Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2746943.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Walking_Dead_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Rick_Grimes/Carl_Grimes
  Character:
      Rick_Grimes, Carl_Grimes
  Additional Tags:
      Parent/Child_Incest, Underage_Sex, Anal_Sex, Rimming
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-12-13 Words: 4724
****** Moving On ******
by RickGrimes
Summary
     Prompt: Rick in his grief after Lori’s death starts noticing more of
     Lori in Carl. He finds himself wanting to be with him. Rick is kind
     of disgusted by these feelings, but Carl, while rather innocent and
     unsure, wants nothing more than to comfort his father.
It was more than a struggle for Rick to deal with Lori's death. Being with his
wife while she passed may have made it easier, but maybe not. Having to infer
what exactly had transpired by the looks on Maggie’s and Carl’s faces was
arguably worse than just having witnessed it himself. He was helpless to act.
Could Rick have done something if he had been there with Carl and Maggie? If
Carol had been there to deliver Judith like she’d been practicing, would
everything have turned out okay? Rick couldn’t say. He kept replaying the
events of the day in his mind trying to discern if he could’ve acted
differently or if a better outcome could’ve transpired. He knew it was
unhealthy to blame himself, but it’s what he deserved, in his opinion. All he
seemed to be doing was failing—himself, the group and, most importantly, his
son. Carl was understanding, but Rick didn’t want to abuse his son’s kindness.
He had to remember that the boy had lost his mother; he wasn’t the only one
suffering a loss. If Rick kept one part of himself together, it would be the
part that looked after Carl. He was a father first.
Grieving was physically and emotionally exhausting. Rick had everyone looking
to him for direction, but he couldn't even think, let alone lead. What good was
he to anyone in the group when he had trouble remembering what he felt like
before the pain. That being said, he didn’t want to lose his leadership either.
Daryl was there to back him up, and nobody else wanted to step up to the plate.
Rick’s position was safe, but he didn’t really care. What good was it to him to
be the leader if he had no family—nothing to live for? He and Lori hadn't been
on the best of terms, but that didn't make it easy to lose his wife. Death was
death. How could he not be at least sad for his children? Judith would never
know her mother. That was the tragedy they’d have to live.
Above everything else and everyone else was Carl. It was almost cruel that this
was when his son needed him most: when he was the most incapable of being there
for the boy. Rick was lost in his own mind. He knew he couldn't let his boy
down, but he couldn't look at his son without being reminded of Lori and his
failures. Rick couldn’t bear for Carl to seem like this either. Weak. Defeated.
He could see the resemblance between Lori and Carl in Carl's facial and verbal
expressions as well as his mannerisms. Carl was reserved so it wasn't
constantly in Rick's face, but it was noticeable to him no matter how long he
was around his son. The way Rick felt when looking at Carl was constantly
transforming. At first the sadness in the boy’s features reminded him of how
many mistakes he was making and how inadequate he was. Then it was Lori who he
saw in Carl’s face which was even tougher because it was the reminder of her
death and how he’d been unable to save her. As time passed after Lori’s death,
Rick’s recognition of her in Carl’s features turned into something less
regretful and sorrowful and more desiring. It made Rick miss Lori, but not her
physical presence necessarily just the love and closeness she provided. Carl
was the closest person to him now—Lori wasn’t coming back—and the boy was like
a link to his wife too. So many confusing feelings were mixing together and
making Rick think things he wasn’t supposed to be thinking. One of the sickest
thoughts was that Carl already belonged to him anyways, but he didn’t dare try
to justify that.
A few weeks had already passed since Lori’s death. Rick was still finding it
hard to cope with, but he was managing. A blessing and a curse was watching
Carl handle Judith. The boy took care of the girl like he was her parent. Rick
had never seen anything more endearing and it only served to reinforce the
feelings he’d been having and emphasize the similiarties between Carl and Lori.
“You’re good with her,” Rick complimented his son.
Carl smiled, “Nah.”
“No, you are. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you help out so
much,” Rick paused, “I know I’m not always the most available. I depend on you
more than you know, Carl.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Carl frowned. He didn’t really want
his dad to see how much the compliment meant to him, but Rick saw the smile
that spread across Carl’s face when he thought the man had his back turned.
Rick hadn’t mentioned that seeing Carl with Judith reminded him of when Lori
used to hold Carl.
The more Carl nurtured Judith, the stronger Rick’s feelings towards the boy
grew. All of the reinforcement of his feelings was becoming overwhelming. All
of the strongest emotions a man could feel were all directed to one
person—Carl. Rick felt love for Carl as a son. The man was devoted to
protecting the boy. As the boy cared for Judith, Rick inevitably started to see
him as a mate. Then there was the fact that Carl was Rick’s heroic counterpart,
another survivor, and his last family. All of those strong emotions and
relationship labels that bonded him and Carl were all mixed with grief, loss,
and regret which were powerful in making him want to seek comfort from the
person to whom he was closest. Carl.
Rick kept debating it in his mind. Disgusting. Wrong. Natural? These were
desperate times and he was going through a rough patch. What could he expect
from himself? But on the other hand, his main goal in life at this point was
not to fail Carl, and weren’t these feelings of his doing exactly that? That
was probably the worst thing he could do to Carl was to turn fatherly love
into…an abomination? Rick shuddered at the harsh word. He didn’t really think
that. He knew it wasn’t right, but was it necessarily wrong? Who even knew
anymore? The most important thing was that he recognized his thoughts and could
stop them before he acted impulsively or before Carl noticed them. Although,
Rick didn’t know if he could banish the thoughts completely because seeing Carl
reminded of him of what it was like being with Lori when times were good,
except this was better.
Rick was standing by the fence, almost nearing the back of the prison’s
property. He wanted solitude and quiet. The pain of losing Lori wasn’t
lessening or fading, but other feelings were coming to the forefront. Like the
feelings he was developing for Carl. He turned to face the approaching sound,
tensed for action, but it was just Carl coming around. Seeing his son’s face
was always a relief. Always a reminder of why he was still breathing. At first
the growing attraction he had for Carl was because of the similarities between
him and Lori, but now it was more than that. Rick could see the best of Lori in
Carl, the best of him, and then the qualities that were purely the boy’s. Carl
was just perfect because of and despite everything.
“What are you doin’ out here?” Rick asked, trying to conceal his smile. He had
been brooding, but his mood had improved drastically upon the sight of Carl.
Carl shrugged, “What are you?”
“Thinkin’.”
“About Mom,” Carl stated.
Rick looked at the ground and then up at Carl from the corner of his eye. Lori
always did that when she wanted him to talk. She’d bait him along with small
questions that she obviously already knew the answer to. Usually it annoyed him
because he didn’t see the need to talk needlessly about nothing, but with Carl
it was different. He could tell that his son wasn’t just trying to get him to
talk to prove a point or exert power. He simply cared; he wanted his father.
Rick hated seeing Carl so upset, but what he hated more was how he was acting
like the child when he was the father. He should be seeking out Carl to console
him, not the other way around. Rick didn’t mention that he wasn’t exactly
thinking about Lori in the context Carl would expect.
“How…how are you, Carl?” Rick felt like the biggest idiot alive asking such a
stupid question, but it was all he could think of to convey his thoughts. He
really just wanted to know how Carl was and he hoped the boy would tell it to
him straight.
Carl tightened his lips, “I miss her, but we have Judith now. We have to be
strong for her.”
Rick shook his head, “I have to be.”
“You don’t always have to do things alone, Dad,” Carl said.
“You should get to be a kid. You shouldn’t have to be takin’ care of one.”
“She’s kind of like my daughter in a way,” Carl laughed, “I did name her.”
Rick’s eyes flashed to Carl’s. He liked the way Carl said that. It just
strengthened everything he was feeling himself. As if Carl was his own romantic
partner and a parent to Judith. It was like Carl fulfilled every role that Rick
needed in his life. Carl was son, friend, protégé, co-survivor, and parent to
his child. If Rick had it his way, Carl might become a romantic partner, but he
guessed that was far-fetched because even if Carl went for it, it was still
wrong. Carl was still young. Rick was just getting greedy. He wanted Carl every
way he could have him.
“How are you?” Carl asked, returning his father’s question. The boy could see
how depressed his dad was, but he didn’t know how to help. The only thing he
was really sure of was that he needed to take care of Judith. It pleased him
immensely to be praised by Rick for doing so. He loved it when Rick was proud
of him and when he needed him. Carl wished he could do more to help his dad.
Rick tilted his head, “I’m fine,” he nodded at the words, trying to reassure
himself and Carl of their validity.
Carl saw through this and frowned, “Really?”
“I’ve been better,” Rick rephrased.
Carl shook his head, “Why won’t you admit it when you need help?”
“Because I don’t,” Rick answered, “I don’t know what could help this. I’m just
trying to get over it.”
“You don’t get over your wife dying,” Carl blurted, “I don’t get over my mom
dying. Shooting…” Carl stopped, “Shooting her myself.” The boy looked down.
Rick stepped forward to his son immediately and wrapped his arms around him,
“I’m sorry, Carl.”
Carl hugged his father tightly, trying not to cry by taking deep breaths.
“If you don’t get over it, what do you do?” Rick asked after a minute.
The boy hesitated, “Just accept it. Don’t forget it or live by it, just make it
a part of who you are. It doesn’t have to ruin your life. I need help getting
there just like you do. But we can be there for each other. I hate that you
can’t see that. You don’t have to do everything alone,” Carl explained.
Rick could tell he was being too forward in the way he was hugging Carl. He was
pushing too much of his body against the boy’s and he was pulling him close in
conjunction with that. Rick was moving his hand through the boy’s hair and down
his neck, stopping sporadically to rub Carl’s shoulders.
The boy melted into his father’s touch, getting comfortable. Rick wanted to
answer Carl by explaining to him how exactly he could help, but he didn’t dare.
Rick pulled away from the boy feeling immensely guilty for the escalation of
his feelings. What was wrong with him? He had a feeling the answer would be
nothing if he could be with Carl. Just being in the boy’s presence made Rick
better. He knew it was ridiculous, but it was the truth. It was all he could
think about anymore.
Carl didn’t know what gave him the impression, but he felt like his dad was
acting differently towards him. His father never hugged him like that before.
He’d shared desperate hugs with his dad before—after not being sure if he’d be
seeing the man alive again. This hug was a desperate hug for almost no reason.
He’d gotten upset, so what? Why had Rick hugged him so…so passionately? Carl
was trying to make sense of it, but he couldn’t really get there. He didn’t
want to draw attention to it and ask his dad outright in case he embarrassed
the man.
The more Carl thought about it the closer he came to discovering the truth.
What he got out of it was that his dad needed physical comfort—he didn’t like
speaking of his feelings and thoughts; he just needed to hug it out. That was
just him scratching the surface. What really got him nearer to the truth was
when he thought of how his father had looked at him when he mentioned being
like Judith’s parent. He thought his dad had been kind of mad, but now that he
thought more deeply, the man seemed happy, delighted even. Carl wondered if
that had something to do with it. Did Rick want a replacement for what he’d
lost with Lori? Carl felt a bit offended that his dad wanted to move on from
his mom, but if his dad was thinking that it would be him, then he’d have to
try and deliver. After all, he wanted to help make his dad feel better.
 
Carl didn’t do anything with his assumption just in case he was wrong. He’d
wait for his dad to take the lead if he wanted. In the meantime, Carl kept
caring for Judith, watching his father’s reaction while he did so. Rick always
looked happy, but Carl knew that was normal. Carl knew it wasn’t enough though.
Rick was still more than sad; he was devastated. He was coming around, but not
quickly. Carl still wanted to help, but he could only do so much without Rick
guiding him.
Rick noticed Carl’s calculating gaze on him almost always. The boy seemed to be
waiting for something, or expecting him to say or do something. Rick wasn’t
sure what he wanted to do. What had Carl guessed? It wasn’t like Rick was being
terribly obvious; all of his touching was kept to a minimum. A hand slid
through the boy’s hair, or squeeze at the back of his neck. Big deal.
Because Rick was so uncomfortable with his thoughts, he’d tried to avoid Carl
unless there were others around, but it was getting more difficult to do that
since the boy kept tracking him down.
“Do you need help with that, Dad?” Carl would ask when he saw Rick doing
anything. All Carl wanted to do was help because that’s how he figured he would
get to see his dad better. Rick was under so much stress and dealing with so
much sadness and Carl knew it was up to him to fix it. All Rick had to do was
say the word, but he wouldn’t. He felt too guilty.
“Carl?” Rick said softly from outside Carl’s bedroom.
“Yeah? What’s up?” The boy asked hopefully.
“I just wanted to see you before I went to bed,” Rick admitted.
“Oh,” Carl nodded from his bed.
Rick went and sat next to the boy on his bed, not quite sure what his
intentions were. He just wanted to be close to his son. He was lonely. It was a
particularly bad night. Sometimes the grief just intensified and Lori’s memory
was extra depressing. Rick needed more Carl than before, and it was hard to
resist his desires when being close to the boy eased his pain. Carl was the
antidote for grief. Rick didn’t know if he was going to be able to leave.
The man placed a hand on Carl’s knee.
“You seem sad,” Carl whispered.
Rick looked at the boy’s eyes, “It’s worse than usual. I don’t know why it just
doesn’t stay constant. Then I could handle it.”
Carl moved closer to his father, “It gets worse for me some nights too. Why
don’t you tell me when it gets so bad? I could help…”
“I should be helping you, Carl.”
“You do help me. It helps me to see you better. It’s hard seeing you so sad all
the time. I want to make you better.”
Rick leaned forward and rested his head on the boy’s shoulder, “Just being
around you makes me better.”
That's all Carl wanted to hear. He wanted to be capable of helping his dad.
Carl hesitantly wrapped his arms around the man’s body. He scooted toward the
man after he gathered more confidence. He sat himself in his father’s lap,
curling up against his chest.
“Carl,” Rick murmured, running his hands along the boy’s body, “Aww, I can’t do
this.”
“What’s wrong? Isn’t this what you want?”
“It’s not right, Carl.”
“Whatever makes you happier is right. Do you want me…like this?” Carl asked
innocently, gesturing to his body.
“Of course I do, but that doesn’t mean I should,” Rick said almost painfully.
It felt great to admit it. He hadn't given Carl enough credit; the boy knew
exactly what he had been trying to hide.
“You can have me like this. It’s what I want,” Carl admitted with a nod, moving
forward to his father again, “Please, Dad?”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Carl. It’s not right.”
“You won’t hurt me.”
“It’s not right,” Rick repeated.
“It’s not wrong, either,” Carl answered, dragging a hesitant hand up and under
Rick’s t-shirt. The boy shuddered at the feel of his father’s bare chest. He
had thought he would just be doing this for his father’s sake, and that he
wouldn’t be getting anything out of it. He saw now that was wrong. He wanted
this just as badly as his father did.
“Oh, Carl,” Rick said, enclosing the boy’s hand with his own. The light touch
of his son’s fingers on his body was almost too much. He wanted the boy
everywhere. He wanted to feel Carl all over him.
Rick laid back and brought the boy to rest on top of his chest. He placed both
of his hands on Carl’s face and pulled the boy forward slowly. Rick pressed his
dry lips to the boy’s, urging them open with his tongue. Carl didn’t know what
to do or how to kiss, so Rick did all the work, just exploring and tasting.
Eventually he broke away and made for Carl’s neck. Carl whined and twisted his
neck away, his lips searching for his father’s again. He wanted to feel his
dad’s lips once more. He was ready to kiss back.
Carl reached his own hands up to grasp his father’s bearded face. He pressed
his lips to the man’s slowly, pushing his tongue into the man’s mouth. Rick
growled as Carl found his away; he enjoyed that the boy was learning by his
instruction. The man reached down in between his and Carl’s bodies, pressing
his hand against Carl’s groin.
The boy gasped, losing the purchase he had on Rick’s mouth. He had been so
focused on the kissing that he hadn’t realized he was hard. Now that he was
aware of it, it was all he could think about. He knew this was about his dad,
but he wanted to get off too. Carl wasn’t sure how that was going to happen and
the thought excited him. What was his father going to do to him?
“God, Carl,” Rick whispered, moving the boy onto his back. The man pulled off
Carl’s jeans and boxers. The boy helped his dad along by removing his shirt. He
was the furthest thing from shy. This was his father. His dad loved him more
than life itself; there was nothing to be scared of.
“Beautiful,” Rick commented.
“You did good work,” Carl retorted.
Rick laughed, moving his hands across the contours Carl’s ribs and chest. He
flicked his fingers over the boy’s nipples, trailing them down the boy’s torso
until he reached his dick. Rick wrapped his hand around his son’s cock and
squeezed, moving his fist up and down quickly.
Carl arched off the bed and came, his load dripping down his father’s fist.
“Good,” Rick commented breathily, raising his fist to his lips and tasting his
son.
The man removed his own clothes, gasping when he finally grabbed his erection.
It had been confined to the inside of his pants for too long, and it was
already leaking precome at the head. He wanted to be inside Carl badly, but he
knew that would be taking too much from his son.
The man placed one hand on the inside of Carl’s thigh while the other moved up
and down on his cock. Rick was already close to coming, but he was holding off
in the hopes of Carl offering more. He ended up speaking up himself, “You’re
hard again.”
Carl was flushed. He nodded, glancing at his dick. He wanted release, but he
didn’t want to do it himself. He was already addicted to his father’s touch.
Carl wondered what it’d feel like if his father put his mouth on his body. If
he had come quickly before with just a hand, Carl imagined he’d be gone within
a second under his dad’s tongue.
“Would you let me go inside you?” Rick asked hesitantly.
Carl’s mouth popped open, “Like, have sex?”
Rick nodded, “I know I’ve taken so much already.”
“Take more,” Carl answered. He turned over onto his stomach. “Do it.” Carl
couldn’t imagine anything better than being fucked by his father. He wanted his
dad to go hard. He wanted his father to want him all the time. If Carl was good
enough, Rick would always want to stay. Carl could be everything for his father
just like Rick already was for him. Carl wanted this more than anything, and it
made him immensely happy to know that his father felt the same.
“I love you, Carl. More than anything. You make me feel whole,” Rick said.
Carl had offered his body in hopes that he could heal Rick’s pain, and that’s
what had happened. Rick hadn’t felt happier than he felt in this moment. Just
knowing that Carl loved him enough to be with him was everything. Even if Carl
never wanted to do it again, Rick would at least know that Carl loved him
enough to try in the first place.
“I love you too, Dad,” Carl replied, “I hope I’m making you better.”
Rick flipped Carl back over so that the boy was on his back again. He wanted to
face the boy, “You are, Carl. Know that. Your love means everything to me.”
Carl nodded, his eyes welling up with unwanted tears. All of the pain he’d been
feeling for the last few weeks came to a head. He was wrought with emotion.
“Dad,” he whispered.
Rick was right there with his son, holding him until the sadness dissipated
into desire once more. Both of them had been on the verge of falling asleep
because they’d been lying quietly for so long. Rick wasn’t even concerned about
not getting to have sex with Carl. He didn’t need to get off with Carl; he just
wanted to be close with the boy and share his space. Carl needed him in that
way too, and so Rick had been there, just holding his son. Rick had been
tracing patterns on the boy’s naked body absentmindedly while he held him. He'd
accidentally elicited more desire from Carl with his touch. The boy began
moving his hips against his father’s body.
Rick responded to his son’s movements by moving his hand to Carl’s ass. He
slipped a finger in between Carl’s cheeks and started teasing at the boy’s hole
with his pinky. Carl squirmed needily, begging for Rick to apply more pressure.
Rick wanted to push past the rim, but Carl wasn’t wet enough.
“Is this still okay?” Rick asked, making his way back down the boy’s body.
“More than okay,” Carl said, panting while he spread his legs for his father.
He wanted his dad to fuck him now.
Rick had been teasing at Carl’s hole relentlessly with his finger, and now he
wanted to use his tongue. The man flicked his tongue back and forth across
Carl’s tightness, loosening him up slowly.
“Oh my God,” Carl said, biting his fist. Rick pushed his tongue past the boy’s
pink rim, circling it over and over again until the boy was loose enough for
his index finger.
Rick worked the boy over thoroughly until he was begging for it.
“I want you now. Dad, please,” Carl said, widening his legs even further. His
cock was aching, lying neglected on his stomach.
Rick had been waiting for hours and he was ready. He gripped the base of his
dick, spitting on his opposite hand and spreading it across Carl’s already wet
hole.
The man repeated the action, this time putting the excess spit on his cock. He
wanted Carl to enjoy this.
Rick pressed into his boy with a groan, sliding all the way in effortlessly. It
was no matter that Carl was small; their bodies fit together seamlessly.
Carl dragged his fingernails all the way down his father’s back when the man
bottomed out inside him. When Rick slid back out and pushed forward again, Carl
dug his nails into the man’s skin. He had no choice but to hold onto the man
tightly or else he was going to go right through the wall because of his dad's
force.
Rick didn’t let up on his son, pushing forward again and again despite his
exhaustion. Carl had his thin legs wrapped around his father’s larger body,
just taking everything his dad had to give.
The man had never felt so connected with anyone in his entire life. To be so
physically and emotionally close with his son was the experience of a lifetime.
He couldn’t imagine a time when he hadn’t been one with Carl. Rick’s mind was
alive with love and peace. This was where his life force lied—with his son. He
couldn't believe that what had started everything was Lori's absence. It didn't
make sense to him that seeing Lori's characteristics in Carl had made him want
the boy because now Rick saw nothing of Lori in the boy. He only saw his son.
His lover. Lori had nothing to do with his desire for Carl now. Rick wanted
Carl for Carl.
Carl couldn’t hold back any longer when his father’s thrusts hit his prostate
perfectly over and over again. He came in between his and his father’s body
untouched.
“Fuck, Carl,” Rick breathed, speeding up briefly before spilling within his
son’s heat. Rick thrust gently a few more times to ride it out, and then he
finally detached from his son. He didn’t like the separation. To make up for it
he pulled the boy atop his chest and wrapped his arms around him.
Carl rested his head against the man’s chest. He marvelled at how he could
still feel his father within him because of the soreness and the pleasure that
radiated from his body. He wanted to do it again; he felt the same as Rick, too
far apart. It was scary how he still wanted more from his father when at first
he thought he was just doing it for his father.
Carl hummed contentedly in the silence. Rick responded by tightening his hold
on the boy. His wife was gone, and the pain from that would never fully
disappear, but his love for Carl would transcend anything he would have to go
through. Carl was his and he was Carl's. That's all that mattered to him
anymore.
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