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It was always late when Morty came here. The starlight bathing down on him, on Rick, was as fitting as anything the universe could bestow upon them.
Rick wouldn't have wanted to be here. Surely he had a different death wish. He would have probably liked to be converted into a smokable liquid, or spread out in a nebula so his dust could fuse with the stars of which he always sort after.
A breeze ran through the cemetery, kicking up leaves and dirt and Morty's scruffy hair.
It had been years since. Morty grew into a fine man. He had a job, a lovely boyfriend. But he never stopped longing for the great, black abyss of space.
Longing for his grandfather.
"I-I watched this show," Morty began, his soft voice catching on the wind. Speaking to the dead was difficult at first, but practice made perfect. "It was o-on interdimensional cable. About a boy and his father, trav-traversing the universe, getting into all kinds of trouble. You probably wouldn't have liked it. But it-it reminded me."
Morty slipped down on his knees, hands wandering to the turned soil in front of him. "I wonder, sometimes, R-Rick... If you miss me. I know it's not -that you can't, but I like to think you do."
There was not enough comfort in the world for Morty when he remembered Rick. His eyes welled with hurt, and loss. "Because I miss you. It's not the same, it's never the same. Not-not even another Rick could... could be like you."
Morty crept forward on his hands and knees, uncaring of the dirt on his jeans, or the sanctity of a grave plot. Rick wouldn't mind.
"You're special Rick. Special to-to me. You-you said I could take it all away. My memories of... O-of you but," he stalled, choking on the words.
"I would be erasing myself."
Morty reached out and ran his fingers over the headstone. 'Rick Sanchez'.
"Do you remember, Rick, the first time w-we -you had me? In the back of the ship. You were so..." Mortys eyes fluttered closed as the warmth of that night flooded him. "So kind."
Morty leant his head over his grandfather's name carved in stone. His other hand wondered low, down his stomach and to his belt.
"You held my hand," Morty continued. "And kissed my neck. It was, I-it was like my dreams, Rick."
He shucked his belt from its buckle.
"Like my h-heart was full." Tears slithered down his cheeks, fondness and tragedy melding as one. Morty slid his hand into his underwear and grasped his half-mast member.
Morty's breath caught in his throat.
"You were f-f-fucking lovely." Morty stoked long and slow, just as Rick did that night some ten years ago. Morty wriggled his cock out of his pants and into the cold night air. Coils of hot shame snake through his stomach, pressing him onward.
"You fucked me so good then, Rick. You- I never even thought... It-it could be that good." Morty's free hand grasped at the top of the headstone as he sank lower to the ground. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.
He stroked himself with delicacy, savouring the feel of his hand encapsulating his cock.
"You were so good to me, R-R-Rick. I-I-I loved every second. And every time we fucked after that." Mortys voice grew ragged, constricting with pleasure and heartbreak.
"That feeling, Rick, the feeling of you f-filling me up. It... I woke up thinking about it, and, and went to sleep wait-waiting for it."
Morty worked himself harder, pressing at all his sensitive spots. His chest bloomed with rose bushes, beautiful and sharp, cutting into his heart, burning his lungs.
"I was... Was your good little boy Rick. You're Cachorrito." Morty's tears ran unabashed down his chin and dripped on the soil below, surely to sink to the casket buried deep. Plumes of hot hair condensed as Morty expelled heady breaths into the night.
"You're hands on-on me, I couldn't get enough. You'd touch me, anywhere, a-a-any how and I'd melt." Morty's body shivered like a leaf in hot smoke, in a wildfire, about to burst into flames.
"You, Rick... I-I-I..." Morty lost his words, lost his mind. His cock twitched as he neared.
"I-I love you."
The snake inside Morty lunged, uncoiling like a loaded spring as Morty spilt over the carvings on Rick's headstone.
The heat on Mortys skin, in his chest, dissipated. His afterglow was not beautiful or kind, as it once was.
Morty was empty. All he was after Rick left was empty.
Morty took a deep breath and sighed. He sat up and tilted his head back. The night sky blurred through his tears, the stars shining in great lines of refracted light.
"I miss you so much," he uttered to no one.