Title: It's Hard To Say
Author: Daisy
Fandom: Rick And Morty
Setting: Rick's Garage
Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Characters: Rick Sanchez, Morty Smith, Mr. Jellybean
Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 758
Type of Work: One-Shot, Part of the Weekly Writing Prompts
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Incest, Grandfather/Grandson Incest, Fluff, Nightmares, Rape Mention, Comfort
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Rick cares more than he lets on.
AN: So, here's another piece for the Fanfiction-Friends' Weekly Writing Prompts. This week's prompt was Nurture. I had some fun with this fic, actually. I hope you guys enjoy!
It's Hard To Say ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Rick Sanchez was not the most nurturing person in the world.
In fact, he was cold, crass, confusing, an alcoholic, and a man dedicated to… Something. Science, mostly, but even that could fall victim to his own self loathing. Mostly, he was dedicated to crawling into a bottle and passing out in his grandson's bed at four AM.
But, when it was really needed, he could at least be oddly affectionate.
Morty remembered the taste of candy, the feeling of too-strong hands gripping and spreading him open despite himself, and dried tears on his cheeks. He remembered pain, limping, tears down his cheeks. And he remembered Rick, standing like a beacon of safety.
When his eyes opened, he wasn't in his bedroom. The garage, in its musty, oily glory greeted him, and the back of Rick's head. He was grumbling, working on something that was obviously giving him a hard time.
Sitting up, Morty realized he was in Rick's cot of a bed, and it dawned on him that Rick must have drug it from his room so that his wildly thrashing grandson could be close. When he didn't hear the whimpering, the crying, the springs of the cot wailing in protest, Rick turned to look at his grandson.
"Hey, sleepyhead." Rising from his seat, he pushed his chair back and came over, bending down to sit beside the scared boy. One of Rick's spidery hands pushed into his sweat-soaked hair, and he pressed into the touch like a cat, "You were sleeping awfully loud."
"...I w-was having a n-nightmare." Morty croaked, ashamed of how his voice cracked. Rick, for once, didn't tease him, but gathered his grandson into his arms and tugged him into his lap like he weighed nothing.
"I know you were, bug." Rick muttered softly into the other's hair, kissing his forehead lightly and petting down his neck a little. It was like the only way he knew how to comfort someone was by physical contact. Still, Morty was glad for it, turning his wet face into the other's chest and sobbing loudly, unashamed. Well, he was ashamed, but he didn't really care right now. Snot and drool and tears dripped down his face, smearing over his grandfather's shirt and coat, and he hardly cared. "You were loud… I could hear you all the way down here."
Wiping at the other's face with his own shirt, his lab coat being shrugged off at the same time, he sighed a little as Morty tried to stammer an apology. It wasn't like the boy was this fucked up because he went to school on time and stayed there all the time. If it weren't for him, this wouldn't be such a problem. Cooing softly as he lovingly kissed the other's sweaty forehead, he shook his head.
"I'm sorry, M-Morty. Don't you worry, Morty, I'll keep you safe." Rick muttered, kissing his head again. For a long moment, Morty was still in his arms, the crying subsided and his breathing so minute Rick wasn't sure it was there. Then, with a sudden jerk, their lips met and Rick's blue eyes popped open wide.
When Morty pulled away, his cheeks were red and he stood up, stammering as he tried to speak.
"Shu-Shut- Shut up, Morty." Rick growled, rising and bending to kiss his grandson once more, nuzzling their noses together shortly after. "Don't force shit with me. Don't think you have to do this." It was a rare moment of quiet compassion from Rick, and Morty clung to it like it was his last lifeline.
"I… I want to, Rick." Morty's voice was small, barely a whisper between them, and he chased the elder's lips, giving him a soft peck. "I…" It seemed, however, that he wasn't able to be bold for any longer. "I want to."
Rick smiled slightly, an odd quirk of his lips, before he nodded, and slowly moved to lay down. Pulling his grandson down with him, he curled the boy into his chest, one leg hooked up over his hip. Thin fingers pet through his soft curls and the elder man sighed.
"Tomorrow. You need to sleep, tonight." He whispered, "I'll stay here. Promise." They both knew Rick's promises were usually fragile and barely there, but this one felt real.
"O-okay." Morty muttered back, sighing softly as he marinated in the other's scent. It didn't take long before he was asleep, and Rick was in for a long night of laying there with an arm half asleep.
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