Work Text:
Morty hadn't planned to kiss Rick. The thought never crossed his mind— until it did.
He had been sitting on the floor of the garage, hunched over his homework. That was something he did often now, his mom growing insistent that Morty actually participate in school enough to graduate on time down the line. When a particular math problem made Morty's brows furrow, he looked up, ready to pester his grandpa into helping him. Rick usually complied, though not without much complaint and the occasional rant about the public school system. This time, however, Rick was slumped over his workbench, having fallen asleep while working out some of his own much more complex equations for something he'd likely tell Morty all about when he got it figured out.
A strange warmth had blossomed in Morty's chest in that moment. He tucked the worksheet under his arm and stood, walking over to where his grandpa was ever so slightly snoring. Rick looked oddly peaceful, face lax and mouth slightly agape. Without thinking, Morty had placed a quick peck on the older man's head before retreating to his own room for the night. It was getting late.
It wasn't until his head hit the pillow that it dawned on him what he'd done. It wasn't like it was anything weird in any other context, but it wasn't the norm for the two of them. A lot of weird things were normal for Rick and Morty, things that would raise alarm bells for most people, but didn't faze the Smith family. That was the very reason the otherwise innocent expression of affection was decidedly unusual. If Morty wasn't Morty and Rick wasn't Rick, it would have been fine.
Morty wanted to do it again. The seed of his own thoughtless action had taken root deep in his mind. He couldn't not do it again. There was little more he could think of now other than kissing Rick.
Rick had gotten drunk and passed out while watching interdimensional cable. Morty had been waiting for this moment. He glanced around to ensure they were still alone, cognizant of the fact that the thoughts brewing in his little mind were wrong, and his intentions were not pure. Not that he felt particularly bad about it, just oh-so nervous as he was with most things. If he remembered correctly, his parents were on one of their rare dates, leaving Summer as the only potential threat. It was worth the risk.
Morty shifted on the couch, shuffling on his knees until he was close enough to smell the booze on Rick. It made his heart stutter. Before he could second-guess himself, Morty leaned up and planted a quick kiss on the side of his grandpa's temple. Rick didn't stir, not even unconsciously reacting to the external stimuli. That emboldened Morty enough to peck his cheek next. Still no reaction. Morty was feeling giddy now, stomach aflutter with butterflies.
It was always a difficult decision for Morty, choosing between leaving well enough alone or pushing his luck. He lifted a small hand to Rick's face, gently turning his head to face him. His eyes honed in on lips that glistened with drool, making Morty's own mouth water.
"Ew, stop trying to take advantage of Grandpa Rick in the living room."
Morty practically lept out of his skin, falling off the couch in his attempt to scramble away from Rick. At the same time, he whipped his head around to see Summer in the doorway. She had a hand on her hip and a brow raised, but looked more bored than scandalised. Morty's face flushed crimson.
"I-I-It's not— I wasn't— !" The boy stammered, causing his sister to snort.
Summer was already on her way to the kitchen, drawling "Oh, I'm suuure," sarcastically over her shoulder before she was gone.
Morty buried his face in his hands with an embarrassed groan. At the sound of a groggy sigh, Morty peered up through his fingers as Rick stretched out his arms with a yawn. The older man glanced down and paused.
"Morty, what the- why the hell are you on the floor?"
The day's adventure had been long and tiring to say the least. What was supposed to be a simple exchange turned into sprinting down winding alleyways while narrowly avoiding gunfire. Not one to be crossed, they weren't back on the ship until Rick had gotten what he came for and then some for the trouble. At least neither of them was terribly injured this time around, but now Morty could barely keep his eyes open.
The stars beyond blurred and then faded as the boy nodded off in the passenger seat, head lulling to the side with a thunk as it bonked against the window.
"Hrmmm…" Morty hummed in his sleep as something brushed the top of his head. His face twitched when something nudged his cheek, brows furrowing with a disturbed huff. At the feeling of something wet on his neck, Morty finally jolted awake with a surprised gasp.
He instinctively lifted a hand to his neck, but his wrist was caught mid-motion. He noticed then the wet sensation hadn't ceased, and the hand around his wrist was Rick's. It took another moment for his brain to finally catch up. Rick was leaning over, space cruiser apparently on autopilot, kissing down Morty's neck. He practically short-circuited
"R-Rick?" Morty's voice trembled, coming out higher-pitched than intended.
Rick smirked, pressing one last kiss to his grandson's pulse point before pulling back and releasing his wrist. Morty didn't move an inch, frozen. That made Rick chuckle as he turned back to the steering wheel.
"What? I'm not allowed to return the favor?" His tone, Morty thought, was much too casual for the situation. "Doesn't seem very fair, Morty."
Morty shrank in his seat with a whine as he realised. "How do you—"
"You think someone with as many enemies as me is going to be a heavy sleeper? You- You could have just asked." Rick looked extremely pleased with himself.
Morty looked like he wished he'd been shot back on that planet.