Irresistible Danger

A Midnight Snack

Author's Note: Thank you so much for y'all's support! I cherish each and every one of you, and thank you for being patient with my slow updates. Please don't forget to click that "vote" star if you enjoy the chapter <3

Enjoy ;)

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The two of you moved in sync around the kitchen, as for the first time in a while you were demoted to assistant chef, while Negan took over. You helped him fetch needed items, getting a wooden spoon out of a drawer here and pulling out some spices there. He took his cooking skills seriously, gently barking out orders when he needed help, while you obtained the proper items and observed his sauce-making process with interest. When he seemed to have things mostly under control, you grabbed two place settings, arranging the silverware and glasses of water at the kitchen island sitting in the middle of the tiled room.

Leaning a hip against the counter next to the stove, you watched as Negan stirred the sauce in a steady, counterclockwise direction. He looked sexy as hell, and you wondered why more men weren't so open about their cooking abilities. Didn't they realize how attractive it was to watch a man, who usually tried to act tough and serious, delicately dice garlic and add just the right amount of spices? Or maybe it was just attractive to you? Either way, it was arousing to watch.

He brought the spoon up to his mouth, tasting the sauce and licking his lips. Considering the flavor for a moment, he then grabbed the black pepper from the counter and grinded some into the pot, before resuming his steady stirring. Your stomach gave another growl at the tangy, delicious smell of the sauce, and you didn't hesitate when he lifted the spoon out of the pot again, this time bringing it towards you. His other hand cupped underneath it, ready to catch any drops that might fall.

He put the end of the spoon up to your mouth, and you tasted the sauce, licking your own lips and giving a nod of approval.

"Holy crap, that's delicious!"

He smiled in response, pleased with your reaction. "Told ya spaghetti is my fucking specialty, doll."

With that, he grabbed the two plates of noodles, which you had reheated in the microwave, and spooned a liberal amount of the sauce out on top. Once the plates were settled back onto the counter, he tugged off the still-spotless apron and wadded it into a ball before tossing it back in the general direction of the neatly folded pile. You couldn't even complain, not when your stomach was dragging you towards the food that awaited.

The two of you took your plates over to the island and settled side by side on the barstools, grabbing your forks and eagerly digging in. You had no clue why Negan even bothered getting trays of food from the kitchen, since he was a damn fantastic cook on his own. You internally grinned at the thought of him coming down and helping you cook on a regular basis. Course, that probably wouldn't be a very smart idea, since Ben might really lose his shit if Negan tried to take his spot as your assistant.

Now that your hunger pangs were lessening, you broke the silence with a question. "So, was it you who also made the chocolate cake?"

You glanced over in time to see his lips curl up slightly before he took another bite. "Nah, much as I'd love to take the credit, that was Ben and Simon."

You almost toppled right off the barstool at that. "Ben? AND Simon?"

"Yea," he said around a mouthful of spaghetti. "I think it was mostly Ben, but Simon said he 'helped out' by taste testing it when it was done, to make sure it turned out alright. I swear he's gonna turn into a fucking cake one of these days, with that sweet tooth of his."