Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12299490.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith, Rick_Sanchez_&_Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez_(Rick_and_Morty), Morty_Smith, Beth_Smith_(Rick_and_Morty),
      Summer_Smith, Jerry_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Sex, Incest, C137cest, Slow_Burn, Eventual_Smut, Rick_Being_an
      Asshole, But_good_to_Morty, Love, Other_Additional_Tags_to_Be_Added, Not
      Beta_Read
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-08 Completed: 2017-10-15 Chapters: 6/6 Words: 8255
****** My Sweet Boy ******
by LadyCindy
Summary
     This story both is and isn’t finished. It’s come to a satisfying
     conclusion but I do want to come and add more later, though I may
     just make another work in the series. I’m marking it as complete but
     I will continue it at a later date, either as new chapters or a
     sequel.
      
     Rick tries to keep Morty out of his head by nailing a barfly. It
     doesn’t go well and he ends up in Morty’s bed (innocently, for now.)
Notes
     This is my first time publishing a fanfic so I’d love to know what
     you think. I hope you enjoy it!
     This is basically a preface chapter. They will get longer, I promise.
     This chapter begins with Rick fucking a random person, but it’s not a
     relationship and it only matters to show his reactions to the tryst.
     Rick’s thoughts are in italics.
***** Barfly *****
“Wanna come home with me and play doctor?” purred the woman. (Candy?...or was
it Cindy? Melissa, maybe?) It hardly mattered; she was willing and he really
needed to get Morty off his mind. 
They sloppily kissed their way to her couch where he collapsed into the plush.
She deftly unhooked his belt and undid his trousers, encouraging him to lift
his ass so she could drop them to the floor. She was disappointed to find his
ample dick completely soft. “Not aURPgain. Fuck,” tumbled out of his mouth as
she tried to rectify the situation with hers. “Getting worse, Morty.” Luckily
she missed his drunkenly slurred comment to himself as she was standing up and
starting a striptease to entice him when he muttered it; as she did she gave
him her sultriest smile and come-hither look. Rick came here to get Morty out
of his head, who he was finding it ever more difficult to resist; for now he
closed his eyes, picturing the boy’s slight frame, the curly brown hair with
the single lock that always fell into his face, the open and trusting
expression he wore regardless of what he experienced, and the innocent
expression of love Rick had seen in his eyes more times than he had any right
to be on the receiving end of from anyone, especially him. There was no way
Morty knew what simply being in his proximity did to his grandfather. What kind
of sick piece of shit wants to fuck his own grandson? Would be so fixated on
him that he could only get it up for the buxom redhead servicing him by
thinking of the boy?
The nameless woman (Mel? Missy? Jennifer?) climbed into his lap and quickly
inserted him into herself, not seeming to care that he still had his eyes
closed, obviously in another world with someone else. After she took her
pleasure she slapped him as hard as she could, given her own state of
drunkenness, tearing him away from the vision of his grandson sitting on his
lap luxuriating in his cock. He knew he deserved to be slapped, and ever so
much worse, but not for the reason she did it.
”Should I bother continuing? Are you going to participate?” She got her answer
as he was obviously deflating now that he had been dragged out of his fantasy.
“Get the fuck out of here, asshole.” He put himself back together without
saying a word and had already grabbed the flask from the pocket of his lab coat
and was taking a long drink as he called forth a portal and stepped back into
his workshop.
He immediately dropped into his chair and grabbed the closest bottle of
alcohol: almost pure ethanol bought off-world, just what he needed to forget
about his obsession with his grandson for a while. “What a disa-disaster. I’m a
sick basURPtard, Morty.” He sat drinking and quietly berating himself until he
could barely stand or think. His intention was to drink until he blacked out on
the floor of the garage but tonight he couldn’t stop himself from going to see
the teenage boy that was both his blessing and his curse. He insisted to
himself that he only wanted to check on Morty but he still took the precaution
of not going up until he knew he was far too drunk to even be capable of
getting an erection.
He stumbled through Morty’s door, closing the door behind him. He took a moment
to watch his peacefully slumbering grandson in the moonlight before he
staggered over and sat on the bed next to him. “Hey. Hey there Sweet Boy,” he
said while rubbing Morty’s back, trailing his fingers up and down the boy’s
spine, happy just to feel his smooth skin. Morty rolled over and graced him
with an angelic sleepy smile. He couldn’t stop picturing the boy’s soft lips
wrapped around his hard cock. “Move over kURPid, so your grandpa can lay down
for a-for a minute.” The boy obliged with a look of what Rick could only
interpret as trepidation: a faltering smile and his cheeks pinkening a few
shades; the boy giving him a smile that, if anything, intensified his fantasies
of ravaging him.
He stripped to his boxers and undershirt and lay down so they were face to
face, never moving his eyes from his grandson. He gently moved the troublesome
lock of brown hair off of the boy’s face. “L-Love you my Morty.” he managed to
get out before passing out with his hand possessively draped over the smooth
bare skin of the boy’s waist. 
***** Little Rabbit *****
Chapter Summary
     This is really a continuation of chapter 1.
     Rick's thoughts are in italics.
Rick was awoken a few scant hours later from the sensation of water hitting his
face. Morty was standing before him, one slim leg crossed over the other, so
innocent and sweet with his hair mussed, eyes downcast, a small frown curling
down his lips, shiny with a soft sheen of saliva, the bottom lip ever so
slightly held between his teeth, hairless chest and abdomen, one hand behind
his back, the other grasping a glass of water. "What the fuck are you doing you
dumb little shit?"
"Aw geez, R-R-Rick. I tried to shake you aw-w-wake. It's morning; m-m-mom will
be awake s-s-soon. She'll be m-m-mad if she catches us."
"Damn it kid, hand me my fucking flURPask." Sitting on the edge of his
grandson's bed, eyeing the boy's barely covered body, nothing but a pair of
basketball shorts between him and the damnation he yearned for, the only thing
Rick's mind could process was the overwhelming craving to rip the shorts off
the boy's body, his boy's body, and punish him for that little stunt: spanking
that tight white ass until the boy cried out his name, not caring whether it
was due to pain or pleasure, his rock hard cock pressed up into the boy's
chest, the youthful body of his grandson rubbing it with each hard whack,
turning that ass a shade of crimson that would guarantee the boy could think
only of Rick every time he tried to sit for the next week. You fucking depraved
old bastard. That's your goddamn grandson and all you can think about is
burying your cock in his ass, using a child to fulfill your own corrupt
desires. Though uncommon it wasn't unheard of for a Rick to use his Morty
sexually; Rick C137 understood that that is what they were doing: using them,
like a tool, like a tissue: disposable and easily replaced when they were used
up and destroyed. Rick didn't have many scruples but he did see his Morty as
more than a piece of trash; he found his affection love for the boy quite
inconvenient. It didn't matter how hard he fought the twisted feelings wrapped
up in that affection, he couldn't banish them; only the alcohol allowed him the
control to not ravage the boy and he knew its power was waning. "Come here you
fucking idURPiot and help me to my room. And bring my shit." He could have
stood by himself and he could have made it down the hallway alone but he was
desperate to feel the boy's delicate body against his own.
Morty surprised his grandfather by not only following him into his room, but
closing the door behind them. Rick's hope briefly flared that the boy had come
in to fulfill all of his perverted fantasies, willing the youth to remove his
shorts and beg his grandfather to fuck his tiny hole. The youth folded his
grandfather's previously discarded clothes, leaving them on the man's chair
before walking back to the door. "Fuck out of here, kid, let me sleep." was the
only thanks the boy received.
"Umm, R-R-Rick is there anything you need?" Knees. Crawl over and put those
soft, pink lips to some use. Bend over that chair so grandpa can utterly
destroy your tight little ass. Damnit, Sanchez, you sick fucking deviant. Rick
realized the boy was standing with his hand on the doorknob, watching him,
waiting for a response. He managed to whisper-yell "Get. Out. Now." before
tipping his flask to his lips, draining the last of the liquid fire down his
throat and throwing the flask across the room. The resulting crash made the boy
jump and skitter from the room like a scared little rabbit driven from the
safety of a hedge; Rick knew that his little rabbit would only be safe out of
this room and away from him. He fell back on his bed, not bothering with the
quilt, and slept, waking only when the house was quiet and he was blessedly/
cursedly alone.
***** Faking it *****
Chapter Summary
     An adventure gone wrong leaves Morty shaken. He depends on Rick for
     comfort. Rick's torment continues and he starts to come apart at the
     seams.
Chapter Notes
     Rick's thoughts are in italics.
Morty was practically catatonic in the passenger seat. Rick had not been in
control during the adventure. I could have lost Morty, could have fucking
killed my boy then where would I be? Jesus, Sanchez. There were infinite Mortys
so Rick shouldn't have been so stressed at the thought of losing the boy, there
was no logical reason for it, as there was no logical reason to work so hard at
keeping his hands off the boy out of concern for harming him but he couldn't
bring himself to even imagine just replacing his Morty. He stopped the ship in
the middle of nowhere and ordered it to keep them safe while he helped his
grandson move to the bed he had set up in the back years ago. He laid the boy
down, ruffled his hair and was moving back towards his seat to guide them home
when the youth's small hand grabbed his sleeve. "S-s-stay please" whimpered the
boy, a look of quiet distress creating lines in his face that had no right to
be there. At least he was talking again. With a sigh of irritation Rick sat on
the edge of the bed furthest from his grandson; to his delight and dismay the
boy immediately scooted over, laying his head high on his grandfather's thigh,
his small arms wrapped about the same leg. Even with the teen traumatized,
hell, especially with him traumatized Rick found it almost impossible to resist
touching his trusty sidekick whose head now rested no more than a couple of
inches from his quickly hardening dick.
Rick spied a bottle of ice-blue alcohol he had picked up on a recent
interstellar errand, a bottle that had gotten lost beneath his seat. He
gratefully grabbed the bottle and poured several ounces down his throat. It
wasn't fire so much as lava: dense and burning in a way that clung to every
cell it touched. It seemed almost alive as it oozed down his throat. It was
still courage in a bottle and helped him gain just enough control to not grab
his grandson by the hair he was currently smoothing in order to force the boy's
head down on his cock. Sick fucking degenerate. You almost kill him; that's
still not enough to get you to stop imagining raping him. So beautiful and so
breakable. Rick flooded his throat with a quarter of the bottle of blue lava.
He couldn't take his eyes, or his mind, off of his beautiful boy: the thick,
curly hair stuck to his head with the sheen of sweat from running from the
Katayan guards; the goosebumps still peppering the boy's otherwise unblemished
skin; the downiness his body hair hadn't yet lost to full-on puberty; the
slimness of every part of his body, inherited directly from himself (Rick's
cock twitching at yet another reminder that this was, in fact, his very own
grandson); the way his body was almost imperceptibly trembling, the last of the
adrenaline only now draining out of his delicate body. Rick attempted to
distract himself by closing his eyes, leaning back, and letting his body relax
but this only enhanced his other senses: he could hear the shuddering breaths
the boy was taking, feel the exact lightly course texture of the hair his
fingers were currently wrapped up in, and became almost overwhelmingly aware of
the scent. Damn that scent, Rick was now so aware of it he could taste the
sweetness of the natural scent that belonged to his grandson alone, with just
an edge of musk, the acidic tang of his adrenaline-laced sweat and the soft
citrus of his soap. 
Rick dug the fingernails of the hand not wrapped up in the boy's hair into the
flesh of his palm, grounding himself in the pain in his resolve to not pillage
the body of the nubile youth with his head currently resting mere inches from
Rick's now dripping dick. Damnit my boy you don't know what you do to me, how
completely irresistible you are to this depraved old man. Jesus, Sanchez,
you're fucking sick. You fucking traumatized him and still all you can seem to
think about is shoving your dick past those creamy, pliable lips and down into
his throat. Mother-fucker. Rick unconsciously tightened his grip on his
grandson's hair while simultaneously fantasizing about railing the boy and
railing at himself for those fantasies. He was able, barely, to let go of Morty
before he could find himself acting on his fantasies of forcing open those
perfectly soft, pink lips and thrusting himself down the boy's slender throat.
He flooded his own throat with another quarter of the bottle of blue lava and
found the strength to move his grandson's head off his lap, moving back up to
his seat setting a course towards home. Morty whimpered at the older man's
sudden departure. That one small noise pulled at Rick's heart, and to be
honest, at his dick as well. "It's - it's okay bURPuddy. Gr-grandpa's here"
Rick had to encourage the boy out of the ship when they got home. He saw Morty
following in his own example, though strangely in a behavior he didn't think
the boy had ever actually witnessed: standing at the threshold of the door to
the house schooling his expression until it looked completely natural. He could
see how the smile didn't quite touch the boy's eyes, though doubted that anyone
in that house would pay close enough attention to be able to tell. Fucking
hell. How long has he been faking his emotions? What else have I done to my
beautiful boy? Have I already fucking destroyed him? Even with his mind focused
on the boy's well-being his eyes lingered on the sight of the tender ass he was
barely keeping himself from destroying. "C-c-come in, too. P-p-please
Granddaddy." the object of his desire whimpered. Granddaddy? When the hell did
that start? And why the hell does he have to make this so much more difficult
by using that word? Rick's cock responded to it by once again oozing precum. He
buttoned his lab coat over himself to hide his painfully straining, dripping
dick."Sure - sure thURPing buddy." The boy turned, likely making sure Rick was
actually coming to the door. He needed his grandson to go inside so he could
have a minute to settle his goddamn body and change out of his now precum-
stained slacks. The teen seemed to have other ideas and he couldn't bring
himself to snap at the boy like he normally would when he was so obviously
traumatized by an experience that Rick couldn't deny was his fault.
Morty was able to greet the rest of the family like everything was normal and,
just as Rick had predicted, none of them noticed that he was faking it. He
settled the youth on the couch, finding 2_Brothers_2 on interdimensional cable,
the film apparently having gone straight to tv, while Rick took a quick trip to
his room, stripping out of his slacks and boxers almost before getting the door
closed behind him. He quickly locked himself in and spit in his hand,
immediately adopting a pace between the stroking of his fist and the thrusting
of his hips meant only to end his torment without trying to luxuriate in the
moments he'd spent lusting after his grandson during the trip that day. Closing
his eyes he pictured the events of the day taking a slightly different turn: he
lie down facing his grandson in the back of his ship, holding the boy's small
body against his own, heedless of the boy feeling his grandfather's granite
cock digging into his leg. One of his hands wrapped tightly into the boy's
hair, staring into his eyes as he roughly brought their mouths together,
devouring the teen's lips and tongue in a none too gentle dance.  He could feel
his grandson's smaller erection pressing into his own stomach. As turned on as
he was the image of Morty getting hard for him was enough to send Rick into
oblivion and he shot several ropy bursts of semen across the floor. He wiped
himself off and did a cursory clean-up of the semen he'd shot into the carpet
with one of his undershirts throwing it in the corner with the rest of his
hastily discarded garments, knowing he could easily clean up any leftover
protein stains later with a simple chemical solution.  Rick dressed in clean
clothes and went to check on his boy.
***** Dick measuring contest *****
Chapter Summary
     Jerry tries to face off against Rick, him being the man of the house,
     after all. Rick's control is slipping.
Chapter Notes
     Rick's thoughts are in italics.
Rick found Morty curled up in a ball in his seat on the couch, rather than the
center spot the boy would normally take, worrying his thumbnail between his
teeth and somehow managing an expression that seemed to reference both
innocence and innocence lost. Rick was just enjoying watching his boy for a
moment when his idiot father walked in "Are you sucking your thumb?"
Rick shot the idiot a look of pure venom, "The fuck is wrURPong with you
dipshit? Wonderful goddamn parenting there and so observant, too. Maybe you
could get the kid a nail file so he doURPesn't leave chewed up fingernails all
over the couch." Rick smirked as Jerry went to do exactly as Rick had
suggested, muttering to himself about what an asshole Rick is and how nobody
loved or respected him. Jerry returned, handed his son the nail file, spinning
on his heel to face off against Rick, trying to get into his face, going off
about being "the man of the house" while his voice slowly rose in pitch. Don't
kill him, he's Beth's idiot. At least not right here right now. Rick was still
standing watching his boy, even seeing the ghost of a real smile on his face at
hearing Rick order Jerry around. Thank fuck, he'll be okay Beth started yelling
at Jerry to stop trying to measure dicks with Rick. Only then did Rick turn and
look at the other man, smirking at the dejected look the supposed man of the
house was now wearing.
With a barely perceptible nod Rick got his grandson to scoot over enough for
him, speaking in a language only the two of them knew, to claim his space. The
boy immediately curled up against him as soon as he was settled. The idiot
looked like he wanted to say something about this new seating arrangement but
one icy look was enough to get him to sit quietly. Rick obviously, if quietly
was openly laughing at Jerry at this point; he had once again shown who was the
superior male specimen and true man of the house, not that there had ever been
any doubt.
The rest of the evening passed in stony silence: Beth too angry with her idiot
to talk, Summer busy with her phone as usual, Jerry was pouting and Rick gave
him a look so full of poison anytime he opened his mouth that he stayed quiet
and morosely played some moronic matching game on his tablet; nobody noticed
Morty's silence which was exactly what Rick had intended.
Morty went to bed with a single word to the family "T-t-tired" just an hour
after dinner was finished. Rick retrieved the bottle of almost gelatinous blue
alcohol and filled his flask with whiskey for good measure, taking both with
him to his own room, intending to make an early night of it as well. He saw
Beth and the idiot still arguing on his way through, the idiot practically
sniveling; Rick smirked at him one last time for good measure before retreating
to his bedroom. A day of death-defiance, an explosive orgasm, and dominating
his daughter's idiot really had worn him out.  He stripped to his boxers and
undershirt and climbed into his bed, making sure his alcohol was still within
reach.
Rick dipped in and out of sleep for the next few hours. He was lying awake with
his mind drifting onto the only subject that truly baffled the super-genius:
his beautiful boy.  It didn't take much for him to picture every curve of the
boy's body, every hair on his head.  He could almost smell his grandson's sweet
scent that was only in recent months developing a hint of musk. He had just
snaked his hand under his boxers, intent on luxuriating in the vision of the
youth, no matter how sick those thoughts were, when his door slowly
opened. Shit. He had obviously forgotten to lock his door. He was ready to bite
the head off of whoever had disturbed his sanctuary when he saw the vision of
innocent perfection that had admitted himself without so much as knocking. He
also saw the tears quietly slipping down the boy's face. Rick jumped from his
bed and half-carried his tormented, tormenting angel to his bed, pausing only
to lock the door behind them.
Morty lay down and immediately moved over enough to make room for his
grandfather, only enough to give Rick no option but to lie pressed up against
him. The boy was trying to say something but, through the snot and tears, Rick
couldn't guess what it was. "It's - it's okay, grandpa's here for you bab-
buddy. You're safe. GrandURPpa won't let - won't let anything happen to you.
Shh, shh, shh, it's okay my swee...it's okay. Come - come here, let grandpa
hold and protect - he'll protect you. Shh, shh, shh." he soothed Morty while
shifting position to lie on his back, draping his grandson's slim chest over
his own so he could run his fingers up and down the boy's smooth skin to
comfort him. Comfort him, you sick old fuck. He's crying, he's scared because
of you, he's traumatized because of you and he still loves you, trusts you,
comes to you for comfort. And all you can do is wish he would straddle you
and Morty suddenly straddled his grandfather's waist, lying down on his chest,
his head immediately buried against Rick's shoulder. "Morty, what the - what
the fuck?" he snapped.
"I-i-it wasn't comfortable." mewled the boy "Is i-i-it okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's okay my sweet boy," Rick's pet name for the boy slipping from
his lips without his permission. "Just go - just go to sleep now. Grandpa's
here." His voice came out as a growl it was so husky with his need for the
delicate creature lying innocently and so provocatively above him, his knees
pressed up up tightly against the sides of Rick's chest with his ass cheeks a
mere couple of inches too far up Rick's body for him to slide his cock between
them. The boy lifted his face up, giving him a smile completely full of love
and trust. Rick knew he had no right to receive a look like that, a look as
close to the divine as could possibly exist in any universe.
Morty quickly fell silent and limp as he seemed to have finally cried himself
out and calmed. The boy's body slipped further down Rick's body as he went
slack. Rick's dick, now seemingly carved out of granite, was suddenly very
firmly pressed against the underside of the boy's scrotum and ass crack, almost
precisely where Rick had been dreaming of moments before. Rick groaned
throatily, "Oooooooh Morty," tumbled out of his mouth in a moan but the boy
stayed bonelessly sleeping on him, apparently still completely oblivious to the
noises he was making and to the rock-hard cock pressed up against his own
groin. Rick buried his face into the boy's curly brown mop and allowed his
fingers to gently wander the back of his very own harbinger of doom/
cherub. Fuck, fuck, fuck, Morty. I have never needed anything like I need you.
I can't stop here, baby boy. You don't know what you do to me. I love you, I
love you my sweet boy. You're mine, my own sweet baby now and Daddy needs you.
Rick slowly moved his hips, thrusting up against the boy's young ass. He
carefully reached behind the boy to release his hard-on to thrust against his
grandson's hardness and tender ass. Hard? Morty is hard? It must be from the
friction, that has to be all it is. Fucking hell I need you my boy. Rick waited
to ensure his grandson was still asleep before using his hand to make a tunnel
against his boy that he could fuck into. He retained just enough control of
himself to keep from ripping the kid's only piece of clothing, his thin
basketball shorts, off of his body. He slowly fucked up into the tunnel he had
created against Morty's body. It didn't take long, even with the languid pace
he was setting, knowing he was touching the boy he loved, for the earth to
shatter below him, threatening to suck him down into its molten core, which
couldn't be any hotter than the cherub sleeping on his chest. He had the
presence of mind to pull his pulsating cock away from the boy's body when he
exploded, creating a sticky mess on himself and his sheets, but hopefully
sparing the boy's skin and clothes. Rick wiped his hands on his sheet and
encircled the boy in his arms. He finally fell asleep, sated, with his grandson
still on top of him.
Rick was only able to steal a couple of hours sleep before the weight of the
boy pushing down on him, slight though he was, became too much for Rick. He was
about to wake the boy when he became aware of more than his grandson's weight:
night wood; the boy's erection was pushing down into his grandfather's naval.
Perhaps he didn't need to move the boy immediately. I'll have him move when his
hot little cock goes down. He'd be embarrassed to know that he was grinding
into my stomach. Grinding? Is he rutting against me? The boy's movements were
really too small and erratic to be considered anything more than spasms. "Hey.
hey Buddy. Y-you awake? Morty? Baby?" He has to be asleep. My sweet, innocent
boy would never want his fucked up, dried up old grandfather. Finally confident
that Morty was asleep he slid his hands down to his grandson's hips, pressing
the boy as deeply into himself as possible. He moved the boy above him
painfully slowly, needing to feel his pubescent dick sliding against him.
Another deep moan escaped Rick's lips.
He recorded every sensation in his mind, torturing himself with the knowledge
that he'd never get closer than this to fulfilling his depraved fantasies of
consuming his grandson in the heat of his passion and also knowing that he
would remember this moment for the rest of his life, whether he wanted to or
not. Rick had to taste his grandson, to know if he tasted as sweet as he
smelled. The youth's shoulder was directly in front of his grandfather's mouth;
Rick leaned up enough to lick and suck the supple skin. The teen was ice cream
on the beach: sweet, smooth, creamy, and just slightly salty; he was an amalgam
of every untainted experience Rick had ever had. After a moment/eternity of
this new paradise/perdition the boy whimpered once and climaxed, a small pool
of warmth spreading between them, soaking all the way down to Rick's skin.
Rick spent minutes, or maybe centuries, lying beneath this enigma of a boy with
Morty's slowly drying cum bonding them together. He woke his grandson just
enough to get the boy off his chest, basking in the afterglow of his
clandestine activities. They both fell asleep with the teen's delicate body
wrapped in his grandfather's warm embrace.
***** Kiss and make up *****
Chapter Summary
     Rick can't handle his loss of control so he reverts to being an
     asshole.
Chapter Notes
     Rick's thoughts are in italics.
     They'll lose their minds soon, promise.
They awoke to the smell of pancakes and the sounds of domestic decidedly non-
bliss: Beth and Jerry arguing again in the kitchen, probably about Rick. After
disentangling himself from his grandson Rick got an old Flesh_Curtains t-shirt
from his dresser and slipped it over his grandson's head when the boy stood up.
He suggested his grandson go straight to his room to change clothes before
heading to breakfast. When pressed for a reason he pointed out the semen stain
on the front of the boy's shorts, ignoring the small streak left on the back of
them. Morty's look of embarrassment turned to abject horror when he saw a
matching stain on his grandfather's undershirt. The teen looked about to cry;
Rick just smiled at him "Hey bu-buddy. You're in pURPuberty, it happens. Nobody
else is going to - going to know."  The boy began to calm and even managed a
small smile before sneaking out of Rick's room.
When he was alone again Rick sunk back into his mattress, sitting on the edge
of it with his head in his hands.  He didn't move from this position until long
after the family had finished their breakfasts. He split his time between
heaping abuse upon himself and trying to find a way out of the purgatory he was
busy creating for himself by staying around the boy There's only one choice,
Sanchez, and you fucking know it. You have to leave, for good. If you leave it
will destroy him, just like it destroyed Beth. He felt only the barest twinge
of regret for having abandoned his daughter but the thought of doing the same
to his sweet, sweet boy was soul-crushing. If you stay you will destroy him.
Rick was not accustomed to having problems he couldn't invent a solution for.
Rick even considered modifying the memories of his daughter and grandkids -
completely removing himself from their lives. He smiled maliciously at the
thought of leaving his daughter's idiot's memories intact; let everyone think
he's crazy. He knew he couldn't bear to let Morty forget him; he also knew he
was too selfish to leave for good.
Rick spent days ignoring Morty, too ashamed of his molestation of the boy and
his urge to do that, and so much more, to him again that he couldn't stand
being in his presence. However unfairly, he was also angry with the youth for
making him want him so badly. Shame was not something Rick was accustomed to,
he had decided it was just another useless emotion decades before and, as such,
had shed it like a too-small snake skin. He was now flooded with shame since
his almost-rape of the sleeping child.
He let the boy go to school every day for an entire week, a record since he had
adopted the boy as his partner in crime and didn't let Morty help with his
work. Rick ensured his bedroom door was locked each night and was twice awoken
to someone attempting to open it. They didn't watch interdimensional cable
together; Rick even took to eating in his workshop. He made a conscious effort
to ignore the effect his avoidance was having on his grandson: the dark circles
under his eyes due to lack of sleep, the frequent burst blood vessels in his
eyes from crying, the dark mood he fell into more and more, the petty arguments
he started with everyone in the family, and his increasing isolation. Rick
tried to ignore all of this, but didn't do a very good job of it.
The following Saturday, the first in over a year he didn't take the boy on an
adventure, was filled with Beth, Summer, and even Jerry, confronting him trying
to wheedle out of him what was going on between the two of them. His
granddaughter proved herself far more astute that he ever would have guessed
and more protective of her little brother than Rick could had imagined.
"Grandpa Rick, why are you being such a prick to Morty?" her anger obviously
flaring in her expression, "Was he not a good boy for you?" she asked, waiting
expectantly, an all-too familiar smirk on her face. Holy fucking shit she can't
be asking what she's asking. No, no, no, no, no, no. Fuck, fuck, fuck,
fuck!  "You use him...to help on your stupid adventures, as an emotional
dumping ground, to cover your damn brainwaves, and who the hell knows what
else. If you keep hurting him I will find a way to destroy you." The girl said
without a hint of irony.
Rick laughed in her face, his own anger obvious in his expression. "Bitch, you
don't have the power to hurt me."
"Yeah, because you only love Morty." It was a statement, not a question.
"Love is an unnecessary emotion." And you fucking know she's right. You do love
him. "Get out of my damn garage, take your little girl opinions with you and go
fuck yourself with them." Their expressions mirrored each other, twin storms of
anger on their faces.
"Unless you want to end up completely alone I suggest you KISS. and make up."
Rick's mouth dropped open at these words, all the venom draining out of him. He
even felt a slight blush flush his cheeks. She knows. She fucking knows. Is she
actually telling me to fuck her barely teen brother? How fucking sick is that.
Oh fuck, Morty, what a fucking disaster. Her words sent his mind reeling, right
to what he was working so hard to avoid, images of ravaging the boy, starting
with those soft, full, lips. "If you don't start treating him like he deserves
you will pay for it." she added with a syrupy sweet smile, turning on her heel
and heading back into the house.
Rick collapsed to the floor, his back against his workbench, with his face once
again buried in his hands. He grabbed a bottle of 192 proof vodka he had
stashed under the bench, not able to deal with his own racing thoughts or the
straining hard-on he had any more. Jesus, Sanchez. You're a completely fucking
depraved piece of shit. First you can't stop picturing fucking your own
grandson's mouth and annihilating his virginal asshole and, now, the thought of
your granddaughter encouraging it has you cock cast in steel. You fucking sick
fuck.
Rick needed time and space to think and biting the idiot's head off when he
came out to discuss Morty only took the edge off his emotions. He got in his
ship and was quickly setting down on the moon; he occasionally made this trip
when he needed seclusion. Rick spent hours just thinking, sitting in his ship
stock still until long after dark before deciding he would just have to man up
and go home to have a talk with the boy.
He found Morty, as well as his daughter and her idiot, in front of the tv. It
being Saturday night his granddaughter was almost certainly off getting high
and shagging someone. She had always been much more like Rick than his boy ever
had. He stood in front of the teen who just stared straight through him like he
wasn't even there. "Morty. Morty. Morty. C-come on bURPuddy, I need another
pair of hands to help - to help with my new project. Come with - come with me."
"No." was all the boy said, not even bothering to look up into his
grandfather's eyes.
"Goddamnit, Morty. What? Am I supposed to get your dad to help?" The hopeful
look on Jerry's face was so goddamn pathetic it just infuriated Rick. "Fuck
off, Jerry, nobody wants you." The boy announced that he was going to bed. Rick
went back to his workshop to drink and get lost in his work. He had to deny the
urge to break something because he would have broken everything in his shop at
that point.
Rick did finally calm and was able to distract himself with his work.
***** A little electrical work *****
Chapter Summary
     Rick and Morty discuss both of their recent behavior.
Chapter Notes
     Rick's thoughts are in italics.
In the wee hours of the morning Rick realized he hadn't actually eaten anything
all day so he went into the house to rectify the situation. The television was
on; what Rick found when he went to investigate horrified him: his own sweet
boy holding a bottle of alcohol that could have only come from Rick's supply: a
purely clear liquor with pink bubbles and a pink glow coming off of it. The boy
was already obviously sauced. He didn't ignore Rick this time; he threw his
arms around his grandfather when Rick leaned down to check on him, burying his
face in his grandfather's neck. "C-c-come on Morty, we have to ta - have to
talk." He practically dragged the boy out to his workshop which had both
soundproofing and a lock on the door.
Rick tore the bottle out of the teen's hand once the door was shut and
shattered it on the backside of the door. "Goddamnit Morty. Wh-wha-what are you
thinking? You want to be like me?" I've destroyed him. I've fucking destroyed
him. Jesus, Sanchez. "Is that rURPeally what you fucking want?" I know you're
dumb but I didn't think - I didn't think you were that fucking stupid."
"Yes, okay. Y-y-yes that's what I w-w-want. You're m-m-my hero and I love you!
Fuck!" with that admission the boy broke down sobbing. "Fuck you Rick! You l-l-
left me. You - you wouldn't even t-t-talk to me. I hate you! You d-d-don't even
care about m-m-me. You don't c-c-care about - about anyone. Why bother s-s-
saving me if you hate me so much? Why? W-w-why goddamnit? You wouldn't even
care if I d-d-died! N-n-nobody matters to you."
"Morty, baby." Rick could say it once, he could say it once sober(ish). "I love
you, you little - you little shit. Look at me. Look at me for fuck's sake."
Rick grabbed Morty, putting one hand on either side of the boy's head, bringing
his face up so they were looking one another in the eye, their faces just
inches apart, "I. Love. You." Morty leaned forward, smashing his lips against
his grandfather's; Rick stepped between the boy's legs, leaving no space
between them. He deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue into Morty's young
mouth, drawing the boy's tongue into his. Both were moaning and grinding their
hard dicks against one another through their clothes. Morty locked his legs
together around the older man's hips, his arms pulling Rick into a deeper
embrace.  Suddenly the youth pushed his grandfather away bodily, vomiting the
alcohol he'd consumed onto the floor.
This gave Rick a moment's clarity. "We can't baby. We can't. I'm your
grandURPfather. And you're a - you're a fucking kid. And you're drunk. This is
wrong, Morty. Don't you - don't you see that? It's wrong, we have to - we have
to stop." Rick couldn't believe he was stopping this - an open invitation to
fulfill his most perverted fantasies and he was saying no; he never thought he
could have the strength to say no to his boy.
"I-I-I was your g-g-grandson last weekend too." Morty said softly, "You didn't
seem to m-m-mind when you were masturbating against m-m-my ass. I was awake the
wh-wh-whole time. Th-th-then you abandoned me like I'm nothing. No, even worse,
you a-a-abandoned me like a - like a - like a fucking Morty, completely fucking
replaceable." he screamed at his grandfather.
"I was - I was trying to take care of you." Rick said with his head hung in
shame, "I destroy everything I care about. I destroyed my dURPaughter, my wife.
I destroy every - everything I touch - everything I love. The way I - the way I
love is bad, Morty. I am no fucking hero." Rick snapped, red in the face from
shame, anger, and an overwhelming need to show the boy exactly why he was not a
hero. "I'm no hero, Morty. And this - doing this isn't something you cURPan
come back from." he continued sadly. He still hadn't stopped dry-humping his
grandson, though. "It's so wrong my love." Rick ran a thumb down either side of
the boy's face, drinking in his beauty, his innocence, and his strength. He
caressed the youth's lips with his fingers. "You haven't even gotten through -
gotten through puberty yet, I'm your grandURPfather, and you're drunk. You
deserve better, better than this, better than me."
"No," Morty said with more authority and self-assurance than Rick knew he
possessed. "S-s-stopping this won't change anything, Rick. I w-w-want you. I've
w-w-wanted you and just you for over a year. I l-l-love you and I'm not going
to stop. YOU are not something I can c-c-come back from, even if you b-b-break
my heart. It's too fucking late to say n-n-no. It's t-t-too late to save me
from you. I belong with you. I b-b-belong to you. Remember, Rick and Morty
for..."
"...a hundred years." Rick finished, smiling ruefully as he captured the boy's
mouth in his own. He could taste the sourness of the boy's vomit. Rick grabbed
the bottle of vodka he had previously abandoned, swirled some in his mouth and
spat it on the floor. Tipping the bottle to the boy's lips he encouraged the
teen to do the same. Hearing Morty say that they belonged together and that
Morty belonged to him finally broke Rick's resolve. If Morty wanted to be like
him or with him then he wouldn't hold back any longer. If the teen were
resigned to the damnation of Rick then Rick would enjoy the road to hell right
beside him. "I have to give you one last - one last chance to back out, Morty.
We can forget all of this, go back to our classic - our clasURPsic adventures
and never talk about tonight again."
"No. It's t-t-too late for that, Rick. S-s-stop stalling granddaddy. I need
you."
"And you want me here? Sitting on my - on my workbench? I could take you
somewhere tomorrow. I could take you on a real date." he offered while licking
and nipping the boy's neck and chest, leaving one hickey after another just
below where the neckline of his shirt would fall. "But if we start I'm not
going to be able to - able to stop. You want me? You'll get all of me and you
won't be pussing out once we start. I promise I'll make it good for you, no
matter when you're ready." Morty laughed at this. Seeing his boy happy again
finally pushed Rick past logic, reason, and the point of no return.
They both wore looks of greedy need as Rick grabbed the boy's hips, desperately
hammering their cloth-covered cocks together, simultaneously slamming their
mouths together, delving immediately into a deep kiss, his tongue probing the
boy's mouth. Morty's tongue quickly met his, entwining in a violently energetic
dance. Morty wrapped his legs once more around Rick's hips, his arms around his
grandfather's neck. "Fuck, my boy. I need you." Rick stepped back for a moment,
earning him a moan of loss from the youth's throat. He had Morty lift his hips
to remove the boy's sleep short. "You're such a good boy for your grandpa,
aren't you baby? So excitable." Morty could only respond with a whimper and
nod, already lost in passion for his grandfather. Rick jerked the shorts off
the boy's slim hips, the waistband momentarily catching on his very hard prick,
sending it bouncing against his stomach. The boy immediately attempted to wind
himself back around Rick's body but Rick stopped him, needing a moment to
appreciate the beauty of his boy aroused and waiting for him alone: the curly
brown hair, stuck up at all angles, refusing to be tamed; the way he was
blushing in various shades of red; his entrancing eyes, still puffy from his
recent lack of sleep, now overflowing with his inner fire of desire; the
goosebumps lifting his still downy hairs; his long, slender limbs, so like
Rick's own; and the sweet, wet cock pressed up against the boy's belly.
"G-g-grandaddy? C-c-can I help you undress?" Morty said with a shy smile. Rick
stepped forward to allow the boy to help him undress, his lab coat quickly
falling to the floor. The boy's reactions were dampened both by the alcohol and
the hormones coursing through his body. He was too anxious to get Rick's shirt
off of him to do so properly and wound up ripping the bottom few buttons apart
in his fervor to reach his grandfather's skin. 
"You're going to have to fix that you wanton little slut." Rick said with a
surprised, indulgent smile while smacking the boy's hip, as it was currently
more accessible than his ass. The teen's cock twitched hearing his
grandfather's dirty term for him. "You really can't wait to get your
granddaddy's cock buried deep in that tight little ass, can you boy?" Rick was
oozing precum but was going to make the boy's first time more memorable that
just a quick fuck no matter how crazy he drove himself in the process. His
grandson was clawing his back in an attempt at force him to just fuck him
already. "Boy, if you don't stop scratching I'll end up going in you dry and
you aren't ready for that. Ease off the nails." Rick chuckled warmly at this
grandson's enthusiasm.
He dragged Morty to the very edge of his workbench and slowly knelt down
between the boy's legs, his eyes never leaving his grandson's. He had the youth
hold onto his shoulders while he spread the boy's legs and began licking him
from his puckered hole, across his already tight testicles, and up and around
his cock, circling the head. He did this slowly and methodically, torturing the
boy by giving enough sensation to drive him to the edge of orgasm but not quite
enough to allow him to fall over that edge. Without warning he sucked the boy's
length into his mouth, extending his tongue to continue stimulating his
testicles. Rick had the finger and thumb of one hand locked together at the
base of Morty's shaft, behind his balls, creating a cock ring with his fingers
and preventing the boy from popping before Rick was ready.
He grabbed a tube of silicone grease used for lubricating electrical components
and covered the fingers of his other hand with it, sticking the tip of the tube
into his grandson's arse, squirting plenty of the lubricant into the boy's hot
channel. He began working a finger into him, kissing him passionately while
beginning to stretch the boy to accommodate him. When his grandson stopped
whimpering and started moaning he added a second finger, slowly fucking them in
and out of the boy's tight passage. He scissored his fingers in and out of the
tight teen, ensuring his grandson's first time was more pleasure than pain.
When he had three fingers moving in and out of the youth, still holding back
the boy's orgasm with one hand, he slipped his fingers out, finally lubing up
his dripping purple-red beast of a hard on and burying himself to the hilt in a
single stroke.
Morty immediately whined into his grandfather's mouth, attempting to wiggle
away from the intrusion. "Shh, shh, shh, my sweet, sweet boy. Just relax, trust
grandpa." The fingers Rick had been using to stretch the boy to accommodate him
were now digging into the flesh of his palm; he needed the pain to ground
himself in the necessity of allowing the youth's body time to adjust to his
length and girth, both of which were substantial. He had been with grown women
that hadn't been able to take him completely and he was now 100 percent buried
in this young virgin. "Such a good boy, my brave boy. You feel so good - so
fucking good my love."
When his grandson's body had settled onto him Rick began to slowly and gently
fuck the boy, angling to hit his prostate on every stroke. Morty seemed to come
undone with this new sensation, begging Rick to let him finish. "P-p-please,
ooooooh god, R-R-Rick. Fuck, fuck, f-f-fuck, pleeeeeease." There were tears
leaking from his boy's eyes from the endless build-up without any release.
Watching, hearing, and feeling his Morty come apart at the seams was quickly
bringing Rick to his own climax. He lost his rhythm, fucking the boy with wild
abandon, letting go of his grandson’s dick, finally allowing him to cum. The
combination of the boy's spasming channel, hearing his own name in the orgasmic
groan Morty let out, and the sight/smell/feel of the boy jettisoning cum over
both of their stomachs was enough to make Rick flood the boy with his orgasm,
Morty's name released from his lips in a gutteral growl.
The intensity of their orgasms had them hanging onto one another for dear life,
leaving both of them with scratches on their skin from the passion of the
other. Rick picked the boy up, his softening cock popping from the boy's ass
and a waterfall of fluid following, and carried him to his ship where they
could lie together in post-coital bliss. They quickly fell asleep together. 
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