Chapter Text
Daryl woke up to bruises on his skin.
His eyes fluttered open and he stretched in bed, making various noises. Beside him he heard a huff and an arm tightened around him, bringing him closer. It all falls together in his mind, fitting perfectly. He turned in the arms and smiled slightly, seeing a still half asleep Rick. The man's hair is ruffled from the pillow and his stubble is overtaking his face but Daryl doesn't think that he's ever seen anyone else so perfect.
Rick moved closer and pressed a kiss to his neck, his teeth peaking out to nip at the skin. Daryl hissed.
"Sorry," The man said sheepishly, lips smoothing over the bruise that he'd sucked there yesterday while they'd been pressed up against the wall.
Together they point out each other's bruises and hicky's and start laughing because they certainly aren't teenagers anymore, especially not Rick but they can't seem to keep their hands off of each other.
At one point Rick pins him to the bed and starts kissing down his neck, hoping to entice him to stay. "Quit it, I got shit to do."
"Push it off till later," Rick's teeth scraped against his abdomen and his stomach muscles twitched in response.
"Rick," Daryl warned.
"Hm?" The man dipped down further and sucked a mean mark into the hallow of his hip.
Daryl barely made it to work on time that morning but he supposed that he didn't mind these types of bruises.
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Eventually Shane really does take Rick to that baseball game that he'd promised. The friend had already taken Rick out for drinks with him and Abe but this is more important. This had been a tradition for them at one time.
Shane buys both tickets even if Rick does grumble about it. The man still hadn't managed to snag a job. He'd gone to a few interviews but none of them had gone anywhere. As soon as Rick explained that he'd gone to prison for assault charges the employer's faces had tightened and a fake smile had been plastered on for show.
The two friends sit on plastic, hard seats but there's smiles on their faces. Shanes' is large and lopsided as usual and Ricks smile is more understated and subtle. Years ago they had sat in this stadium together and they'd poked fun at one another, teasing about how Shane couldn't keep a woman for more than a month and of how Rick was whipped with his own. Now they're silent, eyes watching the game carefully.
"You could'a brought the kid." Shane spoke after awhile.
Rick bristled, "Don't call him that."
The other snorted, "What, I ain't allowed to make jokes 'bout how much younger he is? I wouldn't be me if I didn't. You're too easy to get a rise out'a."
That get's Rick to lighten. "No, I guess you wouldn't. And he's working. Can't say I can blame for not wanting to take the day off. We're not exactly swimming in money."
"How many job interviews is this gonna make?"
Rick frowned, thinking in his head. "I'd say.. Seven?"
"Where for?"
"It's down at the Greene farm, being a farm hand."
Shane grinned, "Farmer Rick, huh?"
A small smile crept onto his face as well, "Farmer Rick," He echoed.
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The beep of the microwave sounded out into the apartment and Daryl snatched up his TV dinner from inside, hissing when his finger tips touched the hot plastic. He carried it like that, hissing and swearing up a storm.
"You know, you're supposed to let it set and cool down before you try and hold it."
Daryl frowned, "Fuck you, Grimes."
The man's smile twitched, "Maybe later."
The younger one gaped at him, blinking as Rick simply stood up from the couch and took the hot container from Daryl's hands to place it on the cheap wooden coffee table in front of the couch.
They both had microwavable meals, complete with a dessert and everything. Daryl's was chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans and a brownie while Ricks meal was turkey, mashed potatoes, corn and a brownie. They both studied their meals for a moment before looking at each other and back to their food. In a matter of minutes they'd shoveled the green beans onto Ricks plate and the corn onto Daryl's.
It felt familiar.
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Daryl was woken up at three in the morning on the anniversary of Lori and Carl Grimes' death.
It'd happened by chance, Daryl rolling over on the bed and waking from not feeling Rick beside him. He pushed himself up, frowning at the clock. He sighed at the time and wondered why Rick was absent from the bed.
He eventually found him out on the fire escape. It was a chilly night, breezy and Rick was standing there in his boxers and a t-shirt, staring at the street.
"Rick?"
The man didn't answer.
"Rick?" He repeated. "The hell are you doing out here? Shit, do you know what time it is?" He finally went up to the man and touched at his back, fingertips sliding over the tense body and Rick turned sharply, eyes blood shot and red rimmed.
"Shit," Daryl breathed out. "Rick.. "
"I'm sorry," Came a murmur. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I'll be there in a minute." Daryl didn't move and it made the older one sigh, one hand coming up to rub over his face. "I mean it, Daryl. Go back inside, I'm alright. I just needed some air."
"You and I both know I ain't buying that."
It took Daryl nearly twenty minutes to coax Rick back inside and then nearly another twenty until the other finally whispered out that this was the anniversary of Lori and Carl's death. They spent the night on the coach, Rick lounged out with his head in the younger one's lap. He stroked through Rick's hair until he fell asleep and gradually, he did as well.
In the early morning neither of them had gotten much sleep but Rick had put on his clothes anyways and had insisted on leaving. It was only six in the morning but Daryl followed. It was the first time since Rick had been locked up that he got to see their graves.
Daryl watched as he crumpled to his knees when they found the headstones in the graveyard. The mans fingers curled into the grass, digging into the dirt and his head hung low. Daryl stood back, his heart aching for the family; The two graves and the lone man that was left behind. He could hear Rick muttering after awhile and his throat got tight after he realized that he was talking to Lori and Carl and he stayed back, knowing that he shouldn't intrude.
After an hour they walked back to the car and Daryl reached over, intertwining their hands together.
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On that day Rick went to work. Daryl had asked him if he was sure a million times but he was determined to go to work despite the day on the calendar. Daryl had a late start to his own day for landscaping with some scheduling changes and so he dropped Rick off, watching as the man walked off towards the Greene house.
The Greene farm had been a blessing and Rick had been working there for awhile now. Maggie was strong and she knew what she wanted and Rick always listened, always ready to work. They made a good pair, especially when Herschel was overseeing them.
He wasn't sure what had happened that day but when they both got home Rick was a bit lighter. He wondered if it was because of Herschel. Rick and Herschel had always gotten along well, always had a good understanding of each other and he considered that it might be over similar grief. They'd both lost a wife, both lost a son.
That evening Rick pulled a book out of a box. Lori's book. Daryl watched from the doorway with fond eyes as Rick smoothed his fingers over the beaten cover and gave a small smile before placing it in the book case in their room.
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Things were okay for a little while. They settled into their routines, both bringing home paychecks now but trouble eventually knocks at their door.
It's nearing midnight when it happens and they're both in bed. Instinctively Ricks arm tightens around him and the older one is pushing himself up onto his elbows, eyes narrowing in the dark.
Daryl grumbles, "Who the fuck is knocking.. Midnight," He repeats when he sees the clock. "You've gotta be shitting me."
Rick stiffens and pushes Daryl onto the mattress when he tries to get up. "No, I'll check."
"Rick-"
"No. Stay in bed." Rick's eyes are darker, his body is tense.
"Darlina, you in there?" Comes a drunken holler. And like that the tension deflates.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Daryl mutters to himself, throwing back the covers and fighting off Ricks grabby hands. "It's fine, it's my brother. Just-- Stay- No! You stay in here," He says when he sees Ricks expression.
The man huffs and crosses his arms but listens, staying on the bed as the other gets out of the room and to the door. He does not look amused when he opens it. The scent of alcohol hits him near immediately and his jaw clenches.
"That fuck are you doing here?"
"Well, shit. That ain't no way to treat your kin, boy. What, you think that just 'cause you're outt'a the joint that you're all high and mighty? Ol' Merle will knock you down a few pegs." Merle's obviously been drinking and so he pushes at Daryl's chest.
"I'd suggest stepping back." And that's Rick. Of course it's Rick. Rick with his deadly eyes and scowl that he knows is dangerous but Merle.. Merle doesn't know.
"Fuck," He breathes. "Seriously? Man, I told you to stay back in the room."
"In the room? What's this guy doing staying with you? Now.. Now wait here, this one looks familiar." Merle takes a step closer. "Hey, I get it. You're the guy from the prison. You were Darlina's cellmate, right?"
Rick grits his teeth, hand on Daryl's arm. "His name is Daryl," He growls out.
And that's when Merle takes a step back to look. To really, really look. The fellow with the greying stubble is standing close to his brother. Very, very close. And they're both in their boxers and t-shirt.
His eyes widen, "Now wait here a minute. You don't mean to tell me that you're - That you two-- " He snarls, "You trying to say that you're a fag?"
Daryl stiffens and it's all too much and he turns to walk away.
Merle lunges and Rick lunges in turn and they all clash in a jumble.
In the end Daryl gets a black eye, Rick has a bruised cheek and Merle's lip is split and bleeding.
Daryl and Rick stand together, strong. "I know why you're here, it's why you're always coming around for. You need a place to stay, or ya need money. But.. But I ain't hiding here. Ain't hiding in my own house."
Merle says nothing and so they leave him alone in their living room as they go back to their bedroom. They can hear the elder Dixon cursing and muttering to himself but the front door never opens, signaling that he's staying.
That's the night that Daryl finally explains the scars on his back. Not many words are exchanged, they know each other too much for that. They sleep together, intertwined with Ricks hand laying over a thick scar that runs the whole span of his back. That night Ricks eyes were a dangerous shade of rage, promising that it would never happen again.
In the morning Daryl wakes up to see Merle and Rick standing in the small kitchen, talking in muttered tones. It's not perfect but it's something and when Merle gets the money that he's came here for he hesitates at the door, looking Daryl over.
"I don't get it."
Daryl cocked a brow.
"Don't get it. Not gonna pretend like I get it. But.. If you two wanna .. " Merle's nose scrunched up in feint rage. "Touch each other's dicks I can't stop ya. I already told him what's gonna happen to him if he hurts ya."
It feels like acceptance.
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"Rick, damn it. We have to get ready."
The man sighed from his spot on the bed, watching Daryl go around and try to put on clothes that resembled something appropriate enough for a wedding. "We've got time."
Daryl looked over, narrowing his eyes. Rick's on the bed, stretched out and bare under the sheet.
Eventually his resolve breaks and Daryl settles himself into his lap. "You're acting like ya didn't have your dick in my ass an hour ago."
Rick breathed out a laugh, his face buried in Daryl's shoulder as he grinded upwards. "I'm acting like I love you."
The Dixon smiled, fisting a hand in the mans wild, curly hair. "Well, love me at the wedding. If you make it through the whole thing you might even get lucky tonight." They both shared a laugh but there's something lurking in Rick's eyes. Worry.
"You gonna tell me what's wrong or not?"
"You aren't.. Worried? About what people are gonna say?"
"And what are they gonna be saying?"
Rick sighed, body still. "That you're too young for me. Too good," He murmured, his fingertips running over Daryl's bare arms. "And they'll have a point. They'll be right."
Daryl's jaw clenched and his fingertips tightened in Rick's hair, making him look at him. "Don't start this shit with me, Grimes." He huffed, glaring. "Don't matter much to me what people think. Shouldn't matter to you either, 'specially when that shit ain't true."
Rick frowned and opened his mouth to argue and Daryl cut in again.
"No. It don't matter." He dipped down to kiss the man, mumbling against his lips. "I love you."
Then he abruptly pulled back and walked off. "Get on some pants, we're leaving in ten."
In the end people did stare and some of them did mutter when they saw Rick's hand at Daryl's back or the way that they intimately whispered to each other, fingers smoothing over hands. They muttered when they saw Rick's beard that had greys in it and Daryl's still golden brown hair but none of that mattered because Maggie looked stunning in her dress and Glenn stuttered over his vows in a way that made everyone forget the bad in the world for a moment.
It didn't matter because Rick held put a hand over Daryl's thigh through the ceremony. It felt sincere and true and like a promise.
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They spent three years in that small apartment together until Rick brought home a dog one day.
It was a small thing, just a pup. It looked miserable, soaked and so small but clinging to Rick's warm body as the man held it close.
"I was finishing up at the farm and it was starting to rain and I .. I heard this little guy and I couldn't."
Daryl didn't have to ask what he couldn't do because it was clear. He couldn't leave it out to die.
The two of them stayed with the dog all night, drying him, warming him up, feeding him. The dog lived through the night and the next night, and the next week and it was already decided that they would keep it.
Eventually the landlord told them that they could either keep their dog and leave the building or get rid of him and stay.
"Guess we ought'a start looking for a different place," The younger one decided and Rick's full smile was worth it.
The three of them settled in a house a few miles out of town, small but comfortable and surrounded by the woods. The pit bull mix turned out to be a sweetheart that followed them nearly everywhere and became a dog that Rick even took out to the farm with him sometimes. They named him Winston. Their nights were quiet, comfortable. Merle still caused trouble, Rick still had night terrors but they always got through it.
They'd both lost in their lifetime but they'd managed to gain something big as well. The thought made Daryl smile to himself as he sat on the couch with Rick by his side and Winston by their feet.