The first time Carl allows Negan’s to work his fingers slowly into his mouth, just the fingertips teasing his tongue, they taste like leather. It’s so strange, the feel of the glove on his tongue, but the way Negan looks at him, so proud and hungry, is addicting. So he keeps letting him do it. Sometimes he’s rough and Carl thinks he’s out for blood when Negan makes him gag, tears welling in his eye, on his long fingers. He wonders what he did wrong until he catches sight of the older man’s face and sees how wrecked and pleased he looks and Carl can’t begin to understand why. Other times it’s gentle, a soft caress of one finger along the slick muscle, in those moments, usually beneath and full of Negan, it feels like another kiss.

///

Carl, trying to impress him: *lights cigarette*