Is this real

Just another day

Rick sat in the dimly lit garage slowly waking up from a blackout. 'Ugh this fucking sucks'He groaned looking at the clock. It read 2:38 am. Rick raked through his messy hair with his fingers and stood up, releasing a sigh. His head was pounding and his vision was shit, he couldn't focus. Everything hurt. 'Jeez I must've gotten vindicator drunk...' he thought as he tries to remember the previous night.
Rick grabbed his flask mechanically and took a large swig, slightly scrunching his face. 'What the hell is this' Rick looked at the flask trying to figure out its content and belched "UGGGH whatever. Gotta-gotta get soAHHmmm stuffff " Rick had been tracking a powerful weapon stolen from him a few weeks ago. He finally got a location which means he was getting it back. Now.

The drunken old man made his way up the stairs to Morty's room to wake his little helper. He needed his brainwaves or whatever, but Rick really enjoyed his grandson's company for some reason. When Rick opened the door he could see Morty's small body under the blankets, he looked so peaceful. Rick quietly got closer to the point where he could see morty's face in the dark. He just stared and couldn't bring himself to wake the boy. But he quickly snapped out of his weird zoned out moment and remembered his task.
He gripped the sleeping boy by the shoulders and shook him till he opened his eyes and tensed. "R-rick what's wrong. Is the house under attack or something?" Morty was confused and tired and fell limp when Rick answered. "Don't be UUHRP stupid Morty. I just need your help with something." "Ughh Rick can-can't it wait till tomorrow...well like later?" Rick sighed and pulled up his grandson's covers which caused Morty to flinch from the cold air replaced with the warmth from the blanket. But Morty was being more tense than usual which made Rick look him up and down until he found the issue. It was a small bulge in his grandson's pajama pants. Little fucker must've had a naughty dream. Rick couldn't stop looking and felt a little twitch in in pants while wondering what his little boy was dreaming about. Something deep inside his mind was hoping that it was about him but let's be honest. What 13 year old boy fantasizes about his 70 year old crazy grandfather. Bet hey, if Rick was sick who's to say that his family member wasn't the same way.
Morty however was nervous and sweaty, finally seeing what Rick was looking at and cleared his throat. "Uhhm Rick what" Morty was cut off by Rick sitting next to him on his bed. "Shhhh it's okay" The young boy didn't know what was going on but shifted, obviously uncomfortable with the current situation. "Morty, it's fine just - I'll let you sleep" As Rick began getting up, Morty stopped him by tugging on his lab coat and silently pleading with his big eyes for him to stay.
Rick took the hint even though he knew he shouldn't. But he layed down in bed next to Morty and pulled the covers up. After a few minutes Morty curled up to Rick finally getting comfortable again with his body pressed to his elder. Rick could feel his tiny prick against his thigh and without thinking started slowly pressing his leg to cause friction. The boy felt the sudden change and took his opportunity to slowly grind on his grandfather. He thought he was being subtle like a criminal mastermind finessing his preferred outcome but that was until he let out a low moan. At that realization Morty's eyes flew open and towards Rick to see if he noticed. Rick's eyes were closed and he seemed to be asleep. Morty let out a sigh but felt it again, the movement of Rick's thigh purposely rubbing on his groin. He knew this was a game when he let out a quiet whine and his 'sleeping' grandpa smirked. Okay, the old man wants to play games. Then let's play games.