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Rick’s been staring at a mop of tousled brown curls for ten minutes now.
If he was going to be honest, it hardly felt like ten minutes. He was standing six feet behind the living room couch, taking his time to drink a beer, composing himself before he went back to his seat. His eyes trace the slopes of those curls, all the twists and turns of those tresses. For some unknown reason, recently he’s been having the nascent urge of running his fingers through them. Maybe find out how they feel under his touch.
He tsks, attempting to shake the thoughts out of his mind, before walking towards the front of the couch to take a seat so they can binge the new season of Ball Fondlers. It was a Saturday which meant Morty had the opportunity to watch TV all night since there wasn’t the responsibility of school waiting for him the next day. Rick always enjoyed these moments every week, even as going as far to remember not to piss off an evil overlord before the weekend so they can have this peaceful time undisturbed. Sometimes they needed a break too.
With the sound of his footsteps approaching, Morty perked up like a little puppy at his presence, obviously delighted at his return no matter how short was the time he took to get a cold beer from the fridge. Rick tries to avert his eyes from the little affection of the attention, not really trusting his face to keep a bored neutral expression.
“It’s gonna start, Rick! You should sit down.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Rick says, opting to sit on Jerry’s armchair even if he never sat there ever since he came into this house. Morty picks up on his decision, analyzing the little abnormality with his auburn eyes. Rick cocks a brow back at him and Morty just shrugs, returning his attention back to the colorful moving pixels on the television.
Surreptitiously, Rick longingly eyed his regular spot in the living room couch. He always sat next to Morty, the proximity always felt natural to him. They spent so much time together that sometimes when something awesome happens Rick automatically looks beside him and says, "Hey Morty did you see that?!", "Hey Morty that was so cool, wasn't it?", "What do you think about that, Morty?" regardless if he's actually there or not. And God not only was that embarrassing as fuck, he’s glad that the only family member who witnessed him doing this was Jerry.
It did say a lot about him that he didn’t really want to think about.
It didn’t really mattered much to him, didn’t really cross his mind that often. Well… until now.
He’s stopped getting touchy with Morty a week ago. Rick’s been recently making a subtle effort to put a reasonable distance between them, and no, it wasn’t because of that goddamn virus that was taking all over the world. It was because he started having these thoughts. It always comes to him when they’re alone, like now when they’re watching TV in the living room or other times like when they’re floating aimlessly out on space inside the ship. Rick’s been aware that he’s started having idle thoughts of touching Morty more. But goddamn, from idle thoughts it became more and more intrusive- to the point he can't stop thinking about it.
Rick has a very close relationship with the random tugs of lust. It’s like an old friend that drops by your place unannounced sometimes, unexpected but always welcome. He’s the last person in the universe to be ‘shy’ about his desires, he has that all the time for other people, and sometimes they don’t even have to be people. Aliens, objects, and even planets- it’s not new to him to have fantasies of fucking. Sex was a primal need. It was important for the survival of species. It was a kind of hunger not to be ashamed about.
He always had fun with it though. He treated it like a sport, treated his body like an instrument of pleasure. There was a long list of beings he satisfied that could attest to that. So when he started to get easy fantasies of bending Morty over a desk and fucking him until his pretty little brown eyes roll back, Rick isn't alarmed in the slightest.
What really bothers him though is his growing desire to get close. Having daydreams of tugging those curls with his fists to make Morty gag on his cock was nothing but commonplace. He knew he was one horny motherfucker and Morty just happened to have a really plump red lips built for face-fucking. But for him to daydream of running his fingers through his hair gently, just like how he imagined a while ago, until Morty’s breathing softly, adorably sound asleep? Now that’s a problem.
He just doesn't want Morty's back against his chest, sitting on his lap to screw him. Rick wants him to sit there while he's driving the ship or watching TV because he can't ignore the gnawing feeling that says that's where Morty exactly belongs.
Beside him, against him, on top of him, under him.
Rick doesn't care as long as he's anywhere. Anywhere close.
And that was something he didn’t really want to emotionally examine, knowing he’d be terrified of the answers it could have.
“Rick?”
He blinks, returning to the present, finding Morty looking at him with a questioning glance.
“Yeah?”
“You weren’t watching,” Morty observes for the both of them.
“The new season’s really slow, Morty. The added conspiracy plot is just dragging the action like a wet mop.”
"Oh," Morty says simply, turning the TV off with the remote. “You wanna go somewhere then?”
“Sure.”
Rick takes his portal gun and fires a swirling neon green portal on the floor. He watches Morty step on it, not even bothering asking where it leads to, always loyally trusting Rick and his decisions.
He sighs, not wanting to act so bothered just because there was something on his mind. It’s just a distraction. It’ll pass, he thinks as he jumps on the portal himself.
-
One swirling green portal and two melted ice pops later, they're sitting on the blue verdant grass of planet Salexison, the flamebugs skittering around, glowing like miniature people set on fire. Rick's relaxing on the grass, pretending to watch the purple skies but in truth he's watching Morty from the corner of his eyes.
"Rick can I ask something?" Morty says suddenly, his gaze not leaving the flamebugs he's following.
Rick holds his breath. Has he found out? He's found it out right? Even a blind man could. No. This is Morty he's talking about. He wouldn't-
"Do I smell?"
“What?”
"I'm asking if I smell bad," Morty continues on, and Rick thought he looked reflective earlier but it's just pouting all along. "Just tell me already if I have body odor or something."
"What the fuck made you think that?"
"The way you're acting!" I mean, you've been sitting so far from me on the couch nowadays like I have space aids or something. You've stop hanging by my shoulder when we're walking, and the way you look at me- yo-you always have this frown on your face like I pissed you off without knowing about it. You see? You're laughing! Oh my god why didn't you tell me??? What if Jessica-"
"Morty shut the fuck up right now or I'm gonna combust."
"Rick-"
"Shut up, Morty," Rick groans, wiping his eyes and panting for more air. The flamebugs scatter some more from his thunderous laughter. Holy shit he's been imagining fucking him in six different positions and Morty thinks he's looking at him like that because he smells bad? Jesus.
What a fucking idiot.
Rick opens his mouth and struggles to explain but the second he does only laughter comes out from his lips. He tries and fails on calming himself down before Morty overthinks some more and get his ass offended.
"Morty it's a lot of things but it's not that. Y-yo-you don't smell bad."
"Ha ha," he says dryly. "Very reassuring." Despite the obvious tone of annoyance, Morty sits back down on the ground and plays with the blades of grass with his fingers. “Speaking of Jessica, God I wonder how our first kiss will be like."
Rick scoffs. "Like that's going to happen."
"I could dream."
"And even if it ever happened, which I know it won't because it's impossible, your virgin mouth wouldn't know what to do with a girl."
"But I watch-"
"Yes I know you watch porn, Morty. I’m aware of all the genres."
It slips out from Rick before he realizes how suspicious that sounds so he plays it off swiftly by talking more. "Nothing beats real experience. You're young. You can find another loser like you who needs some training wheels before they ride the whole motorcycle."
Yeah right. He could just pretend this is all casual talk by implying Morty can do it with anyone, not like Rick's going to secretly wipe the existence of the poor bastard who's going to steal Morty's first kiss.
"Yo-yo-you'll figure it out eventually," Rick finishes before he ends up saying something worse because of his rambling.
"It's not like I have other friends Rick, or have the opportunity to make them especially when you're always dragging me 24 hours a day to steal whatever thingamabob that caught your eye that week."
"That's your problem then. Use a pillow."
"Or I could just use you."
In the speed of light, Rick whips his head to look at him in alarm and he belatedly realizes it's a very wrong move because Morty misunderstands when he gets a glimpse of his grandfather's panicked expression.
"I was joking," Morty says, trying to sound light but the hurt is still evident in his tone. "You don't have to look so disturbed about it."
"That's a rickdiculous joke, Morty."
"What's more ridiculous is that you're still using that word."
Morty looks away, focusing on following the flamebugs again with his line of sight as if they were the most fascinating things in the universe. Rick swipes a hand through his hair, sighing. God, he fucked something up again by wanting to not fuck something up in the first place.
"I-I-I don't think you're gross, Morty," he says solemnly, "I just think you're forgetting one very important point here. Well two actually. One is that I'm fucking ancient, and two is that I'm your grandpa."
"If we acted appropriately according to our roles, you'll be in a nursing home by now and I would be rubbing your aching back. You're not just my grandpa, Rick," Morty explains, capturing his gaze, "Yo-yo-you're-"
Rick waits with bated breath.
"You're my best friend too."
Oh.
That was... something.
He didn't really expect that but he felt something mysteriously bloom warm in his chest. Not just a friend, but a best friend. And here he was thinking that he's just roping Morty all around the universe, dragging him out of his bed every night to go to another dimension and see some random shit and maybe get a good adventure out of it if they're lucky. It wasn't so one sided after all.
"Okay fuck it… g-ge-get over here."
"What?"
"I said get over here."
"Rick I was joking. You don't have to-"
"I'm not going to ask you again, Morty. Now get your ass over here before I change my mind."
As if he would. He's been dreaming about this for months.
Morty gingerly takes a step close to him and Rick has to keep his poker face like his life depended on it, can't actually believe this is all happening and he's not gonna wake up with cold sweat and an embarrassing hard on he has to deal with in his own empty bed. Morty sits down beside him, just close enough that Rick can trace the constellations in his freckles.
"Oh my god Morty. Don't lick your lips you little shit-" Rick laughs, brushing a palm all over his face.
"I'm not making this weird! They're just chapped and I'm nervous."
"I'm not going to fucking take your virginity, calm down." There's a mischievous upspoken 'yet' at the end of that sentence but Morty doesn't really need to know that, does he?
Rick repositions them, motioning Morty to scoot closer to him with the most uninterested tone he could muster.
"So ho-how are we going to umm, to-to do this?" Morty asks once they're in position.
"You're gonna act like the girl whose socks you're going to knock off, and I'm going to teach you very slowly so your pea brain can comprehend all of this and learn a thing or two about making out."
"R-R-Right. Ea-easy enough."
"Now first things first. You have to get in the moment. I know your horny ass will be going in for the kill the second you get her alone, or your awkwardness won't even take the chance if it comes up so you have to establish the moment. Subtly. Take her somewhere special."
Morty looks around their surroundings. "Like here?"
"You don't have to take her to another planet, Morty."
"No I mean like, somewhere romantic right? With a picturesque view and twinkling lights?"
Ah fuck. "...Y-Yeah."
"Okay. Um. What uh- what's next?"
"You give her time to be prepared for the moment. A warning, if you will. To do that you have to take her hand gently first," Rick says, taking Morty's hand and following every word he's saying. "-And lean in very slowly. You gotta- uh, you gotta look into her eyes and see if she wants this too. If there's any hint of doubt, stop. If she inches away from you, stop. If she says stop-"
"Stop," Morty finishes. "Okay I get it."
"Good," Rick says proudly as if he was the great paragon of consent. "That's uhh- that's great. Now I'll teach you the ol' Sanchez maneuver. You can put your other palm round her nape gently. Chicks dig that a lot."
"...Woah. That's uhh." Morty gulps. "That's kinda effective, Rick."
Rick rolls his eyes. “No shit. You’re already blushing and I haven’t even done anything yet.”
Morty bites his own lip without really thinking about it and Rick closes his eyes praying and cursing the non-existent god that blessed him with that sight. Fuck. They're really doing this, aren't they?
"Alright so that's all you need to know before I- before you and I- Shit. Just uhh- ar-are you ready?"
Morty nods, closing his eyes like some goddamn blushing maiden and Rick just goes for it, leaning in until he captures those lips with his own.
"That was just a peck," Morty points out when they separate again for space to breathe and Rick couldn't really help but almost smile at the disappointment in his tone.
"That's what you do," Rick whispers, not leaning back far because he's semi distracted with looking at the lips he just touched. "You start with a peck to see if she's fallen in love with you."
"What do you do if she doesn't?"
Rick slightly shrugs, tucking a brown stray curl over Morty's ear before leaning back in again. "You try again until she does."
Rick kisses him again. He pushes his tongue against Morty's mouth to open his lips for access. Rick groans low when he gets inside, slowly exploring every crevice of his sweet little mouth. His dreams were a cheap comparison to the real thing, and he kisses Morty more to silently tell him just that. Morty naturally transitions from awkwardly sitting beside him to sitting snugly on Rick's lap, the warmth of their bodies radiating off on each other's clothed skin. Rick smiles against his mouth.
His earlier suspicions were correct.
Morty perfectly belonged here.
"You've fallen with me in love yet?" Rick asks when they both lean back to get some oxygen.
"What?" Morty asks dazed, his mind already lightyears away from this universe.
"I mean, I'm asking you if that was good."
"Oh. I-I-I-," Morty stammers, forgetting that this was just supposed to be a lesson not a make out session. "I don't know yet." Despite the verbal doubt, it's Morty who shows enthusiasm by hooking his arms around Rick's shoulders. "Let's umm, let's just try again. Okay?"
They do just that. They kiss until Rick's impatient hands reach below his shirt and wander around his back to his hips. He swallows the moans that slip from Morty's mouth when their crotches press flush against, Morty unconsciously undulating his hips. Their bodies move in the same rhythm, a slow and sluggish tempo only reserved for lovers. Though at moments their teeth clink against each other or their noses brush clumsily, they both take a second to laugh, giggling before they recover and get lost again in their own world.
"Shit, Morty, you can't grind against your future girlfriend. She has to be the one doing the grinding on top, you little turd-" Rick teases him, but in truth it's a warning to stop because he knows he's getting closer and closer to the point of where he can't control himself.
"As if you're letting me get a girlfriend."
Rick freezes. He opens his eyes to properly acknowledge Morty in front of him and feels caught when their eyes lock on each other.
"Morty, I-" he starts to explain, not really knowing what to say next.
"I know," Morty reassures him, and Rick opens his mouth to protest to say he doesn't understand but Morty shushes him with a smile. "You don't have to say it. I know."
"But you said-"
"I was joking about the smell earlier." Morty rolls his eyes. "I might be stupid but I'm not that stupid.... and it's really hard not to notice, you know?"
"I-I'm sorry. I know this is fucked up. I can make you forget about this. We don't have to-"
"Don't say sorry... or anything else," Morty sighs, letting the words hang in the air for a moment, drawing imaginary patterns on Rick's sweater, pressing their foreheads together. Rick's mind should be running a hundred thoughts a second but he can't really think of anything right now. The sky turns into a deep indigo, allowing the auroras to shimmer in the vault of the heavens. Sapphire, ruby, citrine, emerald, and aquamarine lights shift gently and dance like translucent curtains. Rick knew auroras were only the result of disturbances in the magnetosphere caused by solar wind, but at this moment it was as if he forgot science and believed in magic.
"And Rick?" Morty says quietly after a while. Those soft lips anoint a kiss on his forehead.
"Yeah?"
"I've always loved you too."