Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/11820855. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Rick_and_Morty Relationship: Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith Character: Rick_Sanchez_(Rick_and_Morty), Morty_Smith Additional Tags: Smut, Drug_Use, Marijuana, Consensual_Underage_Sex, Underage_Smoking, handjob, No_Sex, Unfinished Stats: Published: 2017-08-16 Words: 4023 ****** It Matters ****** by rickandmortysincave Summary Rick and Morty spend Valentine's Day together. Notes This is an unfinished work that I began in February. I'm not sure if I'll ever add a second chapter to finish it up, so for now just enjoy the sweet sweet incest as is. Thanks for reading! ♡ See the end of the work for more notes Morty found Rick drunk in the garage, per usual. It had become routine for Morty to meet him after school, rousing him from a blackout or startling him while he was working on some invention. Today it was the latter, but Morty could already tell that the old man was drunk off of his ass by the several empty bottles that laid by his feet. "Hey, Rick," he spoke softly, trying hard not to surprise him. Of course, it didn't work. "Fuck, Morty, don't you ever knock?" Rick complained. "W-Wouldn't it have, uh, wouldn't it still have made you jump? Because you weren't expecting it," Morty clarified. Rick glared at him. "Yeah, sure, whatever," he grumbled, waving his hand dismissively. "Shouldn't you be-be getting ready for that stupid dance at your school tonight? Summer won't sh-shut up about it." Morty cocked a brow. "Wh-Why would I wanna go? It's just gonna-gonna be a-a- a bunch of couples making out on the dance floor." "I was under the impression that you would've asked Jessica, or whatever." Morty shrugged. "She's dating Brad again, so...p-probably not a, uh, a good idea. Heh, i-it's not like I haven't spent the other fourteen Valentine's Days alone," he joked, pulling up a chair beside Rick. "Wh-Whatcha' working on, Rick?" "It's a device that changes the electrons in atoms." "Oh." Morty didn't know a whole lot of anything about stuff like that. The room became silent as he watched Rick's handiwork. "Hey, Rick?" "Mm?" Rick stopped for a moment to take a swig from a half-empty bottle. "Wh-What was your last Valentine's Day like? I-I-I mean, when you were with someone. A-And not just like, you know, sex." He had to admit that his curiosity was piqued. Rick never talked about past relationships. For a long time Morty assumed it was because he didn't date, but after Unity he chalked it up to Rick's disinterest in speaking about the past, period. Rick pursed his lips. "I-I don't know, Morty, I was probably with your grandmother." Morty looked surprised. Neither Beth nor Rick ever spoke of her. He was shocked that Rick would even mention her at all, especially in such a casual conversation. "Oh? So what was that like?" Rick sighed. "I-I-I don't really feel like talking about it, M-Morty. She was crazy." Morty raised his hands defensively. "O-Okay, man, forget I asked." "Wh-What's got you so interested anyways?" Rick passed an accusatory glance. "It's just, I uh, I never, y'know, I've always been single on Valentine's Day so I was just wondering if it's as-as special as everyone makes it out to be." Rick snorted and continued his work. "I-It's a commercial holiday Morty, m-made up by department stores to-to-to get you to spend your money. It's stupid." "Aw jeez, I don't know, Rick," Morty countered. "I-It could probably be kinda nice, y'know? W-With the romance, and all." "Morty, i-i-if you need a holiday to tell you to-to be romantic with your partner, then your relationship probably sucks," Rick sneered, his crow's feet growing more prominent as he focused on rewiring the device in his hands. "I think the whole purpose is-is that people get kind of busy, right? L-Like, caught up in stuff. So it's kind of like...like the holiday is a reminder? At least, that's what I think it's about." "My statement still stands," grunted Rick. Morty mulled it over for a few minutes, drumming his fingers on the table until Rick reached out a hand to make him stop so he could continue his work without distraction. "So you've never celebrated it, then?" Morty continued. "I didn't say that." Morty smiled at the idea of Rick putting out an effort to be romantic for someone else, maybe buying flowers and making dinner and getting stupidly nervous over a holiday he didn't even really like. Of course the imagery only brought Morty's dumb crush on him to the forefront, but he squashed it down before he could get any ideas himself. If there was one thing he knew how to do impeccably, it was ignore his feelings for his grandfather. "Did-Did you think it was stupid then?" "What is this, twenty questions?" Rick asked, rolling his eyes. "Come on, I'm just curious," Morty goaded. "Yeah, Morty, I-I've always thought it was stupid. B-But when you have feelings for someone, y-you do stuff they wanna do. You happy?" Rick answered, clearly exasperated. "Jeez, Rick, I didn't mean to be pushy. Y-You didn't have to answer if you didn't want to." The two sat in silence once more until Rick pushed the device away, the sound of metal scraping the worktable causing Morty to jump in surprise. "I'm bored. Wanna go smoke weed?" Morty furrowed his brow. The casual manner of the offer was a little strange considering he had never smoked before. "Uh, I...I guess?" Rick glanced at him, a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. "That's such a pussy answer, Morty." "Come on, what-what do you want me to say? 'Fuck yeah, l-let's go light one up, Rick'?" Rick's boisterous laughter was practically contagious, and soon Morty found himself chuckling along with the absurdity of the statement "Shit, Morty. Just- Just get in the ship." Morty couldn't help but think that the pink in Rick's cheeks was kind of flattering on him. The two ducked into the ship and before Morty knew it they were in space, perusing along at a slower pace than they had left in. Rick rummaged through the center console until he pulled out a joint. He gave Morty a quick once- over. "Y-You're not gonna pussy out, right?" "N-No," Morty stammered defensively. "I can handle it." Rick leaned over to ruffle Morty's hair before he lit up, holding in a deep breath and slowly letting it out so that the ship was reduced to a smokey haze. There was something in his gaze that made Morty a little nervous as he handed the joint to him. "Y-You ever smoked a cigarette? A-Actually, I-I-I know who I'm talking to, let- let me just walk you through it." Morty narrowed his eyes and brought the edge to his lips. "Alright, now-now just breathe in, don't j-just suck the smoke out of it or you won't feel shit." Morty took a deep breath, but the itching in his lungs was almost immediate as he coughed out a thick cloud of smoke. His eyes began to water. "Shit, man," Rick chuckled. "Y-You took way too much." He plucked it from Morty's shaky fingers and held it in his mouth as he rubbed soothing circles across Morty's back. He couldn't control the shiver that ran up his spine at Rick's touch. "Why didn't you tell me to-to-to stop?" He choked, his throat feeling dry. Rick shrugged and leaned back against the seat. "You looked like you were handling your shit for a second." "Fuck," Morty coughed, clearing his throat. "I-I-I feel kind of weird." "Yeah, give it a few more seconds a-and you'll probably be higher than a kite." Rick took another puff from the joint and offered it to Morty, eyebrows raised. "Want another go or-or can't your baby lungs handle it?" "Fuck off," Morty bit, swiping it from Rick's hand and taking another, albeit smaller, drag. "You know," he began, handing it back to Rick as he let out a steady breath. "I-I'd rather be doing this than going to-to that stupid dance with Jessica, or-or whatever." "I thought you liked her." Rick kicked his feet on the dash and began to stare out the window at the passing stars. "I don't know, man," Morty sighed. "There's-There's more out there th-than just Jessica." No need to explain who that really pertained to. Morty stared down into his lap to hide his embarrassment, but there seemed to be something wrong with his legs. "A-Are my legs even attached to my body?" He asked, causing Rick to laugh again. The sound was practically music to Morty's ears. "Th-They're there, buddy," Rick assured him, placing a hand on his knee to shake it. Morty held his breath until Rick released him. "They don't-don't look like it," he huffed, rubbing the tops of his thighs to double check. "Just hope you're not-not one of those people that--y-know, doesn't get all panicky when they smoke. I mean, that's like, the-the opposite of what it's supposed to do." "People panic when they smoke?" The thought in and of itself sent a wave of terror up Morty's frame. Luckily, Rick was always one to pick up on such emotions before they could manifest into something more. "No, no, look, kid, you'll be fine," he promised. "Just, look, look around, shit's nice, right?" "What? We see this all the--" But Morty cut off before he could finish, suddenly lost in the marvels of the shimmering darkness around them. "Wow, o- okay, Rick, I see what you mean." Rick grinned and folded his arms behind his head, the perfect picture of ease. "See? Just relax once-once in awhile." The two sat in silence for a moment, Rick periodically puffing on the joint and passing it to a starstruck Morty, who would take tiny pulls, never tearing his gaze away from the scenery outside the window. "Hey Morty." "Hmm?" He inquired dreamily, now focused on the gravelly voice beside him. God, he could get high on just that sound alone. "Guess this isn't--you're uh, not spending this Valentine's Day alone, huh?" Rick pointed out, taking another drag from the joint between his lengthy fingers as Morty handed it back to him. "Yeah, I-I guess you're right," Morty agreed, trying to think of a way to steer the conversation before it could lean into dangerous territory. Luckily, Rick beat him to the punch. "L-Look, Morty, you're still young. There's plenty of time to-to spend stupid fucking holidays with some high maintenance girl," he smirked, leaning forward to mess with some dials until a song quietly hummed through the speakers. "I-I don't know if I want that," he admitted a moment too late. Shit. His head to mouth filter was even worse when he was high. "Am I talking to the same Morty? I-I didn't accidentally switch with another Rick or something, right?" Rick joked, but there was something about his tone that set Morty on edge. "N-No, it's just--aw jeez, I don't know. Girls are just-just..." He huffed out a breath and tried to collect himself. "They're a pain. I-I don't really...really get them I guess." "So, what?" A long billow of smoke sailed out between Rick's lips. Morty couldn't help but notice. "Y-You like guys? You don't gotta-gotta come out t-to me, Morty, y-y'know Grandpa doesn't give a shit what you like. I-I'm not exactly the poster child for heterosexuality." "Yes--I mean, no, like, ugh..." Morty slumped forward, letting his head rest against the dash. "I don't know," he mumbled. "You don't have to figure it out right away," Rick reassured, patting Morty's shoulder. The words felt comforting, but they weren't exactly what Morty needed. He already knew what he wanted. When it came down to it, it was simply a matter of trying to repress that want. The bitter irony wasn't lost on him. At a time in his life when he should've been figuring out what he was into, he ended up having a crush on the last person in the multiverse that he could have. Go figure. "Y-You shouldn't stress over it, kid, trust me. In the-the grand scheme of things, it's not really--isn't really that big of a deal." "You don't know the half of it," Morty sighed. It took him a millisecond to realize that once again, he had spoken his thoughts aloud. "No? Y-You're fifteen, Morty. What could-could possibly--could you even really be worked up over so badly?" Morty bit his lip, tried hard to focus on anything but the conversation at hand. "Trust me, you don't want to--" "Try me," Rick interjected, eyebrow cocked in a way that made it seem like he was challenging him. Well, he had already gotten this far, right? Maybe Rick would be too high to remember. "Fine, but you asked for it," Morty warned, lifting his sweat-slick forehead from the cool material of the dashboard. He didn't give Rick time to register what that might mean before he was grabbing him by the lapels of his coat and pulling him in for a rough peck on the lips. "Morty," Rick began, but he was already releasing his grip, turning away to stare moodily out the window. "Shit, Morty, I-I didn't think--" "Just forget about it, okay?" He snapped, leaning across the center console to pluck what was left of the joint from Rick's hand. His drag matched that of the first, and he released a thick white cloud of smoke that ricocheted off the windshield before he spoke again. "Doesn't-Doesn't matter anyways." Rick gaped, eyes trailing momentarily at the dead butt of the joint that Morty flicked to the floor. "It doesn't matter?" Morty's eyes began to burn, but whether that was from high or the imminent threat of tears, he couldn't tell. "No." "Well, i-it fucking matters to me," Rick argued in return, pressing closer into Morty's personal space until he looked up at him. "Y-You can't just work up the courage to-to kiss someone and then pussy out, *Morty*." This time, it was Morty's turn to stare in astonishment. "What?" "You gotta--at least be a fucking man about it," Rick lectured, leaning forward so that his lips were mere inches from Morty's. "If-If something matters to you, you should say so." A moment of tense silent sat between them as Morty tried to register what was happening. The high, of course, only made it increasingly harder. "Well?" "It-It does m-matter to me," Morty admitted, wondering if Rick could feel his breath on his skin. "Well yeah, Morty," Rick smirked, his eyes alight with something that Morty couldn't quite read. "I-It doesn't take a genius like me to figure that one out." "What are you--" "Just shut up, Morty," Rick murmured, his eyes slipping shut as he closed the distance between their mouths once more. Morty returned with fervor before he could talk himself out of it, could get his feelings back in check. Who was he to ruin a good thing too soon? Rick entwined his fingers into the curls at the nape of Morty's neck, drawing him in closer as he pried his grandson's mouth open with his own, letting his tongue slip over Morty's with practiced skill. Morty had to suppress a needy moan that threatened to creep up his throat, lest he seemed too eager and this all turned out to be another one of Rick's convoluted jokes. He could picture it briefly behind his eyes, Rick shoving him away, dusting off his coat nonchalantly, telling Morty he always knew what a sicko he was, but 'Damn, Morty, even that's taking it a little too far.' But it didn't happen, and he wasn't sure if he should feel triumphant or scared. Rick's fingers lowered to press themselves possessively on Morty's shoulders as he practically licked the back of Morty's teeth until his own tongue was forced to shove back. Rick tasted like, well, alcohol mostly, but there was something underneath that that Morty could only describe as distinctly Rick, a taste that, even though he was insanely fucked up and feeling better than he had in a long time, was probably the best high he had ever experienced. He felt powerful, wanted. Those were emotions that he had never experienced before, at least not to this magnitude. And then, already tired of leaning over the console, Rick's hands suddenly snaked around Morty's hips with an intensity that was sure to bruise and pulled him into his lap so that his back was pressed flush with the steering wheel. A prominent blush creeped down Morty's face to rest in pink hues at his chest as the kiss broke and he was forced to lock eyes with his grandfather who, for a split second that made Morty's heart hammer in his chest, remained entirely unreadable. And then, so gently that Morty wasn't sure that this was really even Rick and not just some hallucinatory version of him, he brushed his lips forward to meet the sweet spot where Morty's jaw and his neck met, causing a shudder to tear down his spine. But still, the silence felt disconcerting somehow. He longed to hear that gravelly voice that he so often day dreamed about. So as Rick dragged his tongue across the expanse of Morty's jugular, he let out an airy breath and whispered, "Say something." Rick looked at Morty from beneath his lashes, his fiery gaze causing Morty to squirm. "Y-You want me to say something, huh? Want me to-to-to tell you what a little slut you are for tempting your grandpa? How badly I wanna teach you a- a fucking lesson for trying--for seducing me?" Morty gasped audibly and ground his hips down as if to emphasize Rick's point. Rick leaned forward, the tip of his nose traveling along Morty's jaw until his lips rested right beside Morty's ear. "I-Is that-that what you want, baby?" He asked throatily, scraping the delicate skin of Morty's earlobe between his teeth. "Yes," Morty cried out, both at the question and the sensation. He already felt as if he were bursting at the seams. "Yeah? Well..." One of Rick's hands traveled up Morty's chest, skimming over his thin t-shirt until his thumb pressed into the hollow of Morty's throat. "Ask nicely." Morty swallowed loudly and tried to look away, but that same hand, thumb still putting pressure on that spot that made it feel sort of hard to breathe, gripped his jaw and forced him to look back at Rick, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer without giving up his dignity entirely. "Please, Rick," he begged softly, cheeks burning a near alarming amount. Rick's eyes were so taunting that it put a pit in Morty's stomach. "Please what?" "Please..." He took a deep breath and prepared to swallow his pride. "Please t- tell me...Tell me what a-a slut I am, Grandpa," he murmured, his voice hoarse with humiliation and unbridled lust. Long fingers brushed kiss swollen lips as Rick looked him over in all his shame, shaking and red and keening for his grandfather. "You're a slut, Morty," Rick smirked, and the way he said his name had Morty near delirious. "You're a- a dirty fucking slut, and I-I'm gonna teach you a lesson." And then Rick raised his hips just right and Morty let out a moan at the delicious friction, could feel Rick's erection brush his own through their pants, and he knew that there was no going back. "Touch me," he pleaded, gripping onto Rick's coat, clutching for anything to keep himself grounded. "Please, Rick, touch me, I-I need--" "What's the rush, baby?" He thrusted upward again, long and teasing. "You got somewhere to be?" "N-No, I--fuck--I--" Morty's sentence trailed off and became a series of whines as Rick increased the pace, the pressure now a constant threat to push Morty over the edge. And then finally, after what felt like hours but was probably more likely a few minutes, Rick dragged Morty's t-shirt over his head and began to pepper kisses just about anywhere he could find purchase on Morty's milky skin. His ribs, his stomach, his sternum, his sides, his chest, none of it went without attention, and he felt as if he was on the brink of sensational overload, or at least, what he assumed was sensational overload until Rick began to bury his teeth wherever he deemed fit. Morty's hips bucked forward involuntarily, his thighs twitching as Rick sucked hard, drawing blood in some places and leaving prominent bruises in others. Rick could've told him he was a vampire at that point and, at the rate he was going, Morty would have believed him. "Yeah Morty, you-you like this?" Rick grinned, wiping his grandson's blood from the corner of his mouth. The sight was so beautiful that Morty could have cried. "You like to be-be marked up by your grandpa? Sick fuck," he mocked, but the way he said it sounded more like praise. "Yeah, Rick," Morty whimpered obediently, figuring he would be pressed for an answer. "I-I like to-to be m-marked up by you." Rick chuckled low and ran a thumb across one of Morty's nipples. "Good boy." And really, truly, that's when Morty knew just how fucked up he was, because those two words coming from Rick made him harder than he'd ever been in his entire life. "Rick," he groaned, small hands pressing against the hardened planes of Rick's chest. "Please, could you--" "So impatient," Rick clucked. "Y-You think you w-would wanna prolong the moment." "Rick, I-I can't," Morty nearly sobbed, painfully erect. Luckily for him, Rick was feeling generous, or maybe just a little impatient himself, because his fingers moved so deftly across Morty's jeans that he had to blink a few times to make sure that Rick had actually undone the zipper. Of course, it didn't help that the weed had muddled his brain so effortlessly. "Happy?" Rick asked wantonly, grabbing the hem of Morty's pants to pull them down past his ass. Morty gasped at the obvious outline of his cock underneath his boxer briefs, looking back at Rick with innocent suggestion in his eyes, and Rick had to stifle another laugh. "You're so easy," he said, shaking his head, and well, Morty couldn't really refute it, so instead he worked his scrawny arms around the back of Rick's neck and kissed him lewdly, sucking his bottom lip between the edge of his teeth to demonstrate just that. Rick teased at the band of Morty's underwear with a painstakingly slow pace that only made Morty whine more, his little impatient sounds drowning in his grandfather's mouth. "Rick," he whispered desperately until it practically became a mantra. "Rick, Rick, Rick." "Okay," Rick murmured sweetly, planting his lips in the arch between Morty's neck and shoulder before freeing his erection from his boxers and helping him to wiggle out of the rest of his clothing. "Jesus Christ," Rick sighed, eyes roaming hungrily over the naked image of his grandson sitting in his lap. It was almost too much to bear, even for someone who had seen as much as he had in his lifetime. "Yeah?" Morty asked shyly, eyes trained anywhere but on Rick. "Yeah," Rick grinned. He trailed a thumb down the center of Morty's chest, taking all of him in before resting his hand dangerously close to the top of Morty's thigh. "Y-You want me to touch you?" "Yes," Morty cried, nails digging into the fabric beneath them. "Please, Rick, I--" Rick interrupted him by running the tips of his fingers up the length of Morty's cock, barely brushing the skin as if testing the waters. Morty moaned with sweet relief, his nerve endings sparking up with a sensation that felt like fire. "Are you sure about this?" Rick whispered, needlessly close to Morty's ear. "There's no going back o-once we start, Morty." The fact that Rick was giving him an opportunity to back out touched him in a way that made him absolutely sure that this was what he wanted. For an asshole, Rick still had redeeming qualities that kept Morty coming back for more. "Y-Yeah, Rick," Morty stammered, gazing into his grandfather's eyes with a sureness that he seldom displayed. "I'm sure." Rick responded by wrapping his languid fingers completely around the shaft of Morty's erection and giving a deliberately slow tug, causing Morty to squirm back against the steering wheel in embarrassment. "Don't get shy now," Rick tutted, darting his tongue out to meet Morty's jawline. "Sorry," Morty gasped, cheeks turning redder by the second. "I-It's just a- a lot..." Rick laughed. "I-If you think this is a lot, Morty, just wait." End Notes If you enjoyed this please help yourself to my other works and check out my sin blog over on tumblr: rickandmortysincave (I will not apologize for shameless self promotion damn it). 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