"Rise and shine," Simon's mouth pressed against my neck. I shifted, groaning and snuggling closer to him. I didn't want to get up from beneath the covers and face reality. I was comfortable, wrapped in Simon's arms.

He chuckled, pulling away and gently squeezing my arm. I rolled my eyes and slid from the bed, stretching my limbs before gathering my clothes. I could see Simon staring at my body, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.

"I'm up, I'm up," I rolled my shoulders and sighed, dressing quickly. "Negan is going to wonder where I am. I have work to do. Can't have one of ya'll dumbasses dying, now can I?"

I yelped as Simon's palm slapped against my rear as I exited the room. I pressed my lips together, scolding him with my finger. I saw him leaning against his doorframe, arms crossed over his bare chest. I was giddy my head ducked as I hurried towards the medical room.

I was surprised. None of the saviors visited. There was nobody I needed to patch up, nobody I needed to put down. I was mainly pacing and muttering to myself most of the day, desperately hoping that Simon would at least check in with me as evening approached. I was running inventory when I heard the door open, and I could only turn excitedly, expecting it to be Simon.

It wasn't.

"Well hello to you to, doctor," Negan lightly chewed on his lower lip, looking me up and down. "You look good. And by good I mean well and thoroughly fucked."

I opened my mouth to reply, but closed it when I realized the secret seemed to be out, at least in Negan's mind. He was grinning like a shark that had just discovered its next prey.

I rolled my eyes and continued to arrange my supplies. "Yeah. Guess I do."

"Well?" Negan spread his arms wide, Lucille in hand. He stared at me, eyebrows raised. "How the fuck was it?"

"Really?" I stopped, sighing and crossing my arms. "If you want to know what it's like to fuck Simon, why don't you just fuck him?"

"You think I haven't fucking tried?" Negan smirked, letting Lucille rest comfortably against his shoulder as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He'd lost the jacket, and I watched as he squeezed Lucille's handle, the veins in his wrist prominent. "Don't assume shit, Rachel."

"I'm not," I looked down at my tools, feeling Negan's presence getting closer and closer. When I finally looked back up, he was staring down at me with that damn smile.

"I've never succeeded in getting into Simon's pants. So tell me, how the fuck was it?"

"Good," I mumbled.

"Louder," Negan began pacing. He rested Lucille against the table before me, standing on the opposite end as I continued to count and arrange my supplies. I heard the scratch of a chair against concrete, and in my peripheral I could see Negan taking a seat. I was fidgety, making sure not to meet his gaze. For a long moment the room was filled with the clinking of medical supplies and nothing else.

Finally, Negan said loudly, "Are you going to fucking talk or what? I'm not wasting my fucking time by being here, am I?"

"You are," I bit back. "Just…fuck."

"Fuck what?" Negan said. "Fuck Simon? Yeah, I fucking heard you two last night, going at it like a bunch of fucking animals. You have a goddamn fucking mouth on you when you're getting fucked, babe," he leaned forward. "What the fuck did he feel like, huh? Did he stick it up your asshole? Did he treat your pussy like a fucking lady—"

"Did you come here to antagonize me?" I slammed the last scalpel in its place, grabbing the plastic box and heaving it up. I stomped over to the small cabinet in the corner, angrily shoving the supplies back where they belonged.

Negan was laughing.

Fucking bastard!

"You're good a making jokes, now it's my fucking turn."

"Simon and I aren't a joke," I said angrily. "I happen to actually like him."

"Oh shit," Negan said mockingly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you had a fucking crush on my right hand man—"

"Is it a crush if I had his dick in my mouth last night?" I scowled.

Negan leaned back, chest heaving as he gave a shit eating grin.

Holy shit.

I could see the slight bulge in the crotch of his pants. My mouth fell open and I could hear him chuckling, his hand ghosting across his thigh.

"You sack of shit," I had to bite my lip to keep from smiling. For some reason, the shit was funny. His reaction was funny - he stared up at me with a smile and those big, puppy dog eyes.

This can't be happening.

No fucking way…

"Simon is going to kill you."

"Simon won't know, and even then, he won't fucking care. He and I have fucking talked," Negan grunted, shifting in his seat as his erection finally became uncomfortable. "He knows you fucking want me."

"Sure," I rolled my eyes, starting for the door. Negan's strong hand grasped my arm. I didn't resist, glancing over at him.

God, he's handsome…

No.

No way you want to indulge him —

Fuck!

"If you want to fucking leave, then leave," Negan slowly released my arm, looking surprised when I didn't budge. "Or you could help me out with this shit," he gestured to his erection.

I shifted on my feet, trying to quell the familiar tightness in my lower stomach. I heard Negan's belt hit the floor, followed by the sound of a zipper.

"How hard did he fuck you?" Negan breathed against my leg.

"H-hard," I mumbled, gulping.

"What did he fucking do to you. Go fucking slow so I can fucking…hear it," Negan peered up at me, eyes twinkling as he grasped his cock in one hand, thumb swirling over the leaking head. His breathing was coming out in short pants as I opened my mouth and continued, painfully aware that my legs were practically turning to jelly.

"He, uh…I put my mouth around his dick…"

"Uh-huh."

"And he came."

"Where?"

"What?"

"Where did he fucking come? On your face? On your fucking tits?" Negan grunted, slowing his pumps on his dick and meeting my eye. My gaze shifted down and I clenched my fists, though not in anger.

"My, uh, mouth," I stammered.

"Did you fucking swallow?"

"No," I tilted forward, righting myself with Negan's free hand reached out to squeeze my hip. Negan was having a hard time speaking as he thrust into his hand.

He stood, and I nearly tripped over my own feet as my back his the table. I was forced to look into his eyes as he jerked himself off, his dick dangerously close to my lower stomach.

"Keep fucking talking."

"Yeah," I breathed, glancing down once more. "He had me on my hands and knees—"

"How did his dick feel—"

"Let me finish," I whispered, standing on my tiptoes so I could gently press my lips against the shell of Negan's ear. I could feel something hot and wet brush against my stomach as I said, smiling, "It was big and thick and it fucking hurt sliding in. He had his fingers in my pussy-"

"Ah, shit," Negan grunted. I chuckled, moving my mouth from his ear to his cheek and finally, his mouth. His kiss was sloppy, desperate. I groaned when his free hand gently palmed my breasts.

He shuddered, lurching forward as he came, painting my shirt with pearls of milky white.

"You should be ashamed," I chided. Negan buried his face in the crook of my neck, letting out stammering chuckles. "This shit is fucking gross, bro."

"But you fucking like it," Negan murmured against my skin.

He was right.

Pot call kettle black, homie.

I'd come as well - probably. I could feel an uncomfortable wetness in my nether regions. I planted both palms on Negan's broad chest, pushing him away. He began to tuck himself back in, reaching down to grab his belt.

I glanced down at myself.

"I'm not leaving like this," I said. "Go get me another shirt."

"The fuck was that?" Negan grasped Lucille, testing her weight.

"I said, go get me a shirt."

"Go get me a shirt…?"

"Please. Fucking please, you dickbag."

"Language," Negan whistled returning Lucille to her rightful place resting against his shoulder. "Say shit like that again to me, and I might have to punish your ass. Just like Simon did."

"We didn't do anal," I stomped my foot, and Negan doubled over laughing. As he left, he called over his shoulder.

"In all do time, Rachel. In all do fucking time."