Rick's Greatest Fear, Morty's Greatest Shame
"I don't - I never hurt you, right? L-like no more than on our usual adventures?"
It was said with such a monotonous tone that anyone, even Morty himself could easily confuse it as just a curiosity. Not something Rick actually cared about. Studying him though, the younger could easily see how his already tense, slender build had become more frigid. His unibrow furrowed just a little bit more.
This weighed on him, and much more than he could admit. Deep down he knew he was little more than a beast just waiting for an opportunity to attack. Even if he pretended not to care, he tried desperately to keep the beast under lock and key.
Unfortunately for the both of them it would do little to work on the nights Rick got so drunk he couldn't remember why he shouldn't be creeping into his grandsons room.
The first time was unexpected, Morty slept soundly in his bed while Rick moved into the spot beside him, careful not to wake him. Yet.
By the time Morty woke up, a cold hand covered his mouth. He knew it was Ricks, he just didn't understand why. He tried to blink the sleep from his eyes, frantically scanning his room for some threat. Though as he became more conscious, the only danger he felt was Rick.
His breathing pattern had shifted to something Morty couldn't quite recognize, at least until he felt the others hard on press against his ass through the thin fabric of his boxers. His eyes widened immediately, fear and disgust taking over. Maybe he had had the occasional thought about his grandpa, but he was never going to act on it and he never could have imagined Rick would. He tried to yell, only to be muffled by the hand clamping tighter around his mouth.
"S-shhh, shush...It's okay my l-little junebug." Rick slurred out as he slid Morty's boxers down, cupping his ass cheek.
Panic rose in the boy, he tried to squirm away, to fight back, but Rick was pretty strong for a drunk old man. He did the only other thing he could think to do, elbow him directly in the face. The contact made a sick crunching noise, and as Morty seen the blood pour from his grandfather's nose he was sure that he had broken it.
"You little-! Y-you're nothing without me! I own you, I could take you out back right now and slit your throat. F-" his rant interrupted by a belch. "Fuck your corpse and replace you before breakfast tomorrow!"
The rage in his eyes somehow hurt more than the hands around his throat. Choking the life out of him until he nearly passed out again and became compliant once more.
It didn't compare to the disturbing truth, Rick was right. He could. And part of him knew even if the family discovered it...They would make some excuse for Rick. If anything, it'd somehow be his fault.
Tears welled in his eyes, crying out in choked gasps even after the hands left his throat. And then he felt Rick trying to position himself, continuing to drunkenly slip. It was especially hard considering Morty was untouched there, his ass trying to protect itself. Every time Rick failed Morty could sense him getting more angry. Like a dark cloud just waiting to storm.
And so, he did the only thing he could think to do. He helped Rick. He actually guided his grandfather's cock to rape his virginity away. This way, he had a little control. And he was able to use some of his spit and as lube, though not ideal nothing about this situation was. His eyes squinted in pain as he managed to force the head inside, whimpering out.
He was prepared to slowly back up, to attempt to take this surprisingly massive dick but he wasn't given that grace. The second Rick was inside him, all bets were off. The beast came out. He rammed himself to the hilt inside the other, biting his lip as the other spasmed around him and tried to force him out. But he just ground his hips down, using his weight and will to stay lodged deep inside him. Morty covered his own mouth this time, embarrassed by the start of a scream that came out as he was taken. Both hands covered his mouth as he hid his face in his pillow.
He wanted to beg him to stop, to tell him it hurt but he knew it wouldn't make a difference.
He was surprised by the rough hand that found its way to wrap around his member, rubbing him in a way one could only get from decades of experience. It was sloppy and not the most graceful, but he knew exactly how to touch his Morty.
"T-thats a good boy. See? We can both feel good."
Morty felt repulsed at the way his cheeks heated up. He wasn't supposed to be hoping for more praise here, but he was. His body relaxed enough Rick could start to slowly fuck him without it being unbearable. It still hurt, it was agony...But the way Rick was stroking him made it impossible for him to not start to come undone. He bucked desperately, shallowly into his grandfather's hand and in turn against his cock as he quickly approached orgasm.
"Come on, cum for g-grandpa Morty...Fuck I can't last either. D-dont he mad, I'm going to fill you up. J-just let me do it okay?"
He was conflicted, but in his haze he seen no choice but to let whatever was going to happen, happen. His orgasm hit him harder than it ever had, leaving him drooling into his pillow as his toes curled. Rick fucked him harder until he felt his own rush over him, spilling shot after shot of his seed deep into the other.
After the adrenaline left his body, Rick slumped his body over Mortys. Cradling him in a way he never had, slowly stroking his hair.
Just as Morty felt himself about to pass out again, he heard a sniffle. Was he...crying?
"R-rick?" He asked with a frown. Why was he worried about him after what he just did.
"I'm so sorry my lil junebug. I - I should never - I can't uncross that line." He started to cry harder into Morty's shoulder. Who knew he could feel so guilty while he was still balls deep inside him?
Morty knew then that he did have a line. And he'd been trying so hard not to let this happen. It was just a slip, Rick had gotten too drunk. He couldn't control himself.
A one time mistake, or so he thought. Every few months it would happen again, and every morning after Rick had no memory of why Morty would have new bruises. Morty wouldn't let him remember, he had enough on his shoulders.
And maybe part of him really did enjoy it too. To see Rick so unraveled, desperate. It was the only time he felt Rick needed him, and he would do anything to make sure those times wouldn't be taken from them.
Even if that meant lying to his grandpa so he'd never have the chance to put a stop to it.
"N-No Rick, you don't ever hurt me when you're drunk." He said with a practiced tone to not raise suspicion.
"Why would you even ask that?"
"J-just forget it and hand me another beer."