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You were being twitchy. And odd. And it was freaking Negan the fuck out.
As your almost-dad for nearly four years now, Negan knew you pretty damn well. Knew your quirks, your oddities, everything that came together to make you the wonderful kid you were. He knew what time you went to bed, what chores were your least favourite, your little routines. But this was strange even for you, and Negan did not like it one bit.
You’d been sitting on the sofa, a little further away than normal, your eyes fixed on the book in your lap that he knew you weren’t reading. He knew you weren’t reading it because you’d been staring blankly at the same page for at least ten minutes now, all the while your fingers were twitching and you kept throwing furtive glances his way.
He opened his mouth to ask you what was wrong, but he bit his tongue. He had to approach this the right way; if you weren’t ready to talk, and he sprang a conversation on you, he knew you’d run for the hills. You had that in common, the pair of you. Running away from emotional… stuff. You’d made each other better, held each other accountable, but there was still a long way to go.
“Looks like a long-ass book you’re hunched over there. Whatcha reading?”
It took a moment for you to register the question, and when you did, you startled a little; Negan had to bite down on his tongue to not laugh. You looked like a guilty toddler caught drawing on the walls.
“It’s, uhhh…” You murmured, flushing bright red as you quickly checked the cover. “Jurassic Park.”
Well, that definitely confirmed Negan’s suspicions. You weren’t nearly so unobservant to not even know the name of the book you were seemingly halfway through. All the other times he’d asked about your reading exploits, you’d launched into a ten minute explanation of the story, the characters, your predictions for the rest of the book. One sentence answers just weren’t your style.
“Well shit, Jurassic Park is a book? I only knew about the film, the one where Jeff Goldblum is the hot maths guy? Fuck, I used to love that film. You seen it?”
Another pause, and Negan’s brows furrowed for a split second as he noticed the way your leg was bouncing.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ve seen it.”
He waited for you to elaborate, but you turned back to face the unmoving pages of the book, fingers scratching at the pages almost unconsciously.
“Thoughts? Feelings? Opinions?”
“It’s… yeah. Pretty good, I guess.”
Negan shook his head.
“Okay, out with it.”
In an instant, you were alert, book closed and already forgotten about on the sofa cushions next to you. Your face was still flushed, and your hands came up to rest against your biceps as you crossed your arms. Negan could see the red half-moons you were cutting into your skin without you even noticing.
“Out with what? I really thought it was pretty good. I wouldn’t say I had any particularly strong feelings about Jurassic Park, but-”
“No, not about Jurassic Park,” Negan sighed, scrubbing hands over his face and fighting an amused smile. “What’s going on with you? You’re being… odd.”
You shrugged, looking away. “I’m always odd.”
“I know that, kid, trust me- but this is odd even for you. Talk to your old man. Maybe I’ve got something rattling around in this empty head of mine that might be able to help.”
You shook your head.
“It’s not- it’s fine. It’s nothing.”
Negan raised an eyebrow. “Either you think I’m stupid, or you’re severely overestimating your ability to tell a decent lie. I don’t know which one it is, but I know you’re bullshitting me, so just tell me what’s going on and we can fix it.”
You looked up at him with such a hopeful expression that it made his stomach flip. He never knew it was possible to love someone as much as he loved you. Who’d have thought the big bad Negan would turn soft over a random kid he’d kind-of-adopted in the middle of the end of the world?
“I just-” You started, before cutting yourself off by throwing your head back against the sofa with a dull thud. “I actually can’t say it. It’s mortifying.”
That worried Negan even more. You told him everything - romantic trouble, compound gossip, girl problems, everything in between.
“Kiddo, I can guarantee whatever it is, I’ve heard worse. Shit, I’ve probably done worse. Almost definitely. But I can’t help if I don’t know what the fuck is up, hm?”
Negan watched you curl in on yourself, fingers raking across your arms gently, less like you were trying to hurt yourself and more like you were trying to comfort yourself. That made his stomach sink like a stone.
“It’s just- just embarrassing. Like… it isn’t bad, I just feel stupid saying it. But it’s stressing me the fuck out, and I actually don’t know what to do anymore,” You spat out, your face beetroot red.
“Then be embarrassing. You know me, I don’t give a fuck,” Negan chuckled. “C’mon, princess. Let me fix it.”
You sucked in a deep breath, before covering your face with your arms and half-yelling:
“Ijustreallyneedahugokay!”
Well. That pulled Negan up short.
“You- huh?” He was bewildered. All this, over a hug?
“I just- sometimes we go a long time without hugging, and I know it’s not your fault but it makes me feel funny, like it feels kinda like my skin is crawling on my bones and my head goes all fuzzy like static and everything gets too loud and too far away and I just really need a hug from you I’m so sorry it’s so stupid.”
Words tumbled from your lips like vomit and once you’d finished, you clamped both hands over your mouth, utterly mortified.
Negan could’ve cried with relief. This was something he could fix, and easily.
“You wanna stand up or lie on the couch?”
It was your turn to be bewildered. “What?”
“C’mon, bud, it’s not rocket science. Standing-up-hug or lying-on-the-couch-cuddle? Ladies choice.”
He watched the relief sink into your body as you stood up and held out your arms. Negan stood up, towering over you as he opened his arms and you fell into them with ease.
“That’s it, you’re good. Your old man’s got you,” he hummed, wrapping one arm firmly around your middle and using the other to cradle your head where it fell against his chest. Your arms were squeezing his torso so tightly that if you’d been any taller or stronger, you’d have broken a few of his ribs, no doubt. But instead the pressure was firm and reassuring against him, and he let his eyes slip closed.
“There we go. There we go,” Negan continued to reassure you as he felt you shuddering against him, settling into a comfortable position and pushing your head up against the hand he’d moved to card through your hair.
It was only a hug, but Negan would be stupid not to recognise how much of a step forward this was for you. When the pair of you had first met, when you were little more than a traumatised and muddy kid and he was an ex-serial-killer turned remorseful farmer, you’d found it nearly impossible to ask for anything you needed. He’d found you passed out in the stables before you’d told him you hadn’t been feeling well for the last week. You’d go for days in pain or hungry because you couldn’t bring yourself to ask for extra rations or painkillers.
But this was brilliant. This was you needing, and feeling safe enough to ask for it.
“I’m proud of you, bud, and I’m glad you asked for a hug. You can always have whatever you need. All you gotta do is ask me. I’ll figure it out.”
You nodded, rubbing your forehead against the rough fabric of Negan’s shirt for comfort.
Little by little, Negan felt the tension leave your body in increments until you were nearly boneless in his arms, He readjusted so he was taking on more of your weight, and spoke quietly.
“You good like this, princess? You comfortable?”
You nodded again, before tugging at Negan’s collar and nodding towards the sofa. Negan was confused for a second before he caught on.
“You lost your words, kiddo?”
He saw as you nodded, but kept a firm hold on you as you tried to start pulling away in embarrassment.
“Hey, no, you’re going nowhere. You ain’t gotta be embarrassed. Fuck knows I chat enough bullshit for the both of us.”
Slowly, Negan manoeuvred the pair of you so he was lying on the sofa, you lying on top of him, his strong arms proving the pressure and touch you’d been craving for weeks.
You looked up at him, and for a second the pair of you were five years younger, in this same position after some nightmare or argument or something or other. Negan smiled, brushing your hair behind your ears and letting you get yourself comfortable.
“Well, I’ve got a hug quota to fill, so I suggest you take a nap whilst I get to it. Take a minute, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere, hm? I’ll stay right here.”
You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. You pressed your hand to Negan’s chest, right over his heart, before pressing it to your own. Negan couldn’t help his own answering grin.
“Love you too, angel. Til the end of the world.”
You closed your eyes, and Negan pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head.
“Maybe even longer. Who knows.”