From upstairs in his room Carl could hear the TV. It was some loud game show with stupid sound affects and an obnoxious host who tried too hard. It was annoying, part of Carl wanted to grab his bat and walk downstairs and break it, but that wasn't going to do anything but make his parents come home early. It would get Negans attention for a little while and that was always nice, but then he would bring up his parents, like Shane, and it would just be a mess.
Carl learned from a young age that attention was nice. He started punching kids at the age of six so his dad would come to school and give him a "stern talking to" before taking him home. Carl would cry and beg for his dad not to hate him and Rick would just sigh and kiss his head and tell Carl that he could never hate him. That's when Carl realized being good gets you some attention but being bad gets you all of it.
Carl wanted Ricks attention more than Lori. Probably because Rick was gone at work while he spent every waking moment he was home with that woman. His mom was okay but his dad was better. His mom could see right through him but his dad was too focused on making his little boy happy to even take a second glance and realize how bad Carl was. Which is why after every fight Carl and Lori would have, Rick would come into Carls room and hug him and tell him that it's okay. That his dad's hear now and that his mom and dad still love him.
Lori stopped loving Carl about a year ago. It wasn't a big deal but she could see through the cracks of what he and Shane had done. Lori knew that Shane didn't like kids and she knew that Carl loved older men. You had to be stupid not to come to the conclusion that it was Carls fault. Then again, Lori always came to that conclusion. Carl was pretty sure that if the world was ending she would blame him for that one time he kissed Shane Walsh, a.k.a., the man she wants to bone. That's what really ticked her off. Carls kiss separated them even more than before.
"Negan!" Carl yelled from his room. "Turn the TV off its fucking annoying!" He stomped on the floor before standing up and walking to his closet. He pulled out a black shirt that was his dad's and slipped it on before walking over to one of his drawers. He pulled it open and slipped off his shorts and pulled out a new pair. They were read and said "kiss my" on the ass. He pulled them on and glanced at himself in the mirror. Long legs and blushing cheeks. Negan couldn't say no.
"You have two legs! Use them! I'm paying the pizza guy!" Negan yelled back before pulling the front door open.
Carl smirked to himself and brushed his hair a few times before opening his door and walking down the stairs. He made sure to sway his hips, but only a little bit. The pizza man blushed as he looked at Carl and Carl couldn't help but smile back at him. "Thanks for the food!" He called as he walked behind Negan and over to the TV, bending down in front of it and turning it off.
"Take the fucking money." Carl heard Negan growl as he slammed the door. Negans loud boots thudded against the wooden floor. "What the hell was that?" He asked, setting the pizza down on the table. "I didn't know you gave the pizza delivery boy a strip tease every time he came over."
Carl rolled his eyes and brushed the hair out of his face. "It wasn't a strip tease. Thid is just how I dress. Stop being dramatic, you sound like my dad." He walked into the kitchen, opening up one of the boxes of pizza. "You're just pissed someone else was looking at me." He looked back at Negan over his shoulder. "Jealous." Carl drug out the word before grinning.
"Annoying." Negan replied, mimicking the way Carl drug out the word. "I'm not pissed because he looked at you, well, I am pissed he looked at you, you're fifteen and you're hormonal, but I'm even more pissed that you're walking around like some... like some baby prostitute."
"Who says I'm not?" Carl winked, picking up a piece of pizza and taking a bite. "They're shorts, Negan. Not a big deal. You're the only one freaking out. I'm sure the pizza guy had a great time here."
"Your dad would be having a heart attack if he was here right now." Negan ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. "How does he punish you? Take away TV? Take away your slut shorts? Does he-"
"He spanks me." Carl took another bite. "With his belt." And another. He stood up and walked into the living room, swinging one leg over the back of the couch before swinging the other over, too. He laid down on the couch and sighed. "You look like you're the one having a heart attack now."
"Your dad spanks you with a belt?" Negan sighed again. Carl was beginning to think it was the only reaction the man had. "No wonder you're being a slut, you're probably turned on by it now-"
"Am." Carl chimed in. "Am turned on by it." Carl sat up. "Have you met my dad, though? He's far too innocent and far too vanilla to realize that his punishments don't do anything but turn me on. He's too sweet. He even says sorry after spanking me." Carl shook his head, laying back down. "No wonder my mom wants to fuck his friends and not him. He's too soft."
"Jesus Christ. What is wrong with you, Carl?" Negan grabbed his box of pizza and walked into the living room, sitting down on the recliner. He spread his legs and set the pizza box on the table, flipping it open. He picked a piece up and took a bite, shaking his head. "You have a lot wrong with you."
"So... I do scare you." Carl smirked. "And yeah, I know I'm not okay, I know I'm not normal, but therapy is shit and men are hot so-" He shrugged. "Why stop doing what I'm doing?"
"Because men suck, Carl. They will mistreat you and call you names and hurt you and you should be focused on school right now, not on seducing older men. It's not safe." He took another bite. "Didn't your father teach you this stuff? It's illegal, first of all, and second of all, it's just morally wrong, and third of all, you're just horny, you'll regret this."
"Would you mistreat me?" Carl asked. He set his piece of pizza down and sat up, crossing his legs. He bit his lip and looked at Negan, smiling. It was innocent. Soft. Negan didn't know how he could manage it. What he did know is that Carl had gotten a lot of men with those doe eyes and bubblegum pink lips. He was dangerous, but no men, not even his dad could see it. Only Negan. Carl thought it was poetic. The only man who saw his real self and cared was the man he wanted to marry.
"Carl-"
"Sounds like you treated your wife nice." He stood up and walked towards Negan, straddling hid hips. The boy pressed his ass down against Negan, pushing him further into the seat. Carl slid up his body, biting his lip. "Would you treat me nice?" He pressed a kiss to Negans throat and for a moment Negan believed Carl would kill him. Bite his neck and rip it out. It would be easier than rejecting him. He's so soft and tight and needy. Negan wanted to say yes so bad.
"I would treat you good." Negan breathed out. He pushed his hips up against Carls ass, closing his eyes. "I wouldn't let any other men touch you and I won't." He opened his eyes and looked down at Carl. "When you are sixteen and you still want this, tell me." Negan slid his hands up Carls thighs. "But for now, no."
Carl pouted. Innocently. He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "I want it now." He whined, grabbing at Negans shirt and slapping his hands on his chest. A temper tantrum. "Want you to rip these off of me and fuck me." Carl was smiling against his neck. "Or, we could go up to my parents room and you could punish me the way my daddy always does."
Negan grabbed Carl by the jaw, digging his nails into it. "Rick isn't your daddy, I am." He was giving in. Slowly. But he was giving in and Carl could feel it. Perfect. "So be a good boy and listen to daddy. Change clothes and get ready for bed. Understood?"
Carl smiled as if he wasn't begging for a man who was twice his age to fuck him a few seconds ago. "Okay, daddy." He climbed off of his lap and walked up the stairs, grinning. Negan had given in. He had touched him and teased him. Now it's time for Carl to tell him that he has the upper hand. That Negan wasn't in control. Never would be. "Oh, Negan?"
Negan looked up at him, crossing his legs. "What, Carl?"
"My birthday is in a week." He smiled. "I'm gonna have a birthday party at home, you should come." Carl didn't need to turn around to know two things. One, Negan was staring at him, memorizing the way his body moved. And two, Negan was panicking.
