Work Text:
Well, this isn’t exactly fucking ideal. It’s one thing for Rick to be stubborn, obstinate and intractable like a wild horse, the metal bit between its teeth barely helping to do so much as turn its head. Negan likes that fiery spirit; it gets him rock-fucking-hard to see the muscles in Rick’s cheek tense in barely-concaled rage—that shit is hot.
It’s another fucking thing entirely for Rick to plot rebellion against him, to scavenge guns and make deals with other communities. Seeing Rick trying to change things, to get Negan’s own goddamn boot off his neck—that shit can’t fly. Rick wanting to kill him? Fine, beautiful. Rick trying to kill him? In the right circumstances, he could even let that slide. Hell, he had with the kid. Rick actually thinking he has a snowball’s chance in hell of making good on his word to end his life? Fucking unallowable; absolutely intolerable.
“Now, when I said I’d let you choose who was gonna get up close and personal with Lucille, I can’t say I thought this would be the fucking call.” Negan paces behind Rick, eyes flicking down to see the blood seeping through his shirt where his hand’s pressed tight to his side. Red’s a good color on him.
He can feel Rick watching as he comes to a stop at Carl’s side, but the boy himself keeps staring straight ahead. Negan scoffs and uses Lucille to tilt the hat he’s got on back by the brim until it falls off his head. “Am I not keeping you entertained, kid? The least you could fucking do is glare at me before I smash your head in.” Negan’s gaze returns to Rick, staring deep into his stony blue eyes. Tears are pooling in them, catching in the lashes but refusing to fall. That’ll change soon enough.
“Isn’t that what you were doing, Rick? I mean, correct me if I’m fucking wrong, but it sure as shit seems to me that you’ve just been trying to offer your boy up to me on a silver goddamn platter.” Negan smiles, broad and mean, and watches Rick’s face twitch again. If he didn’t have him by the short and curlies, Negan knows Rick wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between his eyes. Or maybe he’d draw it out, make it hurt, but as it is, all Rick can do is give him that icy glare.
“See, I don’t know what the fuck I could have done to make it clearer to you,” Negan starts, swaggering forward to draw a few steps closer to Rick, “but I’ve already let him live twice when I would’ve fucking obliterated anyone else. That little psycho,” he points behind himself at Carl and watches Rick’s eyes sweep slowly between the two of them—there’s that deep rage in his expression, but also a hollow acceptance, and that pisses Negan off all the more, “should be missing a lot more than his eye. And since you keep fucking insisting, I’m gonna have to kill him.”
“You’re gonna do whatever you’re gonna do. It doesn’t matter, in the end. Because I’m going to kill you. All of you. You’re already dead.” Rick’s fury is evident, but the man doesn’t even protest. He’s barely even there, not bothering to fight back against the threat on his son’s fucking life. Negan can feel a vein throbbing in his forehead, anger boiling over inside him. It isn’t supposed to be like this. He rears back and swings Lucille in a short arc, not bothering to put his full power into the blow that meets Rick’s injured side with a horrible wet noise.
Rick doubles over and yelps like a kicked dog, eyes squeezing shut and forcing tears down his cheeks. It wouldn’t surprise Negan if he’s cracked a rib or two of Rick’s. He hears Carl’s sharp inhale from behind him, but he barely pays it any mind. “Do you understand what you’re making me do?” He squats down and grabs Rick by the chin, forcing him to look into his face. Rick bares his teeth—whether it’s pain or anger, Negan doesn’t care. “Don’t you fucking get it? Why are you making this so goddamn hard?”
Negan falls back less than gracefully when Rick lunges at him, someone’s teeth almost catching his throat for the second time in ten minutes. Goddamn. “Fucking animal!” Negan spits, and he slams his palm into Rick’s nose. The blow slows Rick enough for Negan to stumble to his feet, and he shoves the end of Lucille into Rick’s chest to knock him onto his back.
“Bind them and get them loaded on the truck. Separate trucks. Can’t have them talking to each other, now can we?” Negan leans on Lucille, driving the breath out of Rick, who still looks absolutely murderous. “Not until I’ve taught my favorite rebels some goddamn manners.”
Saviors quickly close in to follow Negan’s orders, securing Carl’s hands behind his back before pulling Rick to his feet and tying his wrists together. They take the guns from the both of them and start leading them toward the trucks. Negan sweeps Carl’s hat from the ground and taps it against his thigh to get the dust off before he saunters past his prisoners and tugs Rick’s axe free from its sheath with his free hand.
“Maybe you can earn these back.” He offers a wink as he turns to observe the chaos in the streets of Alexandria. Sucks to suck. They deserve it.
Negan turns to Simon. “Set them up real special while I get these sorry shits their due.” He tucks Rick’s axe into his own belt and pushes the hat into Simon’s hands. “Absolutely no funny business with these pricks. I don’t want anyone touching them; hell, I don’t want anyone fucking looking at them until I’ve left my mark. You catch my fucking drift?”
Simon nods and grins. “Sure thing, boss.” What a fucking kissass. He’ll get the job done well enough. Negan has business to take care of here in the meantime.
It’s a few hours later that Negan’s finally returning to the Sanctuary, dried blood starting to flake off Lucille’s pockmarked surface. He’s long since cleaned his own face of the gore that had covered it in the aftermath of his—well, he supposes the Alexandrians would call it a rampage, but he prefers to think of it as a demonstration of power. In any fucking case, it sure as shit hadn’t satisfied his desire to make Rick fucking suffer.
Which is what has him whistling jauntily as he hops out of the truck’s cab into the Sanctuary’s yard. Eugene looks practically goddamn green as he stumbles out of another vehicle, and Negan considers toying with him, but he doesn’t really want to keep Rick waiting any longer. There’ll be plenty of time to show off later, and, with any luck, he’ll be able to make it a real fucking spectacle.
Negan makes his way through the halls of the factory with a spring in his step, mood significantly improved after the murder—punishment; it’s vital to secure order for protection to be worth a damn—in Alexandria. It’s not hard to find what he’s looking for; nothing’s denied to him in his own goddamn home, and he decides to take a stroll past Carl before he goes to pay a visit to Rick.
He taps Lucille against the cell door three times and pauses to listen. Nothing. “Step away from the door, kid, or you won’t like what happens next.” Shuffling from behind the door.
Negan grins to himself and unlatches the bolt, cracking the door far enough open to see Carl standing next to a threadbare sleeping bag, harshly illuminated by the light from an electric lantern. Carl’s one-eyed glare bores into him from across the small concrete room. His hands are free, and they raise to catch the scratchy blanket that Negan lobs at him.
“Don’t look so fucking sour.” Negan bares his teeth in something like a smile and takes a step into the room, pointing Lucille in Carl’s direction. “I’m not gonna take your other eye so long as daddy fucking dearest shows me he can behave.”
Carl watches the bat, but his face doesn’t betray any fear. God, Negan loves this fucking kid. What a goddamn champ.
“Who did you kill?” Carl asks. His voice sounds choked, like he’s swallowing tears. Negan revels in it, savors the sound of the boy putting on a brave face and trying to keep acting all badass. It’s endearing, in a pathetic sort of way.
“You don’t think I learn the name of every poor son-of-a-bitch I have working for me, do you?” Negan tilts his head playfully. “Some blond prick. A woman—see, I’m equal opportunity like that. A lot of people, you know, they won’t kill a woman, but I don’t give a fuck what you are: if you break the rules, you gotta be punished. You know how it is.”
The look that crosses Carl’s face almost makes Negan laugh. This fucking kid just cannot be cowed. It’s incredible. He’s going to have so much fun with him.
“I’ll be back sometime to let you know if Rick wants you blinded or not.” Negan steps back with a shrug. His fingers itch to confiscate the bandage wrapped around Carl’s head that hides the gaping hole in his face, but the situation isn’t quite right. He can wait for the perfect moment later; he doesn’t have the time to break Carl down right now, no matter how much fun it would be.
“No hard feelings. If it were up to me, I’d just iron your bad side and be done with it, but Rick’s got my fucking hands tied. Metaphorically speaking.” Negan goes to turn on his heel and leave for now, but Carl’s inhale catches his ear, and he turns to listen.
“My dad’s gonna kill you.” Negan can’t help the wild grin that instantly contorts his face at those words. “And if he doesn’t, I will. I’ll fucking kill you.” Carl’s voice breaks, and Negan chuckles low in his throat. How fucking delightful. The little badass is back in business.
“I’m looking forward to it.” Negan leaves the cell and latches the door behind him, mood only further lifted. This day really has turned around; Negan’s never been quite so goddamn excited to meet with a prisoner before.
He swings Lucille up onto his shoulder and digs in his pocket with his other hand, fingers wrapping around the smooth leather pieces he had put in there for safekeeping when he’d gotten Carl’s blanket from a storeroom. Negan tugs the collar free and lets it fall across his knuckles as he grips the metal buckle against his palm, the ring on the front catching a glare in the overhead light. He can already imagine how good the dark material is going to look contrasted against Rick’s pale throat.
His musings take him all the way to the door of his own bedroom, and Negan knocks perfunctorily before throwing the door open and striding inside. His eyes immediately fall on Rick—bare chest heaving and bandage wrapped messily around his gunshot wound, bruises from Lucille already turning purple on his side. His shoulders are twisted, hands still bound behind him, and he’s been lashed by the neck to the foot of Negan’s bed. Not exactly what Negan had fucking wanted to see when he opened the door, but not really unexpected, either. Predictable asshole.
“Did you give them hell, sweetheart?” Negan asks, circling around his foe, now brought low before him. Rick remains silent, only glowering up at him. “Was it worth it?” Hate burns in Rick’s eyes, and blood trickles from his nose. It doesn’t look broken; the men likely went easy on him during the restraining process to keep in line with Negan’s orders.
“I got you something,” Negan says in a sing-song tone. “And I know you’re gonna fucking love it.” He stands right next to Rick, close enough for them to brush against each other if he shifts his weight, and sets the collar on the bed behind Rick. The other man doesn’t try to turn to get a look at it, but the bright red burns on his neck show that he hadn’t been above fighting the rope at one point.
Negan leans Lucille against the footboard and draws his hunting knife, leveling the point in Rick’s face. “Now, you’re gonna have to trust me for this part, or you’re gonna get a nasty new accessory. I’m not about to let you kill yourself on my knife, but if you want me to maim you… I won’t say no.” He gets closer, squatting down and tilting Rick’s chin back further than he really needs to in order to get at the rope. The knife’s tip slips in beneath the binding, and Negan pauses.
“Any sudden move, and my hand is gonna slip in a way I can promise will not be fucking pleasant for you.” Negan digs the point into Rick’s soft throat and lets a bead of blood form beneath it. “And if you get yourself sent to the infirmary, that means I’ll only have Carl for company. You want me spending all that time with your boy?”
A muscle in Rick’s face twitches. His mouth trembles. Negan’s about to demand an answer when Rick finally speaks up. “No.” His voice is as rough as the binding wrapped around his neck, and it suits him well. Rugged just like his persona.
That’s all he says, but that’s all Negan fucking needs. “That’s it,” he encourages, tipping the knife so it slices easily through the rope holding Rick down. “Don’t go making this harder than it has to be.”
Rick doesn’t lunge at him, which Negan will take as a goddamn victory. It’s a better start than he’d thought they’d have. “Since you’re being so good for me, why don’t I show you your present?” Negan snatches the collar off the bed and sets the knife in its place. He dangles the strip of leather in front of Rick, whose eyes never leave his face.
“I mean, it still needs a fucking tag,” he takes each end in one hand, holding it up in front of Rick’s chafed throat, “I was thinking a little heart with Rick on the one side and Negan’s bitch on the other, but it’ll take some time. But it’s all the same fucking symbolism, isn’t it?”
There’s still no sign of resistance from Rick, other than that cold, stony glare, so Negan lays the leather across his skin. He slides the smooth material around Rick’s neck so the silver buckle is in front and fastens it around the proud column of his throat. A drop of blood from the small nick of Negan’s knife catches on the upper edge of the collar, and Negan suddenly realizes exactly how hard he’s gotten in the last few minutes. Good goddamn.
“And if I let you do this, you won’t hurt Carl?” Rick asks. He’s watching Negan, fucking appraising him, and Negan feels the need to puff his chest out with pride at the inspection.
“Rick, you’re not letting me do a goddamn thing,” Negan reminds him, wiping the droplet of blood away with his thumb and digging in just a little too hard with his nail as he does. “But I gotta say, you sure do fucking fascinate me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I found about about the fucking forty of my men you murdered in their sleep.” His smile is full of faux sweetness and clear predatory intent, and Rick still doesn’t look away. The fucking balls on him… it’s intoxicating.
“I’ll offer you the same deal I give all my whores. With some little… let’s say, modifications.” Negan pulls the leash from his pocket and clips it to the ring at the front of Rick’s collar, giving it a light, testing tug. He can feel Rick seething, and it goes straight to his already half-mast dick.
“You do everything I say, when I say it, no hesitation, and I won’t do anything to Carl he doesn’t ask me for himself. I’ll even keep my people off him, too.” Negan wraps his end of the leash around his fist and gives it a good yank, forcing Rick to stand as Negan gets to his feet. “And the second you piss me off, it’s his ass on the line, not yours. I’ll make you do things to him that’ll make you wish you were dead. Now that’s a damn fine deal, don’t you think?”
“And that’s what I am to you? Your whore?” The judgment and hatred are crystal clear in Rick’s glare, but Negan can tell—fucking knows—he’s not going to be stupid enough to say no.
“You’re whatever I need you to be, Rick.” Negan grins. He strokes his thumb along Rick’s cheek in a mockery of tenderness, and Rick tilts his head away from him, eyes narrowed. Negan chuckles darkly. “But I dare-fucking-say you’re not getting off this leash until I know I can trust you. And even though you’re not nearly well-behaved enough for me to group you in with the rest of my wives yet,” Rick’s nostrils flare, and his lips peel back from his teeth in a snarl that makes Negan’s cock throb, “that doesn’t mean I won’t have you fulfilling your duties.”
Negan can practically see the gears turning in Rick’s head as he decides whether to spit in Negan’s face and damn himself and his son to a particularly wretched fate, or to take the goddamn deal Negan’s been so fucking gracious as to lay out for him. For what might just be the first time in his sorry life, Rick makes the right decision in Negan’s eyes, exhaling sharply and giving a single nod.
“What was that?” Negan asks, all smiles and cruelty. “You’re gonna need to speak up, Rick. Who do you belong to?”
Rick swallows heavily, and Negan’s eyes are immediately drawn to the collar bobbing around his neck. If this is what the attempted revolt’s brought him, maybe it wasn’t all bad after all. “I belong to you,” Rick says, and his voice is soft but unbroken. Negan’s itching to see how long it’s going to take for that composure to crack for good.
Negan hums and lets a few inches of leash unloop from around his hand, giving Rick all the more space to choke himself. “Get down on your knees.” There’s the barest sense of hesitation from Rick, and Negan raises an eyebrow and shoots him a sleazy smirk. “Or do you think I’d have better luck with Carl? Kid looks like he'd only need a few words of encouragement—” He cuts himself off with a sharp burst of laughter as Rick immediately falls to his knees on the hard concrete floor, face the image of silent fury. Nothing can compete with that.
“You gonna give me a hand?” Rick snaps. “Or am I supposed to do this with just my mouth?”
“Eager, aren’t you?” Negan coos, fingering his belt buckle slowly open and feeding the button on his pants through the hole at an almost glacial pace. “You just can’t fucking wait to get your mouth on me. This whole little rebellion business was just a play to get in my pants, wasn’t it? No one gives you what you need back home, do they?”
The purr of his zipper lowering breaks the heavy silence in the room. It’s clear Rick’s watching his hands move with rapt attention and Negan sees him licks over his lips. Negan’s stomach swoops at the unconscious gesture and he quickly shoves his pants down his lightly-furred thighs so he can bury his fingers in Rick’s sweaty curls and pull him in close to his twitching cock. “I don’t have to tell you what happens if you use your teeth, right?”
Rick scoffs. The leash caresses his one cheek, and Negan wraps his hand around the other, thumb rubbing over the soft flesh. God, he fucking wants. The cold, furious look Rick’s giving him is almost enough to send him over the edge as it is. It didn’t have to be quite like this, but Negan’s not going to complain.
“Come on, sweetheart, open wide,” Negan murmurs, and Rick fucking does, and then he’s sinking forward into that smooth, rich, wet heat . Rick’s tongue runs along the underside of his cock, stirs the burning in his gut into an inferno, and Negan’s grip on his face stops being gentle somewhere along the way. His thumb presses hard into Rick’s perfect cheekbone, and all Negan can think about is how he hopes it’ll bruise, but then Rick swallows around his dick, and everything blurs into pleasure.
There’s tension on the leash as Rick tries to pull his mouth away, lips sliding back up toward Negan’s cockhead. Even though the friction is nearly goddamn perfect, Negan really just wants to be buried in the slick velvet of his throat, and his hands switch places, the one on Rick’s face migrating to grab a chunk of his hair and the one with the leash yanking him back down.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is rough already, but he’s too lost in the sensation of Rick’s throat spasming around him to care. “I thought you wanted to be here. You fucking had to’ve figured this is how I’d teach you your place.” Negan grinds forward into Rick’s mouth, pulling the leash back toward his hip to keep Rick right where he wants him. Rick’s nose is pressed into his pubes, and Negan can feel the tears leaking from his eyes hot and wet against his skin. It makes precome leak from his dick onto the back of Rick’s tongue.
“C’mon, Rick. Fuck knows you could be anywhere else right now if you knew how to behave. You could be out there, getting shit for me, taking care of your people, but you’re not. You’re here, choking and drooling on my cock because you couldn’t stay the fuck in line. Don’t worry, I’m gonna make absolutely fucking sure you never get the chance to make that mistake again.”
Negan loves the sound of his own voice, but the wet sounds Rick’s uncontrollably making as he takes Negan’s thick cock again and again into the squeeze of his throat are stiff fucking competition. It’s not that he’s never fucked anyone like this before, but there’s something goddamn special about it being Rick. Rick the prick, Rick the proud, Rick the fucking beautiful, with the perfect ass and the balls to fight back, and Negan’s got him on his knees sucking his cock. And Rick’s barely holding himself up—he’s leaned forward with his chest pressed against Negan’s legs; the uncompromising hand in his hair and tight leash are the only things keeping him upright. Completely at Negan’s mercy.
“You’ve got me so fucking hard, you know that?” Negan rolls his hips in short, powerful thrusts. He’s breathing heavily now, eyes lidded as he watches his cock disappear over and over past Rick’s plush, swollen lips. “Of course you fucking know, who am I kidding, you got me halfway down your fucking neck.” Negan grins, but it’s not as controlled as usual—the tension in his gut is straining toward release, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.
The bright blue of Rick’s eyes is barely visible when he looks up to glare at Negan, but it still makes Negan’s heart stutter. “Yeah, you do know how to be a good little bitch when you want to be. Worked me so good, baby, gonna blow my fucking load right in that sexy mouth. You’re gonna taste me for fucking days. And you’re not gonna complain because I’ve fucked the voice right out of you, haven’t I?”
Negan twists his hand in Rick’s hair sharply as his orgasm hits him, and Rick’s eyes screw shut in response to the pain. He pulls back, coughing, and Negan’s grasp on the leash falters just enough for Rick to get away from his cock completely, spit and come dripping down his chin and spattering onto the floor and Negan’s boots.
“You just had to go and make a goddamn mess of things,” Negan sighs. Rick’s chest is heaving, drawing in heavy pants as he glares ferociously up at him, white liquid trailing from the corner of his mouth into his beard and down his chin. He doesn’t respond, but Negan doesn’t expect him to. “Do you really think I’m gonna fucking let you get away with that sort of disrespect?” He taps the toe of his boot into the wound in Rick’s side hard enough that blood blooms under the bandage and seeps onto his shoe, adding to the crusted dirt and splashes of semen on the leather. Rick flinches. “On the ground.”
Negan settles his weight back onto both feet and watches, smug and confident, as Rick lowers himself even further, face practically against the ground as he leans on one shoulder. Negan gives him a bit more room on the leash, enough that it’s not cutting into his throat, and encourages him toward his boots with a soft pull. Rick fucking follows, squirming closer without the use of his hands, and Negan’s blood sings. “You wouldn’t be here if you had enough fucking sense to swallow.” Negan tucks his softening cock away; Rick’s face is downturned toward the task at hand.
And let it not be said that Rick isn’t fucking industrious; Negan doesn’t even have to tell him what to do before his pink tongue is darting out to lick a swipe over the toe cap of his right boot. If Negan could get hard again so soon, he fucking would in a heartbeat, but, as it is, he just enjoys the thrill of seeing Rick’s face scrunch in clear revulsion at the taste. He tilts his foot back onto the heel, pushing up into Rick’s face to make it easier for him to get at, the simple gesture silently demanding more contact.
“It’s not gonna fucking clean itself,” Negan hums. “And don’t you act like this isn’t entirely your own fault. If you didn’t think so damn highly of yourself, we wouldn’t have to be here doing this.” He’s not going to be ready to go again for a bit, but that doesn’t mean he’s not affected by Rick’s hot tongue striping over his boot. The saliva shines on the surface where he’s already passed by. Negan adjusts himself in his jeans.
“This is happening because of you . Your ego, your pride. And look at you now, just a ruined cocksucking whore polishing my boots with your tongue. But, I gotta say, Rick, it does just fucking suit you.” He isn’t lying—this is the best damn thing he’s seen in a long fucking while. “Maybe I’m gonna be able to make a goddamn upstanding citizen out of you yet.”
Rick’s moved on to the other boot by now, dragging his tongue quickly over the leather. Maybe one day Negan will make him take his time and really enjoy the process, but it’s not bad for a first attempt. He’s not so stupid as to think this little episode’s gonna be the straw that finally breaks Rick’s mind the rest of the way, but it’s a mighty fine start.
Although Rick would likely disagree with him on that. When the leather’s well on its way toward spotless, he pulls away slowly, muscles straining with the effort. Strands of spittle still connect him to Negan’s boots. Holy hell, Rick’s face would look so goddamn good covered in his come right now. Negan chuckles as he looks down at the raw fury smoldering in Rick’s expression.
“Am I done now?” Fucking shit, Rick’s voice is ruined. It’s barely a croak, and Negan has to strain to hear him right. Looks like he really did fuck it out of him.
“Yeah, that’s enough.” Negan ruffles Rick’s hair—it’s disgusting, matted with sweat and dirt. He’ll have to wash him at some point. Now isn’t that something to look forward to.
Rick watches him warily as Negan gives him a bit more leash to work with; he’s earned it with a performance like that. “Come on, get up.” Rick obeys, swallowing any protest and getting slowly to his feet, presumably accompanied by the groans of his aching joints. “I’ve got fucking places to be and business to attend to.”
“Are you gonna tie me up again?”
The smile that twists Negan’s lips is downright gleeful. “Tie you up? Nah, Rick, you’re coming with me.” Rick blanches, but Negan’s already grabbed Lucille in his free hand and swung her up onto his shoulder and started across the room. Rick has no choice but to follow. “But don’t you worry your pretty little head; no one fucks with my things.”
Rick doesn’t protest, and Negan takes that as a sign of good things to come as he opens the door and leads Rick out into the hallway. Into the Sanctuary, with its prying eyes and arrogant Saviors.
Negan smiles and throws a glance over his shoulder at Rick. “Welcome to your new home.” This feels like the start of something fucking delightful.