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Looking back on all their time together, Daryl was amazed nothing had happened sooner. Within all the pain and suffering of their new life now, there had always been these hidden moments, chances, sparks flying just waiting to set off this final concluding explosion. A joining of souls as inevitable as death itself in the rotting world they now resided. Although, he had to admit, maybe if he hadn’t of pushed down and denied what was happening between them for so long this moment, the resulting explosion, may have occurred much sooner.
But living with an abusive red neck father, preaching racism and homophobia for as long as he lived was bound to have side effects. Each statement, each message, ingrained into his person with the harsh crack of a whip, any acceptance bleed out of him with the splitting of his skin under those relentless strokes. Merle had always suffered the most back when he was still alive and the world hadn’t gone to shit. His loud mouth had pushed their father on, causing him to leave scars twice as deep with messages ten times as powerful. Daryl had watched Merle grow meaner every day; each stroke of the whip transforming him more and more into the damned image of their daddy. And yet Merle was perhaps the only reason Daryl had any compassion left in him in the rotted world they now survived. No matter how tarnished and damaged it was, it was there. Merle had always been Daryl’s saving grace; even after the drugs and alcohol had turned him into almost a perfect image of their dad. Violent, angry and intolerant but Daryl could never forget all that Merle had done for him. He’d shielded him from their father’s drunken rage while he was still young enough to be influenced by it.
But now sat side by side with Rick, watching over the forests surrounding them, Daryl couldn’t help but think that the real reason he had a place to call home was sat right beside him. Rick Grimes had entered his life and changed everything he had grown to believe about himself. It wasn’t love at first sight or anything as cliché or pretentious as that bull shit but there had been an instant connection between the two of them. Their first meeting had been filled with tension and anger; suspicion from both sides as they eyed the other up. Rick Grimes had been stood there looking the clean cut respectable American citizen Daryl had been taught to despise, Daryl probably looked no better to Rick, like the white trash he believed himself to be with squirrels hung over his shoulder and clothes covered in mud. If Daryl was being honest the first feeling he ever had for Rick Grimes was probably more close to hatred than respect. He’d stood there already acting like he was the groups saviour and to top it all off it turned out he was another pig here to dictate the group with his so called buddy Shane. Daryl remembered thinking at the time about what would happen if he came forward and exposed Rick’s wife, and Shane, telling Rick Grimes the whole truth about their so called “friendship”. But even back then, still under Merle's red neck influence, he wasn’t that type of person. He had no idea that in a couple of months’ Rick Grimes was going to mean more to Daryl than any other person in his entire life.
The first time he had looked twice at Rick had been the very same day. This clean cut arrogant man had offered to go back into a hot zone, full of walkers, for Daryl’s white trash bastard of a brother. He had gone back there with Daryl against his wives wishes, and the groups, supposedly to save Merle. Daryl wasn’t stupid; at first he had thought there was some sort of plan to this that Rick Grimes was looking for some sort of angle to manipulate him with. He’d thought that perhaps Rick was trying to buy his loyalty and submission by pretending to care about Merle. When Rick had stated he needed to go back for the guns Daryl thought he’d been right but then he’d stayed with Daryl and helped him follow Merle's trail. It was the first of many times Rick had proved Daryl wrong and the first time Daryl had realised not everyone needed an ulterior motive to help him. Daryl had kept a closer eye on Rick ever since.
After that day Daryl had reluctantly decided to trust Rick and his choices. The man had proved to Daryl that despite his clean cut appearance and trophy wife he was in fact immune to the same prejudice that caused everyone else in their small group to avoid him. Rick looked at him and didn’t scowl like Shane or look away with embarrassment or fear like Andrea, no instead he looked at Daryl and saw a person. He was perhaps the first person to ever do that since Merle. Of course over time the whole group began to look at him differently, realising that he wasn’t the same red neck white trash that they believed his brother to be. But it had been Rick who’d looked first.
Over the next weeks, at the farm, Rick continued to prove himself to Daryl, causing Daryl to let him in further every day. Something he had never done in his life before. He also found himself letting Carol in too; some days when looking at Carol all Daryl could see was his past self, broken and weak from constant abuse and lack of control. Maybe that’s why he looked so hard for the little girl Sophia, trying to give Carol something he’d never been blessed with till now. Hope. However when he’d stumbled back from the woods, hallucinating, broken and bleeding Rick had been the one to catch him, the one to pick him up and drag him to Hershel, the one who’d screamed when he thought Andrea had killed him. Daryl could never forget that. It was perhaps the moment he let himself realise he cared for Rick Grimes.
Sophia’s death had been crushing; it was a cruel wakeup call reminding him of his failure. Watching her reanimated corpse walk out of the barn was an image he’d never forget, the sight burned inside his eyelids forever. He’d watched Rick stand up then his face forced into a blank expression, arm steady as he lifted his gun. Everything about Rick in that moment screamed strength and Daryl had never let himself forgot. Behind his good guy cop façade Rick was hiding a man with iron embedded in his bones; it was his own personal reminder to not fuck with Rick Grimes.
However accepting that he cared for Rick as a friend was one thing but coming to terms with the fact that maybe his feelings for Rick ran deeper was another matter entirely. His whole life his father and Merle had called him a faggot and a pussy, looking at him like the disappointment he was. He’d fought so hard to break away from those titles to earn a reputation as a “real man” in their eyes; never stopping to think for one moment that maybe they were right. Maybe there was a reason Merle's biker gang all called him pretty boy. Even after his dad had beaten him so hard one night that he’d broken one of Daryl’s eye sockets, causing his face to lose whatever symmetry it had, had in the first place. A permanent bag settled under his eye and pushed his already narrow eyes into a constant squint, making him look mean, dangerous. But it was like they could all see the words “pansy” and “faggot” written out on his forehead. He was never strong enough or “manly” enough to join their gang or be one of them. At the time Daryl had thought of it as a curse though now, sitting next to Rick in this broken world, he realised it was a blessing. His whole life he’d been trying to find a place to fit in and he’d finally found it in the mismatched group of people he was with now.
For a while anytime he allowed his gaze to linger on Rick, and his body, Merle’s voice would be screaming in his head. Words along the lines of: “I didn’t raise you to be no faggot, boy”. His voice a constant reminder of his daddy’s lessons; all those teachings he’d learnt a lifetime ago.
“Fucking pussy, you best friends with officer friendly now. You his bitch little brother?”
Sometimes, if he was caught off guard, he’d flinch when Rick reached out to him. He’d brush off the looks of concern ignore any comments asking if he was okay. As understanding as Rick tried to be no polished city slicker could understand what he was going through. No one could. But as much as he tried to shut Rick out nothing would work. The man still managed to worm his way under his skin occupying his every waking thought. Once, during the long winter, Daryl had turned to rest his gaze on Rick finding him to already be staring straight back. There was something dark, heated in that gaze, intensity Daryl was unfamiliar with. Flushing madly, he’d turned around and excused himself. He’d felt a flutter of something so foreign cut into his heart then; something that had felt an awful lot like hope. He’d pushed it down and tried to ignore it. Nothing good came from false hope, or any hope at all. Not to him. But after that moment things began to get complicated; the first sparks began to make their appearance, heated glances between silences, long hunting trips spent with just the two of them. Daryl let himself indulge in the false hope while he had it. He knew Rick wouldn’t stay mad at Lori forever; he was aware that Rick was as far from available as he could get and on top of that wasn’t even a little bit gay. Yet Daryl continued to purse him, seeing things in moments where there was perhaps nothing. Basking in any attention Rick would give him, he took everything he could get. He was too naïve at the time to see that Rick was responding back to him; too blind to realise that Rick had been seeking him back.
Throughout the whole of that long harsh winter one moment stood out clearly to Daryl; it was perhaps one of the final sparks before the ending explosion.
He and Rick had been out on a hunt; they had been tracking a deer for hours, following scattered footsteps and broken twigs. Daryl finally felt they were closing in on it; finally it was in their sights grazing in the meadow in front of them. He’d motioned for Rick to circle behind it so strung up and cautious about not making a wrong move and scaring the deer away again. Too strung up, he’d failed to see the four walkers that were stalking him until they were practically on top of him. He let off the killing arrow, watched it pierce the deer’s neck, as the walkers descended upon him. He fell with a shout and a heavy thud that jarred his exhausted body; Rick’s panicked shout didn’t register as he fought to keep the four walkers from biting him. Raising his cross bow with shaking arms he fought to keep the walkers mouths away from him. Fumbling with clumsy fingers, he struggled to find his knife; reaching it just in time to stab one of the walkers through the temple before it bit down into his arm. His tired arms were shaking uncontrollably as he struggled to stab another one of the walkers through the skull, desperate, jerky movements, to keep the walkers from falling onto him. Just before his arms gave out a shot went off. A bullet burst through a walkers head, knocking its body off of Daryl. Giving him the chance to push the remaining walker off himself and finish it.
He lay there panting feeling the adrenaline pump through his exhausted body, shaking on the cold ground. The only thing he could think was “That was way to close”.
He didn’t even process what was happening as Rick grabbed him, throwing him up and pushing him against a tree. Ricks blue eyes were burning into his, hot, angry and intense. His arms pinning him there; everything about him screamed anger and panic. Before Daryl even had chance to explain himself Rick’s hands were everywhere, under his shirt, grabbing his arms, turning his face frantically looking for any sign that Daryl wasn’t going to be okay. Daryl could feel his face flushing; every touch of Ricks hands sending jolts of electricity through his body, leaving him feeling open and exposed and flustered. As the touches continued heat began to grow, travelling through his wrecked body, pooling in his groin and he knew if he didn’t get Rick off soon he would have a whole lot more to explain. Grabbing Rick’s wrists he stilled his actions, pulling the deputy’s hands off his toned chest. He was ready to give Rick an explanation; to point out the felled deer in the meadow ahead and remind him why they were here but his mind froze as Rick’s eyes caught his. There was something beyond concern swirling in those ice blue pools; something hot and dominating and so real. It was only then Daryl realised how close they were. Only inches separated them. Ricks breaths were coming out quick and panicked, blowing hot air onto Daryl’s face over his mouth. Rick pushed closer; his hot chest pushing against Daryl’s, holding him in place. Heat burst through his body his breaths leaving him in gasps as his felt Ricks heart thudding alongside his own. He looked back up at Rick’s eyes finding them lidded and darker than he’d ever seen them, pupils black and dilated with only a thin sliver of ice blue to surround them. His heart stopped as he realised Rick was angling his head slowly aligning their lip, closing the remaining space between them. It was all too much; Daryl could feel the familiar stirring of heat spread through his body, down in his groin, and suppressed the groan begging to be realised. Rick was still married; his pregnant wife was back at their camping waiting for them to bring food back. Now wasn’t the time to explore whatever this was no matter how much he wanted to, needed to. Pushing Rick back slightly, Daryl coughed and ducked his head down mumbling. “We should get that deer back” before side stepping out of Ricks hold; every inch of his body screaming against it. He didn’t look back to see Ricks confused, hurt look pointed at him. He could feel it burning through his skull.
A few days later the prison was found and from there onwards everything went to shit. Hershel lost his leg, T-dog died, Carol went missing, everything was falling apart around them and nobody could do shit to stop it. When the alarms went off and they realised one of the prisoners was still alive Daryl knew something big was around the corner. Something he wasn’t sure he was at all prepared for.
Rick’s new cold disposition had been a shock to them all. Watching him murder a prisoner with the swing of his machete was possibly the scariest thing Daryl had ever seen then man do. The clean cut deputy in Rick had gone and instead been replaced with a ruthless leader ready to do anything to keep his family alive. They’d all grown on the road; hard muscle and skilled hands replacing any weaknesses they may have had left. They were survivors now iron willed and strong prepared to live in this broken world for as long as they could. Watching Rick in that moment he didn’t know whether he was scared or impressed.
Loris death and the birth of Judith had the potential to be the finishing blow to Rick and yet he kept fighting with strength Rick probably didn’t even know he owned.
Though watching Rick slip slowly into madness was almost as crushing as Sophia’s death; once again he felt like a failure. He knew trying to talk to get Rick to snap out of it was out of the question. This was something the man needed to work through himself and if he made it he would be that much stronger for it. So Daryl did the only thing he thought he could he attempted to take up Ricks role as leader, vowed to look after little ass kicker until Rick was able to. He tried to keep an eye on the group while Rick couldn’t. Everything was fine until Woodbury and the governor turned up and Merle along with them.
Leaving Rick and the group was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do and thinking back on it probably the stupidest. Staring into Ricks eyes before he followed Merle into the forest very nearly broke him. He practically begged him to take Merle back with them, though he knew it was futile and watched Rick’s heart break again through his eyes; saw the light fade along with the hope that resided there. Daryl wondered if Rick could see his heart break too, he knew he could feel it. Though Daryl had forgotten that he and Rick weren’t the only ones sharing this moment; Merle was stood watching every moment of it. He should have guessed Merle would figure it all out. “Is that something your sheriff Rick taught you?” Daryl could hear the accusations in Merle's speech “faggot, pussy” Of course he knew “You and Sheriff Rick are like this now. Right?” He never had any chance of hiding it, not from Merle. And then Merle had to go ripping off Daryl’s shirt, seeing all the messages and teachings left behind there from their daddy. It was the last straw. Looking at Merle stood there looking shocked and horrified, something snapped in Daryl. Merle may have saved him from his dad when they were kids, taking the brunt of the beating until Daryl was old enough to look after himself. But he’d left; left him to rot there with their daddy and his belt. He had no right to look horrified or repulsed at Daryl’s scars there was no way Merle didn’t know this would happen if he left.
Pulling what was remaining of his shirt back around him he stood up and walked; Merle wasn’t his saving grace any more. He had a home and we went back to it.
Merle's death still took a toll on Daryl, even after he’d accepted he was no longer the hero he’d worshipped as a child. Merle was blood; the last remaining blood Daryl had and even after all he’d done to hurt Daryl he was still his brother. He began to draw in on himself in the following weeks mourning in his own private way; not wanting any weakness to be exposed to the new members of their group. Rick saw right through his act though, as always, began seeking him out again.
There was this underlying tension in all of their conversations now; not so secret glances at each-others body, heavy stares and lingering touches. It was only a matter of time before one of them made a move and confronted what was happening between them. The others had begun to twig onto what was happening as well. He’d often see Maggie and Glenn staring at them with knowing smiles on their faces. Carol would ambush him on an almost daily basis about it not letting up until he was bright red and skittish looking ready to run at any moment. Carol had been teasing Daryl mercilessly today, not letting up, till he’d decided to relieve whoever was on watch and start his own watch early.
Heading outside and up into the guard tower he’d managed to forget who was on watch in the first place. Rick.
That’s how he ended up alone in the guard tower with Rick staring out at the forest. Tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Rick turned to look at him, eyes soft and warm, melting some of the tension between them.
“Are we gunna talk about this?” His voice was soft as he looked at Daryl with open eyes filled with emotion, emotions Daryl daren’t put a name to just yet.
“Talk about what” If Rick was making them do this he was going to lead. Looking back up he saw Rick smirking at him. Goddamn him and his confidence. Rick caught his face before he could look down again; his calloused hand was warm, sending jolts of heat through his body, his skin prickling under every finger. Shifting slightly he moved further forward into Rick’s space, smirking to himself when he heard Rick’s breath catch. Rick glared at him before moving his head closer to Daryl’s; till there was an just inch between them.
“I think you know damn well what I want to talk about” Rick said his voice taking a husky quality, dragging out his southern drawl and sending shivers down Daryl’s spine. He leant in closer, tilting his head just right so their lips were almost brushing together. Daryl could feel every breath exhaled against his lips, could feel the heat of Rick’s body burning in the spaces between them. His mouth went dry, lips parting slightly as a breathy whimper fell out of him. Wanting nothing more than to close the space between them, he looked up catching Rick’s glazed, hooded eyes with his own. He spoke softly; so close now his lips were brushing against Rick’s with every word, feeling the concluding sparks before the explosion. Knowing there was nothing to stop them this time.
“Do we need to…” Daryl watched as Rick smirked his dark eyes shining with mirth and lust in the low light.
“No”
Life went in slow motion for a second; Daryl watching as Rick pushed forward closing the gap between them, catching Daryl’s bottom lip between his teeth. He felt Ricks tongue slid against it, eyes fluttering closed as Rick realised his lip. And then it exploded.
Ricks mouth was full and on his drawing out the little breath left in his lungs, drinking in every small whimper and gasp Daryl made with hungry movements of his own. Daryl gripped onto Rick pulling and grabbing every inch of skin his hands could find. Their tongues met and Daryl was moaning, gasping, panting into Rick’s mouth. All he could feel was heat, and want, their mouths parted for a moment as Daryl gasped for air; Rick’s lips leaving a trail of nips and kisses along his jaw and down his neck, biting down hard on his jugular. Daryl moaned loudly fisting his hands back into Rick’s hair pulling his mouth back up to his. Pushing forward he climbed onto Ricks lap, straddling him, running his hands under his shirt and over his chest. Rick gasped as his fingers brushed over a nipple grabbing Daryl’s hips and pulling him down, grinding their crotches together with heated friction. Daryl pulled away panting into Ricks mouth as he circled his hips down increasing the rhythm between them. He could feel Rick’s hard member pushing against his with every thrust; his mouth moving to suck a mark against Rick’s neck as the sheriff gasped quietly.
“Daryl” Rick whimpered voice cracked and broken, eyes closed and mouth hanging open in a drawn out moan. Daryl paused taking it all in, seeing Rick coming apart beneath him. He leant in so his lips were brushing against Rick’s ear, gasping quietly as he continued to circle his hips.
“Tell me what you want” He purred, biting Rick’s lobe, slowly undoing the buttons on Rick’s shirt. Rick chuckled before moaning lowly, lunging forward and ripping off Daryl’s shirt, pushing him down onto the ground, pinning him with his body.
“You know what I want.” He thrust down against him, pinning his arms above his head. He began to trail his lips down his body. Biting and sucking marks into his skin, owning him completely. Daryl let out a drawn out whine, his back arching, as Rick’s mouth closed around a pebbled nipple. Teasing it with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. Daryl bucked against Rick and flipped them back over; his lips latching onto Rick’s neck as his hand trailed lower and lower, cupping Rick’s erection. Daryl stilled as Rick gasped, he had no idea what to do from here. He could feel Rick’s member hard and aching against his palm, pushing against his jeans, begging to be realised. Rick watched as Daryl stilled, leaning forward and bringing a hand up to cup Daryl’s face. He watched as Daryl relaxed into it, built up tension leaving his shoulders as he let out a broken exhale. He waited for Daryl to open his eyes, looking up at him with such raw honesty, pleading for help with this.
“How do we do this?” Daryl breathed voice so quiet Rick barely caught it.
“Just follow my lead” Daryl looked back up at him, eyes dark, the silent “always” going unsaid in the air between them. Rick leaned in, kissing Daryl softly before moving his hands smoothly undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt before shrugging it off. Daryl’s breath caught as Rick’s chest was exposed, muscled, toned. He ran his fingers over the few scars and bruises; a day didn’t go by without them gaining at least one new bruise now. A small gasp left his parted mouth as Rick’s hands travelled lower trailing over his stomach, stopping to unzip his fly. He let his head tilt back as Rick pulled the trousers down and off his legs, realising his still rock hard member. Wrapping his hand around Daryl’s member he listened to the hunter’s broken breaths coming out in gasps, his hands reaching up to grab at Rick. Pulling his body closer, he hid his face in the sheriff’s neck. Still gasping and whining Daryl reached forward, pulling off Ricks remaining clothes, leaving them both naked and gasping into the others mouth. Rick pushed closer, grinding up into Daryl. Grabbing his ass running the tip of his member against Daryl’s pucker, he listened to Daryl’s pants and gasps. He could feel the pressure building between them; hot and heavy pants shared in the air between them. It wasn’t close enough.
“Daryl, do you trust me?” Rick asked as Daryl looked down at him eyes dark and glazed, he nodded pushing himself down harder onto Ricks tip. Rick let out a shout before grabbing Daryl’s hips, holding him still. Reaching forward, he pushed three fingers against Daryl’s mouth. His member grew impossibly harder as Daryl’s mouth closed around them, sucking on the fingers, closing his eyes with anticipation of what was still to come. After an unbearable minute later Daryl realised Ricks fingers and watched as the sheriff trailed his hand lower; bringing a finger up to circle over his hole.
“Relax for me” he breathed before pushing one finger up into the tight hot heat that was Daryl. Giving Daryl time to adjust, he slowly thrust the finger upwards, cocking it slightly catching a bundle of nerves inside Daryl that had the hunter gasping into Rick’s neck. He slid in another finger and then a third, waiting for Daryl to adjust, watching as he moaned, head thrown back, pushing himself down onto Ricks fingers, relishing in the stretch. Rick pulled his fingers out before spitting on his hand and wetting his hard member. Pushing Daryl down, he positioned himself at Daryl’s entrance, catching Daryl’s eyes before slowly pushing in.
Daryl arched his back as he felt Rick slowly push in. Squeezing his eyes shut, breathing hard as his body stretched to accommodate Rick’s large member. They lay there for a moment, basking in the new sensations; before Daryl gave a stuttered nod at Rick, giving him the okay to continue. Rick thrust in hard, causing Daryl to shout and reach up, clawing at Ricks shoulders with his bitten nails. Rick was gasping and panting into Daryl’s ear as he set a bruising pace, searching for that hidden bundle of nerves inside Daryl again. Daryl shouted as Rick hit it, grabbing on harder to Ricks shoulders moaning loud and open into the shared air around them. Everything was suddenly too hot, Daryl could feel the pressure building low and burning inside him; everyone of Rick’s thrusts sending him closer and closer to the edge. Rick was panting into his mouth, next to his ear, whining low in his throat as he drew out every thrust. He pulled a hand down and began to stroke himself along to Rick’s thrusts, throwing his head back and coming hard with a shout moments before Rick pulled out and come against him.
They lay there, holding each other through the aftershocks of their orgasms. Chests covered in a thin sheen of sweat and cum, gasping against each other. Rick rolled off Daryl, curling up into his side, dragging his fingers over the many scars that littered his chest, not looking in disgust as Merle had but rather in admiration. Daryl closed his eyes pushing his lips into Rick’s unruly hair basking in the afterglow surrounding them.
Lying there, listening to Rick’s steadying breathing, Daryl knew he’d never felt so complete. His whole life had been spent looking for a place to belong and lying here with Rick sated and curled up into his side he knew he’d found it.
It had been a long time coming, sparks of feeling lighting up around them as they grew eventually igniting into a blazing explosion powerful enough to consume them both.