Notes:
Well, here is my first Rickyl fic! 3
As always, I'm nervous about my story. To be honest, I'm not entirely happy with the way it turned out. But, I figure, may as well start somewhere!
I'm not sure about the timeline on this, but it's when the group is in Alexandria, before the season finale. I hope that everything adds up, but I may have forgotten a plot point and somehow messed up? Sorry if I did! I hope the characters seem in character and that it's written alright in general. I don't have the southern drawl down like so many other wonderful authors do, so I'm sorry about that!
Any reviews or helpful criticism is welcome! Thanks for reading. (:
...
"How long have you known?"
"For a while, Rick."
He glanced out from under the hand that rested against his forehead, his elbow leaning on the kitchen table they were seated at. It was strange to see Carol dressed in suburban housewife clothing, didn't suit the picture of her he had in his mind. In this moment she was the picture of a prim and proper woman, with her legs crossed and a cup of tea sitting daintily in front of her. But Rick could tell her body was tense, saw the way her eyes darted towards all of the entry points to the room every couple of seconds when she wasn't intensely focused on him. Though she perfectly played the part of the docile resident, Carol had never forgotten about the outside.
Despite their safe surroundings, she looked out of place in her light blue sweater and striped shirt. It was an outfit that had been perfectly acceptable before the turn, but the colors she now wore would have drawn unwanted attention while traversing dim woods or abandoned towns. Her dark traveling clothes were packed away in some dresser drawer, no need for them in the safe haven of Alexandria. But despite the disguise her ordinary clothing gave her, there was still that sense of danger that exuded from Carol regardless of the lack of bloodstained outfit or weapons. It all felt so unreal to him. He felt that he should say this to her, had been dealing with these thoughts for a long time. But he realized he was drifting from the main issue at hand with his wayward thoughts and that perhaps Carol would not appreciate his feelings on her apparel at a time like this. Rick let out a deep sigh and rubbed both hands over his face in exhaustion.
"Does anyone else know?" he asked, finally looking Carol straight in the eye.
Carol stared at him heavily and Rick grimaced. "After that display, I'm sure some of them have a pretty good idea," she finally told him, crossing her hands on the tabletop. There was pity in her voice, but Rick could still detect the anger, knew she was severely disappointed in him.
"I didn't mean to act like that. I was just so…" Rick sputtered when he couldn't find the words, throwing his hands in the air with frustration.
"You were jealous Rick."
"I was not!"
"Yes, you were. And you still are."
Her gaze was piercing, seeing straight through him. He knew it was useless to deny his feelings to Carol. She knew him so well, knew he was lying even now. Though he may refuse to name the emotions that swirled inside him aloud, she knew anyway. Rick could hardly stare into her eyes, so instead he pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away, trying to calm down.
When Carol said no more, Rick glanced back at her, unsurprised to find she was still staring unflinchingly at him. "Has he…has he said anything to you about me?" he asked quietly, afraid of the answer.
"No."
Rick nodded at that. He hadn't expected the answer to be different. He wasn't sure if it reassured him or made him feel worse. With another sigh, Rick made to stand, pushing himself away from the table. "I need to apologize to him," Rick announced though Carol had said nothing to try and stop him.
"Yes, you do. And explain your feelings, Rick. He'll understand," she answered, taking a sip of her tea as she finished speaking. Her eyes never left his, glittering with challenge and unwavering strength. She wouldn't let him back down now that he had decided to go.
So he did.
...
(Earlier that day)
Their family hadn't spent much time together as a whole lately. They had all been trying to fit in and find their place in Alexandria without relying on one another. Rick himself had fallen into his old role as sheriff, finding that the citizens that lived within the walls had their own charm that he had grown to care for in his own way. But they couldn't hold a candle to the flame that was his core family, and Rick had decided they needed to meet at least once a week. He pitched it as a way to meet and discuss how their 'infiltration' was going, but most realized that it was also a way to ensure that their bonds never weakened and they remained linked to one another.
It was the night of the first meeting that Rick had organized for their family, and everyone was present except for Daryl. It wasn't uncommon for the archer to arrive late, but when twenty minutes had passed Rick began to grow worried. His friend had been going on supply runs with Aaron and Rick knew that one had been planned earlier that day. Had Daryl even returned home? Had anyone thought to check?
Sensing Rick's nervousness, the group began to grow just as restless. It wasn't long before they set off in search of the other man, separating into three different sets, with Rick on his own. After speaking with Diana and several other Alexandria inhabitants that claimed they had seen Daryl return, the sheriff decided to speak with Aaron directly to get to the bottom of Daryl's disappearance.
With the setting sun at his back, Rick followed his shadow all the way to Aaron's home. His stride was quick and angry, his worry rushing him forward. He knocked frantically on the door, not letting up until Aaron was opening the door with wide eyes.
"Rick?" he asked, blinking uncomprehendingly at the panicked lawman.
He had no time for pleasantries. Instead of a polite greeting, Rick jumped right into the reason for his appearance on the doorstep. "Do you know where Daryl went after your run?" he questioned, his words brisk and authoritative. So help Aaron if he didn't know. He'd have a furious Rick Grimes on his hands.
Frustration mounting as Aaron opened and closed his mouth like a gaping fish at the question, Rick was just about to ask again with less patience when Daryl himself showed up behind Aaron. He was munching on a slice of bread, crumbs clinging to his facial hair, and he was looking at Rick inquisitively. "'ick?" he asked around the mouthful, more crumbs spilling out of his mouth when he spoke.
The sheriff immediately jumped to conclusions. Aaron's discomfort, the fact that Daryl was in his home. Rick thought back to how many runs the two had gone on together in the past couple of weeks. It had been starting to rankle that the two had become so close due to their lone trips and brushes with death, but now he was downright seething with annoyance and another feeling that he couldn't even begin to name.
Forgetting that he was simply there to make sure Daryl was okay, to make sure he had remembered their family gathering, Rick couldn't help but choke out, "Are you two… are you…" He couldn't even finish the sentence, felt like he was going to be sick. He covered his mouth with his hand, gripped his face tightly with it. His hand was shaking and he felt his face heating up.
He had been so worried about Daryl, had feared the worst. And now, here he was completely fine and acting as if he was a bother showing up unannounced. Knowing he should just turn around and leave, but unable to, Rick finally gave in to the annoyance and anger that he felt churning in his gut. "Daryl, what are you doing here?" Not giving the man enough time to answer, Rick continued with, "Do you know what everyone must think you're doing?"
Aaron gasped at that and he blushed, looking at Daryl and then back at Rick in shock. If Rick was being honest, he had surprised even himself, wished immediately he could take back his cruel words. Aaron had never done him wrong, and really, who was he to say that Daryl couldn't have a relationship with the other man? But he was hurt that Daryl hadn't shown up to the meeting. To his meeting. He had never forgotten anything Rick said, had always been at his side when he needed him. It made him furious that Daryl was here instead of with him. He felt himself seething, almost wanting a fight from his friend.
The curious stare from the archer was immediately gone. It was replaced with a furious glare, and the hand that held the rest of the bread clenched in anger, crumbling the food to pieces. "An' what might that be, Rick?" he asked, deathly quiet.
The venom that Daryl had used when using his name made Rick's heart beat painfully. He could feel it cracking, much as it had done when Shane had betrayed him. But the fury that sizzled deep inside would not let go, wouldn't let him back down. He answered Daryl's frown with one of his own and responded with a barely restrained shout, "That you an' this man are having sex!" Before he could catch the redneck's response to that he rounded on Aaron, feeling the need to hurt him as well for stealing Daryl away. "And what about Eric, huh? Are you cheating on him?" His gaze swept over both Daryl and Aaron now and he sneered, "Or are you all three fucking each other?"
Rick watched with satisfaction as Aaron's mortified flush grew as red as the bandanna Daryl kept in his back pocket. He glanced behind Rick, his eyes flicking around before settling back on the sheriff. There was no anger in his gaze, and Rick wondered at the understanding he found there. The other man let out a deep breath before turning around and leaving, pushing past Daryl without saying a word. The sheriff focused on his friend now, looking up into his eyes. He almost wished he hadn't. Daryl was closed off, his arms crossed in front of him, his bangs hiding much of his face.
"I think you should go, Rick," Daryl growled, his stare so full of ice that Rick couldn't help but flinch.
The door slammed shut, rattling the windows near it, before Rick could even fire back a response. It was many seconds before he turned around and he groaned when he saw that most of his family had gathered behind him, watching the interaction between their leader and the loner. Most of them were staring at him with shock, some refused to look his way, while Carol was the only one to march forward. She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards one of the homes the group was sharing, her grip painfully tight.
"Rick Grimes, of all the ways to confess your love for him," she hissed under her breath.
And Rick was too shocked to deny it.
...
(Present)
It wasn't hard to find the archer. Even cooped up in the safe haven, away from his natural habitat and his regular behavior, Rick knew how Daryl worked. Knew he would be wound up and would need to let off steam. Knew his safe spot in this town. Besides, it's where he had left him just an hour ago.
He tried to ignore the clenching in his gut when he realized Daryl's sanctuary wasn't near him.
With heavy steps, the sheriff made his way to Aaron and Eric's home for the second time that day. The garage door was closed, but Rick knew his friend would be inside, working on the motorcycle he'd been gifted. He knocked on the front door of the house, feeling incredibly self-conscious. When Aaron answered the door, Rick shuffled his feet, looking down in a rare moment of insecurity. Clearing his throat, he rubbed at the back of his head, tugging on his curls in an effort to ground himself. "Is Daryl here?" he asked, looking anywhere but in Aaron's eyes.
When Rick finally looked the other man in the face he saw that he was smiling softly, that same strange mixture of sadness and annoyance that Carol had given him. Rick ignored it, instead willing himself to stand still instead of allowing his nerves to get the better of him. "He is," Aaron finally answered, stepping back to allow Rick to enter. "He's in the garage," he added when Rick finally moved forward.
"Aaron, who is it?" a voice from further in the house called out when the front door closed with a soft thud.
"Rick," Aaron answered, smiling at the leader before moving towards the voice.
When the two men rounded the corner Rick saw that it had, of course, been Eric that had called out. He was in the living room, reclining on a plush sofa, his injured ankle at an incline. When he turned to look at them, Rick noted that he looked tired but happy, a large grin on his face as he eyed Rick. It wasn't an entirely friendly grin, however, he soon realized. "Well well well, Rick Grimes," Eric purred, a teasing note to his voice.
Rick stiffened at the sound and he stared at Eric, not sure how to react. The other man's gaze was uncomfortable, even more intimidating than Carol's had been. Eric had not been present during Rick's outburst, but Rick wondered if he had heard it anyway. It wasn't as if the living room was that far from the front door. And if not, Aaron was sure to have told him about it. Shame flooded Rick and he looked away from the injured man, fiddling with the hem of his shirt instead.
"What, no hello from our friendly neighborhood constable?" Eric laughed at his own joke, his eyes crinkling with mirth. "Or is this more than a social call? Are we in trouble?" he asked, bringing his hands to his face in mock horror, feigning shock. "Aaron, I told you we should'a been quiet last night! Noise complaint from the neighbors for sure."
"Eric!" Aaron chided, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at his partner's words.
If Rick had been uncomfortable before, he was now mortified. There wasn't much in this world that could shock him anymore, but apparently sexual innuendos were the ticket. Or perhaps it was the way that Eric had said it, with a knowing look painted on his face to accentuate his words. Rick peeked at the other man, finding no true malice there. A lazy grin was on the injured man's face, and he winked when he caught Rick's eye.
"I'm just teasing him," Eric whined, turning to face Aaron. "No harm done!"
"Well, cut it out," Aaron answered, his cheeks still flaming. Eric was unaffected by the other man's embarrassment, still smiling at his own antics. He waved a hand at the two men before turning back around, picking up a magazine, and flipping through it with dramatic and exaggerated page turns.
"This way," Aaron muttered, turning towards a door that Rick had not noticed before. "The garage is right through here. Do you want me to come with or…?"
"Oh no, don't need ya to come with." The other man retreated at that, wandering over to the living room where Eric was still loudly turning pages. Rick cleared his throat and moved forward, squaring his shoulders. Tense from Eric's words and at the impending conversation, Rick mechanically grabbed the handle to the door. Taking one last deep breath, he turned the handle slightly. "Oh," he suddenly muttered, remembering some of his manners. "Aaron, I'm real sorry for what I said earlier today. I meant no offence." Aaron smiled at him and nodded from over near Eric, and before either man could say anything, Rick had opened the door and entered the garage as quickly as he could.
The light wasn't as strong in the garage, but was still lit well enough that Rick didn't have to wait for his eyes to adjust before looking at the haven Daryl spent so much time in. A lamp had been set up to help better illuminate the workspace, shining brightly at the motorcycle that was parked in the center of the room. The bike gleamed invitingly in the light, but there was no one near it. Music sounded from a stereo that sat near the bike, a song Rick had never heard before blaring from the speakers. Looking around, Rick searched for Daryl. At first he couldn't spot the redneck, but he then realized that the other man was leaning perfectly still on the work bench on the other side of the garage, glaring at him through his bangs. He held a tool in his hand and had grease smudged all over himself. It was obvious he had been hard at work before Rick had entered.
Neither of them moved nor spoke for a few moments, Rick too uncertain and Daryl obviously refusing to make the first move. Finally Rick took a step, watching Daryl from the corner of his eye. The other man didn't flinch or turn away at his sudden movement, which Rick took as a good sign. The sheriff crouched down and lowered the volume on the radio, enough so that they could speak to one another without straining to hear, but also loud enough to give background noise.
"Do you like this group?" Rick asked, nodding towards the stereo.
Daryl didn't react to the odd question for a long time. Instead of answering, he grabbed the red bandanna he always kept in his back pocket and wiped at his sweaty brow. After giving another glance in Rick's direction, Daryl turned and set the tool down on the workbench he had been leaning against. He was now turned away from Rick, his back facing him. There weren't many people that Daryl would lower his guard around and Rick felt his stomach flip-flop. Again, another good sign. At least Daryl's trust in him wasn't broken.
"Never heard of 'em, whoever they are," he continued, staying in his crouched position. "Kinda good."
"They're shit," Daryl finally muttered back, though he hadn't turned around to face him.
Rick rolled his eyes, knowing that Daryl wouldn't listen to the music if he didn't at least somewhat enjoy it. He didn't say so, however. Instead, he was just grateful that Daryl had actually responded at all. Rubbing his hands together absently, Rick struggled to think of a suitable apology in the sudden silence. The crossbow-wielder wouldn't appreciate blubbering and tears, but he wanted to convince the other man that he was genuinely sorry for what he had said. For the first time in a long while, the silence between the self-proclaimed brothers was awkward. It stung that he felt so uncomfortable around Daryl, regretted his cruelty more now than ever. He couldn't lose another best friend, couldn't lose the connection he had with this man.
Desperate to make things right, Rick cleared his throat before speaking. "Daryl, I came here to apologize. I'm real sorry for the way I acted. It was uncalled for and very…inappropriate." The redneck's shoulders were tense and he hadn't moved, but Rick knew he was listening. "I just worry about ya is all. You know me an' how I get about the family."
It was true. He really did care about Daryl. But he had also lied by likening his behavior to how he would act about anyone in their group. Rick may have been in denial about the extent of his emotions and feelings, but he knew that he wouldn't have reacted so explosively if it had been anyone but Daryl. But he couldn't tell the archer that, couldn't push him away any further. Insinuating that Daryl had been having sex with other men was obviously what had set him off before. To admit that Rick may feel more for the archer than friendship… Well, that would be catastrophic.
A full minute passed before Daryl moved. He turned around and glared at Rick again, causing the other man to shift uncomfortably. It was obvious he was still angry, that the apology had done nothing to lessen the offence. He bared his teeth at the sheriff, looking for all the world like a savage animal. "Why were you worried, Rick? 'Cause you thought I was some faggot?" His words dripped with acid, stinging Rick's soul with the vehemence of them.
There it was. His fury that Rick had implied that he was gay. Rick knew that he had to fix this immediately, had to assure Daryl that in no way did he believe that he was interested in other men. "No no no," he rushed out, finally standing in order to face Daryl more fully. He may have wanted the man's forgiveness, but staying crouched on the ground in a submissive gesture wasn't going to win him any favors with Daryl. The fight he had been wishing for earlier seemed to be on Daryl's mind now, and he would give the man what he wanted if they could just go back to the way they were. "I just didn't want you to forget about us. We were supposed to have that meeting tonight, remember?"
Daryl's eyes narrowed at that, obviously trying to figure out if Rick was telling the truth or not. Knowing he was traversing a mine field, Rick risked, "Daryl, I know ya aren't gay."
"An if I was?" the archer challenged, his words still acidic.
He had no idea how to play this one. Either answer could set Daryl off. There was no safe way to move forward. Rick rubbed at the bridge of his nose, trying to decide the best course to take. Honesty, he decided. Or at least, the answer closest to the truth. "I would be fine with it. I wouldn't care if you were, Daryl. You should know that." In truth, the idea of Daryl being gay made Rick feel lightheaded with a giddy sort of joy. Not that the other man being gay automatically assured mutual attraction, but the feelings that were steadily growing stronger for Daryl, the feelings that Rick strove to ignore, squash down, and keep nameless were blossoming further at the fantasy of Daryl having an attraction for men.
Daryl was still glaring at him, his lips curled upward in a furious sneer. Rick began to worry that what he had said had ruined their friendship to the point where it could never be mended. The redneck was still so angry, his emotions so strong that they were almost tangible. Taking a step forward, Rick tried to ignore the way that Daryl stiffened at his approach. "Daryl, I… I don't care if you are gay or not. I just don't want you to forget the family. An' what I said was wrong, okay? I'm sorry." He knew he sounded desperate, pathetic even, but he was beginning to panic again. Before it was because he had thought Daryl dead. But this panic was just as fierce, the idea that Daryl would shut him out. Alive, but dead to him. The thought was agonizing. Rick didn't know if he could take it.
"Get away from me, Rick," Daryl growled, tensing against the workbench. His hands were white-knuckled in their grip on the wood of the bench, his entire body strung out so tightly that Rick could see him shaking from the strain. Despite the warning, despite the real threat Daryl posed, Rick continued to move forward until he was but a foot away.
"What can I do so that you'll forgive me?" he asked as he came to a stop. He could see that Daryl was at war with himself. The man wanted desperately to move away from him, to put some much needed space between their bodies. But he didn't move, kept his cold gaze locked onto Rick's, determination in his steely-eyed gaze. Rick admired him for that, his heart swelling with affection for the archer.
"Ya can start by getting the fuck away from me," Daryl spat between grit teeth, pushing his back further against the bench in order to maximize the distance from Rick.
Normally, Rick would have respected Daryl's need for space. But his desperation wasn't allowing him to think clearly, so instead he took another step, closing the distance between himself and the other man. He could hear Daryl's strained breathing, a low whine bubbling deep in his throat. Rick knew that much of Daryl's anxiety and need for room to escape came from childhood abuse, and he felt like the sickest kind of bastard by not regarding the other man's fears. But he was frantic in his need to make Daryl understand, needed him to accept Rick's apology, and drastic measures seemed the best way to go when dealing with the difficult archer.
Perhaps clearing the air about this whole…gay fiasco would get them on the right track. So Rick gathered his courage and asked with a soft murmur, "Would ya care if I liked men too, Daryl?"
"What the hell Rick?" Daryl groaned, obviously agitated by the question. But for what reason, Rick wasn't sure.
"Ya hang out with Aaron and Eric… Would it really be so strange for ya if I was like that too?" Rick questioned, genuinely curious. He backed off a little, giving Daryl some of the precious space he was so desperate for.
Daryl huffed, anger once again painted on his features. With barely restrained resentment, he lashed out, pushing Rick back further. "Fuck you," he spat, pushing past the sheriff as he made for the door to the garage.
Not willing to let Daryl leave, and before he could question the intelligence of the move, Rick had grabbed at Daryl's shoulder to spin him back around. With a snarl, the redneck swung a punch at his head. Rick just managed to dodge the strike before Daryl was coming after him again, this time aiming a kick in his direction. Returning the attempted attacks with one of his own, Rick managed to tackle Daryl to the ground with one of his takedown maneuvers he had learned from the academy. It soon grew into a roll around tussle on the garage floor, both men grunting and huffing from the exertion of trying to land blows on the other while also taking hits when they landed.
Daryl had more physical strength than Rick, and in a true fist-using brawl the sheriff would have been sure to lose. But Rick was trained, and using several techniques he had picked up through his police work before Daryl realized he could win in and old fashioned fight, he was able to subdue Daryl with a chokehold. The redneck snarled and spat curses in his direction for several moments, trying to loosen Rick's hold long enough for escape. Finally, he settled, silently seething in Rick's not so tender embrace.
"This is not the way I planned for this to go," Rick stated, his voice quiet and forlorn.
Unbelievably, Daryl began to laugh, shaking with mirth. Rick stupidly hoped that their fight would be forgotten. But with a, "Jesus, I would hope not,", Rick realized he still had a long way to go to win Daryl back.
He let go of Daryl and scrambled back after the man had stopped laughing, sure that their short lived fight was over, but not willing to bet that Daryl wouldn't try and turn and get a last swing in. Instead, the crossbow-wielder remained on the floor, eerily silent and still.
"Daryl, I…" He rubbed the back of his head with a hand, trying to find the words that would make Daryl understand without driving him away.
"Jus' don't, Rick." Daryl sounded so tired, as if he was giving up after being on the run for so long. "Ya can quit mockin' me. I know that ya know, okay?"
Mirroring the gaping fish that Aaron too had imitated earlier that day, Rick found his mouth opening and closing at the other man's words. He wasn't sure what Daryl meant. Mocking him? How had he been doing that? "Daryl, I'm not sure what ya mean."
Daryl looked over his shoulder, annoyance clear in his eyes. But he didn't lash out with anger, instead huffing before returning his head to its original positon. "Like I said before Rick: fuck you."
"What the hell does that mean?" Rick growled, stomping over to Daryl and then crouching in front of him so that the other man had to look him in the eyes. "I'm not mockin' you Daryl. I don't even understa-"
Daryl surged forward and grabbed the front of Rick's shirt, the muscles in his forearms bunching with the force of his grip. "Listen Grimes, just 'cause ya know doesn't mean ya have'ta act like an asshole. I'm still the same person." His words were a growl and his teeth were showing again.
"Know what?" he breathed, almost afraid to ask. Daryl was so angry, obviously believed that something had changed between them. What was it the redneck feared so much when it was Rick that had messed up?
"Fer fucks sake, Rick."
And then Daryl pushed him, causing Rick to fall backwards and sprawl on the floor. Before he could recover, Daryl was leaning over him, staring down at him with furious intensity. Rick opened his mouth to further question the archer but the other man had already leaned down and captured his lips with his own. Rick was stunned and was completely still as Daryl moved his lips against his.
It was as if fire and electricity had met to strike and consume him directly on his lips and moved on to affect the rest of his body from there. Daryl was unexpectedly soft, his mouth smooth and gentle against his. Despite the tender pressure from the man crouching over him, the touch from the man he had pined for for so long consumed him. Flames of desire licked at his toes and crept up his legs, while lightning repeatedly struck his heart. His fingers were tingling from the inferno, and the hair on his arms rose as goosebumps stood at attention from the sensations his body was experiencing. He couldn't breathe, so intense was the physical pleasure, and he felt empty when Daryl suddenly pulled away.
"Know now?" Daryl asked, looking down at Rick from behind the curtain of his bangs. He was shutting down again, ready for Rick to lash out in anger from the kiss. Rick couldn't speak. He was dazed from all of the feelings he had experienced, and his muddled brain was still trying to understand just why Daryl had even kissed him in the first place. Could it be possible that Daryl felt some sort of… attraction for him? Rick could hardly dare to hope, but as he thought back over their conversation and the obvious confusion between them, of the way Carol had studied him, the knowing looks shared by Aaron and Eric, Rick couldn't help but feel some sort of optimism begin to nestle firmly in his mind.
Obviously not understanding why Rick was being so quiet, Daryl began to move away. It was clear that he expected Rick's disgust, not the way the sheriff desperately grabbed on to Daryl's wrist. "I think I know," he finally answered, still lying on the floor. "But maybe you could make it a bit more clear for me," Rick murmured, smiling up at Daryl with half-lidded eyes.
"Rick, I swear to God," Daryl growled, thinking that the sheriff was mocking his feelings. Embarrassment was evident in Daryl's tone, and whether it was from Rick's comment or his own actions Rick wasn't sure. He realized that the redneck wasn't going to take matters into his own hands again, and he could admit that Daryl had been far braver than he had been. Instead of chattering nervously and beating around the bush, Daryl had made his move and revealed his feelings.
And Rick had never been happier.
Lifting himself up on his elbows, Rick kept his iron grip on Daryl's wrist as he used his other hand to pull at the back of the archer's neck. "I didn't think you felt the same way," he whispered before his lips met with Daryl's again.
...
As Rick began a new kiss with Daryl, neither of the men noticed the garage door being eased closed and the handle gently being let go.
"I told you!" Eric crowed, leaning heavily against Aaron as they backed away from the door. "I just have a sixth sense about these things," he bragged, chuckling at Aaron's eye roll. He continued to chatter as Aaron helped him limp back over to the couch, going on about how perfect Rick and Daryl were for one another and how he knew they'd end up together since he met them.
"It was wrong to spy on them," Aaron scolded, sitting down beside Eric.
"I guess I need to be punished then," Eric murmured, pulling in Aaron for a kiss of their own.
...
More Notes:
I hope everything was clear in this fic. Hope that Rick and Daryl's miscommunication didn't make it too hard to follow for the reader! And hopefully they actually talk through their feelings and make things clear once they quit kissing! ;D
I originally intended for there to be smut in this, but it just didn't feel right! These two are so sweet together, but I don't see them rushing into sex. Maybe another chapter someday, or in another fic.
Again, I hope they weren't too out of character or anything. I love Rick and Daryl, but I'm not sure I write how they would actually act.
Any reviews or comments are welcome. Thank you for reading, and hope you enjoyed!