*HIATUS WARNING*
I want to give y'all a heads up that there will be one more chapter update next Friday (June 25th), but after that I will be taking a mini hiatus during the month of July. I'm planning to join Camp Nano, and so rather than spending time each week editing and posting, I want to focus as much energy as I can on binge-writing some new chapters and seeing if I can outline a potential path towards an ending for this fic. I'm aiming to start posting weekly again at the end of July, if things go according to plan.
I feel bad doing this, but I'm also proud as hell of myself for giving y'all 9 weeks of consistent updates. I also think taking a month break from updates to map out the direction I want ID to end up in and trying to write as much of it as I can during Camp Nano, so that y'all can then continue to get weekly updates (hopefully until it's over), is a fair trade-off. So please don't hate me *sweats*
That being said, this chapter sets up what will be a doozy of a next chapter, so buckle up.
When arriving back down on the third floor, you decided to make a quick pit stop at your room to gather a change of clothes and soap before heading to the shower room to refresh. Sure, you could've used Negan's shower, which would've been much more luxurious, but you didn't want to impede his morning anymore than you already had. Sometimes you forgot how much he had on his plate, but the almost constant interruptions and calls for him to attend meetings and supply runs were reminders that, unlike you, he couldn't do whatever he wanted for the first half of the day.
Also, if you were being extra honest, your emotions were in a bit of turmoil from the rollercoaster ride of events last night and this morning. He had gone cold on you last night, shutting down and not wanting to discuss the supply run or even really be touched. And while he still had felt emotionally a bit distant this morning, the physical distance had definitely been lifted. However, you still weren't sure how to react to him brushing off your offer to talk things out, and needed some time away from him today to gather your thoughts.
Showered and refreshed, you folded Negan's green shirt and tucked it into your bin of clothes. Much as you wanted to wear it all day, you also didn't want to get any stains on it while working. Leaving your room, you took a different route through the compound, rounding a few corners and entering a section of the third floor hallway on the opposite side of the building, where Ben's room was located. You had told him yesterday in the kitchens that you'd speak with him today, and what better time than now. Breakfast was over, and there was still a few hours before dinner prep, so hopefully he'd be free and expecting you.
When he opened his door and saw you standing there, his face lit up. Since his roommate was also in the room, you both decided to go outside and find a spot where there were no listening ears. The sun was bright and intense, and Ben immediately wandered around back of the Sanctuary, towards the gardens. Walking among the rows of plants, you watched as he stopped here and there to check out some of the tomato plants and fresh herbs, before diving into conversation. Since you didn't want to hog the time with Negan worries, you instead started with a more lighthearted topic.
Checking for the dozenth time to make sure no one was within hearing distance, you said, "Soooo, you and Simon? I want details. Spill."
Ben's cheeks flushed, perhaps partially from the hot sun but most likely because of the mention of the tall, cheerful Savior who had been taking up so much of his free time. You had already noticed Simon stopping by the kitchen "to check in" more than needed when Negan was gone, but you listened intently as Ben told you about the afternoon he had randomly joined in on making the chocolate cake for you and Negan's date. You unsuccessfully tried to stifle a giggle when Ben said how he had almost dropped the cake ingredients about a dozen times out of nervousness. The oblivious fool had still been convinced Simon had no interest at that point, and thought he just liked messing around with Ben's head and seeing him act out of sorts. Your chuckling turned to a shocked gasp when he recounted how Simon had then made his intentions very obvious by pressing the shorter man into the kitchen counter and tracing Ben's lips with leftover chocolate icing before kissing him. Ben didn't give many more details, but you had a feeling that more than just the oven had heated up after that.
"Damn, your first kiss involved chocolate?! I gotta give it to him, the man's got moves," you marveled. If that was how he treated a first kiss, then you almost couldn't contain your excitement for Ben with whatever Simon came up with involving the fudge brownie advice you had provided.
"Does he have his own room you can go to, like Negan does?" you asked, unsure what the setup for the Saviors was.
"No," Ben said with a grumble. "He has a roommate, like I do, but sometimes he's out on night shift watching the perimeter fences. I've been able to go up and see him on those evenings, but otherwise he just uh...comes to see me in the kitchen after dinner is over."
Ben's blush grew deeper at that confession, and you wished there was a way for him and Simon to have more private time. Perhaps you could ask Negan about it, see if Simon could be promoted to a single room. You tucked the idea away for later, and asked another pivotal question.
"Do you want to continue sneaking around with him, or do the two of you want to be more open about things?"
Ben shrugged and stared at the tomato plants, but you could tell the gears in his brain were turning, the same way yours did when considering the same question in relation to Negan.
"We've discussed it a little, and while part of me is hesitant to shout how I'm feeling from the rooftops, if things continue being this great with him then I...I wouldn't want to keep hiding it." He looked up at you then. "I just wouldn't want anyone to treat me differently, if they knew. Not that I expect everyone to be happy about it, but...I don't want to hide who I am, even if an apocalypse hasn't suddenly made everyone accepting of seeing a relationship like ours."
You felt a twinge of hurt for Ben, as well as anger that he had an extra social obstacle to loving whoever he wanted. An obstacle that made zero sense and spoke to what fucked up societal norms humans had created.
Making sure to hold his eye contact, you said firmly, "If anyone gives you crap about it, anyone at all, they'll have me, Simon, and Negan to deal with." When he gave a skeptical quirk of his brow, you added, "Perks of being best friends with the boss lady, remember?"
He finally smiled at the reference to what he had said in the kitchen the other day, about having immunity from Negan's wrath due to his being close to you. Some of the tension left him, and he silently pondered for a bit, before the conversation shifted in an unsurprising direction.
"So," he said, tone becoming more serious. "Your turn. How are things with you and the boss man?"
Letting out a sigh, you caught Ben up on the events of the last few days, including him shutting down about what happened on the supply run and your overwhelming need to know where things were going. You left out the conversation with Maria for now, wanting to focus on your direct interactions with Negan first. Ben had been drawing patterns with his shoe in the dirt while listening intently, and let out a low whistle when you finished.
After a few moments of silence, as if he was trying to decide which information to attack first, he asked, "So you said about him pulling away and shutting down, but what about you? Have you been open all the time with him, or shutting down as well?"
Damnit, you thought. Of course he'd hit the nail right on the head and call you out. One look at your face and he knew the answer, his lips curling into a humorless, lopsided grin.
"You gotta talk it out with him, asap."
"I know, I know," you mumbled, kicking at a rock. You then told him about Amber's mini meltdown, and how the wives were aware of you being the reason he had stopped sleeping with them.
"Um, okay, yea. You really need to have a talk with him. Like an epic, "clear your schedule for the evening because this is gonna take a while" level of talk."
"Easy for you to say," you snarked, feeling defensive even though he was telling you exactly what you already knew.
"Hey, if I can get Simon to sit still and focus long enough to talk about our expectations of the other and what we're looking for, then so can you." At your look of surprise, he nodded. "Yep, we did that the other night. We both wanted to make sure the other wasn't just in it for a fun but unemotional time, which thank god we aren't. Despite acting like nothing ever bothers him, he's a surprisingly sensitive and romantic kinda guy."
You grinned happily at that. Thank goodness you could cross "Richardo-stab Simon if he ends up being a shallow fuck boy" off the list of things to stress over.
"You make a conversation like that sound so easy. What's the secret?"
Giving a light shrug, as if the answer should be obvious, he said, "Honestly, the secret is that once you realize the other person likes you enough to wanna sit down and talk through any concerns or hesitancy, it is easy. You've gotta stop overanalyzing it." He gave a sarcastic look and added, "Something I know you struggle with. But if Negan cares about you as much as it sounds like he does, then he'd want to talk to you as his equal and put your worries to rest, discuss both of your expectations and compromise where needed. If he's not willing to do those things then...well...I hate to say it, but he's not worth your time, and he doesn't deserve someone as amazing as you at his side."
Your chest warmed at that last compliment, at the same time that your stomach dropped a bit at the thought of Negan not doing those things and turning you away. It sounded so obvious and simple when Ben laid it out like that, and in all honesty, you were finally starting to believe that Negan did indeed care about you enough to want to talk out any issues.
However, there was still that part of you that was drowning in self-doubt, that was terrified he'd shut down and refuse to discuss any emotion-based topics, which would cause you to shut down as well. And you agreed with Ben when he said you deserved better if that's how Negan responded…but it wasn't just the fear of knowing for certain if Negan was worthy of you. It was also the fear of whether or not Negan thought you were worthy enough of him to talk openly with you, to compromise. If you told him that you wanted to be exclusive, that he couldn't have sex with the wives or anyone else if he wanted to be with you, would he agree? If you said you wanted to officially be with him, despite not even knowing what label was appropriate to put on it, would he also want that?
Seeming to know that you had a lot to think about, Ben stayed silent, the two of you walking side by side along the garden rows. After a few long minutes, you finally bumped his shoulder with yours and said thanks. He smiled in return and then promptly turned the conversation to more light-hearted topics. An hour later, and the two of you were laughing while walking back inside the Sanctuary and down the hall towards the kitchen for dinner prep.
As if aware of the importance of the evening, dinner seemed to fly by. Before you knew it, the last empty plates had been brought back for the dish washers, and most of the other kitchen staff had left.
A glance at your watch showed that you had about seven minutes to get upstairs to Negan's room, if you wanted to make the 7:30 deadline. Grabbing the two bowls of deer meat and veggie stew, you nuked them in the microwave and put them on a tray with a water pitcher, cups, and wrapped silverware. The remaining staff didn't pay you any mind, but Ben gave a reassuring grin and supportive whisper of "you got this" as you exited the kitchen.
Your stomach felt in knots at the prospect of what lay ahead, but if the conversation earlier with Ben had done one thing, it was to strengthen your resolve to talk things out with Negan. You were going to be assertive and honest, while also trying to be open and receptive to his responses...whatever they turned out to be.
You were so preoccupied with how to start the conversation that you didn't even pay attention to the fact that you walked past various compound members in the halls carrying food for two. Even when you reached Negan's floor, a whole hoard of Saviors could've been standing around and you wouldn't have given them more than a quick, passing nod. There were more important things to focus on at the moment than who might see you coming up here.
Especially if this goes horribly and it's the last time you're allowed up here after tonight.
Both brain and subconscious attacked the self-doubt at the same time, pulverizing it into dust so that nothing stood in the way of you and that damned box of questions.
Reaching the closed, and suddenly more imposing than usual, door, you stopped and took a few seconds to gather your wits. Inhaling deeply through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, you muttered "here goes nothing" and balanced the tray on one hand so the other could lift and give a light knock.
Rather than the expected yell to come in, there was a long silence. Sweat started to bead at the back of your neck at the thought that perhaps something else had come up and forced him to leave. Oh god, what if you had gotten yourself all pumped up only for him to not be here and…
The door in front of you suddenly opened, and the man who had blown both your heart and ability to be calm and collected to smithereens stood in the doorway wearing a drool-worthy navy tee that showed off his tanned neck and just a hint of chest hair. He gave a welcoming grin and "hiya, doll" before standing back for you to enter, which made a tiny bit of tension leak from your muscles.
Entering the office, you crossed over to his open bedroom door and entered without hesitation, sensing more than hearing him follow. Once you had reached the small dining table and set the two bowls down, placed the silverware, and poured the glasses full of water, you moved to lean the tray up against the wall.
When you turned back around, your heart leapt into your throat at the sight of him pulling back one of the chairs and waiting for you to move over and sit, so that he could push it into the table. While such gestures had at times annoyed you in the past, mostly because the idea that you couldn't do something so simple as sit without the help of a man was utterly ridiculous, you melted at such a move from Negan. You now understood that he didn't do those things because he thought you were incapable, but more as little signs of affection. It was the same reason why you had automatically prepared his food and drink as well as your own: not because you thought he couldn't do it on his own, but because you wanted to do the simple gesture for him. It was the small actions that sometimes spoke volumes, and both of you seemed highly aware of that in the other.
Settling in to eat, you realized that he had been suspiciously silent this evening. Granted, you had noticed that he seemed more relaxed in general when the two of you were alone, and you sometimes wondered if it was exhausting for him to put on that award-winning act of psychopathic comedian.
However, he hadn't really spoken since greeting you at the door, and since you were still so in your head about how the hell to start such a serious and make-or-break conversation, you hadn't been talking either. You were barely able to shovel down half of the stew, delicious as it was, before putting down the spoon and giving up. If you ate any more, you were afraid it wouldn't stay down, since stress was taking up most of the room in your stomach.
Staring at the bowl for a few long moments, you steeled your nerves and looked up just in time for him to finish the last spoonful of his own meal. He wiped his mouth with the napkin, gulped down the last of his water, and leaned back in his chair. His body gave off a relaxed, carefree air, one you wished you were able to replicate. His gaze, however, was sharp and intense on your face, as if it would give the answer to some unknown question if he stared hard enough.
Yea, he's probably wondering why the hell you're just sitting here acting all weird and awkward. Say something!
Knowing that if you stalled much longer, you'd chicken out for good, you drew a heavy breath and prepared to blurt out god only knew what.
As it turned out, you'd never know what your opening line would've been. Instead, it was Negan who beat you to the punch by taking a sledgehammer to the padlocks and throwing open the question box's lid.
"Doll," he said seriously and with no preface. "I think we need to talk."