"What's he lookin' at," Daryl grunted, low enough so that only Rick could hear him. The two of them were seated side by side at the large table usually used for important meetings. This time, however, it was being used for something a little different. Glenn had scored big time, finding a large supply of alcohol on his last run. Alcohol was something that was incredibly hard to come by, considering the fact that it was usually the first thing to get consumed by looters. The group had only found some a handful of times since their brief stay at the CDC, and even then it was in small amounts. They always tried to keep a small stash, just in case they needed to use it as some sort of disinfect or a means to dull intense physical pain when something bad happened, but it was hard to do. They had split this alcohol haul in half, half going to storage for medicinal purposes and the other half going to be consumed by the group, after all, they deserved it.

It was getting colder outside, and even colder in the prison despite their efforts to keep it as warm as possible. Days were hard to count so no one really knew what day it was, but with the cold weather they figured it was relatively close to Christmas. Because of this, they had decided to hold a little Christmas celebration of their own, complete with alcohol and a decent amount of food. Daryl had went hunting and brought back a lot of game. They'd been able to throw random ingredients together to create some sort of stew that, to be honest, really wasn't that bad. They had considered doing something similar to a secret Santa, trying to provide as normal a Christmas celebration they could do, but had decided against it. Only a handful of their group actually went on runs and those people couldn't be held accountable for acquiring everyone's gifts.

Currently most of their group was seated around the table, excluding those who either didn't want to participate or were on watch. Hershel and Bob had left the celebration as soon as the alcohol had been brought out, too afraid of what their alcoholism would do to their self-control, and had taken the younger kids with them. Hershel and Beth had agreed to keep an eye on the younger kids, including three year old Judith, and Bob and Sasha were on watch duty. There were about fifteen people crammed around the mahogany table, all of them laughing and enjoying themselves in a way they hadn't be able to do in a long time. It was so seldom that they ever got to do something like this, just push their worries away and indulge themselves a little, it was liberating to watch everyone have a good time.

"What's who lookin' at," Rick asked, confusion crossing his face. Daryl had had a fair amount to drink, something that was clearly noticeable from the way the archer was carrying himself. Rick had never been much of a drinker, not to mention he thought it'd be a good idea to have at least a few able bodies sober in case something happened, so he had slid Daryl his portion of alcohol as well, which he was now beginning to regret. He had never seen Daryl act this way before, tense and almost angry but at the same time relaxed in that way intoxicated people had.

"Whatcha mean who?" Daryl said, voice rising slightly while still being low enough so that only Rick could hear. "Mister, 'I'm so good lookin' I could turn any man gay,' over there."

Rick followed Daryl's gaze until he caught sight of Bryan. Bryan was relatively knew, had only been there for a month or so. Maggie and Sasha had found him and his brother, Todd, holed up in a rotting Victorian home on a run a few towns over. They'd brought both of them back to the prison to join their ranks. They were both young, Bryan was probably in his late teens and Todd couldn't have been any older than Carl, yet they both had seen almost as much as Rick and his crew had. Sometimes it amazed Rick how resilient the human race was.

Bryan was clearly gay and had no intentions of hiding his sexuality from anyone. He cast lingering looks and made snide comments aimed at everyone, but overall, he was a good guy. He was a jokester but he respected people's boundaries and never went further than what they were comfortable with. Everyone at the prison loved him and his brother, and they both fit in really well with their group. Everyone was cool with his orientation, as they were with Rick and Daryl's relationship. There just wasn't room for any sort of discrimination in the world they lived in.

"Daryl what're ya talkin' about?" Rick asked, even more confused know. As far as he could tell Bryan was focused on the conversation he was currently having with Maggie. "Bryan ain't doin' anything."

"He keeps starin' at ya!" Daryl exclaimed. "He ain't got no right to be starin' at ya, that's my job."

It took a few seconds for Rick to process what had just happened, but once he had he couldn't help but laugh. Daryl Dixon was jealous. "Daryl, he's not even lookin' over here."

"Bull shit. He's had eyes on you since he arrived. It don't matter though. You're mine and he can't have ya," Daryl said, so close to pouting that Rick almost laughed again.

"Oh Daryl, please. He knows he ain't got a chance. He's just a harmless kid, believe me. He may be a flirt but he ain't gonna try to come between our relationship. Plus, he could do better than me," Rick said, resting a hand on Daryl's knee.

"He's been eye fucking you since this, 'celebration,' started and I don' like it." Daryl stared daggers towards Bryan, who was sitting a few chairs over, obviously trying to intimidate the man who wasn't even paying attention.

Daryl had spoken loud enough this time though to gain the attention of the people closest to them, including Bryan. The man looked up at the sound of an elevated voice, which was really bad timing considering the fact that it finally set Daryl off.

"He ain't yers blondie, stick yer eyes back in yer head and find yerself yer own man," Daryl said, causing everyone's head to turn towards him. Daryl stood up quickly, knocking the chair over in his haste and stormed out of the room.

The group's faces were a mixture of shock and amusement, none of them expecting an outburst like that from Daryl. Rick sighed and stood up, fixing Daryl's overturned chair. "Sorry 'bout that," he said to Bryan, "clearly Daryl is a possessive drunk." Rick then turned towards the door and followed after his… well, he wasn't really sure what Daryl was to him, neither one of them liked labels and hadn't really named their relationship. Even though they were basically boyfriends, that term sounded too girly and partner just sounded stupid.

Daryl hadn't gone far by the time Rick had exited the room, he must have been walking slower than usual. "Come on Daryl, what are ya doin'?"

Daryl stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned towards Rick. In a matter of seconds he was striding towards him, his stride picking up the distance between them in no time. Daryl gripped a handful of Rick's shirt and pushed him back, slamming him against the nearest portion of wall with a resonating crack. It wasn't long before Daryl's lips were on his in a bruising sign of domination. Daryl was pressed so hard against Rick that he could practically feel the outline of his muscles against his skin, his arousal causing goose bumps to pop up all over his arms. Daryl thread his hand through Rick's hair and pulled, using the force to deepen their kiss.

Daryl tasted like whiskey and smelt of leather, a combination that always sent blood straight to Rick's dick. His hands, face, and clothes were dirty, but then again, so were Rick's. Rick let out a low moan, involuntarily twitching as his arousal increased. Truth be told, if Daryl wasn't pressed so hard against him he'd probably be on his knees right now, this new sensation making him unable to stand.

Daryl kicked Rick's feet apart slightly so he could slot himself between his legs, their crotches pressed flush against each other. Rick had never been so turned on in his life. Most people would be threatened by Daryl's domineering actions, but Rick's body was hot with need. His entire body felt like he had fire flowing through his veins, warming up parts of him he hadn't even realized he had. Rick had never realized just how much possessive Daryl could turn him on. His entire body was pulsing with need. One of Daryl's hands clamped around Rick's hip, fingernails biting into the bare flesh there, while the other one encircled both of Rick's wrists and held them above his head, leaving Rick completely vulnerable to Daryl's actions. It was slightly painful but Rick didn't care, that factor only heightened his arousal.

Daryl's kiss was rough, his grip was bruising, and Rick's back was digging into the hard concrete wall behind him, but he didn't care. His cock was hard and pulsing, straining against his already painted on jeans. Rick tried to push back against Daryl, tried to do anything to further the pleasure, but Daryl wouldn't let him, only pressing harder against Rick to keep him in place. Rick was at the mercy of Daryl's hands, and he couldn't help but let out a tiny whimper of need.

Rick wasn't sure how long they had staid like that, Daryl's possessive grip keeping Rick in place, but soon enough Daryl was pulling back. Rick gasped at the loss of Daryl's touch and tried to chase him with his lips but Daryl just took Rick's hands, crossed them at the wrists, and splayed them over his head.

"Nobody gets to have you, especially not Victoria Secret in there," Daryl growled. "Only me." Daryl staked his claim by sinking his teeth into the sensitive spot just under Rick's ear, making the man's legs start to shake with the effort to remain standing.

Rick took a few seconds to catch his breath before answering. "Yeah, yeah, I totally get that." He was absolutely winded and so hard he couldn't properly focus on anything.

"We're goin' back to yer cell now," Daryl said matter-of-factly, stepping completely away from Rick. Rick glanced down and noticed that you could clearly see the outline of Daryl's cock against his jeans, meaning he was just as turned on as Rick was.

"Kay," Rick said, still slightly dazed. Rick followed Daryl down the hall towards his cell. He had no doubt they were about to have the best sex he had ever had.