Rick wakes up to sandpaper kisses on the nape of his neck. He hums a happy, half-asleep noise in his throat, and Negan's mouth climbs up to his ear and murmurs, "Wake up."
This should be the moment Rick wakes up for real and instead of Negan beside him it's Lori, alive and well, and he would tell her about this crazy dream he had where she was dead and he fell for Carl's high-school baseball coach, and they would both laugh about it and nothing would hurt.
Instead, this is his life, and Rick finds he could get used to this, even the ache in his thighs that reminds him of what they did last night.
"C'mon," Negan whines, his hand venturing under Rick's t-shirt. "Wake the fuck up, Grimes."
Rick glances at the clock. It's still early, a little while before he'd rouse Carl for school.
"I'm up," Rick mumbles, covering Negan's hand with his own. He nudges his hips into Negan's own, feels the insistent bulge there. "And apparently so are you."
Negan chuckles a filthy sound into Rick's neck, pushing himself closer. "You wanna help me out, Rick? I'd do it myself, but I'm all thumbs."
Rick briefly imagines what Negan might look like jerking off, and a delicious shudder rolls through him. He shuts that train of thought down, because there's something he wants to try. And since Negan has done it for him, he might be expecting an attempt at reciprocation. Rick doesn't think Negan will mock him for his lack of experience here. Hell, it might even turn him on that he's Rick's first in this particular field.
Go for it, Grimes.
He turns over so he's facing Negan and gets his hand inside his shorts, fingers wrapped around Negan's cock. Negan purrs in contentment, his hips rocking into the slide of Rick's fist, and he's got no idea what Rick is planning until Rick climbs down his body and opens his mouth around the swollen, glistening head.
"Ah, fuck," Negan shakes out, his hands immediately tugging Rick's hair. Rick can't fit the whole thing in his mouth—at least not yet—so he focuses more on technique, little flicks of his tongue that draw Negan's hips off the mattress and make him actually fucking whimper. "Jesus, Rick..." Rick squeezes the base in his hand, his thumb rubbing over the thick vein on the underside. His mouth works slow and supple, swallowing him down maybe a third of the way, and he moans around him, pulling a long groan out of Negan.
"Fucking asshole," Negan grits out, his hips moving in careful waves, restraining himself. "Your goddamned mouth is just..." The rest of that sentence is subsumed in a gasp when Rick glides his tongue down the shaft, briefly teasing his balls before Negan starts fucking Rick's throat, all tenderness gone. "Shit, you gotta let me come in your mouth."
That's the hottest thing Rick's heard in a while—at least since the last time they had sex—and he's totally down for that. He hums in affirmation, sucking and stroking him until Negan breaks apart in a hot gush. Negan tastes like salt and cotton, and Rick finds that he likes it. Negan's hands grip Rick's hair, his mouth moaning profanity-laced encouragements until his orgasm subsides. Rick takes it all, swallowing every drop.
"Fucking hell," Negan sighs, his chest heaving with exertion. "Is there anything you can't do?"
A hundred sassy and sappy answers spring to mind, but Rick doesn't voice any of them, just lets Negan slip out of his mouth and kisses his way up to Negan's lips. He wonders if Negan can taste himself there, the lingering bitterness on Rick's tongue.
"You sure you don't have a greasy truck-stop hooker past I don't know about?"
"Nope," Rick drawls. "I'm squeaky-clean."
"Bull. Shit." Negan nips at Rick's chin, hands sliding over his back. "You were fuckin' worshiping my cock like it was an altar and you had some goddamn sins to confess."
"We're all sinners, no saints. Like you said."
Negan grins, like he's amazed Rick remembers anything that comes out of his mouth. "Well, why don't we do some hardcore sinning by scandalizing your son with how motherfucking cute we are together?"
Rick laughs, because he can't believe Negan actually called them cute. That word shouldn't even be in Negan's vocabulary except in reference to babies and animals. Or baby animals.
"Don't flaunt it," Rick says, and he knows that's a lost cause immediately after it leaves his mouth. "I think he's already scarred for life."
Carl is indeed scarred for life, and he's definitely more traumatized when they're all downstairs and he has to face the reality that Negan spent the night in Rick's bed. "I can't believe this," Carl says, shaking his head like he's resigned himself to this bizarro world where Rick and Negan are a couple. He glares across the breakfast table at Negan and snarls, "Why don't you just move in?"
Negan flashes Rick a devilish grin, which makes Rick blush. "Um, no, it's not—it's not like that," Rick tries to explain. "We didn't—He had a bit too much to drink, so I let him stay here."
Negan snickers. "Rick, you lie like a rug. And not even a nice rug, either. One of those old, raggedy ones that always bunches up and makes you trip."
"Dad, don't lie to me," Carl sighs. "I know what you did, and it's gross and I don't wanna think about it, but I can't stop thinking about it 'cause he's right here at our table like that's normal."
"Does Uncle Negan live with us now?" Judith asks, looking to Carl for answers.
Carl's eyes go as wide as saucers.
"No, honey," Rick cuts in, sparing Carl from having to explain. "We just had a little sleepover."
"Oh." Judith seems disappointed that Negan isn't moving in, which makes Carl's skin lose a bit of color.
"Don't you worry, kiddo," Negan tells her. "I'll be around a lot. So it'll kinda be like I live here."
If Carl frowns any harder he'll swallow his chin.
"But it's time for me to get goin'," Negan says, graciously taking his leave, apparently deciding he's made things awkward enough for one morning. He pushes away from the table and stands up, grabs his jacket off the back of the chair. "Rick, drop me a line sometime." He bends at the waist, just enough to dip down and place a chaste kiss on Rick's mouth. Rick is momentarily stunned by the public display of affection, but he figures it's Negan's snide way of rubbing Carl's face in their relationship.
Judith gasps, her hands clasped over her mouth in stunned excitement, the same way she does when she watches Frozen and Elsa's love for Anna saves the day.
Carl makes a disgusted noise. "Ugh, I'm seriously gonna throw up."
"Carl, see you at practice," Negan says casually, sauntering away and out the door like he didn't just kiss Carl's father at the breakfast table.
"Daddy, are you and Uncle Negan in love?" Judith blurts out.
Can Rick have one moment where his children aren't embarrassing him?
"Uh, well," Rick sputters, "I do like him a lot." He's hesitant to say the truth out loud, as though giving voice to his feelings will somehow erode or negate his love for Lori.
"Oooh," Judith coos, dragging out the word.
Carl shakes his head as though he's lost all faith in the world. "Why couldn't you just get a motorcycle like every other mid-life crisis?"
If Negan were here he'd probably make a joke about Rick riding him like a Harley, but he's not here, so Rick just smiles slightly at the thought.
He misses Negan already.
By Wednesday, Carl has already started mowing lawns after school to get out of the house and not be forced to endure Rick and Negan's shenanigans. It's not like Rick can forbid him from earning some extra money (which Carl insists he's using to move out—sure, kid), and the whole experience will build character and job skills. And Carl being out of the house is a huge perk, since Rick and Negan won't have to deal with his constant moping and angry noises.
The three of them are sitting on the front porch, enjoying the refreshing breeze. Judith's sitting on Negan's knee; she's taken quite a liking to him—honestly, Rick would never have seen that coming.
"Lucille and I used to have a place like this," Negan says, his voice oddly somber. "Close-knit neighborhood, backyard barbeques, all that suburban garbage."
Rick picks up on the edge of melancholy in Negan's voice. "You miss it?"
"I wish it didn't end the way it did," Negan says with a shrug.
In a dark place he won't tell anyone about, Rick fears ending up like Negan, shut out and alone, ostracized by the community that once embraced him and elected him sheriff. Which he thinks might happen if the true nature of his relationship with Negan goes public. His rational side tells him he's worrying over nothing—Tara and Rosita are getting married with no fear of protest or homophobic bullshit, and Aaron and Eric have been married for three years now, and they are respected members of the community.
But it's different for Rick, he's certain, because people might feel "tricked" or betrayed that he wasn't upfront about his sexuality, which seems ridiculous, because Rick didn't know himself until recently. Or they'll make the cringeworthy assumption that Rick has lost his mind in the wake of Lori's death; since his only serious relationship was with a woman, they'll assume he couldn't possibly be attracted to men too.
Rick sighs, shaking off the anxious thoughts. He looks at Negan, at this roguish, secretly-soft man whose life has chewed him up and spit him out. "Well, the bright side is we get to start over. Life doesn't end just 'cause you lose somethin'. Sometimes I forget that."
Negan gives him a look, like that's too corny even for him, and Rick feels affectionately embarrassed for a moment before real chagrin slams into him like a wrecking ball, because Carol's cheery voice chirps, "Oh, Rick, is this your friend?" from next door.
Negan gives her a five-finger wave. "Howdy, ma'am. You must be Carol. Rick's told me a little about you."
Carol smiles and heads down the steps of her porch. "Did he? Well, he certainly hasn't told me anything about you." She joins them and offers Negan her hand. "It's nice to meet you..." She trails off, giving him space to supply his name.
"Negan." He grins, shakes her hand with the one that isn't holding Judith.
"Hi, Aunt Carol!" Judith pipes up. She wants in on this too.
Carol smiles at her. "Hi, sunshine!" She glances at Negan. "She seems to like you."
"Takes after her daddy," Negan says with a wicked smirk.
Carol gives Rick a knowing smile. "Is that so? Rick, I can't imagine why you wouldn't want me to meet this delightful gentleman."
Rick snickers at her insistence on the terminology. She ought to spend more than a minute with him and realize he's the furthest thing from a gentleman.
"Hear that, Rick? I'm delightful," Negan gloats.
"You two should come over for dinner sometime," Carol says. "Morgan and I will cook up something special for you. Negan, what do you like to eat?"
Rick's heart rate skyrockets, and he prays a silent prayer Negan will keep his answer G-rated.
"I love me some pie," Negan says, grinning at Rick like he fucking knows exactly what's running through Rick's mind. "And every now and then I enjoy a nice chunk of meat."
Rick's face goes red, and it's suddenly eight-thousand degrees outside and he can't stop blushing. Is it really too much to ask that Negan be appropriate for at least one conversation?
Carol's smile says she absolutely hears the double entendres there. "I'm sure we can work with that. Rick, you let me know when you're available."
"Oh, uh, I appreciate the offer, but Carl and Negan don't really get along... It's mostly Carl." Forcing Negan and Carl to eat together is like strapping a block of C-4 to the table and waiting for detonation.
"Well, you know how teenagers are," Carol chuckles. "Sophia would rather eat in her room than spend time with us, so we could let them go upstairs while the adults get to know each other."
Shit, Rick was kind of trying to back out of this social obligation, but Carol just shut him right down. Offering up another excuse after Carol has provided a solution will seem flaky and rude.
"C'mon, Rick," Negan urges. "Never turn down free food and hospitality. It's un-Southern."
You're from Michigan, Rick wants to yell, because Negan has zero business lecturing him on any etiquette south of the Mason-Dixon Line. But he just nods and says, "Alright, that'll be nice. Thank you."
Carol smiles and pats them on the shoulders. "See, boys, that wasn't so hard." She runs a hand through Judith's blonde hair. "Bye, sweetie. I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Okay!" Judith's pretty easy to please.
Carol turns away and heads down the steps. "Negan, it was a pleasure meeting you."
"Pleasure's all mine," Negan drawls.
When Carol has gone back inside her house, Rick shoots Negan a glance and says, "What was that?"
"What?"
Rick isn't really sure how to describe what just happened there. "That."
"You're embarrassed of me." A smirk grows on Negan's mouth like a vine. "That's why you didn't want her to meet me."
"You are embarrassing," Rick acknowledges, "but that's not why..." He rubs his scruffy chin, starts over. "I wanna stay in the bubble a little bit longer."
Negan covers Judith's ears for a moment as he says, "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Rick sighs. How does Negan not know about the bubble? "The beginning of a relationship. Lori called it the bubble, 'cause it's just fun and easy. There's no problems or stress."
"And you don't consider Carl's reaction to us stressful or a problem?"
"That's my point," Rick says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "If this turns into something real, we're gonna have to deal with even more of that, along with everyone in town knowing our business and maybe risking our jobs and a whole bunch of other un-fun stuff. This is the easy part, and I don't wanna let go of that yet."
Negan thinks that over. "Fair enough. But it's just dinner, and Carol seems like the type to be all up in your business anyway. But it's up to you, Rick. You know this town better than I do."
Rick decides to take the plunge and arranges for dinner with Carol and Morgan the next day. None of them are busy, so Carol has all afternoon to prepare the food for tonight.
It's around six p.m., and Rick has showered and changed into Nice Clothes, which makes Carl suspicious. "You have a date?" Carl says with a grimace, like he doesn't want to know the answer.
"Sort of. Carol and Morgan are having us over for dinner."
"'Us' being...?"
"The four of us."
Carl makes an exasperated noise, sprawled over the couch in a particularly dramatic way.
"I wouldn't lay there if I were you," Rick warns.
Carl shoots up like something out of a toaster and abandons the sofa. "No! Are you serious? Is there any surface in this house you two haven't defiled?"
Rick chuckles to himself. Negan's right; Carl's overreactions are hilarious. Well worth the price of admission.
"Please tell me the kitchen's still sacred," Carl begs.
"For now."
"Ugh. That's where we eat!"
The doorbell rings, and Rick answers, swinging open the door to reveal Negan standing there, proud as a peacock. "Well, look at you all dressed up!" Negan says, sauntering inside like he lives here. Which he kind of does.
"Look at you... wearing that same outfit. Do you own any other clothes?"
"You oughta know, Rick. You're the one who's been taking 'em off," Negan says as he tucks himself into Rick's personal space.
"Gross," Carl interjects, turning away so he doesn't have to witness any displays of affection between them.
But Rick barely hears him, dazzled by Negan's proximity and impish smirk. Every time Negan gets close, Rick's heart jackhammers inside his chest and butterflies erupt in his stomach, making him feel simultaneously terrified and empowered enough to take on the world. He settles for getting a hand in Negan's jacket and tugging him close until there's no more space between them anymore, and Negan's mouth is hot over his own. Rick loses himself a little, his hands reaching up to either side of Negan's face and scraping his nails through the scruff there.
"I can hear you guys kissing!" Carl scolds pointedly.
Negan breaks away from Rick's mouth to say, "You're gonna hear a lot more than that eventually," with a wicked grin, and Carl groans in disgust, and Rick laughs at how vulgar and ridiculous his boyfriend is, and he's not going to panic that he just thought of Negan as his boyfriend, because this is a perfect moment in their relatively stress-free bubble.
"Maybe don't be gross tonight?" Rick suggests, fixing the lapels of Negan's leather jacket. "I want Carol and Morgan to like you. If they don't, I'm gonna get an earful."
Negan scowls in frustration, because he definitely sees an opportunity to make a dirty joke here, but he can't, and it's killing him inside. "I charmed the pants right off of you." He gives Rick a toothy smile, fully aware of the innuendo there and looking for all the world like he's proud of himself for not making the joke.
Rick blushes. "Well, I don't think Carol will appreciate the full brunt of your, uh, charm. Just dial it back a bit."
"Right, we don't want the poor woman disrobing. Think of how Morgan would feel."
God, Negan is so obnoxiously confident it makes Rick want to do dirty, filthy things to him.
"Can we just go?" Carl whines, and, yeah, maybe Rick's stalling a little.
"It could be worse," Negan tells him, easing his hands into the back pockets of Rick's jeans and giving his ass a little squeeze. "Your dad could'a gone for Ron Anderson's super-hot mom instead of me. Which would sort of make you and Ron brothers. Now how about that?"
Carl just grumbles something about the devil you know, but he really doesn't have a good argument for that one.
Carol greets them with a bright smile when the four of them ring the doorbell. "There you are! Come in, come in!"
Carol's home is warm and cozy, but the interior decorating reminds Rick of a Florida retiree's beach house. Golden Girls chic. There are floral-patterned couches and pastel colors and wicker furniture. Morgan's in the kitchen wearing an apron and setting out two delicious-looking pies; both are sort of unidentifiable, but one has some reddish spots around the edges that might be cherries or cranberries. Also cooling on the countertop is a casserole dish of potatoes au gratin.
Rick joins Morgan while Carol fawns over Negan and Judith, and Carl latches onto Sophia like she's a life preserver in this sea of insanity.
"Really went all out on the pie thing, huh?" Rick jokes. "Which one's yours?"
"Chicken pot pie," Morgan says, pointing to one of the golden-crusted pies. "Carol wanted to debut her cranberry pie recipe tonight."
"Negan will appreciate that."
Morgan lifts an eyebrow. "So you and Negan, huh?"
Rick laughs, ducking his head to hide the way his cheeks flush red at the name. "It's complicated."
"Brain surgery is complicated. Matters of the heart tend not to be."
"You'd be surprised."
"Oh, I am surprised," Morgan says with a smile. He unties his apron and hangs it on the hook inside the walk-in pantry door. "But I think I get it. He's lonely. You're lonely. You found each other."
"How'd you know about him?" Rick wonders. "He's not really a big talker when it comes to personal stuff."
"You're right, but sometimes it's what people don't say. He comes into that diner about twice a week, and I've never seen him talk to anyone the way he talked to you that day. He's got no ring on his finger, no girls he brings around or even talks about. And I see him spike his sodas when he thinks I'm not looking."
A smile twitches at the corner of Rick's mouth in remembrance.
"Do my eyes deceive me, or do I see two pies here?" Negan says, strolling into the kitchen. "Morgan, you sonovabitch, you spoil me."
"I can't take all the credit. Carol helped, too."
"Well, shit, why are we standin' around like a couple of assholes? Let's eat!"
Rick can already tell this evening's going to be a profanity-laced disaster.
Except, it's not. Carl makes up a lame homework-related excuse to eat upstairs with Sophia, which Carol grants because she's already been briefed on Carl's penchant for sass when Negan's involved. That leaves the adults free to break out the wine and talk freely while Judith happily eats without a care.
Carol asks the typical questions regarding how they met, and Negan answers with charm and honesty, and he doesn't drink or swear too much, and Rick thinks there might be a future here. That his self-indulgent fantasies about a life with Negan aren't too far off the mark. Negan's casually sloped in his chair, jacket draped over the back, and if he's nervous about Carol and Morgan's appraisal he's not showing it. Throughout the main course he's made them laugh quite a few times, and Carol has given Rick a few brief, knowing smile, as though approving of his choice in men.
Over dessert, Carol asks, "Negan, where did you live before you came here?"
"A small town in Michigan. Actually smaller than this."
Carol seems to know instinctively to stay away from any questions regarding Negan's family, but she does seem like she's digging for information. "So what brought you to King County? We're not really known for anything."
"After I left Michigan, I just started driving. A road trip with no destination, I guess you'd call it," Negan says. "I went all over. Took me about six months, just visiting a bunch of different states, trying to find something worth holding onto. But I made it here, and somethin' told me I should give up the nomad thing and start over. So I did."
"Were you a teacher back in Michigan too?"
"For a while, yeah. Before that I was a mechanic, but my first wife thought I should have a more 'respectable' job."
Carol senses something there but doesn't poke at it. "First wife? How many times have you been married?"
"Twice." Negan turns his head to Rick. "Third time's the charm, right, Rick?"
Rick feels like he might combust. He finishes off his glass of wine, hoping to pass off the color in his cheeks as a side-effect of the alcohol.
Negan laughs. "He is so uptight," he says, punctuating the word with a shake of his head. "Man, is it fun to yank his chain."
Why isn't there enough wine to thoroughly drown his shame, Rick wonders. "You were a mechanic?" he sputters, trying to steer the conversation away from the inevitable dirty joke.
"You think that bucket of bolts out there was always in such good shape? She was my dad's, before he split and left it in our driveway. Been keepin' her running for almost thirty years."
Rick's never heard Negan talk about his parents before. He wonders if it's a sore subject, but the wine has loosened his tongue, so he doesn't have the self-control to keep his questions to himself. "Your dad? What was he like?"
"A huge d-bag," Negan says, censoring himself for Judith's sake, which Rick finds weirdly charming. "He didn't used to be, but after the war he just... changed."
Rick doesn't know how old Negan is exactly, but he's guessing "the war" is probably the Vietnam War.
"Lucky for us he skipped town after a couple years of knockin' us around. Left the car as a parting gift."
Carol's expression softens almost imperceptibly. No one's really sure how to respond to that, so they just sit there in silence until Negan sighs and says, "C'mon, I didn't get too real for you, did I? Don't worry your pretty heads over me. I am totally well-adjusted."
"He said, convincing no one," Rick adds, teasing.
Negan gives him a smart-ass, 'go fuck yourself' look that tells Rick he's earned himself some Fifty Shades of Grey-level sex. Ugh, he'll probably have to call Negan 'Daddy' if he wants to get off.
"You see what a sassy boyfriend I have?" Negan says, pleading his case to Carol and Morgan with an exasperated sigh.
Rick swears his heart stops beating for a moment, because Negan just called him his boyfriend. Holy shit, is that what they are? Did Negan just admit—out loud and to other people—that he and Rick are an actual couple?
Maybe Negan wants this—the suburban happily-ever-after, raising kids and growing old together—just as much as Rick does. Negan's never seemed to give much of a shit what people think about him, but he seems like he's trying to make a good impression here—charming Rick's neighbors, cleaning up his language around Judith—because maybe he wants to be a permanent part of Rick's life.
After dinner, the four of them make it back home, and Rick feels deliciously tipsy and carefree, and it's hard for him to remember a time before Negan when he felt like this. Carl storms off to his room, unwilling to spend any more time with the two of them than absolutely necessary, and Judith climbs onto the couch to play with a toy she'd left there.
Since Judith's adequately distracted, Rick pushes his hands underneath Negan's jacket, tries to slip in close the way Negan does, but he feels like a doofus. Negan doesn't seem to mind, nipping at Rick's mouth and jerking him closer by the beltloops.
I love you, I love you, I love you, Rick thinks, but he's never been the best at talking about his feelings, which had been a point of contention between him and Lori during their last few years. So as he licks his way into Negan's mouth and tastes the sweet traces of cranberries and grapes there, Rick hears himself say, "You should move in," when he manages to break away from Negan's sinful lips.
Negan looks momentarily stunned before covering it up with a lopsided grin. "Movin' awful fast, aren't you, cowboy?"
"You made a marriage joke over dinner," Rick reminds him. "This is nothin'."
"Carl will have a shitfit," Negan says, mouthing at Rick's jaw.
Rick sighs, the words puncturing his stress-free bubble. Negan pulls back to look at him, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Part of me thinks this will be good for him, eventually," Rick elaborates. "But the other part thinks I'm just bein' selfish."
Negan shakes his head, his hands skimming over Rick's sides before curving around his waist. "Speaking as somewhat of an expert on deadbeat dads, I think you're doin' a damn fine job, all things considering."
"What changed your mind?"
Negan cocks an eyebrow. "Hm?"
"When we talked at the jail, you said I was pushing him away."
"And you were goin' through some serious shit. I'm cutting you some slack. But..." Negan lifts a hand to Rick's face and strokes his thumb over his cheek, making Rick shiver. "Would you be askin' me to move in if you didn't have alcohol on your breath?"
Rick exhales in an angry flare. "I'm not drunk."
"I didn't say you were. But I think your judgment's a little impaired."
"You were drinking too."
"I'm not the one asking my boyfriend of less than a week to move in."
Okay, maybe Rick's being a little overbearing here. Tone it back a bit. It's entirely possible losing Lori has encouraged Rick to dive headfirst into this without giving it time to simmer and percolate. He ought to enjoy what's left of the bubble while it lasts.
But, holy Christ, he said it again. Boyfriend.
Rick's not a thirteen-year-old girl, so he shouldn't get all fluttery inside when Negan says that, but damn.
"Why don't we see how you feel about it in the morning?" Negan says. "I've been a lot of people's drunken mistakes, but it'd kill me to be one of yours."
That's one of the sweetest things Rick's ever heard. He mimics Negan's earlier face-stroking motion, his salt-and-pepper beard raking over Rick's palm and thumb, and he recalls how it feels between his thighs. Need flares up inside of him, and Negan sees it in his eyes but doesn't give in, just kisses Rick's forehead and squeezes his shoulder.
"See you, cowboy." Negan disentangles from Rick and leans over the top of the couch, pushing a hand through Judith's hair. "Good night, Princess. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
Judith looks at him with wide, watery eyes. "No sleepover?"
"No, not tonight, darlin'. I think your dad could use the space."
Judith gives Rick an almost accusing glance, like she blames him entirely for this.
"But I'll come around tomorrow, don't you worry," Negan tells her. "I can't stay away too long. You keep your daddy in line, alright?"
"Okay!" Judith says, and it's a toss-up whether she even knows what Negan's asking, but damn if she's not enthusiastic about it.
Negan winks and clicks his tongue at her before turning back to Rick. "Stay out of trouble," he says, giving Rick a quick kiss. Then he's out the door.
Rick is a little baffled Negan didn't find a way for them to have depraved sex tonight, but he thinks that might be a good sign, a sign that Negan doesn't just view Rick as something to stick his cock into.
A boyfriend.
Rick smiles, warmed by the thought.
"Daddy, Carl doesn't like Uncle Negan," Judith says conspiratorially, like she's letting Rick in on a huge secret.
"I know."
"Why?"
Rick scrubs a hand through his hair. How the hell is he supposed to answer that? He drops next to her onto the couch. "I guess he thinks Uncle Negan's trying to take your mom's place in our family. But it's not like that. Carl doesn't understand that the way I feel about Negan doesn't mean I don't love your mom anymore."
Judith blinks. "Mama?"
"You remember her?"
Judith puts her hand to her mouth, shakes her head.
Rick realizes there are parts of his heart still able to be broken. He takes his daughter in his arms and says, "She loved you a lot. You would have loved her, too. She was smart and kindhearted and idealistic. She had the energy of a ten-year-old and the same taste in snacks." Rick chuckles to himself, recalling Lori's penchant for sweets. "She would have loved watching you grow up," he says, immediately bumming himself out.
Judith senses the drop in Rick's mood and tugs at his shirt with her tiny hands. "I love you, Daddy." Like it's a reminder.
"I know, pumpkin. I love you too."