Morty drifted as if on a cloud for the next few days. He hardly even remembered shuffling upstairs, showering, and falling into his bed. He did remember standing in front of the bathroom mirror, turning his face this way and that to observe the blooming purple discolouration spreading slowly across his throat and face. The rough cut on his forehead had stopped bleeding, looking small and neat, innocent of the mess that has ruined his shirt and stained the garage floor. His neck was by far the most startling, bruises running to blackish purple in a thick line around his throat, bloody red dots outlining the metal buckle of Rick's belt where it had cut into him. He had shivered at the thought of it and hopped quickly into the steaming water.
When he awoke the next day, however, mind racing with excuses and how he might avoid his parents and Summer, a quick glance in the mirror had revealed an unblemished expanse of creamy white skin, his neck completely devoid of any marking. The cut on his forehead was also gone, and with a slow surprise he realized that movement had caused him no pain, where as every step last night had been tentative and exhausting. His hand felt uncertainly at his bottom, but no reaction came. Morty thought with some annoyance that he shouldn't be so surprised, remembering that Rick had injected him last night at the end of it all, For healing, he'd said. Even with his arrogance and threats last night, Morty absoultly preferred his Mom and Dad to know nothing of what went on between him and his grandpa. They barely approved of the two's adventures as it was, and they didn't even know the half of those. But, he thought anxiously, Rick's rebuttal to his threat last night smacked of something like truth, and Morty had no plans whatsoever to reveal these events to his mother. If his mother couldn't be trusted to handle it, Jerry was completely out of the question.
Morty got dressed, and just as he was opening the door to his room, he heard the stomping of feet and the swishing of fabric that meant Rick was coming quickly up the stairs. Morty stood straighter, almost at attention, pausing in the doorway as Rick came down the hall, wondering if he would be needed for something. "Morty," Rick burped and cleared his throat before continuing, "You're finally up." He grabbed the boy roughly by the elbow, "C'mon, w-we're late." His other hand fished inside his coat for the portal gun, eyes fixed on Morty as he fired it, an ambient green light filling the dim hallway. Rick seemed to be inspecting Morty, roaming over his face and body- he even turned Morty around with his grip on the boy's elbow. "Worked good." he grunted, half to himself. Rick seemed lost in thought for a moment before he came back to himself, remembering whatever errand he was about to take Morty on. "Let's go." he said, and pulled Morty through the portal. Morty was limp and pliant for the entire inspection, still feeling cloudy and distant, although there was still a familiar stab of embarassment as Rick had looked him over, reminding him of what had happened.
The pair spilled in through a portal to the garage some time later, Rick pulling a stumbling Morty behind him just as they'd left. Now, however, the boy's left sleeve was on fire, and Rick noticed it with an impatient tsk, beating at the flame with the cuff of his own fire-resistant lab coat. Morty had that deer-in-the-headlights look on his face, Rick noticed, as the flames finally went out, but when their eyes met Morty's mouth twitched up at the corners into an awkward smile. He knew that if the monster's flame had hit Rick instead, the materials they'd gone to collect would've been destroyed. Rick scowled at the boy before he could even think about it, breaking eye contact as Morty's face fell and walking over to his desk to set down the flask of bright green liquid they'd gone to such lengths to obtain.
Morty was standing awkwardly behind Rick, one arm grasping the other as he slouched uncomfortably towards the exit. The silence hung thickly, and Morty turned to sneak away without speaking when Rick said, "Don't." in his rough voice. Morty froze, turning back to look hesitantly. Rick had his back towards him, staring blankly at the glowing flask. "D-Don't go anywhere." Rick seemed to recover his usual demanding demeanour, "I need you to pass me things while I'm working." He pulled the chair over and began taking things out of drawers and cupboards and putting them in a pile. Morty stood in place for a minute, unsure, but eventually padded over to stand at his grandpa's side, watching him work without comprehending, but dutifully passing him various tools from around the garage when he knew what they were, Rick barking out a barely comprehensible explanation when he didn't.
Rick steadily drained his flask when he thought Morty wasn't looking, and then later even when he was, in addition to having Morty regularly fetch cans of beer from the fridge. It didn't seem to affect his work at all, only a slight languid quality to his movements gave away his increasing intoxication. It was nearly dawn when Rick's inebriation hit critical mass and he clumsily dropped a screwdriver to the floor, it clattered and rolled beneath the workbench, coming to a stop in the far dusty reaches. "Get that for me, Morty," Rick's words had a heaviness to them, bordering on a slur, "Then we're done for tonight." He leaned back in the chair, head tilting, before the spins corrected him and he sat back upright.
Morty had crawled under the table, his flat little boy bottom waving in the air as he searched among the other fallen items for the screwdriver. Rick watched him, remembering last night, his eyes flicking unconsciously to the little dark spot on the floor where Morty had bled. He ground his teeth back and forth, trying to maintain some level of composure, at the same time as his hand moved, seemingly of its own accord, to press roughly into his rapidly hardening cock. Morty must've noticed some change in Rick's breathing, because he turned to peer back at Rick over his shoulder, still on hands and knees beneath the table. His eyes widened and mouth opened to a little "o" when he saw Rick groping himself so openly, and his face flushed dark red while he quickly scrambled backwards and out of the tiny space. The frantic movement only reminded Rick of Morty's weak struggles, and his cock throbbed excitedly.
Morty was fidgeting now, looking longingly at the garage door, dreaming of escape. Rick's eyes were heavy lidded, alcohol working strongly on him despite his Herculean tolerance. He was staring directly at Morty, a stark contrast to his usual avoidance of even looking at the boy. Morty watched him stroke himself through his pants lazily, without a hint of modesty. With his free hand, Rick motioned for the boy to come closer, a friendly, childish gesture, but the look on Rick's face wasn't entirely friendly. Morty gulped visibly, staring hard at the floor after one accidental glance into Rick's face. It was true, he was terrified, but he could also feel the blood rushing to his groin, as much as to his cheeks. He twisted the edge of his shirt nervously, trying to cover himself, when all he was really doing was drawing Rick's attention to it. The older man was smirking even as Morty sidled closer, heart thudding.
Rick's hand darted out as Morty got closer, closing around the boy's thin wrist like a chain, reeling him the rest of the way. Morty resisted only slightly. When they were close, Rick drinking in the sight of Morty's blush, his stubborn refusal to look at Rick's face, the older man reached under his work table to flip a newly-installed switch, and Morty heard a shunk from the garage door as some sort of locking mechanism was activated. Rick grinned and grabbed Morty's hair, sliding his hand along the boy's jaw and gripping the side of his skull. Morty gasped a little at the pain, as Rick pulled him in close, biting periodically down Morty's neck, tasting him. Morty gasped at each bite, crying out in earnest as Rick bared his shoulder and bit down hard.
Rick buried his teeth deep for a long moment, feeling the hunger flow out through his bite in some perverse reversal of consumption. Then, he drew back, surveying the red impression of his teeth in a neat little mark on Morty's shoulder. Satisfaction washed over him in small waves, promising more, but he closed his eyes and smiled, savouring the little peace. When he opened them again, Morty had pulled away, inching instinctively away from Rick's grasp. The old man moved forwards lightning quick and grabbed Morty, one arm around his middle and the other around his neck once more, but loosely, not choking. Morty reacted instinctively, hands flying up to get in between Rick's arm and his own throat. His skinny legs kicked out ineffectually as Rick lifted Morty into his lap, seeming weightless, enveloping him like spider's prey.
Rick removed the arm around Morty's neck, and even though he had not squeezed, the gesture made Morty relax instantly, some tension draining out of him. Then, he felt Rick's hand on him, fishing down his already opened jeans, gasping as Rick's icy fingers slid around his painfully hard cock, drawing him out and releasing him to the air. It relieved some pressure, and Morty sighed as Rick's hand moved slowly up and down the length of him, squeezing gently at the base, thumb gently smearing precum around the sensitive head. Morty shivered with the sensation of it, leaning back comfortably against Rick, his grandpa cradling his entire form effortlessly.
The fabric of Morty's jeans was cutting painfully into his legs where it bunched up, so he raised himself, leaning back into Rick, sliding his pants down to catch around his ankles. Rick growled at the sight of it, overcome, and bit Morty again high on the neck, hard enough for the boy to cry out. He could feel Rick's thick cock pressing into him through his jeans, and wiggled back against it suggestively. Looking back, he could see through the corner of one eye that Rick's eyes were closed, a look of fierce concentration on his face as Morty wiggled purposefully atop him. His grip on Morty's cock increased suddenly, a nearly painful squeeze that made Morty freeze in place, feeling vulnerable.
Rick released him unexpectedly and dug around in an inner pocket, smiling to himself as he drew forth a small black toy, curved at tapered at the end so it wouldn't get lost in any orifices. Rick lifted it up so Morty could see it, turning it this way and that in his slender fingers. Morty recognized it immediately as something meant to go inside him, and his cock pulsed, mouth parting slightly as his breathing quickened. Now that the boy was relaxed and still, Rick released his grip around Morty's middle and grasped his cock again, slowly stroking it with nearly feverish hands. Quickly and discreetly, he pressed the toy against Morty's entrance, already more pliable after being broken in and healed.
Morty tensed a little at the soft pressure on his entrance, eyebrows knitting together as Rick increased the pace of his stroke. Without warning, Rick bit into Morty's neck again as he slipped the toy inside, the thickness of it sending a jolt of pain through Morty that was at once overpowered by the pain of Rick's bite. He let out a cry that was more a moan and Rick grinned, teeth still clamped down, at the sweet sound of it. No one in the house would hear a thing as long as his new invention was activated. He let his grandson adjust to the feel of the toy, other hand still working at Morty's cock.
"Yeah, you like that?" Rick spoke in Morty's ear, startling him. Like this, with Rick behind him, Morty could almost forget that it was his grandpa doing these things to him. His hands flew up to cover his blushing face, even though Rick couldn't see it. "Y-yeah..." Rick grunted as he thrust up against Morty a little, pressing the toy even deeper into the boy. Morty shivered a little as he felt it touch that spot inside him, the toy was much smaller than Rick's cock, not painful at all, and he could feel his orgasm building, tightening inside of him. "T-Tell me how much you like it." Rick growled from behind him, breaking his thoughts again. "Tell me." he insisted.
"U-U-Um..." Morty stammered, mind going completely blank as his heart leapt into his throat. Without waiting for a reply, Rick pressed something on the base of the toy, and it came to life, vibrating loudly as waves of pleasure flowed across Morty, electric and intense. It shook against that place inside him, and he felt his skin growing hot, especially his face, as he began making lewd little noises, moaning over and over in a rhythm. He felt his orgasm like a bowstring so tight it was ready to snap. Morty watched down the length of his own body as Rick's hand pumped him, skillfully, knowing exactly what to do. His revulsion, his shame, in watching his grandpa's hand on him mixed in, delaying the finale but prolonging the build up.
Then, just as suddenly, Rick switched the toy off. It hung heavy inside him, his body completely adjusted to the object, feeling curiously numb after the rough vibration. Rick released his cock too, it stood erect in the cold air, begging to be touched. Morty almost mewled, arms reaching out to grab himself, to catch the massive release that had been so near, but Rick's arm slid over him like iron, pinning his arms to either side as he bucked in frustration.
"Tell me." came Rick's low voice. "Tell me how much you like it."
Morty was silent for just a moment before he began to whisper fervently, like a prayer. "Please Rick, please. Please. I like it, please..." Over and over again, until Rick switched the toy back on, hand barely sliding over the boy's cock before he was bucking, cumming, the hot jet of it flying thickly onto the table in front of them, and Rick just holding Morty tight against him, controlling the boy's spasms until they began to fade, and then die away completely. Morty lay limply against Rick then, utterly spent, panting heavily.
They breathed together, in sync, for a long while, until Morty began to stir in Rick's arms. He turned, and Rick let him, to face Rick. He couldn't make eye contact, too nervous, but he darted little exploratory glances into Rick's eyes, then away again, until he noticed a little dot of cum on Rick's cheek. Morty blushed at his own idea, but pressed onward, leaning his face forward as Rick looked a little startled, pink tongue darting out to lick away the bit of cum he had put there. Rick understood after a moment, smiling a little even as he worked to control the emotion, stuffing it down. He pressed his forehead against his grandson's, allowing himself one last surge of emotion, before he gently removed the toy and stood.
Rick didn't move after that, standing in place after tucking the toy away, as Morty pulled up his pants and found a rag to clean up with. When the cleaning was done, Morty turned back to Rick with a smile. Rick was still standing there, one hand pressing into his temple. "Fuck..." he whispered, strongly and with feeling, and began searching around in drawers, the search growing more urgent as Rick trembled and whispered "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." under his breath. He eventually found a flask of some sort, it looked just like Rick's usual one but was coloured a dark purple all over. Rick unscrewed it and took a swig, an odd bitter lemony odour filling the room as soon as the cap came off. When the flask came back down, Rick teetered so much Morty thought he might fall over, but he didn't. Hands shaking, he pulled a bag out of the same drawer, poured some iridescent blue powder out onto a mirror he'd found, and began arranging it into lines with a bit of metal. He was still swearing to himself as he finished, setting the metal to one side and pressing both hands into his head with visible force.
"R-Rick?" Morty asked timidly from behind, and Rick jumped, eyes wild, looking back at Morty where he stood with the rag. "A-A-Are you o-"
"Fuck off Morty, you little shit." Rick slurred heavily, waving an arm at the boy as he turned back to the table. He flipped the switch underneath the table, unlocking the door to the house, still mumbling out half cooked insults and obscenities. Morty took two steps backwards, then fled, the harsh sound of Rick snorting lines chasing him from the room.
