Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Alexandria’s teens were playing hide n seek, none of them really knew how it got to that, Carl was pretty sure Mikey suggested it and they all just kinda went along with it.

Carl had found the perfect hiding spot. Enid was seeker this round and she was scarily good at finding people, but the dresser in his room had the shelves taken out long ago, making a perfect hiding spot incase of an attack, whether it was for him or Judith, probably both if Rick was around. Either way, there’s no way Enid would think to look in there, as long as he was quiet of course.

But Carl Grimes could never win at hide n seek. He blamed Ron Anderson.

When he was about to close the second dresser door, hearing Enid’s count almost up, he felt excited, feeling like he might actually win this game for once. Until a hand stopped him from fully closing it. Because of course it did. Not even a game of hide n seek could go right.

When the door reopened, Carl was greeted with the sight of none other than Ron Anderson. It’s not that he didn’t like him, they used to be good friends, until you know the whole attempted murder of his dad that ended up blinding him in one eye situation. Ron had apologized for it more times than he probably heard an ‘I love you’ from his dad, he was always offering to help Carl with things or do something for him. At first Carl thought it was because Ron thought he couldn’t do it himself, and that pissed him off, it pissed him off a lot.

Naturally he simply bottled up his emotions until one day it exploded, when Ron had asked if Carl wanted help carrying a bucket of water for the horses Carl just about lost his shit, trying to calmly yell at him just because he’s half blind doesn’t mean he can’t carry a damn bucket. That day he figured out it’s not that Ron thought he couldn’t do it himself, but it was just his weird — and occasionally annoying — way of trying to apologize in a way other than words, didn’t stop it from ticking off Carl on occasion though.

So no, he didn’t hate Ron, but if the blonde asked if he needed help closing the door Carl knew he would have an aneurysm right then and there.

“No! This is my spot.” he declared “Find yer’ own.”

“I tried, there’s nowhere else!”

Off in the distance he heard Enid yell out the number six. Six seconds left.

Against his better judgement he grabbed Ron’s boney, flannel covered wrist and tugged him into the dresser, barely giving them enough time for Ron to attempt to scramble on his knees and close the door with a thump as magnet clicked against its pair on the frame of the dresser.

It was completely dark inside, barely a speck of light seeping in, thankfully for Carl since he was practically legally blind his other senses had kicked up a notch, though at the moment he hated it. All he could hear was Ron’s baited breathing, nervous, unsteady, probably from the possibility of being caught. It was a kids game but part of it reminded Carl of being hunted by walkers, or worse, so a little bit of his natural adrenaline kicked in whenever he played something like this.

The dresser was cramped, uncomfortably so. There was barely enough room for Ron to keep his feet planted, Carl could only imagine what he looked like, sitting in a damn dresser squatting like a chicken about to lay an egg. If he wasn’t actively focusing on not getting caught he would have laughed a bit.

“Is now a bad time to mention i’m claustrophobic?” Ron whisper yelled, a hint of embarrassment tugging at his voice.

Carl shushed him, probably louder than Ron had even been talking.

“Yes?!” he whispered back “Why would you come in here in the first place?”

Ron was so close he could physically feel him shrug.

“Dunno, there were no more hiding places left n’ I thought I would be fine.”

This idiot.

“Good god.” was honestly all he could think of to say in that moment.

Then the silence followed, neither of them spoke for what seemed like an eternity, both just waiting for Enid and her insane hide n seeking talent to find them.

Lord knows how much time passed, all Ron and Carl knew was apparently her skills weren’t as good as they originally thought, because she seemed to take forever to find them. After a couple minutes Ron’s legs were shaking, most likely from squatting for to long. There was really only one rational idea, but would Carl be the one to suggest it? Absolutely not.

Or, apparently he would be, because the sound of Ron’s legs shaking against hardwood was far from pleasant, and if you could see the shaking from the outside they were as good as caught.

“Dude, you can just —“ he started. Before he was so rudely interrupted. Again.

“If you seriously propose I sit on your lap, I will kill you and then myself.”

Well that was an answer.

“I know you don’t like being touched to much, but you’re literally shaking like a freezing alley cat right now, at the very least just try to sit down then.”

At that, Ron stayed silent.

But at least he was moving to sit his ass down. Carl was sitting with his legs crossed, but to actually give Ron some room he spread his legs out to either side of the walls, leaving slightly more space on the ground than there was before, and Ron ended up sitting down pretty comfortably, facing Carl head on, the only reason he could even tell was the breath fanning across his face in scattered gusts.

What Carl once assumed was nervousness had turned out to be panic, based on his labored yet quick breaths and the fact he was still trembling, it seemed he was having a freak out, or a ‘panic attack’. Carl had his fair share before, they definitely weren’t a fun experience.

“God — here just — hold my hand, breath with me.” he said, reaching out and tapping blindly until he found Ron’s hand, grasping it in his own. He had completely forgotten that this was in fact all a game, and he could literally leave whenever he wanted. This was not a life or death situation. He would be perfectly fine if he left. Though, perhaps part of him made him forget, the selfish urge of wanting to keep Ron close, and offer him the comfort he actually deserved to get in life, was becoming overwhelming. Yes, he felt like shit for it, the only ‘justification’ he could even begin to think of was that Ron got himself in there knowing it would likely stress him out. So it was his own fault. Obviously.

Ron squeezed back, and after a second Carl felt him shift forward, and shaggy, uncut hair tickle the nape of his neck. Ron had laid his head on Carl’s shoulder. Ron was laying on him. And holding his hand. And breathing on his neck. Basically hugging him, honestly. Now it was Carl’s turn to freeze up.

He focused hard on not breathing to heavy, scared that if his chest rose to much Ron might think he was suffocating him or something and move, that was unfortunately the last thing Carl wanted.

Carl had no idea where to place his other hand, Ron had one draped around his torso in a weird, awkward hug, and the other hand was still holding onto Carl’s at a now awkward angle that he couldn’t bring himself to care about.

Apparently Ron Anderson did like human contact sometimes. Carl didn’t see that one coming. Absolute curveball. Not that he was complaining at all.

“You can put your hand on me y’know, I’m not gonna break or anythin.” Ron said, his breathing now more steady with a light laugh.

It was at that moment Carl realized his unplaced hand was just stuck out — as much as it could be in the small space — and hovering in the air awkwardly.

“Okay.”

It was not okay. Nothing about this situation was okay. This whole thing pushed back the brink of platonic to an entirely new level and it was making Carl go insane.

With a strange high in his chest and given permission he placed his hovering hand on the small dip of Ron’s waist, making his touch light, if the fabric of Ron’s flannel wasn’t sticking up he wouldn’t even know if he was touching him at all.

Carl literally heard Ron’s breath hitch in his throat, it wouldn’t be the first time Ron jumped into something he wasn’t actually ready for. Within a second Carl moved his hand away, scared that he was right about it being to far.

“Well why’d you do that ?” Ron asked, lifting his head up off Carl’s shoulder to (probably) look him in the eye.

Well now Carl had more questions then he could answer.

“Your breath stopped for a second, I thought you were uncomfortable, you know since you usually don’t like human contact any—“

Just like in all the movies he watched growing up that his mother loved he was cut off before he could finish his sentence by another pair of lips on his. Or near his. Because of the dark Ron’s aim was a bit off and he just barely missed kissing Carl’s nose instead.

It felt weird not closing his eyes — or eye — when they kissed, but since it was pitch black in there he didn’t see a logical reason to. Plus, if he could see, he would have killed to see Ron’s face in that moment.

Ron’s eyes however, even in the darkness were screwed together so tight his eyelashes bout ripped off with every small moment of his eyes underneath. Even when he pulled back it took a second for them to come undone, afraid of some random light suddenly making him able to see Carl’s face, and he didn’t know if he could do that. Not yet, anyway. To afraid of the anger, disgust, revolt, anything that could radiate with those scary blue eyes.

Carl was ready, though. More than ready. He wanted to see Ron so bad it might as well have been killing him, eating him from the inside out.

Carl could feel Ron squirm against him, like a worm in a bucket trying to find any possible way out. Blonde hair and pale skin collided with the back of the dresser — or technically the side from a regular point of view — from Ron’s struggling, making him let out to loud of a groan when his head collided with the thick wood.

“Oh shit man, are you okay?” Carl asked, eyebrows furrowing towards the center of his face.

He didn’t want to reach out, both for the fact he knew it would be hard to find Ron in the dark without accidentally poking his eye out and because Ron already seemed stressed enough, the last thing he probably needed was hands coming out of nowhere and grabbing at him. But Carl didn’t really know how else to even begin to try and comfort him, he had always been told he was good at comforting people, or awful at it depending on the person you ask. He was mostly only good at physically comforting people, long hugs or an arm around a shoulder, words were never something he was to good at, so currently Carl Grimes was at a loss.

A strained “mhm” was all he got in reply, followed by a sharp hissing sound of pain.

“Hit a damn nail.” Ron said, very obviously fake laughing. Probably to try and raise the mood, so Carl felt inclined to giggle along with him for a second, no matter how forced both of them sounded.

The universe must have decided to bless Carl — and curse Ron — because at that moment the two front doors of the dresser opened, they had been found, both boys forgetting they were supposed to be quiet so they didn’t get hunted down by the fearsome hunter known as Enid.

“You two are loud as hell.” she ‘complained’ standing in front of the dresser with a hand on her hip, the other one dangling next to her leg.

“Yeah, it was getting pretty boring, you know with you not being able to find us n’ all. Had to start giving you hints at some point.” Ron shot back cockily, a tiny but noticeable shit-eating grin on his face as he climbed out of the dresser.

“Oh please, quit it with the savior complex, Ronnie.” her words sounded harsh, but the smile she wore told otherwise.

He just laughed and brushed off his pants, not even daring to look in Carl’s direction it seemed.

Chapter Text

Ron basically avoided Carl the rest of the day, which sucked because their friend group had agreed to take a day off from chores n whatnot literally just to spend with each other.

When the sky finally began to dim, Mikey — once again with his amazing ideas — decided to have them all watch a movie. It was a DVD of one of the random movies they found leftover at a Walmart during a run called ‘Malibu’s Most Wanted’ it was the first movie they ever all watched together, and Mikey was a sap, so of course he would pick that one.

Mikey had half the couch, Carl occupied the other half, Ron sat on the floor next to Enid who was sitting on the carpet in front of where Carl’s half of the couch was. Carl always hated when people talked during movies, it was arguably one of his biggest pet peeves. Guess what Enid and Ron did for the entire movie? Sit in front of Carl and whisper and giggle to each other. Usually all it did was make Carl mad, but given the fact Ron had been ignoring him all damn day after kissing him — without warning, mind you — yeah, it definetly pissed him off a bit more than it would have usually.

All he wanted to do was talk to him, why did Ron have to make it so damn difficult?

“I’m going to use the bathroom.” he announced, standing up from his spot on the couch and stepping over Ron and Enid, shuffling to the other side of the game room? Office? Whatever room it was, to the white door that lead to the bathroom.

Did he actually have to use the bathroom? No. Not even slightly. He just couldn’t listen to their giggles anymore.

Careful not to make any noise he leaned against the other side of the white door, clicking the lock softly before sliding down to the floor, letting out a quiet, strained groan that faded into a defeated sigh.

“So? You gonna tell me what’s going on with you two?”

He heard Enid’s voice just barely through the wood of the door, accompanied by the still playing movie and Mikey’s snores. Because even though a movie was his idea he managed to fall asleep first. As always.

“Shhh!!”

Ron’s voice this time.

“He could hear you! He’s literally just behind that door!!”

Ron was not a very good whisper yeller. Though Carl had to admit he was thankful for it now, he was intrigued.

“Dude he’s probably taking the fattest piss of his life, he doesn’t care, plus I doubt he could hear us from in there anyway, you know he doesn’t wear ear plugs when he practices shooting.”

Ouch. She wasn’t necessarily wrong, he hated the way they felt in his ears. But ouch.

Carl could only guess Ron was doing his stereotypical angsty emo edgy teenager stare at her. His theory only proven when Enid spoke again.

“Don’t you glare at me like that, Anderson — you know I’m right.”

She definitely wasn’t wrong, it probably was something short of a miracle that he could hear them anyway.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“What question?”

“What the hell is going on between you two?”

“I haven’t a clue what you mean.”

Bullshit.

“Bullshit Blondie, you’ve been avoiding him like he’s infected all damn day since we played hide n seek.”

Once again, Enid Rhee is scary good at reading people.

“No I haven’t, I think you’re losing it.”

“Fine, be that way then.” Enid exclaimed with an exasperated sigh.

Damn shame to, Carl was actually interested in hearing what exactly the hell Ron was going to tell her. Guess it was the same thing he’s told Carl all day — absolutely nothing.

“We kissed, okay? There, you happy? Nosy ass.”

Holy fuck. He actually said it.

“I knew it!” Enid squealed.

“Shhh!! Shut up! He really will hear you if you keep squealing like a damn rabid pig!”

“Sorry, guess I’m just happy I don’t have to deal with your guy’s annoying ass pining anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“First of all — Ron Anderson does not ‘pine’ after anybody, second of all, how in the hell did you know?”

“First of all — yes, yes you do pine, second of all, I know because it’s so extremely embarrassingly obvious.”

“Does Mikey know to?!”

“Nah, he’s to dense for that, and Carl isn’t that easy to read either, only reason I could tell he liked you is cause I know him pretty well.”

He wanted to say ‘damn Enid thanks for just outing my feelings’ but he did kind of kiss Ron in a dresser, so there wasn’t really much to be exposed about his feelings.

“Wait back up — he likes me?”

“Dude, I know your oblivious to shit like this, but you might actually be worse than Mikey. You’re supposed to be his ‘best friend’ I thought you of all people would have gathered that by now.”

“No? You literally just said he’s hard to read, he’s like a rock sometimes.”

“Yeah but dude, think about it, he always wants to be near you, laughs at your stupid and very unfunny jokes, listens to what you have to say no matter how dumb it is, lends you his favorite comics, need I go on? Or do you get the message?”

God damn. Carl didn’t think he was that obvious. Enid scared him sometimes.

Ron didn’t respond, of course. He never really was good about talking about emotions.

“Where is that cyclops anyway?”

Always trying to change the subject, thank you Ron.

“Maybe I was wrong about the piss part, he might be taking the fattest shit of his life instead.”

Ron just laughed. He laughed. God did Carl love that sound. It made him sick in the best way possible.

He stood up from the nasty bathroom floor, clicking open the lock and swinging the door open.

“I am not taking a shit, thank you.” he remarked, a sass filled tone as he plopped back down on his end of the couch, briefly stirring Mikey before he fell back asleep like a baby.

“I fucking told you he could hear you!” Ron, again, suckily whisper yelled at Enid, slapping her arm lightly while she giggled a bit.

Carl, pretending like he couldn’t hear their conversation now that they were all of two feet away, felt his cheeks lighting damn near on fire as he remembered Ron admitting that he liked him. Ron Anderson liked him. Carl knew he could force down the smile that came onto his face, but if anything he could blame it on the funny movie.  Ron Anderson fucking liked him. He wanted to run down the streets and scream it, scream it until a thousand walkers surrounded him because with the amount of adrenaline he had pumping through his veins he could probably kill them all by himself. Well, he definitely couldn’t, but he chooses to believe that he would stand a chance for that moment.

The movie was almost over — maybe twenty minutes max remaining when Enid stood up.

“I’m gonna go grab some apple juice, want anything?” she asked, shifting her hand in between them as she walked towards the door. “No? Okay.”

Damn. And he wanted a water to. Or vodka, either works honestly.

It took a second for him to realize. He was now alone. In a room. With Ron. For the first time since they kissed. And after Ron admitted his feelings. Not to him of course, but the fact he knew made the tension rise that much more.

Sure, Mikey was there, but Mikey was asleep. Which basically left them all alone.

Carl paused the movie for Enid, awkwardly fidgeting with the remote and exaggeratively blowing air from his lungs.

“So…” he said.

“..So..” Ron answered back after a second.

“You like me, huh?” straight to the point. Carl was tired of beating around the bush, he would and couldn’t play this back and forth game anymore.

Ron nearly choked on air when he heard that, he coughed about three times before he seemed to regain his breath.

“What?! Who told you that?” he asked over his shoulder, eyes blown wide with an emotion Carl recognized as fear.

“You, technically.” he replied with a small shrug “You were right, I could hear you in the bathroom.”

Ron just swallowed thickly, eyes darting every which way around the room.

“It’s okay, y’know..”

Wow Carl, what a great way to start a confession.

“I uh, I mean — yes it’s okay, more than okay — but I don’t mean that as in like a ‘oh it’s okay if you like me you’ll get over it we can still be friends’ kinda way, I mean it as in the ‘hey I like you too’ kinda way.”

God he needed to shut up. He really needed to shut up.

Ron just looked at him, seemingly absolutely stunned judging by the fact his jaw was practically dangling on the floor.

“ What?”

“I said I liked you t-“

“Nono I heard you, I’m just so fuckin’ confused.”

“What’s there to be confused about? I did kiss you, didn’t I? I thought that said at least something.” he said with a small laugh.

“Yeah I mean — I guess so..” Ron spoke softly, fidgeting with the end of his flannel and looking down into his lap, like he was afraid to look anywhere else but the floor.

And of course, more awkward silence. Partly because Carl couldn’t think of what exactly he wanted to say in this situation and also because he wanted to see if Ron would eventually say something. Anything, really. Anything would have been better than the unbearable silence, only slightly filled by a slowly falling apart AC unit that sounded like it was shaking — definetly not concerning at all — and Mikey’s eternal snoring.

“Can I kiss you?” Carl asked “Correctly, this time.”

Ron went back to looking around the room nervously, eyes settling on the open door Enid had just left through.

“What if she comes back?”

Carl genuinely had to laugh a little bit at that.

“Dude, she just squealed like a squirrel after you steal its nut when she found out we kissed before, I don’t think she would care even if she did walk in.”

Ron shrugged, looking back down at his flannel again. “Guess so..” he repeated again.

“Hey — but if you don’t want to just know I am completely fine with that, I would never force you to do some..” and then Ron stood up, slowly moving onto the couch next to Carl as he spoke “some-something you don’t wanna..” his voice faded out, getting quieter and quieter as Ron got closer and closer until he was completely shut up, once again, by chapped lips on his own.

As if on reflex — one he didn’t even know he had — he brought his hands up to Ron’s waist, not grabbing necessarily, but just resting his hands there, fingers barely curling around taut skin shielded with fabric.

Ron on the other hand seemed to have gained at least a slight bit of confidence, because his hands were cupped around Carl’s face now, cradling his cheeks and stroking his cheekbone with a calloused thumb as he tilted his head farther to the side, kissing him like he wanted to eat him alive.

Everything and everyone else was forgotten in that moment. For that period of time the only thing that existed to them was each other, and that ratty old couch they sat on. Accompanied by a somehow still sleeping Mikey of course.

Carl took a hasty yet hesitant opportunity to firmly grasp Ron’s waist, guiding him forward to sit on his lap, or at least as close to that as Ron would probably allow.

To Carl’s complete and utter shock, Ron leaned into the touch — very unusual for him. Just the thought that Carl was the only person Ron was okay with being touched by made the butterflies already swarming in his stomach full on explode. Was it selfish? Yes. Did he absolutely relish in it? Also yes.

Ron seemed to hover over Carl’s lap for a minute — maybe afraid of actually putting his weight down for fear of crushing him. Even though Carl was easily stronger than Ron. Very easily in fact.

Using the hands he had on the blonde’s waist he gently pulled him down, his own special way of saying ‘hey it’s okay you won’t hurt me’ without saying it out loud, because if it wasn’t already completely awkward enough to pull somebody onto you. Or would if he read it wrong and Ron was hovering because he was uncomfortable or something? Then he would just seem like a dickhead.

Thankfully, though, Ron got the hint — and unknowingly reassured Carl he wasn’t just being an ass — and leaned down on him. Usually Carl didn’t like any sort of feeling of being trapped or pinned down, but Ron’s weight on him was weirdly comforting, even more so when their torsos lined up and Carl could feel and hear his rapid heartbeat.

He was so head over heels it wasn’t even funny anymore.

Both of them had thought Mikey waking up would have been what startled them, but honestly they should have known better. Enid walked in a couple minutes later, saw them basically biting each others faces off, and practically lost her shit, and that is what ended up waking Mikey up.

They were both embarrassed beyond belief. But hey, at least it wasn’t Michonne or Rick that walked in. Then Carl would have just died right then and there.

The next couple weeks Carl was the happiest he thinks he’s ever been. He got to kiss and hold Ron — his now boyfriend — as much as he wanted whenever he wanted.

Thank god for hide n seek.