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"Are you done, Morty?"
Morty nodded, clutching his books tight to his chest. The children's section of the library was a colorful haven compared to the rest of the building. A garden mural ran along the far wall, hiding the matte beige that covered the other three. Morty's favorite part of it was the gray mouse tucked among the marigolds, its small pink nose pointed up as it gazed at the clouds. It was the first thing Morty searched for every time he came in, and relief always washed over him when he found it. He wasn't really sure why.
Library trips were enjoyable for Morty, even if he was having trouble reading in school recently. It was peaceful, unlike his house, where his parents' arguing was a recurring track on the OST of Morty's life.
"Show me what you got," prompted Rick, who was sitting criss-cross applesauce in front of him. Morty went through his stack of books, watching his grandfather's expression carefully. Rick liked when he picked science books, and Morty liked it when Rick smiled at him, told him he was special, just like Grandpa.
"Just gotta get one thing from upstairs, then we can go," said Rick, standing and putting a hand on Morty's back to guide him. The stairs rattled as they climbed; the raised patterns in the dull blue metal distracted Morty, and he almost tripped near the top, books wobbling in his arms.
Rick walked faster now, with purpose, forcing Morty to do the same until they reached the physics section. He watched Rick peruse the shelves, wondered what he was looking for. He wasn't prepared for Rick to glance down and catch his eye. Morty's face tingled with embarrassment as he looked away, feeling unexpectedly guilty. People didn't like it when he stared at them—Dad didn't usually notice, but Mom hated it, and it always made Summer yell and chase him away. Rick didn't seem to mind, though, because he was smiling when Morty risked another peek at him through his lashes. He plucked a book off the shelf, set it aside, and knelt, his free hand sliding up to Morty's hip, thumb dipping under the hem of his shirt.
"Such a good boy, waiting for Grandpa," he said. "I think that deserves a reward. You want it now, sweetie?"
Morty started to nod yes, but then he remembered the gaps in the shelf where you could see over the books, and the girl he'd seen studying out in the main area, and what if she came over here? He faltered, unsure whether to feel safe in the confines of the aisle.
"It's alright," Rick assured him, "I'll make sure no one sees. All you gotta do is be quiet, okay, Morty?"
"O-okay," Morty whispered.
Rick grinned at him, which meant he'd given the right answer. Then he pried Morty's stack of books from his grip and kissed him. He did it over and over, till Morty was dizzy with it, punch-drunk on his grandpa's kisses. When Rick was satisfied, he pulled the drawstring of Morty's blue cargo shorts, gently tugging at the elastic waistband to work them down. He teased at Morty's cock through his briefs and laughed quietly when his breath hitched.
"You're so damn small," he said, amused. "You like that, baby?"
"It feels good, Grandpa Rick," said Morty, "please... please don't stop."
"Oh, I don't plan to." Rick's hand disappeared into his underwear, not giving him any time to adjust before he wrapped his fingers around Morty's little cock.
Morty forgot himself, letting a whimper slip as he bucked into Rick's hand. His eyes widened when he realized, and he trembled in a mixture of fear and pleasure. Somehow Rick tended to blur the line between the two for him. Rick didn't seem angry, though. He moved in closer, his lab coat falling like a sheet over a pillow fort, blocking Morty in.
"You better pray she's listening to heavy metal out there if you're going to do shit like that, sweetheart."
Morty heard the pop of a bottle opening, and his thighs clenched in anticipation. Rick's hand withdrew, pushing his shoulder so he'd turn around. Morty braced his hands against the shelf. He expected Rick to pull his briefs down, but instead they were tugged sideways to expose his ass. The pressure made him squirm.
"Can't get the books dirty, Morty," Rick explained. "Well—we could, but I prefer to defile the laws of physics in other ways." He chuckled to himself. "Alright, baby, here we go."
The slight chill of Rick's lubed-up finger made Morty shiver. He tucked his face into his arm to muffle any noise, feeling Rick press into him and fighting the urge to rise up onto his tiptoes.
It was uncomfortable at first. Morty huffed out short breaths as Rick added a second finger. The stretch was almost too much for him, hot tears pricking at his eyes. Rick hushed him and did something wonderful with his fingers that made Morty's legs shake.
"Mm—a-again," Morty whined as quietly as he could. Rick obliged him, pumping in and out until Morty was a panting mess, arms barely holding him up any longer.
"You gonna come for me, sweetie?"
Morty nodded, not trusting his voice, and Rick curled his fingers just right—he gasped and came, slumping against the shelf. He couldn't make a mess of himself yet, not like his grandpa could, but Rick always assured him that was alright. He helped Morty pull up his pants and wiped his hand off on his coat before scooping up their books.
"Let's check out, huh?"
Morty grabbed for his free hand and allowed himself to be led past the study area, which was now empty, downstairs to the circulation desk. The librarian recognized the pair of them, and she cooed over Morty while she scanned barcodes.
"You'll be a scientist just like your grandpa before you know it," she said, dimples showing. Morty took his books and smiled back. Rick ruffled his hair.
"Yup," he agreed, "I think he's really gonna take me - take after me."