
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4746563.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith
  Additional Tags:
      Hair-pulling, Beards_(Facial_Hair), Oral_Sex, Mutual_Masturbation,
      Television_Watching, Kissing, neck_biting
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-09-07 Words: 1253
****** Midnight Heat ******
by mariachiMushroom
Summary
     Morty can't sleep because the house is too hot. Rick helps with that.
Notes
     Happy birthday, Belphie!
See the end of the work for more notes
It was 1:23 AM, and Morty was awake. Not because his mad scientist grandpa had
dragged him off to go to some far-off galaxy, not because his subconscious mind
had marched a parade of nightmares through his dreams, not even because his
mind was unraveling with the need to touch Jessica's breasts. No, it was just
too damn hot to sleep.
Morty tossed fitfully on his bed, searching for a cool spot, but every surface
had already been warmed by his body heat. His sheets had become towels, soaking
up the salty sweat dripping from his body. His shirt clung damply to his body.
Well, to hell with trying to sleep in this sauna. Morty sat up and pulled his
shirt off, which barely made a difference in the stuffy air. He left his room
and padded down the stairs, with vague plans of going to the fridge and rubbing
himself down with ice. But a familiar florescent glow from the TV room
attracted Morty's attention, moth-like.
It was Rick, watching some mindless late-night talkshow. The alien hosts were
debating whether the costars of some big budget action film were secretly
dating, based on the damning evidence of a photo of them loitering in the same
general vicinity. Because of the heat, Rick, too, had stripped down to his
boxers, and was absentmindedly rolling a bottle of beer on his stomach.
By way of saying hi, Morty plopped his chin on Rick's head.
“Morty, I thought you were in bed.”
“Couldn't sleep. My room's too hot.”
“Well, good job attaching yourself to the hottest—urrp—thing in the room.” Rick
tilted his head back to look at Morty through his monobrow. “Mmph, your
stubble's scratching my bald spot.”
“Oh, uh, sorry, about that, Rick.” Morty jerked his head up.
“Weeellllll, I didn't say I didn't like it.”
“Oh.” Morty slowly lowered himself back down, rolling his chin back and forth
across Rick's bare scalp like he was a lawn airator. Rick sighed, and closed
his eyes.
“What, what are you going for, anyway, the 'unemployed Jerry' look?”
“Hey, i-it's not like I shave before going to bed.” In retaliation, Morty raked
his stubble across Rick's scalp.
“You little smart-ass.” Rick pulled his head out from under Morty's and hooked
an arm around Morty's neck. “Two can play at that game,” he said as he scraped
his stubbly chin on Morty's cheeks.
“H-hey, that tickles, stop that—oof!” Morty lost his balance and tipped
forwards. His face smacked into the wedge of couch cushion between Rick's legs.
“Ow!” said Morty, more from annoyance than pain. Rick laughed. In a huff, Morty
scrambled the rest of his body over the back of the couch, plopping onto his
belly with a smack. The cool leather surface provided a moment of relief on his
overheated belly. With his neck on Rick's leg, Morty turned his face towards
the TV, which was now playing a comedy skit featuring hilarious
miscommunications between an interspecies couple. Morty watched one alien
present its culture's sacred ritual engagement stick, only to have the other
alien use it as a back scratcher.
As the laugh-track came on, Morty felt fingers on his scalp. Rick was combing
through his hair, absentmindedly straightening the curls and then letting them
spring back. Morty was going to have the worst case of bed-head in the morning,
but instead of pulling away, Morty scooted closer towards Rick's crotch. This
close, he could smell Rick's junk through his boxers, a funky maleness that was
somehow appealing.
“You-you're acting like a fucking cat, Morty, stop being such a pussy.”
“Meow.” Morty nuzzled into Rick's crotch, mouthing his hardening dick through
the fabric. Rick wound a clump of hair around his fingers and pulled, not hard,
just enough to send a message. Morty moaned. Rick's dick twitched.
Enough teasing. Morty pulled down Rick's boxers and swallowed the half-hard
length until his lips touched the patch of teal-blue pubic hair. Morty could
feel Rick expand in his mouth, until the tip was hitting the back of his
throat. While he tried to work the head deeper in his throat without choking,
Rick pet his head, muttering encouragements.
“Oh, yeah, fuck, Morty, you cockhungry slut, I can feel you drooling down to my
fucking balls. C'mon, be a good boy, you can take it—” Rick cut off when Morty
finally managed to swallow the tip. He stayed down as long as he could, while
Rick rocked up, fucking his throat, until a particularly strong thrust caused
him to gag. Morty pulled away, gasping for air, tears collecting at the corner
of his eyes. Using his hair as a grip, Rick tipped Morty's face up and met him
half-way with his lips.
They kissed, all teeth and aggression. When they broke apart, Morty's head was
spinning with heat and lust. He sat up, and pressed his body flush against
Rick's, chest to sweaty chest. They kissed again, this time gentler, swirling
tongues, animal noises in the back of the throat. Morty ground his crotch
against Rick's and their sweat-sealed bodies slid against each other, making a
loud unsticking noise like unrolling packing tape.
“Uhrg, it's too hot for this,” said Morty. He swung off of Rick's lap to sit
slouched to his left.
“Is that a challenge, Morty? Sounds like a challenge to me.” Rick grabbed a
handful of Morty's hair and pulled his head to the side, exposing neck. He ran
a tongue from clavicle to ear, leaving a cooling trail of evaporating saliva. A
shiver went down Morty's spine and straight to his dick.
Not to be outdone, Morty grasped Rick's cock, pumping the loose skin up and
down the hard core. Rick groaned, and started nipping at Morty's neck. His hand
found his way to Morty's dick, matching pace with Morty's sure strokes. Each
reciprocated in a way they had learned through experience: Morty digging his
fingernails slightly into Rick's shaft, Rick flicking his wrist a little extra
to push the skin over the rim of Morty's head.
Their lips met again, moans swallowed by each other's mouths. Morty stroked
faster and faster as he felt a coiled heat building up in his balls.
“Rick, Rick, I'm gonna come, fuck, I'm coming--” Morty hunched forward as his
body contracted, propelling strings of semen into Rick's waiting palm. Milking
each wave of pleasure out of Morty's dick, Rick continued squeezing until the
last drop of cloudy liquid dribbled out of Morty's tip. Once bliss faded into
afterglow, Morty flopped back. His body was melting into the couch, fusing into
one putty-like mass.
Rick still hadn't finished. Morty continued stroking Rick's dick lazily until
Rick grabbed his wrist and set his hand aside. Morty slumped his head against
Rick's shoulder while Rick's hand pistoned around his cock, using Morty's jizz
as lube. His arm sped up until it was a blur, and then Rick was coming, coming,
mixing his jizz with Morty's into a slick froth.
Rick collapsed against the back of the couch, joining Morty in post-coital
haze. He licked their mingled essence off his hand. Morty wrinkled his nose.
“Gross. And you called me cock-hungry.”
“Shutup, Morty.” Rick wiped his dirty hand on Morty's cheek.
“Uhrg.” Too wrung-out to make a fuss, Morty relaxed against Rick's side. Rick
wrapped an arm around the back of his neck. Morty closed his eyes and fell
asleep to fingers in his hair and a talk show host cooing over the world's
cutest space-kitten.
 
End Notes
     Fun fact: I acted out the whole "Rick pulls Morty over the back of
     the couch and Morty ends up between Rick's legs" bit with a friend to
     make sure it was plausible.
     Join me at dick-and-horny.tumblr.com for more Rick/Morty shenanigans!
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