Daryl sat behind the others around the low fire, sharpening his hunting knife, spitting on the whet stone, scraping it slow, drawing the blade across it in a leisurely pass up...down...up...down, the metal making a quiet scree-sound as it came in contact with the oil-slick block resting on his thigh.
He watched her, arms folded across her chest, her feet propped up against a log, toes pointed towards the fire. She was quiet tonight, unusually quiet, as she drank a second cup of instant coffee from the heavy old percolator on the fire. It was chilly and Dale had brought out a bottle of peppermint schnapps, which was being passed around to help with the taste of the somewhat-stale coffee. Daryl could smell the sickening-sweet mint-y aroma as they all talked, reminisced about life before the outbreak, how things used to be. The smell of old candy canes hung like a cloud in the damp chilly air around them.
She rose, looking him straight in the eye briefly. There is was again, the outside corner of her left eye twitching every so slightly, almost imperceptibly. She said her goodnights and walked to her tent, cup still in hand, disappearing into the darkness, only the long ziiiiip of the tent door opening, then another ziiiiiip to indicate that she had closed it after her. Daryl watched her walk, the thin hoodie and sweatpants hugging her curves, watching her ass as she moved away from him. His nerves were raw, irritated. He felt like he was the knife edge, being drawn, dragged against the cold gray stone, losing a tiny microscopic layer of himself with each pass, each sway of her hips. His will becoming thinner and thinner, wearing down every time she looked at him.
He finished his work on the blade, wiping the thin coating of oil on his pants, and returned the knife to the sheath on his belt, rising and slipping away unnoticed. He walked to his tent without a sound, removing his belt and shirt before he laid down on the stale blankets, his head on the pillow, arms laying over his eyes. He nodded off quickly, dozing lightly, always one ear on the alert for any sound, any unusual movement, anything that shouldn't be.
His eyes flew open and Daryl sat up. He heard a slow clicking sound, a tent opening slowly, the zipper gliding tooth by tooth. Someone not wanting to be heard making an exit...or an entrance. Now quiet footsteps. Andrea? No, she spent most of her nights in Dale's r.v...everyone had accepted that without comment. Carol? No, where would she be going unless there was something wrong with Sophia. Shane? Who would fucking want to... No, it was coming from the right-hand side. Daryl threw on his shirt and laced his boots quickly, unzipping his tent as quietly as she had, following her shadow past the tree line, unnoticed, hoping she couldn't hear his heart pounding as he moved silently behind her.
Daryl felt like a perv as he watched her from behind the tree. She squatted, pulling down her sweatpants and underwear, holding on to a sapling to steady herself. He could see her bare ass, pale in the slight moonlight, heart-shaped, curvy round at the hips and as it disappeared into the darkness of the back of her thighs. She peed quickly and pulled out a package of wet-wipes from the pocket of the light-weight hoodie. She stood up once she was finished and wiped her hands with another, pulling up her pants, arranging her jacket, stuffing the small package back in her pocket. She looked around quickly and started to make her way back through the thicket to the camp and the warmth of her tent.
Daryl slowly moved around the tree hiding him until she passed him. He made the mistake of looking at her ass as she walked past him. The feeling that surged through him was like 'shine hitting an empty stomach. Pure heat. Burning fire, singeing every nerve ending from his half-stiff dick to the ends of his hair. Searing, alcohol-in-a-wound, mind-numbing heat. The next thing he did surprised even himself. Daryl Dixon lost it. Totally and completely lost all control of himself. As she moved a couple steps beyond, he moved out from his hiding place quickly, grabbing her by the waist, clapping his hand over her mouth, pulling her against him as she struggled and kicked.
"Shhh." he croaked. "Fuckin' shut up."
She stopped struggling for a split second when she recognized his voice and then began fighting again, twisting around to face him, her mouth open, about to scream as he grabbed a fist-full of her shoulder-length hair and pulled back hard, opening up her neck, covering her mouth with his. He jammed his tongue inside, moving his lips on hers, trying to seal in any sound that night escape. His free hand moved from her waist to her ribs as she had turned. Kneading, massaging. His thumb could feel the thin line of elastic of the bottom of her bra under the fabric of her jacket.
Her hands were busy smacking him in the chest, pounding with her fists as he continued to assault her mouth with his, his tongue wicked, thrashing, roaming over every inch of the inside of her as if he were looking for a long-lost treasure. His tongue slid across her bottom row of teeth, slick, clean, slightly...minty. While his hand squeezed her ribcage on the sides and back, his thumb worked back and forth in the front, dangerously close to hitting nipple. Intentionally hitting nipple.
She stopped struggling in a split second and made a tiny sound in the back of her throat. Not a moan, not a whine, a...brief, hesitant whimper. She had stopped pummeling his chest and instead was gripping two handfuls of his shirt. Daryl lifted her up by her waist and opened one eye, moving her backwards to a large oak, not breaking the kiss, refusing to let her come up for air. No, not this time. He was not going to let her even open her mouth to let one foul thing come out. Not one insult, not a peep of protest. Not if he could help it.
He remembered the look in her eye when she'd seen him walking through camp on the way to the lake. Daryl knew what she wanted, what she needed and he was damn sure going to give it to her. He needed it as bad as she did, he was sure of that too. He put her back roughly to the tree and moved his hands to her hips, moving a leg to between hers, his knee a makeshift seat between her legs. Her hands were moving on his chest now, roaming, around his back as far as she could reach, pulling on his shirt to free it from the confines of being tucked into his pants. She was struggling to breathe now, the pace of their kissing had picked up as he dropped his knee and pulled her hips to his, grinding himself into her, forcing her back against the tree again. She turned her head suddenly to the side and gasped for air, managing a couple deep breaths of the cool night air before Daryl dipped his head and again covered her mouth with his.
He ran a hand up her shirt to the zipper pull of the hoodie and jerked downward forcefully, the metal teeth protesting for a split-second and then giving way with an audible rip. The sweatshirt parted and he could see a light-colored bra, barely discernable against her pale skin. Daryl popped the front closure easily with one hand as she squirmed in anticipation of where his hand would surely go, her breath coming in short bursts now.
Daryl could feel the heat radiating from her, causing him to become even harder, wondering if he would even be able to get his dick out of his pants when the time came. And it was coming, good God it was coming. He lifted her ass with one hand as she wrapped her legs around his waist, moving her closer as she arched her back away from the tree slightly. He grabbed one breast with his free hand and lowered his head to take the other in his mouth. She put both hands in his hair, running over his neck, dropping them to his shoulders. He was as rough with her breasts as he was with her mouth, greedy, nipping, teasing, making her squirm against him even harder.
His hand dropped to her waist, pulling on the drawstring of her sweatpants, breaking the thin string, loosening them instantly enough to get a hand down the front, straight for the source of the heat at his waist. He cupped the mound between her legs and flexed his fingers as he continued to mouth her breasts. The smooth cotton of her underwear was already damp, making his thinking hazy, unfocused as he continued to pull his fingers towards his palm and then push them back up against her, brushing her over her panties, making her squirm as he moved his lips from her nipple again to her mouth, open and eager this time. He swirled his tongue around her mouth as he circled his flattened hand and she pressed against him harder.
Daryl ran his hand around the back of the waistband of her now-loose sweatpants, tearing at them, pushing them down past her hips, her knees. Her hands moved to his shoulders, hanging on as he struggled to free one leg from her pants, then the other, flinging them on the ground in frustration, her legs returning to lock around his hips as they continued to kiss. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his waist and fumbled with the button on his green army fatigues riding low on his waist now. The button now undone, he took a step back and she pushed the pants off his hips, his balls twitching with her touch as she ran her hands around to his ass and squeezed. Half stiff no more.
He returned to her mouth as he rocked his hips against hers, pushing her back into the tree, dry-humping like high school kids. His fatigues slipping lower on his ass with each movement his hips made. She reached a hand down towards him and he slapped it away, holding her by the waist against the tree, as he stopped and withdrew slightly, pausing as she looked down at him, so absolutely ready. Her pupils dilated slightly. In the near darkness a look passed between them. Silent, unspoken, a slow blink of her now-dark eyes, an even slower nod. A deep shuddering exhaled breath as she steadied herself for him.
Daryl watched her eyes, glassy, half-closed. He'd been waiting for her signal. When it came, he didn't hesitate. He held her hips firmly, fingers bruising her pale flesh, and brought her to him, entering her easily as he again covered her mouth with his to keep her from crying out. She tensed slightly and then let go, relaxing every muscle, going limp for just a bit as he buried himself inside her completely.
She was dizzy, half from the heat, half from lack of oxygen as Daryl's kisses stole the very breath from her. She desperately needed the chilly air, crisp and clean in her lungs, clearing her head, drawing her out of the haze. She grabbed the hair at the back of his head and jerked hers away to the side, extricating her mouth from his, her head on his neck. Drinking in the cool air, her breathing slow, steady, matching the rhythm Daryl was making, pounding her into the tree, the bark scraping and poking the flesh of her ass.
Her head cleared and she became aware of every place he was touching her. His hands, rough and hot on her hips, fingers splayed, his grip like a vice. Pulling on her. His mouth was pressed against the side of her head, his breathing heavy, a slight grunting sound with every thrust, deep and low in the back of his throat. A cross between a contended hum and a needful growl as he moved. His shoulder dug into her, pressing her against the tree. Her legs were locked around his, feet crossed behind his back as he crashed into her.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel him inside of her, the heat building, moving faster, every pass moving her closer as he buried himself deeper, picking up the pace steadily. She allowed her mind to wander briefly animage of a steam locomotive, the arm between the wheels moving jerkily forward, pushing the train little by little, building up speed with every thrust, faster, farther. She snapped back into focus when she realized that the sound she was hearing, the huff of the engine as it tried to gain speed, was their breathing, matched together, also accelerating with every thrust.
He turned his head back to her and she seized his mouth, one hand on the back of his neck, pulling him to her, muffling the desperate, moan that erupted as she came, bucking, jerking as she squeezed her feet and legs, pulling him in, everything tightening around him. Daryl felt her start to go and his brain flipped a switch, turning off everything but the feeling in his dick as she contracted around him, drawing him out, pulling him over the edge with her. He turned his head slightly and hissed out of the side of his mouth. "Fucking...shit...Jesus...God...Fuck!" he sputtered as he rode out his orgasm, his arms now wrapped around her waist in an attempt to draw himself inside, still closer. If he could have, he would have crawled inside her and disappeared forever in the warmth of her, the soft velvety feeling as it melted around him, holding him, gently caressing him as he relaxed, his mind now a fog of swirling feelings and half-conscious thoughts. Fleeting. Unreachable.
He felt his legs now, heavy, straining, the muscles like limp cords, barely able to support their weight, burning with every twitch of his ass, every uncontrollable movement, however slight. He put his arm under her ass and went down to one knee, his other arm using the tree for support. He sat back, his bare ass landing half on his pants, half on the damp grass, her legs still wrapped around him tightly. His mind was spinning, the warmth of still being inside her, holding her against him contrasted deliciously with the cool air and the chilly wet grass under him.
They sat there as they caught their breath, chests heaving, tiny jolts of electricity moving through each of them as they wound down, like a tops spinning slower and slower, spiraling wider to the point where momentum gives in to gravity and the once out-of-control becomes predictable, slow circles growing larger and larger until the circles...just...stop.
"What's it mean?" she said softly, her head against his chest.
"What?"
"What's it mean? You called me H-O."
"Oh." Daryl grinned. "It's a model railroad thing."
"You play with trains?"
"Hell no. It's just a scale."
"A what?"
"A scale."
"You lost me."
"It means," he said, looking down at her breasts and licking his lips suggestively, "it's all there, just on a smaller scale."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Uh-huh." Daryl said, looking up. "So shut tha' hell up."
"Did you plan this?"
"What?"
"Following me out here to pee."
"No."
"So?"
"I just saw you and..." Daryl shrugged. "It happened."
"Is it going to happen again?"
"Depends" he said, pulling her closer to his chest, feeling the hardness of her nipples against his bare skin.
"On WHAT?" she snorted.
"How pissy ya' are ta' me from now on."
"Fuck you, you redneck son of a bitch, you're damn fucking lucky I didn't-"
Daryl overspoke her as he leaned in. "Well, if ya' insist..." he said, covering her mouth with his once again, forcing her backwards in the cool damp grass.
