The sun beat down on Carl but that wasn't what was making him red. Eyes were on him, big and brown, with a wolf like grin to match. Negan's men hurried around them, gathering boxes of food, medicine, and whatever the hell else Negan wanted from their home. Carl didn't need to look to know that Negan's gaze belonged to him. He was the one who caused it all.
Carl, sharp ribs poking out from beneath skin and scraped knees, was caught staring first. He could feel it in his bones when he knew, not that he wanted Negan, but that he wanted something his mother and father would have never wanted for him. Boys. He snuck Daryl's porn magazines and felt nothing for the topless "angels" he would ramble about to Rick. Carl tried and tried and tried again, but the soft girl skin and long lashes and spread legs did nothing but make him feel uneasy.
One look of Negan, though, and there was something shifting inside. Something red hot and wrong. Negan was the type of man little girls get warned about and the type of man little boys dream of being. Carl couldn't tell if he was a little boy or girl. Both sounded amazing. To be Negan's baby girl, wait for him to come home and give him everything. Or to have the power of him, have men bow as soon as they see him and shiver at the sound of his name.
This was Carl's fault. The unbreakable gaze from Negan and his red cheeks. He looked at Negan too long. He looked at the light in his coffee eyes and the leather stretched around his body and his fingers curled around the curve of the bat. And he dreamed. Dreamed of being touched like the bat and touching the leather as he yanked it from his body. And the asshole saw him. Saw it all. The second of weakness. The two seconds of longing. The three seconds of want. The four seconds of need.
He was just a dollfaced little boy. His body held together by meals every other day and a belt his dad used to own. Carl was young. Seventeen or so. He couldn't remember very well. But despite how young he was, he knew what he wanted. And it was the man dark as tar and evil as the devil. The man who played God and loved every minute of it. The man staring him down as if to make Carl drop to his knees and beg for something, anything.
One look is all it would take. A few words and a smile. Carl was soft hearted. He let Negan in and if Negan asked Carl would join him. After the murder, after the stealing, after the Sanctuary. After it all. Carl still wanted him. His mama always said love was filled with "despite", "even though", and "I forgive you" so Carl was ready for love. For forgiveness. For the hard days.
The only bad thing was that Negan hasn't seen this side. The side who's seventeen and falling helplessly in love with the tempting darkness surrounding him. The boy who knows he's oh so different but can't change no matter how hard he tries. The cops little boy. The kid of the group. Negan had yet to see the bitten nails and scribbles Carl did on spare sheets of paper.
"Hope your mama taught you that staring is rude." Negan was close. Breathing down his neck like a wolf. Waiting to see if Carl would run. Flinch. Hide. He was inches away, eyes scanning the boys bony body. All moulnurished and scarred up. "Shouldn't ever eye nobody that long."
Carl swallowed the gasp that tried to leap from his throat along with the "I want you" seeping from is heart. "I was just looking at you." He lied. "Nothing more. Nothing less. You always want everyone looking. What's wrong with that?"
"The way you look." Negan shot back. Carl looked away and Negan knew he won instantly. The kid had given in. He learned his place and backed down. "You didn't stare at me outta fear. You were giving me some serious bedroom eyes-"
"I was not." Carl didn't need another reason to stand out. Michonne and Rick loved him, but they also walked around him. Didn't mention Lori or how Carl chose to kill her. Rick only nods when Carl asks to go out and kill something. He was already the grade A freak. He didn't need this getting out. "You're just cocky."
"Oh?" Negan mused. He stepped around Carl, long legs with shoelaces tied aroujd the ankles. His bat hung low, dragging across the ground. "So... you weren't undressing me with your eyes?"
Carl shook his head, keeping his face blank. "Why would I?"
"Because you like boys." The words slipped from Negan's mouth, watery wet and glistening.
Carl was thirsty, all raw throat and dry coughs. "I don't." He meant to scream but all it was, was a small, dry, whisper.
Negan tilted his head up. "Does daddy know?" Leather rubbed across Carl's chin and lips. He tasted like sin. Carl felt disgusted for letting him in, but all he wanted to do was taste him once more. "You out here looking at guys?"
"No." Carl pulled away, his legs barely taking him a few feet. A boy had never touched him like that. Carl was settled on living alone. Dying in a few years from a walker or a gunshot or some disease. The kid had made peace with the fact that the world wouldn't be kind enough to give him anything, especially since it had only taken.
Negan pursed his lips, black strands of hair falling in front of his face. Slowly, he leaned in, and Carl wondered if this is how Eve felt when the Serpent tempted her with the fruit. In Sunday school, he was taught that biting it was a sin, but how could something so bad seem so good? Biting Negan's lips bloody and needy seemed like heaven. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips so that they shined spit slick in the sun. Temptation.
Warm fingers touched his skin, sending jolts of electricity through his body. Carl's fingers curved around Negan's arms, his weight slowly pressing into him. Negan brushed hair from his face, fingers memorizing his soft girl skin. Carl's eyes closed, but he wasn't sure when they did. But he was pressed against Negan, and that was what mattered.
Negan kissed gently, his lips teasing Carl's. Hovering. Pressing light kisses to his virgin lips. Carl sighed into his mouth, pulling Negan down closer. Hands were on Carl's hips and a tongue was in his mouth. Negan's. Carl rocked his body forward, clawing at Negan to get him closer, to keep him there. All Carl wanted to do was be close to him. Grind their bodies together and become one. One heart.
Negan pulled away, pecking Carl's lips once more. "Mm." He hummed, brushing Carl's hair from his face. He had cherry swollen lips and blushing pink cheeks. His eyes fluttered closed as he leaned in once more. Negan nudged him away, shaking his head. "Slow down, kid. Still got a lot to learn-"
"But-" Carl argued. "I could come with you." He didn't know what he was saying. But he needed Negan. To taste him. To feel him. To be with him in any way he could. Carl craved it. His body ached, the kinda ache that lovers get when they meet and must pull away. Heartbreak ache that muddle school girls get.
"No." Negan backed away, swinging his bat up and onto his shoulder. "I'll be seeing you around, kid." He glanced over his shoulder. "Behave."
As Carl watched Negan walk away, he wondered if this was how Eve felt when she was exiled from the garden. And if this was how Adam felt when he walked away from her.
