Chapter Text
Daryl dumped Paul carefully as he could on the stairs of his trailer. "Stay there," he ordered. Not like he was going anywhere soon anyway.
Since Paul had the annoying tendency to martyr his own needs, Daryl had been storing a couple necessities without telling him. He pulled the couch from the wall and grabbed the Hello Kitty handbag he used to hold a first aid kit as well as the bottle of questionably distilled alcohol one of the Saviors had tried to smuggle into Alexandria some time ago.
Okay, so maybe some things he hid for himself.
He grabbed a flashlight from the kitchenette and squeezed back outside. Paul was leaning in the doorway. Daryl kneeled in front of him. "I can get Siddiq?" he offered again, knowing Paul would shoot it down again like he had at the gates. He didn"t doubt he could sew up a wound. He just doubted he could stay his hands while sewing up Paul .
"No."
“Don’t come cryin’ ta me when you’re not so pretty after this.” Daryl popped the flashlight in his mouth and dug through his bag.
“As long as you still like me, I’ll be fine,” Paul said.
Daryl frowned. He motioned for Paul to take the flashlight, moving his hand to shine light right where he needed it. It left Daryl’s face in the shadows as he worked.
He’d always appreciated the shadows. Allowed him to let himself go, just a bit.
His voice cracked as he said, “You know I like you, right?” He untied his shirt from Paul’s waist. Dried blood crusted it to his skin and he eased it free.
Paul hissed. “I had figured as much.”
“Don’ be a smartass. This doesn’t look so bad.” The wound was clean, Paul’s skin warm under his fingers, not hot and diseased. The knife must have missed anything vital. He’d have to rustle up some antibiotics in the morning, though, his stash didn"t run that deep.
“Doesn’t feel so bad. It doesn’t!” Paul fought as Daryl shot him a look. “Everything else hurts. I was thrown around that truck pretty good.”
Shit. Daryl dug around the bag for a couple pills. He had painkillers tucked in the side pocket.
“Cute bag.”
“Found it for Asskicker. Take these.”
Paul pushed his hand back. “No, save it. Someone else will -”
“You fuckin’ idiot, you were stabbed an’ in a rollover today, take the fuckin’ asprin!”
Paul swallowed them with no further argument. Daryl handed him the hooch to wash them down. He promptly choked on it. “What is this?”
“Sanctuary gin. Hold still.” Daryl reached behind Paul to get the rag from his back pocket, soaked it in liquor, and gently pressed it to the wound. Paul took the bottle back. He poured a bit over his wound after taking another drink.
Daryl drank some as well before putting it aside. It burned all the way down. He shook some stiffness from his hands.
Paul stayed still as Daryl started to sew him up; the flashlight jumped in his hand, but only a little.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Daryl mumbled.
“You’re already doing it.” Paul’s voice was thick.
Daryl leaned in closer. He couldn’t look up. “I want so damn much of you. Thought I lost you today - thought you left.”
“Why would I? Daryl?”
“Everyone leaves.”
“Daryl. Look at me.”
Daryl glanced up from his work for a moment. Paul cupped his face in his hand and Daryl looked back down.
Paul sighed. “I’m not leaving. Well, barring kidnapping. I’m here.”
Daryl’s hands trembled. "How can you say that for sure?"
Paul shrugged. “I haven’t let you push me away yet. I’m pretty tenacious.”
Daryl swiped a lone trickle of fresh blood from Paul’s stomach. “Sorry.”
“About what?”
Daryl shrugged. He double knotted the last stitch and checked his handiwork. The bleeding had stopped but Paul was still covered in it. He packed his supplies and stood. "C"mon. Gotta clean up."
He dragged Paul up and followed close behind. Paul insisted on walking around to the shower on his own. His movements were stiff and wooden. Daryl started to help him with his pants.
"I"m starting to think this is all a ploy to get me naked," Paul joked as he brushed Daryl away.
"Yeah, I orchestrated it all." He knelt to untie Paul"s boots instead. "Step."
Together, they got Paul undressed and into the shower. He shivered under the water but turned his face toward it. Daryl watched him wince as he rinsed out his hair.
Daryl threw his remaining clothes in the pile with Paul"s and joined him. He reached around Paul for the soap, flinching when Paul leaned back into him. He cursed himself and wrapped his arm around his shoulders but it was too late.
Paul turned in his arms, brows furrowed. "Do you not want me to touch you?"
"No." Daryl swallowed hard. "Naw, ya don"t have to."
He fucking tilted his head, looking so sweetly up through his eyelashes. “And if I want to?”
“I -”
“Yeah?” Paul asked, hands hovering over Daryl’s chest. They were still pressed tight together, knee to stomach, but the promise of hands felt more intimate - too intimate.
“Yes,” Daryl breathed, no louder than the water trickling from the rig above them.
Paul still would not touch him; his hands ghosted a breath away from Daryl’s shoulders. “Are you just saying that?” Daryl shook his head and Paul grabbed him.
His hand wove around Daryl’s head, pulling him down. Daryl kissed him, hard enough he felt bad about it.
It wasn’t near enough.
Paul thought so too, as his hands trailed along Daryl’s body. He pulled him close; Daryl let himself be reeled in, found anchor on Paul"s smooth skin.
“Ouch.”
“Shit. Sorry.” Daryl pulled back, hands up.
“No, no, no,” Paul muttered, pulling him back flush. He guided Daryl’s hands to his hips, frowning when Daryl held him like cracked fabergé.
“I have an idea,” Paul said as he flattened his hands against Daryl’s chest. He was still until Daryl nodded. With a sideways grin, Paul smoothed his thumbs over Daryl’s breastbone, fingers bouncing over his nipples.
Daryl gasped, pressing his lips to Paul’s to hide it.
Paul nipped his lip and pushed him back. He gently guided Daryl around, one hand pushing his chest and the other creeping over his shoulder.
“I want to touch you. So fucking bad.” Daryl shivered, pivoted in the soggy grass as Paul guided him. “I need you to know that. So if I have to show you, I will.” His beard scratched Daryl’s back as he kissed across his shoulder blades. “I’ll show you again, and again, and again.”
A shiver ran down Daryl’s spine and took root behind his cock.
Paul"s hands were gentle and sure around Daryl"s waist, pulling him back against him. They were strong and sure and so perfect, circling his hip bones as his lips traced along the back of his neck.
He teased his fingers across Daryl’s thighs, raising goosebumps down his legs.
Daryl was so hard he was shaking.
The shower sputtered pathetically, hiccuped on an air bubble and splashed around them.
“Please,” Daryl muttered.
“Again.” Paul’s fingers traced the crease of Daryl’s legs, scratched up his stomach.
“Please.”
Paul bit his shoulder.
“Paul, fuck!”
Paul’s laugh reverberated in Daryl’s chest, feeling like hysteria as it echoed where his lungs once held air. He was going mad, he would be certifiable unless …
… Paul finally grazed his dick, so delicate, barely there.
“Ain’t a damn daisy,” Daryl said, voice too thin to be truly snarky.
“No.” Paul stroked him with a firm hand and Daryl lost his breath again. “You’re a prickly thistle sonofabitch.” Two hands, too much, too much. “Come on.”
He squeezed a pitiful moan out of Daryl, one he could not be bothered to care about.
Daryl reached back for Paul’s hip. His cock bumped against his ass and oops, there went that embarrassing noise again.
Paul shifted his hips and Daryl lost it. He pressed back against Paul, swinging between letting him rut against his ass and pull his cock.
Paul was panting, gasping behind him, he dropped his head to Daryl’s shoulder and sandwiched him with a hand over his skipping heart. Daryl pulled him closer, fingers digging into the meat of his ass.
Daryl was so lost he was surprised by his orgasm. Paul moaned in appreciation, stroking his jumping cock until it was too much and Daryl pushed him off.
His legs shook. Paul’s breath rattled in his ear as he leaned back against his shoulder. Paul’s hair was stuck to him, he brushed it out of the way and reached back between them, jerking him off efficiently.
Paul dug sharp fingers into his ribs as he came on the small of Daryl’s back. Daryl shivered, pleasure deeper than his own settling comfortably in his bones.
The water, once cold, felt positively frigid as Daryl worked their boneless molasses bodies under the spray one last time.
Paul traced a mindless pattern up Daryl’s arm and over his shoulder as Daryl snagged them towels from the cooler they had outside the shower curtain. He wrapped Paul in the least pathetic one, careful as he dried him off.
Paul hummed at something interesting over Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl could not think of anything more interesting than the curve of Paul’s neck as he leaned into his hands. He asked what it was anyway.
“Neighbor’s up. Don’t think we’ll be a secret much longer.”
“Ain’t never been.”
Paul smiled.
Daryl kissed it right off him. “Let ‘em talk.”
Paul brushed Daryl’s hair from his face and kissed him so hard no cold shower could sober him up.