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Negan had honestly thought trapping himself and Rick alone together would be a wise move. It was a strategic one, meticulously planned since he and the Saviors had been cornered by the undead at Sanctuary by Rick and his group and executed flawlessly.
The fact that he had really, truly thought this was a good decision made its miserable failure that much more bitter.
Rick was a man possessed right now- Negan hadn’t planned on that. When he’d heard the man’s voice the day they'd spoken over the radio- that soft, deep drawl saying Carl’s dead with such distant, heartbroken sadness seeping into every syllable- he’d been sure the man was broken beyond repair. He had seen Rick when he was mourning before- hell, he'd been the cause of it. Tearful, cowed, head down and limbs shaky. That was how he’d been that fateful night out in the blood-soaked clearing where they’d first met. That was the man Negan expected to find when he had the Saviors block them both into a decrepit cabin in the forest a mile or so from the Sanctuary.
That wasn’t the man he got.
Rick was broken, that was for damn sure. His body looked so tightly drawn and stiff with his burden of grief that Negan was surprised he could even walk. He had scrapes across his face- a split lip, a cut above his left eye and one on his forehead. His eyes betrayed him the most, though. That deep, soulful blue looked misty and soaked with stormclouds, his face a crumbling mask that kept slipping to show the cracked visage beneath.
As soon as Rick realized they were trapped together, he lunged.
Teeth gnashing, nails digging into soft leather, shoulder to Negan’s ribs, Rick took him to the ground like he was nothing. The breath left Negan, ragged wheezes ripping out of him as Rick laid into him with his fists.
Negan had always figured that Rick would want to end him with his bare hands. Truth be told, if he had to die, he’d rather it be like that- a crime of passion. He didn’t want the humiliation of an execution, on his knees and then dead in a second, bullet between the eyes while hundreds watched. That’s how Rick would have done it if he’d captured him, just to give everyone else the satisfaction of watching the life leave him. But here? Now? Cornered, with nothing left to lose? Rick’s gun stayed on his belt, his axe across the room where it had fallen.
As Rick’s bloodied knuckles met his face again and again, Negan realized, not for the first time, that he’d fatally underestimated Rick Grimes. He’d thought the man was broken, but he was resilient. He’d thought he was cowardly, but he was brave. He’d thought Rick was small, weak, and yet now here Negan was, on his back, unable to escape the ruthless blows being rained down onto him.
Rick knew how to throw a punch and make it count. Negan tasted blood, saw red, couldn’t buck the man off from where he sat astride his hips.
“You…fucking…psycho-” Negan managed to spit out- literally, with blood splattering onto Rick’s filthy blue shirt.
Rick just kept wailing on him, and Negan could only think to start hitting him back, blind and hoping. He struck out at the man, catching hard muscle, but it didn’t slow him down. He squirmed, knees pounding on Rick’s back, and finally clawed at him in desperation, catching his shirt collar and yanking hard enough to rip the fabric open, buttons popping off and skittering across the dusty wooden floor.
That threw Rick off just long enough for Negan to roll them, Rick on his back and Negan bearing down on him hard, chest to chest and nose to nose.
“I’m gonna kill you,” Rick hissed, his breath warm and hot on Negan’s chin. He’d said it so many times, and finally Negan understood that he truly meant it. Something dark dripped onto Rick’s cheek and ran down the side of his face- Negan followed it with his eyes, wondering at it, until he realized it was his own blood.
He snarled, pressing Rick down harder. “I don’t think you are, baby.”
Rick lunged forward again, his teeth snapping shut an inch from Negan’s throat before Negan could rear back in shock, half-snarling and half laughing as Rick hooked his leg and flipped them over again so that he had Negan pinned. Rick’s nails bit into his wrists as he held them down above his head.
“Were you gonna try to bite my fucking throat out?” Negan laughed, “you really are losin’ it, Rick.”
Rick’s hips dropped, digging into Negan’s. Groin to groin, Rick’s bare chest to Negan’s leather-clad one, Negan’s knees bracketing Rick’s waist. Rick’s voice was low- nearly seductive- in Negan’s ear. “I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again.” A shudder ran through Negan then, but fear was far from his mind.
Negan wrestled one arm free, reached down to grip at Rick’s belt and pull the man more firmly against him, testing the waters, and Rick sank his sharp white wolf’s teeth into the side of Negan’s neck. He went just far enough to make Negan suck in a hard breath and make a noise of discomfort. He’d be bruised tomorrow- if he made it out of this goddamned cabin alive, he mentally supplied.
Rick held him there, his breath hot, a wolf with a fox caught in its jaws.
“Just fucking do it, baby.” He pulled Rick against him again, and to his shock, Rick’s hips rolled down into his own.
Negan’s eyes fluttered closed. He didn’t want the water-stained, sagging ceiling of the cabin to the last thing he saw on this shithole of an earth. He pictured Rick’s face instead, how he must look right now- full lips pulled back into a snarl, teeth shining, jeans pulled tight against his ass from where Negan was grabbing at him. “Just do it.”
Negan barely registered Rick letting him go, because a second later there was a sharp crack of a strong palm against his cheek, and he was staring wide-eyed and shocked up into stormy blue eyes.
“You ruin everything you fucking touch,” Rick growled. His hair hung in ringlets around his face, clung in wet curls to his neck and forehead.
“You’re goddamn right I do.” Negan tipped his head forward, chin raised in one last bid at defiance. “At least give me a kiss before you kill me, Rick. It’s the least you could do.”
Maybe he was already dead. That was the only possible explanation for the tingling sensation of warm, chapped-but-soft lips covering his own in a kiss whose tenderness gave way the moment Negan returned it. He dared to reciprocate, and he got teeth nipping at his lower lip hard while his belt was undone, his jacket unzipped.
He didn’t dare open his eyes, didn’t dare speak lest he break the spell they were both under. Hell, if he was going to die today, he was going to go out with a goddamned bang. And if he really was already dead…well, he wasn’t about to open his mouth to question why he'd been sent to heaven instead of hell.
Rick didn’t have the same reservations. He was rough, ripping at both their clothes until Negan was bare and Rick’s own jeans were undone, his jacket crumpled beside them on the floor. He dove down for another kiss and Negan tasted blood- whose, he couldn’t say.
“Look at me,” Rick rasped, and who could disobey him? Negan gazed with wonder and shock and lust up into the eyes that had haunted him for weeks, both waking and sleeping. The man was flushed and undone, out of his head with some urgent desire that had driven him to this. “You want me,” he stated simply, but there was a question there, asking for confirmation.
In lieu of speaking, Negan grabbed the tattered remains of Rick's shirt and pulled it off his shoulders, baring the man’s chest, and Negan sucked in a reverent breath. He had to touch him- he’d pictured Rick like this so many times, but for once, the reality was better than the fantasy he’d conjured. Hard planes of muscle contrasted beautifully with areas of softness, his skin soaked with sweat but smooth beneath Negan’s wanting fingers. There were scars, ones he could see on Rick’s torso and ones he could only feel when his hands slid down Rick’s back.
He could have laid there and simply touched Rick like that forever, with all the careful reverence of someone handling precious relics of bygone saints.
Rick was no saint, but when he stood, dark curling hair tossed around his face and backlit by the dying light of the red-orange sunset melting in through the windows, Negan was reminded of old stories his evangelical grandmother used to tell him of blood-soaked and battle-worn avenging angels. When he looked down at Negan, though, all of that haughty pride he usually carried had fallen away, overtaken by something new and hungry.
Rick shed the rest of his clothes quickly, letting Negan watch him as he did. He freed his cock from the confines of faded blue boxers and immediately Negan’s mouth watered at the sight of it, thick and flushed as pink as Rick’s cheeks.
“You want me?” Rick asked again, cocky this time, taunting as he wrapped a strong hand around his length and gave it a slow, luxurious stroke. Negan swallowed hard, watching precome drip from the slit, watching Rick’s balls bounce lightly between his thick thighs with each flick of his wrist.
He found his voice.
“Get the fuck down here.”
Rick did, covering Negan’s body with his own, skin to skin, cocks rubbing together as they ground against each other. Negan lost himself in that for what felt like hours, in the barely-there glide of Rick right where he needed him, of Rick sucking what were sure to be dark bruises onto his neck and down to his collarbones.
“I’ve got…in my jacket pocket. Left side.”
Rick pulled back, tilting his head and squinting at him before frisking the pile of leather for-
“Why the hell do you carry this with you?” Rick almost, almost looked like he was on the verge of laughter, and that was a craving Negan never realized he possessed.
“You never fuckin’ know,” Negan replied with a wink.
You never know when Rick fucking Grimes might decide to throw your fucking leg over his shoulder and pop the cap on your fucking cherry lube and finger you so goddamn good that you’ve just gotta wonder-
“Ricky-aah-Ricky-dicky Grimes,” Negan moaned out, squeezing tight around Rick's questing fingers. “You ever been with a man, baby? Because you’re doin’ one hell of a bang-up job right now, but I never pegged you as the type.” He reached around Rick’s hip with one hand, squeezing a soft cheek. Goddamn, he'd fantasized about grabbing that pert little ass in his hands for weeks, and here he was, like something out of a wet dream. “Uptight as you usually are, I’d be surprised if anyone could even fit their dick up your asshole.” He slid a single finger over Rick’s opening as if to prove his point. “Yep. Just as tight as I fucking thought.”
To his surprise, Rick chuckled low in his throat as his fingers worked in and out with excruciating slowness, the pads of his fingers rubbing over Negan’s prostate on the pushes in and drags out. “You’d be surprised what I’ve had inside of me,” he purred, and Negan groaned at the image Rick’s words evoked- Rick Grimes bent over and taking it like a champ, dick bouncing between his thighs and ass clenching as he was fucked. “But that doesn’t matter tonight.” Rick's free hand threaded into Negan’s hair and jerked his head back so that he was forced to look Rick in the eye as he spoke. “Because you’re going to be the one taking my dick.”
Negan shuddered against Rick, the man’s slippery, thick fingers sliding out of him. Negan reached for the lube before Rick could, squeezing some out onto his palm. “Let me get you ready, then.”
He just wanted to touch him, take Rick’s cock in his hand and feel how hard he was, and Rick didn’t disappoint. He gripped Negan’s knees as Negan worked him in his fist, giving that beautiful cock long, slow tugs and rubbing gently over the slit at the head, watching Rick drip over his fingers like honey.
I did that to him.
The thought was almost more than Negan could take, and he was sure that if Rick had been touching him at all in the moment, he would have come instantly.
When Rick’s length was slick and shining, Negan forced himself to let go. He watched with rapt fascination as Rick took himself in hand again and guided his cock to Negan, pressed against him with one of Negan’s long legs still draped over his shoulder.
Rick nearly bent him in half so their foreheads could press together while he slid inside, his smile a wicked curve on his full lips as Negan gasped and grabbed at his hips to take him deeper. He needed more- Rick was inching in like anything faster would rip Negan in half, and the deliberate slowness was driving him mad. Nails bit into Rick’s skin, teeth nipped at his shoulder. “C’mon, fuck, come the fuck on, Rick, you’re like a goddamned grandma on the freeway-” Negan tried to pull at Rick’s hips again, only to find his wrists wrenched away and pinned to the floor above his head once again.
“You’re not in charge here,” Rick growled, giving his hips a slow, taunting roll into Negan that left them both groaning. He smirked, that sexy-as-sin cockiness back in action. “I know it’s hard, but try to be patient, Negan.”
A hissing growl left Negan’s throat frustration and need clawing at him from the inside out, and then Rick was in him to the hilt in one smooth thrust, and Negan was left breathless and stunned on the cabin floor as he tried to adjust to the full stretch of Rick’s cock.
Rick fucked like he fought- with passion, with that raw, gut-deep intensity that Negan always saw glittering in his eyes. He held nothing back, one moment bending Negan nearly in half, legs over his shoulders so that Negan’s muscles ached, the next moment sliding back and pulling Negan's knees around his taught waistline so that he could rock back on his heels and fuck him with teasing rolls of his bruised hips.
He was good, Negan couldn’t deny him that. Rick’s cock was thick and long and fucking perfect inside him, the girth of it parting him and rubbing over the sensitive bundle of nerves that was making Negan unravel at his very core.
Rick kept kissing him, smothering both of their ravaged moans with needy kisses and lashes of his tongue. “Fuck.” Negan couldn’t keep his hands off of him, couldn’t stop raking his nails down the man’s back just to feel him shudder with delight and fuck him harder, couldn’t stop grabbing at his perfect ass to try to pull him even deeper inside.
“You’re gonna come from me fucking you,” Rick breathed against the side of his throat. Their hips rolled and clashed together, storm-tossed waves against the beaten shore. “Gonne come with me inside you.”
Negan could only nod, head falling back and mouth open on a permanent moan- and then Rick was out, and the void his cock left made Negan feel empty and on the verge of screaming. “What the fucking fuck, Rick-”
Rick laid on his back, knees bent and thighs parted, hand on the dick that Negan would have killed to be back on in that moment. “Ride me. I know you’re not gonna make me do all the work.” He was teasing him- lips curved into a smirk, and Negan was straddling his lap and guiding his cock back inside in seconds, taking it with a satisfied purr as his hands roamed over Rick’s bare body, squeezing his firm pecs and rubbing over his nipples, tracing the muscles of his chest and abdomen.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, Rick, that’s so fucking good.” Every move he made was countered by Rick’s own hips snapping up into him. Negan could right him right into bliss, his head lolling back and lips parted. “So fucking big.” So fucking beautiful, Negan wanted to say, because it was true. Rick had always been beautiful, right from the night Negan had met him. He was beautiful when he was broken, he was beautiful when he was strong…and he was goddamned gorgeous now, completely uninhibited and undone, flushed with arousal down his chest and want etched into every curve and plane of his graceful body.
When Rick took him by the waist and tilted his hips so that he could better thrust up into his sweet spot, Negan was gone, stars overtaking his vision, Rick’s name the only thing he was able to utter as he spilled onto Rick’s belly and chest, marking him in white.
Rick’s name was his prayer, cries of Rick, Rick, Rick heavy on his tongue and in his heaving chest.
He nearly collapsed onto the younger man as he came down, the rush of it so intense that it drained him. He caught himself on his elbows, bowing over Rick’s body while Rick continued to use him for his pleasure, hard cock sliding in and out, in and out.
He felt honored, and fuck, if he wasn’t pushing fifty he was sure he’d be well on his way to getting hard all over again.
Instead, he kissed Rick’s chest, his lips, squeezed his muscles around the hard length throbbing inside him until he saw pleasure cloud Rick’s lovely face and unravel him.
If he thought Rick was beautiful before, that was nothing compared to how he looked when he came. He was sex itself, eyelashes fluttering and full, pink lips falling open as he moaned brokenly. Negan took the flood of wet warmth inside him with a pleased hum, milking Rick for all he was worth until the man was finished.
After, they laid together on the floorboards, Negan’s forehead to Rick’s shoulder, Rick’s cheek to his hair. Negan wasn’t sure what came next- there was no protocol for what to do when Rick looked flawless and sex-soaked and debauched from what they’d just done.
The Saviors were still outside, waiting for him to come out with Rick’s head on a stake.
He decided to save that thought for another day.