Ignoring the looks he was getting from the passers-by, the guards, and the gatekeepers, Negan stood at Alexandria's gate and anxiously looked out, waiting. It had been six years since the war, and two years since his release from his cell, and still people didn't trust him. He supposed that time couldn't heal all wounds, or maybe these people just needed more time, but Rick hadn't needed it. It took Rick a little over a year to fall in love with him, but it took him forever to admit it. Even when he was in love with him, though, he had kept him in the cell because that's what everyone wanted (well, they had wanted him dead, but that was the happy compromise). Now, though, now Negan was free.
Well.
Almost free.
He was waiting for Rick to come home from the herd redirection he had volunteered for. Negan had wanted to go with him to help – and to protect Rick, who was only getting older and whose bad leg wasn't doing him any favors. But Rick said no. The deal was that Negan could never leave Alexandria. If he stepped foot outside, anybody was allowed to kill him. Maggie had been adamant about that, even if it meant Negan's death hurting Rick. So, Rick agreed to Maggie's terms, and for Negan that just meant he got a larger cell and he slept in Rick's bed instead of by himself.
It started raining again, and Negan hunched his shoulders but didn't move. Above him, he could hear the gatekeepers under their patio umbrella snickering and muttering jeers loud enough where it was clear they didn't care if he overheard.
"Bet you Rick's guard dog is gonna smell like shit from sitting out here in the rain."
"Rick's bitch, more like. And I'm not taking that bet. He already stinks now from rolling around in that tomato patch."
"Why didn't Rick just kill him?"
"Beats me."
"Christ, look at him. He's pitiful. Sitting there waiting. Useless."
"The day Rick doesn't come back, he dies."
"I bet he'll try to leave before then."
"And I'll be waiting – and it'll be my arrow catching him in the back."
Negan finally tuned them out, resisting the urge to wrap his hands around the bars so that he wouldn't tempt the lingering dead ones. The rain confused them and sent them in circles, unable to distinguish human scent or see past the movement of raindrops or the splashes over their own feet. But he looked past the dead for the living, squinting into the rising fog as the sun started to dip below the horizon. He was worried about Rick because this rain and the horse hooves were going to stir up a lot of mud. Rick's cane wouldn't be able to navigate through that very well. Wrapping his arms around himself, he tried not to shiver. Carl and Judith were at home, eating the dinner he made, but Negan had to be here. He had to.
Over the sound of the rain, Negan heard the clip-clop of the horses in the distance. He perked up and stepped closer to the gate. The gatekeepers called out, "They're back!" Then they started banging on the walls, leading the walkers at the gate away so that the horses could ride through without startling. Negan pulled the gate open to help and smiled when he caught side of Rick riding at the helm with Michonne, Rosita, Aaron, and Jesus on his tail. Rick caught sight of him as he passed, and he flashed him a smile, too, as they continued on their way to the stables. Knowing that everything was fine, Negan close the barred gate, and then the additional metal gate behind that before he started off towards the stables, following the trail of flung-up mud.
When he got there, the others were leaving the stables after rubbing down their horses. Rosita and Tara were hand in hand, and Negan figured that Tara must've been waiting here out of the rain for her girlfriend. Aaron and Jesus also left together for Aaron's house and Negan expected it wouldn't be another few days before Jesus would go back to the Hilltop. When Michonne left, she was the only one who inclined her head in acknowledgement to Negan. For him it was nice to know that she didn't see him as the other woman. Finally, Negan went to Buttons' stall to find Rick rubbing Buttons down thoroughly.
Coming up behind Rick, Negan wrapped his arms low around his middle, pressing against the length of his back regardless of how sodden they both were. Resting his chin on the shorter man's shoulder, Negan tucked his nose where Rick's shoulder met his neck and breathed in the scent of Rick's sweat over the smell of rain and the stench of horses. "Howdy, cowboy." He gently pecked a kiss to Rick's slick skin. "How was your rodeo?"
Rick leaned back against Negan's touch in a show of affection as he continued rhythmically running his brush over Buttons' gleaning, healthy brown coat. "It went well. Led them down to a valley and there ended up bein' a mudslide. Buried the whole herd like it was nothin'."
Gently swaying them side to side, Negan pressed more kisses up Rick's neck to the side of his bearded jaw. "That's good, darlin', that's good." Negan's hands started to move, pressing over Rick's stomach and sides and up to his chest. None of this was out of lust – well, at least not purely driven out of lust. They were both a little older, greyer in their beards than they cared to admit. The novelty of being together had worn off, but the desperation, the fear of losing each other never left. So as Negan ran his hands over Rick's ticklish sides searching for bites, Rick bit back a small laugh.
"We ain't fucking in this stall, Negan. It smells like horseshit."
"Calm the hell down, cowboy. I'm not feeling you up for a quick fuck." Gently, Negan caught Rick's hands and turned him around in his arms. "I want to spend all night with you, baby."
Rick peered up at him, searched his face, and after so many years he could tell when Negan was bothered. "Is somethin' wrong?"
"No." And really, nothing was wrong now. Rick would've told him if something was wrong. "I just want to get you home and get you fucking naked."
Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Rick snorted, "I take it you didn't want Buttons to watch us either?" Hand in hand, they left the stalls, leaving the horses to their oats and hay.
"Can you fucking blame me? His size is a little intimidating, Rick." Negan jostled his shoulder against Rick's, and then immediately had to catch Rick by the waist to keep him from falling when his knee buckled and gave out from under him. "You okay there, Rick?"
"Just a little sore from ridin'," Rick wheezed and slowly straightened his spine again as he kept his weight off his bad leg.
"I guess that means I have to do the fucking riding tonight, huh, darlin'?"
Laughing, Rick sputtered through the raindrops running down his face, "Yes, you will, Negan."
Even though both of them wanted to be home, they took a minute to wait for Rick to get steady again. Huddle together as they were, they weren't that cold, and since the sun was gone, they knew nobody would be watching. "You want me to give you a fucking piggyback, Papaw, or are you good now?"
"Please, you haven't even given Judith a piggyback ride in years now." Stubbornly, Rick continued limping along, supported by his cane and Negan. "How are the kids?"
"They're fine. Carl goes to the Hilltop at the end of the week with Jesus, and Judith's teacher says she's doing just fine."
"They eat dinner yet?"
"Yes, I made meatloaf."
Rick's head whipped around so fast he flicked water into Negan's ear and he jerked in surprise. "You hate meatloaf," Rick accused.
Shaking his head, Negan sighed, "But you fucking love that shit."
In lieu of answering, Rick squeezed Negan's hip a little tighter in gratitude and something else, and Negan knew what it meant.
When they made it back to the house, Carl and Judith were waiting up for them with towels to dry Rick and Negan off. Their muddy boots were left on the porch, and Rick and Negan ate their dinner while they listened to Carl and Judith talk about their day. Judith was probably close to ten years old now, by Rick's approximation and she was animatedly talking about when she would be allowed to ride with Rick on herd directions.
"Soon, Judy, I promise," Rick said around his sip of water, and though he tried to give Judith a reassuring smile, Negan saw the worry lines crease around his eyes.
"Can Papa go with us?" Judith asked, and again while Negan was so thankful that she grew up seeing a different side of him, he knew that what he had done will never leave him.
"Now, Jude, if I do that then who's gonna prune my rosebushes and pick tomatoes?" Negan answered for Rick, and Judith just smiled and asked for another flower for her room.
Carl gently interrupted. "Hey, Dad?"
Rick turned his soft eyes to his son with pride and fondness. "Yes?"
"How did..." Carl twisted his fingers anxiously, eyes flickering over to Negan. "How did you ask Mom to marry you?"
"I…" For only a moment, Rick was at a loss for words. "I didn't spring it on her. We talked about it all the time."
"Enid knows," Carl assures Rick. "She knows, and we've even talked about how she would come back to Alexandria. We want to build a house here."
"In suburbia? Out from under the Wicked Witch? Good choice," Negan blithely added, pretending to be focused on slathering his yeast roll with goat butter.
Used to Negan's comments, Carl ignored him, his one eye focused on Rick. Slowly, Rick recalled, "I remember that in high school all we could talk about was getting' a house together. I was goin' to go to the academy, and she wanted to open up a crafts shop. You remember Miss Lisa, right?"
"Yeah, that was Mom's friend."
"She was her Maid of Honor at our weddin'." Rick smiled at the memory.
"What's a Maid of Honor?" Judith asked, looking back and forth between her father and her brother. Whenever they talked about Lori – which wasn't often – Judith always had a lost look on her face, but not one of sorrow. To her, Michonne was Momma, and Negan was Papa, and Rick was Daddy, and that's all she's ever known and she was happy with that.
They talked further into the night, explaining how a wedding worked to Judith. Carl, who was only a boy when the world ended, had a few questions of his own, too. There hadn't been any weddings in Alexandria for a few years now – not since Judith was still a toddler and didn't know what was going on. The Sanctuary had a string of marriages, after Negan was gone, which was ironic to him, but he wasn't surprised ("Of course they wait until I can't offer protection to do that shit. Mark and Amber right? Frankie and Tanya, too? Fucking A.") The most recent wedding had been at the Kingdom that Father Gabriel had officiated, but since Rick didn't know the happy couple, he hadn't gone and Judith never knew about it.
Eventually, they made it back around to Carl's question. "It wasn't the most romantic proposal," Rick admitted, his foot propped in a chair to relieve the ache in his knee. When it rained, his joints particularly ached. "Me and Shane had just graduated from the academy, and I was wearin' my uniform home from my day at work. The ring cost a month's paycheck, and we'd picked out together, but once I finally paid for it, I picked it up on the way home and I knocked on the front door. When she opened it, she had flour on her nose, and instead of waiting until after dinner like I wanted to, I just asked her right then." He laughed, staring off into the middle distance. "She was so angry at me for not doing somethin' special instead, but I couldn't wait any longer."
"What would you have done instead?"
"I was gonna put it in a glass of champagne that I would've brought out after dinner with the cake I picked out from the bakery at Winn Dixie." The tips of Rick's ears turned pink in embarrassment. "The cake would've asked the question."
Carl half-smiled. "Well, I'm not sure I could do that unless I ask Negan to bake a cake."
"I'm not gonna do it because you haven't even asked me how I proposed!" Negan's voice was soft with Judith asleep in his lap as she curled into his chest. She might've been almost ten-years-old, but she always had a soft spot for Negan, even when he was in the cell.
"How did you ask Lucille?" Carl asked, "And not Frankie, Tanya, Amber, the rest."
"I was romantic as fuck with them, too, kid. There was a formality about it." At Rick's disapproving look and Carl's lack of amusement, Negan sighed and shifted in his chair at the kitchen table, careful not to wake Judith up. "Lucille and I were a lot like your daddy and your mom. We talked about getting married for ages, and we were already living in an apartment together – 'living in sin,' her daddy called it. Everyone on her side of the family pushed for us to go ahead and get married so we would be right in the eyes of the Lord, or what the fuck ever, but there was a line to get married because Lucille had fifteen girl cousins and each one had a month picked out that they were getting married in.
"But, we picked out the ring together, and one night I took her to dinner – and I said, 'Lucille,'" Negan paused, and licked his lips. He was going to go for a joke, but the only one who would've laughed at it would've been Judith and she was asleep. Instead, he told the truth, "I…I wore the ring on my damn pinkie at dinner, and when I got on my knees, I gave her an empty box – and she just laughed at it before she immediately pounced on my fucking hand to get the real ring. It had been sparkling all night, fucking teasing her. Lucille thought it was funny."
"What about you and Daddy?" Judith asked, raising her head from Negan's chest. Her eyes were half-lidden and hair mussed with sleep, but she had that determined look on her face where she clearly wanted an answer.
Across the table, Rick and Negan's eyes connected. "I…" Rick trailed off.
Negan just shrugged. "I don't know. People don't have to be married anymore, Jude, to be together. The world is different now."
Pillowing her head back on her chest, Judith mumbled, "I think you should get married so you don't live in sin."
With a snort, Negan stood, holding Judith on his hip with a little bit of a strain – he was probably pushing sixty after all. "Of all the things you pick up on, you're gonna be like a damn dog with a bone with that."
Chuckling under his breath, Rick stood from the table, too, while Carl cleared away the dishes, going to the sink to wash them by hand. "Alright, Judy. It's bedtime. You, too, Carl. We're gonna check on some huntin' snares tomorrow with Daryl." Rick gave Judith a kiss goodnight on her forehead while Negan carried her up to her bed.
As he left the kitchen, Negan heard Rick quietly say, "Tomorrow we'll go out there and find a jewelry shop…I'm so proud of you, Carl."
After Negan tucked Judith into bed, being sure to give her Mr. Sunshine the raggedy old lion stuffed animal that's mane was balding to say the least, he went to the bedroom he shared with Rick to ready up for the night. Negan heard Rick before he saw him, the irregular rhythm of his steps and his low words exchanged with Carl for goodnight, and the tap of his cane against the hardwood floors as he stopped by Judith's room to check on her one last time. Sitting at the edge of their bed, Negan waited, and then Rick turned the corner and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a soft click.
"It's been a long day, cowboy," Negan drawled and quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. "Ready to hit the fucking hay?"
Padding over to the bathroom, relying more and more on his cane as he walked, Rick wryly said, "Negan, we're living in sin. I can't do that with you anymore."
With an exasperated sigh, Negan passed a hand over his tired eyes. "You and Judith are gonna keep giving me that shit, huh?"
"She's like a sponge, Negan," Rick teased and gave him a wink before he focused on the mirror to brush his teeth.
Grumbling to himself, Negan climbed in on his side of the bed, leaning against the headboard as he waited for Rick. Once Rick exited the bathroom, he headed to the dresser, stripping off his clothes and changing into a soft cotton shirt and a fresh pair of boxers. Negan watched with covetous eyes, and then suddenly blurted out, "Marry me?"
Supporting himself with a hand on the dresser and with his powder blue boxers around his knees as he stepped into them – bare ass pointed in Negan's direction – Rick slowly looked over his shoulder. "Seriously? After everythin' we just talked about with tryin' to be romantic and you're gonna ask me now?"
Despite himself, Negan dissolved into giggles and Rick took that time to finish dressing. "Rick, darlin', I can't help it. You had such a tempting ass, I just had to propose – that way we aren't living in sin when I fuck you." He finished it off with a smile, spreading out his arms to welcome Rick into bed as he climbed in beside Negan, a little ginger with his bad leg.
Under his breath, Rick mumbled, "I'm surprised you could see that good, considerin'." He switched off his bed lamp and Negan followed suit before they curled on their sides, facing each other in the dark, familiar with the outline of the other's face by memory.
"Considering what?" Negan indignantly asked, a little too loud in the dark before he hushed himself, "What are you talking about, Grimes?"
He sensed before he felt Rick's hand stroke over his beard and up to cup his cheek. He felt Rick's breath, smelled the lingering odd scent of baking soda, before he was gently, sweetly kissed. "Considerin'," Rick sighed into his face, "that I think your eyes are goin'."
Negan frowned. He hadn't want to admit it, but he could tell that his eyes were getting a little worse. He'd always been near-sighted, but he hated wearing his glasses, so he tried to compensate by leaning in close for intimidation and seduction or holding things close to his face like when he examined his tomatoes for bug damage. Too proud to admit it, he had tried to keep it secret, but of course, Rick would notice that. "Good thing I'm not on fucking herd redirection duty, then, huh darlin'?"
"Honey," Rick breathed, and though his tone was sympathetic, it didn't bother Negan at all. "Honey, I'm sorry, but you know the rules. I don't want – I can't risk losin' you."
"I know." Negan shuffled closer under the blankets, wrapping his arms around Rick and folding him into his chest in a mirror pose to what Judith did at dinner. "It's hard knowing you have to go out there and fucking lead – but both of us were meant to lead, darlin', and it's hard to let go of that shit for us."
Rick's beard tickled against Negan's chest when he talked. "It's better this way, honey."
Stroking his hands up and down Rick's back, Negan pushed his t-shirt up and slipped his hand under, massaging the kinks he knew Rick got from spending too long on a horse. "Does this mean you'll finally fucking marry me, Rick?"
"I thought we were already married," Rick confessed. "You're livin' in my house, raisin' my children. You're my husband." Tilting his head up, he caught Negan's mouth in another kiss. "Mr. Negan Grimes."
"You're too good to me, Rick." Negan pressed a kiss into Rick's short hair, and the bristles tickled at the edges of his nostrils as he pressed his face further against him like a cat begging for a pet. "Too good, baby."
Rick's fingertips pressed in the spaces between Negan's spine and his shoulder blades, taking away the gardening pains from being hunched over for too long. Working their fingers to the bone kept the arthritis away, but any day now it could be something else. Carpal Tunnel. A fracture from a fall. A sprain. Losing a hand to a bite.
Even a walk in the rain like they had meant the possibility to catch pneumonia. It was like Hershel said so long ago – every day you risked your life now.
The only thing you can choose is what you're risking it for.
Rick pushed those thoughts away as his mind drifted to his ever-expanding family, how the world was rebuilt and theirs again. With that in mind, he filled his hands with Negan's beard as he grabbed his face again for another kiss goodnight. "I love you, honey."
"Love you, too, Rick."
