Chapter Text
Negan took a lazy swallow from the can of beer in his hand, leaning back in the cozy, battered old leather chair and stretching his long legs out onto the desk in front of him. He was in the manager’s office of the garage he worked at - as a mechanic. He was not the manager; this was not his office or his desk or his chair. Or his beer. But the big man was out, and business was slow, so Negan decided to help himself to the relative luxury.
The door swung open, and the office’s rightful owner stood in the entrance, blinking at him. His surprise faded to exasperation, which in turn faded to amusement as he broke into a chuckle. He scratched the grey hair that spilled out from his worn cap. “Seriously, kid? You even gonna pretend to fucking work every now and again?”
Negan grinned at him, tipping the warm can of beer - the one he had swiped from Bud’s not-so-secret stash - at him in a toast. “Nothin’ out there for me to do, Bud. Thought I’d go over the books.” He indicated the scattered binders on the desk with an unrepentant smirk. Not a single one was actually open - they were currently serving to prop up his grimy boots.
Bud’s glare was as resigned as it was irritated. “You’re a real stand-up employee, kid.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Well, they just towed one in, so step to it. Junker looks like it’s on its last goddamn legs.”
Negan groaned before finishing the beer with a gulp. He crushed the can and let it fall to Bud’s desk carelessly. “They’re all on their last goddamn legs by the time they fucking turn up in here.”
“Try not to be a dick for once,” Bud said as he strolled passed him, and Negan paused just at the door, shooting him a look of mock-offense.
He laid a gloved hand on his own chest. “Me? This guy? The fuck are you even talking about?” He walked away with a low chuckle, leaving the office and stepping into the large, noisy, fume-filled garage. The late afternoon light turned the space a warm golden-orange, reflecting off all the metal to produce a soft, lovely glow at odds with the rough surroundings. He saw it immediately, in the far left corner - one hell of an old-ass Ford with chipped paint and a general air of exhaustion. There was a man leaning against the car with his arms folded, facing away and giving off a similar air of exhaustion. As Negan approached, he appreciatively took in the sight of the lean line of his body, clothed in jeans that clung to a very attractive backside. Oh, hell yes. “Hey, there,” he called out when he was a few feet away.
The man spun to face him, and he was momentarily arrested by the sight. Jesus, he was good-looking, with some of the bluest eyes he had ever seen. That was his first thought; his second was that the eyes were anxious and set in shadows so dark they were nearly purple. The man held out his hand, and he took it with a winning smile. “Hi, I’m Rick. Rick Grimes. It, uh…” he trailed off, gesturing towards the car. “It started smokin’ on the road and just…stopped. I know it’s an old car, but it’s never done anythin’ like that before.”
“Rick Grimes, you wouldn’t believe how many people end up in here with the same fucking story,” Negan replied, cocking his head and flashing him an amused grin. The man gave a faint, rueful smile in response, forehead furrowing slightly. “But usually we can help ‘em get back on the road before long,” Negan added softly, taking in the man’s drawn expression.
He blew out a sigh, and his eyes filled with a tentative hope. “I sure hope so, mister.”
Negan breathed a wry laugh at that - mister. He was rarely the recipient of good manners, his own being so sorely lacking. “Call me Negan, Rick Grimes. Pop the hood for me.” The man bent into the driver’s side to fumble for the hood release under the dash, and Negan took the opportunity to brazenly admire the sight of his ass in the air. He made a mental note to buy Bud a new case of beer. There was a soft click of the hood releasing, and the other man straightened and turned. He caught Negan’s sly smirk and blinked at him, looking confused.
Try not to be a dick, Bud had said, and he supposed that should extend to the mental groping he had just indulged in, but could he be blamed for taking advantage of an opportunity that just presented itself? The other man’s apparently innocent befuddlement was the icing on the cake. Negan held the puzzled gaze for a moment, passing his tongue over his lip, before he turned and made his way to the front of the car. He gazed into the exposed viscera of the machine, frowning. It certainly smelled like something had gone very wrong - the acrid scent of smoke rose up to greet him immediately as he drew close, and he pulled the red bandana at his neck up over his nose as he bent towards the engine.
“How’s it look?” Rick asked hesitantly.
“Well, I’ll have to get in there a bit before I can tell you.” Negan looked at him, considering, as he let the bandana fall from his face. The man had an accent from at least two states to the south. “Far from home, Rick?” He reached to retrieve a wrench from a nearby table.
“Yeah. Yeah, I am. I came up from Georgia.”
“Georgia? Shit, how long you been on the road? No offense, but you look dead on your fuckin’ feet.”
The other man smiled faintly at that and looked down. “Yeah. I’ll bet I do. I’ve been drivin’ since this mornin’. Just about eight hours.” He hesitated, passing a hand over his forehead. “I had a feeling it was gonna be too much for an old car,” he sighed.
Negan clicked his tongue and glanced up, shooting a smile at him. “You let me worry about that. What brings a good Southern boy such as yourself this close to the Mason-Dixon line?”
“I’m picking my kids up from their grandparents,” he answered softly. “They’ve been stayin’ there for the summer.”
Negan grunted as he twisted at a stubborn bolt. “Their mama up there with ‘em?” he asked casually. He had almost immediately noted the absence of a ring on the left hand, so the question was sheer pretense.
“Their mama’s dead,” Rick answered after a long moment. Negan jerked his head to stare at him. He was still leaning against the side of the car - more slumped against it, really - with his arms crossed, and his head had fallen back as if it were heavy. His eyes were closed.
“Shit, man. I’m real fuckin’ sorry,” Negan said, and he noted with some surprise that he meant it. Sympathy for the other man had spread through his chest like something heavy and thick, and he fought an urge to get up and touch him. He snorted at himself internally. He was sure the reserved, polite stranger would not appreciate Negan suddenly putting his hands on him. Although now that the idea was in his head, it was difficult to dislodge.
The hell’s wrong with you? he demanded of himself, amused. He knew what was wrong with him - he always thought with his dick, and he had noticed that the man beside him was fucking sexy as soon as he walked into the garage. He had seen right away that he had some shit going on, too, and the distress he could feel him trying to contain was just drawing him in more, playing on the protective instinct that he knew was one of the few redeeming companion qualities to his dominating nature.
Rick had been silent so long that Negan assumed he was going to take his condolences as rhetorical. “Thank you,” the other man returned softly, startling him. “I appreciate that.”
Negan glanced up, and the blue eyes were on him. Damn, he thought to himself. That is one fine-ass widower. He supposed the thought would make most decent people feel guilty, but he was never one to be over-burdened with propriety, himself. He dropped his head back down towards his work. “You mind coming over here and holding this?” It was the weakest fucking excuse in the world, and again, Negan supposed a decent man would be ashamed of himself, but he was not a particularly decent man. He wanted Georgia to stand a little closer.
The man complied, walking over to the front of the car and leaning in to grasp the rusty fuel pump and hold it aside so that Negan could work around the engine more easily. The man’s tanned, muscled arm was exposed up to the elbow with his rolled-up shirt sleeves, and Negan had to fight back a naughty, satisfied grin at his success in improving the view.
“I never did learn nothin’ about cars,” Rick said quietly above him.
“Lucky for me, or I wouldn’t have been able to make your acquaintance this fine day,” Negan returned cheerfully, and he was pleased to see Rick’s worried expression ease somewhat into a faint, shy smile when he glanced up at him. Negan worked steadily, investigating each piece of the car’s rusty inner workings, searching for the culprit that had caused the break-down. Despite the utter lack of sincerity in his request that Rick help, the other man was helpful, passing Negan tools and holding things as directed.
“How’s it lookin’?” Rick asked finally, after some time had passed.
Negan straightened up and looked at him, and the other man was biting at his full, pink lower lip. Fuck. This fucking guy was going to get him hard in the middle of the garage. Even as the thought drifted across Negan’s mind, the drawn, anxious look on the other man’s face rebuked him. Focus, you fucking horndog.
“Well,” Negan began, hesitating. Honestly, it looked bad. It was an old car with old parts, and trying to replace any one of them would be a goddamn nightmare. Negan was hoping he could get it running for him again without having to go that route, but what he had seen so far wasn’t encouraging. “Still too early to tell,” he said finally. He glanced up at Rick, and he was struck both by how much more blue his eyes looked up close and also by the resigned, knowing expression in them. Negan shot him a rueful smile, aware that Rick had seen right through him.
“It’s bad, ain’t it?”
“Yeah, probably. But I don’t know how bad, so just…think happy fucking thoughts, okay?” Rick nodded jerkily, and Negan turned his attention back to the car. Well, largely back to the car, and somewhat back to the smooth flesh on the exposed forearm in his periphery. He tried to think of a distracting line of conversation. “You drive up this way a lot, officer? Scenery’s nice, huh?”
Rick twitched in surprise beside him. “How did you know I was a cop?” he asked, sounding bewildered.
Negan straightened, laughing, and reached back to retrieve another tool. “Oh, come on. Of course you’re a cop. You got it written all over you. Hell, I can just about smell it on you.” Negan leaned forward, making as if he would actually sniff the other man’s collar. Rick jerked back, and Negan could swear he turned faintly pink. He bent back over the car, chuckling. “No disrespect, officer,” he added cheekily, almost as an afterthought.
Rick scoffed beside him, shaking his head. “You ain’t the first person to tell me I look like a cop, but I really don’t know what the hell that means.”
“Didn’t say you looked like one,” Negan grunted, groping beneath the cool metal of the engine.
“Right, I smell like one. How’s that? What’s a cop smell like?” There was a teasing defiance in Rick’s warm drawl that Negan liked. He liked it very, very much.
He turned his head, looking up to meet the other man’s gaze. He beamed his most charming smile up at him, fully aware of its siren power. “Like righteousness and apple pie, Rick. You know. Wholesome.” He winked flirtatiously at him, pleased when Rick dropped his eyes, flushing openly now and with a smile trembling at the corners of his lips.
Negan turned back to his work with a sense of triumph that was short-lived in the face of the increasingly bleak situation under the hood of the old car. Finally, he straightened with a grunt and turned to Rick, who was looking at him with apprehension in his clear blue eyes. “There’s a lot that’s going on here, Rick, but most of it can be patched over. The problem is your carburetor - it’s completely shot. You need a new one, which ain’t the easiest thing in the world to get these days, seein’ as fuel injection’s made ‘em obsolete. On top of that, you know, all that shit is unique to the make and model of the car, so I need to make a few calls and see how fast I can get one that’s gonna work. Nothing we have on site is gonna do it.”
Rick sighed and raised a hand to his forehead. “How long do you think it’ll take?”
“Honestly? I can’t say. Depends on how fast I can get the piece.” Negan cleaned his hands on a rag, frowning over at Rick where he stood with his hand covering his eyes. The urge to touch him was back, and he pushed it away again. “Hey, go get yourself some of that shitty coffee in the front while I get on the phone. I’ll threaten a few people for you, okay? I can be really fucking unpleasant when I put my mind to it.” Negan was gratified when the hand fell away, and Rick met his eyes again with a faint smile.
“Really? I never woulda guessed.”
Negan winked at him again, pleased with the light challenge in the other man’s tone. “Stay on my good side, officer, and you’ll never have to see for yourself.” With that, he strolled past Rick, deliberately invading his space as he passed, his shoulder nearly brushing the other man’s chest.
He did issue a few threats on the phone, although neither his charm nor his threats could make a thirty-year-old rare car part materialize in a sixty-mile radius. The best he could do was to have the owner of a garage just over the North Carolina border pass it over to a trucker buddy who was riding out that night. Negan knew even that was damn lucky.
He found Rick looking doubtfully into a cup of thick, black liquid in what passed for the garage’s reception area: a couple of folding chairs and an ancient coffee maker shoved into a corner. “You know what? You probably shouldn’t drink that. Either some fucker around here is putting their damn cigarettes out into the coffee pot or that’s just how it tastes, but either way, there’s a diner around the corner with coffee that doesn’t taste like the devil’s tobacco spit.”
Rick looked up, and Negan could see the disappointment in his eyes as his words sunk in. “Diner? Am I gonna be here that long?”
Negan sighed and scratched his stubbled cheek. “I’m sorry, officer. Tomorrow morning’s the earliest that car is going to be on the road. Part’s coming from North Carolina.”
Rick dropped his head, exhaling slowly. “Shit.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s a bitch. You’re fuckin’ stranded. Like I said, though, there’s a diner around the corner, and then there’s a motel across the road.” Negan raked a hand through his hair. He could feel the dejection coming off the man, and that urge to touch was back yet again. Fucking stop it, he told himself, but the rest of his body didn’t get the memo because he had taken a step towards him.
The other man looked up, and if he was surprised at Negan’s sudden proximity he didn’t show it. “Can I use your phone?” he asked quietly. “Mine’s not workin’ for some reason.”
Negan gave him a startled look before he burst out into helpless laughter, earning an annoyed glare from Rick. “Oh, fuck. Shit is really going sideways for you today, boy. You’ve got problems with your fucking phone, too? Are you sure you didn’t break a mirror or five?”
Rick looked like he was struggling between amusement and irritation. Amusement won, and his lips twitched into the barest smile. “Well, not that I remember,” he sighed. “But it does seem like it.”
Negan pulled his cell phone from his pocket and handed it over, shaking his head. “Here you go, officer. Try not to rub any of that bad fucking luck on it. I got enough of my own.”
That amused-or-irritated fight was back in the man’s eyes, but he finally ducked his head and murmured, “Thank you. I need to see about the kids.”
Negan nodded and turned away, suddenly feeling like King Asshole of Jackass Kingdom for messing with the guy. Right - his kids. He had forgotten about that angle in the fun of his teasing flirtation. He made his way back to Rick’s unfortunate car. The least he could do was get everything else squared away while the carburetor made its odyssey. The sun had sunk beyond the horizon, and the flickering, faint overhead lighting in the garage hardly kept the soft darkness of twilight at bay. Everyone was trickling out now that closing time had rolled around, and the silence made the space seem larger. Negan angled a light into the dark interior of the hood of the old car and busied himself with the repairs until a soft step alerted him to another presence in the otherwise empty room.
Rick was standing a few feet away, holding out his phone. The shadows under his eyes looked blacker in the dim light. “Thank you. Really.”
Negan took it from him, flashing a smile. “Rugrats taken care of?”
“Mm-hm. Their grandparents ain’t happy I can’t pick ‘em up on time.” Rick smiled, and it didn’t touch his eyes. “They never thought much of me as a son-in-law from the start, though, so it don’t take much to disappoint ‘em now.”
Negan felt his eyebrows go halfway up his forehead. “Seriously? They’re pissed at you because your fuckin’ car broke down? Fuck them with a chainsaw, then.”
Rick’s startled gaze fell on him, and he laughed - an actual, genuine, amused laugh, the first Negan had heard from him. “That’s awful graphic, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
Negan leaned against the car and grinned. “I’m awful graphic, Rick, in case you haven’t fucking noticed. Why don’t you head on over to that diner? You could probably use something to eat after this shitty-ass day.”
Rick was shaking his head. “I think I’ll probably just go get a room at that motel. I’ve been drivin’ the whole day. I’m exhausted.” He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. The warmth of the day had departed with the sun, and the air around them had a chilly bite.
“You sure that’s a good idea? You looked like you were about to keel over when you came in here.” Negan wiped his hands on a rag and gave Rick a sly smile. “The apple pie’s pretty good.” Negan could have sworn he saw the other man’s cheeks glow pink again.
“I’m honestly not th-that hungry,” he replied, and his words came out shivering as he clutched himself more tightly.
“You that cold, officer? Damn, this is barely jacket weather up here.”
Rick gave a wry laugh. “Like I said, I’m from Georgia. I’m not used to this.”
Negan made a soft noise in his throat that was more suggestive than sympathetic. “You want me to come up there with you, then? Keep you warm?” Now it was unmistakeable - a red flush bloomed on the other man’s face in response. Negan rocked back on his heels, affecting surprise. “Shit. I think maybe you do.” He tossed the rag he was holding aside and closed the distance between them, and Rick fell back, shaking his head wordlessly. Negan held his hands up in the universal not-gonna-hurt-you gesture, mind chugging away at the riddle in front of him - how to get this handsome, honey-voiced, blue-eyed stranger to let him into his bed tonight. He wanted that. Yes, he wanted that very fucking much. “Listen, I get it. You’re not the kind of guy that fucks someone they just met, am I right?”
The flush on the man’s cheeks deepened with the bald statement of Negan’s intentions. “You can smell that on me, too?” Rick said, and Negan had to fight a triumphant smirk at the hint of shy flirtation in his voice.
“That’s right, officer,” he said with an easy smile. “But…I think you wanna make an exception here. You know why?” He tilted his head back, eyes raking lazily over the man in front of him. He waited patiently for him to take the bait, and his patience was rewarded.
“Why?” Rick asked hesitantly, and he grinned at him in response, tongue coming to lick at the corner of his mouth.
“Because I could really, really, really turn this shitty day you’ve been having right the fuck around. Believe me, darlin’.”
The corners of Rick’s mouth twitched, and he stared at the floor. His shoulders relaxed, and when the blue eyes rose to meet his again, Negan knew from their slightly hazy expression that he had him hooked. “You know what? I think I do believe you.”
Negan held his gaze and stepped forward slowly, giving the other man ample time to retreat. He didn’t - he held his ground with his arms still wrapped around himself as Negan drew closer, practically standing on his toes. He bent down to Rick’s ear. “Do me a favor,” he murmured, “and go get yourself something to eat, then head on over to that motel. I need to keep workin’ on the car for a little. Get her ready for tomorrow. I’ll head on up in a couple hours, and then I’ll get to working on you. Sound like a plan?”
Rick turned his head to look at him, looking surprised and faintly touched. “You’re…gonna keep workin’? Everyone’s gone.”
Negan grinned down at him. “Mm-hm. Gonna make sure this thing’s ready to go for you tomorrow. Does that just make you all tingly with gratitude?”
Rick pressed his lips together and blushed harder, to Negan’s fascination. He was about to say something else - he was wondering just how red the man could get - when he was silenced by lips on his. Rick kissed him, winding one arm around his neck and letting the other rest on his chest, fingers sinking into the soft leather of his jacket. For once, Negan was completely caught off-guard. Rick pulled back after a moment. “Yeah, actually. It does,” he said quietly, his tone a touch more bold.
Negan stared down at him, surprised, gratified, and suddenly very, very hard. He slid his arms around the other man’s torso, gathering him up closer. “That’s good,” he said, recovering, “I’ll be sure to fucking cash that in later.” He dropped his head and kissed his throat just over the softly throbbing pulse, and the other man shivered in his arms. It may have been from his lips on his neck, but Negan thought it was at least partially from the cold, so he stripped off his jacket. He could see the protest rise immediately in the other man’s eyes as he wrapped it around his shoulders. “Just fucking take it. You’re shaking.”
“I can’t take your jacket,” Rick objected, “you’ll be cold.”
Negan laughed, tugging him by the lapels into his chest. “What’d I just fucking say? This isn’t jacket weather to us townies, Georgia. I don’t wear that thing because I get cold. I wear it because it makes me look cool. Duh.”
Rick scoffed, shaking his head, but he slipped his arms into the jacket. “Fine.” He hesitated, eyes on the floor for a moment. “Thank you.”
“Thank me later,” Negan replied, his voice velvet. The flush darkened on Rick’s face, and Negan caught his tongue between his teeth, pleased. He let Rick go with reluctance, urging him toward the open front of the garage. “Go on. Get some food in you. You’re not fucking going to sleep without eating anything after driving all goddamn day. Christ.”
Rick went, throwing him a grudging look over his shoulder. “Yes, mama.”
“That’s ‘daddy’ to you,” Negan called after him, and even in the dim light, he could see the heat of the look Rick sent back at him in response. He listened to his footsteps retreat, and then he turned back to the car’s open hood with a cheerful whistle. Today was turning out to be very good fucking day, indeed.
—
Rick leaned his face into his hands, elbows propped on the table in front of him. He was tucked into a booth at the diner down the road, coffee steaming away in a mug in front of him. The cuffs of the borrowed jacket were close to his face, and he inhaled the oddly pleasing mix of leather and gasoline. What the hell do you think you’re doing, Rick Grimes? he asked himself sternly. The idea of him inviting a stranger into his motel room - and not for lemonade, either, there was no pretense about the nature of the invitation - was incredible. He wouldn’t have believed he had done it if he hadn’t been there himself. He had never done anything like that before in his entire life; he didn’t know whether you could actually smell that sort of thing on another person, but Negan had been right about that.
Negan. Rick squirmed in his seat, feeling a blush creep up his neck. He couldn’t think straight with the other man’s searing-hot gaze on him, and his gaze always seemed to be on him, from the moment he had first introduced himself. Standing next to him was like standing next to a fully stoked and blazing furnace. A mouthy furnace, with a broad chest and a wicked-looking smile. Rick dropped his hands, trying to will his thoughts away from that visual as he felt the immediate warmth spread between his hips.
What the hell are you doing? he asked himself again, bringing the mug to his lips, flustered at his own body’s reaction to his wandering thoughts. The coffee was smooth and rich and comforting, and Rick savored it. Negan was right about that, too - the second he had stepped inside the diner, he realized how desperate he actually was for something to eat. The anxiety had chased away his appetite completely earlier, but now…he felt easier, somehow. That’s what he was doing, he supposed - chasing the comfort. For all his teasing, Negan had made him feel at ease, and he wanted more.
“Here you are, darlin’,” a voice said at his elbow, and he beamed a grateful smile to the young woman who had appeared beside him. She set the slice of pie in front of him with a smile. As soon as the mouth-watering scent of it reached his nose, he realized all over again how hungry he was. He took a small bite and came close to giving an audible sigh as its sweetness spread over his tongue.
Because I could really, really, really turn this shitty day you’ve been having right the fuck around. Believe me, darlin’.
He wanted that, good sense be damned. He tugged the jacket closer around him. If that miserable old car had seen fit to strand him in the foothills of Virginia, he would take whatever the universe seemed to be offering in recompense. The pie, the jacket, and the man - the one whose eyes had moved over him as if Rick had already invited him to his bed, before he had even reached his hand out to shake for the first time.
—
“Darlin’, you get more beautiful every time I see you. How’s a thing like that happen?”
Olivia gave him an arch stare over her glasses, smiling. “What do you want, Negan?”
He grinned, leaning against the motel counter. “I’m looking for a customer from the garage. His car’s in a bad way, and I sent him up here.”
Olivia laughed, pushing her glasses up her nose. “The cute one that came in wearing your jacket? You don’t say!”
Negan leaned further over the counter, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He is cute, isn’t he?”
“Yes. And he said he was expecting you, so go on up. Number 111.”
Negan knocked his hand lightly against the hard wood of the counter. “Thank you, angel face.” He began to turn away, but he felt a light hand on his wrist.
“Hey, you be nice to him. He looked stressed out.”
Negan blinked at her, frowning slightly. Why was everyone warning him to be nice today? “That’s the idea, honey. I’m gonna de-stress him.” He lifted a hand to his mouth, curled around an imaginary dick, and pressed a tongue to the inside of his cheek to complete the dirty pantomime, shooting Olivia a wink.
Olivia shook her head, groaning. “Okay, wow. God bless, then.”
“Don’t be jealous, babydoll,” he called over his shoulder as he sauntered away, and Olivia blew a very loud, unladylike raspberry by way of reply.
He stepped out into the cool night air again, turning and heading down the long row of brightly painted doors. It was far from his first tryst at this particular motel - or with one of his clients from the garage, for that matter - but something felt different, and he was aware of his heart cantering in his chest as he reached out to rap sharply on Number 111. After a moment, the door swung open, and Negan was surprised at the intensity of the satisfied thrill that ran through him when he saw that Rick was still wrapped in his jacket.
The other man smiled, dropping his eyes, and stepped back. Negan strolled past him and into the small motel room. The space felt rather overcrowded with all the furniture crammed inside, and the overall effect of the floral-printed-everything was grandmotherly. Negan almost laughed at the wall of artificial heat that immediately met him as he crossed the threshold. Rick had been at the thermostat, apparently. He sprawled sideways onto the love seat upholstered in candy-pink roses against the wall, putting his boots up on the old coffee table and shooting Rick an impudent look, as if daring him to protest. The other man just shut the door and stood leaning against it, seemingly at a loss for words, eyes still on the ground.
“Hey. Georgia.” Negan reached out an arm and crooked a finger at him. After a moment’s hesitation, Rick walked over and sank onto the cushions beside him, leaving as much room between them as the petite piece of furniture would allow. Negan came dangerously close to rolling his eyes. He seized the lapel of the leather jacket and tugged until Rick fell against his chest with a startled look. He grinned down at him in response, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “You gettin’ all shy again? Shit, you weren’t shy earlier when you laid those lips on me in the garage,” he teased lightly, running his fingers down his arm.
Rick’s startled look dissolved into amusement, and he gave a brief laugh. “I think I used up most of my nerve on that,” he confessed.
Negan’s smile softened, and his tongue poked out between his teeth. “Yeah? Good thing I have enough nerve for the both of us.”
Rick gave an amused snort and hesitantly slid an arm around his waist. “You do, don’t you?”
Now we’re fucking getting somewhere, Negan thought. He was having a hard time focusing considering that his mind had fast-forwarded to the very distracting image of Rick stripped bare and spread beneath him on that bed with its garish floral orgy of a quilt, and he gave himself a mental shake. “So? What do you think of our local hospitality?”
Rick looked down again. “Well, you were right. I was starvin’, and the coffee and pie were great.”
Negan gave an appreciative hum, shooting his eyebrows up. “I was right, wasn’t I? Howabout that.”
“Don’t let it get to your head,” Rick drawled in retort, looking up through his lashes.
Damn it if the sass didn’t make Negan’s thighs clench. He wanted to take this slow - he knew that’s what the man in his arms needed. Negan was very aware that he had sweet-talked him into doing something wildly out of his comfort zone; he needed to proceed with caution to avoid sending the man bolting from his arms like a startled deer. But there was a razor blade hidden in the blue-eyed man’s genteel sweetness, and every time it nicked him, the insistent hot throb between his legs got a little harder to ignore. He slid a hand under the jacket and ran it lightly up Rick’s side, emboldened. “Yes, sir, officer,” he replied huskily.
Rick cleared his throat and flushed. “How’s the, uh…the car?”
“Ready for tomorrow, with an empty space just waiting to be filled.” He paused for a beat. “You know. With a new carburetor.”
Rick fought a smile and lost. “You got kind of a one-track mind, don’t you?”
Negan gave an insinuating chuckle. “You got no idea, blue eyes.” His patience hit its end - he was suddenly extremely tired of not having his mouth on the other man’s. “Can I kiss you?”
Rick’s gaze on him grew appealingly flustered. “Uh, y-yes. Yeah. Okay.”
Negan bent his head to his and captured his lips almost delicately. He waited until the other man responded, arm sliding around his neck, before lapping lightly at the full lower lip in a silent entreaty. Rick’s lips parted almost immediately, to his gratification, and he invaded the willing mouth with his tongue. He made an appreciative noise low in his throat as Rick’s tongue met his challengingly. They sparred like that for some time, wet and intimate, before Negan pulled back.
Rick blinked at him almost sleepily, and Negan met the glazed expression in his eyes with a distinctly self-satisfied smirk. He settled back on the cushions, pulling Rick into his lap until he was straddling him. He cocked his head back, eyes trailing up Rick’s torso until they rested on his face again. Rick was flushed, and Negan wasn’t sure whether it was from shyness or arousal or both.
He cupped the pink cheeks lightly, feeling the heat there, before dropping his hands to his shirt. He paused, fingers at the first button. “Well?” Negan asked softly.
Rick gaped at him, and his confusion was fucking cute. “Huh?”
“Do you want me to unbutton this, Rick?” The shirt was open at the collar, and Negan watched in fascination as the flush spilled down Rick’s throat. The other man nodded mutely. Negan couldn’t help himself - he frowned and cocked his head towards Rick, fanning a hand behind his ear. “What’s that, darlin’? Speak up.”
“Yes,” Rick said huskily, shooting him a heated, stern look that went straight to his dick.
He attacked the buttons without further delay, revealing Rick’s muscled chest. Negan sucked an appreciative breath breath between his teeth, shooting a mischievous glance up at the other man. “Damn, officer. Is it fucked up that I’m jealous of the sorry bastards you’ve slapped your cuffs on?” He ran his fingers over one rosy nipple, tweaking lightly, and Rick sucked in a hissing breath. “You can bend me over your squad car anytime. I’ve been known to go forty in a twenty-five. I deserve it.” Negan had a feeling he was close to answering the how-red-can-he-get question. Rick’s skin practically glowed with his scarlet flush.
Fucking cute, Negan thought, and affection swelled in him. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the center of Rick’s chest. He nipped and licked his way over to the nipple under his fingers before closing his lips over it, relishing Rick’s faint moan. He pushed the shirt and jacket over Rick’s shoulders and down his arms in one smooth motion, letting them fall to the floor carelessly. Rick’s arms wrapped around his shoulders the moment they were freed, clinging to him as his breathing grew heavier.
Negan’s hands wandered his exposed flesh eagerly, and his fingers brushed over something raised, thick, and rough at his shoulder. He released the nipple he was laving to glance up. He stared, not quite believing what he was looking at for a moment. He met Rick’s eyes, and there was an apprehensive, almost sad expression in their blue depths. “You took a fuckin’ bullet, Georgia?” Negan asked softly, stroking his thumb over the scar.
Rick drew a breath as if to speak, but instead he let it out slowly. “It’s a real long story,” he said finally.
Negan looked searchingly into the other man’s eyes, and Rick ducked his head in response. Something stubborn and entitled rose up in him from the depths of his less admirable qualities, demanding that he press the issue, and he struggled with it for a minute. Don’t be a dick, he reminded himself. He could figure what had happened - poor guy took a fucking bullet on the job. If he didn’t want to talk about it, that was fine - he didn’t owe Negan his memoirs. He slid the hand that was resting over the scar up Rick’s tanned throat and into his hair. He tugged him down to meet his lips again, and the kiss was slow and tender. When he drew back, Rick had that hazy, drifting look again, and the sadness had retreated.
Negan smiled softly at him. “Listen, baby. If you want to make out like teenagers on the couch all night, that’s fine by me. But if you’re agreeable, I’d like to lay you out on that bed. I made a promise to you earlier, and I’d like to make good on it.” Seems like you fucking need it, Negan added silently. The man in his arms seemed to be full of grim surprises.
Rick nodded, and then, as if remembering Negan’s earlier teasing, he whispered, “Yes.” He gave a startled jerk as Negan suddenly wound one strong arm around his waist and the other under a thigh. He stood, lifting Rick, who reflexively wrapped his legs around Negan’s waist and buried his head in his shoulder. Negan walked them over to the bed before laying Rick on it carefully. Shit, that quilt was even uglier up close. He kicked his shoes off and crawled over him, braced on his forearms.
Rick looked up at him, and his brow furrowed. “Your eyes…” he trailed off, his gaze probing. “Your eyes look so much brighter in the light.” He paused for a moment, taking in that revelation, before arching his head up in silent offering.
Negan closed the distance between their lips. He was pleased when the other man’s hands immediately slid under his shirt, exploring the warm flesh beneath the fabric. He pulled back long enough to strip it off before draping himself back over Rick, chest to chest, pressing him into the cheap mattress. He sucked lightly at the flesh of his neck, toying with the idea of marking him deliberately before pushing away the impulse. Don’t be a dick. Rick sucked in a breath and lifted his thighs to trap Negan’s hips between them. Negan rocked against him in response, and he could feel the other man’s arousal swelling against him even through the thick denim of his jeans.
“What do you want, darlin’?” he murmured against Rick’s throat, voice a sultry rumble. “Just tell me. You know, your wish is my command and all that shit.” He rose up on his arms to gaze down at the man lying beneath him.
“I don’t know,” Rick confessed, and the honest uncertainty in his eyes touched something in Negan’s chest, making it throb. “I guess I just want you to do what you said you would. Turn this shitty day around.” Rick reached up and traced the tattoo that sprawled across his chest. “I have a feelin’ you know exactly how.”
Negan grinned down at him. The light touch of his fingers on his chest was sending tingles shooting through him that converged right at his dick, and he was surprised at how much the relatively innocent touch was affecting him. “All right, officer. Tell you what. I’ll get to work, and you keep on talking to me. Let me know if you want me to keep going, stop, change direction, whatever-the-fuck. Sound like a plan?”
Rick made a quiet noise of assent in his throat, and somehow it made the tingles racing through him stronger. Negan leaned in as if to kiss him again, and when his lips were nearly brushing the other man’s, he rose and sat back on his knees. Rick’s eyes flew open, and he was so clearly bereft of the kiss he had been expecting that Negan chuckled. Rick shot him an exasperated look, smiling despite his annoyance, and Negan’s hands fell to his belt. He paused, and his teasing gaze softened, an unspoken question surfacing in his eyes.
“Yes,” Rick said quietly, his voice hardly over a whisper.
Negan undid the belt slowly, tossing it aside with a soft clank. Rick shivered beneath him as his fingers traced the flesh just above his waistband. Negan held the other man’s eyes, the ghost of a smirk sitting on his lips, as he flicked open the button of his jeans and tugged down the zipper with deliberate, teasing slowness. Rick draped an arm over his eyes, and Negan groaned in protest. “Oh, come on, blue eyes. Lost the staring contest already?”
“Shut up,” Rick muttered, smiling. Negan leaned back and tugged at his jeans. After a few moments of inelegant squirming, he managed to free Rick from them as well as his boxers. He licked his lips at the sight of the other man’s cock. Rick still had his arm determinedly clamped over his eyes, and he reached up and gave his wrist a light tug.
“I think you’re gonna wanna see this, honey,” Negan murmured before he bent his head and licked Rick slowly from root to tip. The noise Rick made in response was delicious, and Negan grinned in triumph against the soft, velvety skin. He smoothed a palm along one side of him at his base and nuzzled at the other side, trapping his cock between his hand and mouth. He heard a sharp intake of breath above him, and a hand dove into his hair. “You know what?” he murmured against the heat of Rick’s arousal. “Hold that thought for just one second.” He pulled back, and Rick’s expression was near horror. Negan chuckled as he crawled off of him and stood up. “I’m not that much of a dick, sweetheart, relax. Pull the covers - you’re gonna get cold lying there butt-ass naked.”
He walked into the bathroom and grabbed an armful of towels. Rick was slipping under the covers when he returned, and he dumped them beside him. He went over to the love seat and plucked up his discarded jacket. He threw it over the foot of the bed and crawled back over Rick, who was staring at the pile of towels beside him with some confusion. Negan chuckled as he knelt between his legs. “Yeah, Georgia, you’re gonna be a fucking mess when I’m done with you.” With that, he leaned forward and took his entire length into his mouth and throat.
Rick fell back as if he had been struck, giving a deep, wrenching moan that shivered down Negan’s spine. He bucked, predictably, and Negan moved with him, shooting him an amused glance. As he did, he was pleased to see that Rick was completely lost in it, his expression sheer, pained bliss. He steadied Rick’s hips with his hands so that he could bob smoothly over his length, and the other man writhed against him, very nearly kneeing him in the ribs in the process. Negan had to hold in a laugh. The other man’s total abandonment was cute, but he hoped to avoid both getting kicked as well as having Rick’s pubic bone slammed into his face. As far as sexual injuries went, that last one was fairly unpleasant.
Rick was smothering his cries with his hands, and Negan fought the urge to reach up and yank them away. He wanted to hear the evidence of the pleasure he was giving him, but he was trying to take care with the lovely stranger beneath him, with his mysterious bullet wounds and the deep, dark circles beneath his clear blue eyes. If that meant being a little less demanding and directive than he usually was in bed, well, he could manage that.
Negan could feel that Rick was drawing close to his peak by his increasingly frantic bucking against the hands trapping his hips in place. His hand found its way back in Negan’s hair and carded through the dark strands, the gesture unexpectedly sweet. Negan hummed around his length as he took him deep in his throat, and that seemed to be just what Rick needed to slip over the edge. His release pooled in Negan’s mouth, and he could feel the hand in his hair tugging urgently. He realized he was trying to pull him off so that he wouldn’t come down his throat, which was an act of closing the barn door after the horse got out if he ever knew one, and he would have laughed if it were possible for him in the moment.
When he was finished, he released Rick with a soft, wet noise and licked his lips, gazing up at him. The other man was covering his face with his hands, and he frowned, feeling the faintest tingle of concern. He gave the inside of Rick’s thigh a soft kiss. “You okay up there, darlin’?” he asked gently.
“Mm-hm,” the other man croaked weakly behind his hands. He reached down slowly and took Negan’s arm, tugging him up. He let himself be guided, wrapping himself around the other man’s body and burying his nose in his chestnut curls. “That was, um…” Rick faltered, clearly abashed.
Negan decided to have a little mercy. “Yeah, I know it was,” he said with a chuckle. He kissed the other man’s damp temple. “I could tell.” Rick turned his head, burying his face in his neck. Negan closed his eyes, his hand wandering over Rick’s chest. He was just resigning himself and his erection to the thought that the other man may very well drift off to sleep in his arms when Rick’s hand slid from his hip to reach between his thighs, palming the hardness there. He felt a bolt of shock shoot straight through him, and he reared back to stare at the man in his arms.
Rick met his eyes with a slight, sly smile. “You, uh…I think you need some attention.”
“Yeah? And are you gonna give it to me, Rick?” he breathed, feeling almost light-headed at the daring way Rick was handling him. In response, Rick unfastened his belt and discarded it over the edge of the bed. He hesitated, nipping at his lower lip again, and suddenly Negan’s pants were impossibly confining. He shoved them down his hips along with his briefs, kicking them both off as he noted the hungry interest in Rick’s eyes. He wanted to flip the other man over immediately and grind against that lovely backside, but he forced himself to be still and wait. He was rewarded when Rick’s eyes, hazy once again with lust, met his.
“What do you want?” Rick’s hand slid up his thigh, and he dropped his eyes to Negan’s cock again, licking his lips. “Do you want me to…” he trailed off with a flush. “Do what you did for me?”
Those full, pink lips wrapped around him? Hell, yes, but that’s not all he wanted. “You can have a taste if you want, Georgia, but I was hoping you’d let me put it in your ass. Fuck you into this shitty mattress and make you come again.” Negan reached out and ran his fingers through the chestnut curls, a little amused at the deer-in-headlights expression that briefly surfaced on Rick’s face.
The other man ducked his head. “Okay,” he said quietly, and then he shocked Negan yet again by sliding down his body to grip the base of his cock and draw him into his mouth.
Oh, shit. Negan gripped the sheets beneath his hands and gave a near-whimper. That shit was unbelievably good - the wet heat of Rick’s mouth surrounded and caressed him. He let himself get lost in it for a bit, letting the moans fall from his lips unchecked, before he reached down to pull Rick up into his arms. He attacked his lips with his, feeling a hot thrill at his own taste on Rick’s tongue. He cupped Rick’s ass roughly and slid his fingers between the soft, warm flesh to stroke over his tight entrance. Rick’s entire body tensed in his arms, and he paused, drawing back. His pulse thundered through him, making his head feel fuzzy, and he had to give himself a moment to breathe before he could focus on Rick’s face. There was a faint, anxious hesitance in the depths of his blue eyes, and Negan pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Never done this before, huh?” Negan murmured, lips brushing over damp skin.
“Actually…” Rick hesitated. “Well, that’s a long story, too.” He tried to pull Negan in for another kiss, but the other man resisted him gently, cupping his jaw and frowning down at him.
Something in the other man’s tone had caught Negan’s attention, and he scanned his blue eyes as if trying to read something written there. “Tell me,” he said, and as gentle as his tone was, it came out a command.
“It’s not important.”
“Seems important,” Negan countered softly. “Seems relevant, even.” He slid his hand up Rick’s jaw to rest on his cheek, stroking lightly with his thumb.
Rick struggled to find the words and faltered. “It’s so hard to explain it right,” he said finally.
“Explain it wrong, then, baby. It’s okay.” He hadn’t pushed about the scar, but there was something here that he sensed he needed to know before this shit went any further. The way Rick had tensed when he touched him intimately had sparked a cold, suspicious dread to life in his heart.
Rick shifted his eyes away, finding it hard to think with Negan’s gaze burning into him. His first instinct was to insist that the other man to drop it, but something in him compelled him to speak. “My best friend was in love with my wife. I knew it. She knew it. He knew we knew it. It was…complicated. When she died, he was an absolute wreck. After the funeral, we were alone in the house, and he was…inconsolable. One minute I was holding him, trying to calm him down, and the next - we were on the floor. It went too fast, and it wasn’t very…pleasant. He wasn’t trying to hurt me,” Rick amended hastily, feeling Negan stiffen and shift dangerously above him, still unable to look up and meet his eyes, “it wasn’t like that. He didn’t force himself on me. He just…wasn’t really there with me at all.”
Rick stared down at the white sheet gathered in his hand, lost in the memory. Shane had flipped him over onto his stomach and crawled over him like a desperate man, sobbing against his shoulder as he rocked into him. Rick had reached back to stroke his hair as best he could, trying in vain to comfort the man falling apart above him even as each thrust left him cringing. Shane had mounted him with nothing more than saliva on his cock and a few desperate probes with his fingers, and as Rick had said, the end result was not very pleasant. By the time his body finally began to respond, Shane was filling him with his sticky release and collapsing against his back. Fingers moving across his cheek brought him out of his reverie, and he looked up into the dark, searing eyes of the man above him.
“Lemme guess. You thought it would help him, so you let him pound on you, not sayin’ a thing.”
Rick gave a dry, humorless laugh. “That’s about it.”
“Yeah. You’re the martyr type, ain’t you, Georgia?” Negan’s fingers stroking his cheek were soothing, but his eyes pierced him as if they actually could see right through, right down to every secret hidden inside. He dropped his gaze back down to the rumpled white sheet. “So, lemme get this straight. Bad fucking day, bad car, bad sex. Anything else you need me to fix?”
Rick let out a surprised laugh, eyes snapping back up to his. “Ain’t that enough?”
Negan was smiling, but his eyes were shadowed. He leaned forward, half-draping himself over Rick, who slid a welcoming arm around his waist. “You know it’s not supposed to hurt, right? At all. Not when you go slow and do it right.” Negan was murmuring in his ear, continuing to caress the side of his face, and Rick found himself drifting on it - his voice and touch cradling him.
“Yeah,” he managed.
Negan shifted until his forehead was almost touching Rick’s. “Is that what you want? You want me to show you? It’s fine if you don’t. There’s a lot more in heaven and earth, sexually speaking, than taking a dick in your ass.”
Rick smiled faintly at that. “I do,” he replied in a whisper. “I trust you.” He surprised himself with that last one. It had just fallen out of his mouth. But he did trust him, somehow, as inexplicable as it was - this utter stranger with the sharp-toothed, wolfish smirk who riled him one moment and soothed him the next. He didn’t know why, but he did, and at least so far that trust had not been misplaced.
Negan had been struck silent, about as rare an occurrence as a lunar-fucking-eclipse, and he dropped his eyes from Rick’s soft gaze. This was turning out to be one hell of a fraught fuck. When he first saw the handsome, tired-eyed man in the garage, he figured he was having a shit day, singular. Dead wife, rude-ass in-laws, bullet wound, shitty, oblivious friend slamming on him like he was a blow-up doll - that was shit, plural, accumulating into a goddamn shit avalanche. That last one made him fucking itchy, too - he could practically see Rick gritting his teeth and taking it. His best friend, he had said. That rat bastard, he thought, swallowing the hot swell of rage.
His fingers ran over the scar below Rick’s shoulder, lingering there for a moment. “I’m sorry about all the bad shit that happened to you, Rick Grimes.” He struggled for else, something gentle and comforting, but his natural irreverence won. “If it’s any consolation, I’m gonna make you come so hard tonight that every time you think back on it your dick’s gonna leak.”
Rick smothered a laugh and wrapped his arms around Negan’s neck, pulling him close to his face. “You’re sweet,” he breathed, lips brushing his.
Negan gave a surprised chuckle. “Sweet, huh? I don’t hear that very often.”
“Well, you’ve been sweet to me,” Rick replied softly, running his fingers along the dark, scratchy stubble at his cheek.
You’re easy to be sweet to, Georgia, Negan thought as he kissed the man beneath him hungrily, tongue dipping into his mouth. Hell, he had wanted to take the other man into his arms practically from the moment he saw him. Had he told himself that he had hooked Rick, seduced his way into his motel bed? Yeah fucking right. The blue-eyed man had all but brought him to heel with a look and a shy smile. The soft gratitude he sensed in him now was making him melt like a fucking ice cream cone, and he had never been so goddamned pleased to be brought to his knees like this.
Rick wrapped a leg around his, his ankle sliding up his calf. Negan felt like he could spend hours this way, in the engrossing back-and-forth of their mouths, but he was aware all over again of his erection, flushed and aching, against Rick’s warm skin. Negan reached down to his discarded jacket and rummaged in the pockets for a moment. He pulled out several packets of lubricant and tossed them on rumpled sheets. Rick rose to his elbows and looked down at them before meeting Negan’s eyes, his expression equal parts embarrassed and amused.
“What?” Negan asked, smirk tugging the side of his mouth. “I’m a motherfucking optimist, Rick.”
“I can see that,” Rick returned, settling back against the pillow.
Negan reached over and plucked up the pillow on the other side of the bed. He wrapped it in a towel and nudged it at Rick’s hip, and the other man took the hint and lifted himself up so that Negan could slide the pillow beneath him. He reclined beside Rick, propped up on one elbow, and laid his free hand on a warm thigh. “Turn onto your side.”
Rick did, slowly, and the flash of uneasiness Negan saw in his eyes before he did cut him. He pressed himself flush against his back, slipping an arm beneath his waist and wrapping a hand around his cock. Rick gasped, and his head fell back against Negan’s shoulder.
“Let me explain how this is gonna go, darlin’,” he murmured into Rick’s ear. “I’m gonna work you open real slow. And personally? I think you’re gonna love it.” He punctuated that with a firm stroke, and Rick made a hungry noise in his throat. “But if you don’t? If something feels wrong? You need to fucking say something right away. You do not fucking lie there and let me touch you some way you don’t want. Deal?”
Rick licked his lips slowly and reached back, tracing a hand slowly up Negan’s thigh. “Deal,” he whispered.
Negan tore open a packet with his teeth, coating his fingers. He stroked Rick slowly as he reached down to his ass with his other hand, sliding his slick fingers over the soft ring of muscle there. He felt him flinch before relaxing back against him. “You know what?” Negan purred against his neck.
“W-what?” Rick managed in a strangled tone.
Negan grinned against him, and Rick could feel his teeth on his neck. “I think when I’m all done revving you up, you might just beg me to put my dick inside you.”
Rick gave a breathy chuckle, squeezing Negan’s thigh. “I guess we’ll see,” he said almost primly. Negan ran his thumb over the wet, sensitive tip of his cock in response, and he moaned softly, turning his face into the pillow beneath him.
Negan bent his lips to his neck as he teased his opening with gentle pressure, and Rick moaned beneath him again, the sound rippling through him deliciously. He nipped at his neck as he breached him gently, pausing when he felt Rick tense around him. He moved his lips to his ear. “Breathe,” he whispered, moving his hand over his cock in smooth, slow, skillful strokes. Rick let out a whimper as he relaxed around Negan’s finger, which resumed its quest within him. A moment later, Rick shuddered and gasped. Negan grinned against his soft curls. He slid his finger over the spot he had found again, pressing his lips against Rick’s ear. “That’s real fuckin’ good, isn’t it, baby?”
Rick couldn’t answer - he had all but slammed his entire face into the pillow to muffle his cries. Negan’s hand quickened its pace on Rick’s cock before he slid another finger inside, pausing to allow him time to adjust. Rick was rocking back against him in time to his stroking, breathing in shallow pants punctuated by the occasional faint moan. When Negan was satisfied that Rick had relaxed enough around him - and he had, based on the way he was fucking himself on Negan’s fingers - he began to work him open gently, stroking him from the inside, urging the muscles to soften and take him.
Rick let out a sobbing gasp as Negan’s fingers assaulted the sensitive spot deep inside him. “Oh, Jesus,” he ground out, the words muffled in the pillow as he pressed it to his face with both hands.
Negan snorted and nipped his shoulder sharply, grinning. “Don’t call another man’s name when you’re in bed with me, Rick. That’s just fucking rude.” He squeezed the base of his cock just as he pressed mercilessly against his prostate, and Rick’s entire body jolted as he just about screamed into the pillow. Negan chuckled behind him, satisfied. “Aw, honey. Did you like that?”
“Please,” Rick nearly wailed, and an almost savage triumph burned through Negan. He withdrew his fingers and sat up, turning Rick onto his back and crawling between his thighs. Rick blinked up at him dazedly, looking utterly lost in the fog of his pleasure. Negan relished the sight as he stroked himself, coating his cock with lubricant.
“Please what, Rick?” he asked, his voice a breathy growl, as he seized one leg beneath the knee and yanked his hips up and against him. He held himself with his other hand, guiding the tip of his cock against Rick’s entrance. “Well?”
Rick’s eyes cleared slightly as he realized what he wanted. “Don’t be a dick,” he panted, smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.
Negan gave a full-throated bellow of pure mirth. “Come on, Georgia, I said I’d make you beg. Beg me, goddamn it.” He pressed against him, barely breaching the softened ring.
Rick’s head snapped back, throat working convulsively. “Negan, please,” he gasped breathlessly. “Please!”
Negan gently slid into him a few inches, and the effort of holding back was almost painful - particularly in light of the noises Rick was making. But if there was something he was willing to endure pain for, it was for the sake of ruthless teasing. “Please what, Rick?”
“Oh, you…you…” Rick bucked against him, trying to take him deeper, but Negan gripped his hips and steadied him, practically biting his lip in half with the effort of keeping still. Rick’s head fell back against the pillow in defeat, and his lashes fluttered. “Negan, please, I want you inside,” he said breathily, and the other man smirked above him, the picture of satisfied glee. Rick reached down and covered one of the hands at his hips with his, and a surprisingly powerful tenderness spread, thick and hot, through Negan’s chest.
“Ask and ye shall receive,” Negan murmured. He sheathed himself slowly, gently within Rick, slipping a hand down to his thigh to rub soothingly as he did. The other man panted and trembled beneath him, his half-lidded eyes hazy with lust. “Fuck,” Negan breathed shakily when he was up to the hilt in him, “you are so fucking gorgeous.” He watched, fascinated, as Rick’s flush returned, blossoming dark pink on his face, throat, and chest.
“Negan,” Rick sighed, brow creasing. “That feels so…so…” he trailed off, eyes falling shut, as he arched his hips up urgently.
Negan groaned in response and tightened his hold on Rick’s hip, fingers sinking into the warm flesh. “Slow down, cowboy. Give it a second.” Rick shook his head wordlessly and rolled his hips again, wrenching another groan from him. “Baby, come on. I’m not fucking teasing you, I just don’t want to hurt you.”
“Not hurting me,” Rick moaned, and the hand overlaying Negan’s at his hip clutched convulsively. “You’re not.” Negan licked his lips slowly and withdrew, giving a careful, experimental thrust. Rick nearly crushed his hand in his grip as he let out a long, deep moan.
“Is that okay?” Negan asked, voice strained, as he rocked gently into him, already knowing the answer from the expression on Rick’s face.
Rick’s lips moved soundlessly for a moment before he managed to croak out a “Y-yes.”
Negan angled Rick’s hip up and ground slowly against him, and the other man let out a low wail before crushing the pillow against his face again to muffle the noise. Negan gave a rumble of displeasure. “Again with the fuckin’ pillow, Georgia? Don’t do that, baby. Let me see you. Let me hear you. Come on.”
Rick reluctantly shifted the pillow and peeked over its crisp white edge, his blue eyes sheepish. “Whole…motel…is gonna hear me,” he protested, panting as he slid against the sheets in time with Negan’s languid thrusts. “People…trying to…sleep.”
Negan laughed breathlessly above him. “You know what, darlin’? I don’t think you should give a shit about that or what’s going on with anyone else right now. I think you should focus on what’s going on with you, and the things I’m making you feel with my dick.” He underlined that with another slow grind against him, and Rick gave a harsh cry, wrapping a strong leg around his waist and trying to drag him even closer. “That’s the spirit,” Negan growled, and the candid delight in his voice dissolved the tenuous grip Rick had on his self-control.
Negan could practically see it leave him - his head fell back as he relaxed against the stark white cotton of the motel sheets and gave himself over completely to Negan’s sway. Breathy moans spilled from his parted lips, and each one felt like a lick of flame against Negan’s overheated skin. He wanted to burn the image into his brain - this handsome, vulnerable stranger spread open for him, expression nearly transcendent with bliss. He didn’t look so tired or so anxious now, that was for damn sure. He couldn’t help himself - he had to gloat a little. “How’s your day going now, Rick?”
The other man laughed, and Negan drank it in, answering his merriment with a sharp, wolfish grin. “It’s better,” he gasped out, and his hand slid over Negan’s again, wandering up his forearm.
“Mmm. That’s good, darlin’. That’s just what I wanna hear.” Negan shifted on his knees, leaning forward and seizing Rick’s hips with both hands. Rick’s heated gaze fell on him, and he gave him a slow wink. “Hold on.”
“Hold on to what?” Rick shot back, but whatever additional sass was forthcoming was obliterated in the ensuing onslaught. Negan thrust hard and fast and straight against that delicious send-me-to-outer-space spot, and Rick couldn’t suppress his cries if he wanted to. He did hold on, fingers biting into Negan’s forearm and the flesh of his thigh as he bounced with the force of his thrusts. When Negan’s hand wrapped tightly around his cock, his breath stuttered in his chest, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of something ready to swallow him whole.
Negan leaned even closer, not letting up one bit on his galloping pace. “Say my fucking name, Georgia,” he growled, and he slapped Rick’s thigh hard where it met the curve of his ass.
It was as if the lit fuse of his arousal had finally burned down to its explosive source. Rick’s release flared through him like spreading fire; he wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought he was obediently shrieking Negan’s name. He felt the wetness spread on his thighs and inside him, and he heard a low, nearly agonized moan from the man above him.
Negan collapsed forward, catching himself on his arms before he fell straight onto Rick, who looked like he probably wouldn’t have registered it anyway. God damn it, that had just about been an out-of-body experience. He sat back slowly on his knees and tried to breathe through his heart jack-hammering against his ribs. He looked down at the man beneath him, and he had to take a moment to allow the filthy thrill that ran through him at the sight of Rick’s muscular belly and thighs streaked with come. Rick’s eyes were closed - had he already passed right out? Negan chuckled as he grabbed a towel and got to work cleaning up the fucking mess they had made.
He saw Rick’s eyes flutter, and he realized he was trying to open them. “Go to sleep, honey,” he murmured. “You fucking earned it.” He leaned back and pitched the soiled towels into the open door of the bathroom before reaching over Rick to click off the bedside lamp. He sank beside him, pulling the covers over them and wrapping himself around the warm body still damp with sweat. He felt Rick sleepily nestle against him and kissed the disheveled curls at his temple. His last thought before he drifted to sleep was that he owed Bud several cases of beer.
—
Negan nearly tripped over the bundle of towels sprawled on the floor of the bathroom the next morning. Dawn was just breaking, and only the faintest golden light crept beneath the curtains of the small room. The interior of the small bathroom was barely illuminated at all, and Negan had to blindly twist at knobs before the water in the shower ran a decent temperature. He supposed he could have turned the light on, but Rick was sleeping soundly, and he didn’t want to disturb him. He rolled his shoulders and neck slowly under the hot, soothing spray, a smile settling on his lips at the thought of the man sleeping peacefully in the motel bed.
Rick. Hell of a fucking ride. As soon as the thought rose up in his mind, he frowned, the taste of it sour. He was more than that - hadn’t they crashed right through what felt like months of progressive intimacy in the space of an evening? He considered himself a connoisseur of casual one-night stands, and that shit had been anything but casual. What Rick had told him, trusted him with - it had gotten right under his skin and stayed there. The memory of his troubled blue eyes on him as he traced the scar on his shoulder flooded him, and something ached in his chest.
Negan scrubbed his soapy fingers through his wet hair. Shit, he thought, resigned. You fucking idiot.
He let the water cascade over him and rinse the last traces of soap away. He reached back and twisted a knob, apparently choosing the wrong one and consequently letting out a string of hissed curses as the water suddenly turned ice-cold. He twisted the other knob rapidly and reached out of the stall to pluck one of the last remaining clean towels up from the metal rack above the sink. He dried himself as he stepped out of the shower. The light of dawn had grown stronger, and now everything in the small bathroom was bathed in a delicate golden-pink glow.
He wrapped the towel around his waist as he padded softly out of the bathroom, and he met Rick’s sleepy blue eyes with a rueful smile. “Shit. Did I wake you up?”
Rick muffled a yawn against his hand and held out an arm to Negan. The simple want in the gesture touched off that ache in his chest again, and he walked to the side of the bed and sank down beside him. “Why are you up so early?” Rick murmured, curling his arm around the damp waist.
“I need to head down to the garage, darlin’.”
Rick gave a soft grunt of surprise. “Already? D’you think the…the part came? From Nor’ Carolina?” Negan grinned down at Rick, unable to hide his amusement. The man was still half-asleep, and his already thick drawl was pure syrup and nearly unintelligible. Negan smoothed a hand through his hair.
“Nah. Probably won’t be here for a few hours.”
Rick blinked at him and reached up, slowly catching the hand in his hair. “Then stay here,” he said, and as soon as he did, his eyes dropped shyly.
Arousal unfurled lazily in him, reaching down to his thighs and between his hips, and Negan sank his teeth into his lower lip for a moment in an effort to control himself. “Baby, you have no idea how good that sounds. But I want to take another look at that car. Make sure I didn’t miss anything. Can’t have you breaking down halfway home to Georgia, can I? Then you might fuck some other mechanic and break my fucking heart.”
Rick groaned and shoved his shoulder. “Shu’up. Never done this before in my life.”
Negan’s grin softened slightly at that. “You need to get some sleep, anyway. You won’t get any if I crawl back into bed with you, you best believe that.” Negan slid his hand under the sheets and down Rick’s belly, raking his fingers lightly through the rough curls near his cock. Rick’s breath caught in his throat, and his eyes fluttered shut. “Exactly,” Negan murmured, giving a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile. “So catch a few more hours and then go get breakfast. I’m serious, Rick, go eat some fucking breakfast. Okay? No more bullshit starving yourself. Then come down to the garage at nine-thirty. Shit’ll probably be ready to go by then.”
Rick opened his eyes, and there was a flash of that razor blade in his sleepy gaze. “Jesus, you real goddamn bossy,” he drawled, words sticking to each other as they poured drowsily from him.
Negan gave a delighted chuckle, tongue between his teeth. “Aw, honey. You don’t even know.” He bent and kissed his lips gently, pulling the covers to his chin as he stood up. Rick’s eyes slid closed again. Negan dressed himself quietly. He picked up his jacket and hesitated. It was cold in the mornings before the sun had a chance to do its thing. He draped it over Rick before standing back and rubbing his jaw. You fucking sap, he thought, turning towards the door with a grin.
—
“Heard you scared up a part for this job lickety-split,” Bud said from somewhere behind him, and Negan pulled his head out of the car and straightened.
“Yeah,” he said, wiping his hand on a rag. “Wasn’t fucking easy. Trucker’s bringin’ it. No one around here had shit.”
“Yeah, I heard you called around. Kid, you gotta work on your fuckin’ phone etiquette. You know? Try some diplomacy.”
Negan dipped his head back and laughed. “Don’t tell me those fucking princesses complained to you.”
“Just one princess. You really tell Primo you’d head down there with a tire iron if he didn’t drop what he was doing to check his inventory?”
“No, he’s a fucking liar. I said ‘baseball bat,’ not ‘tire iron.’”
Bud cracked a grin. “Well, at least you’re providing some fuckin’ customer service for once.”
Negan flashed his teeth at him in a grin. You got no idea, old man.
“Well, speak of the devil,” Bud said, craning his head. A truck was lumbering up the side of the road, and Negan tossed the rag aside, striding out to meet it.
He was just tightening the last bolt on the fateful carburetor when someone sidled up quietly to him. He knew it was Rick without looking, and he stood and turned to him, tossing his wrench aside. Rick was holding his folded jacket in his arms, looking neat and freshly showered. Negan was struck immediately by how much better he looked than yesterday - the dark circles had faded, and that pinched, worried expression was off his face. Amazing what two square meals, a good night’s sleep, and solid, screaming fuck could do. “Well?” he asked, crossing his arms. “Did you eat some fucking breakfast or what?”
Rick’s eyes flashed at him, and he tilted his head. “Yes…daddy,” he said. He smirked in satisfaction as the riposte landed and shock briefly took over Negan’s expression.
Negan leaned against the car with a muffled oath, feeling his dick respond immediately. “You’re really lucky I’m not into that voyeur shit, Grimes, because I could bend you right over this fucking car right now. Which is now ready to fucking drive, thanks to me.”
Rick looked up at him, and the mischief in his eyes faded, replaced by a cautious hope. “Is it really?”
Negan closed the hood of the car carefully. “Sure is, Georgia. You can get back on the road, get those rugrats of yours. You can give their shitty, judgmental grandparents a swift kick in the ass for me while you’re at it.”
Rick smiled and held out the jacket in his arms. “Thank you,” he said softly, and Negan realized all over again how much he enjoyed hearing those two words from the other man. Rick shuffled his feet. “How much do I owe you?”
Negan shook his head, pulling his jacket on. “Just fucking…forget it. Just forget that. It’s on me.”
Rick’s eyes on him were wide. “I can’t do that.”
“‘Course you can, it’s - “
“I can’t! Not after last night,” Rick said, dropping his voice, and his face was flaming.
Negan couldn’t help himself - startled laughter rang out from him and bent him over at the waist. “Oh, shit, officer,” he wheezed. “Are you vice? Is that it? Aw, come on. What’s wrong with a little whoring if the situation calls for it?”
Rick reached out and punched him in the shoulder. Not so fucking gently, either. “That really ain’t funny,” he said, but his lips were twitching.
“Okay, okay, look - you wrote down your address and shit on your paperwork when you first came in here, right? We’ll send you the fucking bill. Okay?” Rick was giving him a skeptical look, and he sighed theatrically. “Look, here’s the fucking - Bud!” He waved the man over. “Bud, this is Officer Rick Grimes. Rick, Bud used to be a cop a hundred fucking years ago, so there you fucking go. We’re all fucking friends now. Bud, we can send this fine officer of the law the bill in the mail, can’t we?”
Bud had reached over to shake Rick’s proffered hand. “Sure, son. You county law, or…?”
“Yeah. Deputy. Thank you, sir, I appreciate that.”
“Don’t mention it, son. Glad Negan could set you to rights.”
Negan watched the red flush bloom on Rick’s cheeks with a nearly sadistic amusement. “That’s exactly what I did, Bud. It’s like you were saying: customer service. I take it very fucking seriously,” Negan said solemnly.
Bud shot him a puzzled look. “Well, I’ll let you boys finish up. Drive safe, deputy.”
“Customer service, huh?” Rick said under his breath as Bud moved away.
“Yeah. You’re a customer, and I serviced you good.” Negan rocked back on his heels and regarded him as Rick snorted a helpless laugh into his hand. “Did you write down your number for us, Rick?”
Rick looked over at him, hand still on his mouth. “Why would you need my number?”
“Customer service satisfaction survey,” Negan said with an absolutely straight face, and Rick laughed again. Negan smiled at him, warm and genuine. His laughter pleased him almost as much as his thanks.
Rick was shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s real. I think you just want my number for yourself,” he said, eyes dancing.
Negan licked his lips, and he decided to drop the teasing facade. “I do, Rick. Do you wanna give it to me? You don’t fucking have to, but I’d…like it if you did.”
Rick blinked, catching the shift in his tone. “You already have it. It’s in your pocket,” he said, ducking his head.
Negan blinked at him and fumbled in the pockets of his jacket. He drew out a folded slip of paper and shook his head. “You sneaky bitch,” he murmured, shooting him a look. His eyes were still on the floor, and Negan slipped the paper back in his pocket and drew out the keys to the car. He stepped forward and put a hand on the small of Rick’s back. Rick looked up, startled, and Negan pressed the keys in his hand. “Moment of truth, darlin'.”
Rick walked to the driver’s side and slipped inside. Negan followed, standing beside him with his arms crossed. Rick reached out and slipped the key into the ignition. He paused, and his brow furrowed, anxiety suddenly hanging heavy over him.
Negan sighed and bent into the open door, reaching over him and putting his gloved hand over his. He locked his eyes on Rick’s as he twisted, turning the keys beneath Rick’s hand. The car roared to life beneath them, and Negan grinned at the relief that flooded Rick’s eyes. “You got no faith, Rick. I told you I would get you back on the road. Didn’t you fucking believe me? I - “
Rick wrapped one arm around his neck and covered his lips with his, kissing him hard enough to take his breath away. Negan braced one knee against the driver’s seat, head swimming. Well, shit. Rick pulled back slowly. “Thank you,” he breathed, and Negan was fully arrested in the moment, pinned by his eyes and the sight of his lips, still wet with the kiss.
“Any time, Georgia,” he said finally, when he had collected himself. He withdrew reluctantly from where he was leaning into the car and stepped back so that Rick could shut the door. He did, with a hesitant look in his eyes, like there was something left that he wanted to say. “See you around,” Negan said in a soft, insinuating murmur, dropping a wink at him as a smile curled the corner of his mouth.
He flushed immediately, buckling his seatbelt with his eyes glued to the steering wheel. “Yeah,” he replied shyly. “See you around.”
He watched him drive off until the car sank with the gently sloping hills, out of sight. He heard Bud’s heavy footsteps approach.
“Why didn’t you want that boy to pay upfront?” the man asked curiously.
“Because I don’t want you to charge him for the labor.”
“Uh-huh,” Bud replied, unamused. “Who’s paying for the labor, then?”
Negan rolled his eyes. “Me, jackass. Take it out of my fucking paycheck.” He could feel Bud’s incredulous stare on him. “What? His old lady died and left him with a couple of kids. He ain’t driving that shitty fucking antique for fun. I just…” He shrugged, staring down the road where the car had disappeared, trailing off.
Bud snorted beside him. “Well, what do you fuckin’ know. You do have a tiny little moth-eaten heart somewhere in there, kid.”
Negan turned towards him with a sarcastic smile, mentally subtracting the cases of beer he was going to buy him back down to one. “Fuck you, Bud. I have a totally normal-sized moth-eaten heart.” The man walked off, shaking his head, and Negan looked back towards the road. He reached into his pocket and ran his fingers over the folded slip of paper.
Not done with you, yet, Georgia, he thought. He turned back into the bustling garage, whistling as he strolled towards Bud’s office, intent on swiping another beer.