Daryl woke to sunlight.

He blinked, groaning low in his throat at the pounding in his head. His mind was fuzzy, memories coming back to the archer in fractured pieces. He had been drinking. With Rick. He vaguely recalled them laughing about his imitation of what Chewbaca would probably sound like during sex. And then.. Oh. Rick had sucked him down like a pro, and then..

Daryl was sitting upright before he even realized he had moved. His head protested the sudden movement viciously, making the rednecks stomach twist, chasing a wave of nausea through him. The second he could see straight, he turned his gaze to the empty space beside him. Rick wasn't there anymore. He trailed roughened fingertips over the sheets. They were cool. No one had laid here for hours.

Rick had probably woken, thought about what had happened, and in his sober state decided it had all been a big mistake. Realized he could do worlds better than a redneck mechanic with a fucked up face. He had been stupid to believe this would end up any other way. The cop would be downstairs, waiting for Daryl to get up and dressed, and politely ask him to leave. He'd say he was sorry for leading him on, and that they could still be friends. And Daryl would tell him to go fuck himself, and never go back to that god damn bar, because how could he be anything less that whatever they were now? He'd go home, thank whatever god was listening that the garage was closed on Sundays, and set on forgetting he had ever met Rick.

Humiliated, Daryl paid his head no attention as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, thankful that Rick had made him keep on the shirt. At least he wouldn't be bare when he went to retrieve his clothes in the living room. If he had opened himself to Rick like that, if Rick had seen.. It would have made the rejection so much more painful.

He didn't bother keeping his steps light, practically stomping out of the cops bedroom and down the stairs he couldn't remember climbing, lips pressed together so tightly it hurt. He just needed to get on his pants, grab his briefs, socks and shoes, and get to his car. He could do this.

He had just managed to grab for his pants when-

"Daryl? What'cha doin'?" He didn't want to reply, he really didn't. And so, he gave a grunt, starting to pull on his pants, wavering slightly in his haste. Rick moved closer, serving only to make Daryl's hands tremble harder. "Daryl?"

"Look, 'm jus' gonna go, a'right?" Daryl snapped, desperately trying to locate his briefs that had been discarded to the floor the night before.

"Oh." Daryl swallowed around the lump in his throat. He had to get out, had to leave, because if he didn't, he'd break down right here. "If. If that's what ya wan', I won' stop ya."

Daryl stilled. If that was what he wanted? But.. was that not what Rick wanted after all? Fuck, had he taken it all wrong?

"Thought.. ya wanted me ta." He breathed, back still turned on the cop. "Didn' stay in bed."

"That wasn' because I wanted ya ta leave, Daryl." Rick replied, his voice soothing, and then he was carefully wrapping an arm around the archers chest. Daryl stiffened, tense and at a loss for what to do or say. "Jus' had ta think, Daryl. Last night.. that wasn' what I had planned, 's all."

"Yer regrettin' it." Daryl shook his head, now struggling to escape the deputy's grip, because if this was all just for his benefit, he wanted none of it.

"No. I'm not. Don't think I could ever regret what happened between us." Ricks tone was sharp, firm, and caused a tremor along the archers spine. He stilled, allowing Rick to hold him against his chest, surrendering. And then, Rick continued a bit softer. "Told ya ifs been a while since I.. well, since I've been with anyone. And last night was.. you were perfect. I jus' needed some time ta process it all."

Now, Daryl felt like a jerk. All Rick had wanted was to have a chance to think, a chance he had given Daryl again and again. Just think and calm down. And Daryl.. Daryl had behaved like a dick.

"'m sorry." He grunted, lowering his head. "..Feels like 'm sayin' that a lot lately."

"Have nothin' ta apologize for, Daryl. Should've known how ya'd feel wakin' up alone. 'm sorry" Rick leaned forward, making the archer shiver as he ran the tip of his nose along his ear, gently nuzzling Daryl's hair.

"..'s not yer fault. Got nothin' ta apologize fer, neither." Daryl huffed, slowly reaching up to place his hand onto Ricks arm currently wrapped around him. "I jus'.. Guess I always think the worst. Can' really.. understand why ya wan' me, ya know?"

"There are so many reasons why, Daryl." Rick hummed quietly, pressing a soft kiss to Daryls neck. "Yer sweet. An' funny." Each statement was punctuated by a small kiss to the archers neck, making him shiver. Daryl lowered his head more and more, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Don' have ta say th-"

"I know I don' have ta Daryl. I wan' ta." A nip at his earlobe had the archer gasping quietly, biting down on his bottom lip to try and silence himself. "Yer smart, and yer loyal as fuck. Stickin' by yer brother like that, no matter what. So fucking strong, sweetheart. Never met anyone as strong as you, never. An' don' even get me started on how incredibly gorgeous and hot ya are. Take me fuckin' days."

"Rick.." He didn't know why he said the others name, didn't know if he was asking him to stop or to keep going, if he wanted to run, or to turn around and shove his face against the deputy's neck.

"Ever since I met ya, my life has been better, Daryl. Ya make me.. whole." God, how could Rick just say shit like that, how could he be so open? He wanted so badly to tell Rick he felt the same way, but the fear of rejection still lingered in his bones, and he couldn't get himself to open his mouth and talk. "An' I know that's a lot, an' if ya need some time ta yerself, I get it. Jus' don' ever think I don' want ta be with ya, Daryl. Because I do."

"I-" Daryl attempted, confused and hung over, but he couldn't say the words he really wanted to. "Don' wanna leave."

"Ya don' have ta. Come on." Ricks hand was wrapped around Daryls before the archer could complain about the arm being taken off his chest. They weren't close enough, Daryl wanted to be plastered to Ricks body, but he let himself be lead to the kitchen.

"Sit down at the kitchen island, darlin'. Lets get ya some coffee and somethin' ta eat." Daryl did as he was told, watching Rick as he poured coffee into a cup and placed it in front of the hunter. "Ya hungry fer anythin'?"

"Nah. Whatever ya have is fine." The sheriff was suddenly beside him again, forcing Daryl to look up by gently applying pressure beneath Daryls chin with his fingers, tipping his head upwards.

"Ya can ask fer things, darlin' . I wan' ya ta." Rick was smiling at him, encouraging the redneck. "So, there anythin' ya want fer breakfast?"

"Dunno." Daryl grunted, trying to avoid those blue eyes piercing his own. But he knew Rick wasn't going to back down, and so, eventually, the archer grumbled. "..Pancakes?"

"Pancakes it is." Rick was grinning, pleased with himself no doubt. Daryl huffed, ducking his head as the deputy set to work, refusing any attempt of the archers to help. Daryl was expected to sit, drink his coffee, and wait. It was a relief, somehow, that even when he was nervous, Rick knew how to help. Simple orders seemed to help. Made things so much easier.

"Ya wan' sirup too?" The cop asked, and Daryl nodded quickly. "Come on darlin', know ya can do better than that."

"Yes, I want sirup. Please." The words , once again, came out all on their own. He didn't have to think about them even a little. Rick just smiled at him, placing a plate with six pancakes staked on top of each other before the archer.

"Good boy." Daryl could feel a shiver run along his spine. God, he fucking loved when Rick called him that. Maybe this was what he had been craving all his life. A firm leader that acknowledged that he wasn't just an extra mouth to feed, or a weak link. Could see that Daryl was strong, that he could help, could earn his spot beside this gorgeous man.

They ate in silence, elbows and knees brushing ever so often. It was heaven, to just sit next to Rick, not feeling the need to take charge of the situation. The fact that silence between them was never uncomfortable was another plus. He'd never been one to talk much anyway.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd had pancakes for breakfast, and no one had ever cooked for him either. Even as a child, Daryl had been in charge of feeding himself. Its why he had started to hunt at a young age. Thanks to his old man and Merle's wasteful ways, they'd never really had much food in the house, and the redneck had been forced to find other ways to keep from starving.

"Plans fer today?" Rick asked somewhat casually, glancing at Daryl once they had both had their fill, placing the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. The archer couldn't help staring at the deputys ass as he bent down. If Rick noticed, he didn't say anything.

"Nah. Don' work on Sundays. Was jus' gonna go huntin' or somethin'." Daryl shrugged, finding it suddenly difficult to keep his eyes open. His stomach was full, he was warm and comfortable, aside of the persistent headache, and all he wanted to do was curl up in Ricks bed, have the older males chest pressed to his back, one arm slung around Daryls hips, keeping him close, keeping him safe..

"Good. Means ya can stay 'til I gotta go ta work." Daryls presence seemed to please the officer, and even though Daryl still couldn't really begin to understand why, he was happy to do anything Rick wanted. Fuck, the man could probably beat him to a pulp, and Daryl would still come crawling back for more. It should have scared him. Would have, if he hadn't been so perfectly content, like a cat with a belly full of cream. "Yer lookin' pretty sleepy there, darlin'. Think its time fer a nap."

"Only if ya nap with me." There was no way he would let himself be separated from Rick, not now, not when everything he never knew he wanted was right there. His words earned him a chuckle, a nuzzle to his stubbled cheek.

"'course, Daryl. Gonna sleep right next ta ya, I promise." Before the archer knew what was happening, he was being picked up bridal-style, strong arms wrapped under his knees and his shoulders, forcing a surprised gasp out of him. His instinct was to snap at the deputy, tell him he could damn well walk on his own, that he didn't need to be carried around like a fucking girl. But it felt so good, to know that Rick wouldn't let him fall, to trust someone enough to hold him this way. A small sigh escaped thin lips as the archer allowed his head to fall against Ricks chest, eyes fluttering shut the second he picked up on the deputy's steady heartbeat.

"Not gonna leave again, right?" Daryl asked, his voice low as sleep threatened to overcome him before they had even made it to bed.

"No, sweetheart. I ain't gonna leave ya again. I promise." Ricks voice was like music to his ears, and he tried his hardest to stay awake, to focus on Ricks words more than the sound of his voice. It was a futile attempt with how at ease the archer was. All he could do was grunt in reply, and then he was gone, slipping into the land of dreams.

After their nap followed separate showers, which Daryl had protested at first. But Rick had stood by his decision, and Daryl had washed up in the spacious shower on his own. It was surreal, standing in a shower as big as his whole fucking bathroom, knowing he didn't have to worry about the water going cold in the middle of him cleaning himself. Even without Merle around, there really wasn't much time before the water turned lukewarm, and eventually freezing cold.

He hadn't asked why Rick was so insistent about the matter, fearing that he'd get a reply he couldn't handle. It was difficult, at the very least, to keep himself from thinking that Rick might have changed his mind after all, that he was just being kind. A part of the archer was yelling at him to get away, that something this good was too good to be true. The other half begged him to stay, that he could trust Rick, that everything the deputy had said was true. That he really was what Rick wanted.

Years of running left Daryls skin itching as he stepped out of the shower, grabbing the towel Rick had placed on the sink for him, drying his skin with rushed movements. He wanted to get back to Rick. Wanted to feel those broad hands on his skin, feel Ricks eyes on his form. Daryl had never thought he'd get addicted to anything, but it seemed that he'd found something, actually someone that had him hooked.

"Rick?" That name stilled rolled of his tongue in the most perfect of ways, and he'd never get tired of saying it. He hadn't noticed that his clothes had disappeared from the bathroom floor, leaving him with nothing but the towel to wrap around himself. How had he not realized Rick had been in the room?

"Bedroom." Rick called back, and Daryl had two choices. Either stay behind the shut door and ask for his clothes, or wrap the towel around his hips and join Rick. The latter would mean.. Daryl swallowed around the lump in his throat. Rick would see his scars. He'd ask questions. He'd want to know what had happened to Daryl. And fuck, was he really ready to share that with him?

The continued silence must have alarmed the deputy, for a soft knock against the wooden bathroom door startled Daryl from his thoughts, causing his muscles to tense, hands curling into fists.

"Ya a'right in there, darlin'?" Daryl bit down on his lip. Was he alright? He didn't know. Didn't know if he was ready to bare himself that way yet, either.

"Took my clothes." He replied, barely loud enough for Rick to hear, chest tightening.

"Jus' ta wash 'em Daryl." Rick answered. "Was jus' lookin' fer some clothes that might fit ya. In case ya didn' want ta, ya know, run around nude. Jus' need ya ta open the door wide enough ta slip 'em through the gap, yeah?"

"Yeah. Hold on." Thank god Rick hadn't expected anything. Daryl had met a few people that had been kind to him, and then expected the redneck to return the favor in a very different way. But Rick wasn't like that, he reminded himself. Rick was a good man. He pulled the door open, just enough to allow the cops hand and arm to slip inside, holding on to a pair of gray sweatpants, a black pair of briefs, and a white T-shirt. "Thanks."

"Yer welcome. Why don' ya get dressed and we'll see what we can do fer lunch." Daryl snorted as he closed the door. They had just eaten that morning, and now he was supposed to eat again? Regular meals weren't something Daryl was used to.

"Jus' ate, man." He huffed, slipping into the briefs and pants, quickly pulling the shirt over his head.

"Daryl, we slept seven hours." Rick snickered, grinning at Daryl once he had opened the door. "And yer too skinny anyway. Makes me want ta feed ya as much as I can get away with."

"Yer gonna make me get fat if ya do that." The hunter complained playfully, not quite able to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was strange. If anyone else had told him he was too skinny, Daryl would have felt insulted, would have gotten angry. But with Rick.. It wasn't like that. He wasn't looking down on him. He was, playfully, showing worry. Wanted Daryl to eat properly. No one else had ever given a fuck about that in his entire life. It left the archer feeling thrilled, and terrified at the same time.

"Doubt ya could get fat, darlin'." Rick was grinning, again, like a fucking cheshire cat. "Yer work is a lot of physical labor, an' so is huntin'. Jus' look at yer biceps. Look like ya work out."

"Bullshit." Daryl huffed, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He still got uncomfortable when Rick complimented him. Never really saw that going away. "Jus' cause I hunt with a crossbow."

"Crossbow, huh? That's impressive." Rick took a step closer then, making Daryl want to inch back. He didn't, though, because having the officer this close was definitely worth the small discomfort of having another person in his personal space. "An' watch yer language, darlin'."

"Ain't nothin'." Daryl grunted, narrowing his eyes a bit at the scolding. "What, ya don' like me cursin'?"

"Would prefer if ya saved that fer other situations, 's all." Rick moved away, walking along the hallway to the stairs that would lead them to the kitchen and living room. Daryl was flustered, having to forcefully squash the erotic images his mind brought forth at Ricks words, but followed Rick anyway, barely leaving enough space between them that he wouldn't step on the mans heels. "Should teach me."

"What, ta curse?"

"Nah, ta shoot yer crossbow." Daryl wanted to snort, and tell Rick it took years to develop the muscles needed to pull back the bowstring, to learn how to read the wind, and land an accurate shot. That there was no way Rick would stick with him for that long. Instead, he gave a quiet hum.

"Why not. Gonna warn ya though, yer arms are gonna be sore as fuck the day after." Rick had lead them to the kitchen emagain/em, apparently determined to get more food into the archer.

"I can live with that. 'specially if ya hang around ta rub 'em fer me. Get all the tension out." Daryl was most definitely down with that. It meant they'd spend two days in a row together, maybe he'd get to spend the night again, and maybe then they'd do more than a one-sided blowjob. "Spaghetti a'right with ya? I think I got some of that instant tomato sauce somewhere.."

Rick was rummaging through one of the kitchen cupboards, giving Daryl the perfect view of his broad shoulders and back. He'd never get tired of staring at Rick. Never. And as he watched, his mind wandered back to the night before. How Ricks mouth had felt on his cock. How hot it was watching beautiful lips trailing over his length, over and over. How much being told to ask for release had turned him on. His cock was quickly growing harder, twitching with interest.

"Daryl." The archers head snapped up, blue orbs catching him in their spell once again. But god, Rick was beautiful. He wanted to know what he'd taste like, how it'd feel to have him in his mouth. Rick would hold him by his hair, would lead him, show him what felt good, all the while praising him with that raspy voice.. "Asked ya a question', darlin'. What's got ya so distracted, hm?"

"You." Daryl replied honestly, without hesitation.

"That so?" Rick was arching his eyebrow again, lips quirked, and the archer couldn't quite make out if it was an expression of amusement, or if Rick was pleased with him.

"Yea'. Been wonderin'.." Daryl broke off then, having to gather his thoughts, put the words into the right order. He wanted to sound appealing, seductive even, because he needed to know what it was like. Actually, no. He wanted to know all these things. What he needed was to make Rick feel as good as he had made Daryl feel the night before. Wanted to prove to Rick he could please him, could be everything the deputy wanted him to be. But with all this pressure, he felt his chest tightening, felt the lump in his throat grow until he thought he might gag on it. He was fucking things up again, and fuck, why couldn't he just-

"Daryl, look at me. Hey." Rick was right before him, not touching, his tone commanding, leaving the archer no other option than to focus again, to focus on Rick. He hadn't even noticed lowering his gaze, how his chest was rising and falling with a shaky, unsteady rhythm. "Jus' breathe fer me, darlin'. Did it before, ya remember? Know ya can do it, know ya can be good fer me. In an out, sweetheart, jus' like me. Nice an' steady."

Minutes passed until Daryls breathing settled, until he felt himself relaxing again. God, how did Rick put up with this shit? No one ever had, and soon Rick would find someone else. Someone that was exactly what he wanted, that didn't have to be calmed like a child every other day, that was too much of a fuckin' coward to just say what he wanted, how much the deputy meant to him.

"Better?" Rick asked, gently brushing his fingertips over Daryls palm, almost as if he was asking permission. The archer gave a tiny nod, and then felt his hand being clasped in Ricks, giving a soft sigh of relief at the skin to skin contact. "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours, darlin'?"

And Daryl didn't want to tell him, because surely it would ruin the entire day, and it had been so pleasant until.. But he couldn't lie to Rick, either. It felt wrong, like it went against every fucking fiber of his body.

"Was thinkin' how long yer gonna put up with this shit, before ya go find someone that ain't a fuckin' pussy." And now the dam was broken, there was no going back as words poured out of him, feeling the weight on his chest grow lighter and lighter the more he said. "Yer fuckin' gorgeous, an' good, and so many other things I don' even know the words fer. Bein' with you is like bein' home, and I ain't ever felt that before. Yer better than me in every fucking way, and ya deserve more than stupid redneck that can' do nothin' right but fix a fuckin' car and hunt, deserve someone that ain't 'fraid, that can give ya what ya wan', that can be everythin' ya ever hoped fer, and it ain't me, Rick. Can't be me. I'd just fuck up, man, I know it, an' you know it too-"

"Enough." It was more a growl than an actual word, and Daryl couldn't help himself, the instinct so deeply engrained in him, the piece of his brain that told him that kind of tone meant danger. He jumped back, pulling his hand from Ricks, eyes wide as he took in the mans expression. Rick looked pissed off, and for the first time Daryl truly thought the cop might punch him in the face.

"Don'. Move." Rick forced out between gritted teeth, and despite the fear rising, Daryl stayed still. "First of all, ya don' get ta tell me what I do an' don't know. Ya don' get ta assume. Secondly, I ain't better than you Daryl. No one could be better than you. Ya hear me? No one. An' who I want ain't up to ya, neither. Ta decide who's good enough fer me, an' who isn't. We clear?"

Daryl nodded, still rooted to the floor with fear, still feeling his skin crawl, all his instincts telling him that he had to get the fuck out, or he'd be covered in bruises, if not worse. That Rick, right now, was dangerous, and could do real harm.

"Good." The softening of Ricks tone was unexpected, and Daryl still didn't quite trust whatever was going on between them. He had no idea what Rick would do next, and it was unnerving at the very least. But he stood still, because Rick had told him to, had promised Daryl he wouldn't hurt him. And Rick wasn't a liar. "Want ya ta listen ta me now, a'right? Want ya ta really listen, an' not interrupt. Think ya can do that?"

Daryl gave a timid nod. He could do that.

"Yer everythin' I ever wanted, Daryl. Yer strong, an' yer loyal, an' yer good. Yer strong in ways I've never been. Ya gotta trust me when I tell ya that, 'cause its true." Daryl wanted to protest, because he was none of the things Rick was calling him. But he had been told to shut up and listen, and fuck, he wasn't gonna screw up again. "Told ya before I don' wan' ya thinkin' like that, cause I don' think that way 'bout ya. I think yer beautiful, an' sweet, and perfect fer me. An' I don' care that we're takin' things slow, I don' mind calmin' ya when ya get scared. I don' know what happened ta make you this afraid, and if ya don' want ta tell me, I don' need ta know. What happened back then don' change nothin' fer me. I'm here with ya, Daryl, 'cause I want ta be. Ya know I do. An' I ain't goin' nowhere, I ain't gonna leave ya jus' because things get a little rough. I want ya, Daryl. There isn' a single piece of me that want's ta go find someone else. All I wan' is you."

By the time Rick had finished, Daryl was trembling like a leaf. That Rick thought all those things about him.. It was overwhelming. It was bliss. It was frightening. It was like balm for his soul. He was tearing up, quickly lowering his head to hide them, but he couldn't seem to hide shit from Rick.

"'s okay, Daryl." Rick soothed, moving closer, until Daryl could feel the others body heat on his skin. "'m gonna touch ya now, a'right? Need ya ta tell me when its too much. Can ya do that, darlin'?"

"Yes." Daryl forced himself to reply, to try and keep his voice from breaking, only to have it crack anyway. But Rick didn't seem to care.

"Good, Daryl. Doin' so good." Rick took hold of the hunters hand once more, gently tugging him closer until their chests met, until Daryl could shove his face against the warm skin of the mans neck. Then Rick wrapped an arm around the archers back, holding him close as, much to Daryls mortification, the tears started to fall, and he was soon reduced to a sobbing mess. Rick just held him through it, through the crying, and shuddering breaths, through the garbled 'I'm sorry's that escaped Daryls lip ever so often. Rick held him like he was the most precious thing in the world, and once again, Daryl was awed by the others seemingly endless patience.

"C'mon." Once the worst was over, the cop lead them to the living room, maneuvering Daryl onto his lap with a smooth motion. "'s okay now, yer okay now darlin'. 's okay."

"Ain't nothin' okay 'bout this." Daryl argued weakly. "Ain't nothin' okay 'bout ya havin' ta treat me like a kid."

"Ain't treatin' ya like a kid, Daryl." Rick soothed, one hand on the archers lower back, the other running through his hair in steady, gentle movements. "Treatin' ya like someone that's afraid. An' 's okay ta be. I am, too. Ya know I am. Told ya before."

"..Jus' wanna make ya happy." Daryl swallowed heavily, leaning forward to place his forehead against Ricks. "Can' even do that."

"Ya do, Daryl. Make me so happy." Rick breathed. "Let me hold ya. Let me touch ya. That makes me happy. Yer here, with me. Yer tryin', fer me. And all of that makes me ecstatic . Because I don' think you've ever let anyone else so close. An' I'm gonna do everythin' I can ta be worth that trust, Daryl. Ta deserve it."

"Already deserve it." Daryl gruffed quietly, slowly starting to calm, melting into the deputys form. "Do anythin' fer ya."

"An' I'd do anythin' fer ya, too. Pretty perfect, don' ya think?" And even Daryl had to admit, somehow, that did seem pretty perfect.

"Wanna try something, Daryl. Think it'd do ya good." Daryl leaned backwards, narrowing his eyes at the cop.

"An' whats that?"

"Remember how I told ya 'bout Dominants and Submissives?" Daryl nodded. He hadn't forgotten a single conversation between them. He'd remember them until the day he died. "Wan' ya try that with ya, darlin'. Don' worry, not gonna do anythin' but the very basics, a'right? An' you can stop whenever ya wan' ta. One word, an' it all stops."

"..An' what are the basics?" Daryl asked, not entirely convinced this was a good idea. But then, Rick had never done anything that had made him uncomfortable..

"Yer gonna do exactly what I tell ya. Yer not gonna move unless I let ya. Yer not gonna speak unless I ask ya a question." Rick replied evenly, his hands moving to the hunters hips, squeezing them gently. "Not gonna make ya do nothin' ya don' wan'. An' before ya ask, this ain't gonna be sexual, neither. That's not what its 'bout. Not now. Jus' wan' ta take care of ya. That sound a'right?"

Daryl paused. Did that sound alright? After a moment of pondering, the archer nodded. That actually sounded pretty damn good.

"Good. Yer really somethin', Daryl." Rick was smiling again, finally, and that alone was worth the risk of being uncomfortable to Daryl. "But 'fore be start, I need ya ta think of a word that will let me know ya want ta stop. Can be whatever ya wan' it ta be."

"Me tellin' ya I wan' ta stop ain't enough?" Rick chuckled at that, shaking his head softly. Daryl loved when Rick chuckled. He loved the sound of it, the way Ricks eyes lit up, the way the skin around his eyes crinkled. Loved all of it.

"Jus' humor me, darlin'. Jus' think of a word, somethin' ya think is easy enough ta think of, no matter whats goin' on." And so Daryl humored Rick. It took him a few moments to settle on something, but finally he had made his choice.

"Crossbow." He muttered, almost shyly, not knowing what purpose this whole word thing served.

"Good boy, Daryl." Rick praised tenderly, pressing a kiss to the archers neck, full lips brushing against his skin, making it tingle ever so slightly. "So when ya need me ta stop, what do ya say?"

"Crossbow." Daryl repeated, feeling a bit foolish. But again, it was something he'd happily endure, if only Rick continued touching him so gently. Rick would take care of him.

"Perfect. Bein' so good fer me." Rick praised again, rewarding the archer with a soft nip to his jaw line. He was then gently ushered off the cops lap and onto the couch, where he remained as Rick stood, grabbing a pillow from the couch, placing it on the floor. "G'wan, darlin'. Wan' ya ta kneel on the pillow 'til I come back. Won' be gone long, I promise."

And at first, Daryl wanted to balk at that instruction. He wasn't a fucking dog, why the fuck should he sit on the floor like one? It was demeaning, and Daryl was tempted to use his word and just stop it all. His gaze flicked from the pillow to Ricks eyes, then back to the pillow. What was Rick up to? It was nerve wrecking, to not know. But Rick deserved this. Deserved for Daryl to at least try. And so, he lowered himself onto the pillow, kneeling as he had been told to, forced to tilt his head back to look at the other.

"Beautiful." Rick breathed, reaching out to place his palm against the archers cheek, rubbing his thumb along the archers neck in gentle swipes. "So perfect fer me. Gonna get some food from the kitchen now. Gonna be right back, an' we're gonna have lunch."

Daryl opened his mouth to reply, only to be silenced as Rick placed his pointer to his lips. And that's when he remembered the rules. He wasn't supposed to answer, unless he was asked a question. And so, he simply nodded. Rick, clearly pleased, gave Daryl another heart stopping smile, and then retreated to the kitchen.

Daryl felt conflicted. On one side, kneeling on the floor like a dog was humiliating as fuck. And on the other, it was.. well, it was nice. Letting go, not having to worry about anything, handing over this amount of control.. Daryl had never thought he'd enjoy that, and yet, here he was, sitting on Ricks pillow on the ground, and feeling something that came close to freedom. Which was odd, considering the situation.

Before he could dwell on things too much, Rick returned, holding a plate in hand. From his perspective, Daryl couldn't see what the deputy had selected for their lunch, but whatever it was hadn't taken long to prepare.

"Did good, darlin'." Rick hummed his approval as he sat on the couch, right beside where Daryl was kneeling, so close that all the archer had to do was lean forward to press his forehead against the others knee. He didn't, though. Rick hadn't allowed him to move. "Ya like honey, Daryl?"

"Yea. Like it." Daryl responded after a second, and a warning glance from Rick. Had been entirely too distracted by how much he wanted to rub his cheek over the male's thigh to remember that, but quick to make up for his mistake.

"That's very good ta hear." Daryl watched as Rick moved, picking up something from the plate that Daryl quickly identified as a piece of toast, that had been cut into small squares. The rednecks brows furrowed, but before he could forget his rules again, Rick was holding one of those squares to his mouth. "Be good now, darlin'. Don' over-think this."

Daryl parted his lips, carefully taking hold of the toast with his lips, and then teeth, chewing twice and swallowing. It tasted good, the honey just sweet enough to make him want more.

"That's my good boy." Rick placed a hand on Daryls head, threading his fingers through brown hair, scraping his nails over his scalp with just enough pressure to make the sensation pleasurable. And fuckyes he'd been waiting to hear that. He was Ricks good boy. Only Ricks. "Want more?"

"Yes, please." This time, the reply came immediately, and Daryl was rewarded with a hushed 'Good, so good Daryl.' and another piece of food. It went on like that, with Rick offering him more, followed by a polite 'Yes, please', and then praise from the deputy. By the time the entire plate was cleared, Daryl felt comfortable with his new position, was at ease with how things were going. He had been afraid for no reason at all.

"There ya go, Daryl. Did so well, darlin'. Bein' everythin' I wanted." Daryl couldn't help the way his chest puffed out with pride, couldn't stop the smile curling his lips. He'd been good for Rick, and somehow that was all that mattered. There was nothing else in the world to worry about, nothing to pull him down. Just Rick, and his broad hands on Daryls skin, touching him with such care, as if the archer was a porcelain doll.

"Lay yer head in my lap, sweetheart." Daryl complied once more without thinking, scooting forward, dragging the pillow along with his knees until he could rest his cheeks against Ricks strong thighs. "That's it, jus' like that. God Daryl. Yer perfect."

Daryl didn't think to protest the statement as he usually would have. Instead, he accepted it, let it settle in his mind, giving a soft hum at the warmth that spread through him from head to toe. Rick though he was perfect, and that's all he cared about, all he could care about. Because this, this was heaven. Simply resting his head on Ricks lap was bliss, and when the officer started to gently knead his neck, Daryl couldn't stop the groan that escaped him.

"Yeah, ya just relax, darlin'. Jus' lemme take care of ya." Rick whispered, his tone enough indication that the cop was enjoying this just as much as Daryl was. That this, somehow, was for them both.

The TV was turned on, but he couldn't focus on whatever show Rick had chosen. It was all a blur before the rednecks eyes, much too enticed by the way the cop was now running a hand over his back, as far as the man could reach without bending over lower. They remained that way for what seemed like hours, but might just have been minutes, and once more Daryl felt sleep tugging at him. He had never been this tired before, had never felt the need to sleep as much as he did now. At best, he got a few fitful hours of rest before work, and that was it. To sleep during the day had never been an option. Now, all he craved was to curl up against Ricks chest and give in.

"Yea, think yer ready fer another nap. Gonna pick ya up and get ya ta bed, sweetheart. That alright?" Ricks words were hushed, and all Daryl could do was nod his head. There was no denying that he was about to fall asleep, and if he had the choice between sleeping while kneeling on the floor, and sleeping in an actual bed, well. It wasn't a difficult decision to make.

He didn't remember being picked up and carried, but once he was laid down, he grabbed for Ricks wrist, holding it tight, prompting Rick to still.

"What's wrong, darlin'?"

"Said ya wouldn' leave me 'gain. Want ya ta stay." The archer whispered, keeping his grip firm. He didn't want Rick to go, and he knew he didn't deserve to ask for anything, especially after having moved without Ricks permission but-

"I ain' leavin' ya, Daryl. Promised ya that." Rick soothed, leaning down to place a kiss to the archers forehead. "Jus' need ta get somethin' from downstairs, an' I'll be right back, a'right? I promise."

Daryl nodded, reluctantly releasing Rick. Rick said he'd come back. Rick had promised he would. He trusted Rick. And true to his word, the deputy returned from the living room only a few minutes after departing, toeing off his socks before climbing into bed with the archer, wrapping strong arms around him, holding him as he had the night before.

"Be a good boy now, an' sleep. Close yer eyes, darlin'. Deserve ta rest, been so good fer me. My sweet, perfect boy. So good fer me."

Daryl fell asleep to Rick whispering praise into his ear, content and smiling, and acutely aware of a simple truth.

He was Ricks in every single fucking way possible.