Work Text:
1/5
It'd only been a week since the first time Rick's tongue had pressed into the needy mouth of his grandson. It was a surprisingly easy decision when it finally came down to it. Sure, Rick could drag his feet and wallow in the implications of sucking and fucking his underage grandson, but since when did human morality dictate Rick Sanchez's actions? He did what he wanted, even if what he wanted was his daughter's teenage son. They both knew what they were doing was objectively wrong; it was just a matter of caring.
Morty had been more than a little uncertain when Rick told him not to worry too much about playing innocent. Rick had smirked, pulling Morty close and telling him to follow his lead in the weeks that followed the culmination of months of less-than-appropriate lingering gazes and unspoken need. Morty was as anxious as could be, dreading the possibility of being forcefully separated from his grandpa, but he trusted Rick's judgment on this one. Just had to act natural and not overthink, apparently.
The Smith family gathered around the dining table in time for dinner. Summer focused intently on her phone as Beth and Jerry bickered while finishing setting the table. Beth had sought to cook a good, proper meal for dinner tonight in hopes of promoting some much-needed family bonding over sated stomachs. By the time the couple had dropped the pointless disagreement, Jerry's metaphorical tail tucked submissively, everyone was seated with plates full of food—everyone except Rick. Morty couldn't help but glance at the garage door every few moments.
"Oh, that's just like Rick, isn't it?" Jerry started, ignoring (or stupidly missing) Beth's stern look, "Late to dinner after how hard you-"
"Okay, well, you were here but too busy tapping on that iPad to help with dinner, so I don't want to hear it, Jerry." Beth snapped back in defense of her absent father.
Jerry looked scandalised, but before the bickering could pick back up, the garage door flung open and Rick strode into the room.
"Suck my nuURPts, Jerry." The older man said in lieu of a greeting.
Morty perked up less than subtly before forcing a look of indifference that was undercut by the blush dusting his cheeks. No one noticed. No one but Rick, that is, whose expression took on a sharper quality as his eyes honed in on his boy. Morty stiffened for just a moment when fingers suddenly threaded through his hair as Rick rounded the table. The older man's hand massaged more than ruffled Morty's scalp as he took his designated seat beside the flustered teen. Rick rolled his eyes at how high-strung Morty was over this; so much for playing it casual.
Beth's eyes tracked the innocuous touch. It wasn't inherently unusual, but her son had become notably… red. Rick's voice nipped the thought in the bud, taking on a syrupy sweet quality as he addressed his daughter. "Beth, sweetie, dinner looks amazing. You- you've really outdone yourself tonight."
Beth melted like butter at her father's praise. "Aww, Dad," she cooed with a warm smile. Jerry rolled his eyes.
"How about- how about I take the dishes tonight, huh? It's the least I could do." No one paid any mind to Rick's hand moving from Morty's hair to his lap as he spoke. Beth was too busy preening, and Jerry, with a grumble, was shoving a biteful of mashed potatoes into his mouth indignantly.
Morty could do little to suppress the shiver that ran up his spine as his grandpa's fingers brushed up his inner thigh unbeknownst to the rest of the table. He pressed his knees together and stole a quick glance at Rick, who had much less trouble maintaining his confidence. This little plan seemed outlandish at first, but looking at him now made Morty realise it might actually work. You wouldn't rather spend the rest of your life sneaking around, would you, Morty? Rick had asked him. Morty had hung onto the rest of your life part more than anything at the time.
Summer's tip-tapping on her phone had faltered as she peered at her family over the screen. Her eyes flicked between everyone before settling on Rick and Morty across from her. The latter was still blushing at his dinner, and Summer was smart enough to notice when Rick was placating Mom. Her eyes narrowed, but the moment passed as Rick turned his attention to his plate, both hands now above the table, and Jerry chirped up with some inane "fun" fact he had learned.
Rick informed him that just because someone says something on the internet doesn't make it true. Everyone laughed at Jerry's expense.
A Father's Duty - 2/5
Jerry was no stranger to being home alone. (or mostly alone, depending on the unpredictable comings and goings of Rick and Morty) Being unemployed, he had all the time in the world for mundane activities like puzzles and popping virtual balloons on the iPad. Today was one of those many, many days, and Jerry felt productive for once. It was a good time as any to get some well-needed household cleaning done before Beth and Summer returned from the mall. Things had been on the tense side in his marriage lately, and he half-hoped this would win him back some points with Beth.
After dutifully hanging up Beth's clean shirts and tidying up their own room, Jerry decided laundry would be his first task. That way, he thought, he could get more done between cycles. Jerry gave himself a preemptive smirk of self-satisfaction at his genius thinking before setting off. He started in Morty's room, giving a fatherly shake of the head at the state of disarray he found it in. Not to be deterred, Jerry got to work, gathering up an assortment of discarded clothes into a basket. Yellow shirt, yellow shirt, sock, yellow shirt, two more socks, jeans, yellow shirt.
While he was there, Jerry went ahead and fixed the bedding that had been strewn across the floor leading to the door. Looks like Rick dragged him off to God knows where again. Jerry paused halfway through tucking in the sheet—blue crewneck. Stuffed between the mattress and the wall was an all-too-familiar yet strikingly out-of-place garment. Pulling it out and examining the article verified Jerry's assumption—one of the shirts Rick always wears under his lab coat. Jerry's brows furrowed, the cogs in his head churning slowly but surely. How on Earth could this have ended up here?
A list of reasonable explanations failed to supply itself. An uncomfortable feeling, buried deep, took root in the forefront of Jerry's mind. He was always one to jump at the chance to point fingers at Rick for something or other, and Jerry didn't know what exactly to make of this. Blue sweatshirt in hand and basket of dirty clothes forgotten, Jerry took to the garage with a determined pace. Perhaps there was a reasonable explanation for this. One way or another, he was going to find out how his father-in-law's shirt ended up in his son's bed.
Rick was tinkering at his workbench when the garage door unceremoniously swung open. A cold annoyance prickled up the back of his neck. He didn't need to turn to see it was his daughter's good-for-nothing husband. Morty looked up from where he sat on the ledge of the workbench directly next to Rick, stiffening at what his Dad had deathgripped in his hand. Noticing Morty's demeanor shift, Rick reluctantly turned around. His brow cocked at the sight of his missing shirt, which Morty had sworn he hadn't seen.
"Is there a reason you're bothering me, Jerry?" Rick sneered the man's name as if it were a slur.
Said man scoffed in response, thrusting the shirt in front of him like garlic to a vampire. "A very good reason, actually. Care to explain what your shirt was doing in my sons bed?" Jerry shook the garment for emphasis.
Rick's expression turned smug as his attention turned back to Morty. "Yeah MOrty, care to- care to explain?"
The teen shrank under Rick's knowing gaze, warmth rushing to his cheeks. "O-o-oh, well, you know…" he waved his hands vaguely, "I guess I didn't look hard enough after all, heh."
Jerry's frustration grew in tandem with his confusion. From his son's sheepish smile directed at Rick and the unreadable look in the older man's eyes (though Morty read it just fine), Jerry felt like he was rapidly losing control of this conversation. If he ever had it in the first place. Something was being kept from him.
A pointed clearing of his throat earned back the duo's attention. "You tell me what the Hell's going on here right this instant."
Rick rolled his eyes, taking two long steps and looming over the slightly shorter man with a bored glare. He didn't have time for this, but had to get it out of the way eventually.
"Well, Jerry, it looks like your son here took one of my shirts for reasons that clearly have nothing to do with your sorry ass and therefore don't concern you." he snatched the shirt back with ease, tossing it over his shoulder to Morty, who was still in his place on the counter. The boy caught it gratefully, hugging the blue sweatshirt to his chest. Rick smirked without having to look; Jerry's perplexed face told him all he needed to know. "I think you should mind your business if you value your place in this family. Which, for the record, is at the bottom."
Jerry floundered helplessly, grappling for a comeback, but was already being crowded out of the garage. He looked to his son behind Rick for any semblance of a lifeline, but found instead the boy burying his face in the offending shirt with a blissed-out expression.
"If you have any more pressing concerns, take them up with Beth and see how that pans out for you."
With that, Jerry was left staring dumbfounded at the garage door inches from his face. As he slowly retreated, he shook his head, chiding himself. Assumptions. They make an ass of u and mption.
Well, the chores weren't going to finish themselves.
Interdimensional Cable - 3/5
Beth let out a deep sigh as her car rumbled to a stop in the driveway, hands barely loosening their vice-like grip on the steering wheel. Her eyes slid closed for a few much-needed beats before she forced them open, glancing at the dashboard. 11 pm. Jerry was probably in bed already. Asleep, God willing. With another weary exhale, Beth climbed out of the car and moved towards the front door, already pondering which bottle to pour a glass of tonight. She was thankful to have the next two days off for the weekend, the first time this month. Things at the horse hospital had been particularly busy.
She made a beeline to the kitchen upon entering the home, only registering the faint sound of the TV halfway through pouring a glass of red. Setting the bottle down and taking a much-needed swig of wine, Beth walked to the archway and peered into the livingroom. Illuminated by the faint glow of the TV, which was, of course, playing some alien movie, were the distinct silhouettes of her father and son. Beth's initial reaction was a soft smile, heart warming at the sight. She loved seeing her Dad take to Morty, thought it was good for both of them. Morty had always needed a friend, maybe even a guiding hand that his own father could so rarely provide. Beth secretly hoped the extraordinary nature of Rick could rub off on Morty in some way.
Rick was a special breed, and Morty, well, he was special in other ways. Beth's favouritism between her children was not always subtle; like that time on Titan, she chose Summer over her brother without much deliberation. At least Morty seemed to take it in stride or conveniently forgot about that whole ordeal. It wasn't that she didn't care for her son. She did, really; he was just a touch too similar to his father at times. Now, though, with Rick at the helm, Morty had a real chance of actually doing something meaningful in his life. That's all Beth wanted for her children.
Coming out of her thoughts, Beth finally noticed something. The two were sitting a touch… close. It was pretty typical for Morty to gravitate towards Rick, always positioned closer to Rick's side of the couch than the other. Still, now he was practically leaning against his grandpa's side. An uneasy feeling began to rear its ugly head in the pit of Beth's stomach, though she couldn't exactly place it. There was nothing wrong with a boy being affectionate with his own kin. Rick just wasn't exactly the affectionate type, nor was Morty, for that matter. At least, that's what she'd always thought.
Beth's eyes adjusted slowly to the dim lighting as she took an unconscious step into the room. Rick's arm was draped casually over the back of the couch, and, upon closer inspection, his hand rested on Morty's shoulder. The older man's thumb brushed the younger's collarbone and-
"Hey, sweetie."
Beth startled, realising now Rick had turned his head to look back at her.
"O-Oh! Aha, hey, Dad." She responded, suddenly sheepish. She probably seemed strange lurking in the dark like that. She hid her expression behind a long sip of her glass.
Rick's face was hard to make out in the low lighting, but Beth was sure his eyes looked fond and relaxed. It rubbed off on her, smile returning as she walked around the couch. She could see now that Morty's head was lulled forward, face relaxed with sleep. She was vaguely aware that Rick's thumb was still caressing her son's collarbone.
"Long day?" Rick's voice was almost uncharacteristically soft, and Beth realised he didn't sound- or smell- drunk for once. Her grip tightened self-consciously around the stem of her wine glass.
She gave a noncommittal shrug. "You know how it is," did he? "Works work. Just glad to be done for the week." There was a pause, Beth shifting in place. Her attention drifted to her son once more. "So…"
"I didn't realise how late it'd gotten. I guess I should get this one to bed." Rick interrupted, nodding to Morty at his side. "You should get some rest, Beth. You deserve it."
Morty gave a groggy hum as he was nudged awake, Rick's grip on his shoulder turning firm as he guided the still half-asleep boy to his feet. Beth merely watched in silence as her son leaned against her father's side, the older man leading him out of the room and up the stairs without another word. Something about it stung. She wanted Rick and Morty to be close, so why did it feel so weird to see them acting close?
She didn't run back into Rick when she made her way upstairs with her freshly topped off glass. Beth had a hard time getting to sleep that night, but it all faded away the next day. It was nice to see her Dad slightly more chipper than usual. Even Morty was less snippy.
Different - 4/5
It was annoying, to say the least. How differently Rick treated Summer compared to Morty. He didn't even try to hide it either. It was unfair considering how often Summer actually helped out behind the scenes. After all those times she cleaned up after another Morty's Mindblowers gone awry.
"Why am I always in the back?" Summer complained, absently kicking a loose can at her feet in the back of the ship. "Older sibling rules say I should get shotgun."
"Older sibling rules say youre a bitch, Summer," Morty replied curtly, earning a flick in the arm from Rick. He rubbed the offending spot with a dejected frown. "I was joking, geez."
"Be nice to your sister." Rick didn't pull his attention from the open expanse of space before him. "You sit in the back because Morty's seat is beside me."
Summer scoffed at the non-answer, though it was more than she was actually expecting to get. She crossed her arms, looking out at the passing stars and distant planets. If her phone didn't work up here, she'd never agree to these, she thought. At least the view was nice.
They were approaching a small grey planet, the ship rumbling slightly when they began to descend into the atmosphere. Thick, dark-brown clouds and the distant silhouettes of smog-pumping factories quickly replaced the once-ethereal view. Summer frowned, nose scrunching in distaste. She knew whatever Rick needed her for wasn't going to be anything interesting this time around, but this just seemed bleak.
"Alright, Summer, Morty, just do as I say, and let's get this done quickly. You don't want to- URP- to breathe the air here too long." As the ship touched down, Rick tossed the kids a respirator each before securing his own, "These'll help but barely."
"You still haven't told us what we're doing here, Rick." Morty pointed out as he adjusted his respirator.
"Let me fucking finish then, MOrty." The older man scowled, eyes narrowing dangerously. "You don't need another lesson in patience, do you? Since apparently- apparently you didn't learn anything last time."
Summer saw her brother shrink in his seat, head shaking vigorously as he backtracked, sputtering out an apology. She cocked a curious brow, looking between the two. Rick looked far too smug. Clearly, she was missing some key context here.
"Ahem." She said rather than actually clearing her throat, "Earth to Rick and Morty. Some of us actually have plans to get back to you know."
"Right, right. Look, all you two have to do is load up the ship. Should be pretty impossible to fuck up." Rick gave a dismissive wave as he hopped out of the ship. "Wait here."
With that, he was walking into the factory they had landed beside. Summer readjusted her respirator absently as she scooted forward to invade the space between the front seats.
"So what was that about?"
Morty scoffed. "What was what?"
"Another lesson? Is grandpa Rick, like, training you or something?" It was said sarcastically, but the silence that followed was telling. "Wait, what?"
Morty shifted uncomfortably in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. "It-it's really none of your business." He was mumbling now, looking as if he were trying hard enough that he might be able to disappear from this conversation.
"No, no, you have to tell me now. How does-"
Before Summer could probe further on what exactly this training entailed, Rick was back with a serpent-like alien in tow. The ground trembled as a hole opened up a few feet from the ship, a stack of crates rising up on an elevator pad. Morty hopped out of the ship, Summer following close behind.
"You-you two- chop chop." Rick gestured to the crates with a strange, probably alcoholic, bottle that was now in his hand. He took a deep swig before turning his attention back to the alien behind him and conversing in a language Summer didn't understand.
Approaching the crates, Summer rolled her eyes to see they were all full of similar-looking bottles. Of course, leave it to Rick to have his grandkids do his booze run. Still, he was paying her for this.
An hour later, they were all back in the garage unloading the ship. Well, Summer was unloading the ship. Rick was leaning heavily against his workbench, more than a little inebriated now, with Morty in front of him. Though she couldn't make out what was being said, Summer assumed they were arguing.
Setting down the last crate and rounding the ship to collect up from Rick, Summer faltered. Rick had her little brother's wrist in a tight grasp, pulling him too close and whispering something in his ear that made his face turn beet-red. When their grandpa nipped Morty's ear clear as day, Summer's jaw dropped.
"EUGH, WHAT THE HELL?"
Morty startled and tried to move away, but Rick wouldn't relent the grip on his wrist.
"O-Oh, right, here." Rick slurred, pulling a 20-dollar bill from his back pocket with a free hand and tossing it towards the girl.
It fell as her feet, Summer still staring wide-eyed at the pair. Morty was hiding his face against their grandfather's chest now. Rick didn't look at all perturbed. There was a long, pregnant silence. Not knowing what else to do, Summer finally reached down and grabbed the bill, worrying it between her fingers. After another uncertain moment, she hurried out of the garage, slamming the door behind her.
Maybe Rick not treating her the same as Morty wasn't that bad.
Familial Affection - 5/5
"These eggs are really good, Mom." Morty hummed between bites as he shovelled down his breakfast like a man starved.
Jerry raised a sceptical brow as he regarded his son. "Slow down, champ, breakfast isn't going anywhere."
Summer gave a derisive snort. "Champ? Really, Dad?" she mocked without looking up from her phone.
"Thank you, sweetie." Beth responded, ignoring the other two. "You do seem to be in a hurry, though."
Morty shrugged as he washed down the food with a large gulp of orange juice. "J-just ready for school, I guess. Rick's taking me."
The room collectively tensed for a moment, Jerry shooting Beth a pointed look and Summer briefly reconsidering her decision to ride with a friend today. Morty didn't seem to notice or, more accurately, care as he finished off his plate.
Jerry broke the silence first with a forced chuckle. "You? Excited for school? Since when?"
"He's obviously just skipping with Rick again." Summer accused, looking to their mom to say something, anything, about what they were all thinking. She didn't.
"Nnnnnope." Rick entered from the kitchen, walking around to stand behind Morty's chair. "been helping little Morty here study for once. He's going to do good on that test for grandpa, right?" he leaned over the boy who beamed up at him.
"Yep!"
"Good." The older man praised, leaning further down and, to the rest of the family's dismay, giving his grandson a peck on the lips that was eagerly reciprocated.
Beth's grip on her fork tightened, but she simply smiled and replied, "Well, look at you good, Morty. It's nice to see you taking school seriously for once," with a pleased tone.
"Ugh." Summer huffed, abruptly pushing out of her seat with a loud scrape and stomping out the front door.
"What's her proURPblem?" Rick inquired as if he didn't already know, as he took his seat and popped a sausage link into his mouth.
Jerry cleared his throat, staring expectantly at his wife across the table. Beth offered a meager shrug, sipping her coffee instead of addressing the situation. It would make do until she could raid the wine cabinet after work. Her husband sighed with a disappointed shake of the head. Rick nudged Morty's knee under the table with his own, smirking down at him. Morty didn't get the same smug satisfaction that Rick did from this, but couldn't bring himself to feel too bad either.
They'd get over it eventually. Rick was sure of it.
After the duo took their leave, Jerry finally spoke up.
"Are we seriously not going to say anything? I mean, Beth, come on-"
"Come on, what, Jerry? What do you want me to say?" She interrupted, "You want me to tell my Dad he can't hang out with his own grandson? That they're not allowed to be close?"
Jerry laughed incredulously at that, throwing up his arms, "Um, hello? You mean the grandson he just kissed ON THE LIPS, MIND YOU, in front of all of us?"
"What exactly are you insinuating right now? That my father is some… Some predator? It was a peck, Jerry. There's nothing weird about it." Beth stood then, deciding that after work was too long a wait. Just a glass wouldn't hurt.
Jerry buried his face in his hands at the table.
+1
"A-Ah, R-R-Rick, yes-!"
"Fuck, Morty, you feel so good. You- You make grandpa feel so fucking good."
"So how long are we going to pretend this isn't happening?" Summer stood in front of the TV with her arms crossed, looking between her mom on the couch and Dad in his chair.
Jerry looked up from the newspaper he was pretending to read with a sigh, looking to his wife for an appropriate response.
"Summer…" Beth started, setting down her third glass of wine.
"No, no, I seriosuly would like to know how long we're going to keep acting like grandpa Rick isn't fucking my little brother, your underage son, upstairs right now." Summer was about sick and tired of her parents dragging their feet. Of her mom, unable to bring herself to stand up to Rick, and of Jerry, unable to go against Mom's inaction. This may have been the first time they actually heard it, but they all knew. Neither Rick nor Morty had been making any effort to keep this newfound development between them that much of a secret.
"Summer's right, Beth, I think-"
"Oh, like you're not responsible for this too?" Beth was quick to defend herself, "So much for being the man of the house huh, Jerry?"
"You cannot be serious. I mean, Beth, really, as if you didn't immediatley shut me down when I told you about the shirt."
"I DIDN'T REALISE, JERRY, I DIDN'T-"
"OH MY GOD BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!" Summer cut off their bickering. "Are either of you going to do something about this or not?"
There was an uneasy pause, Beth picking up her glass and taking a shaky sip. Jerry slumped back in his chair. All the tension that had been building up in the house over the past few weeks was finally on the precipice of boiling over. Something had to be decided. Ignoring the problem clearly wasn't going to make it go away, and they all knew that, but felt powerless to do anything. Summer finally deflated, dropping onto the couch next to her mom.
Beth eyed her daughter wearily before placing a tentative, hopefully reassuring hand on Summer's back.
"Summer…" she started again, "look, I know you're frustrated, we all are, but… Well, sweetie, there's nothing we can do."
Summer blinked back tears, shaking her head in rejection of the idea. "Why? Why can't you?"
Her mom took a deep breath, downing the rest of her glass in one quick gulp to power through this much-needed but much-dreaded conversation. "Anything involving my Dad is complicated, you know that. It's not like the police could do anything to him." she worried her lip between her teeth, trying not to think too hard about what she was actually saying. "Say we do put our foot down. What's stopping Rick from just leaving with Morty?"
"…Or erasing our memories." Summer added quietly, more to herself than her mom.
There was nothing else to say after that. It was decided, as it had been from the beginning. No one was going to do anything about it. Whether they could or not was never the question. They wouldn't, and that was that. Beth tells herself she would if Morty had only seemed more afraid, unwilling. If she knew he was being forced, hurt, she would do something. She would protect him. Jerry believed he would put an end to it if only Beth allowed it.
Summer knew they were all going to Hell.