Chapter Text
They took naps in shifts during the day. Woodbury wouldn’t retaliate, probably, but they didn’t know who was in charge now, or who had been the guy who’d ordered Daryl’s death on the walkie-talkie, or what had happened to Andrea. They didn’t know anything and they’d just have to be on their toes for a while.
During his allotted naptime Daryl had switched off like a lamp. No dreams, no nightmares, no nothing. He woke up in the late afternoon and kept himself busy with guard shifts, checking his snares, tinkering with his bike.
When he went to bed -- Rick’s bed -- the other man still had an hour or so left of his shift. Daryl undressed slowly, still sore from earlier. He climbed in the bed, settled under Rick’s blanket, and was promptly lost in his thoughts.
The ‘Daryl Dixon’ was loudmouthed, sarcastic and cold. It nagged about the fear he’d felt, about the memories of the earlier incident, about Daryl considering to take Hershel up on his offer. It had his dad’s voice, Merle’s voice, the voice of his past.
The ‘Just Daryl’ was glowering at the other one. The fuck’s your problem, dude? Shit happens, it’s normal to feel like crap for a while.
Daryl blinked. Would this affect how Rick sees him now? As a weak pushover who can’t even keep other people’s hands off his junk? He’d not been careful, not alert enough, he’d not thought of walkie-talkies, a stupid oversight, and is he really itchin’ to be admired, come on, what’s with his clothes anyway? Did he invite this whole thing on himself?
I didn’t deserve it.
He had whispered it out loud, his mind fighting against selfrecrimination and accusation and ridicule. He could’ve understood if they’d just wanted to kill him. Wouldn’t’ve liked it, obviously, but would’ve understood it. Old-school justice -- a life for a life, y’know. But what they did… He didn’t deserve it, nobody ever did.
He wasn’t no pushover, either. He’d needed help, and his family had been there for him. He’d saved Rick’s ass plenty of times, and he didn’t think Rick helpless or weak because of that.
They’d all made a mistake, not thinking about walkie-talkies. Should’ve would’ve could’ve, but didn’t. It happens. Learn from it, and move on.
And fuck the clothes. He put on whatever he wanted to, and if that was a problem for some sick scumbags, that wasn’t his fault either. Can’t be responsible for someone else’s twisted fantasies. He liked to keep his arms free; easier to move, easier to use the crossbow, lighter in every way. He sure as hell wasn’t doing it in the hopes that some predator would assault him! What the fuck was wrong with some people!
I didn’t deserve it.
Daryl thought about talking about this. Wasn’t really sure it’d be his thing… true, it had become easier, somewhat, but this stuff? He could barely think it -- how was he supposed to get the words out of his mouth? He decided to wait, see how this goes. He didn’t have to make any decision on that just yet.
He felt better now, anyway. More at peace with the last 24 hours. There were things that were on him, and things that weren’t. For the first time in a long time -- hell, maybe ever -- he didn’t put everything on himself. Didn’t blame himself for every possible thing that went wrong. He knew it was wrong to always find blame in others, but he’d never really grasped before that it was just as wrong to always find the blame in yourself.
Daryl chuckled. And I thought I was pretty zen a year ago. Goddamnit, I’m a fuckin’ zenmaster by next week, the rate I’m goin’.
He must’ve dozed off for a moment. He woke up feeling Rick’s warm body move next to him, laying down by his side.
“Rick?”
“Sorry, didn’t wanna wake you up.”
“‘s alright. Everythin’ ok out there?”
“Yeah. A few walkers here and there, nothin’ special.”
Rick fell silent.
“Okay if I hug you now?”
Daryl was wide awake in a second.
“You ain’t gotta ask. You ain’t never gotta ask.” Pause. “You ain’t them.”
He put his hand on Rick’s shoulder and pulled him closer. They wrapped their arms around each other, content to be silent together. Rick’s bare skin felt like home under Daryl’s hands.
After a while, Daryl pulled back to look in the other man’s eyes.
“You ain’t them.” Daryl’s voice was gruff and firm. “I know the difference.”
***
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Wasn’t your fault.”
“Didn’t think of communication devices, did I? Sent you there alone. Could’ve come looking for you sooner.”
Daryl shook his head.
“Nah. The plan was ok. I should’ve paid more attention in the woods. Those guys, they had a reason to be pissed off, I get that part.”
Rick interrupted him, angry.
“What they did...we heard some of it, we had to take our time and wait for the right moment… they wouldn’t’ve just killed you, they… they had no right…”
“No, they didn’t. What they did ain’t your fault. Ain’t mine either. Just theirs.” Daryl turned on his back, still holding Rick, drawing him flush against him. Rick put his head on Daryl’s shoulder and run his hand lightly over the hunter’s torso, settling on his chest.
“Does it still hurt?”
“Belly’s a bitch. Hershel said it’ll be a few days. Gonna get colorful, too.”
“What about…?”
“Not really. I’m hopin’ it’s a good sign.”
Rick skimmed his fingers on Daryl’s skin, up over his throat and jaw, buried them in Daryl’s messy hair, pulled his head closer. The kiss was hesitant, just lips brushing lips, warm and loving.
Daryl touched the seam of Rick’s lips with his tongue; the other man granted him access eagerly. The kisses grew more intense, and both men surrendered to the heat, letting go of the past 24 hours, of the tension, the doubts, the fear, the overthinking. It was just the two of them. Together, like a goddamn force of nature. Thoughts were flickering on and off in Daryl’s mind. His mouth was hungrily moving along Rick’s throat, licking and nipping its way to his chest. He stopped there, rested his head on Rick, heard the excited rhythm of Rick’s heart, and chuckled in a low voice.
“What?” Rick’s voice just a bit breathless.
Daryl raised his head and looked at the other man, face amused and relieved at the same time.
“Gonna show you,” he said. He took Rick’s hand and guided it down to his crotch. “We’re back in business.”
Rick’s hand landed on Daryl’s dick, half-hard and responsive to his touch. Gingerly, Rick glided his hand back and forth, feeling the reactions through the thin fabric of Daryl’s boxers. He heard Daryl’s breath stutter. “Fuck that feels good.”
“Want me to go on?”
“Fuck yes! Just...careful, alright?”
“I’m gonna take these off, ok?” Rick rose and sat on his knees, helping Daryl out of his underwear and taking his off as well. He lifted Daryl’s t-shirt tentatively. “You wanna keep this on?”
Daryl hesitated a fraction of a second, sat up and took the shirt off and lay down again. Rick let his gaze drift all over the hunter’s naked body.
“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that,” he said, voice deep and hoarse from want. Then his anger flared all of a sudden, when his eyes stopped at the bruises on Daryl’s stomach, the bandage over the puncture wound. He felt vicious satisfaction thinking Daryl got to put the worst offender down himself, with his own hands. Justice, that’s what it was. There was no compassion. He had more towards leeches or cockroaches. Hell, those fuckers are just doing what nature tells them to; they have their own meaning in the grand scheme of things. Those assholes, though… they serve no purpose on this earth. Rick felt zero remorse for having ended them. Everybody’s better off this way.
Daryl quirked the corner of his mouth into a quick half-smile. “Don’t see it myself but ‘m glad you like it.”
Rick put the angry thoughts away and caressed his lover from thighs to shoulders, lowered himself down to feel his skin against his own, careful not to weigh the other man down too much, not to put pressure on his battered stomach. He moved back downwards, lightly kissing him all over; he wanted to give him new touch sensations to replace the ugly ones from his memory.
When Rick reached Daryl’s dick, it was already hard as a rock, and the man was trembling, hips giving tiny jerks. He gave the head a friendly lick, and got a very satisfying moan of pleasure in return. He wrapped his fingers around Daryl’s hardness and gave a tentative tug. Another moan. He smiled and lowered his head, licked the sensitive head again, then took it in his mouth and sucked gently. He took his hand off and settled it on Daryl’s thigh instead. He sucked as much of Daryl inside his mouth as he could, rubbed the thick vein with his tongue, and felt Daryl shiver uncontrollably. He wanted to make Daryl feel good, and do it in the gentlest way possible, and this felt like the correct way to go about it. Mouth full of the rock-hard, velvet-soft cock, Rick smiled and hummed. Daryl’s hips were twitching and Rick didn’t mind, the idea of Daryl fucking his mouth was hot enough to make his own cock leak precum… but he’d take care of that later, this was about Daryl now.
Rick loved every minute of it. The feeling of Daryl’s hard cock heavy on his tongue. The taste of precum. The quiet moans and whimpers the archer tried so hard to damp down, biting the side of his hand. The hips jerking, evoking all sorts of visions about other kind of possibilities.
Daryl gripped Rick’s hair. “Rick…”
The older man took Daryl’s cock in his hand and sucked on the head. Daryl came with a low growl, body shuddering. Rick licked him clean and stroke his thighs and hips slowly and soothingly. Daryl’s muscles relaxed; for a few heartbeats nothing happened.
Daryl still had his fingers tangled in Rick’s hair. He pulled lightly. “Come here.”
Rick crawled up to kiss him. Their kisses were leisurely and exploring.
“Can taste myself in your mouth. Fuck, that’s hot,” Daryl purred. His hand traveled downwards; Rick’s cock twitched like crazy, trying to reach the approaching hand. Down and down the hand glided with curled fingers and scraping nails. Rick whimpered in Daryl’s mouth.
“Want me to touch you?” Daryl asked gruffly.
“Fuck yes, touch me,” Rick panted, raising his pelvis slightly. “Please.”
Daryl let out a guttural sound, low and wild, and attacked Rick’s neck, scraped with his teeth, sucked and licked. His hand gripped the other man’s touch-starved, leaking cock and pumped, up and down and up, a few times. He lowered his hand, let his fingers roam on Rick’s balls. He raised his head and looked into Rick’s eyes.
“Wanna taste ya. That ok with ya?”
Rick’s answer was a turned-on grunt, “Mmhm.”
Daryl crawled backwards and settled between Rick’s legs, but when he bent down to kiss the tip of Rick’s cock, it was too much for the battered stomach. A low rumble of dissatisfaction came out of his mouth. Rick frowned, then got the problem.
“Wait,” he said. “Let’s try this.”
He stood up and guided Daryl to sit on the edge of the bed. Rick turned towards the archer and supported himself on the top bunk. He looked down just in time to see Daryl take his cock in his hand, gather a drop of precum on his thumb and spread it down along the thick vein. The man licked the tip experimentally, kissed it, twirled his tongue around it, run his tongue down to the root and back, took the head in his mouth, and a soft, pleased groan vibrated on Rick’s cock.
Rick swallowed. To feel Daryl like this, to see him like this... in front of him, taking in his cock, one hand gripping his hip so hard it’d leave bruises, the other still pumping, no, letting go, sliding his fingers further down on Rick’s balls…
The ex-deputy wondered how long he’d last -- the sensation, the view, was too enticing. In spite of Daryl’s position, there was no doubt who was in charge of the situation -- a heady experience for Rick. His thighs trembled, his loins were on fire; he moaned, too loud in the silent cell block but he could’t stop it, the pleasure was too intense. He raised his other leg on the bed to get more support, and maybe for other reasons as well, reasons he wasn’t capable of analyzing with lust clouding his mind.
Rick threaded his fingers in Daryl’s hair. The younger man was teasing the slit with his tongue; Rick’s hold on his hair turned to a tight grip and he gave a stuttering groan. The hunter chuckled, a low, uncharacteristically self-confident rumble, which did all sorts of things to Rick -- turned him on even more if possible.
“Like this?” Daryl’s question was light, flirting even, and it came to Rick all of a sudden, clear as day, that Daryl needed this, the sense of control, of being in charge of this particular kind of situation. Rick let his fingers loosen up a bit, rubbed Daryl’s scalp gently, struggled with a surge of love for this man, and couldn’t fathom how he hadn’t realized it way sooner. He happily gave the power to Daryl -- it didn’t lessen his pleasure, oh god it so didn’t!, and it was probably healing for the archer.
“Love your mouth on me.” The husky sound of his voice surprised Rick himself, and Daryl’s fingers dug even deeper into Rick’s hip, and the pain triggered a whine, and Rick’s cock jumped. Daryl chuckled again; he licked his way to the root, further down to Rick’s balls, sucked on the skin tentatively at first, then, encouraged by the happy whimper, took more and more into his mouth.
“Fuck, Daryl… I won’t last long…”
Another chuckle; it resonated and vibrated through Rick’s testicles and all around him. Daryl straightened himself and looked up. Their gazed locked, Daryl’s one hand still gripping Rick’s hip, the other one slowly caressing the underside of Rick’s thigh, back and forth, and his fingers kept brushing Rick’s buttock, somehow venturing closer and closer to--
Rick swallowed again. Daryl’s eyes were fiery, and he’d never seen anything so wild and beautiful as this man with his shaggy hair, alert, burning eyes, and kissable lips. The hunter brought the adventurous hand to his mouth and sucked in the middle finger. Sucked it thoroughly, wetting it carefully, all the while eyes boring into Rick’s. The ex-deputy shivered, the hand grasping the top bunk for support gripping the edge like a lifeline.
Finally Daryl lowered his gaze. He let go of Rick’s hips, curled his fingers around Rick’s twitching and leaking cock, put his mouth on the tip, and sucked and pumped, leisurely, taking his time, enjoying. The other hand traveled back on the underside of Rick’s thigh. Fuck, can anticipation actually kill? Rick thought, delirious, heart beating like crazy. Daryl’s fingers weren’t hesitant at all, they found their target, and Rick gasped, his leg buckled, when the wet fingertip brushed over his tight, puckered hole.
The sensations were overwhelming. Daryl’s hand and mouth on his cock, his finger gentle but relentless against his hole, brushing, brushing, pressing. Rick’s fingers were tangled in Daryl’s hair, tight; his other hand, white-knuckled, gripping the edge of the top bunk. Both hands holding on for dear life, trying to keep him from collapsing from pleasure.
The muscle yielded under the insistent finger. Daryl was in him. Rick’s mind tried to grasp the concept. The intimacy of it was overpowering -- Rick wanted to feel more of it. All of it.
Daryl sank deeper. His mouth worked on Rick’s cock and the man was too far gone to pay much attention to the burn and unfamiliar discomfort. The idea of Daryl’s finger in his ass was making his head spin; his channel accepted the intrusion, and Rick thought he’d lose his mind when he felt Daryl’s finger retreat, push back, and start to fuck him, slow and unrelenting. Everything intensified hundredfold as the pad of Daryl’s finger brushed over a bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves everywhere. Rick couldn’t help but let out a small, startled cry; his hips snapped forcefully, drove his dick deep into the hunter’s mouth.
Daryl pulled his head back, coughed once, looked up, saw Rick staring back at him, mouth slack. Under his hands, Rick’s body was shuddering, precum dripping constantly and his channel clenching and unclenching as Daryl kept fucking him, rubbing on his prostate. Daryl felt a smirk rise on his face, corners of his lips quirk up in a small, victorious little smile. He made this happen to Rick, he made the cool, collected leader lose his composure like this. He pumped Rick’s cock with his hand, rubbed on the small nub inside of him, and heard Rick breath an uncontrolled string of ohgodohfuck. He closed his lips around the head, sucked once, and Rick whimpered and came, his channel convulsing, hot and tight, and Daryl’s mind blacked out just a little as he imagined how that would feel on his cock. The taste of Rick filled his mouth, fired his taste buds. He swallowed and swallowed, moved his hand on Rick’s hip to help him stay standing, the other man’s legs trembling and boneless after the orgasm. He carefully withdraw his finger out of Rick’s body; the tight hole was trying to keep him inside, and wasn’t that a thought to blow your fuckin’ mind!
He helped Rick crawl back in the bed. They lay there facing each other, waiting to catch their breath, hands lazily brushing waists, arms, shoulders. Daryl had a second to think. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about himself just now. Being so… active. Was it good? Was it ok for Rick?
But Rick had said he’d tell Daryl if the archer did something that was uncomfortable to Rick. He’d promised. And Daryl either believes him or not, so which is it? Rick hadn’t said anything, he’d seemed to really like what Daryl had done to him.
And Daryl had liked it. He’d liked himself like that -- making things happen, being an active partner inside the cell as well as outside of it.
“That was incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard.”
“Yeah?” His tone was a mixture of disbelief and pride.
“Yeah. You’re incredible.” Rick’s hand was cupping his jaw, brushing his cheek with his thumb, so gentle and soft. “And I love you.”
Daryl’s heart gave a curious little jump. Would there be a time when I’ve grown so used to hearing this, to knowing this, that I’d hardly pay attention to the words? Perhaps, but it fuckin’ ain’t gonna be this day. It felt just as fresh and miraculous and amazing as the first time.
“Love you too.” It felt amazing to say it, too. To be allowed to voice it. He’d been surprised to learn how easy it was to say once you got it out the first time.
Rick leaned in to kiss him lightly on the mouth.
“Let’s try get some sleep, ok?”
***
Morning came too soon. Especially as it came with Glenn barging in the cell and yelping “Good God, I don’t learn, do I?” and backtracking swiftly outside the heavy curtain.
Ok, so the blankets had fallen down and there was probably way too much skin and hands and bodyparts visible here and there but Glenn would just have to get used to getting eyefulls or learn to fuckin’ knock! Daryl rubbed his eyes, just a bit miffed.
Rick sighed. “Glenn, what’s up?”
Glenn’s voice came outside the curtain. “There’s some people who wanna meet you both.”
“What?” Rick said, confused.
“Andrea’s outside the gate. Says Daryl invited her so here she is.”
“What?” Rick repeated, and turned to face Daryl.
Daryl ignored the question. “Anyone else there?”
“According to Merle, there’s Milton and Martinez, and some guy called Tyreese which Hershel says he knows. Wasn’t he the guy Daryl talked about?”
Daryl got it, and almost smiled. “I told Tyreese he oughta maybe go to Andrea. I said she knows where to find us if she wants to talk to us.”
Rick was still watching Daryl. “What’s your take on this Tyreese?”
Daryl gave a kind of a half-shrug. “He could’ve tried to double-cross me any number of times but didn’t. I don’t get a bad vibe from him.”
Rick kept looking at him, thinking. He nodded. “We’ll go with that.” He turned back to the doorway. “Glenn, let Andrea and Tyreese in and take them to cellblock D. We’ll talk there. The other two guys will have to stay outside for now. Me and Daryl will be there in a few.”
They heard Glenn walk away. Daryl sat up and run his fingers through his hair, over and over again.
“Didn’t think she’d come, though.”
“But it’s a good sign, right?” Rick’s voice, so hopeful.
“Andrea’s ok, I guess… Tyreese too. Don’t know about the two other guys but Merle knows them, we should get his opinion.” Daryl noticed his tone change to defensive. “Merle’s shit most of the time, don’t think I don’t know that. He ain’t stupid, though.”
“I know he isn’t. If everything goes well with Andrea and Tyreese, we’ll get Merle involved. At least as an advisor -- I’m still not convinced he can hold his mouth well enough to be there for negotiations.”
“But I can?” Daryl’s mouth twitched, amused.
“Yeah, well, don’t know about that--,” Rick got a well-aimed elbow in his side and chuckled. Serious again, he continued. “I just don’t give a shit. I ain’t negotiatin’ nothing without you there with me.”
Rick sat up, got up, and started collecting his clothes.
“Come on, get dressed. We’re building something new here.”
Daryl wasn’t sure if Rick was talking about the two of them, together, or whatever cooperation they’d negotiate with Woodbury.
He had a good feeling about both, however. He heard Li’l Asskicker gurgle in the cell nearby; he smelled coffee in the common area; there was Carol’s warm voice and Beth’s light step.
He had a good feeling about this day.
*****************THE END*******************