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The first time they discovered this game as a couple, Rick was in a mood. Not a bad mood necessarily; more like restless, maybe even borderline mischievous. He hadn’t seen his lover in over a week which, in retrospect, probably didn’t help. The worst part is, he never used to be like this. Negan has a damnable way of pulling his libido out of the quiet depths and into the forefront of his brain.
But at the time, Rick wasn’t thinking about sex. Not consciously, at the very least. He was thinking about how to approach the school about Carl being bullied from the football team due to his single eye. Judith was being watched by one of the neighbors while Rick took a reprieve to clean the house without interruption.
After hours of this, he was mentally exhausted. When he staggered into his room, Negan was there, waiting with a snarky comment and a roguish grin. Somehow, he came home without Rick noticing, probably due to his own inward fretting. But despite not seeing him for a long while, Rick waved him off and went to the shower, rather than give him his usual kiss.
Apparently, that sparked something in Negan. He jumped into the shower with Rick partway through, pinned him under the showerhead, and jerked him off until he came down the drain, before taking him to bed and fucking him into the mattress until Rick’s legs were gelatinous and he could only take wheezing breaths. He passed out before Negan could even wipe him down.
After that, when Rick was in a mood, it became a game of testing Negan’s patience until they collided in a frenzied tangle of limbs. In the aftermath of one particularly intense night, Negan had scooped him close, kissed the bite marks littered across Rick’s back and neck, and murmured, Goddamn, baby, that was better than fucking my first watermelon when I was twelve. Rick had shoved him almost off the bed, but it still sent the message: Negan liked the subtle foreplay.
So Rick allows himself to indulge in these moods more often.
Today, he comes home with Judith in tow to find Negan on their couch, scowling at a multitude of forms. Rick doesn’t need to stare to know what it’s for. After getting fired from his teaching job, Negan floundered helplessly for a short while until he struck out on a passion with Rick’s urging: starting his own food truck. For the moment, it’s just him and a nice young man named Glenn, but Negan has been able to hold things together fairly well for the past year. He’s even bragged about breaking even by the eighteen-month mark.
Either way, Rick can see the papers are in regards to business. With Negan so absorbed, Rick decides to leave him alone and take Judith upstairs. Not long after, Carl returns from school, reminding him that he needs a ride to his friend’s house for their previously-approved hangout session. Rick nods and asks Carl to watch Judith for a few, which the boy happily does.
Good kid.
With the kids taken care of, at least for the moment, Rick finds himself wandering back downstairs. He takes in the sight of Negan on the couch and swallows.
Still in relatively the same position, Rick now has a good few moments to take him in. He cuts a handsome figure, his short dark hair streaked with gray, stubble just long enough that the older man scratches it absently from time to time. Dark eyes, wicked smile (though not visible now), and solidly built. In particular, however, Rick is drawn to the silver frames sitting delicately atop his nose. Despite Negan’s grousing, ever since he finally got his eyes checked and started wearing reading glasses, Rick has found him exponentially more attractive.
Not that he’ll say so. Negan has more than enough fuel to douse him already.
Instead, Rick quietly pads past him and into the kitchen. There isn’t much to do other than put some dirty dishes in the washer. He rounds back to the living room, now facing Negan’s hunched form from behind.
And he’s… itchy. Not outside, but in his veins.
Rick glances at his watch, noting the time. Waits a couple minutes.
Perfect.
He creeps up behind Negan, startling the other man when he winds his arms over Negan’s shoulders. Negan hums softly, tilting his head to the side a little. “Shit, darlin’. When did you get home?”
“Not long ago,” murmurs Rick, his breath ghosting over Negan’s ear. His boyfriend shivers. “About thirty minutes.”
A low rumble shivers against Rick’s arms, the source Negan’s chest. He feels his own dick twitch in an almost Pavlovian response. Reminds himself to calm down.
“Kids?” asks Negan, deceptively conversational. He isn’t fooling Rick. The other man’s shoulders are tense under Rick’s arms, his entire body apparently ready to spring into action. Much as Rick wants to climb into his lap and start palming him, he tries to play the long con a bit more.
With a soft, wanting noise, Rick nuzzles at Negan’s ear, shivering at the way his lover’s breath hitches. “Upstairs,” he admits, breath purposefully warm and wafting over the shell of Negan’s ear. The way Negan barely stifles a groan and tilts his head further to allow Rick more access is almost enough for him to throw the game away entirely. Slowly, Rick mouths along Negan’s neck, tongue flicking out over skin he damn well knows is sensitive.
“Jesus, Rick,” breathes Negan. “Someone’s fucking thirsty today.”
“Yeah?” Rick suckles on a small spot just behind Negan’s ear. “Guess I am… guess I should handle it.”
“Yeah, you fucking should.”
As though on cue, a door upstairs slams. Carl’s voice filters down. “Dad! I’m ready!”
Taking advantage of Negan’s momentary confusion, Rick bites his neck, then his earlobe. He leaps back when Negan starts cursing up a storm—impressive even for him, really—and smirks when Negan twists to stare at him in perplexed anger.
“I’ll just grab a drink after I drop Carl off,” says Rick, unable to keep the smugness out of his voice. “Look after Judith, would ya?”
He hurries to the garage just as Carl bounds down the stairs. With no other option, he can all but imagine Negan seething on the couch, half or even fully hard and frustrated while Rick opens the garage door and backs out with his son in tow.
By the time Rick returns home, Judith is awake and apparently wailing over a tooth poking through. Negan looks exhausted. Taking pity on him, Rick gently lifts a sobbing Judith from the other man’s arms and urges him to catch some sleep while he deals with it.
That doesn’t mean Negan forgets his transgression.
In fact, it shows in spectacular form when Rick comes back to the kitchen the next night after tucking Judith into bed. Carl is in his room with his earbuds, as teenagers do, so Rick feels that he has some freedom to have a little fun.
If Negan’s posture indicates anything, it’s that he’s not in a good mood. His shoulders hunch while he violently scrubs at a nonstick pan Rick burned while making dinner. Bad as Rick feels about it, he has to admit there’s something quietly satisfying about how the muscles under Negan’s shirt ripple as he works.
To no one’s surprise, not even his own, Rick finds the image arousing. Heat pools gently in his lower belly.
He sidles up behind his boyfriend, slipping his arms around his torso. Though Negan tenses, he doesn’t push him away; in fact, starts to relax into Rick’s arms the longer the hug stays just a hug.
Thankfully, Negan is the one to break the ice. “This do it for you, baby? Me doing the dishes, fixing your war crimes?”
Rick huffs a soft laugh into his back. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
“The hell it is. Jesus on a fucking peanut butter cracker, Rick, it’s a nonstick pan, not a goddamn cast iron.”
With a faint smile, Rick kisses his shoulder and softens his voice to the sweet, honeyed drawl he knows about sends Negan to his knees. “Sorry, honey,” he murmurs. “I’ll do better.”
Rick swears he can hear the blood rushing to Negan’s cock. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” says Rick. He noses against Negan’s nape, dropping a kiss there. “I can make it up to you.”
“I’d sure as fuck like to see that.”
Fiery electricity lights Rick’s spine. He can sense Negan’s scrubbing at the soiled pan growing more intense; not out of annoyance, but rather, a tension that threatens to burst. Once again, he’s tempted to just see what happens if he doesn’t act.
Instead, he drops one hand to grope at the bulge of Negan’s jeans. The way his lover jerks and hisses is more than enough. Rick moans softly against his shoulder blade, kissing, subtly drawing his left arm away after stroking down Negan’s side and over his hip a few times. His free hand slides along Negan’s side, then away, back toward Rick’s own jeans pocket.
“Ohh, Rick,” breathes Negan, his tone dropping to something sinful. “Don’t grab the cook’s dick in the kitchen if you’re scared of the heat.”
Rick shivers against him, grinding his own semi-hard-on against the back of Negan’s thigh. “Who says I’m scared?” He follows the tease with a rough rub against the bulge under his palm. The way Negan’s breath hitches, then trembles out, threatens Rick to full hardness. “Maybe I’m just excited, baby.”
When he is the one to break out the pet names, Negan is like putty set afire. The other man jolts under Rick’s heavy palm, his voice a low, throaty rumble that nearly whisks the wind from Rick’s sails. He manages to fumble a hasty text with Negan none the wiser.
“Jesus,” rasps Negan. The water shuts off. Warm, damp fingers grasp the wrist of the hand clutching Negan’s solid pec. “Oh, baby, keep that up, and I’ll—”
WE’RE ON EASY STREET~ AND IT FEELS SO SWEET~
Negan’s ringtone startles both of them. Well, Negan more than Rick. Rick palms his own phone into his pocket and tries to stifle his laughter.
CAUSE THE WORLD IS BUT A TREAT RIGHT HERE ON EASY STREET~
If the mood wasn’t killed before, it definitely is now. Rick rapidly pulls away, slipping out of the kitchen as Negan fumbles his cell phone out of his back pocket. Rick takes a moment to savor the one-sided conversation that follows.
“God damn it, Glenn, your dick better be on fire or... What? Why the fuck would I… No, that’s… RICK!!”
Chortling, Rick bolts out of the house, shouting back, “Better talk to Glenn, baby!” before he tears down the neighborhood street, barely able to breathe from the laughter.
Sometimes, riling Negan up is far too easy.
***
As cross as Negan clearly is with him, he has the decency to rein it in around the kids, and that’s one of the reasons Rick loves him so much. When the weekend rolls around, both have been far too busy or on opposite schedules to either fool around or for Rick to continue the little game.
It’s also given him time to contemplate and maybe feel a little bad about it.
Friday evening, Rick finds Negan in their room, moodily scrolling his phone. Carl’s doing homework, and Judith just went down for a nap ten minutes ago. Closing the door behind him, Rick tentatively sits on the edge of the bed. “Hey, honey.”
Negan grunts. “Not now. I’m trying to confirm this fuck-a-truckpalooza or whatever the hell it’s called.” At Rick’s bemused look, he sighs. “Some kinda bullshit for food trucks in the area. Gonna be gone tomorrow night and most of Sunday.”
“Well, that’s a damn shame,” says Rick softly, frowning a little. “Carl and Judith are gonna be at their memaw’s.”
“Tell me about it. But I gotta go. Stake out the competition and shit.”
Rick hums in acknowledgement, placing his hand on Negan’s thigh. Though his lover twitches, he otherwise doesn’t respond. So Rick rubs his hand up the other man’s leg, then down to his knee; slow, steady strokes. “The kids are busy. Wanna let off a little steam?”
Unsurprisingly, Negan is already getting hard. But he’s visibly wary. “What’s gonna interrupt this time? Some shit-faced zombie gonna break in and bite my dick off?”
Chuckling, Rick shifts so he’s straddling Negan’s legs. That gets the man’s attention enough for him to set the phone down, moreso when Rick starts fiddling with his belt. “I’d never let them have your prized possession, Negan.”
“Yeah?” Negan reaches out, tucking a stray curl back from Rick’s forehead. Pleased, Rick wiggles down, unzipping Negan’s pants. Even with his underwear, his cock seems to pop free, straining against cotton. The sight alone embarrassingly makes Rick’s mouth water. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the clothed tip, relishing the deep sigh Negan lets out. “Fuck, baby. Yeah, make it up to me. Gimme that gorgeous mouth.”
Despite himself, a powerful shiver threatens to make Rick squirm. He covers some of the heavy length with his lips closed around it, breathing warm air. To Negan’s credit, he keeps his usual groan to a deep sigh. His dick pulses under Rick’s lips, and Rick can’t help pressing his tongue there, wetting the material. He jerks Negan’s pants down eagerly, stopping halfway over his thighs before he resumes making out with his lover’s clothed cock.
“Fuuuck, baby.” Negan shifts to spread his legs, but he doesn’t get far with where his jeans sit, and Rick is eagerly pinning him with his torso. Once Rick is pleased with how wet the other man is, thanks to his spit, he peels the last of the cloth down as well. Negan’s cock springs out, thick and delicious. Rick nuzzles at the other man’s balls, the base of his cock, before licking a long, slow, wide stripe up. Pre-cum tingles salty on his tongue.
For his part, Negan is breathing deep but in shorter bursts. His dark eyes stare at Rick, flooded with unabashed lust. “Gonna give me your mouth, darlin’?”
“Temptin’,” murmurs Rick. He teases the slit with the tip of his tongue, pride swelling in his chest when Negan utters an uncharacteristic wheeze. “Think I can make you come before the groceries get here?”
Negan stifles a moan, hands twitching near Rick’s head. “Before the—?”
“Daaaaad! HomeHaste is here!” Carl’s holler echoes up the stairway.
Rick takes advantage of Negan’s confusion to scramble off the bed. His boyfriend curses, grasping at him, but he only manages to snag Rick’s sleeve. Rick easily shrugs free, trying not to smirk. “Sorry, honey. Alcohol’s in that, gotta show my ID to the delivery guy.”
A slew of curses follow him. Before he can slip out, however, he hears Negan say, “You can’t run away forever, Georgia.”
Shivering from the delicious threat, Rick closes the door and scurries down the stairs.
***
Negan’s gone before the kids are. Midway through breakfast, he glances at his phone, mutters something under his breath, and stands. “Sorry, honey, gotta head out early.”
Judith’s face crumples, her mouth a mess of syrup, eggs, and waffle bits. “Papa go?”
Once he sets his dishes in the sink, Negan makes a beeline for her, cradling her curly head and kissing her temple. “Sorry, princess. Papa’s got work. I’ll be here when you’re back from memaw’s, promise.”
Judith sniffles, but begins to giggle when Negan blows a raspberry on her neck. Her mood immediately brightens the way only a toddler’s can be, she pats Negan’s face and gives him a sticky kiss on the cheek.
Though Rick has been messing with him, he already feels the pang of the loss. He intercepts Negan in the foyer, cradling the other man’s jaw with his hand. “Sure you gotta go?”
Chuckling, Negan draws him in for a slow, syrupy kiss. By the time Rick is left breathless, he rests his forehead against his, typical cocky smirk in place. “Don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll be leaving you dirty messages every chance I get.”
Rick shakes his head, unable to suppress a smile, and earns another kiss on Negan’s way out.
A couple hours later, Carl and Judith are gone as well. The house is empty.
Rick is a little melancholic about it.
He putters about. With an entire weekend off—a rarity in his field—he is at a loss for what to do. He’d fully expected Negan to be home, to work off some of the tension they’d built, but the Truckpalooza got in the way of that. Tempting as it is to get himself off, Rick knows the wait will be well worth it… even if it is several more days out.
Instead, he occupies himself with cleaning. Running errands, grabbing items they’ve been low on but haven’t needed right away. Even after all that, he feels restlessly unfulfilled. He watches a movie on Netflix, barely able to pay attention. Some silly thing about the undead and shitty choices that made his eyes roll into the back of his head.
Still, it must have been entertaining enough, because when night falls, Rick is actually a bit tired. He’s also more than a little disgruntled, having received little more than one text from Negan proclaiming, Daddy’s home. Rick rolled his eyes, shot back something along the lines of, Sleep well, old man, and got little more than a smirking emoji in response.
Rick shambles to his room, turning stray lights off along the way. The master bedroom is cloaked in shadows, though the adjoined bathroom retains a small glow of nightlight for the rare mornings Judith is crying and needs guidance to a safe place. He swiftly strips down to his boxer-briefs, trading jeans for loose, old sweatpants and heading to the bathroom. Gently, Rick nudges the foldable children’s stool aside and begins brushing his teeth.
He’s lulled into a sincere sense of security by the nightly routine. Once he brushes thoroughly, Rick rinses his mouth with alcoholic, minty wash and spits it down the drain. He tilts his head for a few gulps of water, straightens up…
… and sees the clear reflection of Negan in the doorway.
In a bid of desperation, Rick attempts to duck under and past Negan’s arm. It is, of course, futile, as Negan easily grabs hold of him. The two wordlessly struggle. Rick manages to wriggle free and make it into the bedroom, but Negan is on him within the space of a breath.
And sure as hell, Rick doesn’t go down easy. No blows are traded, but Rick is squirmy enough to nearly get free multiple times. Ultimately, it’s an ill-timed attempt to trip his lover that allows Negan to gain the upper hand. He slips his arm around Rick in a chokehold, heaving both their bodies onto the bed. The arm vanishes before the grip can cause any real damage, but now Rick is pinned underneath Negan’s solid weight. He gasps. Tries to worm free again, but this time Negan is able to twine his feet under Rick’s ankles and, well, basically humps him hard enough to shove Rick further onto the mattress. The friction of his cock trapped between the bed and his belly wrangles another gasp out of Rick; almost as addictive as the firmness grinding into his backside.
Negan breathes heavy against his ear, compressing Rick further into the mattress as he grapples Rick’s arms behind his back. “Damn, baby. You really thought you’d win, didn’t you?” The low, sinful chuckle he lets out elicits shivers from deep in Rick’s core. “Unfortunately for you, you’ve really pushed me hard this time. I’m gonna have to teach you some goddamn manners.”
“Negan…” Rick’s voice comes out strangled, pitching in a whine as the other man responds with a rough grind. His erection presses cleanly between Rick’s cheeks through the materials, against the tender, wanting hole. “Fuck…”
“Oh, you’re fucked all right, darlin’. Don’t you worry about that.” Before Rick can fully process the words, Negan’s weight vanishes. Within a split second, he’s flipped onto his back.
Still recapturing his breath from the struggle, he is pinned by the dark, wanting, dangerous look glimmering in Negan’s gaze. His lover doesn’t even hesitate before yanking Rick’s sweatpants and underwear down and off in one go, leaving him laid bare on the mussed sheets.
“Hard already?” mocks Negan. It’s almost sweet, however, considering the man has a noticeable bulge in his own jeans. “Well, why didn’t you say anything? Let daddy get that for you.”
He grips Rick’s hips in a bruising hold, swallowing him down slick, hot, and smooth. The air feels punched from Rick’s chest, his heart going from 50 to 100 in the space of a blink. He sucks in a tremulous breath, choking on his cry out as Negan begins to ruthlessly suck and bob over him with filthy wet noises. Pleasure ratchets so high, so fast, that it’s almost painful. Rick scrabbles for hold on something, anything, but Negan grasps his wrists and shoves them down to the bed, growling a warning that does absolutely nothing to keep his dick from aching.
Negan pops off loudly, licking his spit-damp lips. “Something about fighting me seems to make you taste better, Rick. Can’t imagine what it is.” His hand wraps firmly around Rick’s length, almost painful, and Rick judders under the quick, harsh pull that tightens just under the head. Then Negan returns his fist to the base, this time keeping the pull up slow and purposeful. Rick stuffs a balled hand to his mouth, biting down on the knuckles to stifle his moan while Negan works him relentlessly, until he’s leaking steadily and profusely.
All the while, Negan barely even looks at his dick, his hungry, borderline mean gaze drinking in the sight of Rick taut, flushed, and keening before him. He’s distracted enough that Rick attempts to grab… fuck, he isn’t even sure. His wrist, to halt the pleasure-pain of Negan milking pre-cum from him? His hair, to direct his mouth back down? His head, to urge his mouth back to Rick’s?
Doesn’t matter, because Negan smacks that hand away again. He warns, “Keep ‘em to yourself, Georgia, or I’ll keep ‘em for you.”
“Goddamn it Negaaan!” Rick’s voice pitches to a small wail when one of Negan’s broad, warm hands cups his balls. Between the torturous grip on his cock and the gentle cradle, Rick is flooded with a delirious wonder of what could happen if Negan got rougher.
He does, but not in the way Rick expects. Negan gives his balls a gentle pull, his dick an almost fond squeeze, before mouthing down Rick’s inner thigh and finding a spot to bite and suck.
Rick tries not to thrash, though the bruising mixture of pain and pleasure are bordering on how rough they’ve gotten in the past. A distant part of him acknowledges that he isn’t scared—not really. It’s exciting in a way where he doesn’t know what he’s in for, or how far his lover will take him, but he trusts Negan to stop if Rick is serious about it.
Skirting the line is something they’re both very good at.
Negan works his way to the sensitive tendon between Rick’s leg and groin, pressing his tongue meanly there. Rick shudders violently, trying to curl into himself, and Negan shoves his thighs down and apart again, continuing his subtle but pointed torture. He litters more bites and bruises along Rick’s inner thigh, just the one, and it’s maddening.
Just when Rick thinks he can’t take anymore teasing, the wet flat of Negan’s tongue swipes slow and teasing over the underside of his balls. Rick keens, twisting the sheets in his fists when Negan gently sucks one into his mouth. It takes every ounce of restraint Rick possesses not to kick out in sheer desperation at that point, and he swears the rumble against him is Negan’s laughter.
When Negan laps at his hole, once, Rick’s back nearly snaps in his attempt to get more. He’s shoved back down with an aggravating snicker, Negan’s face looming over his, eyes dark and glimmering.
“Ah, ah, ah,” says the other man. “You haven’t earned that yet, darlin’. And you’re not coming until I say so, and I am damn good and ready for you to.” When Rick huffs and squirms in defiance, Negan pinches his nipple, eliciting a yelp. “Be a good boy. This is your rehabilitation, baby.”
Before Rick can spit out more than, Dick, Negan’s pinching both nipples between his fingers. It’s harsh at first, then softens, rubbing them soothingly for a few moments, then pinching one. Rubbing, caressing, pinching the other. Rick feels like he’s becoming certifiably insane, especially when Negan uses his knees to pin his twitching thighs in place. Thank god the kids aren’t home, because Rick cannot hold back his cries and wails. His dick throbs, untouched since Negan’s mouth, straining for friction and getting none.
“Poor, pretty Georgia,” mocks Negan, giving an especially harsh pinch to Rick’s left nipple. He laughs when Rick’s spine nearly clears the mattress. “Is it awful not getting what you want? Can’t fucking imagine.”
“Negan,” cries Rick, bucking uselessly. “P-please!”
“Begging’s a good damn start, honey. But not anywhere near enough.” Blessedly, Negan removes one hand from the game of torture. With practiced ease, he loosens his belt and unbuttons his jeans one-handed, sliding the zipper down. Even that soft sound feels like a punch to Rick’s gut. When Negan pulls out his heavy length, the head sticky with pre-cum, Rick is almost ashamed how his mouth waters at the sight.
Negan smirks, giving his cock a good, long stroke. “This what you want, baby? Fuck, look at you, already drooling for it. Yeah, this is what you want. I know that.” He eases off Rick’s thighs, scooting up to straddle his chest. When Rick attempts to raise his head for a taste, Negan tuts and sinks a hand into his hair, holding fast. Still gripping his cock, he strokes himself again, slow. Pre-cum beads at the slit, the drop growing heavy. Rick whines, and Negan smirks. “Oh, all right. One taste. Open up, baby.”
Rick’s mouth parts eagerly. He waits for Negan to release him so he can get his mouth on him, but the fingers hold him steady. Another rolling stroke, and the bead of pre-cum begins to ooze down.
Oh, fuck. Rick sticks his tongue out, whimpering, realizing what Negan means. Eventually, he gets that small taste of musk and salt, just a drop, before Negan cruelly climbs off of him and takes his flushed cock away. Rick could fucking sob if he wasn’t so wanting and frustrated.
Blessedly, Negan flips him onto his stomach. Rick’s able to attain that much-needed friction, humping the sheets like a teenager, only to whine when Negan yanks his hips up, denying him again.
Laughing, Negan says, “Jesus, baby. Never seen you do that before. Gotta admit, it’s pretty fucking hot. But I didn’t say you could come yet, did I?”
Before Rick can respond, a harsh crack! rings through the air, accompanied by a prickling, hot sting. Rick gasps, choking on his own spit when Negan spanks him again, same cheek, same spot. Then another on the opposite side, before broad hands grip and knead the flesh. Negan is practically purring.
“Goddamn, you have the best fuckin’ ass. I could eat you alive.”
Still somewhat recovering from the impromptu spanking, Rick finally realizes that Negan isn’t pinning him down anymore. He lurches forward, scrambling for the edge of the bed. Just because Negan got one over on him earlier doesn’t mean he’s just going to lie down and take it.
Unfortunately, Negan is fast and has longer reach. He grabs Rick’s right ankle, dragging him back. When Rick tries to twist onto his back to better fight back, Negan grasps his other ankle and yanks. Rick flattens to the mattress with a yelp, hissing when his dick catches along the sheets and gives him that beautiful friction again… ruined, again, when Negan jerks his hips back up and pins Rick’s calves with his knees. As Rick attempts to push himself up onto his arms, Negan heaves over him, his warm cock nestling beautifully in the cleft of Rick’s ass. His paints are still up, the zipper teeth biting against his skin. It distracts him just long enough for Negan to hiss, Jesus fuck, right before he takes hold of each of Rick’s wrists. The other man wrestles Rick’s arms behind his back, forcing him down to his chest, head turned to the side to gasp for air. A slithering sound of leather on jeans, and then Negan is binding his wrists. His belt, realizes Rick with a throb of arousal, he’s using his belt.
“There.” Negan’s weight lifts from his calves. The mattress dips. Rick tests the new binding, whimpering when he finds it tight. “That’s fuckin’ better. Goddamn, you sexy bitch, you still trying to escape? That’s hot as shit. But I need you here, Georgia, right here to take your medicine.”
Rick tenses, fully expecting another spanking.
When two thumbs press near his hole, callused hands spreading his cheeks, heat flares through him. Rick stammers over Negan’s name, the syllables melting into a low, vinous whine when Negan slurps from his damp balls to his hole. Then again, and again, before the man just shoves his face in and goes to town.
The rough scratch of beard against such a sensitive area has Rick all but convulsing and wailing. His feet scrabble uselessly against the sheets, only succeeding in bunching them up around his toes and against Negan’s knees. Negan puts his wicked tongue to astounding use, slurping so obscenely that Rick feels like his entire body is flushed and aflame. Negan’s excited grunts and growls send shocks of need through his cock. If Rick wasn’t dripping before, he absolutely is now. He can feel the drool of pre-cum shuddering between his dick and the bedding.
Even worse because Negan refuses to touch him. Rick feels like he’s losing his mind, gasping and moaning in shuddering sobs as Negan works his tongue inside bit by bit. It’s incredible and nowhere near enough.
“N-Negan, please, I… Negan, Negan, fuck, Negan please!” He’s babbling and drooling onto the sheets, legs trembling. Rick tries to hitch his ass back in a plea for more, but Negan holds him firmly still, nails raking against the curve of his backside.
Rick cries out pathetically when Negan draws back, noisily smacking his lips. “Damn, baby, haven’t treated you to this in a long while, have I?” He drapes himself over Rick, heavy cock pressed against his dripping balls. Rick stifles a sob, blinking tears free as Negan nips his cheek, wrapping his arms around him. “Mm, certainly treated myself, that’s for damn sure.”
Breathlessly, Rick begs, “Negan, please, I need—”
Negan smacks the side of his ass with a flat, open palm, the sound echoing briefly. “Shut up, honey. I didn’t say anything about what you need.”
The words send a desperate throb through Rick’s cock. He shudders, tensing his thighs, fuck, did he actually almost come from that?
He doesn’t realize he’s whimpering until Negan groans softly near his ear. “Shit. Did you almost come? Are you that close, baby?”
“No,” bites Rick. It’s weak, though, and Negan just chuckles.
“You gonna lie to me at this point, too? That’s a fucking disappointment, Georgia.” Rick squirms under him, receiving another smack on his stinging ass. “All right, darlin’, lemme see that pretty cock.”
Not like he has a choice. Rick is rolled to his side, which at least gives him the chance to stretch his legs after kneeling for a while. A low, appreciative whistle falls from Negan’s lips. Rick blinks, then jerks when Negan helps him spread his legs, exposing him more. Tugging on the bindings doesn’t do him any good, albeit the small favor of Negan absently pushing a pillow along his back so Rick can be more supine semi-comfortably.
“Fuck, have you looked at yourself?”
Rick looks down on instinct. If he wasn’t already trembling and red head to toe, he’d probably blush.
Negan has him half lying on his back, one leg bent slightly on the mattress, the other raised so his foot is flat, leaving him spread and vulnerable. His cock twitches, so sloppy with pre-cum that if Rick hadn’t experienced everything for himself, he’d think it was some sort of trickery or illusion. The pre-cum dribbles down his erect cock, the head sensitive and colored nearly purple. Wetness from himself and Negan’s attentions smear across his upper thighs. One is mottled with bite and suck bruises, leftovers of Negan’s rough affections. His nipples are hard, still puffy from the earlier pinching. He can only imagine the state of his hole at this point, and that’s enough to get a semi-mortified squeak out of him.
And Negan is taking it all in like a man starved. His broad hands keep hold of Rick’s knees when the other starts closing them from embarrassment. He’s still fully clothed, to Rick’s chagrin, but for his cock, and the sight of him dripping as well (even if less than Rick) about makes him try to lunge for it and get it in his mouth.
Negan moves first, however. He reaches down as though going for Rick’s cock, then lightly rests his fingers against his breastbone instead. A delightful shiver courses through Rick, only worsening the ache between his legs. Slowly, Negan traces his fingers over his pec, circling a nipple, then detouring down toward the center of his ribcage. Down over his stomach, gently through the coarse hair flourishing beneath his navel. Rick writhes, praying for Negan to touch him already, but, of course, Negan diverts back to his side and along his hip. The fingers find a path through spit and pre-cum over the crease between Rick’s thigh and groin.
Frustrated and feeling like he’s crackling, Rick thumps his head back. “Negan.”
“Shh, shh, shh,” coos his lover, dark eyes following his own fingers as he delicately ghosts over Rick’s full, heavy balls. Rick keens, kicking in frustration, but it doesn’t stop Negan from continuing his delicate warpath. “I haven’t even done half the things I plan on doing to you tonight.”
A shudder ripples through Rick’s chest. His dick twitches violently.
Negan catches his gaze, his smile wolfish. Grazing the tip of his finger along Rick’s entrance, he murmurs, “Be a good boy and wait here, and I’ll give you something you want.”
Rick bites his lip hard, shaking in an effort to do as he’s told… even if his instinct is to rebel. Given his current position, it won’t go far nor end well.
Plus… he wants to see what, exactly, Negan has in store for him.
Fortunately, it doesn’t take Negan long to return. Rick tries to get a glimpse of what Negan brought, but the other man folds over him, all but devouring his mouth. The deep, warm thrust of his tongue distracts Rick long enough to temporarily forget what’s happening outside of his screamingly aching dick, his balls so tight he feels like they’ll implode into his body to hide forever.
Rick hears a familiar plastic pop. It still doesn’t prepare him for the slippery fingers sliding over his entrance. He yelps, shrinking away on instinct. Futile when Negan grips his hip to still him and slides a finger in. It’s both expected and not, so that Rick’s eyes roll back and a filthy, embarrassing moan slithers from his throat.
“Negan…”
His lover utters an uncharacteristically pained groan, even as his gaze fixates on the finger slowly sliding in and out. “Fuck, baby. Fuck, yeah, say my name again, just like that, just like my perfect boy.”
My. Not a, but my. It’s a sign of breaching Negan’s outward arrogance. Rick keens, trying to roll his hips down despite knowing Negan will stop him from getting all that he wants. “N-Negan, oh, god…”
Negan shoves a second finger in. Rick’s so ready that it doesn’t even hurt. He tries to buck back, but without the use of his arms, Negan easily pins him with his free hand, tongue caught between his teeth as he begins to curl and stretch his fingers. While shaking under the assault, overwhelmed by the sensation of being teased at the fullness he wants, Negan finally digs his fingers into Rick’s prostate and elicits a loud, frankly obscene wail.
“Holy goddamn fuck,” says Negan, tone half-mocking even as he sounds almost breathless. His fingers increase speed and pressure until Rick is squirming and all but thrashing, moaning so loud that Negan has to raise his voice to be heard. “You are greedy. That tight little ass is just sucking my fingers right in. I barely have to fucking move.” He pointedly grinds his fingers against the tender spot, rubbing in circles until Rick is a shaking, crying mess, his cock painfully hard at this point. “Jesus, you gonna break my damn fingers, Rick? If I fuck you, are you gonna suck my dick right in, too? Bet you will, huh? Maybe I should fuck you with a dildo first. Or you wanna fuck yourself on it? Bounce on a rubber cock while I shove my dick in your mouth?”
Rick’s nerves are sparking. Every drag against his sensitive walls springs renewed tears to his eyes. All he can do is babble Negan’s name, and even that is barely intelligible.
Negan licks his lips, leaning over him, curling and rubbing his fingers. “You gonna come, honey?”
He can’t—
Rick shrieks his throat raw as his orgasm slams into him like a truck. Muscles taut, spasming, his cock gushing while Negan milks him from inside for all he’s worth. Wave after wave washes over him. It’s almost agonizing even as it’s incredible. Tears blur his vision until his eyes clench shut, muscles clamping and rippling around Negan’s fingers inside him. Vaguely, he hears Negan let loose a string of curses, and still his lover doesn’t let up.
Finally, when Rick’s cock has nothing left to give, Negan takes mercy on him. Pulling his fingers out, gentle in comparison to his treatment until then. Despite being exhausted and feeling like he ran a marathon and got shot with bulletproof armor on, Rick utters a wrecked, broken sob at the loss.
Slowly, so very slowly, his senses return to him. His chest heaves, his shoulders and arms ache, and his spent cock feels like the slightest touch will make him pass out. Sweat cools on his skin. His lungs feel raw.
Blinking the last tears from his eyes, Rick catches sight of Negan hovering over him with a look that makes him whimper.
Negan is thirsty. His eyes gleam as they rake over him, up and down and up again, his chest heaving like he’s just returned from a jog himself. Purely by watching Rick. His cock stands proudly between his legs, full, his balls swollen underneath.
He’s nowhere near done.
To Rick’s relief, the first thing Negan does is adjust him so he can unbind his wrists. Rick barely has a moment to flex them before his lover crawls over him, smothering his mouth with a deep, one-sided kiss that he still welcomes with breathless want. When he breaks away to breathe, Negan continues his onslaught along Rick’s throat, biting and licking down to his collarbones as he spews filth.
“You sexy, traitorous lil bitch. I didn’t say you could come yet.” He bites around Rick’s nipple, earning a strangled moan. “But you did, fuck yes, you did. What a goddamn mess. Wailing like a slutty little police siren, fuck. I should’ve recorded you, sent it to the department for use. Then everyone gets to know how well I dick you down, baby.” Negan sucks hard on the nipple, pinching the other between his fingers while Rick gasps and whines, still weak from his orgasm.
“You know what happens when you come without my permission, don’t you?”
Every muscle tenses. Surprisingly, Negan doesn’t immediately act on his subtle threat, instead straddling Rick’s legs. Negan strips himself free of his shirt, wetting his lips with a wicked grin.
When he grabs Rick’s pecs, it startles him. Negan is borderline brutal, squeezing the silky fat layered over muscle, making a small cleavage that has Rick blushing. Huffing a laugh, Negan pinches Rick’s nipples again, rolling and tugging on them until Rick’s squirming and crying out.
“Ohh, yes, just like this, darlin’.” Leaning down, Negan replaces his fingers with his mouth, sucking and biting until Rick tries to shakily push him off. He shoves Rick’s hands away with a scolding, Don’t make me tie them up again, and goes right back to it.
To Rick’s stunned disbelief, his cock is already twitching, trying to rise back up. Negan groans when he notices. A sharp slap to Rick’s tit is his warning to stay there. While Rick steals the reprieve to catch his breath, Negan climbs off the bed and rapidly strips the rest of his clothes away before rejoining him.
“Now, where were we,” he growls. Without waiting for an answer, he straddles Rick again, this time seating himself just below Rick’s pelvis. His hands return to his chest as though magnetized, squeezing and kneading and pinching. The world wavers as Rick feels borderline delirious through the heightened sensitivity, and he moans pathetically when Negan’s hot, damp cock rubs against his own sensitive one.
“Negan,” he hiccups between tearless sobs. Every touch, every brush of skin on skin, feels so good that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. All Rick can do is slap helplessly at the sheets, fisting them while he writhes underneath his relentless lover. “Oh, please, oh, please!”
Negan groans above him, grinding down sudden and rough. “Fuck. Love it when you beg like this, Jesus Christ, Rick.”
Rick thrusts back against him, the friction of their dicks sending him into a frenzy. “N-Negan, please, inside me, please!”
A violent shudder ripples through Negan. For a wild moment, Rick thinks he’s going to give him what he wants… only for Negan to grunt and raise himself up a little, denying him that little bit of friction. Rick thumps his head against the mattress with a frustrated whine. When Negan peers down at him again, the lust has toned down, a sure sign his mental faculties aren’t yet worn down to that point.
“Ohh, cowboy,” he murmurs, “you haven’t earned that yet, either.”
Then he sets to tormenting Rick’s nipples with ruthless abandon. Every tug and roll feels directly connected to his dick, flushing him to full hardness in a matter of minutes. The tender flesh begins to sting, but Negan doesn’t stop, and Rick doesn’t ask him to, taking the pleasurable assault with wheezing moans. In contrast to the pleasure-pain, Negan shuffles down his legs, fingers keeping busy while he begins to lick the sticky cum from Rick’s chest and stomach.
It’s so much, pain and sweetness and wet and hot. Rick writhes under Negan’s tongue as though he’s being stretched open again, heaving breaths and pitched cries littering the air. A warbling shriek escaped when Negan lapped at his dick, so sensitive now that every drag of his tongue brings a fresh prickle of tears. He’s given no reprieve even when his balls are cleaned. The fingers making his nipples damn near numb finally cease, nails raking lightly down his sides until thick thumbs press his legs wide open. Rick shudders and gasps, lower half twitching under the man’s lewd study.
“Rick,” he says, sounding pleased as punch, “I think you’re ready to be filled up.”
Rick moans at the mere threat, hazily hoping it means Negan is ready to bully his cock in and fuck him proper.
He gets attention, but it’s definitely not Negan’s cock. Rick chokes and protests as Negan pins his hip down, quickly followed by sliding three fingers inside of him. He’s fuller than before, but far from full. Despair wracks him when Negan leans down, suckling on his glans, and Rick is suddenly being fucked with three thick fingers and encompassed wholly in the heat of Negan’s mouth.
The other man’s tongue is merciless. Long, slow laves; harsh, rapid licks; gentle, wet sucking followed by fierce inhales. In any other situation, Rick would grab Negan’s hair, but this is different. Rather, he flings his hands back to grip the pillow above his head, twisting the material. A fierce wail shakes him on a particularly hard suck.
None of it deters Negan. He swallows him down, the back of his mouth working Rick so much that he’s left squeaking and shaking embarrassingly. When Negan pops off with a vulgar slurp, it takes all Rick has not to grab his head and shove him back down.
“C’mon, baby, am I that awful at it?” Rick whines at the taunting; he’s well and truly hard, but Negan isn’t one to settle for Rick’s best—he’ll push and push and push. Proven when he teases the dribbling slit and Rick muffles his wail with the pillow. “Jesus, all right. Challenge accepted.”
He descends back down. Rick screams into the pillow, clutching it tight as Negan swallows around him and fucks him with his fingers. No pause, no hesitation, no breaks. Just pure, heightened, electric pleasure that has Rick’s voice hoarse from crying out. Negan growls around him, making him convulse. Blunt pain erupts when the man digs his fingers into Rick’s bruised thigh. The muscle twitches under Negan’s vicious hold. Rick can no longer use that trick to hold back.
Then his cock hits the tender, gripping back of Negan’s throat, and Rick catapults over the edge.
He shakes and sobs through his second orgasm. Everything feels so goddamn sensitive; every hair standing on end as brutal pleasure rocks him to his core. Rick can do nothing but ride it out. Electricity sizzles along his nerves, fire burgeoning and erupting from deep in his belly so that he’s still somehow coming. And Negan drinks down every drop, cradling and massaging Rick’s balls to get that much more from him, even as his fingers continue to fuck him through it.
Rick collapses, utterly boneless. He tries to suck in life-saving air, every inhale a struggle. Despite every potential erogenous spot possible aching, he barely feels Negan licking off his dick, or the fingers withdrawing. Hell, Rick isn’t even sure if he is seeing properly. The world is comprised of aches and soreness and stings and absolute, utter satiation. He’s never been tormented like this in his life. Honestly, he doesn’t think his body has anything left to give.
But there’s one problem, one made very clear to him when Negan manhandles him to his front the moment Rick’s chest isn’t heaving rapidly.
Negan hasn’t come yet.
Cold douses his backside. Rick lets out a decidedly undignified yelp, scrambling forward. Mean laughter behind him tingles up his spine before Negan grips his hips and yanks him back again. Ass up, knees spread, a broad hand between his shoulder blades and pushing down.
“Deep breaths, honey.”
The insistent pressure at his entrance makes Rick go cross-eyed. He pants, unable to utter anything more than choked, garbled nonsense as Negan pushes his lubed-up dick inside. Rick stuffs his fist as much as he can into his mouth, biting down to ground himself as Negan grunts and slowly fucks his way in. Even after the stretching, Negan is difficult to take. Rick breaths harshly through it, spit drenching his knuckles.
When Negan’s hips meet his ass, it’s with a forceful thrust that wrenches a wilting moan from Rick’s throat. The man doesn’t even give him a chance to settle before slapping his ass. Hard.
“Ne—gan,” chokes Rick between smacks. The spankings don’t slow or cease, not even when Negan starts to draw out, only to fuck in again so hard that Rick slides up the sheets. He can feel the taut jiggle of his ass as Negan delivers the stinging blows, mingled with desperate pleasure when, occasionally, Negan drives into his prostate.
Rick can’t conceive anything else outside of his body. Everything narrows down to the marks left on him, his stinging nipples dragging against the sheets, the cock drilling into him, broad hands finally ceasing their strikes only to grab both asscheeks and squeeze. Tears dangle on Rick’s lashes, shuddering free with every thrust.
All the while, of course, Negan never shuts up.
“Fuck,” he spits, giving Rick another slap to his ass. “Tight as hell fuckin’ ass right here, fitting me like a motherfucking vise. And wetter than a nun in church! I can feel you, Georgia, just squeezing me like that; you love this shit.” He gives a pointed grind in, earning a raspy wail as Rick’s battered prostate throbs from the treatment. All of Rick’s breaths come in and leave him in thin wheezes. He swears the sounds make Negan harder; swears he can feel the man’s cock firm impossibly more inside. A rough hand grabs Rick’s curls, pulling his head off the mattress. “You gonna pass out, baby? It’s okay if you do. Oh, hell yes, it is. I’ll fuck you through it, darlin’, I’ll get you there at least one more time.”
Rick’s lips tremble in a broken, near-silent cry. The air is thick and humid, sweltering. His body jostles with every thrust, muscles hot and weak like overcooked noodles. And Negan keeps laying claim to him, spitting lewd promises that threaten to make Rick’s cock try to rise again. It hurts, but it’s incredible, he aches all over—
Suddenly, Negan stops, half-pulled out. Rick would scream if he could. “D-don’t… no, please, Negan, I-I—”
Negan pulls out anyway, and Rick mewls miserably. He’s too weak to chase after, but too hungry to be satisfied, pleas bubbling and spilling with rare smatters of coherency from his lips.
The mattress dips, shifting under him. Rick can’t even rub his face against the sheets to dry his tears, fine tremors coursing through him.
He’s grabbed again, but this time, the hands are firm yet surprisingly gentle. Rick whimpers as Negan pulls him up, gathering him into his arms. Holding him from behind, crooning sweet nothings into his ear. He sags back into him, shivering, muscles spasming at random as Negan envelopes him in warmth. The only thing keeping it from being purely sweet is the hard, insistent length grinding against his ass.
“Shh, shh,” soothes Negan, most of the mocking gone from his voice. “Breathe, darlin’, you’re okay. Daddy’s got you.”
Rick’s head lolls back against a steady shoulder. It gives Negan the perfect leeway to kiss and nip his cheek, down to his throat, while his hands pet over Rick’s damp, sweaty body. He swallows when Negan traces over his cock again, a violent shudder ripping through him. A low chuckle ghosts over his skin, and Negan shifts under him. Gathering Rick’s legs, scooting so Negan is leaning against the wall and Rick straddles his lap, half-raised on trembling limbs. When the slippery cock of his lover grazes against his ass, Rick keens and tries to sink onto it.
“Ah, ah, ah,” tuts Negan. His grip goes hard again, keeping Rick’s ass above his belly, kissing his flushed cheek. “I know you’re not done, baby. But you gotta do something for me, first.
“Say the magic word.”
Desperation bubbles and bursts out of him. “Please, please, oh, please, Negan, daddy—” He cuts off with a shout, suddenly filled to the brim as Negan pulls him back onto his waiting cock.
“Oh, c’mon, you gorgeous, stubborn asshole. Move those hips for me. I can’t do all the work tonight.”
It’s a fresh new punishment that almost, almost breaks Rick to pieces. It’s also an unmistakable challenge, and even if he can’t move for a year after this, like hell is he going to back down.
Rick grapples for strength, dredging it from somewhere deep inside him. Clenches his hands around Negan’s forearms, shakily raises a couple inches onto his legs, then drops back down with a cracked moan. Negan makes a noise in his throat. Whatever it is, Rick’s primal brain translates it as encouragement.
He forces himself back up, thighs trembling, managing to make it higher before falling back again. Then again, and again, until he wrenches a low groan from his lover.
Greedily, Rick drinks that sound up, using it to fuel himself. His thighs burn, his core tight, but he manages to start a rhythm. Riding Negan, digging his nails into the other man’s arms, moans and cries bursting out of him with each drop down. Even then, he’s shifting, swiveling, until one small adjustment has him landing so Negan’s dick hits that sweet spot. Stars erupt and fizzle behind his eyelids. There, th-there, he thinks he says. Whether he did or not, whether Negan heard him or not, it’s all the other man needs to spread his legs, slide down, and start fucking up into Rick with animalistic fury.
The room floods with slaps of skin on skin, lube squelching. Negan sets to striking Rick’s prostate with every thrust, hands gripping so hard that Rick can already feel bruises forming. He tries to use what energy he has left to work with him, but the more Negan hits his prostate, the less he can even hold himself up.
Rick fairly falls forward, stopping himself with outstretched hands. Keening and gasping as Negan simply adjusts his position to continue fucking him. Back on his hands and knees, albeit with one of Negan’s arms securely wrapped around him, pressing him back tight to his sweaty chest.
“That’s it,” hisses Negan, nipping his ear, leaving harsh kisses against the side of his head. “You’re all good now, aren’t you? All blissed out, ready to be mine again.”
Rick can barely comprehend the words over the ache of his swinging, half-hard cock.
“You gonna do it?” demands Negan. His hips pick up the pace, all but blinding Rick with how he slams into him. “Gonna be my sweet little Georgia peach again?”
“N… Negan…” Rick’s voice slurs out of him as though drunk, thick with saliva.
“Gonna gush for me when I squeeze you just right?” Negan follows the unfair question with a single slap to Rick’s already sore, stinging ass. The arm banded around Rick shifts to one-handedly grasp his pec and clench. Negan gives him a hard thrust. Once. Twice.
Everything goes white. Rick distantly recognizes his own screams, can feel the warm gush of Negan coming inside of him. His own body wracks in a dry orgasm, rippling and clutching and seizing. Negan’s curses are lost to a high-pitched ringing in his ears, rattling between his head. Even though he’s utterly spent, Rick’s body clenches and spasms in what is easily the strongest, most incredible, and most painful experience he’s ever had.
He doesn’t pass out, exactly. Rick is vaguely aware, via impressions more than reliable senses, of what happens after. Negan pulling out, cum and lube spilling out of him. A warm, gentle cloth cleaning the sweat, cum, and stickiness clinging to his skin. Sweet kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his lips, gestures he tries (but isn’t sure if he succeeds in) returning.
This, he thinks, is the best part of it all. They may fuck around and get absolutely wild sometimes, but it’s the tender care Negan dotes on him after that leaves him a truly blissed out puddle after.
Eventually, he opens his eyes. Sheer exhaustion keeps him limp. Fortunately, there’s nowhere else he needs or wants to be. Negan has clearly showered while he recovered, hair still damp, arms cradling him close. A thin sheet drapes over them.
“Mm,” mumbles Rick.
Negan smirks. “Feel better now, darlin’?”
Rick yawns loudly. “You’re… an asshole…” He winces when Negan laughs a little too loudly. The whiskery kiss pressed near his eye helps, though.
“I may be the asshole, but you suck at your job.” At Rick’s puzzled squint, he elaborates. “There’s no such thing as a food truckapalooza or whatever the shit I called it.”
God damn it. He should’ve known better. Rick presses his face into his lover’s warm chest, comforted by the thick, dark hair brushing his forehead. “Asshole.”
Negan hums in agreement. Gently, he tucks a stray curl out of the way.
Silence laps quietly at them, like a gentle ocean tide. Negan eventually rolls onto his back, still holding him, and flicks off a bedside lamp. Rick was so out of it, he hadn’t even noticed when he turned it on.
They settle back in. Rick feels like he can sleep for a week.
“Rest up, sweet Georgia peach,” whispers Negan. Rick makes a contented noise. “I’m gonna be up for round two in the morning.”
Even the dread that inspires isn’t enough to keep Rick awake. The last thought he has, however, is still on point.
Asshole.