Negan used to hate the morning. It meant waking up and facing the world for what it was. Waking up meant that whatever dream he was having was only a dream. Dead people still roamed the earth, eating anything they could get their hands on. His wife, Lucille was still dead, the only thing he had in memory of her was a beat up bat. Mornings were the worst. It meant letting go of whatever lie you created the night before and continuing to live in the world that was run by the walking dead.
When Carl came around, Negan didn't think mornings would be better. Carl was just another one of his toys, he just seemed to fight more. Most of Negans wives only spent he bare minimum amount of time with him. They would hide and organize their day around where Negan would be at what time. Negan was used to being alone, having meetings and leaving. It was easy. Carl decided he wanted to change that. Instead of staying in Negans room and running away at any chance he got, Carl clung to him.
It didn't take long for Carl to become someone more important than his wives. The label sounded odd, considering when people are in love they get married, but the entire idea of marriage was twisted in Negans head. If he loved someone, he loved them, he didn't need some piece of paper and a dumb ring to make it official. Carl was his right hand man in two weeks. The boy learned fast, learning how to speak and how to punish. Negan would be lying if he said it wasn't hot how power hungry his boy was. How Carl craved to be in control.
Unlike Negans wives, they shared a room. They had sex and ate dinner together and did all of the weird things couples did. But they also planned. At night they would stay up and map out new places go scavenge. They would plan on who went where and what jobs needed more people. Carl helped run the place, honestly. And the people loved him. Loved to hate him, that is. One moment Carl could be smiling at you then the next he could have a gun pressed to your stomach.
Carl had a hard outside. He built walls up higher than Negan knew was possible. The boy had been hurt. Abused. Traumatized. Torn apart by humans rather than walkers. He knew what worked, the same way Negan did. So, instead of being himself, he was someone else. The kind of person he wanted to be. Cold and careless and brave. Carl made up an entirely different personality to talk to each person. Some got a kind one. Some got a broken one. But most got a hardass who wasn't afraid to break a few bones.
Hiding himself had become second nature for Carl. He did it around Rick and Michonne. He did it around Dwight and Simon. He did it around the Alexandrians and the Saviors. Each personality catered to the person who spoke with it. Negan loved all of them, really. The way Carl could go from cold to caring within seconds drove Negan wild. But Carl also had a real personality. One that was tough but also sweet. One that wasn't just black and white.
Negan was onlt lucky enough to see that personality in the morning. When rays of sun danced across the room and no one was up yet. Carl didn't have to put on a fake attitude and be colder than he really was. He didn't have to soften up and be kinder than he really was. He could just be himself, tangled in the sheets next to the man who got high off of him being himself.
"I like when you're like this." Negan whispered. Carl was laying on his chest, legs tangled in sheets and Negans own legs. "You're so much calmer like this, happier."
"It's because I can pretend it's normal. We're normal. That I'm gonna go get on the bus for school and you're gonna drive down. Teach kids while I learn." Carl shrugged. He always loved the idea of being normal, like the people on TV whose smiles never faltered. "It's easier to pretend when you're half asleep."
"Pretend all you want," Negan stroked his hair, humming. "I like when you're happy. You smile. And I never see that." Negan tried to play it off as a joke. Say it louder and laugh afterwards. But he meant it. Carl had a beautiful laugh and a even more beautiful smile. Negan wanted to be the cause of his smile every day.
"Shut up." Carl mumbled, slapping his chest. "You're being a sap and that's not you. You're the man who talks too loud and takes whats his." He sat up and looked down at Negan. "You being a romantic is a disappointment." Carl used that phrase a lot, just to mock the way Negan spoke to him when he first came to the Sanctuary.
"I can't help it..." Negan brushed hair behind Carls ear, grinning when the boy turned bright red. He ducked down and let his hair fall across his face so Negan couldn't see it. "You're my pretty doll." He sat up and kissed Carls forehead. "Pretty little wife."
"Not your wife and not your doll." Carl climbed off of Negan, pulling Negan onto his side so he could wrap his arm around Carls waist. "I'm your right hand man, treat me like one."
"You're my wife first, right hand man second." Negan kissed underneath his ear, chuckling when Carl shivered. "And I know you don't hate this. You get all blushy and happy when I call you pretty." He kissed the top of his head, pulling Carl closer. "You love being daddy's little girl." He slid his hand up Carls chest, grabbing his jaw and turning his head. "Can I have a kiss?"
"As long as you stop calling me all that dumb shit." Carls pink cheeks betrayed him, proving to Negan yet again that Carl loves the praise. The romantic words that spill from Negans mouth tie Carls heart in knots.
"You know I won't ever." Negan pecked his lips, grinning. "And you won't ever stop me."
