Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11027730.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez, Morty_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      Nightmares, Canon_Death_Mention, Graphic_Description_of_Corpses,
      Suffocation_mention, First_Time, Oral_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Anal_Sex,
      Fluff_and_Smut, Incest
  Series:
      Part 2 of Nocturnal_visits
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-28 Words: 5164
****** Nightmare Catcher ******
by mr_bulldops_trash
Summary
     Morty took a shuddering breath. ”I had a – a nightmare.” Rick’s mouth
     fell open ever so slightly.
Notes
     This will make more sense if you read 'Keep going' first! This one
     took me disproportionately long. Sorry. But here you go, enjoy some
     smutty fluffy funtimes!
See the end of the work for more notes
Morty had a tendency to scratch his neck when he was nervous. He was doing it
now, trying to unstick his sweat-stained t-shirt from his skin and absent-
mindedly scratching away while he stared at the door in front of him. The door
to Rick’s room. It wasn’t all that late in the night, just barely past twelve
thirty – he could still hear the faint sounds of the TV downstairs, where his
parents had probably nodded off in the middle of a Netflix movie – but even if
it had been four or five in the morning, Rick would have been awake, Morty was
sure. The man didn’t believe in sleep, during night-time at least. Morty might
catch him snoring with his forehead against his desk in the garage in the
middle of the day, but at night, he stayed awake. Working. Drinking. Keeping
watch.
Knowing this didn’t make it any easier to take the next step. If he could have
pretended that his knock would go unanswered, that Rick would be sound asleep,
it would have given him more courage to actually do it. Morty sighed with
frustration. A year ago, or even two weeks ago, this whole thing wouldn’t have
been a problem at all. But ever since that night – the night when Rick had
appeared into his room while he was masturbating and told him to keep going –
everything had been much more problematic than before.
Since then, they hadn’t been going on any adventures, and despite the fact that
it was nice not to be in a danger of dying all the time, Morty found himself
missing the craziness. Or more likely, missing Rick. They had been keeping up
some semblance of normality in front of Beth and Jerry, with all the usual
dinner table talks and such, but whenever they were left alone together, the
elephant in the room became too pressing and one of them would quickly leave.
Morty had been going to sleep uncharacteristically early and Rick was spending
increasing amounts of time behind the locked door of his bedroom instead of the
garage.
A few days ago, Morty had suddenly become aware that Rick actively avoided
saying his name out loud, even though he usually spat it out almost every five
seconds. The realization had felt like a stab to the chest.
This had to end. He couldn’t live without Rick by his side anymore. Now he felt
like he had a good enough excuse to get Rick to talk to him, but he was fucking
terrified nevertheless. It’s do or die time now, Morty, so fuck it. He knocked
on the door.
”What?” was the annoyed answer. ”It’s – urrp – open, dammit. Unless it’s Jerry,
then you can fuck right off.” Morty stepped in to find Rick splayed out on his
bunk bed, watching his little travel TV. The teen closed the door behind him
before he would lose his nerve, and the look on Rick’s face was remarkably
close to being alarmed. ”What are you – what do you want?”
Morty took a shuddering breath. ”I had a – a nightmare.” Rick’s mouth fell open
ever so slightly.
A couple of years ago, when Rick had appeared on the Smith family’s doorstep
and started dragging Morty along with his crazy adventures, Morty had already
been suffering from nightmares. His imagination ran overactive, and combined
with his anxious tendencies, it often led to restless sleep. It wasn’t much of
a surprise that after being introduced to the strange and violent things that
happened outside of his familiar world, the bad dreams had gotten much worse.
He would often wake up covered in sweat and with tears on his face, unable to
get back to sleep.
Once, he had fallen asleep in Rick’s spaceship on the way home from some
distant star system or another. Upon waking up with a scream of terror from a
particularly horrifying nightmare, he had been embarrassed and expected Rick to
make fun of him. But to his surprise, his grandfather had merely asked whether
he had been having nightmares for a long time. When Morty had admitted that it
had been a problem for a while now, Rick had nodded with an air of
understanding. ”The next time it happens, y-you come and tell me, okay, Morty?”
Confused but secretly pleased, Morty had promised to do so. It hadn’t taken
more than a couple of nights for him to wake up with a start from another dream
full of flesh-eating plant monsters and other insane things that he now, to his
eternal regret, knew to actually exist. So, hoping his grandfather would have
some Rick-esque invention at hand to clear away the memory of the nightmare,
Morty had walked downstairs, where Rick had been watching a late night rerun of
Ball Fondlers. ”Rick?” The scientist had looked up at him, his face half-lit by
the TV screen. ”I had a nightmare. Y-you told me to, to tell you if –”
”Come here, Morty.” Rick had gestured to the couch. ”Lie down.” Completely
nonplussed, Morty had done as he was told, pulling a decorative pillow under
his head. He had pulled his knees towards his chest to fit between Rick and the
end of the couch, but Rick had scoffed and grabbed his ankles. ”I can handle
your fe–urrp–eet on my lap, Morty, don’t be – don’t be such a chicken shit,
jesus.” After lowering Morty’s bare feet on his lap, Rick had grabbed a blanket
that Beth had left on the armchair and thrown it over Morty. He had then
resumed watching the TV and started gently scratching Morty’s ankle through the
blanket.
After about a minute of this with absolutely no explanation, Morty had blurted
out: ”What the hell are you doing right now, Rick?”
Rick had let out one of his typical long-suffering sighs. ”Look, Morty. I’m not
– I’m not usually one for psychology and other touchy-feely pseudo-science
shit, but t-there’s actually some pretty convincing evidence that physical
reassurement is the most ef–urrrp–ffective way to get over nightmares. So how
about you shut your damn mouth and go to sleep, Morty. It-it’s okay.”
Morty had shut his damn mouth, unsure what exactly to make of this previously
hidden side of Rick, the side that was petting his feet like he was a lapdog,
and seemed to find it completely natural. But he couldn’t deny that it felt
genuinely calming. He had soon found himself drifting back to sleep, feeling a
whole new sense of safety from the physical connection with Rick. The next
morning, he had woken up from his own bed and wondered for a moment if the
whole thing had been a dream – but the blanket from downstairs had still been
on him, so he had come to the conclusion that Rick must’ve carried him to bed
(most likely through a portal, rather than the stairs). Morty couldn’t remember
the last time he had slept so peacefully.
Ever since the first time, it had become somewhat of a habit. They never ever
discussed it, and it was like the whole arrangement only existed during those
moments after Morty’s nightmares. He would find Rick in the night, say that
he’d had a nightmare, and Rick would just nod and make room on the couch.
Sometimes the scientist would be in his own room, and Morty would lay down on
his bed, and Rick would sit next to him and work on his laptop with one hand
while petting Morty with the other. He’d always wake up in his own bed, thanks
to Rick’s portal gun.
But the times when Rick would be in the garage when Morty came to him had
quickly become Morty’s secret favourites. Because then they would climb up to
Morty’s room, and since Rick had nothing to work on or watch there, he would
usually lay down next to Morty and start telling some stories about the places
he’d been to, in a low and steady voice. The stories never made much sense, he
would just ramble on about the prices of KLax on thisplanet or the batshit
insane political system on that dimension, but listening to Rick’s voice and
having him scratch his arm gently always made Morty fall into a content sleep
in no time.
The nightmares had become much rarer after Rick had started helping him, and he
had soon been down to one or two of them a month. But occasionally – when he
felt alone in a way that he couldn’t describe and had a hard time falling
asleep, he would go to Rick and tell him he’d had a nightmare, when in the
reality, he hadn’t even slept. At first, he hadn’t precisely know why he did
it. But when Rick had lied down on his bed one night and Morty had felt a very
familiar kind of warmth in his crotch… Well, that had definitely cleared some
things up for him.
It was horrible, of course. How the hell does one even develop a boner for his
own grandfather? Morty had been so ashamed that he had tried to put a complete
stop to the whole comforting arrangement, promising himself that he wouldn’t
seek Rick out like that anymore. But his willpower proved too weak to take the
night-time horrors, and he had soon found himself back in bed with Rick, taking
extra care to sleep on his stomach. It was just a puberty thing, he had told
himself when Rick’s touch had made a shiver of pleasure run down his spine. Any
warm body next to his would have had the same effect.
When Rick had gone to space jail and Morty had been forced to face his
nightmares alone, it had been hard. For a while, it had been almost impossible.
The bad dreams had multiplied in the wake of Rick’s absence and Morty had
barely slept at all for weeks. When Beth had noticed his sleeplessness, she had
tried to make him see a therapist, but Morty had insisted that he wouldn’t need
it. He had refused to have some stranger ask invasive questions about how
exactly Rick’s nightmare-fighting method had worked.
So he had lied awake in the night, afraid to fall asleep, trying to scatter the
bad dreams away by imagining Rick was there with him. Imagining his touch, his
voice, the hidden gentleness. And imagining Rick inevitably led to all the
darker thoughts and feelings that he had tried to keep under a lid. In
hindsight, he supposed it had only been a matter of time before he had started
masturbating while thinking about Rick. He had found that it helped him fall
into a more peaceful sleep. He had tried not to think about the psychological
damage it might cause.
By the time Rick had returned, Morty’s feelings towards him had been a
clusterfuck of confusion. But he had done his very best to keep up the normal
appearances. Warily, without discussing the matter, they had once again entered
their nightmare-banishing arrangement, although keeping it much rarer than
before. There had been a layer of tension in it for Morty, because he couldn’t
stop thinking about all the filthy things he’d imagine about Rick whenever he
jerked off. He had been wondering about how much Rick could possibly read from
his face, being the genius that he was.
When Rick had walked into his room the other night and told him to keep going,
everything had gone upside down. And here he was, telling Rick that he’d had a
nightmare like the brat that he probably was, waiting what the scientist would
have to say about that. A drop of sweat trickled down Morty’s back and he
shivered slightly. The dream had been a bad one, worse than he’d had in a long
time.
Rick sat up on his bunk, poker face back on but with a wary look in his eyes.
”A – a nightmare, huh? Well, I suppose you should sit down and – and tell me
about it.”
About twenty different emotions ran through Morty’s mind at that, but he
focused very hard to keep his face straight. Rick had never, ever asked him to
tell about his dreams before, just helped him get over them. And Morty had
never offered to tell, only too keen to forget them. But in a way, it made
sense that he would share his nightmare now, since everything else was so
different too. So he stepped softly to the bunk and sat down, legs crossed,
opposite of his grandfather.
”I was – in the dream, I was in the garage. But none of your science stuff was
there. You weren’t there. I went inside to look for you, I asked Mom ’Hey,
where’s Rick?’… And she said ’Who’s Rick?’ And I got this horrible feeling,
like the ceiling was closing down on me, and I ran through the house and called
for you but you weren’t there. You weren’t – you weren’t there, it was like
you’d never been there, and I’ve never been so scared.
And I went to the backyard, because I n-needed some proof that you had been
there. I had a shovel, and I started digging up the… the b-bodies of our other
selves.” Morty put his face in his hands and took a few deep breaths. ”I found
myself. Only, the body was really decayed and the clothes were almost
unrecognizable. But it was me. I didn’t find the other you. I dug and dug and
dug, so deep that I couldn’t get out of the hole anymore, but you weren’t there
either. I laid down at the bottom of the hole and wondered if you were even
real. If I had just imagined you. I thought about living in the world without
you, a world where no one but me knew anything about you. And I really
panicked, and the walls of the hole started crumbling down and buried me. I
could feel the dirt falling on me and I couldn’t breathe.
That’s when I woke up.”
Taking more deep breaths, Morty fought to keep himself from crying at the
memory of the dream. He didn’t want to deal with a fucked up dream like this,
especially now that things between Rick and him were so tense. He wished Rick
would just tell him to lay down and start scratching his arm, to forget
everything else and just help him sleep. Finally, fearing what he might see, he
looked up to Rick.
The older man looked frustrated, one hand rubbing his temple. He sighed.
”Morty…” The teen’s heart did a little flutter at hearing his name from Rick’s
mouth again, he had missed it. ”I mean, shit Morty, that’s – I did not expect
that, to be honest. I-I don’t really know what to say here.”
”Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Morty replied, with just a little
bit of snark. Rick gave a little chuckle of approval.
”Sure, kid. But listen, I – I mean, that’s what your nightmare was about, me
not being there? That’s – I mean, that doesn’t even make sense, Morty, I think
we both know that your life would be a lot easier w-without me in it.” He was
looking away from Morty, a rare flash of guilt in his eyes. Upon seeing that,
Morty felt a flare of anger push aside the fear and anxiety inside him.
”That’s not true, Rick! How can you even, how dare you even say that?” He
shuffled closer to Rick on the bed, suddenly needing to touch him, and closed
his hand around Rick’s wrist. ”You might be a genius and all that, but you
don’t know what it’s like to be me. And you’re such an asshole sometimes, Rick.
But I’d rather die than live without you, and y-you better fucking believe it,
you son of a bitch!”
The kiss was as much of a surprise as the last one, the quick one they had
shared in the dark of Morty’s room less than two weeks ago. But this time, in
the light of the travel TV, Morty could see Rick’s face against his own, closer
than he had ever been, so close that he could see the long lashes of his closed
eyes. And it lasted longer, long enough for Morty to come down from his initial
shock, close his eyes and melt against the warm pair of lips, losing himself in
the aftertaste of vodka and some sour candy and Rick.
When Rick pulled away, Morty let out half a whine, needy and flushed. Rick’s
face was alarmed. ”Shit. I didn’t mean – I don’t – what the fuck have you done
to me, Morty?” He was blushing, and Morty was enchanted by the sight. ”Why
would you say shit like that? Why would you do shit like – like jacking off to
me? It’s – it’s not normal, Morty, and it’s not good.”
Morty’s heart sank. ”Do you hate me? Do you think I’m disgusting? I didn’t mean
for it to happen…”
”Of course I don’t hate you, don’t be such a pussy. It’s not like I haven’t
seen weirder stuff around the universe.”
”You kissed me. Twice now. You jacked off to me too, you came all over my chest
–”
”Fuck, Morty, don’t say shit like –”
”You did! Don’t try to deny it! You wanted it as much as I did. You still do.”
Rick looked absolutely beaten. ”You’re just a kid,” he said weakly. ”You’re my
grandchild.”
”I love you. You fucking jerk.”
That shut Rick right up.
”Look, Rick, I know it’s – it’s really weird and kinda gross and bad maybe, but
I can’t stop thinking about you like that, and I don’t fucking want to. I’ve
felt this way for a long time, and I’ve w-wanted you for a long time, and when
you came into my room the other night… I keep replaying it in my head, and it
makes me so hard, you have no idea.” Rick’s eyes were glazed over now, and both
of them were breathing heavily. Morty was still holding his wrist. ”Maybe
you’ll never love me back that way. Maybe you think I’m crazy. But I want you
to fuck me, Rick, I need it so badly…”
In a blink of an eye, Morty’s back hit the bed and he let out a surprised gasp.
Rick was on top of him, holding his wrists above his head, a hungry look on his
face. ”You are one twisted fucker, Morty,” he whispered before capturing his
mouth in another desperate kiss.
Morty squirmed, his dick growing harder by the second. ”T-takes one to know
one,” he blurted, out of breath, when Rick’s mouth left his for a second. Just
for that, Rick slid his free hand under Morty’s shirt and pinched a nipple. The
teen mewled with pleasure. He was hardly able to wrap his mind around the fact
that this was really happening. This was really Rick, his Rick, sucking on his
neck (probably leaving a hickey, but Morty couldn’t care less) and grinding
down on his crotch, the friction driving both of them crazy.
If this was what sin felt like, Morty couldn’t wait to be struck down and
dragged to Hell. He grabbed the shoulders of Rick’s lab coat and tried
frantically to tear it off him. The old man grunted by his ear, got up on his
knees and shed the coat in one swift movement, throwing it on the floor. He
wasted no time taking off his blue shirt as well and gestured for Morty to
strip away his own. Morty obeyed, mesmerized by Rick’s naked torso. The man’s
skin was thin and wrinkled in places, and he seemed almost sickly with how lean
his body was, but there were still hints of muscle, which didn’t surprise
Morty: he had seen his grandfather in action, and knew very well what kind of
bad-assery that body could perform in times of danger.
Morty had a feeling he was going to learn a lot of new things about Rick’s
body. The way it felt against his when they were both shirtless was already
enough to reduce him to a desperate mess. Their kisses were turning sloppier,
hands sliding along naked skin, Morty was letting out little moans. Rick moved
his lips to Morty’s jaw, throat, then chest, and lower still… When he reached
the tenting part of Morty’s pants, he breathed hot air through them before
looking up at Morty, the question clear in his eyes. Morty was grasping the
sheet with one hand and rubbing his nipple with the other. ”Riiiick,” he
whined.
Rick took that as a ”yes”.
Morty’s pyjama pants slid off effortlessly, releasing his leaking erection.
Morty’s face turned red when he saw Rick eyeing it approvingly. Then Rick bent
his head down to give it a lick and Morty’s eyes closed and his breath hitched.
Rick teased him with a few slow, long licks before taking the head into his
mouth, and Morty trembled. He knew, in the far back of his mind, that he should
have been alarmed about a great many things – his dick was in his actual
grandfather’s mouth, his parents were downstairs either dozed off or not, and
he was a teenager with no clue about anything except for how desperately in
love he was with said grandfather – but he found it hard to care about any of
that at the moment.
Rick had obviously done this before. He was sucking Morty like an expert, with
the perfect amount of pressure, fondling his balls at the same time. Morty had
not done any of this before, and was overwhelmed. Rick’s mouth was hot and wet,
and every once in a while he hummed a little and the vibrations travelled all
the way up Morty’s spine. Much too soon, the teen felt his edge approaching. He
wanted so much to go over, but no, not yet, this needed to last longer.
He grabbed a fistful of Rick’s hair and pulled him gently off his dick. ”St-
stop, stop… I don’t wanna come yet.” He sat up, face to face with Rick, and
kissed him, slow and deep. Then he put his arms around Rick’s neck and
whispered to his ear: ”I want you inside me, Rick…” Rick actually moaned at
that, before grinning wickedly.
”Oh, keep begging me, and you might get your wish, baby.”
Morty scoffed. ”Jerk.”
”W-what’s that? Doesn’t sound like begging to me.”
Morty was no stranger to letting go of his dignity, and considering the fact
that his veins seemed to be pumping some kind of liquid fire instead of blood
at the moment, he didn’t have to think for long before throwing it away.
”Please, Rick… I’ve been dreaming about your dick inside my ass, I’ve been
jacking off to it, I’ve had to stuff my face into a pillow so I wouldn’t scream
your name when I come. I’ve waited for so long. Please, take me. Fuck me.
Please, Rick.”
Rick’s pupils were dilated by the time Morty stopped speaking. Never in his
long life had be been so painfully hard. He didn’t say anything, just kissed
his grandson and reached to his bedside drawer to grab some lube. He pushed
Morty back down on the bed – the teen was panting, his cock leaking precum –
and spread his legs. Squeezing a generous amount of lube to his hand, Rick
started rubbing circles around Morty’s asshole. He wanted to go slow, but he
could tell Morty was even more desperate than himself, and he had seen Morty
finger himself before, so he knew the kid could take one finger no problem.
Rick pushed two slick fingers inside Morty’s ass, and the brunet’s gasp was
nothing short of ecstatic. Pleased with himself, the scientist started finger-
fucking Morty fast and deep. It burned at first, but in a good way, and soon
Morty was pushing back against Rick’s fingers, needing more. ”You like that,
don’t you, you lil’ weirdo?” Rick purred. ”Just wait until it’s my dick in
there.” He added one more finger, and Morty whined. Rick pushed, and scissored,
and wiggled his fingers, watching as Morty slowly turned into a complete wreck.
Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out. Morty yelped and threw a hand over his
mouth. ”R-Rick! What – why did…” he looked up and fell silent. Rick had stood
up and was stepping out of his pants. Morty couldn’t help letting out a small
whine as he was greeted with the sight that had plagued his thoughts for days
now: Rick’s cock, standing erect, for him. At another time, he wouldn’t have
thought twice about sitting up and taking it in his mouth, but at the moment,
his asshole was positively twitching in anticipation for taking it. ”Please,”
he gasped.
Fortunately, they were on the same page. Rick squeezed an absurd amount of lube
in his hands before throwing the tube away, and lathered it all around his
shaft. ”Hold your legs up,” he said, voice hoarser than usual due to arousal.
Morty obliged, and the sight of him like that, so open and vulnerable and
willing, almost made Rick choke up. But he swallowed down any unnecessary
feelings for the moment and positioned himself over the teenager. ”Deep breath,
Morty.”
The first inch caused a sharp shockwave of pain throughout Morty’s body, and he
squeezed his eyes shut, focusing all his strength to relax his lower body. It
was a lot to take, much wider than Rick’s fingers. Fresh beads of sweat
trickled down his temples. Suddenly, Rick’s hand was touching his cheek.
Gently. ”Are you okay, Morty?” Rick whispered. ”I don’t wanna hurt you.”
Morty took in a trembling breath as emotions overwhelmed him. I don’t wanna
hurt you. Morty couldn’t remember Rick ever saying something like that to him.
Something so caring. Loving. He wanted to cry. Instead, he pulled Rick’s face
to his and kissed him fiercely. It served to take the edge off the pain in his
lower body. Rick continued to push in slowly, and Morty’s body adjusted
accordingly. When Morty felt Rick’s hot skin meeting his underthighs and
buttocks, he knew that he had gone in as deep as possible. They were fully,
completely joined now, and Morty couldn’t have been happier. Rick stayed still
for a minute, both of them panting and trembling.
”Y-you good, Morty?”
”Yeah…” Morty wiggled a bit, getting comfortable. There was another sting of
pain, but much duller than before, and the curious pleasure of being filled was
starting to overpower it.
Rick, on the other hand, was quickly losing his battle against the all-
consuming ecstasy that radiated throughout his body from the place where he was
connected to Morty. He wanted to let go of all restraint and pound the kid to
the mattress so hard that the legs of the bunk bed gave up… But to his
surprise, he wanted even more to make sure Morty was feeling good. When did he
start caring so much? When did he start seeing his dimwitted grandson as an
equal? As someone who could be his lover?
He didn’t know. And he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment, because
Morty was whispering to him, telling him to move, and he was only too glad to
oblige.
Their lovemaking was furious but as silent as they could manage. Morty clung to
Rick with all of his limbs and let out low moans as the older man’s cock slid
inside him, impossibly deep. His own erection rubbed deliciously against Rick’s
lower stomach with every thrust and he knew he couldn’t possibly hold his
climax off for more than a minute or two. Their sweaty foreheads were pressed
together and the gasps and whispers breathed out in the inch of air between
their mouths mixed up and tangled until Morty couldn’t tell which ones came
from him and which ones from Rick.
Morty’s senses were filled with only Rick. The noises he made, his scent, his
warmth covering Morty’s entire body. The love threatening to burst out from the
depths of Morty’s heart. The wrongness of it all, and the dizzying mix of guilt
and arousal it made him feel. He was so close to the edge.
”Rick… I can’t hold on – I’m gonna –”
”M-me too. Fuck, Morty…”
Morty forced his eyes open and they met Rick’s. There was a look in them that
Morty had never seen before, an unguarded, blissful gaze – and it pushed Morty
right over. He climaxed with a long, shuddering whine, his whole body arching
off the bed and against Rick. The older man felt the contractions around his
cock and the hot cum hitting his stomach. He saw a bead of sweat roll down
Morty’s neck, and with a couple more thrusts he came undone as well. A grunt
that might have been a curse or his grandson’s name escaped him as he filled
Morty’s ass.
The small room was filled with the soft sounds of the two men catching their
breaths. Rick let himself slip out of Morty and fall down on the bed next to
him. It was much too tiny for two people, so he pulled the kid tightly against
his chest. Rick fleetingly thought about how his sheets were going to stink of
sex and ass-sweat. Well, he had endured worse.
Minutes passed in a satisfied silence. Rick thought the kid had fallen asleep,
when suddenly there was a soft voice: ”Rick. I don’t want this to be the only
time.”
Rick was very careful not to show any signs of undue gentleness, but he didn’t
loosen his hold of Morty either. ”Yeah well, I’d say that was good enough to
warrant a, a repeat performance.”
”Don’t be a dick. You know what I mean.”
”Obviously I do, Morty, I’m the genius here.” The older man hesitated, just for
a second. ”It’s a really bad idea and you know that. A real, real big risk to
take. If your parents found out – ”
”Well I wasn’t planning to suck your dick in front of them!” Morty’s eyes were
fierce as he turned fully towards Rick. ”Look, I know – I know you’ve been
happy to treat me as a complete moron for as long as I’ve known you, all that
talk about my idiot brainwaves and stuff, but can’t you for once just accept
that my thoughts are valid too?”
For the second time in one night, Rick found himself at a loss for words. He
noticed, for the first time, the way Morty’s stutter had gotten better over the
years and how it disappeared almost completely when he was upset or excited
about something. Then, finally, something inside him locked into its place, and
he felt an immense relief in just letting himself go. So he whispered ”Okay,”
as he pulled his grandson into a kiss.
End Notes
     I personally love the idea of Rick comforting Morty after nightmares
     a little too much.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!