Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: Anon wanted Aaric smut. Thus, we have this monstrosity.
Warnings: Pre-"The Distance" – so before Aaron and Eric spotted Rick and the group. Symptoms of shock/trauma, biting, marking, rough sex, anal sex, possessiveness, furious-we-almost-died-and-I-am-so-angry-at-you-sex, top-Eric and bottom-Aaron.
Paint me pretty (with the colors of that target around your neck)
It was a close call. He was fine. They were fine. Everything was fine. That was what he kept repeating as Eric drove the RV with white-clenched fists. Expression promising murder to the slightest pot-hole as they chugged aimlessly down the curl of the road before turning down a side stretch – familiar hard-packed dirt and dust that coated across the windshield like a second skin.
They were fine.
The woman's gun had jammed.
Clicking loud and useless as a wounded noise hissed through yellowing teeth.
Everything was fine.
He hadn't even been in any real danger when you thought about it.
They were safe now.
Eric had been there.
He'd seen the blood seeping into the dirt.
He'd watched him do it.
Do it for him.
For them.
For-
"Shut up," Eric hissed, angry like he'd been saying all of it out loud as his partner swung the wheel and jerked on the emergency brake. He looked out the side window blankly – coasting through something close to shock as his fingers trembled in his lap. Momentarily blinded when a sheath of sunlight lanced through the trees, reflecting off the side mirror.
The burn made his eyes scrunch shut. Reliving it as the whites of the woman's eyes widened, looking up at him through a tangle of dark curls. Feral. Daring him to do it as she pulled out a bloody knife and his finger tightened on the trigger.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when his door screeched open – stained with rusty hinges and anger. Fumbling around for his seat belt before Eric slapped his hands away and freed him. Pulling him out of the seat when he forgot how to move his legs. Smearing blood spatter like freckles down Eric's arms as the red-head bullied him up the stairs and into the back.
He went without protest when Eric crowded him backwards. Watching him through the fan of his lashes as the man's lips curled back, snarling something unintelligible when his foot got caught on the corner table and Eric had to catch him before he face-planted. Pushing him deeper into the RV, blue eyes burning. Tugging off his jacket and shirt, stripping him down to his jeans before he realized where all this was going and why he suddenly needed Eric pressing down on top of him. Smothering, protective and alive. Why he needed him to-
His dick jerked, twitching with interest when they landed on the mattress with a soft oof. Feeling strangely weightless – dissociated and maybe drunk on it - until Eric rolled them. Pinning him into the crappy futon with barely a pause in the rhythm. Making him groan – surprised and suddenly desperate for it – when their cocks ground together.
He's never seen Eric like this. Pursed, dark and stilly-frantic. It was strange. Arousing. Maybe a bit twisted. But still strange. Strange because Eric was usually a mess of soft edges and whip-crack sarcasm. A melting pot of bubbling humor and enthusiasm. The eternal positive to his negative.
But now-
Now Eric was biting into his lips and reaching for the lube with one flailing hand. Hissing out curses in at least three different languages when it spilled all over – slicking him up to the wrist before streaming down the curve of his elbow to pool in trickling streams down across the sheets.
Unlike every other time, Eric opened him up like an afterthought. Like all this – his comfort and the usual lengthy mess they made out of foreplay – was all secondary. Making him arc and keen as Eric fastened his teeth around the back of his neck and set the skin on fire. Pulling and worrying with his teeth until the nerves were a mess of conflicting signals. Burning heat like liquid pleasure-pain all the way down his spine to settle right in the pit of his stomach. Wetting the sheets with thick dribbles of pre-cum as he rocked into the balled up coverlet.
The words that made it past his clenched teeth were strained and pleading.
But they only made the teeth bear down tighter.
And maybe that was what he wanted because he came embarrassingly easy when Eric added a fourth finger alongside the third. Crooking the tip just so as the nail scraped across his prostate and- jesus fuck!
Only Eric didn't stop. Not even when he squirmed, over-stimulated and maybe whimpering. Nerves over-taxed as cum dripped down across his belly in pearls of opaque-white. Instead the fingers retracted, rough but still careful, before his center of gravity shifted and suddenly he was on his hands and knees – ass up and breathing hard. Having enough sense to anchor himself, fists curling in the sheets before Eric lined up and sank into him without warning.
He bit down on his lower lip until he tasted red. Staring sightlessly at the peeling wall-paper as Eric let go of a whooping breath of air – like a suckerpunch but better because now he knew how wrecked he was. How the anger was a cover for a deeper discussion they'd probably be having later as Eric's nails dug into the curve of his hips and finally started moving.
"Eric, god just-"
Eric fucked him ruthlessly. And he couldn't get enough of it. Getting what he didn't even know he needed as his mind blanked out and the tension in his muscles shuddered and reshaped. The mattress jumped beneath them, riding the press of his hands as he fought to keep himself upright. Breathing in time to Eric's harsh, rattling pants until he surprised the both of them by coming again – painting weak stripes down his thighs as Eric let go of a broken sounding fuck when he clenched around him. Body writhing against him, orgasm building like a slow cramp. Aching and full as the wave tried desperately to crest but something was missing, something-
All he could smell was sex.
Eric.
Oh god, Eric.
He crumpled in on himself, feeling the chafing burn against his palms and elbows as Eric slapped his ass with a vicious crack. Growling into the scruff of his neck. Angry. Desperate. But he just buried his face into the sheets that still smelled like them and let him. Let him use him as his cock tried and failed to harden against his thigh. Tip still crowning cum as he shivered and mouthed at the sweat-stained sheets.
Eric waited until he was flat before he bottomed out again. Enjoying the tight, burning press as he fucked into him with his legs pressed tightly together. This was new. They'd never done this before. And by the sounds his lover was making above him, it showed. Because suddenly, whatever rhythm Eric was following – because there always was a rhythm – was abandoned in favor of snapping down again and again. Pulling a tortured cry out of both of them until Eric suddenly stilled, writhing there. Filling him up with a claim that meant more than any kiss or lingering caress. But with sweat, blood and the acrid salt of flowing tears as Eric collapsed on top of him and they tried to relearn how to breathe together.
Close call or not, it seemed fitting.
A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – This story is now complete.