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“This is such a bad idea.”
Rick knew he was red in the face, permanently stained as he and Shane walked down the block from where they parked their car. There was no parking lot for this place, rented out like a rave, but Shane swore it was legit – that he was part of a group that met up every other week and just experimented and explored. Kinks established ahead of time, clean STD tests required to enter, and no questions asked. You could come and go as you pleased, you could watch, you could participate, the main goal was to enjoy yourself in a judgment-free place. Knowing his best friend and patrol partner, Rick was actually surprised when Shane even mentioned it after a lengthy discussion on how Rick’s divorce with Lori was leaving him insanely sexually frustrated. And they hadn’t even had sex in a year. ‘Pent-up’ is what Shane had called it, and then only a little hesitantly proposed that Rick join him in his bi-monthly ‘stress relief’.
Which was just a very covert way of saying orgy.
“No, this is a great idea,” Shane told him, leading the way with a little bit of swagger in his step down the thin sidewalks of downtown Atlanta. Streetlights illuminating the area more than Rick would like at that moment, knowing his cheeks were flamed red in embarrassment at what was about to happen. Shane was the worst best friend ever, there was no way Rick could do this. “It’s the best thing ta do until you get yourself back out there!”
“It’s only been a few weeks since we signed the papers,” Rick reminded him, not having the courage to walk beside him just yet. Biting at his lip nervously as he looked around while they walked the few blocks to the building that was hosting their… fuck it all, it was a goddamn orgy. With strangers. Rick couldn’t fucking do this. “Shane seriously, I can’t do this. The last thing I want to do is see your naked ass for hours on end while having sex.”
“Well you didn’t use to think so back in the day,” Shane said low and sultry, glancing over his shoulder at Rick with a look that could only be called flirty. “Back in the Academy?” Goddamn him, Rick’s whole face was probably bright red by that point. He remembered the Academy, before Lori, when he and Shane had been living together and had experimented more than once – they could never be a thing though, Shane couldn’t be tied down by anyone. Not even Rick. And Shane was insanely high maintenance as well, he’d be the first to admit it.
“I fucking hate you,” Rick muttered darkly, suddenly finding the sidewalk beneath his boots much more interesting than the dark and hungry look in Shane’s eyes.
“I know you do,” Shane said with a laugh. Slowing down enough to throw his arm around Rick’s shoulders. “Look – ya don’t even need to do anything. Just come and get a feel for it. Who knows, someone might catch your eye.”
Rick seriously doubted that.
Though, he was a little bit curious about what awaited them in the dark shadows of the penthouse. Shane just didn’t get to know that.
--
“You fuckin’ bitch,” Daryl scowled, Michonne having a death grip on his arm as they approached the warehouse, buzzing for the penthouse when they finally reached it and not letting up an inch of her strong hold on the angry redneck. “You promised.”
“I didn’t promise shit,” Michonne told him with not a lick of apology on her face, eyes looking amused and full mouth just a bare twitch from smirking at him. “Said we were going to a party and you needed to look good, and here we are.”
“Said I didn’ want ta go to yer damn sex parties,” Daryl told her with agitation lacing every syllable, anger bubbling under the surface in a simmer that was threatening to boil over. His skin itched with it, hot and too tight, he couldn’t fucking do this. Michonne knew that, he wasn’t going to get naked in a room full of people he didn’t know, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let a stranger fuck him – especially in front of his long time friend and sparring partner. The two met a few years ago at the local community gym, a few steps below the YMCA, with Daryl trying to break his hands boxing a punching bag incorrectly, and Michonne coming up to teach him how to do it right. Ever since they had been friends, and Daryl ate mat during their routine sparring sessions more than he would care to admit, due to how strong the woman was and how she always seemed to know his moves before he did. Knew Daryl better than he did most days, actually – so usually he just trusted her judgment and let Michonne lead him into new situations and circles that he wouldn’t have touched the way he grew up. Daryl was slowly learning more about himself, coming to terms with who he was and how he wanted to live his life – the kind of person he wanted to be, which was very different from the rest of his family. Like his Pa who was a sadistic SOB on a good day, and his brother who was in and out of jail more often than not and didn’t seem to care about anything. He trusted Michonne to show him parts of himself he would’ve never found on his own, usually doing what she suggested without too much of a hassle.
But he was going to have to put his foot down on this one.
“You might like it,” Michonne said airily, to which Daryl felt his whole face twitch at those words.
“No – no I won’t. ‘Chonne I can’t do this.”
“Just come watch then,” Michonne told him, the door buzzing as it unlocked and the lithe woman physically dragging Daryl across the threshold as he tried to plant his feet and not enter the building. “You said you wouldn’t mind trying it out. It’s just like watching porn, it’s really not that bad.”
“Except yer the fuckin’ star of it, I ain’t doing this! I was drunk when I said that! Don’ make me do this-”
His words made Michonne stop pulling on him, her dark eyes finding his and instead holding onto his arms with more comfort than restraint.
“I’m not going to make you do anything honey,” she said softly, making sure Daryl kept his eyes trained on her. “This is to get you comfortable, it’s something new – and I know it’s scary, but I also know you can get something out of it. I do.” Daryl bit his lip, warring with himself because – yeah, he had been curious. But being curious was completely different than actually doing it.
“I’m already uncomfortable,” Daryl told her, trying to wretch his hand free. He wanted to chew on his thumb so bad – anything to calm his nerves.
“I know, but try,” Michonne pleaded, running her dark hands up and down his arms, the long sleeved shirt feeling too hot on his skin. “This could do you so much good Daryl, just come upstairs. If you don’t like it, you can step outside at any time. Just don’t ditch me here.” Daryl nodded, a small twitch to his mouth that showed he wanted to smile at her teasing tone – but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it with how tied up his stomach was, a fucking Irish knot made out of his intestines. It just made him want to be sick, but Michonne releasing him of any expectations helped a little. He nodded his head at her, letting the smile she shined at him bright and intense ease away some of his nerves. Though the anticipation and apprehension still ate at him slowly, chewing away until he felt like he had little holes everywhere – feeling more and more exposed.
This was such a bad idea.
--
It really shouldn’t have surprised Rick that everyone still had their clothes on. Honestly, he didn’t really know what to expect when he and Shane got past the pretty woman at the door that made sure they were on the approved guest list, whoever put this together had a strict safety policy, and they entered the room with the lights dimmed. It was kind of like any other party that Shane would have dragged him to, people mingling, alcohol pouring freely, food and good conversation. It was just more shaded, richer tones to the furniture and drapes, it even appeared like the dim lights might have had a tint of color to them. But the air had this electric charge, an anticipation that licked at his skin and had his heart beating hard and heavy in his chest – they all knew what they were there for, after all.
“Relax,” Shane said, having leaned in and said it near his ear and made him flinch, only causing a broad smile to cross his friend’s face. “Not what ya expected, huh?” he was so damn smug Rick kind of wanted to hit him, the larger man obviously still laughing at his discomfort.
“More clothes than I thought there’d be,” Rick muttered, knowing his face was still red and only then felt a little thankful for the dark tint to the room.
Shane barked with laughter, “This ain’t a titty bar, Rick. We just got here, relax and meet some people. Things will start happening soon, don’t worry ‘bout that.” Rick couldn’t tell if the look he sent Shane was more glare or fear, but whatever it was made Shane smile fondly at him and pull him into a one-armed hug. “It’ll be alright, man. C’mon, I’ll introduce ya.”
And Rick let himself be steered into the small gathering of people, shook a few people’s hands, tried to smile and be polite – feeling light-headed and nervous and distracted from the blood in his veins rushing so fast, lightening his limbs and keeping a permanent burning sensation on his face. Hopefully it wasn’t too noticeable in the low lighting, though he started to doubt that would even matter with how hungrily every person looked him up and down when Shane introduced him. He knew he was fresh meat, the new toy in the sandbox, and that made him swallow hard and want to sink back until he blended in with the walls. He was certainly red enough it could be a possibility.
Though he was glad he wasn’t the only one that looked a little uncomfortable.
There were a few other people that were also tethered to someone who appeared way more confident about their surroundings than they did. A young Asian man with his hand permanently interlocked with a pretty tall girl that must have been his girlfriend, a young Hispanic looking woman with pigtails standing among a group of girls with the heels of her boots clicking against the floor nervously, and a man that had been closely following a gorgeous dark-skinned woman who was smiling at Shane as they approached where he and Rick stood.
“Shane,” she grinned, baring white teeth behind full lips and giving his patrol partner a hug, before smacking him on the arm none too gently – the large man even flinching back a bit and rubbing his bicep. “Where the hell were you all last month?”
“I got busy! Damn, woman!” Shane’s dark eyes snapped to the man with long hair that already looked like he’d been thoroughly disheveled, and then Rick found himself staring at the quiet man too. “You here with her? How do ya put up with her!?” The other man shrugged his broad shoulders, the blue denim button down doing nothing to hide the bulging muscles in his arms, or the narrow tapering of his waist that had Rick letting out a shaky breath. Because damn. He didn’t have a conventionally ‘pretty’ face, but fuck if he wasn’t gorgeous the more Rick looked at him. Angles of his face and cheekbones cut so enticingly, scruff blending in with his goatee around a thin but kissable mouth, and he even had a fucking beauty mark beneath the soft hair off the corner of his nervous frown. His pale blue eyes were narrowed even in the low light, but they were sharp and inspecting everything, and skittered to Rick’s face more than once.
And that made him swallow hard, but had the nerves settle from this unrelenting boil beneath his skin to a hot simmer – leaving a lovely burning sensation coursing through his veins and down his spine. Suddenly the electric air Rick felt before made more sense, the hungry looks people had been giving him, because now he felt it too. He wasn’t sure he could participate today, but if that man would still be here, Rick was so fucking sure he’d keep coming back.
--
Michonne elbowed Daryl hard in the ribs for his lack of response, knocking him from his daze that he’d been in. “You don’t know?”
“She ain’t that bad,” Daryl muttered on reflex, cutting a glare at his friend which she returned good-naturedly. Though there was a glint there that showed she knew what had him so inside his head, and it sure as shit wasn’t the atmosphere that surrounded them so heavily it was like Daryl was wading through water. Michonne had led them over to the guy with the slick black hair and a handsome face, who was so obviously a cop it almost hurt to look at, a wide grin on his face as she hugged him and called him ‘Shane’. Which dropped like a brick when, in true Michonne fashion, she berated him for skipping out on the last few meets. She’d bitched about it to Daryl on more than one occasion on the sparring mat, but having a face to the name would help Daryl have someone to blame for his bruises and sore joints after getting floored so many times in their sparring.
He wasn’t really that bad at sparring, Michonne was just better, and Daryl still recoiled a little bit from putting a full amount of force behind his blows and moves. Not because she was a woman or anything like that, Daryl just had these reservations behind hurting someone who he actually liked, and it always stalled his movements during their matches. Michonne’s plan was to break him of it by making sure he ate so much mat the blue fabric would get stuck in his teeth, until he actually started to try and hit her back. ‘Giving his all’ was not something that had to be violent and messy, it could be freeing, intense and euphoric. Liberating, is what she called it, and that was usually the main reason behind a lot of their adventures outside the gym.
Like this damn orgy, because fuck it all there was a lot of people here and Daryl had been following Michonne around like a damn puppy. He was not going to be left alone in this place, and everyone kept staring at him. For a while Daryl thought it was because they knew he was new and shouldn’t be there, until a particular dark haired man with thick glasses licked his lips absent-mindedly and then Daryl knew. It was hunger, the sexual charge that was still in the air and clouded every sense until it was suffocating, and Daryl suddenly felt like a slab of meat on display in a butcher shop window. He was going to get eaten alive.
But if the one doing the eating was the man standing beside Shane, Daryl could probably get on board with that.
Because shit if he wasn’t the most attractive guy in the whole damn room.
And he was staring right back at Daryl. He had looked uncomfortable too, a nervous sway to his bow-legged stance, obviously very out of place and wishing for something heavier on his hips – pointing him out as a cop too. Probably Shane’s partner, which both made hope spark in Daryl’s chest and disappointment pull at the frown on his face, of course a guy that gorgeous would be fucking taken. His dark curls were growing a little long for The Force, probably, and his salt and pepper beard was a few days past when he should have shaved. But it just made him look so damn handsome, dark and wild, clear blue eyes switching from nervous to hungry as quick as flipping a light switch – and Daryl felt it in his gut. Sending heat way far south to pool low in his groin, and he had to tear his eyes away from the man’s perfect everything – chest, arms, hips, thighs – so he didn’t make a fool of himself, swallowing back the groan that threatened to tear from his throat.
Leaving Daryl spending the past couple minutes alternating between trying to keep his eyes off the man, and having his pale gaze snap back over to him like a magnet because he couldn’t fucking help himself.
But now Michonne knew it too, from the light smirk on her face, and apparently Shane did also if that smugness indicated anything other than the guy being a jackass.
“So who’s this?” Michonne asked, eyes still locked with Daryl’s when she asked, but turning to Shane and his partner for an answer.
“This is Rick,” Shane clapped the man’s shoulder, jostling him from the heated daze he had been lost in to blink at the other man in confusion. “My partner, we’ve been friends since the academy-” Michonne slowly shifting her stance so one stiletto-ed heel stepped down on Shane’s foot would have gone unnoticed, if Daryl hadn’t dropped his nervous gaze from the blazing blue stare Rick kept directing his way. “Patrol partners, my patrol partner – we’re deputies for the County Sheriff,” he finished hastily, jerking his foot away from Michonne’s abuse but they both kept their faces carefully blank. Daryl narrowed his eyes at them, they weren’t being fucking subtle, but Michonne just smiled sweetly and slid an arm around his waist making him want to lean away from her. He didn’t trust that look at all.
“It’s nice to meet you Rick,” she nodded at the other man, which Rick did the same politely – the earlier nervous look returning to his eyes at the sight of Michonne pulling Daryl closer to her. “I’m Michonne. And this is Daryl, he’s my sparring partner at the gym.”
“I’m yer punchin’ bag at the gym,” Daryl muttered under his breath, to which he got a soft pinch in his side.
“Shush,” she scolded him, and Shane’s shaking shoulders showed he was laughing to match the light-hearted tilt to Michonne’s mouth. “Be social,” she demanded, nudging him forward and suddenly Daryl was even closer to Rick than before and he could smell his cologne and ¬God he smelled good. He knew his mouth was open – frozen on an unspoken word – and his pale eyes were no longer squinting in the faint light as he soaked in every little detail of the man before him, suddenly very aware of every inch of his skin because it itched and felt far too tight beneath his clothes. But Rick had a tilt to his lips that was some alluring blend of a smirk and a smile, and he had enough sense to hold his hand out to shake.
“He doesn’t always talk for me,” Rick told him with a hint of exasperation, a deep Southern twang that was leagues of difference from his own backwoods drawl – changing each syllable on the man’s tongue into something still far too familiar. A comforting warmth that felt like companionship, like what home was supposed to feel like, and Daryl felt himself growing more at ease beneath Rick’s clear blue eyes and soft smile that was so close to falling into a hungry smirk.
“She alw’ys talks for me,” Daryl mumbled gruffly, his pack-of-cigarettes-a-day habit very apparent in the way his words were drug through the gravel of his voice, and he would have winced at it if it weren’t for the fact that Rick still hadn’t looked away. He was literally hanging on to every word that came out of Daryl’s mouth, however few and far between they were, and his blue eyes held a spark of something in the dark storm that was clouding his gaze steadily. Daryl swallowed hard, that feeling of being preyed upon coming back full force, but this time he couldn’t help but want it – wanted to be chased down and devoured, wanted to fight back and wrestle and let that wild primal promise that laced the air take over. Fuck, it had been a minute since he’d met anyone he wanted to violate like he wanted to in that moment, staring at Rick’s full mouth and wild demeanor and knew – without a single doubt – that this man could absolutely ruin him. Could turn his whole world upside down.
He hadn’t even noticed Michonne tug Shane’s hand to lead him towards the bar, heels clicking softly and so far away Daryl didn’t have a prayer of hearing them over the heartbeat in his ears.
“So, you ain’t ever been to one of these either?” Rick asked quietly, leaning into Daryl’s space as they drifted towards the wall and away from the crowds, near some couches lining the far side beneath the windows but neither felt like sitting down just yet. Daryl couldn’t, he would just fidget and shake and he needed to be standing on his own two feet so he was grounded to something, because Rick’s whole presence was luring him in like a moth to a flame. He couldn’t fight it even if he wanted to. And fuck, was he that obvious? The way Rick curved his whole body towards him, speaking closer so the words were kept just in the space between them, made the private conversation all the more intimate. It set fire beneath Daryl’s skin, the warmth licking at every nerve ending as he tried to keep his composure at least a little bit. But all he could do was shake his head of messy dark hair, not able to find any words to answer the man verbally – shit when the fuck did he get so damn shy?
“Lot different than I thought it’d be,” Rick continued in the silence Daryl left to his first question, and it made something warm spread through Daryl’s chest, watching the other man from behind his bangs. He hadn’t made it awkward, or repeated himself, hell it didn’t seem like Rick expected anything from Daryl in that moment except for him to be there and be himself. Lack of words and all. It made him want to try harder to communicate like a normal human being, so he licked his lips and attempted to form words.
“More clothes than I expect’d,” was his genius retort, and he kind of wanted to bang his head against the wall, but the way Rick’s blue eyes lit up told him that they were going to have no problem keeping up a conversation.
“That’s what I said earlier,” he laughed, and Daryl felt the pulls of a smile start to tug at his thin lips. He couldn’t help giving into them the smallest bit, if only to see the man grin back at him.
--
Fuck how was this guy even real?
He was so reserved, even shy which did not match his appearance – dark strands of hair framing his face in an eccentric mess that Rick just wanted to run his hands through, grab onto and yank back so he could taste that long muscular throat. Shit he hadn’t expected to find anyone like Daryl in this place, hadn’t expected to find anyone really, but goddamn if every single thing this man did didn’t send a rush of something so alive through every limb and bursting within his chest. Rick got them to sit on the couch beneath the window, turned to face each other with his knee up on the cushions so he could lean in further, slowly becoming more tactile the more they chatted. They just clicked, and suddenly everything else going on in the room started to fade into the background – which was probably a good thing, because the heady change in the air was becoming more and more palpable. It was making Rick start to breathe heavy, their casual conversation turning so much more intimate as they lapsed into a comfortable silence that sparked and crackled between them.
They were touching everywhere now, shoulders bumping, knees and legs tangled, and Rick had reached out and touched Daryl more than once in light shoves and slight brushes when he talked with his hands, which made his fingers itch to trace over the exposed forearms on display in front of him. Pushed up sleeves revealing warm tan skin, thick corded muscle, and he couldn’t wait to see what was beneath the rest of the man’s clothes. Fuck, if Daryl had been more comfortable at the party they were at he’d get a chance to – except Rick didn’t want to share Daryl, which was kind of the exact nature of an orgy. He wanted to keep the gorgeous, rough man all to himself, wanted to take his time tasting him and making him fall apart beneath his hands and tongue. Arousal was a constantly running river through his veins, had been the past hour since he first saw Daryl across the crowded room, and he knew he was drowning in it as his eyes kept tracing every mouth-watering feature of the other man’s face.
Fuck it all Daryl couldn’t stop doing things with his mouth, and it was driving Rick insane. He constantly licked his lips before he spoke, nibbled on his bottom lip when he was thinking or became nervous, and god forbid he lift his thumb to chew on a hang nail. It was like he had a damn oral fixation, and Rick wanted to test that theory out in every filthy way possible.
His eyes must have been blown out black, because when he tilted his head in regard to how to best approach what he wanted to do next – which was kiss the absolute ¬shit out of the other man – Daryl’s own pale blue ones eclipsed before his very eyes. And it was so fucking hot, the list to Rick’s own lips couldn’t be ignored, but he knew that they were both on board. Some unspoken understanding had settled between them the moment Rick figured out that Daryl had issues forming words, and that his guesses for what the subtle changes in his eyes and face meant were correct, and soon they could communicate without words. He might have been assuming more than anything on his part, but Daryl was reacting to him and seemed to be agreeing with Rick every step of the way. They were at a goddamn orgy and ignoring every single person in the room except for each other, and Rick was hungry to give Daryl a number of reasons to continue to do so.
If that look in Daryl’s eyes meant he was going to deliver on any of the promises that hung in the air between them, Rick would strip right then and there if he had to. But first –
Rick’s eyes darted to Daryl’s lips, lightly parted and shallowly panting for breath too, before he tore them away and let a playful question go unasked – it was already written all over his face, Rick could feel it burning into his skin, and Daryl’s small smirk was answer enough. Rick got to taste it first-hand. Leaning in and letting out a shuddering breath before he pressed his own full lips to Daryl’s thinner ones, a caress that wasn’t just a quick peck or even a firm press held there like at the end of a first date. He moved far into Daryl’s space, the other man accommodating the ebb and flow of Rick’s mouth against his own into a hot, wet dance that spoke more than any of the words between them since they had met. It pulsed through them, racing heartbeats drowning out any sound except the soft wet noise of their mouths and panting breath – and a soft groan when Rick’s tongue started to venture into Daryl’s mouth. Rick felt on fire, burning up and uncontrollable like flames consuming a house, his hands hot as brands sliding along that thin waist to feel the firm torso beneath the layers of clothing. His other carded roughly through the hair at the base of Daryl’s skull so he could hold the man in place, angle them just right so they were entangled together and able to reach deep inside the hot cavern of Daryl’s mouth. Fuck that mouth, strong and sensual and moving like sin against Rick’s own lips and tongue and had him melting like molten lava all over the damn couch.
He didn’t know if he pushed Daryl or if Daryl had held on and dragged him backwards, but suddenly Rick was crawling over the other’s body stretched out on those plush leather couches, Daryl’s hair painting the cushions and strong hands pulling him back in roughly for another kiss as their hard bodies collided and started to move. Rick hadn’t been wrong about Daryl’s arms, they were thick as tree trunks and bracketing his head as they pulled him in and held him there, Daryl ravishing his mouth even though he was the one on bottom, and Rick couldn’t help the buck of his hips. The long hot press of his body and chest pressed so close to the one beneath him, slotting together perfectly and igniting bursts of something primal and raw that was stripping away all his inhibitions and insecurities until it was just the two of them. The room around them melting away and all but forgotten, and neither could find it in themselves to care about what was going on around them, their hands pressed to skin like brands, leaving burns and bruises and sparks of something amazing and electric in their wake. Their stubble scratched against each other with each dip and slide of lips across skin, Rick traveling across Daryl’s jaw and neck and tasting every inch of skin he could reach, Daryl’s breath panting in his ear in gasps that were turning desperate as his hands tore at clothes and reached for hot skin beneath, hips bucking up to meet Rick’s and dragging until he could feel the line of his dick against his thigh.
“Fuck,” Daryl hissed breathlessly, fingers digging into Rick’s hips and feeling the motion behind them, the drive, thrust and drag that had his head lolling back onto the plush leather couch and his body arching up into the one above him. Rick’s hands were large and hot and left humid handprints through his jeans as he spread Daryl’s legs for him, settling more into the v of his hips and pressing closer, and the way they manhandled each other – pushing and pulling and taking and giving – was so instinctual it almost felt natural. Daryl had never been this turned on in his life, rock hard and panting and wanting so damn bad he could feel a whine crawling up the back of his throat. He wasn’t this needy, he didn’t know what the fuck Rick Grimes was doing to him but he never wanted it to fucking stop.
And Rick –
Shit, Rick couldn’t believe how responsive the other man was. He was quiet and stoic standing among the mass of people earlier, and had held a careful poise about him that spoke of hidden violence and roughness that was intoxicating to witness – made people gravitate towards him. But Daryl was coming alive beneath Rick’s rough hands, skin hard and hot beneath his fingertips that sparked with the tremors that were coursing beneath each touch like electric currents. They were melding together, skin on skin sticking with sweat in the slivers revealed by rumpled clothing, a mess of entangled limbs and damp breath and wet hot touches that sunk beneath their skin to burn through their bones - until all they could feel was the heat igniting between them like a damn house fire.
He felt every hitch of breath, strangled groan and rumbled growl caught in his chest as Rick’s lips trailed down and over Daryl’s throat, fingers twitching to undo the buttons of his shirt and taste the broad chest it was stretched over. The man had unbuttoned a few earlier, or Michonne must have before they walked in, giving a teasing view of those damn collarbones that Rick continued to mouth over, teeth grazing over the curve of bone so slowly it chased the air out of Daryl’s lungs. He had stopped himself from popping the buttons open - despite how they strained against the fabric - but sliding down Daryl’s torso where he was laid out on the couch. He couldn’t prevent his fingers from digging into where the shirt was tucked into Daryl’s jeans and yanking them free of his waistline, to be pushed up and reveal the cut of his hips and the trail of hair from his navel to the front of his jeans. The path of hot kisses turned to mindlessly mouthing at the skin and breathing in deep the smell of heady sex and sweat and traces of Daryl’s body wash. His mouth was fucking watering as he continued his path down tense and spasming muscles, until his breath fanned hotly over Daryl’s crotch and he heard the other man groan loudly.
Blue eyes snapped up to soak in the view of the rough, calloused man curved up in an arch and biting his lip to hold back the sounds that wanted to escape with each heaving breath. Lifting his hips into where Rick’s hands were holding his thighs down and spread open, heavy and hot and burning through his jeans, whole body shaking with the anticipation and the self-restraint to not grab onto Rick and drag him back up - or force him down onto the one place he wanted that fucking wicked mouth. They were on the same damn wavelength, were once again speaking without words, and in full agreement with what they wanted to happen - and then Rick saw movement out of the corner of his eye and his whole body froze up. Crashing from the violent thrumming it had been in since he had shook Daryl’s hand to the tense realization of where they were and how exposed they had been the past few minutes. They were in a crowded room, and Rick had been ten seconds away from just ripping Daryl’s clothes off with his teeth.
Daryl had felt the air shift violently, pale blue eyes blown wide with the arousal that had been wracking through him relentlessly, but when he jerked his head up to watch where Rick had stilled between his legs, he quickly turned to where the other man was looking and his stomach dropped. He’d forgotten where they were, what was supposed to happen next, and just the thought of anyone else trying to touch him like Rick had been the past few minutes was making his stomach churn. Things were starting to happen around them and there were some flashes of too much exposed skin from across the dim room, and he unconsciously leaned into the places where Rick was still touching him. As if he could sink into the other man and hide from the prying eyes around them, making him swallow hard when he saw just how many people had been watching them.
It took only one shared look, clear blue eyes clashing with Daryl’s own pale ones, for them to scramble off the couch and make for the exit as fast as they could without running. Because they were both still hard as fuck, and the energy that crackled between them could be felt from where Rick grabbed Daryl’s wrist and yanked him close behind him. Sticking to the walls until they found an exit door and burst from the heated room with far too many bodies moving against each other and into a sparsely lit hallway that echoed with their panting breath and heavy footsteps.
--
The silence pressed heavy and hot around them, an electric charge like the air before a thunderstorm, when lightning was about to strike, and in the emergency lighting lining the brick walls both could see that they were still panting for breath. Skin still hot and itching, stretched too tight and flushed everywhere that could be seen, and Rick only got to glimpse the blown out darkness in Daryl’s eyes for a split second before they were crashing into each other. He hadn’t even known he moved, until he kept moving forward and Daryl’s back hit the wall - and then their hands were everywhere. Devouring each other with lips and teeth and tongue as hands tore under their clothing to rake down the heated skin beneath. Rick had a hold of Daryl by the wet curling hair at the nape of his neck and the long strands trailed down it, while the redneck growled into his mouth and started trying to peel through all the layers Rick had stupidly decided to wear. He didn’t care if Daryl ripped what he had on to shreds, as long as some skin on skin contact was in their near future.
And Daryl was really damn close to doing just that, groaning at every swipe of tongue and scrape of teeth over his swollen and over-sensitized lips, the sharp tug and solid hold of Rick’s hands in his hair, the rough drag of the coarse brick behind his back. Fuck he couldn’t get the other man out of his clothes fast enough, now that they were alone in the abandoned hallway, wanting to see and touch and taste everything beneath the dark plaid flannel and painted on black jeans. He grabbed the belt-loops of said jeans and yanked Rick’s hips into his, making sure the other man was reminded just how on board Daryl was, grinding hard and violent into the erection trapped in those sinful excuses for pants. The gasp that was torn from Rick at the rough grind broke the kiss they had been aggressively engaged in so his bright blue eyes blown out black could catch Daryl’s own narrowed gaze, quickly followed by a sound that was some primitive form of a growl and a groan that did things to Daryl in ways he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. And then Rick was plastered to him, chest to chest, thighs and hips slotted together and forcing him into the wall with a rough slow grind that had Daryl’s head lolling back into the brick expanse and his eyes rolling back in his head.
“I might need those jeans off you,” Rick growled playfully through clenched teeth and a jagged grin, as he did his best not to leer at the man pressed between him and the cool stone blocks. He spoke the words low and suggestive right next to Daryl’s ear, and was rewarded with an answering feral sound all his own. “Should I take them off for you?”
“If ya don’t do somethin’ I might kill you,” Daryl managed to get out, all gravel tones in his wrecked words, hinting at the violence he was willing to unleash – and just might, if Rick kept teasing him. Or asked nicely. Whichever came first. The combination of hot arousal and the promise of everything the man writhing against him had to offer had Rick’s brain fizzling out and burning at the edges, the younger man’s snark making an involuntary chuckle catch in his chest and break past his lips. Daryl’s eyes snapped down to his in a blaze of want and incredulous fury.
Rough hands were on his shoulders and flipping him until Rick hit the wall so hard the breath was knocked out of him. Daryl’s touch an assault on his belt and jeans as he took everything apart deftly while panting and only looked back up to Rick’s face when he plunged his hand down the front of Rick’s pants and wrapped his hand around his dick.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Rick swore, head hitting the wall as his spine arched and hips canted into Daryl’s rough palm, a smirk tearing across Daryl’s abused lips that would just not do. Despite the strokes Daryl gave him that were pure sin, Rick pushed back with everything he had and flipped them again, pushing those broad shoulders into the stone once more and kissed that damn cocky, sexy fucking tilt off the other man’s lips. Lavishing the inside of his mouth with broad strokes of tongue, grinding and sliding hot hands wherever he could reach that would keep the redneck in place until all the other could do was pant into his open mouth and respond in kind. The exchange becoming hot and wet and teetering on the edge of violent and passionate, two entirely different monsters that Rick wanted to get to know so intimately it was hard to even think straight.
And he wasn’t the only one, Daryl’s brain might as well have melted out his ears or boiled away to nothing because he couldn’t focus on anything but the wet slide of tongue against his own, tracing his teeth and lapping into the hot cavern of his mouth as he panted and desperately tried to kiss back. But Rick was relentless, slow and torturing as well as purposeful and lasting with every touch and kiss and bite he left in his wake. Daryl liked a fight, liked battling for dominance and creating a dance that gave a push and pull, give and take, on both of their parts when he was messing around with someone – but with Rick, the other man’s passion had blinded and stunned him into this trembling mess. Anticipation making him compliant and pliable as Rick continually massaged his mouth open with his own, hands finally finding buttons and zippers and sliding cloth off of over-heated skin, everything too hot and almost too much but still not enough.
Rick only broke apart to breathe heavy as he ripped his own undershirt over his head, joining the button down he’d shouldered off sometime during the last exploratory session of the inside of Daryl Dixon’s mouth. He’d also gotten Daryl’s shirt completely unbuttoned, the rednecks broad muscular chest and collarbones looking obscene in the stark lines of light cast – and then Rick was tracing those with his tongue too, Daryl’s hands diving into his wet curls as soon as his tongue lapped the skin on his chest – groaning and pulling him back to his mouth and devouring him as he rolled his hips up into the other man’s pelvis. “Ya done takin’ yer time?” he growled into Rick’s mouth, and any cocky retort that Rick could’ve answered with died on his tongue, every roll of Daryl’s hips into his own creating a rhythm that was so easy to ride. His whole body moving with each thrust, and the primal side of Rick’s brain came rushing forward, burning with the strength of a back draft.
“Think so,” he managed to breathe out, looking up to catch the glazed over gaze mere inches from his own, wondering how to phrase this next question. Fuck it had been a while.
Luckily Daryl practically glared at him as he recognized the other’s hesitation for what it was. “All that an’ you don’t – Grimes I’m gonna kill you if ya don’t do somethin’ with that dick’a yers.”
Rick didn’t hold back the chuckle that sounded heavier through the erotic air that was teetering on something darker and more wild. “Love it when ya threaten me with bodily harm,” he grinned cheekily, once again dragging out what Daryl really wanted. He wondered briefly if he could make the other man beg, and his brain almost short-circuited at the thought.
“Could kick yer teeth in if it’ll help ya move faster,” Daryl snarled back through gritted teeth. “Don’t got all damn night, Grimes.”
“Was pretty sure you were lovin’ this part,” Rick spoke the next part against his lips, prying his mouth open again and relishing in how Daryl melted against him, the feeling of skin on skin as he pressed the other back into the wall stoking the fire that was burning in his chest until it roared up again. The movements going frantic, Daryl nipping at his lips and digging his blunt nails into the skin on Rick’s back, urgency and want rushing through his veins at the sounds Rick was making – that he could feel in his chest and in his throat the other was pressed so close. One low pitched sound that was either a moan or a growl had Daryl’s hands leaving Rick’s body, not that it did one bit of difference because Rick was still plastered to him and ravishing his mouth and jaw and neck, and scrambled to get his own belt and jeans undone.
“Need you – in me – now,” he commanded, the rumble of his voice filled with so much warning and finality that Rick couldn’t even dare to deny him another minute. He knew his gaze was dark, hungry, when he nodded silently and traced one hand hot and heavy up the heaving chest beneath Daryl’s open shirt and only stilled when he reached his neck and jaw, making him look up and still his own movements.
“Open your mouth.” Rick barely even recognized his own voice, it was soft and deadly and sensual all at once, and had Daryl obeying when he saw Rick bring up his other hand to cup the side of his face, thumb tracing his bottom lip. The redneck took the digit into his mouth, replacing it with three others when Rick offered them – licking each sensitive finger and lighting up the nerve-endings there-in. The pads of his fingers, the thin-skinned sides and hard knuckles, taking them so deep and wet and hot that each curve of the muscle in his mouth drew groans from Rick’s throat like water bubbling up from the ground. Fuck his damn mouth, his tongue, all Rick could think was how that’d feel around his dick and he had to let go of Daryl’s face with his free hand – his fingers still captured tightly in Daryl’s mouth – to grip the base of his own erection and stave off the wave of arousal that almost tipped him over. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he slurred out, captivated by how much control Daryl had in that moment, even though he was the one with his fingers down the redneck’s throat. Jesus fucking Christ.
Those pretty eyes just peered at him through the narrowed gaze that was so intriguing and difficult to interpret, but in that moment was practically dripping with sex and need. How was squinting so damn hot? Rick could barely function under Daryl’s stare.
He released Rick’s fingers with a wet sound that drew another groan from Rick’s chest, trails of wetness slicking his mouth and chin and connecting to his well-coated fingers in thin lines that should -not have been so sexy that Rick had to grip the base of his dick to the point of pain. So fucking filthy. “Not yet I’m not,” he rumbled, throat already sounding wrecked, with a tiny wicked smirk tugging at his well-used lips.
Rick had spun him around faster than either could comprehend, the hand that had been around his dick seconds before pushing Daryl into the wall and tracing down his spine hot and fast. And then he was helping Daryl get his jeans around his thighs – not wasting any more time and pressing his dripping fingers between his cheeks until they were tracing his entrance. Daryl fucking groaned at the first breach, forearms pressed to the rough brick wall and head hanging low between his broad shoulders, pushing back onto Rick’s hand eagerly cause fuck they had drug this out far too long. His body took two fingers easily, it hadn’t been that long for him, and his skin was fucking ¬itching it burned so damn bad; his arousal a fire licking at every inch of muscle and bone beneath his thin stretched skin. He was going to explode if Rick didn’t get in him fast. “Hurry the fuck up,” Daryl growled, with a lilting sound that sounded way too close to pleading changing the pitch to his breathy tones – what the fuck was this guy doing to him?
“Patience,” Rick chided, which earned him a dangerous sounding growl that tore a smile across his face, the man he slipped a third finger into being far too much fun to rile up. Rick had no illusions that Daryl could do some damage to his face in a fight, best him in strength even on the deputy’s best day, but watching him fall apart and grind back onto his hand while cursing up a storm felt too good. Like playing with fire, dangerous and playful and probably damaging in a way he hadn’t even noticed yet. All of Rick’s thoughts, senses, his entire life had shifted to focus solely on Daryl fucking Dixon – turning his bones to ash and his veins to molten metal, burning and rushing through him to a dizzying inebriated extent. He would have been good with Daryl fucking him, as well as the situation that was about to happen, so long as somehow – some way – he got to sink into that heat that burned like the sun.
Daryl was ten seconds from kicking the damn man’s legs from under him and just riding him in the hallway, fucking show him patience. “Asshole,” he ground out angrily just as those long fingers found his prostate and started to rub at it and Daryl keened, “AHH - you fuckin’ asshole hurry the shit up!” He had to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood to not let out a please at the end of that, like hell this guy was going to get him fucking begging when he hadn’t even stuck his dick in his ass. Not a fucking chance, no matter what magic his fingers were doing inside him that was liquefying his kneecaps and shortening his breath.
Pulling his fingers out of the tight heat of Daryl’s body made the redneck growl again, looking ready to whip around and give Rick a piece of his mind, so Rick kept his stronger hand on the other man’s back – using his forearm as well to hold him in place while he scrambled for the little packet of lube in his back pocket that Shane had slipped him earlier. Because Shane was a dick, and Rick probably owed him a damn Ferrari after how tonight had turned out. He tore the packet open with his teeth and slicked up his dick and only paused for a second worrying about a condom, but then remembered the strict invite only participant rules and let that worry disappear like a puff of smoke and lined up with Daryl’s entrance. Knowing if he hesitated the spitfire he currently had pinned to the brick wall could easily turn this around and kick his ass if he so much as paused with the intention of doing so. Rick pushed forward, and his vision burned and singed at the edges.
“Fuuuuuuuccckk-k,” Daryl groaned long and loud, echoing the relief and satisfaction in those tones up and down the hallway, and Rick’s head was thrown back as he sunk into the heat that burned him alive, just like he knew it would. He breathed out what might have been words, mimicking the GOD yes that rang through his head, sinking slow and giving a few shallow thrusts until he was pressed flush against Daryl’s ass and he could hear the ragged breaths as Daryl breathed heavy and hot and adjusted quickly to the intrusion – grinding back against Rick’s pelvis and still bracing himself against the wall with his head down. Nails dug into Daryl's palm, mouth open and panting for breath and dripping wet because he could barely breathe let alone swallow and the fullness was making him salivate something awful. Shit it all felt too good, but Rick needed to fucking move.
And move he did, starting slow – but deep, pulling out and then sliding back in just as smooth, dragging out the motions for the first few thrusts that had Daryl groaning louder than he ever remembered being. He wasn’t really much for making noise during sex, growing up the way he had made him deathly quiet when he pleasured himself or anyone else, but he couldn’t stop the guttural sounds that were being torn from his chest. They’d barely even started. “More,” he groaned out, using the leverage he had mostly bent over to curve his spine and roll his hips back and repeating the motion continuously, like a wave caught in a bottle, creating the most tantalizing motion that moved in tandem with Rick, fucking himself deeper with each thrust and also picking up the pace. Rick had to start moving to match the redneck’s steadily increasing speed, and it was probably the most erotic thing he had ever witnessed, but Daryl was running the show from the bottom and Rick wasn’t used to that. He liked having the other in the palm of his hand, no matter how much it scorched his skin.
With a rougher thrust that punched another groan out of Daryl, primal and needy, he pushed the man closer to the wall, pulling up on his shoulder until he was more upright and his face was rested against the cool brick. Turned to the side and puffing air through his nose as the angle changed and Rick was deeper, deep and driving into him steady and so fucking good. Teeth clenched tight and struggling to change where his limbs were settled, Daryl scrambled for purchase against the wall but couldn’t get it right. He ended up elbowing Rick harshly in the chest after a few painful thrusts, ceasing the man’s movements long enough to push him off his back and out of his ass, not bothering to explain as he shucked his jeans the rest of the way and kicked them across the hall. Going right back to facing the wall, hoping the other got the picture and didn’t stop their pace.
Fuck, Rick wondered for the hundredth time that night how Daryl was even real. He plastered himself to Daryl’s back once more, nosing at the damp hair at the back of his neck and leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on his shoulder as his hands slipped down and around to his front, using one to hitch up his leg and slide back into the redneck. The angle was so much better, and Rick could feel the other’s satisfied groan with how closely he was pressed to Daryl’s back, reverberating through his shoulder blades and into Rick’s chest. His other hand was already on Daryl’s dick, tugging and pulling the way he knew he liked personally. And Daryl seemed to be enjoying it, if the continuous moans and groans that were soft and low and breathy were anything to go by. It was almost as if he was purring.
He started up again, and Daryl felt like his whole body was on fire, buzzing and thrumming with pleasure and fuck Rick was good at this. Just the right amount of rough and playful, though the red scratches on his face and chest were defiantly real and smarting on his salty skin – Daryl just couldn’t find it in himself to care. Rick pounded into him perfectly, Daryl doing his best to match the thrusts despite the iron hold Rick had on him, and it made everything all the more passionate. Euphoric and blindingly intense, giving his all in the few moments he was able to connect with someone more intently than he may have – ever. Which was really just a fancy way of saying that he was getting his brains fucked out by someone who just got him, and Daryl wasn’t sure where Rick Grimes had been hiding all his life.
A sharp change in angle had the brick wall scraping against Daryl’s face where it was shoved against the rough stone so his body was more slanted, giving him the leverage and depth he wanted most, and it didn’t mean much until the motions started dragging his cheek back and forth across the jagged surface. Rick noticed before Daryl did, the redneck not bothered by a few scrapes and bruises, only by how the other man pulled out and spun him around – ceasing their activities.
“Jesus,” Rick swore, tipping Daryl’s face to see the damage, but the redneck was panting and flushed and too damn gone to let Rick stop. He grabbed hold of those curls and the back of his neck and smashed his lips into Rick’s, bringing him back into the moment and away from the bleeding scrapes high on his cheekbone. He kissed urgent, fevered and contagious as Rick delved back into the other man, not unlocking his mouth from the tangle of tongues that Daryl would not let up on, and pushing the redneck’s back against the wall instead.
Daryl was ready for a reverse of where they had been before, knowing he’d been borderline close and ready to pick right back up where they started.
He hadn’t been ready for Rick to pick him up off the floor.
Using the wall, and his strong arms and large hands under his thighs, Rick lifted Daryl up and slid right back into place, Daryl’s head falling back against the brick harshly as he fucking shouted into the empty hall at being sat down on Rick’s dick. Every time he thought they couldn’t go any deeper, Rick slid in smooth and full and found that sweet spot just a touch further than the last position. This was it, this was going to be his undoing, he was goddamn Goldilocks and they found the ‘just right’ way to fuck Daryl against a wall.
His arms didn’t even shake, yet, but Rick let go, and pounded up into Daryl’s ass, piston-ing and chasing the breath right out of his lungs. There had been very few fucks were Daryl had felt like he was being torn apart, in a good way, but this made him want to scream. If he could breathe he probably would have in those first few minutes, but it took some deep thrusts to get him into a position where he stopped holding on to Rick, and used his own strong arms to help hold himself up with his palms pressed against the brick wall, lifting himself up a little higher so he’d stop crushing his lungs. He panted and heaved and each exhale let out high pitched keens and whines that were escalating in a crescendo of sound and desperation. His head lolled forward and back, from side to side, moving with Rick’s thrusts and not able to stay still more than a second as wave after wave of ecstasy hit him and Rick kept changing pace – both dragging this out, and staving off his own orgasm.
And Rick was a vision. Dripping sweat and slicked with it as well, chest and back heaving in the stark lights, but not giving up his momentum even a little bit. His eyes were the brightest fucking blue against his dark hair and flushed face, and Daryl couldn’t stop staring at him in between the exact hits to his abused prostate. He wasn’t sure if he was going to come or if he was going to die, either way no one was going to touch his dick at this rate - he’d never come untouched before, the lack of pressure in the one place he needed it was like torture.
“I’m gonna com’,” was the hardest three words for Daryl to actually say, let alone string together in the right order, but it made Rick snap those amazing blue eyes up to his face..
“Yeah,” was all Rick was able to say, because fuck it was a damn miracle he hadn’t come ten times over, Daryl was incredible. “Yeah,” he agreed, parroting himself and shifting to that angle he’d found before that was almost too much – a roll of his hips up into the glorious wet heat that was so damn close to heaven Rick never wanted to know anything else. He felt his pace go sporadic, primal, all instinct and rough drive – and he watched as Daryl’s powerful torso and arms held him up and went rigid as he arched, long throat and tipped back head and a fucking scream that was all pleasure and rapture was torn from him. And Rick couldn’t fucking stop, pushing the redneck over the edge and making him come all over Rick’s chest.
The way he clamped down, Rick fucked him through his orgasm and lost himself in the movements – the tight heat and overwhelming intensity that consumed everything until it burned it all away and all that was left was blinding white. He came so damn hard, the sound torn from his throat loud and archaic and something he’d never heard before, claiming and wild. He was able to hold on to Daryl as his knees started to give out, sliding them to the floor and desperately trying to gasp for breath.
Daryl stayed right there, sitting atop Rick’s legs and leaning against the wall, boneless and blissed out of his damn mind. When he inched his head forward, it rested against Rick’s own, both breathing the same air and relaxing into the other’s sated body until they were a pile of sweaty limbs on the floor. Fingers threaded through damp hair, hands clasping the nape of a neck or cupping a jaw, and then they were kissing again. All open mouths and wet lips tinged in salt and the combined taste of them, only stopping after they had come back to their senses. Rick smiled bright and ducked his head, and Daryl couldn’t help the small smile that crept across his own features, untangling himself from Rick and reaching for the discarded clothes on the floor – but not to put them on. He threw a shirt at Rick to clean up the mess all over his chest, and snagged his crushed pack of cigs out of his pants pocket and pulled one out with his teeth, looking over at the chuckle that bubbled out of Rick’s chest. “What?”
“You could at least put them on,” Rick told him with a nod towards his jeans that Daryl had just left on the floor between his splayed legs, the deputy settling against the wall until the two were sitting side by side.
Daryl scoffed at him, lighting his cigarette and taking a long drag before answering, “Ya really think they care?” he asked, blowing smoke out his nose with a deep sigh. “Having a damn orgy in there, don’ think they care about two naked guys in the hallway.”
“Might care yer smoking,” Rick pointed out with a smile, taking the cig from Daryl’s fingers and bringing it to his own lips. Daryl became captivated watching him inhale deeply, expertly exhaling a large cloud of faint white smoke and regarding the burning stick between his fingers. “Pretty sure it said no smoking outside.”
“They’ll jus’ have to arrest us both then.”
“Kinky,” Rick grinned, handing the cigarette back and catching his eyes once more. “Prison sex after we burn down the building, sounds like fun - if they catch us.”
“Yeah? Ya know all the tricks?”
“Can keep us on the run for a while, at least.”
“Like Bonnie n’ Clyde,” Daryl muttered, fighting the upturn to his own lips. He couldn't remember the last time he smiled this much, even Michonne got more scowls than the man sitting beside him, and she’d known him for the better part of two years.
“More like Butch Cassidy ‘n the Sundance Kid,” Rick said after a moment, cheeky smirk and bright blue eyes back to tracing the lines of Daryl’s face.
It took a lot to let go of his restraint – but Daryl finally gave in and let the smirk crawl all the way across his face, wide enough to show teeth, and shook his head in disbelief. “You too? No one ever believ’d me, but I always knew those two were fuckin’.”
Rick’s surprised laughter rang through the hall, and Daryl ducked his head as the smile he had let loose on his face refused to leave, bumping his shoulder with the man beside him and wondering if this is what life could be like. For him, some day. Maybe not the random fucking in the hallway outside an orgy, but this – being on this level with someone. Being this happy.
“You got plans tomorrow night?” Rick asked, looking over at Daryl and not realizing he had asked it until Daryl’s wide pale blue eyes were glued to his own. But really, Rick knew it was coming, from the moment he saw Daryl being dragged by the hand across the room earlier that evening. His life was a mess, ready to be reshaped and reformed, and it was scary as shit but the first glimmer he had seen of something resembling hope shone like a beacon somewhere inside of Daryl, and Rick wasn’t ready to let that go.
“Nah,” Daryl answered slow, forgetting the cig in his hand and suddenly throwing up walls faster than he had the entire night. “Ya sure ya want-“
“I’m sure,” Rick told him sincerely, eyes smiling though his lips were not, conveying his honesty.
“I got a bad past,” was all Daryl could come up with to say, only then coming to terms with how Rick hadn’t once told him to take off his button down shirt, or attempted to pull it off once Daryl had chosen to keep it on. He didn’t know what that meant, but it made something burn brightly in his chest – and he couldn’t tell if it was fear or anticipation.
“I got an ex-wife and two kids,” Rick answered back without blinking an eye, without missing a beat, a sad tilt to his lips preparing for a rejection he wasn’t sure was there. “So I’m sure, if you’re sure.” Their shoulders and arms were pressed tight together where they met sitting against the wall, the solidness of the other man beside him reassuring to him, and it let Daryl relax enough to nod his head in affirmation. Rick’s smile shined as bright as the Georgia sun, all teeth and blue eyes that were only trained on Daryl. “Good. Dinner?”
Daryl almost nodded, but paused – stubbing his cigarette out on the wall and finally untangling his jeans so he could reach his phone. The ‘orgy’ still had quite a few hours to go, so he smirked small and quiet when he saw the time, and shot a quick text to Michonne before turning to the man waiting expectantly beside him.
“How ‘bout breakfast instead?”