The Ruins Part 3 (Series of The Ruins)

Chapter 12

Mal finally felt like she was acclimating to lie in Sanctuary, to call home now. Maybe because it was so calm- after the dust settled with the Calvary Boys, nothing else had come up to make her feel like she was balancing on a knife's edge. She was beginning to sleep easier at night. It certainly helped that Negan was always there, curled protectively around her like a lanky grizzly bear. It didn't stop the nightmares every night, and sometimes she would still find herself tossing and turning and lying awake well into the late hours of the night, but it was better with Negan by her side. Even when the familiar creeping fear began to claw its way into her mind, she felt safe and comforted by Negan's presence.

She felt frustrated sometimes with her progress- that it wasn't always uphill. Sure took so many steps back and then forward again that she wondered if she was basically standing in one place. She had hoped that after she and Negan had been intimate for the first time that her fear surrounding sex would fade away quickly, but the next evening she found herself twitching away from Negan's tentative explorations. When Negan pulled his hands away, looking concerned, he internally berated himself.

It was so good, she tried to remind herself. Why can't I just do it again? I didn't have to do a damned thing...

Her frustration must have shown on her face, because Negan softened, reaching out to take her hand and pressing a kiss to the soft skin on the underside of her wrist. "It's okay, baby," he said, "Really. I know it's a lot. You take your time, alright? I'm not fucking going anywhere."

It went back and forth like that, with her pulling away on some nights and pressing into the intimate touches on the others, letting Negan's gentle caresses draw her out and work her over until she was panting into the curve of Negan's neck and spilling right over the edge, taken apart by the sweet pleasure of Negan's mouth or hands. She hated that her hands shook the scant times she'd tried to reciprocate, hated that she hadn't been able to go further than letting her trembling fingers stutter uselessly against the waistband of Negan's boxers.

Negan never asked her, never expected her to. Never got upset with her when Mal dropped her eyes in shame and stumbled out a sorry.

"I don't fucking know why I can't. It's not like he made me- I'm not even trying to do- what he..." She gritted her teeth, hands in her lap. "I should be able to. I want to. I feel like a useless fucking tease, doing this to you-" Self-deprecation settled heavy in her chest, the heat of her anger overtaking the cautious, kindling embers of desire.

"Mal." Negan pressed lips to her forehead, stroked her hair, twisting curling locks of it around her long fingers. "Don't fucking do that. You have plenty of reason to not be okay with it. It's alright. I'm telling you, I don't fucking mind. I got two perfectly good hands." He smiled wryly, "you know my hands can work some goddamned magic, baby."

At that, Mal laughed- and she loved Negan for that. She loved that even when she was feeling absolutely bleak, this man could drop some ridiculous or flirty line that could make her crack a smile.

Mal eyed the bulge in Negan's shorts, brow furrowed. "I still feel selfish," she admitted. "You- you just made me-" she blushed even at the memory of it, the evidence still slick and sticky against her thighs. "You've done a lot for me."

"You've done so much for me, Mal," Negan said, his voice resolute. "I mean it. I don't give a single shit if you aren't ready for this. You fucking took me in, you trusted me, you gave me a second chance in this shitty-ass hellhole of a world. Stop keepin' score, baby girl. We're not playing for points over here."

Negan kisses her, they kissed long and hard, knowing Negan has to stop.

"Mmmm... okay, okay, I gotta go." Negan pulled himself off Mal, shifting away to rub at his face, using every ounce of self-restraint not to jump back on her. When Negan turned to get out of bed and take care of himself in the privacy of the bathroom, Mal impulsively caught his wrist, dragging him back into bed.