Daryl sat on the front porch with the permanent sour look he always kept on his face. This time he had something to be pissy about. He and Rick spent most of the day running around some young long-haired motherfucker who tried to steal their supply truck. Daryl was ten shades of pissed and sore from the unnecessary physical exertion. He'd make Jesus pay for the tense muscles and achy back that screamed with every motion of the hunter's weary body.
Rick nudged Daryl, making him grunt and glare at the older man. Rick raised an eyebrow, sensing Daryl's grumpy demeanor.
"You should go get cleaned up. I'd hate to break it to ya...for the fourth time this week...ya stink," Rick chided, smirking as Daryl elbowed the cop hard in the ribs.
"Fuck you, Grimes," Daryl mumbled, cutting his eyes at Rick. Honestly, Daryl was slightly relieved Rick was finally talking to him after the bomb Daryl dropped on him last week. It had been awkward since he finally came out to Rick. Literally. Let's just say there were a few beers and a kitchen table involved.
The mere thought of that night made a shiver run down Daryl's spine. With a flushed face, the Hunter got up and stomped into the house, slamming the door behind him with an ear piercing crack.
Daryl was glad he'd opted for his own house in Alexandria instead of sharing it with someone. Many things changed with him when he grew close to the group, but he still liked to be alone. Daryl climbed the stairs with small grunts escaping his lips, his back aching as he meandered to his room. He froze in his doorway, his eyes settling on Jesus, who had apparently found Daryl's hidden bottle of Jack.
"What the fuck are you doin' in my house," Daryl growled as Jesus smiled before he set the mostly full bottle back onto the dresser.
"I was just looking around," Jesus answered, tucking a piece of his long hair behind his ear. Daryl's eyes kept flicking to the bottle—He'd found it fair and square rummaging through the empty houses within the safe zone. It had been awhile since he'd had a decent drink, and was not up to sharing the whiskey.
"Yeah, rummaging around in my shit," Daryl said, his voice echoing off of the bedroom walls. Jesus grabbed the glass bottle and held it up, the amber colored fluid sloshing around, making Daryl's stomach flip flop.
"What, does this embarrass you?" Jesus chuckled as Daryl set his jaw. It wasn't that Daryl was embarrassed to have someone know he drank, it was more he didn't want to share. Daryl tried to lunge for the bottle but Jesus was a little quick for him. Hell, Jesus proved that when Daryl was running after his ass all over that field. Talk about a work out that Daryl was not expecting from the spindly fucker who had the balls to rummage through a stranger's bedroom without a second thought.
"Give it," Daryl growled, holding his hand out expectantly. Jesus took a step back and shook his head.
"I don't think I want to. Do you know how hard it is to find this stuff out here?" Jesus asked, shoving the bottle in his pocket. He buttoned his pocket and attempted to get past Daryl, who shoved him backwards and immediately went for his pocket, making both of the men tumble to the floor in a struggle.
"Goddamnit, hold still ya prick," Daryl grunted, his hand grabbing at the buttoned pocket. Daryl was struggling to restrain himself from just beating the hell out of Jesus right there and then. Jesus squirmed under the hunter, trying to get up.
"I said hold still," Daryl growled, grabbing Jesus's throat and slamming him back to the floor. Jesus' cock grew hard against Daryl, making Daryl's eyes narrow. Maybe Daryl had an idea to make Jesus pay for the sore muscles from the run in the pasture earlier in the day. It was like a bad episode of Benny Hill, set in the apocalypse-not nearly as funny, and running from things trying to eat you.
Jesus opened his mouth to smart off, his eyes widening when Daryl reached in between them and roughly grabbed the thick bulge straining Jesus' cargo pants. Daryl smirked to himself before moving in to push his lips onto the lips on the man beneath him, roughly prying Jesus' lips apart with his tongue. Jesus groaned into Daryl's mouth, his nails digging into the hunter's corded biceps.
A primal growl bubbled in Daryl's throat as he grew almost animalistic. His fingers prying under Jesus' t-shirt as Daryl damn near ripped it from the younger man's body. This is exactly what Daryl has needed to get out of his system. Sure, his experience with Rick was alright but it wasn't rough...he needed the aggression to satiate the primal side of himself.
"On the bed. Now," Daryl barked, grabbing Jesus by the arm and jerking him up. Jesus obeyed, grunting as Daryl grabbed him by the hair and jerked his face eye level to his exposed cock. With another jerk of Jesus' long hair, the man eagerly took Daryl's thick cock into his mouth.
Daryl completely let loose, jerking his hips forward until Jesus gagged. 'This isn't enough,' Daryl thought before shoving Jesus back onto the bed. Jesus looked up at Daryl, his clear blue eyes dark with lust and longing.
"Don't you say a fuckin' word," Daryl growled, yanking Jesus' cargo pants from his toned legs, the pants carelessly forgotten on the bedroom floor.
Daryl was more than pleased to see Jesus' painfully hard cock thud against his washboard stomach. He wasted no time wrapping his hand around it and giving it a few strokes. Jesus' hips twitched, his hands fisting the sheets as he moaned loudly. Daryl spit on his hand and continued to slowly pump Jesus' rigid cock, a satisfied smirk on his face.
"Do-..don't stop," Jesus breathed, feeling Daryl release him. Daryl almost towered over him, his grip tightening on Jesus's hips as he less than gently flipped him over.
"You don't tell me what to do," Daryl snarled, jerking Jesus onto his knees.
"Fuc-,"Jesus mumbled, his words sticking in his throat when Daryl shoved a spit covered finger inside of him. Daryl could've moaned at the sight before him. Jesus was bending and submitting in all the ways Rick hadn't. Daryl needed someone to bend to his will, rather than Daryl being the one to bend.
Daryl promptly reached into the oak nightstand drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube, the label peeling off the battered plastic of the container. He slathered the oil onto his cock, still holding Jesus in his place with one well placed hand. Daryl slowly guided his throbbing cock into Jesus's tight ass, letting out a string of curses as muscle pulsed around him.
The Hunter gave no time for Jesus to adjust before he brutally began snapping his hips forward, bottoming out in the younger man.
Jesus moaned freely, almost ripping the sheets from the mattress as Daryl slammed into him. The moans and gasps egged Daryl on, his calloused hand roughly jacking Jesus off as he thrusted hard from behind. Daryl's hard and deliberate thrusts were bound to leave bruises on Jesus's tight ass.
"You don't cum 'til I do," Daryl warned, making Jesus grunt in protest. Jesus completely lost his hold on the small scrap of reality in the moment of fevered heat, his cum coating Daryl's hand. Daryl cursed, Jesus' body pliant and still beneath Daryl as he pulled out- marking Jesus on his lower back.
Daryl collapsed beside the younger man, feeling satisfied for once. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was sitting on the end of the bed, taking a long pull from it. Daryl didn't want to share by any means, but offering Jesus a drink wouldn't kill him.
"Hey," Daryl said, his tone soft as he nudged Jesus. The younger man grunted in response, not moving from the flattened haphazard position Daryl had left him in. The Hunter raised an eyebrow, nudging him once again.
"Roll over, would ya?" Daryl asked, taking another quick sip from the bottle. Jesus obeyed, rolling over with a grunt as he looked at Daryl, his eyes still glazed.
"Wanna drink?" Daryl offered, Jesus looked at him surprised.
"Last time I checked, you were hell bent on not letting me have any," Jesus answered cockily, taking the bottle from Daryl's hand and downing a few drinks.
Daryl shrugged, messing with one of Beth's braided bracelets on his wrist. He wondered if Beth would've been proud that he was finally coming to terms with himself. Beth was the first one that he admitted his sexuality to, back in the moonshine cabin.
"What's on your mind?" Jesus asked, his startling blue eyes trained on Daryl. Daryl shrugged, muttering something along the lines of 'nothin''. Unfortunately, Jesus wasn't one to leave questions unanswered.
"That's a nice bracelet. Haven't seen a leather one like that before," Jesus said, earning setting slow nod from Daryl who was obviously trying to avoid the subject.
"Listen, Jesus….whatever the fuck your name is, I'm gonna go get in the shower. You're welcome ta join me," Daryl said, figuring that sex would be easier than talking about his dead friend.
Daryl got up, his muscles flexing as he stretched. Jesus' mouth almost watered, his eyes washing over Daryl's firm muscled body. Jesus followed Daryl to the bathroom like a horny teenager, wanting one more taste like his life depended on it. He'd save the questions for later.