Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12692367.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Walking_Dead_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Carl_Grimes/Negan, negan/carl_grimes
  Character:
      Carl_Grimes, Negan_(Walking_Dead), Negan's_Baseball_Bat_Lucille_(Walking
      Dead), Olivia_(Walking_Dead:_Alexandria), Judith_Grimes, Rick_Grimes,
      Dwight_(Walking_Dead), Daryl_Dixon, Arat_(Walking_Dead), Spencer_Monroe
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Sex, Dubious_Consent, Sexual_Coercion, Rough_Kissing, Rough_Sex,
      Anal_Fingering, Anal_Play, Anal_Sex, Hand_Jobs, Power_Dynamics, Power
      Play, Power_Imbalance, MILD_-_Freeform, Daddy_Kink, Forced_Orgasm, Tears,
      Forced_Ejaculation, forced_role_play, Porn_With_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-11 Completed: 2017-11-18 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 19719
****** Bad Bad Ritual ******
by TrashQueens
Summary
     “What kind of deal?” Carl eyed him warily, head still slightly bowed.
     “You could sleep with me.” Negan tapped Lucille on the ground like a
     judge’s gavel, leaning back on his heels as he looked the other
     straight in the eye, letting him know he was dead serious.
      
     Negan strikes a deal with Carl that's more of a threat than a deal
     and Carl makes his choices. Based off eps 7.7 and 7.8 (sorry folks,
     I'm shit with summaries)
Notes
     Yo whaddup? Its Queen Pink back at it again with some dub-con and
     sweet sweet boy tears. Idk where this came from other than watching
     the eps and wishing they were trashier lol I apologize if anyone
     reading this finds excessive use of existing lines from the show
     annoying ^_^; I was trying to go for a blend that would feel like
     what dialogue I added would fit naturally with the given dialogue, if
     that makes sense ^_^' this is my first time writing these two, so I
     apologize if anyone feels ott ooc, I really tried to keep the basic
     personalities there. I'm obnoxiously proud of this fic and can't
     believe how long it ended up being considering I intended it to be a
     simple pwp...
     Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this filth. Comments are greatly
     appreciated as always! Hate will not be tolerated, also as always. CH
     2 IS COMPLETED AND WILL BE UP WITHIN THE WEEK
     If you want some tunes to listen to while you read, I pretty much
     listened to Timber Timbre's whole Keep on Creepin On album while I
     wrote this. If you haven't heard it, go give it a listen! The title
     of this fic is based off one of their songs of the same title. Its
     one of my faves!
     Queen Pink
See the end of the work for more notes
***** I found depravity, convinced me I may no longer care *****


Although the sound of gunshots was not an uncommon sound around The Sanctuary,
it didn’t usually come from the back of a fuckin’ supply truck while his people
were unloading all the sweet stuff they had collected. And Negan certainly
hadn’t expected the shooter of said machine gun to be the scrawny little one-
eyed kid from Alexandria.


Carl. Man, the kid was a fucking spit fire. He had a light behind his eyes,
well eye, that intrigued him down to his core. He hadn’t experienced that
sensation in a hell of a long time, if ever, and he was curious to dissect what
exactly that feeling was.


//”Of course…really kid?” Negan looked at the scrawny teen brandishing a gun at
David with a mocking smile.


“You should go before you find out how dangerous we all are.” How dangerousI am
was implied with the death glare he gave the older man. He stood his ground,
completely fearless.


“Well, pardon me young man, excuse the shit out of my goddamn French, but did
you just threaten me?” The look Carl gave him was drenched in ‘go fuck
yourself’ and he was surprised when that cold flint-blue eye sent a slight
shiver down his spine, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It
was both highly interesting and frustrating, made him want to slap the
dangerous confidence right out of the boy.


“Listen,” Negan continued after a moment. “I like you, so I don’t want to go
hard proving a point here, you don’t want that, I said half your shit and half
is what I say it is.” Damn, the kid was meeting him toe to toe, not giving him
an inch. If you aren’t afraid of me, what are you afraid of then? “I’m serious,
do you want me to prove how serious? Again?”


Some of the fight left the sharp blue eye that was boring daggers into Negan’s
own sockets as Carl sighed, defeated. He didn’t back away from the older man
though, just reached around him as he handed his father his gun. He wasn’t
worried about Negan hurting him then, he probably thought he was going to hurt
someone else he cared about right in front of him. And wasn’t that just a
little dangerous trusting the wolf in front of you to not go for your throat
once your back is turned?//


Did he want to mentor Carl maybe? Become his friend and make him stronger? Or
did he want to break the kid? Take him apart bit by bit until there was nothing
left but the red raw inside of a nerve? Whatever it was, Negan couldn’t tear
his eyes away from the lanky cowboy kid riding into town on the back of Negan’s
shining, sheet metal steed.


“Damn!” he drawled, smile playing at his lips. “You are adorable.”


Things moved quickly after that. Carl tried his best, kid fought valiantly
considering his circumstances, but in the end was easily overpowered, lying
flat on his back in the dirt. Negan offered him his hand, trying hard to ignore
that tiny peek of a pale hipbone he got where Carl’s shirt had ridden up. The
look the kid gave him. GodDAMN! If he had been a weaker man, he would’ve fallen
to his knees before the teen, begging for a taste of that youthful, hormone
addled wrath.


He was a fierce, half feral creature and it excited Negan to no end.


///


“Its like talking to a birthday present.” Negan brought up mid-conversation,
finding the bandage covering the boy’s eye too distracting. It was like talking
to the perfect present, the one you know has all sorts of goodies waiting
inside for you to play with, the bandage was merely the bow and ribbons. “Take
that crap off!”


“No!” Incredulousness dripped from that one word and that hard, steely gaze was
back on Negan, giving him a shiver he bit back.


“Two men! Two men.”


Carl flinched when he raised his voice.


“Do you really want to piss me off?” Negan narrowed his gaze, letting the boy
feel the weight of a pin drop.


Carl shuddered as he slowly removed his hat and began unwinding his bandages
and packing. He looked so small, his head bowed and shoulders slouched, posture
so submissive.  His long bangs fell over his eye, a last line of defense
against Negan’s probing stare.


“Get that hair out of your face, let me see.” He eyed every detail of Carl’s
face as he slowly lifted his head and brushed his bangs aside. Fuck, he was a
pretty one. The wound was gaping and still pink on the inside, probably still
tender to the touch. Even still, he was a cute kid with his slightly feminine
full lips and fair skin, no denying it. He was wordlessly staring, having gone
quiet for a beat too long.


Negan set his jaw, that easy smile sliding back into place. “Christ! That is
disgusting! No wonder you cover that up! have you seen it? I mean looked in the
mirror? That is gross as hell!  i can see your socket! I wanna touch it…oh
c’mon, can I touch it?”


The look on the boy’s face halted his verbal assault. It was a look of shame
and a fear of rejection that made his chest ache. He softened his features
minutely. It was too early to be reducing the cowboy to tears. “…damn…holy
hell, kid…look, I–…its easy to forget you’re just a kid…y’know I didn’t mean to
hurt your feelings or anything…I was just screwing around.”


The kid glanced up at him, some mixture of confusion and an odd sort of
hopefulness playing across his freckle-dusted face before he dropped his gaze
again. “Just forget it…” Carl’s tone was softer than he had ever thought the
little badass was capable of.


Today was just full of surprises wasn’t it?


Negan’s attention was torn from Carl by a knock at the door and Fat Joseph
walking in, Lucille in hand.


“You left Lucille out by the trucks…”


“Really? I never do that…I guess a kid firing a machine gun is a little bit of
a distraction.” He looked the boy over with a new kind of appreciation; no one
had ever made him forget his girl like he had. But he could see the fire that
had been in Carl’s eye had dimmed a little and he couldn’t have that happening.
It made Carl go from the most interesting plaything in the toy box to boring.
And things that bored him didn’t last long. “All jokes aside, you look rad as
hell. I would not cover that shit up. It might not be a hit with the ladies,
but I swear to you,” He paused in his little monologue, fixing Carl with an
intense stare. “No one’s gonna screw with you, lookin like that, no sir.”


Except me.


Carl held his gaze for a moment, again his face was awash with confusion, and
maybe he imagined it, but he was pretty sure he saw a flush of color high on
the kid’s cheekbones. Was he really so unused to praise and compliments?


“Were you gentle? Were you kind?” Negan slid his gaze from Carl to Joseph.


“…uh…”


“Did you treat her like a lady?” he asked, brows raised.


“Y-yes sir.” The poor guy looked like he was about to piss himself.


He made sure Carl saw him looking him up and down, wetting his lips before he
asked his next question. “Did you pet her little pussy like a lady?”


Carl looked back at him, disgust briefly crossing his face, quickly followed by
a blush, this kid was actually fuckingblushing.  Dangerous move, kid…I’m the
big bad wolf and you’re my little lamb… It was killing him to know what was
going through that wild child’s mind that had given him that reaction.




///




Silence fell between them for a while. He sat back, looking Lucille over,
polishing her with a rag from his pocket. He wanted to watch the kid squirm a
little. Let him sit there and wonder what Negan was thinking about while he
polished his girl. The girl Carl had made him forget.


“Sing me a song.’ Negan leaned forward, breaking their stalemate.


“What?” Carl’s attention shot back to him from wherever the hell it had been.


“Yeah. You mowed down two of my men with a machine gun, I want something in
return for that.” Negan’s smile was cool, not the playful one he’d been giving
him the whole time he’d been there.


“I-uh..I can’t think of any…” His voice cracked slightly and wasn’t that just
charming?


“Bullshit!!” The boy jerked bodily at the tone and volume of his voice. “What
did your mom used to sing to you? What’d your dad play in the car?” He wondered
how far he could push this submissive side he saw in Carl. What was bringing it
out in him? Was he afraid of Negan or did he feel that vulnerable without his
bandaging? So many questions… Negan stood then and aimed the barbed wire
wrapped bat at the kid. “Start. Singing.”


“Okay, okay…okay…” Carl let out a shaky breath, conflict plain on his features.


“I bet you have the voice of an angel, kid.” Negan smiled easy, resting Lucille
on his shoulder. He wanted to test out praising the boy again just to see if he
had imagined that blush at his compliment earlier. And wouldn’t you know it,
those cheeks turned candy apple pink and the little cowboy let that tough
facade slip for just a second. “…just let me hear it.”


Carl swallowed thick, looking down at his hands in his lap as he stumbled over
his words. “Y-you are my sunshine…”


“Go on.” Negan smirked as he lowered Lucille.


“My only sunshine…you make me happy when skies are grey…” His voice was soft
and wavering slightly, but he could tell Carl probably had a decent set of
pipes when he wasn’t having his chain constantly yanked on.


Negan swung the bat in a practice swing making Carl flinch and look over at
him. “Do not let me distract you, young man!”


“You’ll never know” another swing, another cringe. “dear…how much I love you,
so please don’t take my sunshine away.”


Negan walked back over to the boy, Lucille out from his hip suggestively. He
stepped closer until the bat was right before Carl’s lips, making him have to
look up at Negan. He decided he liked the look of that. He licked his lips
again, his smile turning wolfish.


“That’s pretty good…Lucille loves being sung to; its about the only thing she
loves more than bashing in brains. Weird, huh?” He pushed forward onto the
balls of his feet slightly, just enough to touch the tip of Lucille to Carl’s
lips making the blush that seemed to be a permanent fixture now, stain darker.
He sat on the table, leaning into the teen’s space. “Your mother sing that to
you? Where is she now?”


Immediately, Carl hung his head, letting all that silky looking hair cover his
face like a curtain. He shook his head, lips pursed.


“Damn. dead huh? Did you see it happen?” Negan let him hide for the moment. He
might be an asshole, but he wasn’t a complete dick. The dead all deserve their
moment of silent respect. Hell, he might not have known her, but he had an
appreciation for her for helping bring this half feral creature into the world
so he could sit in front of him in this moment.


“I shot her…before it could…” The confession, and that’s what it was, so much
guilt was laced into those few words, was whispered to the floor.


“Damn, no wonder you’re a little serial killer in the making.” Carl just got
ten times more interesting. Yup, definitely his favorite toy.




///




“Can I wrap up my face now?” His tone was back to an annoyed petulance. The
Ironing incident had left him feeling queasy and angry and it helped strengthen
his resolve and his judgement that this man sitting before him was nothing more
than a monster in human skin.


“No, you absolutely cannot.” The older man sat his seemingly endless paperwork
down, fixing him with a reproachful look.


“Why the hell not?!” Carl pushed back. It wasn’t that he feared further
judgement, no Negan had made his opinions quite clear earlier, despite what he
said about it being harmless teasing.Nothing you do is harmless, asshole.But it
was beginning to become sore being exposed to the open air for as long as it
had been. Negan probably knew that too.


Negan just chuckled at him. “Look at this badass~ like a playful kitten…” He
looked Carl up and down in that way that made him suddenly feel like he was
standing naked in front of the other man and he fought the need to
subconsciously cover his body. “You can’t because I’m not done with you and I
like looking at your disgusting, rad-ass, bad-ass eye, so its staying out.”
Negan leaned forward, a taunting look in his dark eyes. “What? You got
something to say?”


“Why haven’t you killed me? Or my dad? Or Daryl?” Honestly that question had
been nagging at him since he had been flat on his back, looking up at the
leader of the Saviors with his soft underbelly exposed. /Why didn’t you kill me
when you had the chance?/ Carl knew if he tried anything now, he wouldn’t let
the man take him out without a fight. He’d fight until he breathed his last
breath.


“Daryl is going to make a good soldier for me. He thinks he’s holding it
together, but you saw it. Your dad, he’s already getting me great stuff. You,”
The way that word was growled out combined with the look in Negan’s eyes that
shifted to something he couldn’t even begin to understand, made him swallow
hard. “On the other hand…well, we shall see. Its more productive to break you,
more fun too. You thinking that’s stupid?”


“I’m thinking we’re different.” It was his turn to fix the other with a glare.
His suspicions were confirmed then. Negan was just fucking with him because he
could. He probably didn’t even have an end game in mind, probably just set on
stringing this slow torture out as long as he could.


Negan hummed, slackening and tightening his jaw a little as he leaned forward.
“You’re a smart kid, what do you think I should do? You know I can’t let you
go..so do I kill you? Iron your face? Chop off your arm? Tell me–what do you
think?”


Each threat just made Carl angrier and angrier and he pushed up onto his feet.
/Quit fucking with me, old man and tell me what you want!/ He pushed into
Negan’s space, pointing a shaking finger at the window to his bedroom. “I think
you should jump out the window to save me the trouble of killing you.”


“Oh, now there is the kid that impressed the hell out of me!” Negan’s tone was
playful, but his eyes were giving him that warning look, ”Did you just threaten
me?” Even though he was the one towering over him, Negan having to look up at
him now, Carl still felt small and vulnerable and he hated it. That’s what the
message was, wasn’t it? ‘No matter what, little boy, I’m still in charge here.’


“I think you’re not saying what you’re gonna do to me, because you’re not going
to do anything.” Carl spat the words out as he leaned into the older man’s
face, refusing to back down or look away. “If you knew us, if you knew
anything, you would kill us.” He leaned a fraction of an inch closer. “But you
can’t”


Negan stood his ground as well, barely even blinking as he invaded his space.
He had an odd look on his face that Carl couldn’t decipher. It looked like the
cold stare of an animal about to pounce, but then, it almost looked impressed.
Had he actually managed to impress the leader of this group of sociopaths?
“Maybe you’re right.” The older man shrugged, his mood shifting again. “Maybe I
can’t.” Those dark brown eyes looked Carl over from head to toe like he was
looking for the most tender part of him to take a bite of and suddenly, Carl
knew the name of the emotion on Negan’s face: hunger. “Maybe, I have something
even more fun than death planned for you, boy.”


Carl froze then. Realization, a revelation of fear, of just how serious this
situation was and who exactly he was sitting across from washed over him. His
chest rose and fell quickly as memories of that man on the side of the road a
few years ago came to mind. He’d felt so small and helpless and terrified in
that moment. His dad’s mouth stained red with blood and his wild eyes that
night flashed through his mind. He bit the inside of his cheek at the sudden
panicky tears that he felt welling up in his eyes.


“I think,” The smile that curled Negan’s lips upwards showed that he knew
exactly what had just gone through Carl’s mind. The fucker. “That I want to
keep you here. Make you a good little soldier, just like you’re buddy Daryl.
I’ll be a little nicer to you than I was to him because I like you, kid.”


“I can’t–you can’t…” Carl couldn’t calm his rapid breathing. He’d rather die
than have to live the rest of his life here with this man. “My dad, my
family–…please…” He hated how his voice trembled, how he felt one of those hot
tears trail down his cheek. The boy sat back down and dropped his gaze again,
letting that subconscious submissiveness show again. “Please.”


“Are you really going to shatter my image of you as a little badass by whining
about your family?” Negan smirked as Carl flinched slightly as he stood,
Lucille in hand. “Well, if you really don’t want to stay, lets strike another
kind of deal…”


“What kind of deal?” Carl eyed him warily, head still slightly bowed.


“You could sleep with me.” Negan tapped Lucille on the ground like a judge’s
gavel, leaning back on his heels as he looked the other straight in the eye,
letting him know he was dead serious.


“What?! What are you–no!” Carl rose to his feet, hands balled into fists at his
side. Was this guy even for real? He said it so casually, like this was just
another Tuesday morning for him, like he made this kind of deal with every
teenage boy he had the pleasure of dragging back to his den. “Never! You
fucking monster!”


“There it is…got that spark back now, don’t you?” Negan loomed over him like a
grim reaper in black leather, Lucille his scythe. “Now, look at me boy…” When
Carl didn’t immediately obey, Negan grabbed his jaw rather painfully and made
him look up. “The previous deal? You staying here? Off the table now.” He slid
the hand with the bat through the air to show he was cleaning the slate. “New
deal–you give me that sweet, more than likely virgin, ass of yours or I kill
someone in your group and you will decide who. And trust me, Carl, ooh, just
trust me when I say I will make sure it is someone you hold dear.”


Carl felt the whole world tip beneath his feet and if it weren’t for the
bruising grip Negan still had on his jaw, he probably would’ve crumbled right
there. Disbelief, vision blurring, body swaying, disbelief tore a path through
his body. He was serious. His lips parted slightly in shear shock at what the
man was suggesting.


Negan took the opportunity to reach up and trace Carl’s lips with his ungloved
fingertip, dropping Lucille with a loud clatter in the process that made Carl
jump. “Huh, look at that…made me forget my girl again.” He looked straight into
Carl’s eye, slight amusement playing at his features and he slowly slid the
finger into the teen’s mouth. He rubbed over his tongue leaving a trail of salt
and dirt and gun oil in its wake.


Carl felt panic rabbit-kicking him in the chest again. He knew it was wrong,
had wrong written all over it, but what could he do? He wanted to bite down
until he tasted blood, until he spat Negan’s severed finger onto the floor, but
he couldn’t. He couldn’t be responsible for another one of his friends’ deaths.
He could suffer a few moments of pain if it meant saving his family.


Carl’s eyelid fluttered shut for a moment as a sob hiccuped up out of his open
mouth. Negan slid another one in then, slipping the fingers back and forth, in
and out of his mouth, drool escaping his lips and dripping onto his shirt. He
opened his eye after what felt like an eternity and looked up at the older man.
You win.


Negan searched his face for a moment, the smile slipping from his face into
something more placid, more serious. “What’s the verdict?” Even his tone was
softer, quieter and it made Carl’s breath catch. Negan slowly pulled his
fingers from the boy’s mouth so he could speak. “Answer me, boy.”


“…okay…” Carl let his eye fall shut, more tears streaming down his face.
“Okay…I’ll…I’ll let you fuck me.”


“Fuck you, hmm? Is that what we’re calling it then?” Negan smirked down at him
with an arched eyebrow, but it wasn’t that same ‘stupid kid’ smirk from before,
it was somehow more gentle, genuine teasing. “I was going to say ‘make love,’
but if you wanna be fucked, baby,” he brought his face closer to the boy’s so
his lips brushed the corner of Carl’s mouth with each word. “I can do that
too.”


Carl’s instinct was to scowl up at him and jerk away, but now he had no idea
what to do, what might set Negan off and make him turn violent. He just turned
his gaze away and swallowed thick.


“But, first things first.” He finally released Carl from his tight grip and
took a few steps back, sitting heavily upon his bed. He snapped and pointed to
a spot on the floor right in front of him.


Carl grudgingly walked over, still trembling and stood before his judge, jury
and executioner. The least he could do was face his punishment like a man, so
he squared his shoulders and lifted his head, locking eyes with Negan.


“Well, hot damn, would you look at that. Finally doing what you’re fucking told
without a threat first. Good boy.” Negan looked up at him with that mildly
amused grin and goddamit Carl felt that annoying blush creep up on his cheeks.
Am I that fucking desperate for attention? The older man seemed to take notice
of it, but said nothing about it as he continued. “Here, at the Sanctuary, rape
is punishable by death. I do not abide by that shit. So, before we proceed, I’m
going to need you to open that pretty mouth of yours and ask me nicely to ‘fuck
you.” The asshole actually used finger quotes with those last two words.


“Please, don’t make me…” Carl furrowed his brows, his posture faltering
slightly, suddenly unsure if he really could do this and he felt fresh tears
welling up in his eye.


Negan shook his head solemnly and if Carl didn’t know better, would’ve thought
the man was genuinely torn about the deal they had struck. “No dice, baby boy.
Gotta say please.”


And damn it all if that pet name didn’t make him shiver. What the fuck was
wrong with him? He swallowed thick, lips closing and parting on the bitter
words. “…please…please, will you…sleep with me?” His cheeks flamed hot in shame
and embarrassment.


“Hmm, I don’t know, earlier you said ‘fuck you’…” Negan’s voice was a rumbling
purr now as he sat back, bracing himself with his hands on the bed. “Can’t you
say it in a sexier way? C’mon,” His eyes were shining with humour now. “…ask me
to ‘fuck you with my cock’…tell me ‘you wanna sit on my dick’…”


“Are you serious?” Carl couldn’t stop himself from asking, feeling like Negan
was just fucking with him and if he had actually said any of that, then the
older man would just have another reason to tease him.


“As a heart attack.” Again, his smile fell into something softer and he winked.
Fucking winked at him. “Oh, and don’t forget its always polite to say the name
of the person you’re asking a favor of.”


I hate you.


“Please…please, Negan…” He swallowed his pride along with a lungful of air.
“…will you…” Carl’s cheeks were burning and he refused to look Negan in the
eye. “…will you put your cock inside me? I–I want you to…fuck me.”


“Gladly.” Suddenly, Negan’s hands were sliding down the backs of his thighs,
pulling Carl to straddle his lap.


Carl hated how his hands automatically went to the older man’s shoulders to
balance himself. He just looked at Negan from his new perch, clueless as to
what to do next, not really wanting to be the one to initiate things either.
His only experience was those few times with that friend of Enid’s, Jonathan,
last summer, but even then, they’d stolen a few kisses and managed a handful of
handjobs before he had left, not one to stay with groups for very long. He was
well aware what sex was, just had no ground to stand on when it came to having
actually done it.


“Tiny little waist you got there, kid.” The older man’s hands were on his hips
and waist, dragging him that much closer, giving him a rough squeeze, his
coffee colored eyes dark and dangerous. One of Negan’s hands came up to cup the
back of his head and pull him into a rough kiss. He kissed like he did
everything else, completely and all consuming and the boy was having to fight
for breath between kisses that sucked the air right out of his lungs. Negan’s
tongue was insistent in his mouth, laying claim to everything inside.


When they pulled apart, Carl’s face was on fire and he was panting and
trembling. He felt he had grown half hard in his worn out jeans and that sent a
whole new wave of shame through him.


“Well, at least you know how to kiss.” Negan nipped at his lips and all Carl
could manage to do was pull away weakly with a whine. The man smirked cruelly
then and bit his lip hard, breaking the skin right at the fullest point. The
taste of blood flooded his mouth and he gasped. “Do you get off on pain, boy?”
Negan’s eyes flashed. “Does it get your little pussy wet?”


Carl pushed at Negan’s chest, turning away from his filthy words. But he held
him tight, not letting him squirm an inch.


“Alright, alright, I’ll lay off the dirty talk then…” Negan rolled his eyes as
if Carl were a burdensome thing and for some reason, that struck a painful
chord in the boy. “…jeez, worse than some of my wives.”


His retort shriveled in his mouth as Negan grabbed at him again, roughly
dragging him into another kiss that obliterated all thought in his mind. This
time as they broke the kiss, Negan pushed him from his lap and tugged at the
hem of Carl’s shirt. “Off…jeans too.”


Carl was frozen in place once again before Negan gave him that look and he
quickly complied. With shaking hands, he slid the flannel from his shoulders,
letting it pool in the floor behind him, then he slowly pulled his t-shirt up
and off. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before unbuttoning and
unzipping his jeans, letting them join the growing pile. He straightened back
up, left in only his underwear.


“Tsk tsk.” The older man wagged a finger at him. “All of it. Then park it right
here.” He pointed to the edge of the bed between his opened legs.


Carl looked everywhere but at the other man as he slipped out of his underwear,
unable to keep from cupping himself in shyness. He shuffled and turned, sitting
down where Negan had indicated, curled in on himself slightly.


“Forget you have these, alright boy?” Negan gently pried the boy’s hands from
his lap and draped them over his own thighs. His hands softly caressed up
Carl’s sides, fingertips gliding over his ribs, up to nipples. Carl whimpered
and lifted his hands to protect them from Negan’s fingers, but the other
cleared his throat and at the last minute, dropped them back down to his sides.
The older man leaned down to whisper into his ear. “Good boy.”


“Ahh~” A moan left Carl’s lips before he could stop it. Something about Negan’s
voice and the way his fingertips pinched and pulled at his nipples was making
him forget himself. His mind felt hazy, the fog building with each touch of the
other’s rough hands.


“There you go, angel, let that voice out…” Negan’s gruff voice was back in his
ear and he moaned again, trembling at his touch. The combination of leather
sticking to his back, one rough and one glove-smoothed hand on his chest, the
softness of well-worn jeans against his legs and backside was too much, it all
felt too overwhelming. He could barely hold himself together at this point, let
alone keep his voice down.

The gloved hand moved lower, down the flat of his stomach to between his
thighs. He watched it, unable to look away, as the black leather curled around
his now fully hardened member. It just sat there, holding him while Negan
mouthed at his neck and shoulders, covering him in gooseflesh.


“Move those skinny little hips, boy.  Fuck up into my hand.” Negan nipped at
his earlobe.


“Wh-what?” God his voice sounded so wrecked.


“Like this,” Negan grabbed his hip roughly in one hand, pulling him back so
their pelvises were flush and began rocking, pushing Carl’s hips forward,
making his cock slide in and out of his gloved hand. Carl was trapped between
the other’s hand and body and there was no way for him to escape. He let his
head fell back onto Negan’s shoulder. It was good, felt so warm and different,
their bodies rocking together, but so so good. “Just like that, baby boy.”


Hearing Negan’s voice again made his hips falter in their rhythm, reminded of
who he was with in the moment. Disgust rushed through him. What the hell is
wrong with you?


“Don’t stop, Carl.” His name was growled out and he felt his legs turning to
jello-o. “I want you to get real close, alright?” God, the man’s sudden
gentility was such a mind fuck. This was at least the third personality Carl
had seen. Which one was the real Negan? Were any of them real? It made his head
spin.


“Fuck…” Carl whimpered, sucking at his bottom lip.


“Right there, aren’t you?” He felt Negan’s smile against his cheek.


All he could manage was a jerky nod and a panted breath. Before he had even
finished nodding, Negan was manhandling him up onto the bed on his back. It was
annoying how easily he was able to lift and maneuver him, but annoyance was
quickly replaced with confusion as Negan knelt in the floor beside the bed. He
yanked Carl to the edge of the bed until his bottom was hanging off and then
lifted his legs up, folding them against his chest. He brought the boy’s hands
up to hold his legs. “Hold those for me.”


Carl lifted his head as best he could to watch him. All the man offered his
look of confusion was a smile and then he ducked his head and licked a hot
stripe over Carl’s entrance. He nearly shot up off the bed at the sensation.
Then Negan’s tongue was lapping at him and it was so gross and wrong…but it was
amazing. He’d never felt anything like it.


“Feeling good, Carl?” Negan smirked against a round buttcheek, biting it
gently, straight teeth scraping dully across his porcelain skin, turning it
rosy.


Carl shot him his best ‘fuck you’ look.


“Hey, I don’t gotta be this nice, you know.” Negan narrowed his eyes at him,
but there was no heat to it. He was actually teasing again. Carl shook his head
quickly before letting it flop back down onto the bedspread. He chuckled. “Good
boy.”


His tongue was back against his entrance again and it was starting to push at
it, trying to slip inside. Carl squirmed at the odd, slick sensation, not sure
if he liked it or not. It was different. Negan’s tongue pushed past the ring of
muscle and was finally inside him and Carl’s eye went wide as a loud moan was
punched right out of him. “..th-the fuck?”


Negan glanced up at him with a smug grin, still tonguing him. Something about
the eye contact felt too intimate and Carl was blushing and quickly looking
away from the man’s intense gaze. His cock was starting to throb between his
thighs and he tried to figure out how to touch it without letting his legs
drop. He made a small sound of protest when his hand was swatted away. Any
complaints soon died when Negan’s hand wrapped around him while his tongue was
still inside him and that was almost more than he could handle.


Suddenly, something wet and cool was replacing Negan’s tongue and as it slowly
inched inside him, he realized it was his finger. It felt strange getting
fingered, he didn’t understand the appeal, but then the finger curled and his
vision blinked in and out as the neediest sound yet escaped him.


“Look at you, coming apart on just one finger…” Negan’s tone was meant to be
mocking, but he saw that same look on his face as when he had threatened to
throw him out the window. Impressed. Though, maybe now it was appreciative.


Am I doing something right?


He was instantly mad at himself when he realized that’s what he wanted. To
impress the older man, one way or another, prove himself to him. It made
absolutely no sense, but the desire was there, all the same.


“Deep breath…gonna be a bit of a stretch.” Negan withdrew his finger for a
moment, applying more of what he guessed was lube, and a second finger joined
the first. He dipped the tips inside and Carl grit his teeth at the sting.


“Breathe, Carl.” Negan reminded him in that same gentle tone as he slid both
fingers in at once, stopping at the first knuckle.


But he couldn’t. The stretch was scary and his breathing picked back up.


“Carl.”


He lifted his head and the older man fixed him with that look that left no room
for discussion. “My fingers are going inside here, one way or the other.” Negan
roughly moved his fingers just inside the boy’s hole to show exactly where
‘here’ was. “So do us both a favor and relax. This doesn’t have to hurt.”


Carl was so caught up in listening to the smoothness of Negan’s voice that he
didn’t feel his fingers sliding deeper until they curled and hit that spot
again. His back arched and his legs fell open as the older man continued to
relentlessly stroke his cock while caressing that place deep inside him. His
whole body was coming apart at the seams. He realized belatedly that it was
orgasm. He tried to warn the other. “N-Negan…”


“Good boy, Carl…go ahead and come.”


Carl shouted as he came with Negan’s permission. His toes curled and his body
shook. It was the most intense orgasm he had ever experienced, didn’t even know
it could feel like that. Negan kept ruthlessly stimulating him inside and out
until he whimpered. When the fingers left him, Carl was surprised at how empty
he suddenly felt. He was trembling again, skin flushed yet clammy as the sweat
glazing his skin cooled.


He stared up at the ceiling blankly as what had just happened processed in his
scattered mind. He had just came, had an orgasm, because of the man he wanted
so desperately to kill. The same hands that held the bat that tore his friends
apart, had gently worked Carl over and took him apart from the inside out.
Nothing made sense, it was all too confusing.


“Ready for what comes next, boy?” Negan was still kneeling, wiping his mouth on
the back of his hand and cleaning Carl’s release from his hand with a cloth.


No. How could I be? was what he wanted to say, but the words just wouldn’t come
so he nodded lamely, feeling a tear trickle down to his hairline. He watched as
Negan removed his jacket and kicked his boots off in his periphery. The sound
of his zipper going down had Carl turning his attention back to the drab, white
ceiling. “…you could just stop…”


“No, lessons need to be learned, people need to be broken.” Negan shook his
head as he moved Carl up the bed with a harsh grip and a shove, settling down
between his legs. He didn’t fight, didn’t try to push the other man off,
instead lay there limp, letting Negan take what he wanted. “What better way to
break a boy and his father than by fucking said boy?” He noticed offhandedly
Negan was still mostly dressed, his white shirt and jeans still on as he
hovered over him. Carl briefly wondered why until he felt the blunt head of the
older man’s arousal pushing against his already sore hole. “And nothing leaves
a lasting reminder quite so well as the person you hate taking your virginity.”


Carl whimpered, clenching his jaw so tight, he thought his teeth would shatter,
trying to keep the sounds in. Negan was huge, his cockhead was fat and
stretching his untouched body to it’s limits. A scream tore its way out of his
throat as the head finally broke past his entrance and the entirety of his
length, the weight and heat of it, settled into his too small body. The tears
wouldn’t stop flowing now and he was almost grateful for how they blurred his
vision.


“Damn kid, if you aren’t the tightest thing I’ve ever slid into.” Negan moved
his hips, a small back and forth to test the give of his virgin hole, making
Carl cry out. He dipped his head down, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to
the corner of his mouth before he pulled back and rammed back in.


Carl brought a hand to his mouth, biting down on his knuckles to quell the pain
he felt radiating from his pelvis. Negan was just too big, he was going to
break him, split him open on his giant cock. He wanted to beg for him to stop,
but he doubted the man would even if he said please. So he just bit down on his
knuckles harder, until the bright tang of blood spilled onto his tongue.


Negan’s dark eyes narrowed in on the scarlet now smeared on his lips, tracing
it back to the source. He pulled the hand away from Carl’s mouth and brought it
to his own, licking the blood from it.


Carl gasped at the sight. Was this something normal people did? He was
surprised by the shock of arousal he felt at it, quickly feeling ashamed and
dirty and turning his head away. Negan’s stare did not go unnoticed or how he
gave a lazy, self satisfied smile at Carl’s reaction.


The older man pulled out from Carl’s aching body and wordlessly flipped him
over onto his stomach and without any warning, shoved himself back inside,
pulling another, weaker scream from the boy. God it hurt. But the new position
had Negan’s large cock pressing that spot inside him earlier, that spot that
until that moment, Carl had no clue even existed. He hated how he started to
moan again, the pleasure somehow abating and overruling the pain that seeped in
every muscle. He felt himself growing hard again, actually thrusting into
Negan’s hand this time as it wrapped around his prick, urging him onward to
orgasm.


Just as he was about to come, cock painfully hard and bobbing between his legs,
dripping precum onto the covers, Negan stopped stroking him, instead holding
the base in a punishing grip. He draped himself further over the boy, getting
as close to his ear as he could as he whispered. “You gonna come for daddy?”


Carl shuddered at the self given moniker. It made his hardness flag as the
disgust found its way back into his throat. “You’re not my dad–ah!”


“Boy, my dick is in you…balls fuckin’ deep. You feel that?” Negan growled into
his ear as he ground hard against his ass, putting an almost uncomfortable bend
in Carl’s spine. “My cock is in your ass, so I’m your daddy alright, baby boy.”


“Don’t call me ‘baby–’“ Negan’s hand suddenly tugging at his dick again cut him
off. Carl whimpered as his orgasm was forced out of his body by those rough
hands.


“Shit…” Negan’s hips bucked forward then stilled as he groaned out his own
orgasm. Carl tried hard to sit still as he felt that big cock grow even bigger
then twitch incessantly inside him, filling him with the other man’s come.
Negan half collapsed on top of his back, hot breath at the nape of his neck.


Just when Carl was thinking about raising up and pushing the man off him, Negan
seemed to read his mind and sat back on his knees, still leaving his half hard
cock inside the boy’s wrecked hole. He held Carl’s hips tight, telling him to
stay right where he was. There was a long silence that stretched between them
and Carl briefly wondered if Negan was going to take him again, when the older
man finally spoke. His voice was quiet, yet held the weight of power and
control behind it. “Just remember Carl, you chose this…you had other options,
but you said yes to my dick.”


The feelings of shame and self loathing were instant and Carl sobbed even
harder at the man’s cruel words. He hid his face in the covers, clenching them,
wincing when he felt Negan finally slip out of him. He stayed on his stomach,
body wracked with tremulous sobs. Hands were on his hips and he just knew Negan
was going to fuck him again. He wasn’t ready, not yet, not before. But they
just pushed and twisted him until he was laying on his back,spread out across
the bed again.


“I think you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you, baby boy?” Negan was already
redressed, standing beside the bed in his coat and boots.


Carl looked up at him blankly, silent tears still pouring from his eye. They
just wouldn’t stop.

“Answer me, Carl!” Negan barked the order out, that no nonsense look on his
face again.


“Yes…” His tongue felt numb and heavy as the meaningless words left his mouth.
“I’ve learned my lesson.”


“Yes, who?”


no…don’t make me… Carl begged with his one sky blue eye.


“Yes WHO, Carl.”


I hate you


“Yes, daddy, I’ve learned my lesson.” Carl wanted to vomit as the words left
him.


“I know you have, my little serial killer.” Negan smiled down at him cold and
cruel. He stood there, eyes locked with Carl’s like he was trying to see inside
him to his soul. He finally huffed a laugh, something smug and self satisfied,
and looked away, walking over to the couches and  picking up Lucille.
 
***** I felt your poltergeist presence in the frame of the bed *****
Chapter Summary
     “God, kid, you are fucked up.” Negan's words echoed his own thoughts,
     ringing around in his head since yesterday. Negan's voice took on a
     huskier tone that Carl now associated with sex. “But you are my kind
     of fucked up.”
      
     This focuses mainly on ep 7.8
Chapter Notes
     I really have no excuse for this chapter other than...idk, smut? ¯\_
     (ツ)_/¯ I know things take an odd twist, but idk, I couldn't resist?
     I can't believe the behemoth this thing turned into. Its easily the
     longest fic I've ever written. I'm still insanely proud of this, even
     if its just some trash with glitter glue and pom poms stuck to it, so
     please enjoy! Comments and kudos are always greatly appreciated!
The morning after, Carl woke up as alone as he’d fallen asleep. His whole body
ached, everything hurt from top to bottom, but he wasn't about to let anyone
see it. He sat up in the large bed, taking in his surroundings. Nothing had
changed, his clothes were still in a heap by the bed, his hat still over on the
sofa, his body still hurt in ways that made yesterday that much more real. The
only thing that had changed was the day on the calendar and Carl still had to
get up and deal with the shit that had occurred the night before.


Carl had passed out as soon as Negan left for some business negotiations with
his men and he was fairly certain he could’ve been picked up and moved without
so much as batting a lash. He wanted to be mad at himself for falling asleep in
the first place, for letting his guard down around the enemy, but the events of
yesterday had left him bone tired and he had welcomed the black unthinking of
sleep.


He didn’t know what he had expected when he woke up. Some part of him felt
panicky about waking up alone and undisturbed. It made him feel like garbage,
used and discarded without a second glance. Tears fell unbidden from his eye.
He should be happy that Negan left him alone, but he couldn’t fight the
feelings of rejection he so feared from rearing their ugly heads up in his
chest.


What happened now? Would everyone know what happened? Would Negan have spent
all night bragging to his men about what he’d done to the little freak from
Alexandria? Would his friends and family take one look at him and be able to
see how tainted he had become?


Carl was terrified, not of Negan, but of what he had made him feel, had made
his body do. If his intention had been to instill some kind of fear in him,
then he had succeeded. His body trembled as flashes of what happened between
them came to mind, how scared he’d been, how vulnerable and defeated he felt,
how good Negan’s hands had felt on his skin, how absolutely mind blowing it
felt to be filled by Negan and shatter apart on his thick length.


What the hell is wrong with me?


He wanted a shower. A scalding hot one to scrub the filth of yesterday from his
skin.


///




“Goooood mooooorning, baby boy~!” Negan smiled wide as he waltzed in, food tray
in hand. He took in the sight of the small boy, tangled in his sheets, sitting
in the middle of his bed, pretty as a picture. Carl’s lips were pouted from
sleep and all that long hair was mussed. It made him smirk to see how the boy’s
sleepy face was so similar to his well fucked one. The tears shimmering down
his face only added to how beautiful he looked and Negan took a sick
satisfaction in knowing he was the cause of those tears. “Daylight’s a’wastin’
and I have shit to actually accomplish today, so get your lazy ass out of bed
and come eat.”


He knew Carl would wake up alone and confused, wondering where he had run off
to, but Negan hadn’t predicted the relief he saw trickle across his features.
He had just hurt Carl, but the kid was still relieved to no longer be alone and
have the only adult he knew there with him; Negan was both his abuser and
savior and that carried the heady power to it that he found so addicting. It
was such an innocent and purely human reaction and Negan fed off of it.


“I’m not hungry.” Carl refused to look him in the eye, hiding behind the
curtain of his hair again.


“Don’t start that angsty teenage girl bullshit, Carl! You need to eat, so stop
being a pussy about it and stuff your damn face.” Negan was highly amused with
the glare that earned him. “Or, if you’d rather…” He sat beside Carl, brushing
a lock of hair back off his shoulder, letting his fingertip trail along the
boy’s too soft, porcelain skin. “Daddy could feed you, baby boy…you wanting
daddy to take care of you?”


Carl flinched hard, jerking his shoulder out from under Negan’s touch. He kept
quiet, his lips pursed hard, white knuckling the sheets. He had barely
acknowledged the older man’s presence until he had touched him.


Negan bit his lip absentmindedly as he recalled he night before, how he had
played the young teen’s body like a well tuned instrument. Though, less musical
and more like an instrument of torture, if he were honest.  He knew Carl didn’t
want to feel good, had fought it tooth and nail, but eventually he’d caved and
given Negan everything. He knew that for a while, hell maybe forever, every
time Carl would have an orgasm, every time he felt aroused, Negan would be on
his mind. And that was what the definition of satisfaction should be in the
goddamn dictionary.


“Alright, fine.” Negan surrendered, pulling the tray of food onto his lap.
“Feed yourself or I’ll feed you.”


Carl slowly edged towards him, scowling hard, clutching the sheet tight to his
body. He examined everything on the tray before finally picking up the juice
and polishing it off in one go. Negan nodded his head towards the food when the
boy looked up at him. “Eat.” He simply sat and made sure Carl did as he was
told, watching how he picked and nibbled at his food. He could tell by the way
his ribs were poking at his skin, the kid wasn’t eating enough to suit his
body’s needs.


Negan sat the tray on the bed and dropped a set of clothes on the bed beside
Carl before turning to leave. “Shower’s over there, soap and towels are already
in there. I’m givin’ you fifteen and we’re leaving, don’t care if you don’t
have clothes on, I will drag you outside, buck naked. Am I clear?”


“Y-yes.” Carl looked up at him through furrowed brows.


“Am I really going to have to go over this again?” Negan bent at the hips,
pressing more into Carl’s space. “Yes, who?” He placed fingers to his ear as if
he were trying to hear Carl better.


The boy groaned and rolled his eye. “Yes, daddy.” He looked like he’d just
licked a lemon, and wasn’t that just delightful?


“Good boy, Carl.” Negan ruffled his hair then gestured towards the bathroom.
“Go on.”




///




The gurgling of the undead mingled with the clanking of chains, the scrape of
metal against metal as the gate was pushed open, and the smells of rot and
decay combined with the exhaust of diesel making for one hell of a morning. The
convoy headed for Alexandria was to be packed and on the road before eleven.
Negan sat back in his usual place in the truck with a huge grin on his face.
This was going to be a good day, he could just feel it in his bones.


Carl was sat beside him on the large bench seat, looking out the side window as
they pulled forward. When he followed the boy’s line of sight, he realized he
was looking at Daryl working and adding walkers to the wall they had erected.
It didn’t take much to realize there was a profound closeness between the two.


Too bad, little lamb, you showed the wolf the way in…


“Daryl!” Negan barked at the other man. He hasn’t fucked with Daryl for a
minute, this should be fun.


Before Daryl came up, he grinned mischievously and yanked Carl into his lap,
settling those baby deer-long legs across his own. Carl looked up at him in
confusion until the older man snaked a hand down the back of his jeans and
blatantly started groping his ass. The boy bit back a gasp as that one, lake
blue eye glared. God, Negan lived for this boy’s reactions.


Just as Daryl approached, Negan nipped hard at the boy's lips, reopening the
bite wound from yesterday and making Carl whimper. He looked up at Negan,
silently begging him to stop, but the older man just gave him a look to let him
know he wanted him quiet.


“You seemed worried,” Negan turned his head with a lazy smile, still palming
Carl's cute little butt, as if he’d just noticed Daryl was standing there,
making sure he saw what he was doing to the boy. “So I’m taking the kid home.”


A myriad of emotions passed over Daryl’s face, which was something considering
he hadn’t shown anything but his stone cold poker face until Carl had arrived.
He took everything in, Carl’s flushed face and pained expression, following
where Negan’s other hand lead to behind the boy. Rage, fury, anger all
flickered over him. “Get your hands off him!”


“What? Do you have a problem with me touching him like this?” Negan grinned,
knowing he was poking at a raw nerve. He slowly moved his hand to the front of
Carl’s jeans, cupping him. Carl whined and hid his face in the crook of Negan’s
neck, shocking both older men. “Now, now angel face, this is a punishment for
Daryl, but if you keep trying to hide that pretty, tear streaked face in my
shoulder, it will be for you too.”


“Now, you see here, Daryl,” Negan roughly grabbed Carl’s jaw, forcing him to
face his friend. “What we have here is completely consensual, isn’t it, Carl?”
He gave the boy’s face a hard shake. “Look him straight in the eye, boy.”


Carl barely cracked his eye, body shaking and cheeks stained with shame as more
tears fell. Daryl barely returned the boy's look with a pained glance.


“Tell him you’re just fine…” Negan purred, sickeningly sweet, against Carl’s
ear. “…tell him you like it.”


“I-!” Carl moaned as Negan gave him a particularly hard squeeze. “I’m
fine…Daryl–aah! I’m fine!” He squirmed and Negan just couldn’t get enough of
the precious sounds coming out of his little serial killer. “I..mm! I like it.”


As abruptly as Negan had began groping him, he removed his hand and Carl
slumped against him, hiding his face again. “There we go! See, Daryl?” He fixed
the infuriated brunet with a sneer. “All consensual. I’m taking real good care
of your little brother. That is what he is to you, right? Scrawny little bird
you took under wing?”


“I swear if you don't stop touching him–” Daryl growled out.


“Dwight! Come put Daryl back in his box! He needs a time out.” Negan chuckled,
flipping Daryl’s retreating figure off.


As they took off, he looked down at the trembling boy in his lap, face still
tucked into Negan’s shoulder. Well, if that isn’t something. He pushed Carl’s
hair out of his face, taking in his parted lips, now smeared with scarlet
again, and following the tear tracks like dry riverbeds, clinging to his rust
colored freckles.


“Why?” The small teen glared up at him through his tears.


“I told you, baby boy, that was Daryl’s punishment.” Negan wrapped an arm
around Carl’s waist, pulling him close as he dipped his hand between his
thighs, unzipping his jeans and taking up his small cock. He stroked and teased
and pulled at Carl until he was hard again.


“…just stop…” Carl’s voice sounded exhausted, barely audible over the rumble of
the engine as they bounced along the old country road. It was so soft and
fragile, it made lust begin to pool at the base of Negan’s spine, so eager to
take a bite out of that innocence again.


“No.” He said simply. “Daddy isn’t through with you yet.” He continued to
stroke Carl until he felt him shudder against him as he forced another orgasm
from him, spilling all over Negan’s hand. He lifted the hand to Carl’s lips.
“Clean up the mess you’ve made, angel.”


Carl didn’t even look up at him, keeping his lips firmly sealed, but Negan
wasn’t going to budge on this, he was so close to breaking this kid. He was
already like a branch swaying dangerously in the wind, just waiting for the
next gust to knock it loose and send it tumbling to the ground. He smeared the
release across his lips until Carl finally opened his mouth with an irritated
growl and licked his hand clean. Watching that little pink tongue flick out
over his hand had him pressing his growing hard on into Carl’s pert backside.


Once again, he was caught off guard by the little wild child when Carl bit
maliciously into the thumb he had just been licking so sweetly. “What the shit,
kid?!” Negan yanked his hand away, seeing where kitten-sharp teeth had broken
the skin where thumb met palm. Fury washed over him as he spun him around to
straddle his lap, looking at the boy staring right back at him, unwavering and
maintaining fierce eye contact.


“Should I pull over, sir?” The driver intoned, keeping his eyes resolutely on
the road.


“No, Dean, keep going.” Negan ground out, still staring the kid down. The
little fucker. That piercing glare was starting to irritate him. He reached out
and wrapped his hand around Carl’s swan like throat. “Mind telling me what the
fuck that was about?”


Carl didn’t speak, just lifted his chin, jeering at him with a steadfast
pride,taunting Negan to squeeze down harder. The corners of his mouth lifted
minutely and he licked over the bitten out cut at the center of his lip.


Realization clicked into place then. Negan ran his tongue along his teeth as he
searched Carl’s face. So we’re even now, hmm? He breathed a laugh and drug Carl
in for a rough kiss that was more teeth and tongue than lips actually touching.
This time, the boy held his own, pushing at Negan’s tongue with his. Negan
caught that errant tongue between his teeth, reveling in the look of pure panic
that shot across Carl’s face. He bit down gently, teasing, before he released
his hold and settled back down, satisfied that he once again had the upper
hand.




///




Home couldn't come into view quick enough for Carl. He was ready to be off
Negan's lap, ready for the man to take his hands out of his jeans and off his
body. He whimpered, starting to pant again as Negan slowly jerked him off. He
just wanted the torture to be over, even if it was just for a moment. Negan
hadn't let him come since that initial orgasm, his punishment for biting him.


But damn was he glad he did it. It had been worth it to hear that irritated
roar Negan let out when he had sunk his teeth into the older man's thumb. He
only wished he'd been brave enough to bite it off completely.


Negan gave the boy's cock a hard squeeze just as the gates to Alexandria
appeared on the horizon line, making Carl involuntarily buck his hips. Carl's
cock was so hard it was leaking and sore and he hated his body for even
reacting to the other's touch.


“Be my good little boy and no one has to meet Lucille up close and personal,
hmm?” The gentility with which he tucked Carl back into his jeans and did them
up was dizzying. He was constantly keeping Carl teetering on the edge of
kindness and cruelty, never letting him know which way his reactions would
swing. He was unpredictable which made it nearly impossible for Carl to get a
read on him.


Carl nodded as he was sat back onto the bench seat. He refused to acknowledge
his leaking hard on, just left it aching and throbbing in the confines of his
jeans, while he watched Negan approach the gate so they could pull the convoy
through.


///


Alexandria was just as he had left it. Still neat and tidy, perfect houses all
in a row. Some of the lawns even looked freshly trimmed. Anger rose up within
Carl making his chest feel tight and his stomach roil as he lead Negan into his
house. He tried his best to look as calm as he could on the outside, some
semblance of how he normally acted. He briefly set aside what had happened to
him the night before as the smell of an apple pie baking nearby in someone's
kitchen wafted over him. Carl pushed the side door open, surprising Olivia, who
was more than likely watching Judith while his dad wasn't there.


“Where's--?” She whispered hurriedly as she watched Negan strolling about the
house.


“Enid's fine.” Carl assured, following Negan inside.


“Great, great, great!” Negan grinned all cocky as he strutted around, like he
owned the damn place. Well, technically, he may as well at this point. “Where's
Rick?”


“I, uh, he..and, I--” Olivia stuttered out.


“Dooon't care. Where's Rick?” He cut her off, crowding into her space with that
irritating smirk. It didn't take long for his callousness and dry sense of
“humor” to reduce Olivia to tears. Carl wanted to punch him. He turned with a
mock look of surprise and whispered conspiratorially to Carl. “You people
seriously do not have a sense of humor...excuse me, what's your name again?


“O-olivia.” She sniffled, fixing her glasses.


“Right, Olivia…I am sorry for having been so rude to you just now.” The look he
gave Olivia seemed to be genuine, Carl almost believed it himself until he saw
that glint in Negan's eye as they flicked over Olivia's shoulder to him.
Fuckin' psychopath. “Looks like I'm going to be here for a while awaiting your
fearless leaders return and if you’d like…” The older man leaned in closer to
Olivia's ear, but kept his gaze on Carl. “I think it would be enjoyable to
screw your brains you. I mean, if, you know, you’re agreeable to it.”


Carl didn't like watching Negan prey on his friend; Olivia was too soft and
sensitive for his crassness. He felt his pulse spike immediately as Olivia drew
back and slapped Negan. His eye went wide, flicking back and forth between the
two adults.


A Cheshire grin curled the corners of Negan's lips and his voice dropped into
that huskier drawl he used last night. “I am about fifty percent more in to you
now…just sayin’.” Carl was surprised when some petty upset welled within him
over Negan using that voice with just anyone. What? Did I think I was special?
He sauntered away from Olivia, meandering closer to Carl and booped the teen's
nose just to be obnoxious. He grinned when Carl jerked away. “Alright well I'm
just gonna put my feet up and wait for my stuff to get here. Olivia? Would you
be a lamb and make us a little lemonade? Now I know I left you all some of that
good powdered stuff.”


“Well, I’m supposed to be with–“ Olivia started but was again cut off.


“Make it.” Negan's mercurial nature took a shift for the stern now, his posture
and voice leaving no room for argument. “Make it…take your time. Make it good.”
 
The woman quickly turned heel and scurried away. Negan chuckled as he watched
her leave to go do his bidding. The older man turned back to Carl after a beat,
raking his eyes up and down his body and he just knew Negan was scheming
something. He jumped when Negan spoke enthusiastically and clapped his hands.
“All right, kid! Take me on the grand tour.”


Carl rolled his eye and crossed his arms over his chest, not making a move to
go anywhere. He was still pissed. He knew it was written plainly all over his
face, but he couldn't care less about trying to hide it. He watched as
something shifted in Negan's eyes again, settling into that predatory hunger
Carl had become all too familiar with. He refused to back down even as the
other moved in tighter, looming over him.


“Aw, what's the matter, baby boy?” Negan cooed, falsely saccharine. “Did you
get jealous when I hit on your friend? You should know I was only foolin'
around...” He grabbed Carl's hips, dragging their bodies together. Carl turned
his head, pointedly not looking at him. “Don't be jealous, baby, you know
you're the only one I want.”


“Shut the fuck up, asshole.” Carl wrenched himself away from the older man,
feeling heat rise to his cheeks. Was he jealous? Was that what that feeling
was? He'd been so upset seeing Negan's attention focused on someone else, he'd
felt betrayed somehow, like he wasn't good enough. He'd been relieved to see
Olivia leave. He thought at first it was because it meant she was safe now, but
no, he was glad to see her go. Not for the first time today, Carl wondered what
the hell was wrong with him and what this man was doing that was warping him so
horribly.


“Well excuse me all to hell!” Negan threw his hands up in surrender, a playful
twinkle in his eyes. “And watch you're fuckin' mouth, young man. Won't have my
little boy developing a potty mouth.”


“I am notyour boy.” Carl snarked, turning to lead Negan up the stairs. Better
to just get it over with.


“Someone sure is feisty today.” Negan smirked as he followed after the boy.


“This is the game and storage room.” Carl opened the first door on the left at
the top of the stairs. There were a few books lined up on shelves and boxes
with supplies along one wall, a gaming console and TV on the other, and a dart
board was hung up on the back of the closet door. He was about the shut the
door again, but was ushered inside by the older man shoving them both into the
room. He watched curiously as Negan toed out of his boots and stepped onto the
white carpeting, passing Lucille off to Carl.


“Ooh, this is nice.” Negan closed his eyes and sighed, wiggling his toes into
the plush carpet. When he opened his eyes, he stared right at Carl, snapping
his fingers and pointing to the spot right in front of him. “Come here.”


With a huff of indignation, Carl trudged over, dragging the damned bat behind
him. “What?”


“On your knees.”


“W-what?” He let his brave face slip as he was instantly filled with dread. No
no no....


“You heard me. Don't make me make you get down there. We both know it won't be
pleasant.” Negan narrowed his eyes at him, giving him that look. “Did you think
just because you were home you were safe now, Carl? Tsk tsk.”


“No.” He glared at Negan.


“Really? You’re going to refuse me now?” Negan pointed to the window. “In your
little town? Right next to your family and friends? I don't know about you boy,
but I would not want to shit where I sleep.”


Carl bit his lip, willing away the tears he already felt stinging behind his
eye and fell hard on his knees before the older man. He let Lucille fall beside
him, not caring if he “treated her like a lady.” He kept his gaze resolutely on
the floor, tracing nonsensical patterns in the ivory fibers as he heard the
zipper of Negan's jeans sliding down.


“Ah ah, eyes up here.” Negan admonished, wiggling a finger just in Carl's line
of sight.


He took a deep breath and slowly tilted his face upwards. Negan had his cock
out, stroking it languidly to full hardness, the tip mere centimeters from
Carl's lips. Now that it was right there, Carl could see the details of it; it
was long and thick, with a fat, flared head that made him wonder how the hell
that ever fit inside his body. He couldn't decide where to focus, switching his
gaze off and on between the cock in front of him and the man's face.


“Mm, you look good down on your knees for me...been thinking about this since
yesterday with Lucille. You remember, boy? I just--” Negan rocked forward onto
the balls of his feet just like he had with his bat yesterday and brushed the
tip along the boy's full bottom lip. Instantly, Carl's breathing picked up and
he flushed bright pink. “Just open those plump lips for me and let me slide my
dick down your throat...”


Carl made a quiet noise of disapproval and looked away at Negan's words.


“Fuckin' prude.” Negan groused. He bent and grasped Carl's chin with forefinger
and thumb, turning his face back towards him. His thumb grazed the boy's bottom
lip as it slipped into his mouth, toying with his tongue. As drool began to
escape at the corners of his lips, Negan grasped Carl's jaw, thumb on his
tongue and fingers under his chin, and slowly pulled his mouth open. “Say 'ah',
sweetheart.”


He was using that soft, gentle tone that had Carl wanting to follow whatever
directions Negan gave him, like a lamb that lays its head so trustingly against
the chest of the person who will soon put a knife to its throat. Slowly, the
hardened member was pushed into his mouth and his eyes flew up to the older
man's face in nervousness, swallowing thick. Carl furrowed his brows as the
weight of Negan's cock settled on his tongue, filling his mouth with all sorts
of indescribable flavors, something kinda salty, maybe a hint of bitter,
something entirely Negan. He sat frozen, letting Negan move his hips back and
forth, the head of his cock sliding across the flat of Carl's tongue.


“Don't just sit there, move your tongue...” Negan's head fell back on a hoarse
moan when Carl began tentatively lapping at the underside of the head.
“...yeah, angel face, just like that. Gonna push in a little more...” He placed
a hand to the back of Carl's head, holding him right where he wanted as he
pressed in further, head hitting the back of the teen's throat and making him
gag. He carded his fingers through Carl's hair affectionately. “There,
there...now I know how far I can slide my dick in...won't make you gag again.”


Carl felt himself blushing shyly at Negan's tender caresses and gentle voice.
Tears slipped down his cheeks and thank god he had the excuse of choking to
explain them away this time. Why did he have to be gentle at all? Why did Negan
have to fuck with him like this? Why couldn't he just be the monster Carl had
painted him to be in his mind and take what he wanted without a care to Carl's
well being?


The room fell silent then, the time for words had passed and there was only
hushed sounds of Negan's breathing and Carl occasionally gasping for air around
his mouthful. His jaw ached from being open for so long, from accommodating
someone as big as Negan. The hardest thing, though, was behind the obvious lust
and want, there was a devout tenderness with which Negan looked at him the
whole time, like he truly adored Carl and understood what a difficult thing he
was asking of him. Rough hands caressed his cheek, work-toughened fingertips
danced lightly where his mouth stretched wide and each show of gentility made
more tears flow.


I hate you


“Alright, up you go.” Negan withdrew from Carl's mouth and tucked himself back
into his jeans. He tugged the boy up roughly by one arm. “What's next?”


Carl stood on wobbly legs for a moment, grabbing Lucille, confusion rushing
over him. Negan hadn't even...? But why? And why the hell did he care if he did
or didn't? He shook his head and made his way out into the hall. The next room
was the bathroom. He pushed the door open, half expecting Negan to shove him
into the small room like he had with the game room, but he just poked his head
in and made a satisfied grunt before moving on.


After that, was his dad and Michonne's room. The king sized bed, still unmade,
took up most of the space and a dark, lacquered looking dresser rested against
the wall across from the foot of the bed. The matching nightstands were
identical in make, but the items strewn across the tops were as different as
daylight and dark, a glimpse of the private lives of the people that inhabited
the space.


Unsurprisingly, Negan flopped and starfished his body across the whole bed with
a chuckle. Again he wiggled his finger for Carl to come closer, another cocky
grin on his face.


Warily, Carl approached the bed, not sure what to expect. Negan sat up
smoothly, ab muscles flexing under his white shirt, as Carl stood beside him.
He wrapped both hands around the boy's waist and lifted him to straddle his
lap. Negan laid back down and tucked an arm under his head, looking up at Carl,
slipping a hand under his shirt to map out his flat stomach.


Carl felt shy and nervous sitting on top like that. He noticed then, Negan's
erection pressing into him between his thighs. With a mischievous smirk, Negan
worked open Carl's jeans and then his own, bringing their cocks together in one
hand. Carl whimpered and rolled his hips into the hand as Negan began jerking
them both.


“Don't come unless I say you can, am I clear?” The sudden sharp intonation of
Negan's voice had Carl snapping his eye open, veritably standing at attention
to hear what he had said. Carl nodded weakly. “Good boy.”


Dammit. That obnoxious phrase seeped into Carl's skin and suddenly, he found
himself fighting back orgasm, all the tension from not climaxing earlier
rushing the forefront. His body seemed to have a mind of its own and lead him
through this dance, hips undulating, hands splayed across Negan's strong chest.
“Ne—mm...”


Fuck, he was actually about to call out that man's name...


“That's right, say my name...” Negan purred. “...gonna come for me?”


Carl managed another nod as he let out a shaky breath, hips beginning to
stutter.


Negan removed his hand then. “Hmm, I think not...maybe later. Lets go,
princess.” He stood up with Carl still on his lap, making him scrabble for
purchase, narrowly avoiding falling on his tailbone, which, of course, made
Negan chuckle at him like he was an idiot.


Carl flashed him a look of annoyance. What the hell? He couldn't decide if he
was more upset about nearly falling on his ass or from being denied his orgasm.
Again. He looked the older man over before doing up his jeans and walking back
out into the hall.


“This is, uhm, my room...” Carl slowly pushed the door open, the hinges
creaking. His twin bed was pushed up against the wall just below a small bay
window and the bookcases lining the opposite wall were packed full of books,
some he had read, some he had yet to read. The room was still messy, just the
way he had left it, with pajamas and jeans scattered across the floor along
with some comic books and junk food wrappers. He kicked a few things under his
bed to clear a path for them.


He sat on the edge of the bed, rolling Lucille's handle idly across his palms,
while Negan walked around, inspecting everything much more closely than he had
in the other rooms. Negan picked up a few trinkets Carl had collected along the
way, the bullet shell from his first bulls eye since losing his eye, a pretty
river rock Enid had given him from one of their trips over the wall, and lastly
the picture of him and his family from the pub. He was so distracted it would
be easy to just lift Lucille up and--


“This your mom?” Negan had his back to him, so he had no idea what emotion was
on his face, but he sounded serious, cautious even.


“Y-yeah...that's from a trip we took one summer...” Carl looked down at his
feet, swaying back and forth off the edge of his bed, smiling a little at the
memory. “We, ah, got lost and everyone was getting irritable because they were
hungry and then we just happened to stumble across that pub...we were their one
hundredth customers, so the meal was free and they took our picture to put up
above the bar...I remember they gave me this huge sundae--” He cut himself off
quickly, face falling, remembering whose presence he was still sitting in. He
glanced up to see Negan half turned towards him, intently listening to every
word.


“Keep going...it was a good story.” Negan sat the picture face down on the
shelf, turning to fully face Carl now. “Sappy, a little too domestic for my
tastes, but I wanna hear it.” He slowly made his way over to the bed and sat
heavily upon it, resting his forearms on his knees. Carl watched him out of the
corner of his eye, expecting the older man to do some other sexually deviant
act with him. But he didn't, he just sat and listened, his copper flecked eyes
trained on Carl's one flint-blue one. “Go on.”


“...the owner's wife gave me this huge sundae...it was covered in whipped cream
and sprinkles...” It was something unique to be the subject of Negan's intense
gaze, to have all his attention turned on you. It made Carl feel special,
important somehow, and his heart hammered with it. He could see how so many
people were so eager to fall in line behind this man. “I had a stomach ache the
whole way home...didn't eat ice cream for weeks after...”


Somehow sharing this memory, one of the few he remembered so clearly from his
life before, felt more intimate than anything else that had happened between
them. He felt oddly vulnerable, like he'd handed yet another precious thing
over to this man without even realizing it.


In the kitchen again, Negan meandered about, bare feet plodding against the
hardwood, looking in the cupboards and testing the burners on the stove. He
leaned against the granite counter top of the island and flipped the handle of
the faucet, grinning when the water ran warm, steam emanating from the basin.
“Aren't you guys some lucky sons of bitches? Its almost like you Steppford
fuckers have managed to avoid the goddamn apocalypse!”


Carl didn't rise to his bait this time, just shuffled his weight from foot to
foot. He was not about to share more of his personal life with this man. He
wouldn't talk about how just before this, just before Alexandria, he and his
family had almost gone feral, barely surviving out there on their own. Wouldn't
talk about the tornado they narrowly avoided getting drawn into while walkers
scratched and clawed at the door of the barn they had been so incredibly lucky
to stumble upon. Wouldn't talk about the muck and grime they had trekked
through, the people he himself had killed that brought him to this moment. Carl
knew, better than most of the adults in the surreal suburbia of Alexandria,
what life was like out there. No. Just let Negan keep talking. Maybe if Carl
just didn't react, he'd shut up and they could move on.


Negan seemed to sense the defiance coming off him and strode over to him, a
slow, predatory gait, like he was circling around Carl. He really was the human
personification of the big bad wolf. A large hand came up, grasping the back of
his neck in a firm hold, like a pup taken by the scruff. The older man pushed
him down hard against the island, fingers biting into the trapezius muscle
running up the side of his neck. The cool granite surface fogged with each
breath. Negan settled in behind him, hips pressed into his backside. Carl
didn't have to see his face to know he was probably wearing one of those
irritating smug grins of his.


“Stop...not here...” Carl tried to reason. Now that he had successfully
navigated around one of Negan's pitfalls, he was determined not to fall into
another. “...anyone could walk in.”


“Aren't you going to say please?” Negan's voice had a hint of that boisterous,
showmanship he was so fond of. “Maybe I want them to see us like this? Give em
a little show, like with Daryl...”


“No!” Carl felt his stomach churn as he remembered the encounter with Daryl
earlier that morning. He'd never be able to look him in the eye ever again. If
Daryl even wanted anything to do with him anymore. “C'mon...I don't want anyone
fighting...I--”


Just as Negan opened his mouth to speak, a rustling sound came down the stairs
and Carl's blood ran cold. Soon the rustling became a steady, dull tapping.
Judith's hands on the side of her crib. Carl knew that sound better than the
throaty growls of the undead. He scrunched his one eye closed hoping Negan
would just ignore it.


Negan yanked him up by shirt collar and shoved Carl towards the stairs. “What
are you hiding up there, boy?”


“Nothing...its just--”


“Do not fucking bullshit me, Carl.” His voice was steady, but upset was
apparent in the undertone of his cadence. He pushed Carl to lead them back up
the stairs to the door he had skipped over, giving him a look that let him know
he noticed his earlier deception. “What about this one?”


“Oh its just a water heater–“ Carl started, but was cut off with a chuckle.


“Are you serious kid? C’mon.” Negan smiled, knowing whatever was inside was
obviously of great import to the teen. He slowly turned the handle and pushed
the door open.


Judith stood upright in her crib, hands patting along the edge to let whoever
know she was up and ready to get out. She looked up at Negan with that little
toddler scowl of confusion, but didn't back away or cry when he reached out and
picked her up.


“Oh-ho my! Look at this little angel.” Negan cooed as he nestled Judith into
his chest.


Carl tracked every movement, watching how he held his baby sister, ready to act
if the sociopath even hinted at hurting her. He quickly glanced down the hall
to his room where Lucille still rested on the floor, forgotten by Negan for
now. But Negan just held the toddler tight, swaying from foot to foot and
tickling her chin. He made all sorts of dove-toned babbling sounds like any
other person would in the presence of a baby.


Negan held her one armed as he slipped out of his leather jacket, switching
Judith from hip to hip as he did so. He tossed the jacket at Carl who barely
caught it before it hit him in the face. He scowled at Negan as he gripped the
leather hard enough to squeak.




///




Sat out on the porch, the damned lemonade finally made, Negan held a sleepy
Judith to his chest, attracting the attention he so loved again. People walked
around the porch casting odd, sometimes aggressive, looks at the strange man
sat so calmly holding a baby in their midst. A few people were going out of
their way, walking nowhere near their homes, to catch a glimpse of Negan. The
asshole probably felt like a rock star.


The longer Carl was around him, even though it had only been a couple of days
now, the more easily he could see through the leader of the Saviors. He was
still a loose canon, doing whatever the hell he wanted on a whim, but Carl was
pretty sure he had the basics of Negan's inner workings figured out. He wanted
respect, that one was easy, and he liked instilling fear in others in a way
that left a sure and lasting reminder not to cross him again, which Carl also
had been made painfully aware of. He wanted his people taken care of and
provided for, wanted them safe. It was scary finding similarities between Negan
and his father.


Negan also seemed to have a bone deep craving for attention, which Carl
recognized in himself. The kind of attention they wanted was different for
sure, but for some reason, Negan struck him as being just as lonely as he was.
Surrounded by people but generally avoided out of fear or awkwardness; Carl for
his eye, Negan for being Negan.


Carl just wanted that one person that understood him, understood even the
darkness and blood lust soaked anger that sat dormant, nestled deep in his
chest; someone that he could tell any and everything to and it made him nearly
break out in a cold sweat to even consider the possibility of that person being
Negan. He tried to tell himself that relating to Negan in any way was his
psyche's way of coping with what happened, of trying to paint Negan in a
brighter light and not as the monster Carl knew him to be, but that felt like
bullshit, even to himself. He knew he was fucked up.


“Mmhm…I might just have to stay here.” Negan playing with Judith brought Carl
back to the present. He moved the clearly sleepy toddler around, looking her in
the eye. “You know, I was thinking about what you said earlier, Carl. Maybe it
is stupid keeping you and your dad alive.” He didn't even look at Carl the
whole time, which in all the craziness, he somehow knew it was an idle threat,
more posturing to keep Carl on his toes, but he was beyond it. “I mean, why am
I trying so hard? Maybe I should just bury you both down in one of those flower
beds, huh?” Negan chuckles, exaggerating his expression to try and make Judith
smile. “And then I could just settle down into the suburbs. What do you think
about that?” He pressed little kisses to Judith's cheeks and nose, letting his
guard down just a little.




///




Carl stood in the kitchen, in an apron, awkwardly rolling out dough while Negan
stood over the stove, cooking spaghetti and sauce. He's not entirely sure when
things took a turn for the “sappy and domestic”, as the man himself had so
disdainfully put it earlier, but here they were. He supposed he should be
grateful that Negan has something else to focus on instead of himself or
Judith.


“Damn, that smells good.” Negan wafted the aroma of the sauce upwards. He
scooped up a little spoonful and took a taste, a little hum of approval and he
turned to Carl, offering him the spoon now. “Want a taste?”


Carl leaned away, not really hungry. He gave Negan a small scowl and went back
to making the rolls.


“Open your mouth for me, baby boy.” The older man said smoothly, an easy smile
playing at his lips.


“No thank you.” Carl rebuffed again.


“No thank you, who?”


Goddamit...


“No thank you...” Carl glanced around quickly, making sure its just them.
“...daddy.”


Negan raised an brow, still smirking. “Growing boys need their vitamins and
minerals, open up.” When Carl didn't make a move to obey, he dropped his voice,
and now its a command. “Open.”


Carl swallowed hard, looking up at Negan again. Slowly, he opened his mouth,
just enough to take a taste and Negan smiled in approval. The older man
gingerly brought the spoon up, slipping it passed his lips. He couldn't fight
the blush creeping up his neck as he's reminded briefly of that moment in the
game room. Sauce dripped onto his chin and he reached up to catch it, but Negan
moved first, leaning in and Carl thinks he's going to kiss him, but instead,
Negan licked his chin clean, a broad sweep of the flat of his tongue. Carl
stood there, stock still, not sure what just happened.


“I am one hell of a cook, don't you think, angel face?” Negan strolled back
over to the range, giving Carl his back.


///


Carl began setting the table under the watchful scrutiny of their unwelcome
guest. The flatware clattered, clinking lightly against the plates. He was
still wearing the damn apron at Negan's request. It felt too much like he was
trying to play house, sitting down for dinner, Negan the dad at the head of the
table, Carl his little wife.


As Carl circled around the table making the extra place setting, Negan grabbed
him by the strings of the apron and drug him into his lap. He placed a hand to
the low of his back and nuzzled the curls at Carl's ear, whispering. “You look
so damn cute in that apron, prissing around here.”


“I'm not prissing.” Carl glowered, trying to get off of the man's lap. He
looked nervously to Olivia as she came up to the table with more lemonade,
holding a sleeping Judith. She gave him an odd look that she tried to cover up
with worry. Carl tried to ignore it and nodded reassuringly at the older woman.


Negan grabbed Carl's chin with forefinger and thumb, again making his heart
pound. No, not here, not now. Not in front of everyone. He knew he had to look
desperate because Negan's eyes twinkled with unspent laughter.


“...please...” It was barely a whisper, his voice wavering with that one word.
Negan's rough thumb caressed his bottom lip, brown eyes tracking the movement
and Carl was slowly righted, feet touching the floor again. His heart was in
his throat as he took the seat to Negan's left.


The meal was a long, uncomfortable affair, Negan was the only one who ate more
than a few mouthfuls and conversation went over about as well as the food had.
After everyone was finished eating, Negan sent Olivia to look for something
stupid and made sure she took Judith with her, leaving him and Carl alone
again.


Carl cleared the dinner plates and set them in the sink. He kept glancing back
at the older man who was uncharacteristically quiet, still sat in his chair at
the dinner table. The teen hung up his apron and made his way towards the door,
remembering their lemonade glasses were still on the porch. And he could check
in on everyone else and make sure they were doing okay while he was out there.


“Don't.”


That one word made Carl freeze, hand just hovering over the door knob. Dammit,
he had been so close. “I...I was just--”


“You were just trying to get away from me, little boy, but I am not through
with you yet.” Negan stalked into the foyer, advancing on Carl until he backed
into a wall, trapped and looking up at Negan wide eyed. He grasped Carl's
wrists and drug them up over his head, pinning them to the wall. There's a
moment where they're just looking at each other, breaths fanning the other's
face, both searching for something.


Then Negan's lips were on his and he was kissing him with that passionate
voraciousness. The pace was slower this time, Negan taking the time to kiss
Carl deep and kiss him well. He sucked gently on Carl's lips, tracing the edges
with his tongue before pushing past his lips to taste him. One hand remained on
Carl's wrists, keeping him trapped, but Carl knew that Negan's hold was loose
and that if he wanted, he could easily push the older man off.


If he wanted...


Did he want?


What  did he want?


A hand slid behind Carl's knee, hitching his leg up on Negan's hip. He gasped
into the other's mouth as their erections pressed into one another. Negan
grabbed Carl's ass, dragging him closer, and expertly rolled his hips, grinding
down into him. Carl was painfully hard and aching in an instant and it was
difficult to breathe with Negan assaulting all his senses at once.


Negan pulled back with a growl that sent shivers down Carl's spine. He took in
the sight of the flush faced boy beneath him, eyes hazy yet sharp all at once.
With one hand, he undid Carl's jeans, roughly pushing them down along with his
underwear, exposing his hard on to the open air. Negan grasped Carl's erection
with the pads of his first two fingers and thumb, stroking him slowly, making
him moan. The older man smirked seeing how he affected Carl and Carl just
wanted to punch that arrogant grin right off his face. He released Carl's
erection and slid his fingers down between his cheeks.


“Still open for me, baby boy...little hole all stretched out and hungry.”
Negan's voice was gravelly and low and made Carl shiver as his breath ghosted
across his neck. His beard tickled Carl as he sucked marks into his pale skin
and scraped his teeth over the prominent tendon of his neck.


Carl only whimpered and writhed, fighting the touch to his entrance, but as
Negan's fingers continued to rub and push, Carl found himself pushing back,
trying to get those fingers inside him. He felt half out of his mind, but his
body was so keyed up and desperate for release, he would've been willing to do
just about anything to get it.


A cold, predatory smile slid easily into place on Negan's face, a mischievous
flash of dimples and white teeth. He spun Carl around so they were now back to
chest, in front of the full length mirror by the door. He grabbed Carl's jaw,
forcing him to look at himself in the mirror. “You see this?” He pointed to
Carl's hard on. “This tiny, throbbing dick? Its for me. I touched you and your
little prick stood straight the fuck up at attention!”


Carl trembled, closing his eye in defeat. He was right, Negan was right about
everything. He knows this is all fucked up, but in that moment, he wanted Negan
to make him feel good again. He wanted Negan to take him apart again. He wanted
Negan.


Negan's teeth grazed over his earlobe, raising gooseflesh. He brought his
fingers to his mouth and coated them in spit before pressing them inside.
“...all you have to do is ask, Carl...and I'll make you feel good.”


Carl tried to stifle a loud moan through his nose and pressed back into those
fingers, but they weren't enough, Negan wasn't even trying to make him feel
good, the fingers lying still inside him, not trying to find  that spot.  He
needed it, his cock throbbed an aching reminder of how he'd been relentlessly
brought to the edge all day. Negan removing the fingers entirely finally made
him cave. Tears pricked the back of his eye because he knows, he knows he's
ruined before the words even leave his mouth. “...please...please Negan, make
me come...”


“Gladly, sweetheart.” Negan pushed his fingers back inside Carl, the dry tug at
his insides grounding him, feeling like the punishment he deserves for wanting
this. He needed it to hurt. Maybe if it hurt badly enough, he'd never want this
again.


He glanced at the door, picturing his dad or Michonne walking in, finding him
like this, not five feet from the front door, getting fucked open by the man
they hated the most. He let his eye slip shut as he tried to push the thought
away, but his cock pulsed at the thrill of the danger.


“Oh, Carl!” Negan gave a throaty chuckle. “Did you just think about mommy and
daddy walking in here and catching us like this?” He'd forgotten they were
standing in front of a mirror and that Negan could see every move he made. “And
you got harder?”


Carl had never felt more ashamed in his life. He knew he had some pretty
twisted kinks, but to have it pointed out... He wanted to deny it, but he knew
there was no point; Negan had already seen.


“God, kid, you are fucked up.” Negan's words echoed his own thoughts, ringing
around in his head since yesterday. He added a third finger and finally,
finally pressed deep, hitting that spot that made fireworks go off behind
Carl's eyelid. Negan's voice took on a huskier tone that Carl now associated
with sex. “But you are my kind of fucked up.”


His heart thumped hard in chest, almost could feel his rib cage collapse and
open back up with the force of it. Negan had sounded almost proud of him. Carl
couldn't understand why of all the fucked up shit Negan had been spouting off
at him since their first encounter, those few words felt the closest to the
truth, to an admittance, made his chest ache.


Negan encouraged him onto the floor, down on his hands and knees, the heels of
Carl's palm scraping the rough fibers of the mat in front of the door. He
squeezed his eye shut, body shivering hard as it hung over the precipice of
waiting while Negan moved around behind him. The telltale slide of a zipper
filled Carl with anticipation, knowing it was going to hurt...knowing it was
eventually going to feel amazing. Negan's fingers returned to his hole,
spreading something slick across it, but not entering him again. He wanted to
look over his shoulder, but he forced himself to trace the looping 'Welcome' on
the mat with his eye. Blunt heat pressed to his hole and Carl held his breath,
waiting for the stretch and burn.


“Breathe...”


Negan's voice was soft again and it was going to turn Carl into a quaking mess
if he kept it up. He pressed into Carl in one smooth motion, pulling out almost
as soon as he bottomed out. It hurt like hell, making Carl cry out as he was
filled and again when he withdrew, his body still sore from being used so
roughly. Negan didn't take his time like he had yesterday. There was an urgency
to his movements, hips thrusting hard, flesh slapping against flesh. Carl could
feel every inch of the older man inside him, the thickness of his cock, the
large cockhead. His knees burned as they rubbed across the rough carpet, the
mat shifting beneath him, making it hard to remain upright.


“Goddamn...” Negan groaned out behind him, grabbing Carl's hips in a bruising
grip. He pressed a hand to the low of Carl's back, encouraging him to deepen
the arch, lift his hips higher so he could get deeper. It was like the man
wanted to own every part of him, wanted to become part of his anatomy. Fucking
him wasn’t enough, he wanted to own Carl, inside and out.


Carl clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to keep all the noises inside, he
didn't want anyone outside hearing him, he didn't even want to hear himself.
Negan reached over him and pried the hand from his mouth, twisting the arm
behind his back. “Ah, ah, angel, I wanna hear all those cute sounds you
make...I want everyone to know how good I fuck you...”


Carl winced at the strain and sucked his lower lip into his mouth, trying to
reopen the wound, to give himself something else to focus on other than the
dull pain radiating from between his legs and now his shoulder. But the bite
was already too far healed.


“C'mere, princess.” Negan sat back on his heels bringing Carl up with him, so
he was straddling the older man from behind. He splayed his fingers across
Carl's stomach, admiring the arching contours of his body in the mirror. Carl
barely opened his eye to watch what Negan was doing. Carl yelped in surprise
when his nipples were pinched and plucked, turning them a bright, rose pink.
Negan fisted Carl's hair, turning him to face his own reflection. From this
angle, he could see a peek of Negan's cock disappearing inside him and God how
it made him shake down to his core. “Look at yourself, Carl...look how wrecked
you look, baby boy...look how fuckin' pretty you are bouncing on daddy's dick.”


Carl whined, embarrassed and needy, his skin flushing a deeper shade of red.
His mouth fell open on a breathy moan as Negan bucked up hard into him. He
could see how this could be incredibly erotic for someone, watching themselves
getting fucked open. But as it was, he was way too shy to see himself like this
and turned his face away from the display in the mirror.


“No, you gotta watch this Carl...you begged me to fuck you like this.” Negan
released his grip on Carl's hair, instead wrapping a hand around his neck and
jaw, turning him back to face the mirror. Tears slipped from the corner of his
eye, being forced to watch himself. “I want to see exactly what you look like
when you come apart.” Negan took Carl's dick in hand, finally giving it the
attention he desperately wanted.
Carl's hips jerked up into the older man's work toughened hand. It was starting
to feel good, too good. His whimpers and moans grew louder, his hips losing
their rhythm. A large hand wrapped tight around the base of his cock, knocking
the air right out of him mid-moan. He choked as his orgasm was denied once
again. “No!” He was nearing full blown sobs. He needed it so badly.


“Tell me, Carl-- who's your daddy?” Negan breathed, his scruff scratching at
Carl's soft cheek.


Carl closed his eye and shook his head, trying to look away again. Please,
don't make me...


“Carl.” His name was growled out, the older man's voice dark and stern. “Who.
Is. Your. Daddy?” Negan punctuated each word by slamming him down on his cock,
hitting right on that sensitive spot.


Carl keened brokenly every time that spot was struck, fresh tears pouring from
his eye. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He slowly fluttered
his eyelashes, opening his eyes and locking his gaze with Negan's through their
reflection. His voice was a hoarse whisper, sounding more like sobs than words.
“...you are...Negan. Negan in my daddy.”


Something positively feral came over Negan, his eyes gleaming with animalistic
hunger at those words and Carl couldn't tear his eyes away if he tried. He
needed the attention, needed to see the sway he had over Negan. He felt a dark,
twisted sense of power in that, at being able to reduce the leader of the
Saviors to a beast of base needs, all of that intoxicating attention focused on
taking this little nobody boy from Alexandria.


“Damn fuckin' skippy I am.” Negan began stroking him quick and dirty, not
knowing how much longer they had before being interrupted. He wrapped a strong
arm around Carl, curling across his chest and shoulders, holding him upright
and keeping him still. “Come for me, baby boy...gotta hurry before someone
catches us...” His smirk was downright filthy.


Carl arched further back into him, reaching up to dig his nails into Negan's
shoulder, making the older man groan, leaving long scratches on his tanned
skin. A few of the scratches leaked scarlet, blood welling up into garnet beads
along the narrow lines. He never dropped his gaze, looking right into Negan's
eyes as he shouted his release. He knew he was loud, everyone in the
surrounding area probably heard him, but he couldn't seem to care as his cock
twitched hard, come ceaselessly spurting over Negan's hand. Instantly, he felt
boneless, thighs tremulous trying to maintain being upright and he fell
forward, ass in the air, his elbows hitting the floor hard.


“Good boy, Carl...fuck, baby...” Negan pounded into him, bouncing Carl off his
cock, making him whimper from the over stimulation. The older man came with a
loud groan, a growled out word sounding like Carl's name and he could feel his
cock twitch deep inside him, filling him up. Carl watched Negan's body shudder,
abs clenching, strong thigh muscles shaking with a slight tremor. He pulled out
gently enough and collapsed in a tired heap beside the teen. Carl let himself
fold and fall as well, flipping onto his back and staring up at the ceiling, an
almost mirror image of how things had ended yesterday.


As the peach-pink fuzziness of orgasm wore off, Carl began to feel the acrid
twinge of bile creeping up the back of his throat. All his negative thoughts
towards himself bombarded him combining with what had just happened. He wanted
to scream. He wanted to kill something, wished he could just get up and hop
over the wall and go on a walker killing spree. He slowly turned to face the
only person he hated more than he hated himself. Negan looked back at him with
a lazy curiosity.


“I hate you.” Carl ground out in a harsh whisper.


Negan laughed low and rumbling, reaching over and thumbing Carl's bottom lip,
something Carl was beginning to think was a small obsession. “Baby, you just
wish you could.”




///




Almost as soon as they were dressed, there was a knock at the door, startling
them both. Can't he get five fucking minutes? He was pretty sure something
pretty axis tilting had just happened between himself and Carl and he wanted to
have a little chat with the teen about it, but he supposed this was just how
things were. He gave Carl a last look, standing there looking so small despite
everything he knew the kid was more than capable of. “Later.” Negan grumbled,
grabbing Lucille and throwing the door open.


“Hi.” A younger man stood on the threshold, some sort of liquor in hand. Negan
glanced back at Carl, narrowly catching the small glare he offered the
newcomer. “I'm Spencer Monroe. I don't think we've officially met.”


Negan stepped outside, closing the door on his little serial killer, later, he
told himself, and joined Spencer on the porch for drinks. The guy was a real
ass-kisser, in the vein of that sniveling mess from Hilltop, Gregory. His words
felt oily, deceptive, a true people pleaser. Maybe before, he would've been
considered charming, but to Negan, he was too soft, weak.


Spencer jumped just like the trained monkey Negan thought he was at the mention
of pool, telling him the neighbors had a pool table in their garage and was
more than enthusiastic about dragging it outside at the Savior's behest. Negan
smirked as circled the pool table, ready to make the break shot.


“I could never do this with Rick. He would just be standing there scowling,
giving me that annoying side-eye he gives me.” He groused, more belly aching
than actual complaining.


“That’s actually what I came to see you about.” Spencer made sure to look Negan
in the eye as he spoke. He appreciated it, but he didn't much care. “I want to
talk to you about Rick.”


Negan fixed him with an incredulous look, corners of his mouth barely lifting.
“Alright Spencer, talk to me…talk to me about Rick.” He lined up and made the
break, sinking a couple in the process. Pool was one of the few things he
enjoyed back at the Sanctuary in their drying wrack room turned bar. He glanced
up towards the porch, catching sight of his boy standing there watching them,
Olivia suddenly at his side. He could tell Carl was agitated, but it seemed to
be directed at Spencer for the time being and not himself. He'd take the little
victories.


“I get what you’re trying to do here.”


He forced himself to turn his attention back to the snake oil salesman and
their game.


“I’m not saying I agree with your methods, but you're building a network.
You’re making people contribute for the greater good. It makes sense.” Spencer
squared his shoulders as he finally got to the fucking point of his ass-kissing
parade. “But you should know that Rick Grimes has a history of not working well
with others.”


Out of the corner of his eye, Carl bristled. Such a little kitten, he mused.
“Is that so?” Negan drawled.


Spencer made his case well enough, but Negan just grew increasingly annoyed
with what was essentially a whiny, entitled brat pitching a hissy fit. He
didn't like whiners, never had, as a gym teacher, he was just paid to deal with
them before which, still, didn't make it suck any less ass. He knew Spencer
Monroe was a weak link, easy prey; he didn't even seem to notice Negan slowly
moving closer to him, getting within striking distance.


“I am my mother’s son. I can be the leader she was. That’s what this place
needs. That’s what you need.” Spencer gave him a serious, stern look, probably
some poor imitation of the one his father used to give him.


“So I should put you in charge– that’s what you’re saying?”


“We’d be much better off.”


Carl was practically seething, looking like the heavenly wrath he'd read angels
were supposed to have in the Bible. He watched the teen reflexively reaching
down for his hunting knife, slender fingers clenching at his side.


“You know, I’m thinking Spencer. I’m thinking how Rick threatened to kill me,
how he clearly hates my guts. But he is out there right now, gathering shit for
me to make sure I don’t hurt any of the fine people that live here. He is
swallowing his hate and getting shit done.” Negan chuckled, setting his stick
down. “That takes guts.” He advanced on Spencer, getting right up into his
face. “And then there’s you…the guy who waited for Rick to be gone so he could
sneak over and talk to me, to get me to do his dirty work, so he could take
Rick’s place. So I gotta ask–if you wanna take over, why not just kill Rick
yourself and just take over?”


“What? What? I didn’t–I don’t–“ Spencer immediately started back pedaling. All-
American, pretty boys like him never wanted their darkness exposed so they
could always be the apple of everybody's eye.


“You know what I’m thinking?” Negan raised his voice, using that authoritarian
tone that made his men fall in line faster than the promise of extra points,
letting the other man know just how fucked he was. “ ‘cause I have a guess.” He
leaned just that much closer, closing that gap of a few inches between them.
“Its because you got no guts.” At that, Negan drew his Bowie knife and buried
it deep in Spencer's stomach, dragging the blade through the sinewy muscle of
this abdomen. The feel of warm blood gushing over his fingers never ceased to
be satisfying. He stood over Spencer as his entrails fell from him like a gory
curtain call. “Well, how embarrassing—you do have guts! They were inside you
the whole time.”


The echoing bang of a shot being fired had his ears ringing. “Shit! What the
shit?!” He turned and glared at the Latin-looking girl who had taken aim at
him. Arat was on her in an instant, good attack dog that she was. “You just
tried to kill me?! You shot Lucille!”


“She got in the way,” she spat venomously.


“What is this?” Negan bent to examine the shell casing from the spent bullet.
“Little bad boy is made from scratch? Look at those crimps.” He tried to reason
with her, he really did. He hated punishing women, especially pretty ones like
her, but lessons needed to be learned, no exceptions. When he asked her twice
who made the bullet and both times she lied, claiming she had done it, he knew
he had to step it up. A cut to her face didn't affect her, so maybe she was
like his little serial killer, not afraid for her own safety, but someone
else's...”Fine, have it your way. Arat...kill somebody.”


Lightening fast, Arat drew her gun, taking aim and the girl screamed for her to
stop. Negan's eyes went wide as he followed her aim to the porch where Carl
stood. He didn't want his little cowboy to go like this, no he deserved better,
a hero's death, just like the old westerns. But he couldn't move, couldn't sway
Arat's decision without showing weakness. He knew his men had already caught on
to how special Carl was to him. All of this flashed through his mind in a
matter of seconds as Arat pulled the trigger.


When Olivia fell beside Carl, he could ignore the angry look the boy sent his
way, because hell, at least he would live to see another day. Shit, he must be
getting sentimental in his old age.


The shot hadn't even stopped echoing around the neighborhood when Rick came
rushing up. “We had an agreement!”


“Rick!” Oh, this guy. Rick was just too fun to fuck with. Got so riled up over
nothing. He sauntered closer to the leader of Alexandria, spinning one hell of
a yarn about how kind and merciful Negan was being. Told him about Carl,
omitting the worst of it, of course, stowing it away for use later should Rick
ever really step out of line. Told him about Spencer and his conspiracy to take
the throne and claim the rinky-dink Burger King crown of King of Alexandria.
Olivia, he really had no excuse for, but that didn't stop him from making a few
jokes about the woman's weight. He really didn't mind Olivia, she'd been nice
enough, but again, he had a reputation to uphold.


“Your shit's waiting for you at the gate. You should just go.” Rick informed
him, parroting back Carl's words from not that long ago.


“Sure thing, Rick...right after I find the guy or gal that made this bullet.”


It didn't take long to suss out the true maker of the bullet. An overweight
asshole with a mullet. Guy trembled worse than fat Joseph around Negan, which
just made him smile. He rounded the man up along with his followers, barking
out a quick “Lets move out!”


Negan paused in the middle of the street, Lucille resting on his shoulder,
turning to look back at Carl still standing on the porch near Olivia's body. He
guessed they'd never have that talk he wanted. Hell, after this, especially
after telling Rick about his bad-ass son's little assassination attempt, he'd
probably never see Carl again. And Jesus fucking Christ it shouldn't bother him
as much as it does! His skin itches uncomfortably as their eyes meet.


Negan strode over to the house, pushing past Rick, and took the steps two at a
time until he was standing on the porch right before the boy. He searched that
one flint-blue eye for something, anything, he didn't really know what. He
knows he should say something, at least ruffle the kid's feathers, get him all
pissed before he goes, but he says nothing. No words come as this moment passes
between them. He reaches up and cups Carl's cheek, caressing his bottom lip
with his thumb, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake, Spencer's blood still
fresh on his hands.


Do you understand?


Carl opens his mouth, pink tongue darting out to lick at the blood as he looks
right back at Negan. There's something about the depth of his lake water blue
eye, the intensity of his gaze, that lets him know, he knows why he killed
Spencer and who exactly he killed him for.


I understand.


Nothing shows you care quite like committing murder for someone.




///


Carl watched the leader of the Saviors walking away, that irritating swagger to
his step. His lip still tingled where Negan had touched him. He had been so
sure Negan was going to kiss him right there, but he didn't. And Carl, for a
moment, found himself wishing he had. He wasn't sure what exactly he was
expecting to come of all of this, he knew it wouldn't last and he didn't even
want to delve into the messed up-ness of his desire for things to have not come
to an end yet.


“Carl!” His dad raced up the steps to him, looking him over from head to toe.
“Are you alright?”


“Yeah, dad, I'm fine.” He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “Its not my
blood.”


Rick studied him for a long moment. Carl could see the questions and words he
desired to have with him all playing across his features. Why the hell would
you go after him on your own?! How could you be so foolish?! Why did he touch
you like that? But in the end, what came out of his mouth was “I'm going to
kill that man.” and he pulled Carl close into a one armed hug, hand on the back
of his neck.


Before, Carl would've shared his dad's sentiment, would've been standing right
beside him, but now...Now, Carl wasn't so sure he wanted Negan dead. He knew he
didn't necessarily want to kill him, but he didn't want anyone else to kill him
either. As Rick turned them around to take them inside, Carl was lost in
thought and tripped on the welcome mat, staring down at the looping 'Welcome'
printed in the middle, the tint of red in one corner in the exact shape of the
scrape on his knee. He tried to recall the mental map he had made of the
Sanctuary and the roads that lead back to the front gate.
 
End Notes
     I wasn't sure if I should tag this as non-con because to me, its just
     very very dubious consent, but if you would appreciate a non-con tag,
     let me know. Again, you attract more bees with sugar, so just
     politely let me know without bee-rating me!
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