A/N - Hey my dudes, I was just informed I forgot all about the Christmas fics I promised people. Well, here is the first one for my dear Alice. Thank you so much for this Rick and Morty prompt and I hope you like this hella long fic! This was so much fun to write and I hope you and everyone else can find some enjoyment in it too. Thanks y’all and merry late Christmas!
Word Count: 1,137
Snow coated the brown, untrimmed grass, hiding all its impurities from the world. Christmas lights sat strung around the quiet house, shades of green and red flickering behind tiny snowflakes. Melodies of children’s laughter rang out through the town, icy roads crunching beneath small boots, whirls of thrown snowballs adding to the song of Christmas Day. What a wonderful day, one full of jolly good fun, bundles of presents, warm embraces, and hot chocolate. It was every kid’s dream to have Christmas every day. For one boy, Christmas had become every day, though on accident.
“Rick?” A young boy called, opening the garage door slowly, peeking into the room to spot his grandfather hunched over some sort of device, the one that had put them into this eternal Christmas.
It was June 20th when it first happened. Morty was awoken by his grandfather excitedly screaming from outside. After throwing on some clothes, Morty ran outside to see Rick fiddling with his newest invention, a small pink box with a red bow, a satellite dish extending from the center. Rick promised to give Morty the time of his life, the perfect Christmas in the middle of summer, a present for helping Rick not die after all these years. Rick just wanted Morty to be happy, despite everything he had put his grandson through.
Well, the device worked. Sort of.
Rick and Morty found themselves waking up in their home, neatly wrapped presents under the vibrantly lit tree, peppermint hot cocoa resting on the counter, freshly baked gingerbread men sitting on a plate beside the colorful mugs. The duo had one of the best days every, thoroughly enjoying themselves. It was all fun, until they woke up the next morning and Christmas had come again. Santa delivered presents again the next day, and the day after, continuing to do so.
“Rick?” Morty repeated, this time stepping out onto the step, Rick still not looking up. He continued to tinker with the present-esque device. Morty could nearly see the dark bags resting beneath Rick’s tired eyes, having worked for three Christmases now, coming out to eat just once.
Morty made his way across the room, standing next to Rick’s side, watching his hands meticulously work on fixing this peaceful prison. Morty always saw Rick as someone who would never give up, someone who would always make it out of any situation, but as Morty examined Rick’s swaying body, Morty thought that Rick looked frail. Tremoring hands, tired eyes, lax shoulders, Rick never looked worse, and it was all self-inflicted, yet, this was the first time in a while that Rick was completely sober. Perhaps it was the lack of intoxicants intermixing with his blood that made him look so weak, or the three days of straight consciousness, or a combination of the two.
“Hey, Rick,” Morty tugged on Rick’s sleeve, only then did the man pause his work, still refusing to look at the boy. Morty began to drag his toe in a circle on the concrete floor, biting his lip as he tried to compose his thoughts into clear sentences before finally saying them. “Hey, uh, you’ve been working for a while. How about we have some dinner. And maybe afterward…uh…can we have a snowball fight? Maybe?”
“I’m almost done with this, Morty,” Rick finally spoke, voice gruff from lack of use. He tossed his screwdriver to the side, replacing it with a smaller one, hands shaking as he unscrewed a small panel from the device, exposing a few rows of multicolored wires. “Maybe if I hook the green wire with the black one, then it could work.”
“Please, Rick,” Morty tugged at his sleeve again, feeling little resistance this time around. Rick seemed to be getting weaker by the minute, Morty needed to get food into him as fast as he could. Morty tried pulling his arm back, trying to move him toward the door. Rick just waved him off, unlinking the green wire, joining it with the black one, a small electrical spark brightened the dark room for a split second. Rick quickly snapped back on the panel and pushed the bright green button. A whirling noise sounded briefly, before dying, Rick pounding his fists on the table in frustration.
“God fucking dammit!” Rick screamed, legs wobbling beneath him, threatening to bring him down. He hunched over on the worktable, elbows resting on the metal, head in hands.
“Now will you eat?” Morty asked, trying to make his voice sound more demanding, but failing. Rick merely shook his head in his hands, his internal gears clanking, trying to come up with some sort of answer out of this eternal joyful jail.
“I’ve got to keep working,” His words began to slur, just like they typically did when he was drunk. “I’m almost done.”
“If you don’t come with me now, I’m going to force you to come with me,” Morty sounded more confident this time, voice stronger now. Rick glanced over his shoulder, lazily raising a brow at his grandson.
“And what’re you going to do?” Rick sounded interested, but too tired to stay in tune with the conversation, resting his head back into his hands. Rick let out a long sigh, before letting out squeak, flinching back as he felt fingers prodding into his stomach. His eyes widened as he spun around to face his grandson, a clear mistake as Morty now had access to the entire, highly sensitive, stomach. Instead of fighting back, Rick just let the kid continue the onslaught, letting his head be thrown back into a fit of hysteria, back arching inward so he was closer to Morty’s fingers.
“You had enough yet?” Morty asked, amusement dripping off his words, happy that Rick was allowing him to do this. In most situations, Rick would have gotten Morty back by now or at least began to beg for him to stop. Rick, however, remained as still as he could, enjoying the experience more than Morty was. Maybe it was his exhaustion, maybe it was his sobriety, maybe it was a mix of both, but Rick was genuinely having a good time.
“Fine!” Rick finally said, a few good minutes after Morty started, the boy’s fingers wiggling into the hollows of Rick’s arms. “I’ll eat! I’ll eat!”
“Good,” Morty withdrew his hands, wide smile on his face. “Then you go to bed. And when you wake up, we’ll have a snowball fight!”
“Whatever you say, kid,” Rick replied, ruffling Morty’s hair playfully, taking in his grandson’s smile. “So, what’re we having?”
“You know, the usual,” Morty replied with a short laugh. While they both desperately wanted to go back home, to their proper home, they couldn’t help but enjoy the time they were sharing together. Maybe having eight Christmases wasn’t too bad after all.
A/N: This fic was requested by this lovely anon. @feathers-and-giggles helped me with this fic by RPing the prompt with me. She was Rick and I was Morty, then I edited everything to give you my first Rick and Morty tickle fic. Hope you like it!
“In this episode of ‘How They Do It… The Onydoc. Onydocs have been around for hundreds of years, but what type of work goes into making such a timeless piece of equipment? Well-”
“Ugh Rick can we please change the channel? Thi-this is so boring,” Morty pleaded. We’ve been watching this show for the past hour and a half.“
“Does it look-look like i care, M-morty?” Rick asked sarcastically, making sure to keep the remote close by him in case Morty attempted to take it.
“Now be q-quiet, I’m trying to-to watch the show,” he continued, his eyes never leaving the television screen.
Morty glared at his grandfather seated next to him on the couch. He eyeballed the remote on Rick’s lap. He suddenly made a grab for the controntoller. Rick quickly snatched it out of Morty’s reach and held it high above his head.
“Quit dicking around, Morty and let me watch my shoeeuugghw,” he bark.
Morty slumped on the couch defeated. The TV continued to drone on about the Onydoc. The explanation on how the device was crafted was pure nonsense to Morty and this channel always sounded somewhat improvised. Morty couldn’t take much more of this.
“Alright R-r-rick,“ Morty said suddenly. "If I can get that remote out of your hand in less then 20 seconds we get to watch what I want.”
Rick rolled his eyes, a scoff of sarcastic laughter leaving him. He was surprised that Morty was still hung up on their argument about the remote.
“Okay M-morty, ill play-play along. Only ‘cause I know I’ll w-w-win.” Rick said confidently.
Morty suddenly jumped on Rick and grabbed at the remote. Rick hoisted high above his head. He tugged on Rick’s arm, attempting to bring it down. But Rick wasn’t budging. Those skinny arms of his were much stronger then they looked.
Rick used his forearms to shove Morty into the couch cushions. He straddled his grandson’s hips and pushed Morty’s left shoulder further into the sofa, so now it was nearly impossible for Morty to grab the remote Rick held above his head. Morty wasn’t giving up, though. He ravenously yanked at Rick’s shirt trying to get his grandfather’s torso to bow.
“Ey, ey, watch the shirt Mort-AH!” An involuntary squeal slipped from Rick. Morty’s fingers had slipped from his initial grab at Rick’s shirt and he accidentally squeezed his grandpa’s side when his tried to regain his grasp on Rick’s shirt.
What the hell? Morty thought. Why did Rick yelp? Rick has a pain tolerance that’s insanely high. It takes a lot to hurt him.
Morty gave Rick’s side a quick, experimental squeeze. This time only annoyed grunt slipped from Rick.
“Cut it out you little turd,” Rick said through clenched teeth.
The answer suddenly hit Morty. Rick was ticklish. The teen could have face palmed himself for not realizing this sooner. With this knowledge he’d be watching “Ball Fondlers” in no time.
Morty seized Rick’s side and drilled his thumb into his hip. Rick doubled over and began to cackle.
“You l-l-little shit d-don’t do th-thahat!” Rick spat.
He released Morty’s shoulder and used his free hand to pry his grandson’s hand off his side. Rick was still determined to keep the remote away from Morty. He wouldn’t let something as lame as being ticklish make him lose this bet. He stuck the remote between the couch cushions and planted himself right over it. He knew he was being childish, but he didn’t quite care as his competitive side took over. Morty attempted to wriggle his hand into the couch cushions. But Rick kept blocking Morty’s hands.
“Come on, Rick!” Morty said becoming frustrated with Ric antics. Alright if Rick was going to be childish so was Morty. He grabbed at Rick’s sides and began kneading the area, hoping he’d start off with a good spot.
“Quit trying to tihihickle me! I’m n-n-not tihicklish!” Rick lied, biting his lip to contain his reactions. The man’s frame shook as he tried to hold in his snickering laughter. He swatted at Morty’s hands, trying to push them away from his torso while still trying to protect the remote.
“You’re lying Rick. I’d say you’re Ricki-tikki-ticklish!” Morty exclaimed moving his wiggling fingers up to Rick’s ribs.
“Shuhuhuhut up you little ahahahasshole!” Rick’s composure was starting to crumble, and when Morty dug into his ribs he snorted and erupted with laughter. Rick squirmed away from Morty’s touch, exposing the remote he had hid under himself. He hastily took the remote and held it triumphantly in the air.
“Haha! Got it! J-jeez Rick I had no idea you were ticklish,” Morty commented trying not to laugh at his flustered grandfather.
Rick grumbled incoherently, blushing a bit.
“Awe c-come on Rick. It’s actually kind of cute.” Morty said poking Rick’s belly. Rick frowned at that, his blush growing. Nothing about him was cute, and definately not that. He squeaked when Morty poked his tummy, covering it up with a grunt.
“It’s not f-f-f@#&$%* c-cute!” He snarled.
Morty’s heart was swelling. He’d never seen so flustered Rick before. It’d been such a long time since he heard Rick laughed freely. There was a small opening to Rick’s side under his crossed arms. Morty gave it a quick, playful squeeze. Rick snorted and let out a huff of laughter, grabbing Morty’s wrists to hinder his actions.
“Q-quihit it Mor-morty!” Rick complained. He was embarrassed to be showing such a weakness in front of Morty, but since he didn’t think that much harm would come from it, he didn’t really try to stop him.
“Why didn’t I know this sooner?” Morty laughed. A small playful spark was beginning to ignite inside of Morty. A big grin spread across his cheek. Completely forgetting about “Ball Fondlers”, Morty pounced on his grandfather and grabbed at his arms, attempting to pry them away from Rick’s midsection.
“Because I knew you-you’d never let m-m-me live it do-down.” Rick replied, letting out an annoyed grunt as Morty pounced on him. Rick knew that Morty wouldn’t let this new discovery go now.
Morty was able to free Rick’s midriff. He instantly shot his hands under Rick’s shirt and dug his hands into the middle of Rick’s belly. Rick squealed, letting out a burst of snickering laughter. He thrashed around under Morty, trying to buck him off of him while trying to tug his own shirt down in an attempt to cover his exposed stomach.
“Did-did you just squeal?” Morty teased. “Rick I’m barely touching you.” Morty moved up into Rick’s underarms and began kneading the area mercilessly.
“Sh-shuhut up- hahaha!! You-you dihirty bahastard!” Rick exclaimed, becoming even more embarrassed with Morty’s relentless teasing. He snorted and clamping his arms to sides as Morty suddenly dug into his underarms.
“What’d you just call me?” Morty said becoming a bit cocky. He spidered his fingers down Rick’s side to his waist band and started drilling his thumbs into Rick’s hips.
“Gahaha! You h-heheheard mehehe- haHAHA! B-b-bihihitch!” Rick squealed out, throwing his head back and practically howling with laughter when Morty drilled into his hips.
“Oh that’s it!” Morty yanked Rick’s shirt up and began blowing raspberries on his exposed stomach. Rick snorted and pushed at Morty’s face, desperately trying to get him off. Rick crawled over the arm of the couch, out of Morty’s torture, but his grandson was right on top of him. They both flopped to the ground. Rick landed on his stomach and Morty landed on top of him. He straddled Rick’s hips and began digging his fingers into his back ribs. Rick busted out into hysterical laughter. Tears were beading at the corner of his eyes.
“Am-am I a little bitch now, Rick?” Morty chided.
“F-f-f$%@ yohohohou, Mortehehehey!” Rick screeched, banging his fists on the carpet.
Morty had finally gotten into a stable position on Rick and wasn’t letting up for anything. It was hard for Rick to fight Morty off while lying on his stomach. If he tried to lift himself off the floor Morty would either dig into his stomach or shoot his hands into Rick’s underarms, with surprisingly, amazing precision. Each attack was aimed perfectly, where Rick would collapse into a heap of laughter and snorts the moment Mort my made contact. Rick was a very strong man for his age. He could fight off almost anyone with ease. But somehow his adolescent grandson was able to bring his to his knees with just some pokes to the belly. Tickling truly was one of Rick’s greatest weaknesses.
Morty drilled his thumbs into Rick’s hips and began kneading the tender area cupped by the man’s hipbones. At that point Rick completely lost it. Laughter wasn’t sufficient for his reaction anymore. He curled into himself writhing with silent convulsions.
Morty say how hysterical Rick had gotten and thought it was time to give his poor grandpa a break. Rick was still giggling even after Morty had removed his tickling hands. It was definitely an odd sight, Rick on the floor giggling freely like a child, but it brought a smile to Morty’s face.
“So can we watch Ball Fondlers now,” Morty asked after Rick’s laughter completely died down. Rick tried to look livid or at least annoyed, but the laughter still bubbling in his belly made it a bit of a challenge for him. In complete honesty he enjoyed the little rough housing with Morty. He was just embarrassed that it was at his expense.
“Yeah sure, you little turd,” Rick grumbled. He and Morty resumed their places on the couch to enjoy and afternoon of Ball Fondlers.
