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"Goddamn, Morty, stop moving." Rick pulled out his flask from his labcoat for what could've been the tenth time, drinking calmly as he stared at the screen.
Late night, a cold saturday, the moon hidden within clouds, Rick sat with his legs crossed on the couch, Morty sat lazily in his lap, exactly where he belonged, both because that's where he'd always sit whenever they were alone and because it was more practical, it was either have him there or have him jump frantically like a panicked animal, which was oddly sweet for the first thirty minutes, but after the one hour mark it became annoying, especially when drunk, Rick would get overly worried and sentimental, so every time Morty got scared he'd scared for a second before realizing why Morty was even scared in the first place.
After years of adventures, it had become instinct for Rick to always check for Morty's emotional and physical state, though this felt like a waste of his abilities, either way he found a way to benefit, which was simply resting his head on Morty's head and keeping him close, which could potentially hurt him whenever Morty jumped out of fear but he was ready to roll the dice, though with so many cybernetic augmentations he doubted he'd be the one getting hurt
At every loud sound, every hollowing scream that followed those tense silences, every time Rick would even dare to breathe a bit too loud, Morty would flinch, very dramatically if he may add, he'd jump the way a cat would when scared, occasionally going out his own way to try to not see whatever was on screen, whether it was hiding his face in his hands, hiding it in Rick's hands (somehow), hiding in his labcoat (because of course he fits there), or turning around completely just to bury himself in Rick, wherever he could fit.
The movie wasn't particularly scary, just loud at most, which Rick was used to, and he'd assume Morty was too, though his faith in that belief grew weaker every time Morty flinched and shrieked like he had seen satan himself, it was like three hours long and it was about a cult, some religious horror like that, not like Rick was paying attention, some scenes and monologues were interesting, but he couldn't remember more than a few lines that he found clever.
Near the two hour mark, there was a scene of a specific nun or cultist getting possessed, probably to become the main villain since it was taking so long to the actual transformation or whatever happened when somebody got possessed in this universe, the scene was tense, the music softly unsettling, a lullaby as always, he felt Morty's whole body tense up during this whole scene, Rick only payed attention to Morty, not to the movie, he was honestly just bracing for impact.
The loud jumpscare pulling him out from his thoughts, this one was louder than the rest, he flinched ever so slightly as he felt Morty hug him tightly and whine, like a really scared puppy, he honestly couldn't help but feel tempted to comfort him, he still thought this whole thing was dumb, but he placed a soft hand in Morty's back and stroked it gently, trying to comfort him as best as he could
"Shh, quiet, idiot." Was the first thing he thought of saying, Morty's trembles slowing down significantly, the movie on TV now forgotten background noise, Rick's hand sliding to Morty's hair, passing his fingers gently through the chocolate curls, playing with his hair, his short nails scratching his scalp ever so slightly, a sweet gesture, one he knew he wouldn't repeat anytime soon, though in all honesty, he wanted to keep this moment for a little longer.
"Grandpa's here, you're fine." The words perhaps rougher than the last, the intent good enough for Morty to look up at him with teary eyes, the scare had really gotten to him, huh?, the sight hit something deep within his heart, he stayed quiet, he wanted to devour the sight, he wanted to commit Morty's face to memory, every small detail, every crease, every unshed tear, he was beautiful, wasn't he?, dumb kid.
The rose color of his cheeks gentle on his skin, his puppy eyes had a warmth that knew no equal, his thin lips slightly pouty, his cupid's bow laid in a perfect shape, he hated him for that, the way his loose curls would frame his face, he was beautiful, his breath quiet, his heart almost stopped, he wanted this moment to last forever, he wanted to remember this perfectly, he wanted this sight to be what he saw in his last moments before death.
"What is it, junebug?" His smile clear, a mix of concerned amusement, another loud sound played behind them, making Morty cower again, god, this was so dumb, Rick was starting to really hate whatever was happening here, he hated even more that he was entertaining it, that he didn't want it to end at all.
He hugged Morty and stared at the TV for a couple more minutes before falling asleep, his chin resting on Morty's head, his arms loosely wrapped around that little ball of warmth, he hated what happened today, but he knew that next time he gets drunk, he'll see Morty's face, and it'll look exactly like it had looked today.
He was sick.