Chapter 1
It was a mid-September afternoon, all crisp air and dying sunlight speckling the ground through gaps in the leafy overhang of the trees sheltering the sidewalk, the last of autumn’s leaves clinging to their branches like children unwilling to be parted from doting parents.
And that’s just what Rick Grimes was, too: a doting parent, single father to a surprisingly well-mannered teenage boy named Carl, and a feisty little toddler named Judith. A doting parent out on his own, looking to rebuild his life after it had crumbled away beneath him after his wife’s untimely death last year. The whole story came tumbling from Rick’s sinfully full lips in under two minutes right there on the sidewalk in front of his new house with the Sold! a sign still picketed in the front lawn and the empty U-Haul truck parked out front. When he was done, his cheeks were an intriguing shade of rosy pink, the color suiting him so fucking perfectly that Negan had a hard time not reaching out to skim a finger over the heated skin, see how much deeper the color could turn.
“Hell, I’m sorry. I never was good at small talk. Guess that’s not a great way to get to know the new neighbors, huh?” Rick chuckled ruefully and ducked his head almost shyly, blue eyes glinting with playful mirth. “You wanna start over? I’m Rick. Nice to meet you.”
His voice- goddamn that voice, Negan thought. Rick had already told him where he and his children had moved up from- “King County Georgia, where nothing’ much ever happens''- but his accent would have betrayed his southern heritage even without his admission. Thick and sweet as honey dripped from his lips, and Negan craved a taste.
He composed himself, though- not a great way to get to know the new neighbors, as Rick had said. Instead, he held out a hand, taking Rick’s with gratefulness that surpassed the gesture. It was only a handshake, after all. But it was skin on skin, all cold-nipped fingertips and palms warm with the nervousness that came from meeting someone new.
“Good to fucking meet you, Rick. I’m Negan. And darlin’- don’t worry about spilling like that to me. We’ve all got our stories, all got shit to get over. I’m glad you thought I was worth telling it to.” He gave Rick his most winsome smile, all roguish charm, and dimples, and the man relaxed visibly, tense shoulders lowering beneath the cozy blue of his button-up, the worried crease between his startlingly crystal eyes smoothing out. There you go, honey, Negan thought, no need to be a nervous little deer around me.
Rick smiled, and it left Negan breathless. He decided then and there that Rick Grimes’ smile was something he would never tire of. It made the corners of his eyes crinkle in the most endearing way, his eyes lighting up. He fucking glowed.
“I appreciate it. Guess I’m just not used to talking to people my age anymore aside from my realtor. Been spending’ a lot of time with Judith and Carl.” He nodded back to the house that his children had already disappeared into- eager to see their new digs, no doubt.
Negan suppressed a smile at that- not used to talking to people his age…gotta be single- forcing his face into a look of neutral concern. “Aw, Rick. You're telling me you don’t have people helping you out right now? Je-sus, sweet southern gentleman like yourself, I’d think you’d have friends linin’ up down the street to bring you casseroles and lending shoulders to cry on.”
A tender ache of sadness surfaced in Rick’s eyes, and Negan immediately wanted to chase it away. “Nah. Never been the best as small talk, like I said. I had a few friends down in Georgia, but I pushed a lot of people away after Lori passed. I was in a really bad place for a long time, and by the time I managed to claw my way out of it, I looked around and realized that I’d isolated myself from all the people that had tried to help me. Figuring a new beginning was what I needed. The kids, too. Carl had been havin’ some problems at school, getting’ into fights and- shit, I’m doin’ it again,” Rick shook his head with a frown. “I’m not looking for sympathy here. I guess I just needed to get this off my chest more than I realized.”
Negan chanced a casual touch, one hand reaching out to rest on Rick’s shoulder. He gave it a friendly squeeze and felt the strength of the muscle there, hunger growing as he pondered what Rick would look like stripped of his tidy clothes. “Hey, none of that shit, Rick. What did I just say? I don’t fucking mind. It’s a damn shame that you’re all alone right now. I’m more than happy to listen.”
Rick smiled again, and after a long beat, Negan forced his hand to drop. “Tell you what, Rick. I’m gonna come by again tonight, alright? Bring you a damn casserole, feed you and the kiddos real good, like you deserve. Maybe a little somethin’ extra for the two of us, huh? What’s your poison?” He looked Rick up and down shamelessly and noted with great satisfaction how Rick squirmed a little under his scrutiny. “You seem like a whiskey man, am I right, or am I right? I’ve got this really nice bottle of Irish whiskey I’ve been waitin’ for a special occasion to break out, and this seems as good a night as any.”
Rick shook his head, and Negan felt his grin slip. What? Why the fuck not? Haven’t I been the perfect fucking welcome wagon here-
“That's the real kind of you, Negan, and I appreciate it more than I can say, but I can’t tonight. I promised Carl and Judith it’d be a family night, just the three of us. Carl’s not about to admit it to me, but he’s pretty damn nervous about starting’ at a new school halfway through the semester.” He gave Negan an small, apologetic smile, and Negan willed himself to let it go, running a hand through his slicked-back hair and tossing out a shrug that was much more casual and cavalier than he felt.
“Of course, Rick! You go nest up with your kids, I understand.”
Rick looked relieved, like he thought that Negan would be upset and was deeply happy that he hadn’t offended the one person he’d spoken to since his move. “That does sound nice, though. It's really nice. And I’m sure Carl and Judith would appreciate someone else cookin’ for a change. I’m just about useless in the kitchen. Maybe over the weekend?” he asked, sounding hopeful. “You had me pegged- I am a whiskey man. It’d be nice to sit down and share a drink with someone. God knows I haven’t done that in a long time.”
Yes. Yes, yes. “Fuckin’ A, Rick! Sounds like a hell of a good way to kick off my weekend. Here,” he said, holding out one hand, “give me your phone. I’ll put my number in so you can get a hold of me- I know I’m right next door, but I’ve got a feeling you’ll be needing it. You and me, Rick. We’re gonna be good fucking friends, I can already tell.”
Rick handed over his phone without question, and a dark, hungry part of Negan preened at the unspoken obedience. Negan pressed the button and a passcode popped up- of course.
“Oh, here, one sec-” Rick’s fingers brushed Negan’s as he took the phone back, and he was nearly so distracted by the touch that he missed Rick tapping out the code- nearly.
4-2-1-0. Good to know.
Rick slid the phone back into Negan’s hand and Negan tapped the screen, bringing up the contact page, briefly glimpsing his starred contacts before adding his own number to the list- Carl, Judith's Preschool, Carl's School, Realtor, Lori-
“You still have your wife’s number in here, Rick?” He asked, suspicion running wild through his mind. He’s still married, his wife isn’t actually dead, liar, liar, fucking liar-
His accusations were immediately quelled by the sadness marring Rick’s pretty face. “Yeah. I’ve thought about deleting it a hundred times. I just…can’t bring myself to do it.” He swallowed hard, missing the way Negan’s eyes caught on his bobbing throat. “I used to call her sometimes. Used to…hell, there I go again.” He smiled sheepishly, tucking his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. “I know you said you don’t mind, but you don’t need to hear about all that today. Maybe some other time.”
“Maybe over a glass or two of whiskey,” Negan agreed.
