Chapter Text
You wake to the sound of muffled thudding, interspersed with occasional scraping; what is that sound? You force open your eyes and as your brain begins to regain consciousness you realize two things; firstly, you and Negan have somehow become entangled with each other during the night; his arm draped over your waist and your head resting on his chest, whilst your own arm rests near his hip. Even your legs are wrapped around one another and you can’t help but wonder how in the fuck this happened. But secondly – and more alarmingly – the sounds you are hearing are most certainly the sounds of corpses passing carelessly past the truck.
You shift awkwardly against the floor and lift your head away from Negan’s chest. Glancing up you don’t have a chance to speak before he presses a finger to your lips. “Don’t fucking make a sound.” He whispers, glancing around the walls of the truck. “There’s a shit ton of fucking dead pricks out there.” You nod and he drops his finger from your lips. “We’re just gonna have to wait it out.” He turns his gaze back to you and the corner of his mouth twitches up into a smile. His eyes trail over the pair of you wrapped around each other and he raises an eyebrow as though questioning how you’ve ended up this way.
“Shut up.” You mumble, and it only causes him to smile more broadly before pulling you closer and initiating a gentle kiss. You kiss him back, your fingers trail through the hair of his broad chest and fall down to tease at the waistline of his jeans. His kisses become deeper and more desperate as your hand strokes over the denim of his jeans; you can feel him begin to harden but as your hand works the buckle of his belt he pulls your face away from his and stares at you with a look that questions what the fuck you think you’re doing. And it’s a good question, really.
“Gotta pass the time somehow.” You shrug and he smirks, laying his head back against the floor with a sigh and allowing you to place kisses over his neck as you work loose his belt.
“Fuck it, doll, you are something else.” He mutters. The sounds of the undead reverberate on the outside of the truck as you kiss over his chest and stomach. You pull open his belt and unzip his pants with ease, before slipping your hand into his dark grey boxer shorts. You hear his breath hitch slightly as your hand glides over his erection and you drag down his boxers. You move your mouth to his cock and for a moment you find yourself marvelling at his impressive size. You glance upward briefly as your hand glides over him and you notice he now has his eyes closed.
And then your tongue runs slowly from the base of his cock to the tip and you hear his breath hitch once again. You repeat the motion, fully intending to drag this out for as long as possible – and you could call it payback for the two days previous. Your tongue lingers at his head tracing shapes teasingly; and then you close your lips around him and Jesus, you try your best to take all of him but goddamn there’s a lot to take. You move your mouth slowly over him, your tongue gliding over the underside of his cock as you build up a gentle rhythm.
You close your eyes and continue moving at a slow pace and you can tell he’s becoming frustrated as his hips buck gently forward. Releasing him for a moment you notice he pulls himself up to rest on his elbows.
“Jesus-fucking-Christ, don’t you fucking, stop, now.” He demands in a furious whisper, pulling his fingers through your hair and gripping the back of your head. You do as instructed, licking at the pearl-white drops forming at the tip of his cock before taking him back into your mouth fully. And you begin to move at a faster pace; partially because you really want to make him fucking come but partially because his grip on the back of your head is forcing you to move at his pace now and not yours.
You feel his muscles begin to tense and you know he’s close to release. His hips jerk slightly and his breathing quickens. “Fuck…” He growls and if you didn’t have his cock in your mouth you’d be smirking at him right now. He begins rolling his hips in time with your movements and it’s become less about you sucking his cock and more about him fucking your mouth; somehow he’s in control of the situation and God damn if you aren’t really fucking desperate for him to be fucking something other than your mouth right now.
And then his body jerks as he attempts to silence a soft groan and you know he’s reached the point of release; he comes hard into your mouth and you gladly accept, swallowing down his come and then trailing your tongue over his length; gliding over his head and taking in every last drop.
Seemingly now satisfied, his body relaxes a little and he pulls you up toward him; and then his mouth is back on yours and your tongues clash as though he’s desperate to taste himself against you.
“Negan.” A hushed voice calls from the outside of the truck, pulling you both back to reality. As he lets you go you realize the sound of the passing herd has been replaced by silence. You gaze at the slim crack between the truck doors where sunlight is streaming onto you both. “Negan.” It’s Dwight’s voice. You roll away as Negan attempts to replace his boxers and jeans before pulling himself upright. He kicks open the back door of the truck whilst still attempting to zip the jeans. He drops down to the ground and you stand in the doorway and glance out at Dwight.
“The fuck is it?” Negan demands. Dwight doesn’t take much notice of his appearance to begin with.
“A herd passed through-”
“No fucking shit.” Negan interrupts, pulling on his belt buckle and fastening it as Laura appears from the side of the truck. Dwight glances between you and Negan momentarily.
“It’s Keno,” Dwight continues, moving his eyes back to Negan.
“Don’t know what happened to him.” Laura pauses for a moment as she takes in the sight of you still wearing Negan’s shirt and him; shirtless and fastening his belt. “He uh, he took over lookout again just before dawn. Just before the dead ones…” Her words trail.
“Shit. Fucking shit.” Negan assesses. He turns and climbs back into the truck, brushing past you and retrieving Lucille from the floor. You follow him back out of the truck. “Search the immediate area; if he’s fucking alive I want him found.” He speaks directly to Dwight as you turn around to the front of the truck.
Well, at least the dead fuckers have left your shirt in one piece. You pull Negan’s shirt off out of view of Dwight and replace your own tank top. Rounding the back of the truck again you throw Negan’s shirt at him. He catches your eye for the briefest of moments before dragging the t-shirt down over his head and swinging Lucille over his shoulder.
“Find him.” Negan’s orders are directed just as much at you as they are at Dwight and Laura. You reach back into the truck to retrieve your knife, and then head in an opposite direction to the others.
You’ve barely walked a few meters from the trucks when you hear Negan’s voice again. “Shit! Goddammit, Keno.” He’s found him. You pace back down the road toward Negan; Dwight and Laura follow closely behind you. You find Negan on his knees, ducked in an alleyway, Keno propped up against the wall in front of him.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god.” Keno is repeating the words, his head rolling back against the wall. You glance down; half his goddamn legs are missing and you can see the bone protruding what’s left of his flesh. The pricks have taken a decent sized chunk from his left arm, too; ribbons of bloodied skin hang limply from bone as he stares toward the sky.
“Shit…” Negan sighs and shakes his head. “I’m fucking sorry, Keno.” Before Keno can reply, Negan slides the knife from its sheath on his lower belt and within a second presses it firmly up and inside the back of Keno’s skull. His body goes limp and his head lolls to one side. Negan sighs and lowers his head, wiping the blade of his knife across Keno’s already bloodied shirt. You place a hand on Negan’s shoulder in some attempt at comfort but you wonder if it’s neither necessary nor appreciated.
Negan simply stands and turns away from Keno, shrugging your hand from him. “We’ve got a goddamn job to do, people. The fuck are y’all standing around for?”