Author's Note: This story is dedicated to Lizzyreedus1212, who requested some Daryl/Rick smut for her birthday (her request was a little more complex than that, but if you read the story it'll be obvious what it was). So happy birthday to you, love, and I hope you like what I managed to create for you.
Also, I have no idea why I named this Battle Born. Probably just because it has the word "born" in it, and this story is about birthdays.
Battle Born
He'd heard Daryl mention it once or twice, usually mumbled or whispered, spoken only in the greatest confidences of those he was closest to. Daryl didn't like to talk about it much, certainly didn't like to call any sort of attention to it, and seemed pretty happy that the rest of the world didn't revolve around that sort of thing anymore.
Daryl's birthday. That's the one topic he tried to ignore completely, and it was no surprise why. From what Rick could gather Daryl had been born sometime during the summer, probably July or August considering how the man had once complained about how humid and muggy his day was. And to top off the ungodly heat that plagued Georgia in the summer, his birthday was usually completely overlooked by his family, and that was if he was lucky; Daryl'd let slip once that his ol' man had beat him a couple times on that day just for being born, though that wasn't exactly something Daryl had asked for.
Daryl ignored the day, and was glad that everyone else did, too. He didn't mark days on a calendar or in his head, like Andrea had once done for Amy, like Rick was doing for Judith. If someone happened to bring up the subject of birthday, saying something like "everyone's getting older, but no one's celebrating", Daryl would just get up and leave the room, making sure he wouldn't be asked any questions about his own birthday.
And Rick felt bad for the man, he truly did. No one deserved to be sad on their birthday, to be hit on their birthday, to have their birthday be made out to seem like some horrible plight on their family's lives. Rick wanted to do something special for the redneck now that the air was turning hot and muggy again. Rick wanted to show Daryl that his birthday was nothing to be ashamed of, and that he should be happy to be alive.
So when Michonne and Tyreese said they were planning a run for some more canned goods Rick had decided to tag along, see if he couldn't pick up something nice for Daryl while he was out there. And as luck would have it Rick found something perfect for the occasion.
Daryl leaned over the railing of the guard tower, his crossbow propped against the wall beside him, and arched his back, grunting as his joints popped. It was nighttime, the sky dark save for a few starts and a sliver of moon, and the breeze that ghosted through the trees felt good against his skin.
The sound of soft footfalls had his head turning slowly in the direction they were coming from, had him standing just a little bit straighter. He relaxed again when he saw it was just Rick, but quirked an eyebrow at the object in the sheriff's hands.
"Whatcha got there?" Daryl asked, nodding his chin at the mystery object.
"A surprise. You wanna go inside for a minute, maybe sit down for a while?" Rick asked as he got closer to Daryl.
Daryl turned back to road, listened to the quiet groans of the few walkers out there, and decided it was safe. "Sure."
The two men filed into the tower, Daryl hopping up on the counter while Rick opted for the one chair still up there. Once seated, Rick reached into his pocket and pulled out the spare matchbook he always kept there. He struck one match to flaming, and Daryl could see that what was in Rick's hand was a Twinkie with a candle sticking out of it. Rick touched the end of the match to the candle's tip, and Daryl prayed the man couldn't see him blush.
"What's this for?" Daryl mumbled, knowing full well what Rick's answer would be.
"This is for your birthday. I doubt that today is the right day, but it's as good as any other." Rick set the Twinkie on the counter beside Daryl and replaced the matchbook in his pocket, leaning forward to better catch Daryl's reaction.
Daryl's teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he stared at the small token Rick had offered him. This was the first birthday that was anywhere near special for him, and also the first one spent in company he actually enjoyed, and he was moved damn near to tears by that.
"Oh, and before you blow out the candle," Rick started, reaching into his other pocket. He came away with a small ring, just barely big enough to fit Daryl's pinkie finger, banded in silver with two small angel wings that matched the ones on Daryl's vest on it. He offered it to Daryl, who opened his palm and accepted it without protest.
Daryl studied it, his fingers tracing the fine detailing on the wings. "Why would you do all this for me, Rick?" He whispered, his eyes still on the ring.
It was Rick's turn to bite his lip now as he contemplated how to put what he felt into words.
"Because I care about you." Is all that came out of Rick's mouth as first. That would have been a good enough explanation for Daryl, but Rick felt that more needed to be said; so he continued. "You're an angel to me Daryl, someone sent from Heaven to help guide me during my time of need. And while you might have that fancy vest to show that off, I wanted you to have something more personal, something that came just from me. But it's not just that, it's a promise. I promise that I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe, and happy, and healthy, and I'll love you for as long as we're on this earth together."
Rick leaned forward, placing a hand on Daryl's knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. Daryl's eyes flickered up to Rick's, and then he handed the ring back.
Rick was about to protest, about to tell Daryl to at least keep it somewhere with him, but then Daryl held out his right hand, pinkie forward. He was offering Rick the chance to make that promise something solid, make it official in the best way they could. And Rick took that chance with humbled gratitude.
Rick held Daryl's hand gently in his right, using his left to carefully slide the ring onto Daryl's finger. It was a tight fit, but that just meant it wouldn't fall off and get lost somewhere. He kept Daryl's hand in his own for a while longer, simply staring at the way the ring sat on the man's finger like it was damn well meant to be there.
Daryl, blushing deeply once more and once more praying Rick couldn't see, slowly pulled his hand back. "So you gonna sing or what?"
Rick chuckled and shook his head. "Do you really want me to sing to you, Daryl?"
Daryl shrugged. "I don't know. Ain't that customary or somethin'?"
"I suppose it is. But so it blowing out the candle and making a wish as soon as the song ends. You gonna do that for me?"
"If it'll make you happy, then yeah, I'll do that."
"I want it to make you happy, too, Daryl. This is about you, not me. If you don't want to make a wish, then that's fine." Rick smiled reassuringly at Daryl, hoping it would make the redneck more comfortable with the situation.
Daryl bit his lip again, chewing it thoughtfully as he watched the candle's flame dance. "Well, it's just that I don't need no wish, since I already got you in my life."
Rick's eyes widened at this admission, taking all of his self-control not to just gasp outright. He never expected Daryl to say something so revealing, or so full of pure emotion. He rose from the chair and moved onto the counter beside Daryl, the pseudo-birthday cake the only thing between them.
And then, very softly, Rick began to sing. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Daryl Dixon. Happy birthday, dear man that I love with all my heart. Happy birthday, dear man that I adore now and forever. Happy birthday to you."
Daryl picked up the Twinkie and blew the candle out, shrouding the two men in darkness once more.
"Did you make a wish?" Rick asked, reaching up to cup Daryl's jaw.
"Yeah."
"What was it for?"
"Can't tell ya that; then it'll never come true."
"Does that really matter in this world?"
Daryl thought about that, leaning slightly into the sheriff's gentle touch. "Guess not. Still don't wanna tell ya, though."
"That's alright." Rick shrugged, even though the other man couldn't see that.
Daryl paused a moment as he plucked the candle from the cake and threw it across the room. "I 'spose I could show you, if you want."
"How can you show someone a wish?"
"By makin' it come true."
And then Daryl's lips were on Rick's, soft and warm and full of a hunger that couldn't be satiated by the Twinkie still in his hands. Rick kissed back, parting his lips to allow the hunter access to his tongue, and Daryl obliged, sliding his tongue past Rick's eager lips and into his mouth. Their tongues met, dancing the tango of lust and need, and Rick brought his other hand up to the base of Daryl's neck to pull him that much closer.
Daryl wanted nothing more than to kiss Rick until they were both blue in the face, but the fingers on the hand still holding the Twinkie were longing to touch Rick as well, and Daryl didn't want to ruin his little cake by throwing it on the floor. So, with a sigh of resignation, Daryl pulled back from Rick's luscious mouth.
"What's wrong?" Rick asked, slightly breathless.
"I just really wanna eat this Twinkie." Daryl chuckled. "You wanna share it with me?"
"Sure." Rick grinned and they both bit into an opposite end of the Twinkie.
They met in the middle, their mouths full of sponge cake and cream filling, and shared the sweetest kiss they'd had since getting together, literally.
Now that his hands were free to do as he pleased, Daryl gripped Rick's shoulders forcefully, pulling him forward until their chests were flush against each other. He moved his lips from Rick's to slide along the man's jawline, nipping and licking as he went. Daryl ended up at Rick's throat, his tongue swirling over the pulse point and making the sheriff groan.
"Want you on top of me, on my lap. Want you to ride me." Daryl mumbled into Rick's skin, his teeth grazing the flesh.
Rick shivered at the man's words and touch, and nodded frantically. "I'd love to." He fumbled with his belt as Daryl continued to ravage his throat, his fingers finally managing to get it undone. He flung it across the room, hearing it clatter against the wall, and then tried to make quick work of the clasp on his jeans.
Daryl undid his own pants at about the same time, squirming around as he tried to pull them down his legs while trying to make sure his mouth never left Rick's skin. It wasn't easy, but he managed to wriggle out of them, and they fell to a puddle on the floor; thankfully, Daryl wasn't wearing underwear that day, so it was one less thing to worry about.
Rick had to stand to kick his shoes off so that he could get out of the jeans and boxers he was still wearing, and both of them were sad to have to break contact. But as soon as Rick was naked from the waist down he positioned himself on Daryl's lap, the redneck's already hard cock pressing right against his ass cheeks. They took a moment to pull their shirts off and throw them to the floor, exposing their perfect bodies to one another.
Rick groaned, wanting so much to have Daryl inside him right that second. But both men knew that preparation was needed before-hand. Daryl brought one hand down to Rick's ass, spreading him wide, spitting on the fingers of his other hand to use as a lubricant. He slowly pushed one finger into Rick, allowing him to stretch around it before he added a second and a third. By that time Rick was writing and groaning, practically begging Daryl to fuck him without as many words. And Daryl was more than willing to oblige him that. He held his cock, guiding it into Rick inch by inch, his other hand moving up to Rick's hip to keep him in place.
Rick was still squirming a bit by the time Daryl's cock was all the way inside him, and that movement was all it took for Daryl to start thrusting his hips upward, slowly at first, gaining speed as he went along.
Daryl moaned, throwing his head back to rest against the window, both of his hands sliding over Rick's supple body. Rick held onto Daryl's shoulders like a man drowning, his eyes closed, groans of pleasure rumbling from deep in his chest.
"Ride me, Rick, like I told you to." Daryl panted, his voice taking on the wonderfully husky, slightly breathless quality that Rick loved so much.
Rick swiveled his hips backward and forward, gyrating them like he was the best belly-dancer this side of the apocalypse, and Daryl's nails dug harshly into his sides as proof that he was doing his job right. A few more hip rotations, and then Rick was bouncing on Daryl's cock, his toes just barely gaining leverage on the tower's concrete floor.
Daryl gasped, a quiet cry escaping his lips, his hands moving back to Rick's hips to help the man move up and down on him. And damn if he wasn't so close to coming, his eyes squeezed tight as his moans grew louder.
Rick, sensing Daryl's impending orgasm, removed one hand from the redneck's broad shoulders and brought it down to grip his own cock, frantically pumping and kneading it, trying to time things just right so that they'd come together.
Daryl's back arched, much like it had when he was outside on the railing, and then he was coming, shooting into Rick with a loud moan. Rick wasn't far behind, with a few more jerks sending him spurting over both of their chests.
Rick stayed on Daryl's lap as the two caught their breath, Daryl's cock softening inside of him. Rick leaned forward and captured Daryl's lips in a loving kiss that did nothing to help the lack of oxygen in their lungs, and Daryl wrapped his arms around Rick's back and pulled him close, the spurts of Rick's come making a squishing sound that sent them both into childlike giggles as he did so.
Finally, Rick got off of Daryl's lap, opting to sit beside him once again. He covered Daryl's hand with his own, giving the fingers a gentle squeeze. "So did your wish come true?"
Daryl smirked. "Sure did."
"Same time next year?"
"Make that next week and you've got a deal."