Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13153410.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez_(Rick_and_Morty), Morty_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      This_was_supposed_to_be_steamy_porn, But_then_it_turned_into_porn_with
      angst_and_a_fluffy_ending, RnM_secret_santa, Angst, Fluff, Porn_with
      Feelings, Abandonment, Mutual_Masturbation_kinda, Shower_Sex
  Collections:
      2017_Rick_and_Morty_Secret_Santa
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-26 Words: 5960
****** Thaw ******
by Punk_R1ck
Summary
     Rick L-043 abandons his Morty on the Citadel, days before a heavy
     synthetic snowstorm hits. Thankfully he's found by another Rick, who
     discovers why this Morty was abandoned so coldly. Things
     get....steamy and then fluffy.
     I'm really bad at summaries.
Notes
     The prompt was a steamy RickMorty fic, and so I decided to take
     'steamy' literally and then from there it evolved into this
     monstrosity. This is for Havokwreaker on Tumblr for the RnM Secret
     Santa!!! You're one of my favorite fic writers and I hope you like
     it!! <3
Crunch…...crunch…..crunch…. Every footstep crunched beneath Morty’s shoes as he
trudged through shin deep snow illuminated only by the dim orange streetlights
that lined Mortytown.
He’d long since stopped shivering, and deep down somewhere in the back of his
mind, he knew that was a bad sign. But it felt like a blanket of snow had
settled on his brain, dulling his senses and slowing his thoughts.
His arms remained wrapped tightly around himself however, still trying to
conserve what little body heat remained trapped inside of his small body. His
eyes lazily tracked the path in front of himself while his sluggish mind began
to wander to warmer and happier things. Home. Warm, familiar home. Full home.
Full of family. Mom, dad, Summer…. Memories of sitting around a dinner table
with family, listening to the usual chatter and bickering.… His thoughts
continued to wander until it fell upon something else warm….but also painful.
Rick.
Fresh tears welled up and fell down his cheeks, feeling hot on his frigid face.
 
His Rick.
 
Morty raised a hand to swipe the tears off his face before they froze and gave
a quiet sniffle. No use crying about it now. Or at least, that’s what he tried
to tell himself, but the tears continued to fall at a steady pace now. His
vision blurred and the path in front of him had become impossible to navigate.
He was forced to stop in his tracks and rub his face repeatedly with the back
of his wrist, his other arm still wrapped tightly around himself. Though it was
his Rick’s fault that he was here now, wandering alone down the frozen snowy
streets of Mortytown without even a hoodie, he didn’t care. He’d give anything
to be at his Rick’s side again. But it was through his own actions...or
inaction.. that his Rick was gone. Gone and never coming back. No one was
coming to help. No one would answer his cries if he tried to call for help.
He lifted his head and looked around. The doors around him were all locked up
tight and he was positive that knocking on any of them would be pointless. On
this particular side of the Citadel, no one had anything to spare.
He took a few moments to compose himself and continue his slow progress
forward…. ...crunch….crunch….crunch…. Each step was becoming more and more
laborious and he could feel the toes of his shoes dragging against the buried
concrete. Then, without warning, his right toe caught on a buckled section of
sidewalk and he tumbled forward and fell face first into the snow. His fall was
a soft one, having been cushioned by the freshly fallen flurry. But still he
lay there a moment, groaning quietly and rolling onto his side to start the
process of getting back up. Though...maybe being down here wasn’t so bad. The
snow was soft and he was so tired. His limbs felt heavy and he was finding it
increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open. He felt strangely warm.
Maybe...maybe he’d just rest here a minute? Yeah. That sounded nice. A little
rest and then he could continue looking for a place to stay. That was a good
plan. He let his eyes fall closed, listening to the nearly silent sound of snow
continuing to fall from the synthetic night sky of the Citadel.
In the dark void of unconsciousness, he felt a curious sensation. One of being
lifted. Up he went, like gravity had ceased to exist and no longer held him
down against the cold ground. Warmth and comfort enveloped his small body like
a protective cocoon. He could feel himself relaxing into it and letting it
carry him off, away from the cold, hard darkness. Maybe he’d finally died? Was
this what death felt like? He didn’t know, and he didn’t necessarily care. He
was content in this warmth, with no real want or need to free himself of it. At
least until the warmth surrounding him started to become warmer…and
warmer...and warmer? He tried to move his limbs, but they seemed unwilling to
respond. The heat around him had quickly turned uncomfortable, and he battled
to free himself from it to no avail. He paused in his struggling for a moment
to gather his strength and then with all his might, willed himself to move. His
eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright, gasping and gulping air down into his
lungs, as if he’d suddenly been resuscitated. The suffocating warmth seemed to
diminish slightly and he paused his flailing to take in his surroundings.
That ‘cocoon of warmth’ seemed to be a thick pile of blankets lain over him and
the well worn couch he lay upon, his squirming and shifting seemed to have
pushed most of them aside, a few of them now lying crumpled on the floor. As he
slowly took in his surroundings, he noticed he was in a small room. But it
didn’t seem like a bedroom really. More like a front room, since he could see a
coffee table next to the couch with stacks of beer cans atop it as well as an
ashtray, leftover fast food wrappers and a few other electronic looking odds
and ends. Beyond that to his left, facing the couch was a small entertainment
center with an interdimensional cable box and a small wall mounted television.
The personal effects were eerily familiar. To his right was a short hallway
with two doors on either side of it and one small door at the very end, most
likely a hall closet or something. In front of him was what looked like a front
door, with a mat in front of it and a few pairs of shoes set neatly beside it.
“You’re a lucky little shit.”
 
The hairs on the back of Morty’s neck stood on end as that uncannily familiar
voice rasped behind him. He whipped around, frightened brown eyes meeting
familiar piercing blue.
“Any longer *hurph*-out there and you’d have frozen solid to the ground. Good
job for passing out in the middle of the sidewalk. Pretty good tactic for
someone to actually be able to find you before you became a Morty popsicle.”
Rick continued, holding a mug of something… Something warm. Morty temporarily
found himself zoning out on the thin tendrils of steam rising up from the mug,
furling up around itself and dissipating. “You...you’re not my Rick.” His voice
came out barely above a whisper, as his eyes refocused on Rick’s face. Rick
brought the mug up to his lips, not seeming to mind the temperature of the
beverage inside.
“No kidding.” Was his response, simple and to the point.
Rick started to interrogate him. He asked what he was doing there. How he’d
gotten there. Morty hastily came up with a vague story about having ‘lost’ his
Rick and now had nowhere to go. He’d actually surprised himself with how easily
the lie had slipped from his tongue.
Rick has his suspicion that there had most likely been a falling out between
them. He MIGHT be one of those Mortys, the ones who were too smart, or too full
of attitude. But who could really say?
What he did know was that the kid seemed like he needed comfort. Needed
someone.
At first Rick was hesitant to oblige. His aim was to simply get the boy back on
his feet and get him strong enough to move on to somewhere less dangerous.
Maybe he’d even take him to such a safe place tomorrow.
Fuck, he reminded him so much of his own previous Morty. Somehow his mannerisms
were so similar. More than any Morty he’d met since...
He heard himself offer up his home as temporary shelter before he could stop
himself or change his mind.
“Wh..really??” Morty stared up at Rick with that wide, awed expression and Rick
felt his heart clench tightly. He took that moment to have a seat in a nearby
armchair.
“Yeah… Really.” He grunted. “Now drink your cocoa before it gets cold.”
Morty blinked and stared down at the mug in his hands, seeming to remember that
he’d been clutching it the entire time. “Oh..R-right.” He brought the mug up to
his lips, feeling the steam ghost over his face as he took a sip of the warm,
rich liquid.
“So uh….f-fair is fair. What were y-you doing out on that street that late?”
Morty’s tone was cautious. He knew most Rick’s didn’t take kindly to being
questioned.
“Tripping over your frozen ass. Clearly.” Rick responded smoothly and Morty
gave a sheepish smile. He really should have expected that.
“While you’re here, we need to work on figuring out your dimension number so we
can at least get you home at some point.” Rick expertly guided the conversation
back onto Morty.
“I uh… I don’t remember the exact numbers, but I know my dimension started with
an L.” Morty shook his head, really trying to call forward any memories of the
times other Ricks referred to his Rick by his dimension number.
“I can work off that. Just give me some time.” Rick finished off his coffee and
stood up. He held out his hand to take the empty mug from Morty’s hands and
Morty blinked at him for a second before passing off his mug.
It took a few days to find Morty’s dimension number. First he had to find and
bribe a Rick with access to the travel logs of the citadel, which was funnily
enough the easy part, and then it was a matter of flipping through days and day
worth of logs. The logs contained all of the dimension numbers of every Rick
and Morty duo who had traveled to and from the Citadel. As luck would have it,
there were a lot of Ricks and Mortys from the L section of the finite curve
that had conveniently decided to travel back and forth over those few days.
“Hey. So you can’t recall anything about your dimension number?” Rick asked one
morning over breakfast. Morty hesitated, putting his spoon back into his bowl
of Cinnamon Bread Crunchies. “Um…. I don’t...nngh…” He gave a little grunt as
he tried to concentrate and remember anything he could. He rubbed his temples,
hemming and hawing as he struggled to recall.
“I-I know it was a weird number. I-It started with, with a zero or something.
L-0 something…”
Rick nodded. “I’ll see what I can dig up with that.”
It was the only dimension that started with an L-0-. Dimension number L-043. A
Rick and his Morty had traveled to the Citadel from their home dimension about
three days ago. Then the log showed L-043 Rick traveling back to his home
dimension about four hours after their arrival. Now armed with the correct
dimension number, he left the Council building and instead headed for the
nearest quiet cafe. Pulling up a chair, he relaxed down into it and pulled out
his communicator, punching the correct dimension number and a string of other
digits into it before pressing the green button and watching the little machine
make the connection and buzz the other end of the line until someone picked up.
“Hello? Who the fuck is this?? Better be fucking good since you just scared off
one of the most elusive species in that galaxy that I’m trying to fucking
catch!!” A Rick’s voice snapped at him
Rick quickly found he had no sympathy for the irate ass on the other end of the
line
“Tsk, well ain’t that a bitch. Alright, uh look. I don’t really need to bother
telling you my name, so I’ll get right to the point. I think I found something
that belongs to you and I was calling to see if and when you wanted it back.”
He responded flatly.
“Something of mine?” Rick L-043 repeated, sounding confused.
“Yeah, dipshit. Your Morty. You must not have been paying attention to the
Citadel weather, since they announced they’d be testing the limits of the
artificial weather generator with near whiteout conditions for the next week
and a half…” Rick was really having to work to keep himself from ripping this
guy a new asshole.
“Morty?? Fuck!! Did you actually fucking save that little shit?? Damn it! Leave
it to a soft-hearted fuck like you to ruin what would have been an easy thing.”
The Rick on the other end of the line seemed to have lost his temper again as
he yelled into the communicator.
“I left that sick little fuck in Mortytown hoping he’d keel over in the snow or
something.
“You could have taken him to the reassignment center. That’s a thing that
exists…” Rick started to suggest, but the other Rick wasn’t having it.
“Have you SEEN the size of the goddamn packet they make you fill out and all
the shit they make you do?? Fuck that, man! I don’t have time for that, nor do
I care what happens to him. He’s not my Morty. Not anymore. He’s a sick little
fuck. Give him to the guys over at Pocket Mortys or something. I wouldn’t touch
that nasty little turd with a fifty foot pole, but if that shit floats your
boat, you can have it. I don’t want him. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a
Vorglox storm glider to catch.” The line cut out and Rick glared down at his
communicator. He couldn’t understand half the shit that Rick had spewed. Why
the hell was he so disgusted with his Morty? There seemed to be nothing wrong
with the kid, but if there was one thing he knew for sure about this…
There was no way he could tell the kid what his Rick had said. It would shatter
him.
He had a choice. He could pawn off this kid on someone else. It wasn’t really
his problem to deal with if he didn’t want to. He could easily, and with a
mostly clear conscious, do what Rick said and pass him off to Pocket Mortys.
That was a hard life for a Morty, but it was a life that promised food and care
even if it was the bare minimum.
Or there was option two…
“Hey Rick. Welcome home. A-any luck on finding my dimension and my Rick..?”
Morty looked up from his spot on the couch when Rick let himself into his
house. Rick closed the door behind him and sucked in a deep breath, rampant
thoughts whirling through his head.
“No. Nothing yet kiddo. Sorry.” He finally answered and shook his head, making
his way to the kitchen to find his half eaten box of stale wafers, washing them
down with a pull from his bottle of Jack he left in his freezer. He carried box
and bottle out to the front room with him and flopped down onto the other side
of the couch from Morty, not quite making eye contact with the kid.
Morty, assuming Rick’s stand-offish mood was because his leads were running
cold, leaned over and touched his shoulder in a shy, but reassuring gesture.
“W-well… something’ll come up soon.”
Rick’s heart squeezed painfully and he lifted his bottle to his lips to try and
wash away the guilt pooling in his gut. Fuck that Rick. Fuck him so hard. He
never deserved a Morty like this anyway…
“Hey Morty. So, I need to ask this, just in case,” Rick started, lazily wiping
his lip with the back of his hand. “What-urrrph- what would you do if I
couldn’t find your Rick?” He asked, hoping his tone sounded casual and not like
he knew something.
Morty tilted his head and thoughtfully gazed up at the ceiling for a few long
seconds.
“I never r-really thought about it. But.. I guess I’d just have to find myself
a new Rick..? I don’t...I don’t know.” He shrugged and looked back over at
Rick, who dared to glance over and meet eyes with Morty. “What if-..” He
started, feeling his throat seize slightly. He never intended to take on
another Morty. Not after what had happened to his last one. But this Morty
needed him, and that's all the incentive he needed. “What if I had to become
your new Rick? You know, if we couldn’t find your other one.” He suggested
carefully, piercing eyes studying Morty’s facial expression closely to gauge
his reaction. Morty’s brows raised and he stared back at Rick.
“You-y-you would do that? I mean..if you have room for me, I’d like that.”
Morty gave a genuine smile.
Rick gave a curt nod and turned away from Morty towards the television.
“A’ight.”
Morty’s inquiries about his home dimension started to lessen from almost every
day, to maybe once a week, and then faded to him seeming to forget it entirely.
Outside of that, Morty adjusted easily to his new home life. Rick found him
surprising useful out on missions. Morty seemed to know when he was needed
almost before Rick asked and was quick to obey anything Rick demanded of him
without question. With an uncomfortable sinking in his gut, Rick wondered if it
was because Morty feared being abandoned again. It was a valid fear after what
happened to the poor boy with his last Rick.
“Morty!! This thing is gonna go nuclear in 5 seconds if I don’t disarm it!! I
need you to grab me the plasma driver off the shelf in my-” Rick had started to
snap as he worked furiously to disable a defense mechanism on the piece of
alien technology he’d been trying to disassemble, but was cut off when he
turned his head and found himself face to face with the tool he’d asked for
before he’d told Morty where exactly to find it.
“Got it! Rick!! It’s glowing red! Ohhh jeez jeez!!” Morty shoved the driver
into Rick’s hand, looking white as a sheet and panicked as Rick snatched the
tool and quickly unscrewed the piece that connected wire to detonator. Almost
immediately the object’s red glow faded and it seemed to have become safe to
handle once more. Rick’s shoulders slumped and let his head loll back with a
loud groaning sigh.
“Fuck, that was close… Did you, you see that Morty? That’s the reason I wanted
this stupid hunk of junk anyway. A defense mechanism so sensitive to outside
tampering is a pain in the ass to make. I could do it myself, but you know- I’m
workin’ smarter not harder here. Shit’s always easier when I don’t- when
someone else does the legwork for you!” Rick grinned and snatched up the
object, shaking it in Morty’s face.
“Uhh...y-yeah. Sure thing, Rick.” Morty didn’t look convinced, pretty sure that
it would have taken less time for Rick to make the damn thing himself than it
took them to obtain it from those hostile aliens. But there was no way he’d
dare say that. He’d already lost his first Rick for reasons he couldn’t figure
out, he didn’t want it to happen again.
He bit his lip and turned away, wanting to hide the emotions welling up inside
of him as painful memories of his abandonment resurfaced. He could see it in
his mind’s eye, the dark, cold, disgusted expression his Rick gave him as he
watched Rick deliberately slow down and veer off the sidewalk they’d strolled
down, letting Morty continue to walk ahead, now unaccompanied and alone.
Right at that moment, when Rick turned away, Morty just so happened to catch
the reflection of his Rick in the glass of a storefront, and he wondered if
Rick knew that he could see him. But he didn’t stop to turn back for Rick
either, which made them both at fault in a way. He could have turned back. But
he knew nothing he did could stop Rick. He loved his Rick. Loved him more than
a Morty usually would or should and part of him worried that Rick had
discovered the depths in which Morty loved him. He would have killed himself
for his Rick if he’d needed to. He’d even stolen Rick’s lab coat out of the
laundry hamper on several different occasions to snuggle with it on nights when
he couldn’t sleep. They say if you love someone, let them go. He would always
hold out the hope that maybe Rick would return.
But it was blindingly obvious Rick didn’t feel anywhere close to the same, and
he was never coming back.
Whatever bond they’d developed from the year they’d spent together was now
suddenly gone and his Rick no longer wanted anything to do with him. The weeks
leading up to Rick’s abandoning, he had noticed a serious shift in Rick’s
attitude towards him. No longer did he burst into Morty’s room drunkenly
demanding adventures. No more did he order Morty to grab him things he himself
was too lazy to grab. In fact, he’d started avoiding talking to him period. At
least until that day…
“Hey Morty. Let’s go on an adventure. I have to go to the Citadel for..
Just..grab your stuff.”
Morty didn’t even think to question it. At least until he watched his own Rick
abandon him.
The water from the shower head rained down on Morty’s skin, as hot as he could
physically stand it. It stung and felt good all at once, drowning out that
hunger for skin on skin contact he’d been feeling since his feelings for his
original Rick had developed. He had hoped that the things he felt would go away
with all that had happened, but to his dismay they had only grown stronger.
This Rick was kind in all the ways his Rick was not.
While he was still a Rick and still had one hell of a temper on him, it was
different. Where his previous Rick would snap, chew him out and then shut down,
this Rick would snap, cuss, and then either force himself to chill, or find
something else to take it out on.
Where his original Rick would disregard him and leave him to get his own ass
out of trouble, this Rick always seemed to keep a sharp eye on him, always
seemed to be there in the nick of time with an arm around his waist to yank him
out of harm’s way.
The contrast was shocking, and it did nothing to solve the problem at hand… Or,
the problem currently stiffening between his legs. He gave a little whine and
reached down to crank the temperature up just a little more, feeling the sting
of the water against his back as he leaned forward against the cool, wet tile
and took himself in hand. He closed his eyes and dug around in his memories,
pulling forth the adventure his new Rick had taken him on only a few days ago.
They had infiltrated an alien warship, hoping to locate the coordinates for
some...thing Rick had been babbling about the entire trip there. Some… super
rare crystalline material that could be used to hyperfocus beams of light. But
only a few minutes after they’d snuck aboard, Morty had accidentally tripped an
alarm, sending the entire ship into lockdown.
“Shit..! Damn it Morty..! What the hell did you do??” Rick hissed, grabbing
Morty by the wrist and darting down the nearest corridor.
“I-I’m sorry, Rick!! I-I-I didn’t know there was a-a wire thing by the
cargo..!” Morty squeaked, stumbling after Rick, struggling to keep up with
Rick’s longer stride.
“It’s called a trip wire, you little idiot. Down this way.!” He growled back
and veered off from the corridor into a small storage room. It was only about 4
feet wide and deep, with only enough room left for two people to squeeze into
between the storage boxes already stacked in there. Rick pulled Morty around
and shoved him into the small space first before cramming himself in after. He
pressed himself tightly against Morty, trying to take up as little space as
possible while shielding Morty with his own body in case they were found.
Despite the panic and adrenaline racing through Morty’s body, he shamefully
found his body reacting to the pressure, hands traveling up to grasp the front
of Rick’s shirt and hold on tightly as he pressed just a little closer and
buried his face into Rick’s narrow, but solid chest. He could hear that strong
thrumming heartbeat as it pounded against his ear, wondering if Rick’s heart
would ever pound like that for him. He figured Rick would probably assume he
was clinging to him out of fear, since he didn’t mention his odd behavior once
after they’d completed the mission.
With the memory of being sandwiched tightly between Rick and a wall pulled to
the forefront of his mind, Morty started a tantalizingly slow rhythm, now
imagining Rick was there, in the shower and pressing him against the cold
tiles, long nimble fingers wrapped around his length and teasing him with this
slow pace, wanting to hear him whine and beg.
“...ah..! O-ohh Rick...please…” Morty breathed, his eyes squeezed shut as he
tightened his grip, picturing Rick giving him a little squeeze, wanting to
encourage his begging.
“Mmh, Riiiick…” Morty gave a bit of a louder moan, his voice echoing slightly
against the bathroom walls as his rhythm grew faster, his imaginary Rick
rewarding him for being such a good boy.
The problem with showers was that it was impossible to tell how loud you were
being until it was usually too late…
His moans and coos reverberated nicely along the tiles and echoed right down
the hall to where Rick sat, crosslegged on the couch, a device in his lap that
he was in the process of pulling apart to see what made it tick. Seriously, it
was ticking and bothering the shit out of him and he wanted to make it stop.
The ticking was completely unnecessary anyway. With most of his focus directed
towards that obnoxious ticking, he almost missed the faint sound of Morty’s
voice coming from the bathroom. It had almost sounded like a pained whine and
he immediately set aside the device and stood up off the couch to stand in
front of the bathroom door, leaning against the door jamb to listen.
“Rick…ffh...fuck, Rick...please…!” Morty’s voice pleaded from the other side of
the bathroom door and Rick’s brow shot up in surprise.
Everything clicked into place and he finally understood.
He’d only ever heard rumors of Mortys falling for and lusting for their Ricks,
but he never thought he’d really ever witness it himself.
So that was why Rick L-043 had abandoned him, left him out in the cold to die.
He found himself wondering what Morty even saw in that guy. All Ricks were
assholes in their own right and he would be the first to admit that, but that
guy was a downright piece of scum. Honestly, was it really that big of a deal…?
So what if the kid wanted a piece of his grandpa? Half the galaxy did too.
He stood just outside the bathroom for a good minute, weighing his options
before he grasped the door knob and silently let himself in, closing the door
behind himself. He could hear everything now. Morty’s hisses and whimpers, the
soft wet sound of Morty’s strokes. Man, it was music. As silently as possible
he started to shed his clothing, taking care not to let his belt buckle fall to
the floor.
It was difficult to slip around the plastic shower curtain quietly, but he
managed just fine. Morty was still blissfully oblivious to the world around
him, completely absorbed in his own fantasies when the pressure of another
against his back suddenly wasn’t just a part of his fantasy.
“Both hands on the wall.” Rick’s voice growled in Morty’s left ear, his mouth
brushing the wet shell of Morty’s ear.
“R-Rick?!” Morty had seized up and started to panic, but long, nimble fingers
snatched Morty’s wrist and yanked his hand away, bringing it up to the tile
wall with the other and pinning them there.
“Shhh… Relax. You wanna-you’re gonna be a good boy for your grandpa Rick,
aren’tcha..?” Rick crooned against Morty’s ear before dipping his head to
gently suck the moisture from the crook of Morty’s shoulder. Morty bit down
hard on his lip, giving a muffled little noise between a grunt and a whimper.
“Atta boy.” Rick muttered before dragging his tongue from Morty’s shoulder up
his neck, to that soft little spot just behind his ear lobe, drawing a sharp
inhale from the boy.
“Mnnh…!” Morty couldn’t stifle the sharp moan that forced its way from his
throat when he realized Rick’s free hand had been creeping over his hip and
downwards, his fingers slowly encircling the base of that painfully rigid
boyhood and giving it a firm little squeeze.
Morty’s hips instinctually bucked into Rick’s hand, his jaw finally falling
slack as he started to pant lightly. Rick smirked against the boy’s neck,
starting a rhythm in time with the rhythm Morty’s body had begun naturally,
steady and firm.
Feeling the boy fuck into his hand, his shaft slipping nicely against his palm
as he squeezed here and there, causing Morty’s rhythm to stutter and his breath
to hitch every time.
“I’m gonna let go of your hands. If they move away from the wall even a little,
I’m stopping. Capiche?” Rick ordered and Morty only gave a meek little nod.
With that, Rick’s hand loosened around Morty’s wrists and migrated to his
waist, slipping up his chest, nimble fingers seeking out Morty’s right nipple,
giving it a little tweak. The boy’s spine arched beautifully and though his
fingers twitched, his palms remained firmly planted to the wall.
“F-fuck...Riiick…” Morty breathed, letting his head loll forward, moisture from
the shower starting to collect at his parted lips and the tip of his nose, his
half lidded gaze watching the droplets fall to the bottom of the shower as his
focus remained on the searing hot pleasure pooling in his gut and what felt
like Rick’s own hard on digging against his right ass cheek every time he drew
back.
Though Rick’s body (and dick) had reacted positively to the wet friction
between their bodies, he kept his focus on Morty, wanting to make up for all
the shit his previous Rick had put him through. He picked up his pace, his
thumb rubbing over that sensitive tip and smearing the beads of precum that
collected there.
“Nnn….such a good boy, Morty…” Rick uttered, his free roaming hand now slipping
up past Morty’s collarbone to take his jaw between his thumb and forefinger and
guide his head upwards, his own dipping down to catch Morty’s wet lips in his
own. Morty whined against his mouth, but was quick to press back into the kiss,
weakly trying to reciprocate as Rick’s mouth quickly dominated his own with
teeth and tongue.
Morty’s nerves felt like they were fried, his sluggish mind hazy with pleasure…
He could feel that heat pooling low in his gut, feel his orgasm starting to
creep up on him. Starting to chase it down and follow that sweet spot of
pressure and friction, he bucked firmly into Rick’s hand, moaning noisily
against his mouth and feeling Rick devour his sounds. But without warning, it
all suddenly felt too much to handle. He broke the kiss off and despite Rick’s
order to keep his hands on the wall, one hand snakes down to grab Rick’s
forearm just as he topples over the edge with a loud cry that echoed against
the tiled walls of the bathroom.
Rick felt Morty grab his arm as he felt the boy’s smaller body tensing against
his own, feeling his cock twitch in his hand as he stroked and squeezed, cum
oozing over his knuckles until the boy was spent.
“Mmmh… That’s the ticket…” Rick encouraged breathily, feeling Morty come undone
against him. He released Morty’s exhausted boyhood and slipped his still slick
hand up Morty’s abdomen, now just embracing him underneath the spray of the
shower. His own erection still rested solidly against Morty’s backside, but
that was something he’d take care of later. Right now his focus was Morty…
“Well, now that we’re getting everything out on the table…” Rick started after
a good minute of silence, the temperature of the water starting to grow colder.
Morty gave a funny little twitch as Rick’s words broke through the thick clouds
of his afterglow. He blinked and angled his head to stare up at Rick, a little
worry crease showing right between his brows. Rick stared right back down at
him, his expression neutral.
“I know what happened between you and your Rick, and before you freak out, no
I’m not angry that you lied.”
Morty swallowed thickly and gave a little nod.
“Does it….y-ya know, bother you?” He inquired quietly.
“Kid, if it bothered me, you really, honestly think I’d still be standing here
right now? No. I wouldn’t be.” Rick answered simply. “But I’m gonna be real
with you for a sec, so listen up.” His brow dipped in the middle slightly. “I
want you to be my Morty. Your Rick is-he’s a piece of shit, Morty. He doesn’t
deserve you. You-you’re a good kid.” He finished lamely.
Morty can do nothing but stare as he processes what Rick was saying, what he
was offering. They’d been living as a Rick and Morty pair for a few weeks now,
but there was always this hesitation, this invisible wall between them because
he didn’t know if he was ever going to see his old life again. He breaks eye
contact and looks down, thinking back to his old life.
His family.
His old Rick had probably already wiped every trace of his existence from their
memories and though he’d miss them, they wouldn’t.
“Rick. I… I want that too. I want to stay here, I-I wanna stay with you and be
your Morty.” He looked back up at Rick and turned to reach up and wrap both
arms around Rick’s neck, pulling him down and hugging him tight enough to make
Rick grunt.
“Y-yeah..? Well….good.” Rick sheepishly returned the hug, nuzzling down into
Morty’s wet curls. He could feel goosebumps along the boy’s skin and with a
blink he realized the shower was no longer hot and steamy and was now coming
out almost icy.
“Alright, alright. Let go of me, brat. Let’s go dry off, get changed, and you
can help me with that device I nicked from Florbo. Then maybe you can return
the favor I did for ya.” He added as he let go of Morty, reaching over to turn
the frigid shower off and pluck a couple towels off the towel rack, tossing one
to Morty as he stepped out of the shower.
Morty blushed dark and hid it behind the towel.
“Y-yeah...sounds good, Grandpa Rick…” He nodded and then with his mouth muffled
by the towel he added a soft, “love you…”
“What was that?”
“Nothing!!”
“Uh huh. Whatever.” Rick knelt to pick up his clothes off the bathroom floor,
holding his towel around his waist with his other hand.
“Love you too, brat.” He muttered, before leaving the bathroom.
Morty’s face flushed darker if possible and he buried his face into his towel
to muffle an embarrassed but overjoyed scream.
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