Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5665693.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith, Tiny_Rick/Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez_(Rick_and_Morty), Morty_Smith, tiny_rick_-_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Established_Relationship, Nipple_Play, Public_Sex, Semi-Public_Sex,
      Agoraphilia
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-01-08 Words: 3817
****** Premature Erickulation ******
by TripleX_Tyrant
Summary
     In a universe practically identical to C137 (aside from the fact that
     Rick and Morty are in a secret romantic relationship), Morty has to
     come up with a plan to convince Tiny Rick to return to his old body.
     Tiny Rick loves being a teenager again, but Morty believes he isn't
     in as much control of this new body as he likes to think.
Notes
     Tiny Rick has been making the rounds of popularity on tumblr again,
     and a super kind anon messaged me asking if I was planning to
     contribute to the love. So I am. I've been largely inspired by a lot
     of fan arts and exciting, sexy text posts. Still, I wanted to try my
     own ideas, so I hope that this little fic adds something new to
     people's imaginings of Tiny Rick/Morty. Tiny Rick's personality has
     some interesting subtle differences from regular old Rick, so that
     was a fun challenge to work with.
See the end of the work for more notes
It was a shame. Morty hated to admit that Summer might be right about this. He
really wanted to go to that dance tonight with Tiny Rick. Sure, they'd still
have to keep the true nature of their relationship secret since they hadn't
kept the new teen's true identity under wraps, but Morty had been hoping to
find a secluded area where the two could share a dance or something. But he was
starting to think that Summer might be on to something. Those songs did sound a
little… angsty. The drawing, too.
“Morty,” Summer said pleadingly when Tiny Rick left the classroom, “you have to
help me!”
Morty wanted to tell Summer to leave it alone. Tell her that she was wrong and
that Rick was happy as a teenager. That hewas happy. With Tiny Rick, Morty
didn't have to deal with the age gap. He could pretend that his and Rick's
relationship was a little more normal. For once he could pretend that they had
their shit together. He wanted to accuse Summer of needing to get her shit
together. To pretend that she was the one who was mistaken about this whole
thing. But that was just it. Old Rick would have never stood for all this
pretending. Morty groaned.
“I really wanted to go to the dance with Tiny Rick.”
Summer rose an eyebrow in the snarky way she did. “Was he going to be your tiny
wingman?” she teased. “Come on. You know Rick pretty well, don't you?”
“Well yeah. I guess so.”
“What we need is to figure out what he hates about being a teenager. Find
something he really can't stand that'll make being old again the better deal.
Then torture him with it!”
“Um, gee Summer. I dunno i-if I wanna torture Rick,” Morty replied. Besides,
Tiny Rick emitted an energetic confidence that Morty couldn't imagine poking a
hole in. “M-maybe I can just talk to him. One on one. Maybe he'll do it for
me.”
This plan left Summer unimpressed, but she was willing to let Morty try the
gentle route first. Morty set out right away to locate Tiny Rick, finding him
in the kitchen standing on his toes and fiddling his fingers on the rim of a
glass, tipping it to grab it and bring it down from the cabinet's top shelf.
When he turned to find Morty standing close behind him, he jumped, then
laughed.
“So this is what it's like for you living all the way down here all the time,”
Tiny Rick said, rolling the glass between his hands.
“It's a little inconvenient, isn't it?” Morty agreed. “Hey, maybe Summer's
right after all. You don't wanna stay as Tiny Rick, not being able to reach
high places. I bet that would get- get pretty frustrating working in the garage
or when you're running errands. Don't you think?”
Tiny Rick sat his glass on the counter and gave a huff. “Oh I dunno, do I think
that? Or do I think my grandson should be thrilled that I even want to spend
time living on his puny level? I thought we were having fun, but you're just as
much of a buzz kill as Summer!” He stomped his foot.
“Damn, Tiny Rick, calm down. We're both just trying to be reasonable,” Morty
explained. It wasn't that Rick wasn't prone to his own outbursts, but in this
body he almost seemed somehow more unpredictable.
“W-were we being reasonable when we were jamming wooden stakes in Coach
Feratu's pasty torso? Maybe I'm the one being reasonable by wanting to actually
be the same age as the kid who's supposed to be my boyfriend!”
That stupefied Morty, and he only responded with, “Wha?” to which Tiny Rick
avoided responding by turning to the sink and snatching up his glass, slapping
the faucet on to fill it. “Did,” Morty started softly, stepping up behind Tiny
Rick as he drank, “D-did you really wanna go to the dance with me tonight?”
“Pff, I don't care,” Tiny Rick said into his glass.
Morty stepped closer, and Tiny Rick tensed when he felt the nearing body heat
against his back. As he held his arms out to pull Tiny Rick into a hug, Morty
thought about how strange this was, coming over Rick from behind, not to cling
to his arm or around his neck, but to hold him at the center. When Morty's
hands locked around Tiny Rick's torso, pressing chest to back, Tiny Rick
spluttered in his water. “Jeez Tiny Rick, you know you could have just said
so.”
When Morty nuzzled against his neck, Tiny Rick plopped the glass clumsily in
the sink, spilling the remaining water before gripping the edge of the counter.
“I said I don't care!”
The claims of uncaringness were a shared characteristic between Tiny Rick and
regular old Rick, but Tiny Rick certainly didn't have Rick's trained composure.
Morty could feel the way that his body heat sky-rocketed, and it was then that
he found the key to Summer's plan. Testing this, he deepened the embrace by
pressing his lower body into the curve of Tiny Rick's bottom, and Tiny Rick's
response was to unlock and thwack his knees on the sink cabinet, then swivel
and shove Morty away with a tiny, pointed elbow. Tiny Rick slipped out of
Morty's embrace and circled him like a lion, or maybe a cat with the way his
shoulders hitched. And to Morty's amusement, Tiny Rick dragged the back of his
hand over his moistened upper lip. Morty recognized the way Tiny Rick shoved
his hands in his pockets, forcing the tight fabric away from his body. He
recognized this act not from Rick, but from himself. As much as Rick liked to
boast his obliviousness, Morty was at least knowledgeable about this posturing:
the posturing of a teenage boy who is very, very uncomfortable.
“Okay, let's make a deal,” Morty said, excitedly bouncing on his feet at his
own cleverness while Tiny Rick grimaced at his sudden confidence. “We'll go to
the dance together. A-and if you show me a good time, maybe you can convince me
that Tiny Rick is better to have around than boring old… o-old Rick.”
Tiny Rick smirked. “A good time,” he repeated. “Morty, you just made the wrong
deal if you wanted to win. Baby, I'll show you such a good time you won't be
able to walk ortalk when I'm through with you.”
The words alone were almost enough to give Morty doubt in the plan, but the way
that Tiny Rick spoke them with his hands still shoved in his pockets, body
frozen while his face did all the expressing, were only further confirmation
that Rick was in a body he'd forgotten how to control. Assuming he ever could
as a teenager to begin with, which was such an interesting and unexpected
concept that Morty was actually getting excited about this challenge.
Morty bolted to Summer's room to tell her the good news. That he knew how to
get Tiny Rick to realize he'd much prefer being old Rick again. When Summer
asked how, Morty merely said it was complicated. But what Morty did explain was
that Tiny Rick would be so frustrated by the end of the dance that he'd refuse
to do anything else until he was back in his old body. Tiny Rick expected to
take Morty and Summer in the ship, but when Summer excitedly announced that
Toby Matthews had offered to pick her up, Morty suggested that he and Tiny Rick
walk on ahead of time so that they could have some time together. As Tiny Rick
stepped out the front door, Morty turned back to Summer, giving her an eager
thumbs up, which she returned with determination despite not knowing exactly
what Morty was planning.
A little bit down the sidewalk, Morty slipped his arm around Tiny Rick's and
marveled at how strange the fit was compared to old Rick. Tiny Rick chuckled.
“Somebody's being mushy tonight,” he said.
“Our neighbors won't recognize you if they see, and we never get to be like
this in public.”
Tiny Rick side-eyed Morty with a fond smirk. “Think of all the other things we
can do if I stay like this.” They slowed to a halt and Tiny Rick pressed his
forehead to Morty's, saying softly, “Admit it, it's nice to do this at eye
level.” He pecked a little kiss to the corner of Morty's lips, then pulled him
back into step beside him.
Morty pursed his lips, blushing lightly. “I…,” he started, “I never would have
guessed you were so short. I mean, you're pretty tall normally so...”
Keeping his gaze straight ahead, Tiny Rick replied, “So it t-took me a while.
Shut up. What's so bad about being short?”
“Well, I mean, n-nothing I hope.”
“Damn straight, dawg.”
Eying Tiny Rick from the side led Morty to linger on the exposed skin of his
neck. It was smooth and taught and distinctly youthful compared to the neck
Morty was used to kissing. To breathing against. Morty had become of fan of the
aged aesthetic during the time that his feelings for Rick were developing, and
the flutters he felt around Tiny Rick bolstered his opinion that there was just
something about Rick in general that he found attractive. He would wait for
Rick to return to his original body before telling him this, however. For now,
he was more interested in examining thisbody more closely, and so he wedged
himself closer to Tiny Rick, pressing his lips to the soft neck skin in a
rolling kiss. Tiny Rick jerked and shoved his shoulder to his ear, breaking his
arm out of Morty's hold.
“W-what's wrong?” Morty asked, dejected but curious.
Tiny Rick straightened himself out and shoved his hands in his pockets again.
“Nothing,” he said simply, but Morty noticed the blush crawling up his neck.
When they arrived at the school, the two spent some time simply enjoying each
other's company, having fun together. They danced (though not during slow
songs) and chatted with Summer and Toby. Morty's classmate Jessica even
surprised them by asking to share a dance with Morty, but as flattered as he
was, he had to decline when Tiny Rick crossed his arms and scoffed loudly.
“M-maybe another time,” Morty told her, and when she agreed and walked away,
Morty turned to his little grandpa. “What was that about, Rick? She totally
heard you.”
“Good! Maybe that'll keep her from crossing me. You can't cross Tiny Rick!”
“Is this how it's gonna be if you stay in this body? Y-you're gonna throw fits
and get mad every time someone makes you upset? You really are a child.”
“Uh, duh Morty. I'm full of youth! Don't act like you're so mature all of a
sudden.” Then Tiny Rick moved closer so that only Morty could hear him. “You'll
still be the one crying into the mattress when I fuck you. No matter what body
I'm in.”
Morty found this to be a bold statement for someone who freaked out over a hug
and kiss, and he almost said so, but what he said instead was, “Prove it.”
“Huh?”
“I said,” Morty replied, grabbing Tiny Rick's hand, “prove it.”
As Morty pulled him toward the double doors that led to the hallway, Tiny Rick
stumbled behind and tried to stammer out a response. But the only things he
could focus on were how Morty's hand was now the same size as his own, and how
people could see them holding hands if they cared to look. And in his teenage
mind, it seemed like maybe everyone was looking. Morty pulled him into the
boys' bathroom, and Tiny Rick watched in silence as he ducked to look under the
three stall doors, seeing that they were all empty before dragging him into the
third by the arm. Finally, Morty released him, and when he turned to lock the
door, Tiny Rick scrubbed his hands together nervously.
“O-oh I see what's going on here,” Tiny Rick said, trying to sound confident
despite the sweat building on the nape of his neck. “Couldn't wait a few hours
to get with this total package. We're talkin' smart, witty, attractive, and now
added to the list, young and supple.”
“Okay that's a little weird,” Morty said. “But uh, it is a shame that we
haven't done anything since you've been in this body. Right?”
As Morty stepped closer, Tiny Rick laughed and said, “Looks like I've already
won. You actually want this body, and you know it.” He hooked his fingers into
Morty's belt loop and pulled him closer, then grabbed him by the hips to keep a
gap between them.
“You've not won yet. I just thought why not have fun with it while it lasts,”
Morty replied, then slid into their kiss. When they parted, Morty slid his hand
up Tiny Rick's side, inside the coat along the material of his T-shirt, and
Tiny Rick shivered just barely. “I noticed this body, it seems more sensitive
than your other.”
“Shut up, Morty,” Tiny Rick said, blushing as he dropped his face into the
crook of Morty's neck. He kissed and nibbled, and Morty sighed into it, rubbing
his thumb on Tiny Rick's side. His other hand went to the back of Tiny Rick's
neck, scritching lightly at his thicker hair. Tiny Rick rose to nibble at
Morty's ear, and Morty mewled in response. Tiny Rick took a panting breath and
said, “Yeah, you like when I kiss you, Morty? Like w-when I make you moan? Say
my name, Morty. It's Tiny Rick.”
Morty's fingers gripped, and he whispered, “Tiny Rick.” He stepped closer,
pressing himself against Tiny Rick and breaking away with a grin soon after.
“Are you already hard?” He pressed his palm to the front of Tiny Rick's pants,
feeling the stiff bulge. Tiny Rick broke away, hitting his back against the
stall's side wall before sticking his hands in his coat pockets to hold it
closed. He was glaring, but Morty nearly laughed as he asked, “A-are you a
virgin again?”
“No shit,” Tiny Rick replied.
“I mean, I know the body is but… What I guess I'm asking is, is this how you
really were at fourteen? Like, this jumpy?”
This question was humiliating, and Tiny Rick turned his head away when he said,
“How the fuck should I know, Morty? I-it's not like I was screwing around yet.”
He didn't feel like mentioning that his sexual experience at that time mainly
amounted to jacking off a lot. No need to let Morty know how much they might
have had in common.
Morty cupped Tiny Rick's cheek in his hand, another thing made easier by their
normalized height. “It's kinda cute.”
Tiny Rick's face flared, but before he could tell Morty to shut the Hell up,
they were kissing again, hot and heavy this time. It didn't take long for Morty
to press his own now hard self against Tiny Rick, and Tiny Rick whimpered,
hands sliding from Morty's chest to his back. Morty was back to stroking his
thumbs up and down Tiny Rick's sides, beneath the coat but not beneath the
shirt. Morty's right hand moved up absently, his thumb grazing over Tiny Rick's
hard left nipple. Tiny Rick gasped, jerking back and hitting the wall again as
he moved to cross his arms over his chest.
“W-w-what's the matter?” Morty said, still dazed. “D-did I hurt you?”
Rubbing his palm over his chest, Tiny Rick replied, “No, n-no. It's fine. Don't
worry about it.” They started back in on their kiss, but Morty lifted his other
hand to Tiny Rick's right nipple and prodded it with the pad of his middle
finger. With a whine, Tiny Rick clamped his hand painfully on Morty's wrist.
“Watch it!” he spat.
“Your nipples aren't sensitive, are they?” Morty tried to remember back to the
time Rick clamped his nipples and wondered if the fact that they were in a
dream at the time made a difference. Still, he couldn't recall Rick ever doing
anything that might give the impression that his nipples were even responsive
to stimulation.
Tiny Rick blushed through his explanation, unable to maintain contact so he
blinked back and forth between Morty and the door to his left as he said, “I
used to be really sensitive there. When I was in my early thirties, I got sick
of the bullshit and worked on desensitizing them.” The fact that Morty seemed
to find this idea amusing made Rick all the more annoyed.
“Why'd you wanna desensitize them?” Morty asked.
“Cause it doesn't suit me! Are you kidding?”
Morty placed his palm over one of Tiny Rick's nipples. “It suits Tiny Rick.” He
looked in Rick's eyes, which were squinted by his embarrassed scowl. “C-can I
play with them?”
Tiny Rick huffed lightly. “Fine, but be…”
“Gentle?”
“Ugh.”
Almost studiously, Morty slid his palm to the side and placed his thumb on the
stiff nub. When he rubbed, Tiny Rick sighed a little more audibly than he meant
to, his knees pressing together, his erection throbbing secretly. Morty
giggled. “Cute,” he said, and Tiny Rick responded by placing his palm on
Morty's cheek and shoving his face away. Morty laughed heartily at that, and
soon Tiny Rick let him return to his gentle rubbing. Morty slid his hands under
Tiny Rick's shirt. Tiny Rick's nipples were more flushed than Morty expected
since Rick's nipples were pale. They felt like hot BBs under Morty's fingers,
but even a gentle prod was enough to make Tiny Rick's breath hitch and hic.
When Morty leaned in to kiss on his ear, Tiny Rick panted heavily. Neither knew
who instigated the grinding that followed shortly, but Tiny Rick slammed his
eyes shut, gripping the back of Morty's dress shirt and hating how he was
already spiraling toward orgasm.
A sudden “Thwak!” of a student throwing open the heavy restroom door ensured a
stop to Tiny Rick's edging orgasm, and seemingly both of their hearts as well.
Tiny Rick shivered and panted heavily as they listened to the heavy footfalls
of the upperclassman, and he jerked when Morty shoved a surprisingly firm hand
over his mouth and stared at him wide-eyed like he couldn't believe the lack of
secret snogging etiquette that Tiny Rick was exhibiting. Morty lifted one foot,
which would be completely ineffectual if the upperclassman were to check under
the stall. They listened to him enter the second stall, closing it and locking
it, and Rick stared past Morty as if he could watch.
The sound of neighboring urination was nearly a turn off for Morty until he
realized that Tiny Rick was bobbing his hips ever so lightly against his raised
thigh. He hadn't even intended to shove himself between Rick's legs like that,
and from the pained expression on Rick's face, it seemed he didn't exactly
intend to be humping either. Morty blushed, watching Tiny Rick's desperate
rutting and feeling the hot breaths that puffed out of his nostrils and against
the underside of Morty's hand. His shirt was still rucked up under his armpits,
exposing his too hard nipples which rose and fell faster as his humping
deepened.
The end of the stream returned Morty's attention to the intruder. He listened
to the older teen flush the toilet, leave the stall, clear his throat grossly,
and pull open the creaking restroom door before finally leaving with hands
unwashed and snogging boys unfound. Morty sighed and removed his hand from Tiny
Rick's mouth. It was the first time he saw Tiny Rick drool, his face flushed,
eyes unfocused. And when Morty lowered his leg, Tiny Rick went with it, his
knees entirely weak as his back slid down the stall wall until he was sitting
on his butt on the tiled floor, limp aside from a few bodily spasms.
“T-Tiny Rick?” Morty crouched. “Rick? Did you already… I mean, did you just...”
Tiny Rick lifted his knees, crossing his arms over them and burying his face
there. He nodded weakly. Morty went to put a hand on his shoulder, but Tiny
Rick bucked him off. Morty wasn't too keen on sitting on the restroom floor, so
he moved to crouch beside Tiny Rick, and he stroked his fingers very lightly up
and down Tiny Rick's lower back as he recuperated. It seemed it would be a bit
before he was able to walk ortalk.
Tiny Rick and Morty walked home together that night, fingers weaved, Tiny Rick
yawning wide and loud and often. “Don't worry,” Morty said. “I really don't
mind. Maybe tomorrow we can try again, and maybe you won't cum first. O-or at
least maybe we won't have to completely stop after you get off.”
“If you don't stop with the cocky attitude, I'm gonna really mess you up.”
“You mean like you did tonight? Oh well, I guess Tiny Rick just can't hold out
the way Rick can. It must c-come with experience, right?”
Tiny Rick jerked his hand out of Morty's, halting. “Don't think I don't know
what's going on here, Morty. Did you forget who the genius is here? Let's just
go home already. This whole night was stupid!” He marched past Morty, walking
ahead of him.
“Jeez,” Morty said, crestfallen as he followed behind.
In true teenager fashion, Tiny Rick locked himself in his bedroom, so Morty let
him be and went on to bed himself. It only took Tiny Rick twenty minutes to
mull things over, but the deciding factor more than anything was his sense of
revenge. His desire to get Morty back for the humiliation (what Tiny Rick
considered humiliation) he put him through. Morty had been sleeping for less
than an hour when Rick threw his door open and flipped the lights on.
Morty blinked and groaned. “Come on, Rick. Not….” He sat up fast, eyes wide.
Rick closed the door and locked it. “Sur-uuuurp-prise, Morty.”
“Y-you changed back! W-w-where are your clothes?”
Rick laughed, stepping up and crawling onto Morty's bed, hovering over him.
“Summer's still out, and your parents are stuck at the therapists' till I go
and get them. How about w-we have a little fun first?” He cupped Morty's cheek,
his hand large and comforting as he rubbed his thumb under Morty's eye. Morty
laughed and moved forward to bury his face in Rick's neck. Soft. The skin a
little loose. He really did appreciate that aged aesthetic. “I'm gonna make you
cum so hard.”
“You mean,” Morty started, grinning into Rick's neck, “l-like I made you cum
earlier?”
Rick pinched Morty's nipple, and Morty yelped.
“Shut up, Morty,” Rick whispered, pushing Morty onto his back.
End Notes
     The super talented artist icantstopsinning drew some totally awesome
     artwork based on this fic. I'm so frikkin flattered! Please_check_it
     out!
     Update: Here's another cute fan art by_smolsanchez. Check it out!
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!