So, here's the thing: getting stuck inside that storage room was a complete accident.
Paul hadn't meant to let the door close behind them, his hands were busy and he didn't know it would lock itself— he was too used to Hilltop's own storages, old and creaky, and Daryl himself had been surprised when they heard the telling click from the lock.
Somehow that didn't stop Daryl from glaring at him like it was all his fault.
Kicking didn't help— the door didn't even move,— and neither did trying to pick the lock. Yelling would be useless, they were too far away from where the group was preparing the Christmas dinner in the Kingdom. He was running out of options. At least the room had windows, too small to fit through but enough to have air.
He stepped away with a sigh, knowing defeat when he saw it.
"What, giving up already?" Daryl teased from where he was leaning on a wall, one eyebrow raised at Paul's attempts.
A huff. "Didn't see you trying to help."
"I wasn't the one to lock us up. 'Sides, you were doing just fine on your own."
He had almost fucked up his own leg trying to kick the goddamn door open, but sure, whatever. "I didn't mean to, it was an accident," he said for the sake of arguing, but his tone was already defeated. "How long do you think before someone notices us missing?"
"Given that they're all busy with that stupid party—"
"It's not stupid, we all agreed it'd be good for morale and for the kids, you were there—"
"—with that stupid party," Daryl repeated again, ignoring Paul's glare, "likely a couple hours, give or take."
Paul sighed, walking next to the hunter as he tries to think of a way out of there. There was still a good two hours to go before the dinner, and since there was such a big number of people helping given that all three communities were working together, the chance of the two being missed until then were almost none. They could either try and call attention through the tiny windows in the small chance of someone walking by the secluded area, or wait until someone showed up. Neither option looked very promising.
"We'll be here forever, won't we?"
"Yep."
Waiting it was, then.
He looked at Daryl, who was already feeling at home where he was sitting on the ground with not a care in the world about being trapped, and sat down right next to him. A couple of hours, huh? Paul could use that.
They'd been flirting for a while now, he and Daryl. Well, more like him flirting as Daryl either huffed flustered or postured around him trying to look big with those arms of his, but yeah. Paul's been trying— really trying,— to let things take their time and for the other to make a move. Except for the past few days they rarely ever find time to talk to each other anymore, always busy with something now that the war is over and Negan's dead, with everyone still trying to find their footing with their new reality, which left them with next to no time to try and figure each other out.
Always a task to be done, a run to go for a couple of days or so, and so every time they saw each other they were bound to get interrupted and be told to do something else, or that someone was looking for one of them.
Needless to say that Paul was getting a bit… well, frustrated at it all.
The whole reason the two were even together right now was because Daryl got called to find some Christmas decorations in one of the storage rooms and Paul volunteered to go together before anyone could say anything, hoping for some time alone with the man. It was a precious opportunity, with no interruptions ahead, so really why not use it?
"So…"
Daryl looked at him, waiting impatiently.
"Do you want to make out?"
It was a serious question, but the other clearly didn't take it as such as he just huffed and rolled his eyes, muttering an offended 'fuck off' under his breath. Which, rude. Sure, it wasn't exactly how he planned to finally make his move but he still meant it.
"What? You said it yourself, it's going to take hours before someone notices us gone."
"You're an asshole."
"I mean, maybe yeah," Paul agreed, "but I mean it. You know I like you, right Daryl? I'm not just saying stuff to embarrass you or anything, I mean it; even if I like teasing you." When Daryl just looked away, he completed: "Did you not know that?"
Daryl shrugged. "You joke a lot, how am I supposed to know yer for real?"
That's… fair enough.
"I thought you knew I was flirting with you," he said, honest. I thought you were flirting back, he didn't add. Paul'd thought Daryl liked him, too, but maybe he was wrong about as well.
Maybe it'd been all in his head.
"'Course I did, you ain't exactly subtle," Daryl answered, though he was still not looking at him. "Just didn't know you meant it, 's all."
Paul tried to show the other he was being for real, all seriousness in his voice as he replied. "Well, I did. I do. I can back off if it makes you uncomfortable, you just have to say it, but I do like you, Daryl. A lot actually."
"You ain't gotta stop or anything, it don't bother me," Daryl said, shrugging. "It's fine."
"Yeah?" He sighed with relief, glad the other wasn't uncomfortable or rejecting him. "That's good to know."
And it really was, Paul would never mean to make unwanted advances on him. But that was still far from a declaration of love and he still has no idea if Daryl's interested or not.
In the end he decided to just go for it.
"Do… do you like me back? It's alright if you don't, I mean, if I've read it all wrong in the first place that's fine. I'm really just asking."
"Shit, man. I dunno."
Daryl didn't wait for him to take that in, running his hand through the back of his head seemingly frustrated with his own lack of words. Or maybe it was with Paul's poking.
"I mean, I never— I ain't ever— Shit, I don't know, alright?"
"Alright, that's ok, Daryl. It's ok to not know, yeah? We can figure it out together. Nothing wrong with that," Paul assured him, trying to not sound condescending. He knew Daryl would hate that. "When you say you don't know you mean that you don't know if you like me back or—?"
"I ain't ever really, uh, got interested, y'know? Not really, not enough anyway," Daryl told him, voice barely a whisper as if he wasn't sure if he wanted Paul to hear or not. "First time I had sex I figured it was all some big joke I wasn't in, never really saw the point of it. Avoided it as much as I could after that. Didn't matter much who it was, I just…"
"You just didn't want it," Paul completed, feeling like a fool for not having thought of that; it did shed a new light on a lot of things. He didn't know much about asexuality, or anything in that spectrum really, but it wasn't much of a jump to assume from what he knew about the hunter.
For some reason though, Daryl looks almost as if guilty, nodding at Paul's words.
"I mean, I can do it, and I like kissing just fine too, but when it gets down to it I just ain't interested." Daryl's voice hurt a bit to hear, so defensive as if he expected him to think less of him, but Paul didn't interrupt; just nodded along trying to show he understood. "I thought I was once, yeah? Thought I'd found it..."
Paul had his suspicions as to with who, but he only speaks up when the other trailed off like he didn't know how to keep going. "Rick?"
Daryl nodded. "Ain't matter now, anyhow. He's like a brother to me. But for a while there I thought it was it."
Before he could hesitate he put a hand over Daryl's, glad he was sharing that with him. Hoping he deserved the trust. Daryl looked at his hand then at Paul— when had they gotten so close to each other?— and the scout could swear he was just as surprised as him that he had told so much.
"What about me?" Paul asked quietly, not wanting to push for more but still wanting an answer, wanting to know. "Do you like me? I'm not asking if you're attracted to me sexually, we can figure that out later, but do you like me? Romantically?"
"I… think so, yeah. I do."
"We could try it, you know. A it slow, start with a kiss maybe— you'd said you liked kissing? But there's no need to rush, I can help you figure it out; you don't need to know it all now." Paul moved their faces closer so he could look at him, doing his best to keep his voice casual to show the man he didn't expect anything more. "All I need to know is if you like me back, the rest is details for later."
"And if later I don't want more?"
"Then you don't, and that's fine with me," Paul assured him. "I like sex, sure, and you're gorgeous—" Daryl flushed red at the compliment, looking down. "— but I don't need it."
The hunter didn't seem sure if he believed it. "And you'd do that? A relationship without knowing if you'll get yer dick wet?"
"I have a hand, don't I? Two, actually," Paul said just as crudely, showing his hands to Daryl who just rolled his eyes. "See? It's not like I will die without it. I like you, Daryl, not the idea of having sex with you. It's ok if you don't want to try, but I'm interested. I want it."
Time seemed to go slower as they looked at each other, trying to have a whole conversation through looks alone, and Paul's not sure he was even breathing before Daryl gave him a small nod.
Paul sighed relieved. "Do you?"
"Yeah. Fuck it, I wanna try it," it's the answer he got before there were lips against his, kissing him desperately.
He kissed back, his hands going to cup Daryl's face gently as he did so, humming quietly at finally— finally!— getting to know what the other's lips felt like on his after wondering for so long. Paul pushes him back a little, breaking their first kiss but still keeping close enough for their foreheads to touch, resting against each other. And Daryl almost whined, seeking his lips again mindlessly before looking at him confused.
"Does that mean you do want to make out?" Paul asked, unable to stop his smile at the other.
He was expecting a snort, maybe Daryl to shove him with a huff and then kiss him again, but instead he just got stared down with the biggest goddamn deadpan he has ever seen.
"Shut the fuck up, oh my god— you're such a little shit. Yes. Yes, I want to make out with you. Christ."
"Now when you say Christ—"
Paul was interrupted with a kiss, a more forceful one this time as Daryl let one hand go to his neck as the other held on his bicep, kissing him again thoroughly and not leaving away any uncertainties. Before he knew it his own hands were on Daryl's legs, just holding them there as he moved his head to the side, allowing the hunter to deepen the kiss if he wanted, not wanting to push.
And he did, deepening it slowly and almost teasingly, letting them just taste each other, kissing Paul within an inch of his life— and fuck, Daryl really wasn't kidding when he'd said he liked kissing; he was damn good at it.
And Paul just let him, enjoying every second as he kissed Daryl back just as fiercely, gripping the thighs under his hands as he did so and groaning when Daryl sucked his lip. His dreams weren't anywhere close to this; the touches, the intimacy, the trust. He'd be a fool to ever deny even a second of this.
He hesitated when Daryl felt his growing interest at their kiss, breaking away ever so lightly to look at the other. Shit, he really hadn't meant to ruin this, it'd been just so perfect. He didn't want Daryl to feel pressured.
"You're—?" Daryl asked, as if he hadn't felt the answer already.
"Just ignore it, we don't have to do anything about it," he assured him, leaving kisses at the corner of Daryl's mouth and all over his jaw, still breathing hard. "Just leave it alone, ok? Ignore it."
"But you're hard."
"You're a good kisser, a damn good one, of course I am. Or, well, getting there anyway. But we don't have to do anything about it, ok? I won't die if we just ignore it, so let's just keep kissing and forget about my inconvenient dick."
He didn't get to know whatever Daryl was about to say before he heard the sound of voices and keys moving from the other side of the door, startling him.
"I think I've seen them coming here yeah, Jesus and the other guy," a voice Paul recognized said, closer than ever now; it was the Kingdom's gardener, who he's spoken to once or twice. "This door is always locking on us if we don't pay attention."
They barely had time to share a thought— a very articulated shit, fuck, what the fuck,— before the door opened with a telling click and revealed almost Daryl's entire family behind it, with the addition of Nabila who gaped at them like a drying fish. They all stared at the scene, Paul and Daryl practically all over each other, with wide eyes before each reacted with varying emotions going from shock to smugness at the revelation. Rick seemed like he didn't know what to do with himself.
And in the middle of them all there was Carol and Maggie, smiling like the cat who caught the mouse and way, way too unsurprised at it.
Daryl groaned, too tired and frustrated for any of this, a sentiment Paul shared. "Oh, sunavabitch."