
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5306222.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Rick_and_Morty
  Relationship:
      Rick_Sanchez/Morty_Smith
  Character:
      Rick_Sanchez, Morty_Smith
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-11-28 Updated: 2016-05-25 Chapters: 3/? Words: 1727
****** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Sin ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ******
by mortysmithh
Summary
     This is basically a place for me to upload drabbles
     Almost all of them are unedited and probably written on a crazed
     writing spree at 3 in the morning after I have consumed 4 or 8 cans
     of Monster
     Enjoy!!
     [The ratings will go anywhere from G to Explicit so tread
     cautiously!!]
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Stretches [G] *****
Rick never says it, not with his words, and he does his best to keep from
reacting physically. But the way Morty sprawls out, stretching as his body
shakes and the quietest of squeaks is pulled out of him in a choked-off little
growl makes him go weak in the heart with how fucking cute his grandson can be,
often without trying.
He's reminded of those gifs he sees while watching over Morty's shoulder,
claims he doesn't like that 'stupid bullshit website, Tumblr', but Morty's
turned around several times, he's caught Rick with the stupidest little grin on
his face, and he makes a mental note to make a sideblog just for kittens and
gifs of them stretching.
And one day, he crawls into Rick's lap, just lays across it as Rick huffs and
rolls his eyes, continues to work as Morty grins and paws at his thigh,
kneading at it. 
But being a little shit is hard work, and eventually he lays still for the next
couple of hours, simply enjoying the closeness. And then he's caught by a round
of hiccups so strong he nearly falls out of Rick's lap, cheeks tinged pink even
as he continues to jerk with hiccups, the deep, full-bodied kind that leave his
throat sore for a while after they end.
He gets cramped up, decides to stretch, and sees Rick's cheeks go pink. So he
makes a point of it to stretch as many body parts as he can without worsening
the cramps and kinks in his limbs, brushing across just underneath Rick's chin
with the tips of his fingers, and of course Rick grabs it, makes a point of
running his tongue across two of them then fully engulfing them into his mouth.
When he pulls away, Morty's the one with bright red cheeks, and of course Rick
gives Morty a shit-eating little grin as he casually wipes Morty's fingers off
on his shirt. "N-Now stop acting like a- a-a fucking cat, and let me work.
Jesus."
***** The Scent of Return [T] *****
Chapter Summary
     I don't know what the title is I'm tired and feeling bittersweet
     about RickMorty ;w;
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Alcohol. Cigarette smoke. Alien chemicals. The faintest hint of engine oil and
Old Spice cologne that he swears he never wears, yet the scent never leaves.
These are the smells of Rick Sanchez’s dirty, stained, once-white labcoat, and
these are the smells that comfort Morty (though just barely) through the long
years of Rick's absence.
He thinks he would've given up already, given up on ever seeing his
grandfather, his lover, his anchor, if not for the fading myriad of odours on
the coat the old man had left in his room.
Because Rick Sanchez doesn't let anybody into his room, not into his bedroom,
yet it's one of the most familiar rooms in the house to Morty. Because to Rick,
Morty isn't some annoying maid or whatever trying to get his dirty clothing out
of the whiskey-reeking room, isn't Beth trying to get him to come engage in
‘family activities’ with the others, isn't Jerry being an annoying little shit.
Morty is the one person he'd let past all of his boundaries. Morty is the one,
single creature in their entire universe that Rick had explained to, in
explicit detail, the story behind each and every one of his countless scars.
Battles, journeys, running away from his shithead, abusive alcoholic parents at
the age of 15, how he'd mistaken a Mantis Woman for a Tryxon Chick and paid a
dear price in the form of a chunk out of his arm.
Some were more elaborate than others, some memories sharper. Still some were
harsher, darker, made Rick's mouth curve downwards into a frown that couldn't
ever be deep enough to portray how fucked up it is that he even has those scars
to begin with.
And sometimes, if they're both silent, laying in bed and simply admiring each
other’s company…
Sometimes, Rick will explain to Morty just how much he loves him.
The flood of memories is strong. Not unwelcome (not entirely), but it makes
tears stream down his face all the same, and he has to try so hard not to think
of how much longer he'll have to wait before he can hold the Real Rick, His
Rick.How much longer it'll be before he can catch a whiff of stomach acid and
vomit and a little bit of Pine Sap gum, and how much longer until he can taste
the bitterness of said gum, and how much longer until he can pull away from a
sweet kiss to make fun of Rick for liking such an old people thing.
How much longer until he can stop crying himself to sleep at 3:26 in the
morning, in Rick's filthy bed?
And then, strong arms are wrapped around him and his entire body floods with a
sense of relief, of belonging. He doesn't have to look up to know that Rick's
back, doesn't have to think too hard to convince himself that this isn't yet
another desperation-induced hallucination.
Because there's a lot less alcohol and a lot more drool soaking into the back
of his hair, but that faint trace of Old Spice is still there, and underneath
that…
“R-Rick...you-”
“Sh-Shut up, Morty. I...I-I love you, alright? Th...th-thank you. F-For- for
waiting.”
He doesn't know how to feel, what to say, what to think.
And then, he takes a deep breath, sighs it out, flinches slightly at how Rick
tenses up (if the old fart thinks he's gonna reject him after so long, he's got
another thing coming), then he giggles softly.
Only somewhat brokenly, like he'd been shattering over and over again for so
long, but he's finally staring to heal.
“I-I-I...I love y-you, love you too, Rick. I-I always have, I-I do right
now...a-and, and I always will.”
Chapter End Notes
     Tumblr's mortysmithh, send me writing prompts/ideas my dudes!! <33
***** Soft Hands [T] *****
Chapter Summary
     Rick and Morty hold hands and they're really gay okay
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The first time they hold hands, Morty doesn’t really think about it. Sure, he’s
considered doing it hundreds, perhaps even thousands of times, but he’s never
dared to actually act upon his desires. He knows Rick isn’t one for ‘all that
sappy shit’, it isn’t what he does, and he’s come to accept it well enough. He
knows the man isn’t good with expressing his emotions; hell, it took pinning
him up against the side of the still-hot spaceship to make him admit his
feelings for Morty, and that ended in Morty getting fucked in the ship hard
enough that he couldn’t walk right for the next few weeks.
Of course he didn’t mind at all; he’d loved every second of it, and he’d
realized just how badly he’d wanted to be with Rick.
But now, their fingers interlaced, he can’t think of a single thing he likes
more.
Rick had been taken completely by surprise, obviously, his cheeks tinging a
light pink as he stammers out in a voice that’s gruff but filled with
underlying amused affection, “A-And just, what- wh-what the fEURGHck do you
think  you’re  doing, Morty?”
He blushes, staring down at the floor of the garage to distract himself from
Rick, but it’s difficult to hide his emotions when he’s sitting in the lap of
his grandfather, his back comfortably resting against the older’s chest. “U-Uh-
um...n-nothing…? I-I, I mean, um...h-hold- holding your hand...why? Sh-Should I
stop? I-I’m sorry, I should’ve asked, i-it was stupid of m-”
And then Rick’s grabbed him by the hips, ripped their hands apart, and suddenly
he’s being kissed hard enough that he swears sparks are flying and pure love is
swelling his heart until he feels like it’s about to explode. When they break
apart, Rick gives him a shit-eating grin, pulling Morty’s head down so that he
can press a sweet kiss to the teen’s forehead.
“Hey, hey, c-calm down, I never said you should  stop , I-I just- I was just
makin’ sure you knew what you were doing,” he says, smiling and carefully
lacing their fingers together. “L-Like this, right?”
And now that his embarrassment and anxiety have melted away under Rick’s warm,
loving gaze, all he can focus on are how soft Rick’s hands are. The other’s
fingertips are calloused, and he can feel healed-over blisters in several
areas, but his palms, and the backs of his hands are so soft, so cool. The
wrinkled skin gives just enough that he can gently squeeze at Rick’s hand,
really feel the love behind Rick’s hands, Rick’s grip,  Rick .
A soft chuckle comes from Rick as he gazes down at Morty, his eyes- no, his
very face filled with love and adoration for his Morty. The one that’d broken
through his hard, uncaring outer shell, and the one that drives him lovestruck-
crazy in every sense of the word.
“Wh-What, Rick? I-I said- I-I- what is it, d-do I have something on my face?”
Morty’s anxious tones break through his shell, and he laughs again, shaking his
head and leaning down to kiss his grandson so lovingly that it feels almost
foreign; several decades of loveless fucks in the backs of dark, unlit alleys,
of completely romance-less screws in bar bathrooms, countless banging buddies
with no semblance of romantic affection during Flesh Curtains afterparties tend
to do that to a man. “No, babe, o-of- of course not. I’m just...I-I’m just- I
guess I’m just, admiring how cute you look. Y-You really like this uh, th-this
whole hand-holding thing, huh? I’d figure as much, y-you sappy lil’ peanut,” he
says with an affectionate kiss to the tip of Morty’s nose.
He blushes bright red, the sight thankfully almost not visible in the dim,
shitty lighting of the garage, but Rick catches it all the same, if the gruff
chuckle is anything to go by. “I-I’m- I’m not  cute , Rick!” He pauses for a
moment, leaning up to kiss the corner of Rick’s lips. “B-But, you, uh- y-you’re
not that- y-you’re pretty cute, too, y’know that?” He smiles, letting his eyes
slip shut as he rests his cheek on Rick’s chest and letting out a content
little sigh. “I-I love you, Rick...a-always have, always will,” he murmurs.
Rick freezes for a moment, then he lets out a quiet hum of happiness, wrapping
his free arm around Morty’s back and squeezing the kid’s hand tight. “And- and
I love you too, Morty...always have, a-and I most certainly always will,” he
whispers back, his voice still rough but soft with love.
Chapter End Notes
     My Tumblr's mortysmithh, send me fic/sin ideas!!
End Notes
     Tumblr's mortysmithh, send me writing prompts/ideas!!
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