Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5214515.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez, Morty_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      Dirty_Talk, Language_Kink, Masturbating, rick_hates_himself, Sad_Ending
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-11-15 Words: 8207
****** De Ahora en Adelante ******
by a_side_of_sin
Summary
     Rick needs Morty to learn Spanish. Morty’s got a language kink. This
     one’ll hurt you, fair warning! Everybody sins.
“CORRE MORTY HIJUEPUTA O ESA COSA NOSEQUÉ SE NOS VA A COMER!!!![1]” Rick was
practically shrieking as he tore off in the direction of the ship, under the
assumption that Morty was following him. When he realized his grandson was
lagging several paces behind, he groaned, turned back, and yanked the teenager
along with him until he was finally able to toss him into the car. The fanged
alien monster that had been pursuing them was closing in, so instead of running
around the machine, he just followed Morty in through his door and hauled it
shut behind him. He clambered over his grandson to get to the driver’s seat,
and slumped back in his chair. As he started the engine, he looked over at his
grandson and sighed.
 
“F-fuck, Morty, y-y-you, you have really got to learn SpaURRRPPP, Spanish,
Morty.”
 
---
 
The next semester at school, Morty enrolled in Spanish I. He was sick of Rick
yelling directions at him in a language he didn’t know, and then having the
nerve to be offended when Morty didn’t get it. Rick had scoffed at the idea.
“Y-you’re not going to learn, to learn shiUURRGHHHt in that class, M-Morty.”
But Morty was equal parts determined to prove his grandfather wrong and to earn
the older man’s praise. Not to mention he had every intention of eavesdropping
on Rick and his mom on the occasional night that they sat around and got drunk
together. He was going to crack their secret language.
 
Morty had done fine with the basics – letters, numbers, colors, foods, and so
on. Matching gender and number on adjectives had given him a little bit of
trouble, but for the most part he held out okay, until they started in on
verbs. The conjugations just weren’t sticking in his head, no matter how many
hours he spent on the topic. As for irregular verbs, well, he preferred to
pretend that they just didn’t exist.
 
He sat at his desk, head in his hands and eyes closed, muttering conjugations
to himself, to see if he could remember them without looking at his notes. “Y-
y-yo como, tú comes, él come, usted… u-u-usted… usted…[2] f-fuck…” He hadn’t
heard Rick slip into his room, hadn’t noticed when his grandfather had closed
the door behind him. He collapsed on Morty’s bed and took a pull from his
flask. “Usted come. W-well, I guess I could fuck you, too, M-morty, but I’d
hate to be a distraction.” Morty’s eyes flew open as he nearly shot out of his
seat, and he scowled at Rick as the man made himself comfortable.
 
“G-get out, Rick. I-I-I, I’m trying to study here.” Morty normally did a pretty
god job of burying his perverted feelings for Rick, but with Rick stretched out
on his bed, talking about fucking him… He needed to get his grandpa out of the
room or he would never be able to focus on what he was doing. “Nah, Morty, th-
that’s w-why I’m here. I’m goURRRGHHnna help you, Morty. See, I realized it
would be, it would be pretty useful if y-you could actually follow directions
w-when, when we’re on adventures and stuff. So I’m gonna make sure y-y-you,
that you learn Spanish.”
 
‘Fuck,’ Morty swore internally.It was bad enough that he would have to put up
with Rick making fun of him for every tiny mistake. But listening to the man
speak Spanish to him? That would be torture. Morty didn’t think Rick had
noticed yet, but every time he heard his grandfather speaking his native
language, he worried the man would catch on to his sick little crush. The bulge
in his pants was bound to give him away at some point. Morty had just hoped to
avoid it for as long as possible. He knew the teasing would be merciless once
Rick realized what was going on. And it was almost a certainty that he would
figure it out eventually, especially if he had decided that he was going to be
Morty’s personal Spanish tutor. Morty had to nip this in the bud now. “M-man,
Rick, I-I-I don’t want your help. Just l-leave me alone, o-okay?”
 
“No can do, chief. Tienes que aprender. W-where did you, did you leave
oURRRPPPff? Oh, oh yeah. Nosotros comemos, vosotros coméis, ellos comen.[3] I’m
a-assuming those idiots are, are m-making y-y-you, are forcing you to learn
vosotros, r-right Morty?” Morty sighed as Rick swiped his textbook off the desk
and launched into what sounded like a complicated explanation of formal versus
informal and why he shouldn’t even bother with vosotros. He was so fucked.
 
---
 
To the shock of both, Morty not only passed his final exam, but managed an A-
in the class. Of course, they were astonished for very different reasons. Rick
didn’t think Morty was that good (“W-w-what did they, did, w-what was even on
that test? Gato? Perro? Por favor?[4]”), and as for Morty, he was surprised he
had retained anything at all. Given that he was constantly only able to devote
half his attention to his studies, and had to focus the other half on not
letting his stiffy get too noticeable, Morty thought his grade had to be some
kind of miracle.
 
“Aww jeez, R-rick, no, no fue tan fácil[5]. M-man, am I glad I-I get the summer
off. Th-three wh-whole months of no irregular verbs.” The moment he said it, he
watched Rick’s eyes narrow, and he wished he could suck the words back into his
mouth. He could already see the gears turning in Rick’s brain. So much for
summer break. Morty figured it would be study sessions and lectures at least
part of every day for the next twelve weeks. And here he’d thought he could
give his poor teenage libido a chance to let go of its filthy fixation on his
grandfather.
 
It didn’t surprise him at all when thoughts of the older man filled his head
that night, mental images of Rick growling at him in Spanish, causing him to
buck up into his hand. Morty imagined Rick’s arms around him, thought about
throwing his head back and meeting Rick’s shoulder, and Rick murmuring filth to
him, ‘Eres un un niño muy bueno para tu abuelo, M-morty…[6]’ Morty’s muscles
jerked as he spilled onto his stomach, and he groaned. What a life.
 
The next morning came in the form of a rude awakening from Rick, who dropped
something on Morty’s legs shortly after the sun had risen. Morty groaned, and
automatically tried to shy away from whatever Rick had dropped on him. He had
not forgotten the time his grandfather had done this with a large alien spider.
“It, it’s n-not a tarantula, Morty.” Rick had clearly followed his train of
thought, and snickered. “Es un regalo. Ábrelo.[7]”
 
‘Jeez, it’s too early for this,’ Morty thought. He was tempted to tell Rick to
fuck right off, but he could see from the manic gleam in the man’s eyes that
there was no point. “I know abre, but what’s ábrelo again?” The teenager tried
to think, but it was the first day of summer break and he just really wasn’t
feeling it.
 
“Context clues, M-morty, jesus christ. O-o-oURRRRRPPPpen it.” Rick was already
drinking this morning, and he pulled his flask out for a swig, before shaking
it to find it empty. Morty didn’t find it unusual that it was 8:00 AM and his
grandfather needed a refill. Hell, he had probably been up all night working on
some crazy scheme to make Morty fluent in Spanish. Morty just hoped it wouldn’t
be anything too weird. He reached for the brown paper bag that had fallen
amongst his blankets and upended it. A red paperback book fell out into his
lap, and Morty had to bite back a sigh. What did Rick want him to do with a
Spanish-English dictionary?
 
“O-okay Morty, h-here, here’s the deal. De ahora en adelante, no vamos a hablar
en inglés… hasta que terminen tus vacaciones de verano. Yo no te voy a decir ni
una palabra que no sea en español, ni te voy a contestar si me dices algo en
inglés. Si hay alguna palabra que no conURRRPPP, que no conoces, búscala en tu
diccionario. Me entiendes?[8]”
 
So much for the morning wood Morty had been working to get rid of. He shifted,
trying to eliminate the tent he was creating in the bedsheets, and tried to
translate what Rick had just said. “W-wait. W-w-w-wait, w-wait, did you, did
you just say no English? W-what, Rick, how are we going to do, to do th-that
without, w-w-w-without me getting killed? I can’t be l-l-l-, I can’t be looking
at a dictionary w-when we’re running away from monsters and shit!”
 
Rick kept his gaze trained on Morty, but said nothing. He reached for his
flask, before remembering it was empty and returning it to its pocket. He let
out a belch as he fished around in an inner pocket for his spare, and took a
long drink of something foul once he found it. At no point did he look away
from his grandson, but he didn’t answer him either. Finally, he watched Morty
start to flip through the dictionary, scowling, searching for what he wanted to
tell Rick. The boy stopped and scanned a page, then paused for a moment. Rick
figured he was trying to conjugate in his head.
 
“Te jodes[9], Rick.”
 
Rick actually laughed out loud, and his gaze happened to fall on Morty’s
crotch. He laughed again, and waved a hand at the teenager’s erection. “Te
gustaría eso, no, Morty?” Another chuckle, and he smirked at his grandson’s
shame. “Vete a bañar, haz lo que tienes que hacer con eso, y después nos vamos
para Blips and Chitz. Me parece un buen día para vencerte en R-rURRRPPPPoy.”
[10]
 
---
 
June saw Morty with his nose glued to the dictionary. Rick had obviously been
listening to Morty in his room on the first day of break, because he had kept
their adventures simple and non-life-threatening. Mostly they just ran errands.
Toward the end of the month, Rick threw Morty’s door open one night and
hollered, “Vamos, Morty, necesito algo de la casa de empeños y voy a ocupar
otro par de manos[11].”
 
Morty knew by that point that casa de empeñosmeant pawn shop, and he knew that
pawn shop meant boring, but it was still better than sitting in his room
staring at the ceiling. That particular way to pass the time almost always
ended with a hand around his dick and an imagined echo of “Dámelo[12], M-
morty…” in his ear. If he had thought that he could become desensitized to his
apparent grandpa fetish over time, he was wrong. But at least when he was with
the man, he was usually forced to focus on something other than just how horny
he was all the time.
 
He figured it would be mostly standing around, and then five minutes of
carrying shit out to the ship, so he tossed the dictionary on the bed and
followed his grandfather down the stairs. He let himself into the garage, and
was immediately met with Rick’s stern face. “Dónde está tu diccionario[13],
MoURRRGHHrty?”
 
“Lo dejo en mi cuarto. No hay que hablar mucho con nadie ahora, no?” He
shrugged. He knew Rick was trying not to smile, but he could see the corners of
his mouth twitching. God forbid the old man just tell Morty he was doing well.
Rick only had one correction for him. “’Lo dejé.’ Tiempo pasado.Pero te
entendí. Bueno, si estás seguro, súbete al carro y nos vamos de una vez.”[14]
 
Just as Morty expected, Rick spent an hour haggling with the pawn shop owner in
what he had come to recognize as Galactic Standard, while he wandered around
and looked at random alien stuff. He was starting to feel a headache coming on
when he finally heard Rick calling for him. “Morty, ven, ayúdame a llevar toda
esta mierda al carro. Este pendejo me cobró demasiado pero necesito las piezas
para alguna ciencia que estoy haciendo[15].” The shop owner quirked an eyebrow
at Rick, and switched to English. “That’s not Earth you’re speaking, Rick. I
thought that kid was your grandson.”
 
Rick rolled his eyes. “Earth has more than one language, dip ass. I’m speaking
English right now, not Earth. I speak Spanish with my grandson. It’s our native
tongue. Think about it like the difference between you speaking Hnnnnkllll and
Galactic StURRRPPPandard, but on a planetary level, if you can wrap your
pathetic brain around that.” He turned to grab a box of stuff off the ground,
and then swore at Morty. “Oye muévete las putas piernas, idiota, o vamos a
estar acá toda la noche[16].”
 
Morty grinned as he lugged the boxes out to the car. ‘Our native tongue.’ He
liked that. As he loaded the last of it into the trunk, Rick came up beside him
and slammed the hatch shut. “Espérame en el carro. Por desgracia, me di cuenta
de algo más que necesito, y sé que ese serote va a querer discutir el precio.Ya
vuelvo[17].” Morty obeyed his grandfather, and climbed into the ship. He
figured he’d be here for a while, so he reclined his seat and tucked his arm
behind his head.
 
He zoned out, contentedly thinking about what Rick had said. ‘Our native
tongue. Nuestra lengua nativa.’ Being a teenager, his thoughts about Rick and
tongues quickly morphed into thoughts about Rick’s tongue in particular, and
all the places Morty wanted him to put it. He peeked out the window of the
ship, looking around for anyone. He couldn’t see Rick, so he figured he must
have followed the shop owner into the back for something of questionable
legality. Morty estimated that he had about ten minutes… more than enough time
for a fifteen year old to take care of himself.
 
Morty had long since given up on trying to fantasize about anything other than
his grandfather. He knew it was sick, dirty, and wrong, but as far as he was
concerned, it wouldn’t be a big deal as long as no one ever found out. He
worried his bottom lip with his teeth, and used the hand not cushioning his
head to unzip his fly. He pulled himself out through the gap, and smoothed his
palm over the taut flesh. It never took the teenager much to get hard, and the
thought of Rick between his legs (‘me encanta tu sabor, M-morty, quiero más de
tí[18]’) already had him trembling.
 
His imaginary Rick licked a stripe up over his cock, and Morty pretended it was
Rick’s mouth, Rick’s wet heat that was enveloping him, that it was Rick’s hand
holding him steady at the base while Rick swirled his tongue around the tip.
‘Su lengua… su boca… su mano[19]…’ Morty gasped in a breath as the image
changed, and this time, it was Rick lowering himself onto Morty’s length. Morty
couldn’t stop himself from groaning Rick’s name. “Mierdaaaaa, Rick, oh my god,
it’s, i-it’s so good R-rick, dios mio Rick, jódemeeeeee[20]…” Morty thrust up
into his hand, but it was Rick that he was seeing, Rick that was riding his
cock like a goddamn rodeo champion, Rick’s tight hole that was clenching around
him… “Fuck, oh my god, RICCKKKK!!!”
 
He never noticed the little green light on the control panel, the one that
indicated that the microphone to the ship’s radio was engaged.
 
---
 
If Rick was any weirder over the next few weeks, Morty never noticed. They
started easing back into more thrilling adventures as July drew to a close and
as Morty got more comfortable without the dictionary. The teenager had his
hands full with not dying, so he wasn’t quite observant enough to catch a faint
blush on Rick’s cheeks sometimes when he spoke his grandfather’s name.
 
One particular night, they were on the run from a squadron of Gromflamites,
tearing at breakneck speed through the hallways of some backwater government
outpost, when Rick tossed Morty a gun and yelled, “DISPARA![21]” To Rick’s
horror, Morty’s incomprehensible reaction was to drop the gun and put his hands
in the air. Fortunately, Rick had another gun on him, a rifle, and he started
picking off any Gromflamite that came with 50 yards of his grandson. He
screamed at Morty, “WH-WHAT THE FUCK, M-MORTY, PICK UP THE, THE G-GUN AND
FUCKING SHOOT TH-THOSE INSECTS!! ARE YOU R-REALLY THAT, THAT FUCKING
STUPID?!?!?”
 
For a second that dragged on for an eternity, Rick thought Morty was going to
stay frozen in surrender, but after a lifetime he finally picked up the gun and
started firing, retreating to Rick’s position. As he came up next to Rick, Rick
dropped his hand from the rifle and grabbed the portal gun out of his pocket.
Without looking what it was set to, he fired a portal into a wall. He yanked
Morty into the new dimension, and sighed with relief when he heard it close
behind them. He let himself relax a little more when he realized they had
landed in their own dimension, in the garage. ‘Thank goodness for default
settings,’ he thought to himself.
 
Morty was grinning like a lunatic, high on adrenaline, until Rick hauled him up
by one arm and shook him rather violently. “Wh-what the f-fuck is wrong w-with
youURRRPPP, M-morty? W-why, why did you stop and, and just l-let those f-
fucking bureaucrats come at you? Do you have ANY idea what, w-w-w-what, what
could have happened to, to us there? DO YOU?!? YOU COULD HAVE FUCKING DIED, M-
MORTY!” The color drained from the kid’s face, and he was pale as the grave for
a few seconds before he flushed red. Rick could instantly see how ashamed he
was. He tucked his head into his chest, eyes on the floor, face a deeper
scarlet than Rick had ever seen it. He muttered something under his breath, and
kept his eyes trained on his shoes.
 
“Wh-wh-what was that, Morty?” Rick gripped the teen’s jaw, forcing his grandson
to look up at his face. Morty’s eyes practically rolled back in his head as he
tried to look anywhere else. He whined, and Rick could feel him shaking.
Finally, he breathed out, “P-pensé que dijiste ‘para.’N-n-no, no ‘dispara.’
Pensé que por, por alguna razón querías que me… que me… fuck, that you wanted
me to surrender. Que, que era parte de tu plan o-o-o algo.[22]”
 
“D-drop, drop the Spanish, Morty. Clearly there’s, th-there’s no point. I, I-I-
I, I’m done trying to teach you. It, it’s only going to get you killed. I mean,
I mean w-w-why would you, would you assume I meant surrender, when you don’t
even know the fuURRRGGHHcking word for surrender? Hijo de la chingada,[23] t-
that, that was the stupidest thing you have, y-y-you have ever done, M-m-
morty.” Rick didn’t even bother to hide the rage that was burning through him,
and he had no idea if he was mad at the government, his grandson, or himself.
 
“L-lo, lo siento, R-rick, p-p-pero[24]…” Morty stammered, trying to get his
thoughts in order.
 
“I said drop it. Just, just go to your room, M-morty. W-w-we, we’ll deal with
this later.”
 
---
 
A few hours later, Morty crept down the stairs. He figured Rick would be passed
out in a puddle of his own vomit at this point, but if he wasn’t, he’d learned
that it was a good time to apologize when Rick was blackout drunk. The old man
was always more affectionate then, and more likely to forgive. He was also more
likely to forget it had happened the next morning, but he usually took Morty’s
word for it that he was forgiven.
 
Instead of finding Rick on the floor of the garage, Morty stopped when he heard
his grandfather’s voice in the living room, and the low murmur of his mother’s
response. Rick got up from the couch, and Morty ducked back up the stairs,
waiting until his grandfather returned with more alcohol to emerge onto the
first floor. He settled at the foot of the staircase, and leaned in toward the
living room.
 
“Tati, quería agradecerte por enseñarle el español a Morty. He escuchado como
va mejorando, y sé que eso solo está pasando porque tú estás practicando con
él. Así que gracias, Tati – no sabes cuánto me alegro que el niño ya puede
hablar nuestro idioma.[25]” Beth murmured to her father. Morty watched as his
mother made to pour the wine from the bottle Rick had brought her, but then
appeared to reconsider and just took a swig straight from the bottle.
 
“No te ilusiones mucho, cariña. Ya no voy a enseñarle más, ni llevarlo
conmigoURRRPP cuando salga. No te lo quiero admitir, pero casi lo perdí hoy,
porque no me entendió bien. Es demasiado peligroso que vaya conmigo… hay
demasiado que le podría pasar, que yo le podría hacer.[26]” Morty knew his
grandfather had to be sloshed, to be admitting to his mother that he had almost
died. And he didn’t quite understand that last bit. What could Rick possibly be
worried about doing to him? The man had asked him to shove things into his ass
and kill government officials, what was he thinking of that could be worse than
that?
 
Beth must have been pretty far gone herself, though, because she just shrugged.
“No sé, Tati. Puede ser que es peligroso, eso de andar contigo, pero por mucho
que el puto marido mío queja, a mí me gusta que lleves el niño contigo. Se está
poniendo más… más audaz. Ya es más hombre que su padre[27].” Rick snorted, and
Morty assumed he was laughing at the insult to Jerry, who was sitting across
from Beth in the recliner and had no idea that he’d been mentioned. Rick stood
from the couch again, and made to leave, but he stopped first to kiss his
daughter on the forehead. “I’ll think about it, cariña.”
 
As Rick made to leave the room, Morty retreated up the stairs with his heart in
his throat.
 
---
 
Rick had always known he was into some twisted shit. So while he had never
considered his grandson as more than a horny teenager before, it didn’t
surprise him that it was like a switch had been thrown in his head that night
at the pawnshop. For more than a month after, he had noticed how Morty squirmed
whenever Rick said more than three words to him, how he struggled to hide his
erection whenever Rick gave him orders in Spanish. And it was just as bad for
him. He couldn’t hear his grandson say his name without Morty’s voice ringing
in his ear, totally wrecked, ‘Dios mío, Rick, joooddeeemmeeee…’
 
He figured his grandson’s crush was ultimately harmless, though, and that when
Morty eventually realized how weird it was, he would just chalk it up to teen
hormones and move on. And he rationalized his own growing fixation, telling
himself that it was no big deal that he kept picturing Morty in his head, as
long as he never acted on it. So while there might have been some occasional
awkwardness between them, Rick had never thought it would be necessary to
address it, or to call off their adventures.
 
Until he had told Morty to fire, and gotten surrender instead.
 
The incident dredged up a whole world of issues that Rick had hoped to keep
successfully buried. Rick sat with his daughter that night and tried to drown
them with alcohol, in keeping with his usual way of dealing with things, but it
just made his thoughts swirl around in his brain, incoherent and impossible for
him to hold onto. He laid on his camp bed later, trying to consider what had
happened.
 
Morty was too distracted by the sound of his voice to listen to what he was
saying… Morty was so devoted to him that he would do anything he said… It
wasn’t safe for Morty to be with Rick when he couldn’t pay attention to what
was happening around him… And Rick? Rick would die if anything happened to
Morty… He had just never thought that something would happen to Morty because
of him… Or that he would be the something that happened… Because Rick had been
so close earlier… His hand on Morty’s face in the garage, forcing Morty to look
up at him, and he could feel his cock throbbing… God, he was getting off on
Morty’s embarrassment… And it was so good, so hot, he could have just pushed
the kid to his knees…
 
The image of Morty on the cold cement of the garage, looking up at Rick while
he choked on his cock, had Rick fumbling with the button on his pants. He
tangled the fingers of one hand in his own hair, and imagined yanking Morty’s
head back instead, heard the gasps that would fall from Morty’s mouth. ‘Siiiií,
Rick, más[28]…’ He thrust his hips forward, sliding through the warm ring
created by his fingers, and imagined it was Morty, Morty trying desperately to
get it all the way into his mouth, Morty gasping for air while Rick’s tip
massaged the back of his throat.
 
He could see it, clear as day, when he pulled back from that swollen, stretched
mouth and watched his grandson begging for it. God, it was like Morty was in
the room, ‘Rick, tómame, cógeme, dámelo Rick por favor más Rick más ayyyyyy
Riccckkkkk…’ He watched as his imaginary Morty spread out on the floor in the
garage, ready and willing for Rick to take whatever he wanted, and he couldn’t
stop himself from muttering, “Joder, Morty, qué me estás haciendo?” Rick leaned
forward in his bed, fucking into his hand and seeing nothing but Morty below
him, Morty crying out in ecstasy while Rick pounded into him, Morty writhing on
his dick, desperate for more, ‘Maaaás Rick, duro, duurroooo, rápido,
maaaásssss…’ [29]His hand tightened around his cock at the same time that his
fantasy Morty clenched around him, and he watched as his imagination gave him
everything he wanted, Morty coming hard and screaming his name. Rick bit his
lip, but couldn’t stifle a groan as he came all over his sheets.
 
He didn’t bother to clean up, just slumped down onto the bed, not worried about
the come that was smeared onto his hip. ‘Mierda,’ he thought, ‘no puedo seguir
así. No seré la persona que arruine a Morty.Rehuso ser tan despreciable…[30]’
Rick knew that he would end it tomorrow. For Morty’s safety. No more Spanish,
no more adventures. He needed to know his grandson was safe. Even if it meant
safe from him.
 
---
 
The shouting match the next morning was epic, and for once, it wasn’t Beth and
Jerry making everyone uncomfortable.
 
“CÓMO, C-CÓMO PUTAS VAS A DECIR QUE, QUE Y-Y-YO NO PUEDO VOLVER A VIAJAR
CONTIGO? R-rick, abuelo, no haces esto. No lo haces. No me dejes aquí[31].”
 
“’No hagas[32],’ f-fuck Morty, youUURRRPP, y-you aren’t learning anything, a-
and y-you’re being an idiot. It, it’s too dangerous f-for you to go with me. Y-
you, you, y-y-y-you almost DIED, M-morty.”
 
“NO ME INTERESA, RICK!!![33]”
 
“T-t-tough, tough shit, M-morty. T-this isn’t about what, w-w-what you w-want.
And, and t-thank goodness for t-that, because if it w-w-were, we, w-we’d really
be in trouble.”
 
“… Y qué quieres decir con eso?[34]”
 
“Y-you know w-what I mean, M-Morty. You, you accidentally turned the, the radio
on, when, w-when you were waiting for me after the pawnshop…”
 
Morty froze, and he swore he could hear the universe shattering. He didn’t wait
to hear what else Rick would say. He stormed out of the room, pounded up the
stairs and slammed his door shut. Back in the kitchen, Rick hated himself for
playing that card, but if the embarrassment made Morty let it go, well, he
would do whatever he had to.
 
‘No voy a dejar que mueras por mí, Morty. Ni voy a dejar que yo te haga algo
imperdonable[35]…’ Rick thought as he gathered up an armful of bottles from the
pantry and retreated to the sanctuary of his room.
 
---
 
For three days, Morty could barely bring himself to leave his room. He was
horrified that Rick had heard him, crushed by how swiftly the idea had been
rejected, and absolutely despondent over the idea that he wouldn’t be able to
travel with his grandfather anymore thanks to his stupid fucking libido. Hell,
Rick probably hadn’t even cared about the whole “dispara” thing, he had
probably been looking for a way to get rid of Morty for weeks, from the second
Rick heard his grandson get off with Rick’s name on his lips.
 
At first, he let himself wallow in his misery, emotionally destroyed about what
he thought he had lost. But around the third day, he made a decision. He wasn’t
going to lose this just because he couldn’t get his hormones under control. His
adventures with Rick, his chance to learn the language that his mother and Rick
shared, he wasn’t willing to give it up that easily. And if that meant letting
go of his sick fantasies about his grandfather… well, he’d punch himself in the
groin every night, if he had to.
 
On the fourth day after their argument, Morty sat and marshalled all of his
apologies, arguments, and blackmail (just in case). He practiced them, in
English and in Spanish, until he was ready for whatever Rick would throw at
him. And then he waited, ready to do whatever was necessary to fix this.
 
---
 
For four days, Rick had gotten drunk. Skull-numbingly, brain-cell-murderingly
drunk. He was pretty sure those weren’t words. He was also pretty sure he
didn’t care. He didn’t know why his inner monologue was still running in
English anyway. Usually when he had been on a bender for this long, he forgot a
lot of his second language. Not that he was so great at it when he was sober
(less drunk). Fucking stuttering and stammering, he sounded as bad as his
grandson half the time. It pissed him off, because in Spanish he was smooth as
hell. In English, he always sounded like he wasn’t sure what he was going to
say next.
 
‘Idioma de mierda, que se vaya p’al diablo[36],’ he thought to himself. He
wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting in the dark drinking, but he guessed
it had been a few days. A few days since he had sworn off more adventures with
Morty. Good, kind, perfect Morty. El nieto más lindo que un hombre podría pedir
de Dios… Como si hubiera un Dios.[37]Pffft. Rick might have been drunk, but he
wasn’t even close to being drunk enough to believe in God. Morty, though, he
believed in Morty.
 
That was why he was drunk… Because Morty was good, and Rick was… Rick was sick…
And Rick would ruin Morty, and Morty would just let him… El niño era ingenuo,
inocente, y Rick lo iba a corromper, a degradar, a destruir… Pobre Morty,
pensando que Rick no lo quería, cuando era el opuesto… Rick era enfermo, lo
quería demasiado… No sentía la repugnancia que debía, era pervertido, pensando
en todo lo que quería hacerle al joven…[38]
 
Rick reached for his flask, and then remembered that it had been empty for a
while now, and his hands were too shaky to refill it. He rooted around under
his bed, picking up bottles and tossing them toward the door when he found them
empty. He finally found one that was mostly full, and threw his head back with
his lips sealed around the neck.
 
Mmmmm… el viejo podía pensar en unas cuantas cosas más sobre las cuales quería
sellar sus labios. Imaginaba que Morty era de pie en frente suyo, polla en la
mano, dirigiéndola hacia la boca de Rick, susurrándole suciedad, ‘Toma, Rick,
ahógate en mi verga, viejo hijo de las cien putas…’[39]
 
“Fucckkkk, Morty…”
 
---
 
Morty waited until he was certain Rick would be past the legal limit in every
dimension he could think of. Around 2:30 in the morning, he could hear the dull
thud of empty bottles hitting the wall, and then dropping to the floor. He knew
Rick, knew that right now he was so drunk that he couldn’t even consider
stumbling to the kitchen for more booze. Which made now the perfect time.
 
He felt kind of bad, taking advantage of his grandfather’s alcoholism like
this, but he couldn’t imagine Rick letting him speak his piece if he were
sober. Bracing himself for confrontation, he hurried down the stairs, and
stopped outside Rick’s door. He had one hand on the handle, ready to push it
open and beg his grandfather to forgive him for being such a sick fuck, when he
heard the last thing he expected.
 
“Fucckkkk, Morty…”
 
Morty thought for a second that he was hearing things. But then the words were
followed by a low groan, a sharp intake of breath, and an “Aaayyyyy dios
Morty,fuck me, ahhhhhh…” Morty was instantly rock hard, it was unavoidable, but
the hypocrisy of the situation had him seeing red. He threw the door open so
hard that it bounced off the wall and clicked shut again, and called out a
“What the fuck, Rick?” before stopping in his tracks to stare at the scene in
front of him. Rick was laid out on his bed, one hand gripping the sheets, the
other fisting his cock while a dildo (wireless? alien? homemade?) fucked in and
out of his sloppy hole, lube dripping down to pool on his labcoat, the only
thing he was wearing.
 
Rick was either drunker than Morty thought or he hadn’t realized his grandson
had entered the room (or maybe he just got off on having somebody watch), but
he wasn’t stopping. Morty could hear the slick noise of the dildo moving with
Rick, and the breathless moans Rick made every time it nudged up into him, and
he couldn’t help it, he snapped. He crossed the room and grabbed Rick’s jaw,
forcing his grandfather to look up at him in a mirror image of their scene in
the garage the other day. “Q-qué chingados estás ha-haciendo, R-rick? Qué es,
es tú problema?[40]”
 
Unlike Morty, Rick didn’t hesitate to look him in the eye. Icy blue stared into
chocolate brown, and Rick sighed out, “Eres tú.[41]” Morty felt the man’s body
seize up under him, and when he glanced down, he watched Rick let go. Thick
drops of white spattered onto the old man’s chest, mixing with the blue gray
hairs there. One spurt hit his jawline, and while Morty held him in place, he
watched Rick’s release trickle down into the hollow of his throat.
 
His plans were in the wind, and without stopping to think, he leaned down and
sucked the come off of Rick’s neck. Rick hissed in a breath beneath him, and
Morty lost it completely. He reached down and practically tore the dildo out
from between Rick’s legs, and tossed it across the room. He heard Rick grunt
with displeasure at the loss, but he didn’t have long to wait. Morty didn’t
bother taking his clothes off, he just shoved his pants down far enough that he
could get his dick out. He swiped his fingers through the puddle of lube on
Rick’s lab coat, slicked up his cock, and rammed his hips forward, shoving
himself into Rick the way he had wanted to for so long.
 
Rick cried out beneath him as Morty took a shaky breath, realizing what he had
done, what he was doing. He still had Rick’s jaw in his grip, and his other
hand was pressed into the bed by Rick’s. His hips stuttered up into Rick
automatically, and his eyes locked on Rick’s hand, wrapped around his softening
length. A split second decision, and he threw caution out the window as he
rocked back, then ground up into Rick’s prostate. Rick moaned out his name, and
the last of Morty’s sanity crumbled.
 
“T-te gusta eso, viejo? Hm? Te gusta cuando, cuando tu n-n-nieto te culea,
cuando te la m-meta hasta que estés com-, completamente lleno? Te gusta cómo,
cómo te sientes cuando estoy d-dentro, dentro d-de ti?[42]” Morty pulled slowly
out while he asked each question, then rammed back in again before starting the
next. Rick was practically whimpering, and if Morty thought his grip on the
sheets was tight before, it was nothing compared to the white knuckled hold he
had now. Morty realized that Rick was nodding into the hand that held his jaw,
and thought to himself that he’d like to hear Rick say it, say out loud just
how much he wanted this.
 
He grabbed both of Rick’s hands, and pulled them away from the bed and from
Rick’s cock, shoving them up above his head. He stared down at his grandfather,
totally debauched underneath him on the bed, and in that instant, he thought
that no matter what ended up happening, this was worth it. Placing his hands on
Rick’s hips and using his leverage to pull Rick in to his thrusts, Morty kept
up his slow pace while he murmured to Rick. “Hablame, R-rick. Déjame saber
cuánto lo, cuánto lo quieres.Sino, siempre p-puedo parar[43]…”
 
Morty stilled inside his grandfather, and it was like a dam broke inside Rick.
Words started pouring out of his mouth, everything from Morty’s filthiest
fantasies. “Dámelo, Morty, por favor no pares, nunca pares, me encanta tu
verga, necesito más de ti, ayyyyy no parrressssss[44]…” Morty was pretty sure
he didn’t even need to move, Rick could just keep talking and it would be
enough, but fucckkkk…
 
He picked up his pace as Rick continued to beg. “Morty, eres perfecto, me
encanta cómo se siente tenerte culeándome por fin, he estado esperando esto por
semanas ya, y por fin te tengo adentro mío, y es perfecto, Morty, eres
perfecto…Déjame tocarte, Morty, por favor…” Morty smirked down at his
grandfather. “Está bien, p-puto, tócame y-y-y-, tócame ya.”[45]
 
Rick ran his hands up Morty’s sides under his t-shirt, across his shoulders and
over his chest, stopping to thumb at each nipple, tracing the lines of his
stomach on their way back to his hips. Morty was close, so close, and Rick’s
hands on his body were driving him crazy. He could feel Rick’s muscles
contracting around him, and he knew there was no way that his grandfather was
about to come again, which meant he was just doing it for Morty’s pleasure.
Rick hummed underneath him, “Eso es para ti, Morty, eso siempre ha sido tuyo,
siempre va a ser apretado y mojado para ti, solo para ti y nadie más[46] ahhhh
ahhhhhhh AHHHHHH MORRTTTTYYYYY!” Morty was slamming into him now, and Rick
contracted his muscles around his grandson again, crying out when he felt
himself filled with liquid warmth.
 
Morty pulled back from his grandfather, admiring how wrecked he looked slumped
back on his pillow like that, still covered in his own drying come and with
some of Morty’s starting to trickle out between his legs. He laid down on his
side next to Rick and ran his fingers through Rick’s hair, damp with sweat and
frizzy from the humidity in the room. He let his other hand fall casually over
Rick’s heart, and he felt how his pulse started to even out, steadying itself
as Rick relaxed.
 
He nuzzled his face into the side of Rick’s neck, and inhaled a mix of alcohol,
sweat, and sex. He pressed his lips into Rick’s throat, then lifted his head
slightly to speak softly to his grandfather. “R-rick? Promise m-me, promise me
th-that you, y-y-you, you’ll be here wh-when I w-wake up?”
 
Rick sighed. “Lo que tú quieras, Morty.Te lo prometo.[47]”
 
---
 
Morty woke the next morning to the sight of Rick rummaging around in his
various desk drawers and groaning. He finally emerged with an unmarked pill
bottle, shook out a handful, and tossed them back with a swig from whichever
bottle had been closest to his hand. He was still for a few moments, then he
straightened out and stretched, and started digging through his drawers for
fresh clothes. Morty was pleased to see that he wasn’t freaking out – he had
expected some kind of meltdown, even though he knew now that his grandfather
was just as messed up as he was.
 
“Buenos días[48], R-rick.” Morty yawned and turned onto his back, spreading out
over the old camp bed. Rick glanced at the teenager, then tossed his shirt and
his pants in the general direction of the bed. Morty didn’t remember ever
getting undressed, so he guessed he must have shrugged everything off during
the night. He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, then stood so he could
get his pants over his hips.
 
Moving quietly, Rick pressed up behind his grandson, and Morty could feel
something hard poking into the small of his back. “Ti-tienes una pistola, o,o
solo te ha-hace feliz verme?[49]” Morty chuckled to himself, knowing it was
lame, but figuring it was early enough that he could get away with being
cheesy. Rick gripped his hip and spun him around, pressing a greedy kiss into
Morty’s lips. “Siempre estoy feliz cuando estoy contigo[50], Morty…” Morty
closed his eyes, leaning in to Rick, and he was too distracted to notice Rick
pointing the amnesia gun at him. “… Te amo, Morty. Y por eso, no seré él que te
destruye. Espero que me puedas perdonar.[51]”
 
Without warning, Morty heard a soft “pew” and felt a wave of warmth pass over
him. His eyes felt really heavy suddenly, but he forced them open. He didn’t
remember how he had gotten to Rick’s room, but it felt like it was really early
in the morning. Rick probably had some ridiculous adventure planned and Morty
was about to get dragged along for the ride. It was too early to try to figure
out what was going on, so he figured he’d just roll with it.
 
Rick was all up in his space, probably lecturing him about nodding off or
something, and Morty stepped back a few paces. The smell of the alcohol on
Rick’s breath was making him dizzy. When the backs of his knees hit Rick’s bed,
he plopped down onto it, and straight into a puddle of something sticky.
“Euurgghhh, gross, R-rick, did you spill y-y-your booze in the bed?” Rick
shrugged, and didn’t make eye contact. “Lo siento, Morty, sé que soy asqueroso.
[52]”
 
“C-come on, R-rick, it’s too early f-f-for, for this. Y-y-you, you, y-you know
I don’t speak Sp-spanish…”
 
 
[1] “RUN MORTY YOU SON OF A BITCH OR THAT THING, I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT THING
IS, BUT IT’S GONNA EAT US!!!!”
[2] “I eat, you eat, he eats, you… you… you...”  “You eat.”
[3] “You’ve gotta learn.” “We eat, you all eat, they eat.”
[4] “Cat? Dog? Please?”
[5] “It wasn’t that easy.”
[6] “You’re such a good boy for your grandpa, Morty.”
[7] “It’s a present. Open it.”
[8] “From now on, we’re not speaking English… until the end of your summer
vacation. I won’t say a single word to you that isn’t in Spanish, and I won’t
answer you if you say something to me in English. If there’s any word you don’t
know, look for it in your dictionary. Understood?”
[9] “You fuck yourself, Rick.” (He means “fuck you.”)
[10] “You’d like that, wouldn’t you Morty?”  “Go take a shower, do whatever you
need to with that, and then let’s go to Blips and Chitz. It feels like a good
day to beat you at Roy.”
[11] “Come on, Morty, I need something from the pawn shop and I’m going to need
another pair of hands.”
[12] “Give it to me”
[13] “Where’s your dictionary?”
[14] “I leave it in my room. I don’t have to talk to anyone really, right?”
 “’I left it.’ Past tense. But I understood you. Okay, if you sure, get in the
car and let’s go already.”
[15] “Morty, come help me carry all this shit to the car. This asshole charged
me way too much for the parts but I need them for some science stuff that I’m
doing.”
[16] “Yo, move your fucking legs, idiot, or we’ll be here all night.”
[17] “Wait for me in the car. Unfortunately, I thought of something else I
need, and I know that piece of shit is going to want to argue about the price.
I’ll be right back.”
[18] “I love the way you taste, Morty, I want more of you.”
[19] “His tongue… his mouth… his hand…”
[20] “Shitttt Rick, oh my god Rick, fuccckkk meeeeee….”
[21] “SHOOT!”
[22] “I thought you said ‘stop.’ Not ‘shoot.’ I thought, for some reason, that
you wanted me… fuck, that you wanted me to surrender. That it was part of your
plan or something.”
[23] “Son of a bitch.”
[24] “I’m sorry, Rick… but…”
[25] “Dad, I wanted to thank you for teaching Morty Spanish. I’ve heard how
he’s improving, and I know it’s only happening because you’re practicing with
him. So thanks, Dad – you don’t know how happy it makes me that he can speak
our language.”
[26] “Don’t get too excited, sweetie. I’m not going to teach him anymore, or
take him with me when I go out. I don’t want to admit it to you, but I almost
lost him today because he didn’t understand me correctly. It’s too dangerous
for him to go with me… there’s too much that could happen to him, that I could
do to him.”
[27] “I don’t know, Dad. Maybe it’s dangerous for him to go with you, but for
as much as my fucking husband bitches, I like that you take him with you. He’s
getting… braver. He’s already more of a man than his father.”
[28] “Yesssss, Rick, morrrreee…”
[29] “‘Rick, take me, fuck me, give it to me Rick please more Rick more ahhhhh
Riccckkkkk…”  “Fuck, Morty, what are you doing to me?”  “Moorrrre Rick, harder,
harrdderrrr, fasstterrr, morrreee…’
[30] “Shit, I can’t keep going like this. I won’t be the person who ruins
Morty. I refuse to be that despicable…”
[31] “HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING TO SAY THAT I CAN’T TRAVEL WITH YOU ANYMORE?
R-rick, grandpa, you don’t do this. You don’t do it. Don’t leave me here.”
[32] “Don’t do it.”
[33] “I don’t care, Rick!!!”
[34] “And what is that supposed to mean?”
[35] “I’m not going to let you die for me, Morty. And I’m not going to let
myself do something unforgiveable to you…’
[36] “Piece of shit language, can go right to hell.”
[37] The most beautiful grandson a man could ask for from God… As if there was
a God.
[38] The kid was naive, innocent, and Rick was going to corrupt him, degrade
him, destroy him… Poor Morty, thinking Rick didn’t want him, when it was the
opposite… Rick was sick, he wanted him too much… He didn’t feel the repulsion
that he ought to, he was a pervert, thinking about everything he wanted to do
to the boy…
[39] Mmmmm… the old man could think of a few other things he’d like to wrap hi
slips around. He imagined Morty standing in front of him, dick in hand,
pointing it toward Rick’s mouth, whispering filth, ‘Here, Rick, choke on my
dick, you old son of a bitch…
[40] “What the fuck are you doing, Rick? What is your problem?”
[41] “You are.”
[42] “You like that, old man? Hm? You like it when your grandson fucks you,
when he stuffs you completely full? You like how it feels when I’m inside you?”
[43] “Talk to me, Rick. Tell me how much you want it. Otherwise, I could always
stop…”
[44] “Give it to me, Morty, please don’t stop, never stop, I love your cock, I
need more of you, ahhhhh don’t stoppppp…”
[45] “Morty, you’re perfect, I love how it feels to finally have you fucking
me, I’ve been waiting for this for weeks, and I finally have you inside me, and
it’s perfect, Morty, you’re perfect… Let me touch you, Morty, please…”   “Okay,
slut, touch me already.”
[46] “That’s yours, Morty, it’s always been yours, it’ll always be tight and
wet for you, just you and nobody else.”
[47] “Whatever you want, Morty. I promise.”
[48] “Good morning.”
[49] “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”
[50] “I am always happy when I’m with you Morty…”
[51] “… I love you, Morty. And that’s why I won’t be the one who destroys you.
I hope you can forgive me.”
[52] “Sorry, Morty, I know I’m disgusting.”
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