Fire of my loins

4

Carl's joy hadn't lasted as long as he'd hoped. As soon as his feet hit the ground getting out of the car he sunk. What kind of man would Negan be to mess with a kid? What was he even thinking about getting his hopes up, he felt dumb.

    Carl started becoming anxious and he only had one thing to solve. He knew he had a problem but he didn't care. So he did as he always did when he felt this way, he drank his sorrows away.

    Sure Carl may seem like a goody-two-shoes kid, but ever since Shane gave him a sip of his drink at the Fourth of July party he hasn't been able to get enough. Carl liked the way he dealt with things, he didn't care if they were wrong.

     So as soon as mommy and daddy's head hit the soft pillows on their bed he snuck his mom's fruity vodka shit and went to town. It's not like she would realize anyway, the bottle had been long since forgotten at the bottom of the freezer.

    Soft creaks could be heard as Carl made his way to his room. He finally made it up those god-awful stairs and plopped down on his cushy bed. While unscrewing the cap of the more-than-half full bottle he felt a vibrate on his outer thigh.

     He pushed a heavy sigh out of his swollen lips, he needed to stop biting his lips when he got anxious. He pulled his phone out of his front pocket while shifting the bottle of vodka to his other hand and realized it was the one and only Ron. He and Ron had been friends since like, forever.

     Ron wanted to be more, but Carl knew he wasn't looking for anything serious. Carl on the other hand wanted his first relationship and, other things to be special. He looked down at the phone and saw the most unoriginal and driest text ever that he got the ick almost immediately.

"wyd" -read at 11:26

     While he was thinking of a response, weighing the pros and cons of just leaving him on reading, he must have been too late because Ron started typing after a minute or two.

"r u srsly ignoring me? 😒" -read at 11:29

    God is Ron annoying sometimes, he went over the benefits of replying and found there were know he liked enough to respond. So he tossed his phone onto the beanbag in the corner of his room and threw his hoodie off.

    He finally got to get back to what he was trying to do earlier. He quickly unscrewed the cap and took a gulp, he walked over to his radio and turned on Bluetooth. He went to connect his phone while sucking on the smooth glass bottle as if he were a  baby.
    
     He put on one of his playlists and his ears were instantly invaded by  "Brooklyn Baby" by Lana Del  Rey. Carl hummed in satisfaction as he slightly stumbled and twirled around trying to shake his hips to the rhythm.
    
     He took another large gulp of the alcoholic substance until the buzz of his phone started to bother him. He grabbed his phone and softly put down the drink on his nightstand to belly flop onto the bouncy bed and turned on his phone. "Twenty messages from Ron wow." Carl wasn't surprised at all.
 
     He looked a little harder and saw a new contract that he hadn't seen before, he thought for a few seconds, and then his face went fully red. He groaned and went to see what negan had said to him.

"Hey sorry I texted so late kid, had to take care of some stuff." - read 12:32
    
     Carl giggled while typing out his reply without even thinking about it.

"Like what" - read 12:33

"Adult stuff.  Shouldn't you be asleep young man? 🤔" - read at 12:33
    
     Carl rolled his eyes and started to type out a snarky reply with a smirk on his lips.

"Yr the 1 wh textd me first OLDS man 🙄" - read at 12:34

"Cmon don't pull the old man card on me Carl, I'm only 52 promise ;)" -read at 12:34

     Carl's smug look went away so fast and was replaced with a flushed look and threw his phone to the end of the bed then started flapping his hands like they were on fire. He didn't know why but the winky face made him feel things, the age may have been a part of it too. His heart started beating faster and he felt butterflies in his stomach.

     Of course, hadn't meant to but he could already feel his dick hardening. He didn't care if it was wrong it made him feel amazing and he didn't feel like taking a cold shower right now. Carl had touched himself before but never to a specific person. He kicked off his jeans and underwear gasping at the tight denim rubbing against his groin.

     Carl slid his hand down his chest until he was met with his hips, he kneaded at his boney hips and his squishy thighs. He imagined that his hands were Negans as he reached to the more intimate part of his lower half. His soft grip on his cock was enough to make his hips jerk up into the air.

     He felt like a pervert as he imagined his hands bigger and rougher. He imagined how the hand he shook at the party would feel slipping under his t-shirt and what they would feel like caressing his collar bones and what it would feel like to have him suck on them, and if he would be rough or soft.

     All you could hear in the room were the soft moans of Carl's pleasure and the shift of the sheets along with the slick sounds of his wet hand going up and down sliding along his shaft while rubbing the tip with the pad of his thumb.

     Suddenly there was a high pitch squeak from Carl as he came all over his fist. Carl let out a few hitched breaths before he wiped the evidence on his discarded underwear. He was too lazy to clean up, he'd do it tomorrow.
...
Carl woke up to a knock on his door. "Yeah, one second!" He whisper-yelled at his father to stop knocking at his door at five am. "Get ready, and get into your live lesson!"

     His dad, Rick yelled. Carl rolled over and finally opened his eyes and the sun from the window felt warm against his face. To be honest he didn't want to do anything remotely close to school. He had a killer headache and felt like he was going to die just by rolling over.

     He stretched and then his foot touched something with a weird texture. He paused for a moment and looked down. "What the, oh." The memories of the embarrassing act that he pulled last night all came back Instantly and he flushed.

     What if Negan thinks he's weird because of how he texted last night, or how he stopped replying suddenly? What if he knew what Carl did? Carl hates giving into the stereotype of "pervy mentally ill gay", but he fits it pretty well. He shook his head trying to get those thoughts out of the way.

     He feels like shit today, just his luck. He pushed himself up and off the bed, putting on a clean pair of clothes that consisted of a long sleeve sweater and a pair of blue jeans, it was too damn cold in his house.