Work Text:
The time he was drunk
Morty hears him coming up the stairs, drunk. Of course, he is drunk. His hands find their way to the handle, which turns a few times before he seems to remember he needs to push the door to open it.
They made eye contact, but the light coming from the hallway didn't let Morty feel confident in that. His grandpa stumbles and mumbles something his grandson doesn't understand.
“What?” He says in a half-whisper, unsure if he wants others there.
“Say no.” Morty manages to make out as Rick falls face-first into his bed.
“Why? To what? What is-”
“Shut up… just say no, you little shit.” Rick interrupts him.
The wind moves the curtains and pushes the door back to its place. The loud thud makes Morty move his head instinctively, though Rick overcomes that instinct and continues to look at his grandson. Now, even with no light, Morty is absolutely sure they are looking into each other’s eyes.
He begs, Morty feels it in the way his hand taps the mattress just beside his leg, not getting closer, not moving any further away than he is when Morty moves, now fully sitting up. He wants to ask again; he wants an answer, but he knows Rick won't give him. Sometimes he wondered if he let things go because Rick is stubborn, or if Rick is stubborn because he knows Morty will eventually let things go.
“No-o” His voice shakes, Rick looks away, so he takes his face with his hand. “No,” he said with more confidence.
A strange smile makes its way to his grandpa’s face, and he rubs his cheek on the hand that was holding his face, falling asleep with half his body inching closer to the floor than the mattress. Morty waits up all night, wondering what Rick wanted so badly that was so evil he had to ask the one person who could deny him that. He hoped his grandpa would wake up and he could grill him, but it never happened.
The time he didn’t ask
Morty has seen Rick in many situations. Funny, gross, sad, but miserable, outwardly so, was the first time. His garage was a mess. Experiments were let loose, machines were broken with parts scattered around the floor and workbench, chemicals, both poisonous and healing, were mixed on the walls, turning strange colors and emitting rancid smells.
Rick was new in his life; he was mysterious, and he brought life back into Morty’s world. He was holding him up, stumbling while trying to get him to his bed.
“MoOOortY,” He burps it out, his saliva tickling down his grandson’s neck. “I’ll deny if you if you say I said this, but…”
Morty wasn't really paying attention to the ramblings his grandfather was spitting out; he was more concerned about how out of shape he was and how to get up the stairs. Suddenly, Rick pushes him against the wall, and the family portrait shakes but doesn't fall off its nail.
“Listen, you fucking, you little” He takes a deep breath, and his right hand rises to his temple, massaging it. “When I ask, and I won't often, listen, fuck, when I ask, say no, you got it? You fucking-” He cuts himself off, looking at his grandson, his face softens “I-i’m sorry, please, sorry, just, no, got it?”
Morty nodded. Maybe after a little sleep, he could make some sense of whatever Rick was trying to tell him.
“Let's get you to bed, o-okay?” Morty wraps his arms around Rick, looking from afar, one could mistake it for a hug.
“Oh man,” He starts laughing, “if you, fucking hell, if you only knew” His whole body presses against Morty, his breath warming up Morty’s ear and, the proximity, his face.
The time he was sober
Morty ran, holding something that did not want to be held. The street lights were carefully shot out one by one, making the stars illuminate the path he ran towards. He sees the reflection of the astros on the ship’s windshield and slides across the floor to make it. The shouting gets quieter as Rick quickly opens the door before turning around to continue shooting at the aliens.
Morty sits in the passenger seat, his breath fast and his cheeks red from watching Rick put his own life in danger to protect him. His heart begins to settle as his grandpa makes his way to the driver’s seat. They quickly drive away.
“That was incredible,” Morty lets out the air from his lungs, petting the… thing… in his lap.
Rick stares at where Morty was petting the alien. His eyebrow furrows. “Yeah,” He leans back, letting one of his hands on the steering wheel, the other one taps away at his thigh.
“What? You were super excited to… I don't know, make drugs with this? Probably?” He turns the alien around in his hand, trying to understand its use.
The alien squeals for a good ten seconds. Morty panicked, trying to see what could soothe it, before Rick grabbed it and threw it in the back of the car, admittedly shutting it up, maybe for good.
“What the fuck, Rick?” Morty raises his arms, his hands moving back and forth to the alien and his grandpa.
“Say no,” He said through his teeth, still looking ahead.
“To what?” Morty crossed his arms, now staring ahead to the emptiness of the universe. He is tired of these random “episodes” Rick has, where he is angry, and while it doesn't seem to be because of something he did, he can't help but think he is the reason why.
Asteroids pass closer by than Morty would have wanted, but he is taking a stand, refusing to look at Rick or answer his growls. ‘If he wants to say something, he can, I’m out of the translating business’ He thinks to himself, and in a reflex, he pushes some air out of his nose.
“It's not like I need your consent, you know, there is a whole website.” Rick begins to mumble, both his hands on the wheel now, his knuckles turning white.
“Do you want to say something?” Now he looks at his grandpa, to his surprise, he looks back.
His face shifted from anger to… embarrassment? Regret? Morty isn't sure, but he feels now he could-
“Nothing,” Rick sighs. “Do what you want,” He starts looking through any distress signals on a projected screen.
He was going to give in. No, he wasn't. He needs to show Rick he deserves answers. He hates to see him hurt. He looks genuinely so upset. Morty’s thoughts continue in a stream, back and forth.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Rick shifts closer to his door, away from his grandson.
“No,” He smiles at him, maybe he shouldn't have said it, but his grandpa visibly relaxes, and that is enough for now.
“...Thank you”
Morty’s eyes opened wide. This was new. This was good. He turns his attention to the vast space around them, and it doesn't seem too overwhelming now. The alien found his way back to Morty’s lap.
“Get that shit-” Rick moves his hand in a dismissive way.
“No,” Morty interrupts him. This time, Rick doesn't protest, turning back to driving.
“Wanna go rob an abandoned planet? There was some virus, but it won't affect us… probably” He said the last word with half his mouth, almost as if hoping the sound wouldn't travel to Morty’s ears.
Morty chuckles, “Yeah, sounds fun”.
Rick fights a smile; it wins.
The time Beth asks
“Morty” Beth, sitting at the dining table, doesn't even look up as she hears her father and son pass her by.
She can feel Rick rolling his eyes, but today isn't about him. Well, it is. ‘It’s always about him’ she thinks to herself, and realizes Morty is staring at her, waiting for her to say what she wanted.
“You need to do the dishes today, before going out,” She raises her hand before Rick can raise his voice, “Or he won't go on any adventures for a month.”
“It’s okay, Rick, wait in the ship, I'll be right there.” He gave a reassuring smile, and Beth is almost sure her father blushed before turning to the garage, mumbling alien insults she is sure are for her.
To her surprise, he really does walk away. She felt the question ich in her throat ‘How does he do it? How does he make Rick listen to him?’ Even though she was sure of the why, she couldn't let herself go that far. Her phone sat in her hand; she wasn't even sure what she was looking at when she heard running water.
Beth carefully makes her way to the kitchen. She isn't sure what she expected, but there has been this… atmosphere around Morty lately. And yet, all she sees is her son washing dishes.
“Morty…” She feels like a teenager asking her parents to go out to a party on a school night. The left side of the body pressed against the door’s frame.
“Yeah?” He looks at her for a second before going back, “You need me to do something else?” He tried his best not to let his annoyance show. She is his mom, she’s trying to teach him how to live, and he understands that. However, he also knows he barely lives on earth.
“Say no to Rick,” She stands firmly now, a little bit closer. ‘Should I open my arms? Should I hug him?’ Her thoughts began to accelerate as her son froze.
“What? Why-y would you say that?” He goes for casual, but curiosity is clearly in his voice, and much to his demise, desperation was in his eyes. Did she know? Whatever Rick won't tell him? The only time Rick wants to make sure he has a choice?
“Rick…” She looks away, closing her eyes with enough strength to hurt. She breathes out, “He has a way of making himself the center of your life. I don't want you to feel like you have to say yes to something you don't want just because he will leave. It’s not your fault if he-”
Morty laughs; he can't help it. How many times has he told Rick no at this point? How many times has his grandpa asked him to? If Rick wanted to leave him, Morty wouldn't wake up with him in his bed every day. He would change realities. Fuck it, he could use his coupon and get one Cidadelle-produced Morty.
Morty isn't sure there hasn’t been a day when Rick wasn't interested in him.
“Sorry, Mom. It's okay, trust me, I say no to Rick plenty of times,” He waves his hand a bit, dropping some dishwashing soap on the floor. His mom just stares at him, though.
Feeling her eyes on him, he continues washing the dishes, trying to get away as fast as possible.
“Just… tell me if you need to tell me anything.” She walks away before a response, because part of her, one she long tried to bury, was jealous.
She would never feel so sure that Rick would stay by her side to laugh the possibility off. Hell, she isn't even confident in saying no to him, thinking that if she denies him something, there are plenty of other Beths that won't. Her son not taking this seriously is just another cruel joke of the universe to remind her she is not the protagonist here. Rick is.
And Rick wants Morty.
‘No,’ She sits back at the dining table, watching the lights under the closed garage door ‘Rick wants only Morty. ’
The time he said no
“Yes, Beth, he is fine.” Rick walked back and forth in their motel room. “It’s the best hotel in the multiverse! He is being treated like a king! Trust me, he will be begging to stay longer than one night- no, we are only staying one night- Beth”
Morty moved to the bathroom; that was going to be a long conversation. The ship was shot down; Rick could fix it, but the parts are only arriving in the morning. They also might have gotten high and spent all the fluid on the portal gun.
He laughs as the warm water hits his hands. He steps further into the shower and remembers Rick messing with some guy’s alien-halloween decorations across different universes. He had told him, the guy had been an asshole, though Morty knew it was entirely possible his grandfather just didn't get what he wanted and was now fucking with some alien for his own amusement and some weird revenge fantasy.
His mom was worried, she had been increasingly so when they took longer than a couple of hours on adventures. Before this… shift, he could have gone missing for days, and she wouldn't have noticed until it was his turn to take out the trash. Now, he can still hear Rick discussing how they are safe and how Morty could contact her anytime he wanted. Morty does make a mental note that Rick told her they were at a hotel, when the mirror attached to the ceiling made it very clear they weren't.
He felt calmer when he came out of the shower. The steam made the mirror blurry, and he made a happy face on it. As much as it infuriated him not to know what Rick was asking of him, a question that almost seemed to echo from how much more often he had been asked it as he grew older, he also noticed their relationship seemed better.
Rick was talking more to him, about his past, stuff that bothers him, he was just more open… honest. He wasn't keeping Morty at arms-length anymore, and he noticed how little he curses him out when he doesn't feel the need to push his grandson away.
There were moments, however, where Rick would appear hurt. In a way, Morty hadn't seen, in the way he was looking at Morty right now.
“Bathroom’s free if you wanna use it,” He felt… perceived.
“Your clothes are dirty.” Rick had been staring at his phone, clearly angry at having to justify keeping his grandson away for a day. Now, the phone almost slips out of his hand, his frowning brow disappearing in exchange for Morty.
“I don't have any other, should I sleep naked?” His laugh gets cut off by Rick.
“NO” He stands up. Morty tilts his head to the side. Rick opens his mouth, but doesn't say anything. He picks up some objects from the room, dismantling them. “I’ll work on the ship.”
Morty has woken up with Rick next to him enough times to remember his weight in bed. It’s how he knows Rick never came back to the room.
The time Morty said yes
“Wanna go to this alien bar? It only opens once, then if the owners give a good party, they get killed and sent to heaven, if they fail, they… I guess also get killed, but like go to hell?”
Morty was staring at his phone, looking at the digital flyer explaining where this bar would open. Rick hummed, not really answering his grandson, who just barged into the garage. Long were the days when Morty got nervous knocking on the door; long were the days he felt the need to knock.
“You promise, my twenty-first birthday would be wherever I wanted. My adventure.” Morty crossed his arms, staring daggers at the back of Rick’s head.
Rick sighed, his shoulders slouching. He turns his chair around with his feet, his eyes linger around Morty, as if defining what was him and what was air, his left hand moving a screwdriver across his fingers.
“Alright,” He turns around, and soon the machine he was working on emits bright colors and soothing sounds.
Morty sat on the balcony, half paying attention, half playing on his phone. Until a song he vaguely remembers hits his ears. He looks down at another of his grandfather’s creations, the way the lights danced seemed oddly familiar.
“It’s your gift, since you decided to basically BREAK my door,” Rick exclaims, exaggerating his movements and tone, pointing at a completely fine door.
Morty laughs, rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen this somewhere,” his fingers dance along the humanoid-light-figures.
“It’s from that festival we went to.” He drinks from his flask. “They were translucent, you said it looks like lights yada yada, I made them for you, so now you can stop complaining about never seeing them again.” Despite his words, Rick smiled as he accompanied Morty’s eyes; the shine from the figures reflected on them.
Morty jumps on his grandpa, throwing his arms around his neck. “Thank you, thank you! I’ll put them somewhere safe,” He lets go, grabbing the machine .“This is fucking awesome, Rick, you are a genius,” he giggles, raising the machine above his head, before running to his room.
“I’m sooooo fucked.” Rick rests his face on his hands, his long fingers digging into his skull, begging for his brain to give him an answer, a way out, anything. “So much for genius, hum?” He asks himself. He doesn't answer.
The night of the launch party, they reunite outside, the ship already on and waiting. Morty jumps on the passenger seat, his phone’s screen shining his face with the bar’s menu.
“Apparently, this dude is getting bartenders from all over the galaxy, they will do one drink each that they have invented and never done.” He turns his phone towards Rick, who rolls his eyes without even looking.
Rick’s hands move without thought. It isn't until the liquor burns his throat and he feels Morty’s stare on him that he realizes, placing his flask back in his pocket. “I could have kidnapped those guys for you, it wouldn't take me a day.”
Morty doesn't let this bother him; he goes on about which drinks he thinks he will order. Though there was no ingredient list, Rick assured him he could cure anything. The song played over the radio was left as white noise, as they exchanged stories of drinking or eating they definitely shouldn't have.
“It’s not fair, you are in most of my fun stories.” Morty held his stomach as their laughter started to hurt. “I can't tell you that, you already know.” He throws his arms in the air before letting himself sink into his seat.
“Do you wish I wasn't?” It was said sarcastically, but Morty couldn't help but see a genuine request for an answer.
“No,” he smiles, at this point, it was almost an inside joke. One he wished he was a part of. “You were why it was fun.”
The radio finally makes its presence known as silence settled between them. Morty nodded along the rhythm, mindlessly watching them enter the planet’s atmosphere.
“We also wouldn't have to wait in line,” Rick calls back to their conversation.
“We also wouldn't have to wait if we had left early, like I told you we should.”
“Boring, I'll go bribe the guard.”
“Sounds good, I’ll go eat whatever that guy is selling in his cart, smells good.”
“Alright, try not to die.”
It was a strange way to say goodbye, even weirder to say I'll see you later. The crowd around them thought so and collectively decided it was none of their business. Rick waits by the door, watching Morty thank the seller and run, with a huge smile on his face, to him. Rick wanted to do so many things, but instead, he took the food and led them inside, pretending not to notice he was holding Morty awfully close to his hand rather than his arm.
Admittedly, the food did taste amazing. The bar was crowded, but not enough they couldn't move around different balconies with the bartenders. The music vibrated through the floor, and the drunker Morty got, the funnier it was to feel the small shakes the beat ran across his body. Rick also had to admit, the drinks were pretty good. He started the night only ordering for his grandson, “I have my flask, nothing can get me drunk like it.” However, in an attempt to avoid poisoning, he had been drinking the first sip.
Morty pulled him to the dance floor, his blueish drink, a sour-tasting one, spilled a little. The liquid danced alongside his grandson. But Rick was too distracted by the fact that Morty’s tongue was blue. irrational thoughts flood his brain ‘Blue is my color, he can't just… drink it’. While others ventured into dangerous territory, ‘He can’t move like that, he can't step closer to me’. Unfortunately for Rick, the bar was starting to fill, and now they were face-to-face.
“RICK” He yelled, close to his ear, maybe too loud to be this close, but his grandpa didn't mention “I have a birthday… thingy, you know?”
Rick looks at him confused, and Morty stops to think it over. It’s clear when he remembers it, his face lights up, he throws his arm around Rick’s neck, this time to pull him closer. “A PRESENT”
“I already gave you a present,” Rick kept his hands floating in the air, around Morty’s waist, but never touching it. He feels Morty's long-forgotten drink spill on his back, he doesn't care.
Morty shook his head side to side, then laughed at how dizzy he got. Now Rick’s hand quickly grabs him, keeping him from falling. “OUTSIDE” is all Rick manages to understand.
A green portal opens under them, and Morty throws himself in that familiar feeling. Soon, the parking lot next to the ship gets painted blue with the rest of his drink. Morty yells, using the ship to stabilize himself.
“I loved it! Drinks were perfect, music was fun, people were-” He pulled Rick closer by his lab coat, searching inside for the keys.
“When did you talk to people?” Rick speaks through his teeth.
“When you went to take a leak,” Morty looks up to see Rick’s displeased face, “What, jealous I’ll find another grandpa?” He laughs.
Rick doesn't. ‘That's the problem, isn't it?’ His thoughts made sure this wound never healed. ‘You aren't jealous of grandfathers’.
“Rick… I want a gift.”
“So you mentioned.” This time, a smile reaches his face. What wouldn’t he give Morty if he asked?
“I want you to ask me”
The planet’s sun rises behind Rick. “You don't know what you are asking m.e” His breathing was getting faster, yet none of his bodily tech warned him of any danger.
“But you do! Don't pretend” Morty takes Rick’s face in his hand, forcing Rick to look at him.
“Morty… do you…?”
“Yes.” A moment of sobriety hits them. Morty wasn't slurring his speech, he made it very clear what his answer was.
“You don't-” He tries to turn away, but Morty’s hand stands firm on his lab coat.
“Then tell me! What is so fucking horrible you can't even say it out-”
“I wanna fuck you.” It didn't sound like a request. Nor a declaration, it sounded like a war cry.
“Yes,” Morty steps closer, making them lose balance and end up on the floor. “I know the question now. That's my answer.” He sat, a little above Rick’s hips, his hands holding himself up on Rick’s chest.
“No, you don't.” He sits up, ready to push Morty away.
Morty kisses him. It’s not a perfect kiss in the rain, there are no chocolates or flowers. There is music from the building nearby, aliens chatting as they walk to their ship, and there is a cold ground. His fingers run through Rick’s hair. He begins to doubt himself ‘Was he messing with me? Did he just say what he thought would shut me up? Does he hate me?’.
Rick kisses him back. He does more than that; he intensifies it. Their kiss turns deeper as the cold air hits Morty’s back, for just a moment before Rick’s warm hands take its place, mapping his body.
The ride home was quiet. The garage wasn't.