Are you Drunk yet? (Rickorty slop)
This is a draft lmao
"Moooorrty."
"Rick, I'm busy-- I'm twelve assignments behind! I'm practically f-fffailing, failing all my classes! I'm pathetic, I'm not going to have a future-- I'm-I'm-I'm going to be stuck with a nothing job once you grow sick of me! and, and I don't want to be--"
Rick blows raspberries while Morty's words continue on, spouting about the same problem; repeating the same points over and over. His words aren't processed fully in Rick's head, he sees no point in listening if there's nothing he wants to change. For everything to eat something must be eaten, every rose has its thorn, every silver lining has a cloud.
"Oh Morty, MortyMorty Mor-- URP -- ty,,,, Mor-Tee, Tea,,Dee...and,
More-Di and Rick, a-a--a thousand years!"
Morty grimaces at Rick's amusement from the wordplay. "Never change your name Morty, you're-you're a.."
He begins to sway, tumbling from the doorway and forces his weight upon the shelf as he leans on it.
‘I wish he wouldn't make a habit of messing up my room.’
"Rick," Morty breathes in the smell of liquor, "Let's get you back to the garage, alright?"
-------
Morty blows raspberries as he sits on the counter perpendicular to Rick's main workspace.
Rick's a tall drink of water; that, plus the metal that blurs his humanity, makes him heavy. Dragging him by the wrist—while he sways into every other piece of furniture—left Morty with a racing heart. If only he had time to play a sport or go to the gym, he wouldn't be so winded right now.
“Okay, Rick, I'll, uh, leave you to yourself. I have things I need to finish.”
“Wow, wo—w, Morty, you dragged me all the way here because you didn't want to be around Grandpa? Is that right, Morty? You hate Grandpa?” He leans forward in his chair, places his hands on his knees, and forces his face near Morty's, making the young boy lean back and turn away.
“Rick, I was busy! You can't expect me to be around you all the time.”
“You only care about Grandpa when he helps, isn't—HIC—that right, Morty?” He kicks off the counter and leans back in his chair.
Oh my fucking god. Morty looks at him with frustration.
“Yyyyou want dinner? Lunch? I learned to make chicken alfredo.” Morty shifts his center of gravity backward as he leans on his hands and looks at the ceiling. I wonder what other dishes Jessica likes..
His attempt at humoring Rick is met with an eyeroll.
“What? What, you think Grandpa needs his grandson to baby him? You think I'm disgusting, don't you, Morty?”
“Jesus Christ.”
Morty slides off the counter, hits it thrice, and a beer fridge emerges where he applied the force. Upon opening it, cans fall out rapidly.
“Here” he picks on up and hands it to rick
Rick scoffs at him and chugs the beer from Morty's hand before Morty returns to sit on the counter. Rick takes another, and another, and another. The floor is covered in crushed cans. It smells strongly of yeast and alcohol. The world is in the palms of a drunkard.
"Mortyy." Rick rolls his chair over to Morty and lays his head on his lap.
"Morty, you love Grandpa, right? Want to give Grandpa a kiss? A little smooch from my little poo-pa would make Grandpa sooo happy."
Rick’s smart. He smiles to himself as he watches Morty's face contort. Rick’s an asshole; he's just doing what assholes do, but Morty's skin isn't as thick as he wished. How many nights did he spend wishing he'd only dream about Jessica, only to have his mind fixate on the rugged man?
Maybe it would be nice to feel rick, make love,, morty’s heart leaps and functions only to keep morty alive for rick anyways,, its be nice to feel rick’s hands all over him, have his fingers inside of him to do more than force contraband up his ass, maybe instead it could be rick inside of him, and they’ll kiss, and rick could be rough with him and bend him in two while tears swell in his eyes and sob moans of pain and pleasure
Morty shoves Rick’s head off of him and offers him another beer.
Maybe just once he’ll indulge in his fantasies.
As long as nothing changes—as long as Rick doesn't remember—it won't count. It's just to make his desire stop festering. If he has the real thing, then he’ll realize it's not that good.
They've both lost count of how many beers Rick has drunk as the nth one falls to the floor.
Rick squawks something before standing up and stumbling towards the door.
“What?”
“-ɯooɹɥʇɐq.”
Morty stares at him, still unsure what hes saying.
“The fucking bath—URP—rmm...”
‘Oh.’
The younger one grabs Rick’s side as he guides him to the bathroom. There's not much Morty can do; it was hard enough making him walk across the dining room when he was drunk, but now that he's wasted, he's flailing around and seeing double—he's a safety hazard to the house.
"Rick, you done in there??"
An incomprehensible response is bellowed before Rick emerges out the bathroom.
There's more piss outside of the toilet than in it. Or at least that's what Morty thinks it's safe to assume. It's all clear, looking no different from water.
He'll make fun of Rick later for this.
Rick's fly is down. He doesn't bother to clasp his belt together either. Morty doesn't realize how fixated his eyes were on it until Rick tries to stumble past him. He pushes Rick back into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.
‘It's just a hug.’
His ribcage is squeezed to Rick's abdomen and his head is planted in his chest. His heart flutters as he feels Rick envelop him back.
"Awww-HIC-ww m-mymhymy sweet lil grndsn"
Morty wished time could stop right now, to feel his grandfather's warm body for eternity. The hug is awkward, it's slightly uncomfortable with how bony and solid Rick's body is, but it's Rick. It's the man who's in all of Morty's memories, the one who taught him how to use a bong, how to bring an avian race to its knees though inserting a new insect into the ecosystem that completely destroyed their crops; forcing them to move their economy to revolve around vodka, and how to avoid traveling on water. Rick is the reason that Morty is the Morty-est Morty. Rick is an inventor, he's smart and charismatic and easily gets along with everybody-- it's an honor to simply be around him. He fucks what people can't comprehend.
So it's not Morty's fault when he props himself up on the sink and kisses his grandfather's forehead, cheeks, ears, neck,,,
‘Is it really happening if he doesn't remember this?’
‘It's just a kiss. Its nothing. Its for us to go back to being normal, back to a time where we where just family. If i do this then i can get over these feelings and then i can finally have a white picket fence and admire it with Jessica. Its fine. Theres no need to be nervous cause theres nothing at stake,’
He sinks his lips onto his grandfather's chapped ones. As Morty places both hands on Rick's, he forces their faces to collide again and again as Morty gives sloppy kisses.
The towering figure laughs, “wicked boy, evil boy, try-trying to seduce-- URP-- grandpa? Aww so cute”
He plants one hand on the mirror behind Morty. And cups his face with the other before finally reciprocating.
It feels so good to have Rick so close to him. To feel his heat, to taste the beer from his mouth, welcome the bitter flavor and yeasty smell and breathe the same air as Rick and to know what Rick is sharing the same sensations as him.
It's too good. Morty feels his jeans start to tighten. It doesn't help when Rick snakes his hands under the yellow cotton; pulling it up and off Morty's figure.
Morty's mind begs for more. He wishes he was on his bed and on top of Rick, they'd be making out and Morty could hold their chests to one another while running his hand through his hair and tracing stars along Rick's back all while Rick grabs fistfuls of Morty's hair and pulls on it.
Rick's hand explores Morty's body, brushing gently against his neck, chest, arms, and then finally pinching his pretty little buds.
Morty bites Rick's tongue at the new sensation. He jerks back.
"S-s-sorry-sorry I didn't mean to, it feels good I swear, please don't-- please don't stop."
Rick places a hand on his thigh and kisses his neck. His legs feel wet, upon looking down he sees the cloth melting off him.
"Oh Jeez." I liked that pair,,, mom is going to be mad when I ask her to buy another..
He's completely naked now and Rick just looks at him.
He's fucked aliens that look nothing like humans, he has porn of circles fucking on his computer, there's no way Rick is disgusted by my body.
“Look at you and your weird little dick, yeah youre-- HIC-- such a small litttle guy”
Horrified. Morty immediately moves to cover his erection.
"Don't—don't be like that, Morty. It's cute. Come on—you want Grandpa to do this right?"
It's just one time. Everybody wants to fuck Rick, Rick wants to fuck everything. He's fucked planets... Us being together means nothing in the grand scheme of things. People continue to die if this happens, children still starve if we don't, we'll still be a family if he doesn't remember.
Even if he does, he doesnt care. He never does. He can just mindblow himself
It's just one time.
He pulls Rick's belt out and places it beside himself.
"I need you, Rick."
