The first time it happened, Daryl was on his way back to the prison. Stumbling through the woods on his own, because that stupid fucking mist had managed to make him woozy, on top of everything else.
He'd ignored the first spark of arousal on principle. And even when it had grown to something low and throbbing in his veins, something that had him stiff and jolting with each accidental rub against the fly of his cargoes, Daryl still tried to put it out of his mind.
He needed to get back to the prison. Needed to get his too-flushed, sweaty, vibrating body back where it was safe. Because he couldn't exactly take care of his growing problem out here with walkers roaming about, and no one to watch his back.
So Daryl picked up the pace. He shuffled along faster, increasingly unsteady, until he knew that in just ten minutes' time he'd be walking out of the treeline with the prison in sight.
Of course, that was when it happened. When he was so close to home that he could practically smell the sweet and salty licks of Carol's stew seeping out through the windows. It hit him like a runaway truck. Arousal so forceful it had him stumbling backwards into the closest tree, and depending on it for support when his legs turned to jello.
Daryl threw his head back. He gazed at the leaves above him. And a whimpered "fuck, no" was all he could get out before he was coming where he stood, jerking his hips forward into the air and moaning in helpless pleasure.
It was the longest thirty seconds of his life before he could pull himself together well enough to continue on. He didn't bother cleaning up, figuring a warm shower was only a hop, skip, and a jump away at this point. Plus, it was a relief that whatever the hell that had been was out of his system.
A relief, until his cock twitched itself back to life only five minutes later, wanting and desperate as ever. It was a mad dash through the prison, dodging inquisitive eyes and warm greetings and hoping to whatever god was left that he could hold off the inevitable until he was safely in his cell.
He pulled the privacy curtain shut and jerked open in his fly in a frenzied rush. And Daryl had only just managed to wrap a hand around his aching length when pleasure hit him so hard his knees buckled. The archer came kneeling at the foot of his bed, panting and whimpering and more than a little frightened.
Daryl headed to the showers next, grateful to find them vacant in the early afternoon. He left his clothes in a pile in the corner, figuring he'd burn them later. Sighing, the hunter stepped under the spray, already cringing at the heat that was settling low in his belly.
He scrubbed himself raw.
Still, it happened three more times before he shut off the water in defeat. Once with his fist shoved into his mouth, barely concealing a moan. Another with both hands against the wall, cock streaking white across the tile even though all that had touched it was the water dripping down his body. When the third rolled around, Daryl was cupping his balls in a grip tight enough to hurt. Even that didn't seem to forbear the inescapable.
When he returned to his cell, Daryl angrily pulled on a clean shirt and pair of pants. It was only seconds before that familiar throb returned tenfold. Recognizing that his options were severely limited, Daryl mustered up the courage to make the not-so-long walk over to Rick's cell.
"Uhh...Rick?" Daryl rasped, after clearing his throat awkwardly from the hall.
"What's up?" Rick questioned, looking up from where he sat on the bed.
"Yeah. Uh, just lemme…" Daryl quickly slithered inside, pulling the curtain shut and thanking god that Beth had Judy for the day. He stood in front of Rick anxiously, shifting his weight from foot to foot and trying to deduce some rational way of explaining all this.
"Daryl?"
"Something happened," Daryl blurted out in a rush.
Rick was immediately on his feet. "Today in the woods? Are you bit? Jesus, Daryl-" He reached out to the younger man without thinking, hands grazing up his torso and over his neck in a way Daryl knew was only clinical, but set him off all the same.
"Fuck, Rick. Don't," Daryl hissed, before his body seized up on itself yet again. His hand fisted into Rick's shirt in a haphazard attempt to keep upright, and his body curled forwards towards the only person he'd ever trust in a moment this vulnerable. Daryl whimpered when he came. A sound so astoundingly different than the limited grunts and hisses Daryl would let loose the few times he'd verbalized his pain that Rick couldn't help but identify it.
The archer was glaring at the ground, too ashamed to straighten his spine.
"Daryl," Rick said slowly, "Did you…?"
"Something happened when I was out in the woods," Daryl muttered towards the cement floor, "Stepped on some flowers- some kind I ain't never seen before. And when I crushed 'em, this mist came out. And I inhaled it- couldn't help it. And now I can't stop it. It- it won't stop."
Rick placed a hand on Daryl's shoulder, much more carefully this time. "Hey, it's alright," he said softly, "It's gonna be fine. How long...I mean, how many times…?"
"Happened 'bout two hours ago," Daryl mumbled, "And since then, I think that was the sixth..."
"Jesus, six?" Rick gasped, "Fuck, that's not normal, is it? We've gotta get you to Hershel-"
"Fuck no!" Daryl instantly growled. "There ain't a chance in hell I'm letting him see me-" he cut himself off mid-sentence, blushing even harder than before.
"Okay," Rick said. "Okay, then you stay here while I go talk to him. Alright? 'Cuz I ain't gonna pretend I've got the first clue on how to deal with this."
Daryl nodded sullenly and sat down on Rick's bed, not even bothering to look up in any attempt to meet the other man's gaze. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, tried to count the moments before arousal would hit him again, like a child counting sheep before bed.
He drifted. Not quite out of consciousness, but to somewhere where the want settling into his bones didn't burn quite so sharply. It was the dip of the bed sometime later that brought him out of it. Rick's hand settled back on his shoulder. And while with anyone else, Daryl would have bolted upright, utterly unwilling to remain in such a weak position, Rick was the exception. The archer kept his arm thrown over his face, hiding. He turned slightly towards the space where Rick sat.
"What'd he say?" Daryl asked, the words coming out as more of a sigh.
"He's heard of something like this before, for animals," Rick started to explain, "Plants that come up at certain times of year, this time of year, springtime- that make them go into heat." Daryl picked his arm up off his face and frowned at the ex-Sheriff. "It makes them want to mate," Rick clarified bluntly, "Have sex, so they'll reproduce. Hershel hadn't heard of anything like that affecting humans, but with dead people walking around, I suppose it isn't impossible."
"Did he say how long it'd last?"
"A day, maybe less. Hershel figured your body was reacting to this...pollen, the same way it would to any kind of allergen. Your immediate reaction will be intense, and then taper off as it works its way out of your system."
"At least it'll stop eventually, then. That's something," Daryl muttered. "M'guessin' there ain't no treatment? Meds for this kind of thing?"
"You could try an anti-inflammatory. Benadryl maybe...but Hershel said that this wouldn't be dangerous, so long as someone sticks with you to keep you hydrated, and fed, and makes sure you don't hurt yourself," Rick told him. "I- I volunteered...but I could get Carol, if you'd be more comfortable. Or-"
"Christ, no," Daryl groaned, "Ain't havin' her here while I'm like this."
"Really? I thought the two of you were…"
"Me and Carol? Fuck no! She's family," Daryl replied emphatically.
Rick tried not to read too far into the spark of joy that came with Daryl's denial. "Oh! Well in that case, I can-"
"You ain't stayin' neither," Daryl cut him off. "S'embarassing enough, without someone watching. Christ. I can manage on my own."
"I know you can, but you don't have to," Rick protested, "I'm not leaving you, Daryl."
"What, you some kinda perv now?" Daryl spat back angrily.
"I can't risk you hurting yourself because you're too stubborn to accept some help."
"And what kinda help you offerin', Rick? You gonna gimme a hand?"
Rick frowned, taking a moment to construct his response. "Yes, if you'll let me."
Not what Daryl had expected. Not what he'd expected at all. He floundered for a solid minute.
"But, but you're-"
"What, straight?" Rick helped him along, shooting the archer a small smirk. "Hate to break it to you, but I've been bi for about as long as I knew what my dick was for." He licked his lips slowly, surprised to see that Daryl's expression resonated confusion rather than anger or disgust.
"You never said anything," Daryl replied finally. His cock was pressing up against the zipper of his jeans again. Fuck. Just, fuck.
"You never asked," Rick said simply, "And it never seemed important. I was loyal to my wife."
"So now...now, you want…" Daryl sighed deeply, looking lost, "What do you want?"
"I want you to let me help." Rick said softly, "I want you to want me to help. But if you don't, if that's not something you can do, then we never have to talk about it again. I'll have Carol check in on you, and I'll stay out of it. But I think...I think there was a reason you came to me."
"Wouldn't have gone to anyone else," Daryl admitted softly, and Rick sent an even softer smile back. The hunter scrubbed a hand over his face. "Can't stay here," he said finally, "People could hear."
"The boiler room, then," Rick suggested with enough finality for Daryl to immediately nod his consent. "You head down with some blankets and pillows. I'll grab water, food, whatever else we'll need, and I'll meet you there in ten."
Daryl stood up quickly, and winced when rough denim rubbed over his sensitive flesh.
Rick stopped and appraised him. "Can you make it down there?"
"Yeah," Daryl rasped, not entirely sure, but certainly determined. "Just...hurry."
TWDTWDTWDTWD
Daryl paced back and forth when he made it the boiler room. It was just about the longest ten minutes of his life. And while he was tempted to take care of the problem on his own, the prospect of Rick walking in on him like that was too mortifying to entertain.
Instead, he wore down a divot in the floor.
And then Rick walked through the door, and Daryl's dick made a valiant attempt to break straight through the denim imprisoning it.
"That can't be comfortable," Rick commented, looking down towards Daryl's groin after depositing his bag by the archer's makeshift bed.
"It ain't," Daryl replied, jittery with anxiety now that this was really fucking happening.
Rick approached him slowly, walking the younger Dixon back until he was pressed up against the wall.
"Never been with a guy," Daryl breathed out in a rush, figuring that was the kind of information the ex-Sheriff might need at a time like this.
Rick hummed in acknowledgement, and dropped one hand to pop open the button on Daryl's pants. "Girls, though?" He didn't want to presume.
It took Daryl a few seconds to answer. "A few. Not that many," he sucked in a shuddering breath as Rick lowered his fly. "Never liked being touched much. Even like that."
The older man froze. "Daryl, we don't have to-"
"No, I want to," Daryl bit out hurriedly, "I do. Just…" It's just that I have no idea what I'm doing. It's just that I've never let myself want this and I've never trusted anyone as much as I trust you and I'm fucking terrified.
"We'll go slow," Rick soothed, "And if there's ever anything you don't want, just tell me. I'll stop."
"Know you will," Daryl murmured, "Trust you."
Rick smiled at him, and wrapped a hand around his length.
"Movin' kinda fast, ain't ya?" Daryl groaned, trying not to sound too desperate.
Rick looked up in surprise, then let out a low laugh.
"Daryl Dixon's a romantic, huh?" Rick chuckled, and before Daryl could understand what the other man meant, Rick Grimes' lips were on his.
It should have shocked him. Probably should have had Daryl shoving the other man back in a fit of rage, and beating him to the ground because Dixons sure as hell were not fags.
Instead, Daryl melted right into the kiss. He let Rick take the lead, like he always did, and quickly surmised that kissing Rick Grimes felt a hell of a lot like talking.
What were they saying? Daryl couldn't decide. Maybe, I want this. Or, I won't hurt you.
It shouldn't have surprised the archer that kissing Rick came as naturally as fighting by his side. And it didn't; not really. What did surprise him were the feelings bubbling up in his chest from being touched so gently and purposefully by the man in front of him. Or perhaps from being touched at all after so many years of avoiding situations like this.
One of Rick's hands cupped Daryl's cheek, while the other dropped down between their bodies once more.
"You don't have to hold back," Rick murmured into their shared air as he wrapped his hand around Daryl's throbbing length, "C'mon, I want to see you."
Like he could have held back if he tried.
Daryl slammed his head back into the wall and scrunched his eyes shut.
"Fuck, ah-!" was all he could get out before he was coming all over Rick's hand, milky white dripping down calloused fingers and onto the floor.
"There you fucking go," Rick groaned, milking out the last of the man's orgasm even when Daryl squirmed at the sensation. He wiped his hand on his jeans and smirked devilishly. "That's seven."
"Shit," Daryl panted, "Don't remind me."
It was easy from there to let Rick lead him back towards the "nest" he'd created.
"How long do we have?" Rick asked him, as Daryl allowed the man to rid the lower half of his body of clothing.
"Shortest was five minutes," Daryl said, "Longest was 'bout twenty."
Rick's fingers hovered over the top button of Daryl's shirt. Peering out at him from under his bangs, Daryl nodded curtly, permitting Rick to strip him of that too and leave him completely bare.
The ex-Sheriff had just taken his shirt off when Daryl mumbled, "Wasn't so bad, before."
Rick frowned at him. "You thought it would be bad?"
"No!" Daryl was quick to say. "Shit, that wasn't what I meant. S'just, the other times it happened, it kinda hurt too. Dunno how to explain it right. Was like cummin' while getting punched in the gut."
Rick grimaced at the imagery. "Well," he ventured, "What was different a few minutes ago?"
"Other than the fact that it wasn't my hand on my dick?" Daryl replied dryly, "Probably...probably that I wasn't tryin' to keep it from happenin', that time."
"Maybe that's the difference, then," Rick said, "When you try to fight it, that's when it hurts. But you don't have to, now. You're somewhere safe, and...and you've got me."
"S'true," Daryl murmured, watching Rick slide out of his own jeans. He kept on his briefs, much to Daryl's relief. Even if he was sure he wanted this, he knew being confronted with a naked Rick this soon after accepting that a naked Rick was something he'd like to see would completely overwhelm him. Even so, Rick's growing member was clearly visible through the thinning fabric. Daryl swallowed hard.
Rick knelt down beside Daryl and placed his hands on both of the archer's broad shoulders. They kissed slow and deep.
"Can I put my mouth on you?" Rick whispered. And Daryl's brain shorted the fuck out.
"You- Fu- I-"
"Shh," Rick murmured, pushing Daryl to lay down fully. The archer propped himself on his elbows, still not quite fathoming what Rick could possibly-
"OH, fuck!" Daryl shouted as Rick latched onto one of his nipples and bit down softly. He'd never even thought to touch himself there before, let alone allowed someone else to do it for him. Just like that, his cock was twitching needily against his belly.
Rick pulled back and blew softly, watching the archer tremble.
"Never would have guessed you'd be so sensitive," Rick murmured, moving on to the opposite nipple and paying it the same tortuous attention. "I'm guessing it's because I'm one of the only people you've ever let touch you like this. And I like that. Fuck, I like it a lot."
Daryl's hips were canting upwards of their own accord, rutting against Rick's hard stomach as the older man's mouth licked and bit its way down his torso. He stopped at a hip bone that jutted out attractively, grazed his teeth over the thin skin until a sharp cry burst its way out of Daryl's chest.
"Rick," Daryl panted, as the leader's lips descended lower, and lower. "Rick, what are you-?"
He didn't have to finish his question when Rick looked up to catch his eye while carefully pulling one of Daryl's legs over his shoulder. It quivered against the ex-Sheriff's back, and Rick ran his knuckles over the strong thigh until Daryl finally allowed Rick to support him, letting out a long breath.
"Only done this once, and I was pretty young then," Rick said softly, "You'll have to tell me if I do something wrong."
"Don't think that's possible," Daryl muttered under his breath, and Rick smiled broadly.
The ex-Sheriff leaned forward, and as he held Daryl's gaze, licked a broad stripe over Daryl's nuts. He watched grinning, as the younger man's cock twitched wildly.
"Fuck," Daryl gasped, "Fuck, Rick…"
Smirking victoriously, Rick dipped down his head and gently took one of Daryl's nuts into his mouth, laving his tongue over the sensitive orb.
"Jesus, fuck!" Daryl shouted, back arching in a way that was downright sinful and hands fisting into the blankets below him. "Fuck," he panted, "Oh, fuck. Can't. M'gonna-"
Daryl blindly groped for his twitching length, only for Rick to snatch his wrist out of the air and pin it roughly to the floor. The wave of arousal that crashed into Daryl from being restrained like that, coupled with the feel of Rick's mouth on his body, had the archer spilling onto his own chest in no time. Daryl shouted out Rick's name towards the ceiling as his cock pulsed untouched.
"Oh, God," Daryl panted when Rick finally released him, "Fuck. Fuck, I-"
"That was so hot," Rick cut him off. "Has that happened before? Without touching…?"
Daryl nodded with his eyes closed. His chest was still heaving. "Just since whatever happened in the woods. Ain't never happened 'fore that."
"I'm gonna make you do it again," Rick promised, crawling up Daryl's body."You've got no idea how long I've wanted to."
Daryl opened his eyes to look at him. "I don't know. How long, I mean."
Rick smiled at him with a soft gaze. "First time I considered it? Probably in Atlanta. That was time I ever depended on you, got to work with you, side by side. But the first time I realized I wanted more from you than sex? Our winter on the road. The night you came and joined me during my watch, 'cuz ya knew I was too exhausted for it. And knew I was too damn stubborn to admit it. So you sat down next to me, started talkin' real low...don't even remember what about. But next thing I knew it was light out, and you hadn't moved a muscle."
"Mmm," Daryl hummed, "Ya needed the sleep." He turned onto his side to face Rick, not minding the closeness nearly as much as he thought he would. "But what's 'more'?"
"Not what you think," Rick was quick to say, "Would never push you into something you didn't want. But I care about you. You're family, and maybe, maybe more than that. You know that, right?"
Daryl licked his lips, and tried not to focus too hard on the way his dick was twitching and straining already. He nodded. "I know."
"Good," Rick said, before leaning forward and claiming Daryl's lips again. He was slower about it the second time, taking the chance to savor every stuttered breath and involuntary twitch that Daryl offered him. By the time Rick pulled back, Daryl was leaking into his hand, and thrusting shallowly into Rick's teasing grip.
"When's the last time you got a blow job?" Rick asked him.
Daryl sucked in a sharp breath. "Fuck. Years." Then, Rick was sliding his way down Daryl's body again, and one of Daryl's hands migrated to the older man's face, stroking his cheek with rough fingertips. "Ain't gonna last long."
"Don't need you to," Rick murmured, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the inside of Daryl's thigh. "I just wanna taste you."
The archer let out a low whimper that became a full-fledged moan when Rick wrapped his lips around his cock. Rick swirled his tongue over the sensitive head, and dug gently into the slit. Daryl hissed, and his hips jerked upwards reflexively, desperate for more of the sensation Rick was giving him.
"Rick, please," Daryl gasped. He carded his fingers through the older man's curly hair, pressing down softly. But Rick ignored him, instead opting to kitten-lick his way down the thick and twitching shaft, keeping Daryl's eye all the while.
"Fuck," Daryl panted. He wasn't sure if he was teetering this close to the edge this soon because of that damn pollen, or because of Rick's talented tongue. But he forgot to be embarrassed when Rick wrapped his lips around his teeth and slowly sucked in Daryl's length as far as it would go.
Rick hummed contentedly when his lips met the base, purring around Daryl's member in a way that had the younger man's shoulders shooting up off the floor, and a harsh cry jolting from his lips.
Daryl could feel a ball of heat coiling low in his stomach, and burning brighter by the second. He thought it might expand abruptly and consume him, take down most of the East Coast too. Rick had built up a rhythm, tongue flicking over the tip with every downward motion. And it was becoming increasingly difficult to prevent a whimper from escaping each time Rick's mouth descended his length.
"Rick," Daryl moaned, voice getting higher with the drawn out word, as if he were asking a question. Sex wasn't supposed to feel like this. Sex was hard and fast and good, but it wasn't supposed to make your insides turn to lava. Certainly wasn't supposed to disable every muscle in your body so they would twitch and jump however they desired. Sex was not supposed to make your heart ache, race, and expand until it was practically beating down the inside of your chest.
The breaths Daryl was letting out now were shuddering and stuttered. Rick reached up and took Daryl's hand in his, rubbing his thumb gently over the younger man's knuckles. But then Rick's free hand vanished underneath him. It cupped Daryl's balls, rolling them in his palm while the archer moaned and shook his head frantically. Then Rick's hand dipped even lower, a finger slick with sweat rubbed in slow circles over a pucker of muscle that twitched in unfamiliar pleasure. And when that finger pressed in gently, and the tip of Daryl's cock roughly met the back of Rick's throat, Daryl couldn't hold it anymore.
"Rick!" Daryl groaned. "Gonna come. Gonna come. Gonna-"
His entire body shook, curled in on itself as waves of trembling and bliss crested all at once. Daryl poured himself down Rick's throat with a moan that shook through the room. He came longer and harder than he ever had before, until he was sobbing with it.
When Rick finally released him, suckling for ever last drop, Daryl collapsed onto the floor, still shaking uncontrollably. The ex-Sheriff immediately crawled back up Daryl's body, and shoved his arm under Daryl so he could pull the younger man half onto his chest. Daryl didn't fight him.
"Shh, you're alright," Rick murmured as he stroked over Daryl's sweaty hair. "You're alright, now. Did so good."
Daryl tried to blink his eyes open, and saw that Rick was as hard as ever. He reached towards him with a quivering hand, "You're still...lemme…"
"Stop," Rick said gently, taking Daryl by the wrist and curling his arm back up towards his heart. "You're exhausted. When you come, all your muscles contract. Breathing, pulse, blood pressure all skyrocket. And you've done it more in the last few hours than you probably have in weeks. Give your body some time to recover, alright? I'll still be here, afterwards. I'm not going anywhere."
"But," Daryl mumbled against Rick's chest, voice already so sleep-addled that it made Rick smile. "But I wanna, I do, I-"
"Shh," Rick soothed him again, keeping his voice low and even, "Just sleep, now."
Daryl was boneless beside him. His breathing had already gone slow and deep.
"Thank you," Daryl whispered. And he passed out finally, knowing Rick would still be there when he awoke.