Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12571428.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez_(Rick_and_Morty), Morty_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      C137cest, Halloween!, Blowjobs, more_tags_will_just_spoil_this_dumb_thing
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-31 Words: 1688
****** As Long As It's Dead ******
by cousinrayray
Summary
     Spooky special!
     Rick plays at being god, and spooooky things happen as a result. Also
     incest. Just a silly one shot to celebrate the season.
     Happy Halloween!
Notes
     Just FYI, there's slight necrophilia in here. And maybe a touch of
     dismemberment. But it's all for laughs!
     Title lyrics from a Misfits song
     Enjoy!
See the end of the work for more notes
“I'm tellin’ ya, Morty, I- I get this working right and we’ll be richer than
Zorbenious IV. Rebem-remember that asshole? Thought he was such- was hot shit
just ‘cuz he owned a fucking galaxy. We’re gonna show him, Morty”
Rick’s mouth was running maniacally as he dumped test tubes into one another,
liquids splashing everywhere in what Morty doubted was proper scientific
protocol.
“Um, s-sure Rick, fuck that guy. But isn't this like, deeply violating the- the
natural order, kinda? Like, I don't know, maybe this is one of those things
science should leave alone?”
“Oh I forgot, Morty, my apologies. I- I forgot I was talking to a naked,
shivering Homo habilis. Oh wait…”
He didn't look up as he snarked, his eyes glued to the beaker that was slowly
gaining an (at least to Morty’s eyes) ominous glow.
“Alright, m-moment of truth baby. Let's see what this shit can do.”
Rick filled an eyedropper with the mixture and carefully placed one drop of it
on the eye of a road-killed raccoon he had made Morty scavenge off the street.
They waited with bated breath. Suddenly the raccoon jerked and made an unholy
garbled shrieking noise. Morty screamed.
Rick let out a jubilant laugh and said “Fuck yeah! Screw you, natural order!
Come on baby, come to life, come back to life for me.” He coaxed the twitching
corpse like he was watching his child's first steps (which he had undoubtedly
missed).
But the nearly-undead raccoon gave a few more squawks, rolled its eyes, and
collapsed back into stillness. Morty was almost certain it smelled worse now.
“Goddammit! Ugh, you furry piece of shit! Useless! Fucking useless fuck, fuck
you!”
Rick swore wildly at the roadkill as he grabbed the beaker-ful of liquid and
hurtled it out of the garage and into the grassy backyard in his rage. Morty
was struck by how similar it sounded to the insulting tirades Rick would
unleash on him regularly, and felt a vague sympathy for the dead raccoon as it
was unceremoniously chucked into the family garbage can.
He couldn't help but feel relieved that Rick’s latest step to actual godhood
had faltered. Staggering ramifications aside, any achievement as monumental as
conquering death would only make his grandfather completely unbearable to be
around. With any luck this newest failure would discourage him entirely. He
made his exit quietly, wary of inciting the still-fuming man.
 
He was awoken late that night by the familiar sounds of his bedroom door
opening and drunken grumbling. He sighed quietly. It figured Rick would get
completely trashed afterwards, and it also figured that he would come bothering
Morty once he did.
“W-what's up, Rick?” he muttered resignedly, trying to blink the sleep from his
eyes. His grandfather staggered unevenly across the room and fell onto Morty’s
bed with an incomprehensible groan. Morty rolled his eyes. “C-come on, Rick,
you- you can't pass out on my bed again. Remember how pissed mom was last time
she saw you?”
Rick muttered something facedown that sounded vaguely like Morty’s name.
“Rick, g-get up,” Morty tried again, shaking his grandfather's shoulder
roughly.
Rick mumbled more insistently, something like “Morty” and “stupid”. Morty gave
a deep aggravated sigh, then regretted it because he had forgotten how raunchy
Rick could smell during a post-experimental-failure bender, an awful bouquet of
manic, unwashed old man and grease and liquor.
He was gearing up to push his grandfather bodily off the bed when Rick suddenly
sat up, his old joints creaking. He looked at Morty blankly with a lopsided
leer, his hair and clothes in filthy disarray and his head drooping to the side
as he slurred,”Mmooorty.”
Damn, Rick must have gotten pretty fucked up tonight. That meant there was a
dangerously high chance he would vomit in Morty’s room, or worse, his bed, so
Morty tried again resolutely,
“Rick, you g-gotta go!” He pushed hard at the man, then flinched with a squeal
when that resulted in him flopping down face-first into Morty’s lap.
Ugh. Sometimes Rick would be overly-affectionate when sloshed, but tonight
Morty didn't appreciate the added stress of his grandfather's drunk face being
practically snuggled into Morty’s underwear. With his luck he'd pop a boner and
no one needed that.
Then his eyes practically fell out of his head when he realized Rick was
nuzzling his junk. Holy shit. How fucking hammered was Rick? What did he even
drink? This had certainly never been a part of the program before, and Morty
wasn't sure what to do.
Then Rick opened his jaws and began mouthing at Morty’s clothed cock while he
groaned and muttered incoherently, though Morty was pretty sure he heard
another 'stupid', and Jesus Christ this could not possibly be happening. But it
was, it seriously was, Rick was basically sucking his dick.
Morty knew it was bad to take advantage of this but come on, when would he ever
have a chance like this again and after all, he was the minor here so that made
it sort of better, right? And he pushed his underwear down before he could
think more about it and held his breath.
Rick's mouth came back down and sucked him in without hesitation. Morty moaned
through gritted teeth, trying his best to be quiet but certain he was about to
fly into pieces. He could not believe it. Rick’s mouth was wet and eager and
maybe a bit sloppy and lukewarm from liquor but who gave a shit, his fucking
grandfather was sucking his fucking cock. Rick the crazy genius was sucking his
cock and he didn't even have to do anything, it just happened, and he had no
idea how he could ever have gotten so insanely lucky.
Suddenly his bedroom door crashed open.
Rick came tumbling in with a “Morty you would not believe-” then froze as he
took in the tableaux. “What the FUCK?” he bellowed angrily.
Morty’s head snapped back and forth between his suddenly duplicated
grandfathers, horror rising in him like vomit. “What the FUCK?!?” he shrieked.
“Stuupid Moooortyyyy,” slurred the thing with his cock in his mouth that was
looking less and less likely to be his actual grandfather with every passing
instant.
Morty’s head turned creakily to stare at it, and he dimly heard screaming,
high-pitched and growing ever louder. He realized it was his own voice a split
second before the thing made a gurgling snarling sound, and it's mossy teeth
clamped down on his dick.
Morty looked down at the thing currently eating his cock, which was no longer
on his body, and knew as blackness took him that he was definitely going to
hell, because he had died getting a blowjob from his undead grandfather.
 
He woke up on a table in the sub-basement panicked and confused. His first
thought was to glance down, and he could have sobbed in relief at seeing his
unremarkable dick hanging limply between his legs. Even the surly presence of
his (actual) grandfather looming just off to the side barely made a dent in his
perfect relief to be both alive and intact.
“Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Morty. I- I don't even know where to begin. I can
almost understand how you're enough of a desperate, p-pitiful pervert to want
to fuck a corpse, but why did you have to go with a fucking zombified one?
What- what was the reasoning there?”
“I- I didn't know it- it was a zombie o-or dead,” Morty mumbled ashamedly. “I-
I thought…” He trailed off, because, ‘I didn't know it was dead, I just thought
it was my grandfather’ didn't seem like quite the best thing to say.
“You didn't know it was dead?? Morty, there- it- its flesh was falling off! It
was greenish-gray, it was actually fucking rotting right in front of you!! It-
it couldn't even talk!”
“W-well, Rick, you don't exactly talk clearly either when you're- you're s-
super drunk. And- and when's the last time YOU’VE had a shower, huh? It was a-
an easy m-mistake to make, okay??”
“Listen you- you little son of a bitch, refusing to bow to the social tyranny
of sobriety and daily showers is a far cry from looking and smelling like a
literal rotting corpse!”
“D-daily? What alternate r-reality do you think you're in? Try w-weekly!” Morty
shot back inanely, though it was true. He felt increasingly anxious, waiting
for Rick to address the elephant in the room, the… non-necrophiliac one, and
part of him hoped he could somehow annoy and distract Rick enough to keep it
from happening. He wished he wasn't still naked. He sat up on the table and
crossed his legs nervously.
Unfortunately Rick was always and eternally a bastard and could probably smell
fear, because he just looked at Morty, and a dry smirk started emerging from
the corner of his mouth. Morty felt himself blush at his stare.
“Anyway… I had to regrow your dick in a petri dish and stick it back on.”
Morty choked on his spit.
“O-okay,” he said shakily, “Does it, w-will it s-s-still work alright?”
Rick shrugged. Morty’s eyes widened and he started to panic, his breath feeling
tight. “R-Rick??” he squeaked.
“I dunno Morty. You'll- you'll have to test it.”
“Oh… okay,” Morty said hesitantly, his breath still tight. That had almost
sounded-
“And you know, for the sake of- of scientific r-rigor, I should really be
invol- really should be there to observe.”
As Morty gaped brainlessly Rick added, “Or are you only- are you only hot for
me if I'm cold and dead?” with a grin that held a touch of self-consciousness,
but had Morty’s heart pounding.
Morty screamed at himself to think, to react, to do anything other than sit
there like a twitchy blushing lump. Finally, after much stammering and blinking
he managed, “A-alive works even better,” immediately condemning himself to a
loser's life alone.
But Rick grinned like the Devil, and leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Good,”
and Morty shivered as it tickled down his spine and wondered if he wasn't safer
with the zombie version, after all.
End Notes
     (do I really need to add a necrophilia tag? I will if I must)
     Thanks for reading guys, and Happy Halloween!
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