exactly how his memory and the real Rick differed.
Maybe that's the question he should find an answer to—when did BP catch up?
When exactly did BP figure out who Rick really is?
The sound of footsteps pulls him out of his thoughts as it approaches the garage door. A knock on the door echoes through the room.
"Rick, the bathroom sink was leaking again. I tried to fix it and broke everything…" Jerry's pathetic voice comes from behind the door.
"I should just kill myself instead," he thinks as he puts down the Mindblower gun, coming up with an insult.