It was a slow night at the diner, then again most nights were slow nights. It was a small town, a little over a thousand people. Everyone knew everyone. There were regulars at every place along with a few people that were just driving through. No crime. No robberies. The town Carl lived in was the kind books were written about. Calm.
Most of the time the people that came in late were his dad and Shane. Maybe a few friends or a few truck drivers who needed something to eat before hitting the road. It was around midnight so Carl knew most of the people who might come weren't coming tonight. If he was being honest with himself he was tempted to just close up and go back home. In fact, he was about to, but a man coming in ruined his plan. Carl didn't really mind though, once he got a good look at the man.
The man was tall, taller than his dad and Shane, which was something rare in town. Most of the men were short and fat and drunk before four in the evening. But this guy wasn't. He was tall with broad shoulders and muscular arms. His leather jacket was catching the neon lights of the "open sign" and he boots stomped against the ground. His motorcycle was parked in the back of the lot, Carl assumed it was because he didn't want anyone parking near it. That meant it was expensive. Good thing Carls type was tall, dark, and rich.
The bell rang as the man walked inside, peeling off his gloves and stuffing them into his pockets. He scanned the room, smiling to himself when he realized no one else was in the room. Just him and Carl, along with a few other workers. Enid stood behind the counter, painting her nails and listening to some music, while their cool Dylan sat in the back making snacks for all of them to eat before they close.
"Sit anywhere you'd like." Carl smiled, reaching around Enid and grabbing a menu. He elbowed her and looked over at the man. "Think he's single?" He asked, biting his lip.
Enid tilted her head to the side before nodding. "If he's taken he probably won't reject you. His jacket might as well say "sit on my lap and call me daddy" with the way he's walking and looking around."
"That could just be his face, though." Carl turned his back to the man, facing Negan. "How do I look? Do I look okay?"
"You look like a twink, but I'm sure that's his type. It's almost any man over the have of 35s type." She looked past Carl, staring at Negan. "His face is a nice face." She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down. "You've been complaining about being a virgin, here's your chance." She shoved him away, waving goodbye to him before blowing on her nails.
Carl sighed, rubbing his face. He could do this. He flirts with costumers all the time. But those were for tips. This was for something very different. He ran his fingers through his hair before walking over to where the man sat. It was a small booth in the corner next to two windows. "Nice place to sit." Carl already regretted speaking. "It's a nice night, isn't it?"
The man looked up at Carl, nodding once. "Mhm. Can you get me some coffee or are you going to tell me your life story, too?" He crossed his arms over his chest and sunk back into the seat. His jacket had a few patches but they were in the front. One patch was a red and white coke logo, but it was dirty and faded. Another patch was black wording with white trim that read "Negan." Carl had never heard if that name, not that he was picky. This man was hot with slicked back hair and the smell of smoke lingering around him. Carl wanted him so bad at this point that he could be named Jesus and Carl would still fuck him.
Carl rolled his eyes. Assholes. That was another one of Carls types. Men who treated him like he was nothing. It hurt in the beginning but after a while it was better. They didn't want any strings attached and neither did Carl. "Nope. One coffee coming up. Would you like it as black as your heart or as black as your jacket?"
