I'd like to take a moment to thank pretty much everybody out there. It thrills me to no end that people actually read what I write, and some of you even enjoy it. Those of you who take the time to review after reading, well, you're just my favorite people ever.
And most importantly, to all the other writers out there who work so hard to keep us all entertained and excited about this show and particularly this ship...you're frickin' angels on earth!
Caryl on!
Disclaimer: The usual. I do not own any of the characters or situations related to The Walking Dead. This is purely for entertainment (my own, at the very least).
Daryl woke before dawn as usual. Unlike usual, he was spooned around a warm, naked body. He didn't open his eyes immediately. Instead, he savored the moment, knowing that he and Carol wouldn't have this kind of peace once they returned to the prison. He relaxed and breathed her in, enjoying her soft warmth in the faint pre-dawn light. Eventually she stirred, and he allowed his thumb to caress her stomach where his hand rested. She hummed softly and arched back into him, intensifying the morning wood that had been pressed against her ass since he woke.
He tipped his head to nuzzle drowsily into the crook of her neck, planting kisses all along the way. She reached back and rested her hand on his hip, sighing at the attention he was giving her neck and shoulder. Her fingers dug in, massaging him. Reaching back a little more, she pulled him forward as she pushed her ass back to meet him. His pulse jumped, and he couldn't help but rub up against her. Once he was rocking into her, she brought her hand back to cover his, dragging it up to cup her breast and giving it a squeeze. He didn't need to be asked twice.
Their bodies barely moved, but Daryl felt every brush of skin against skin in vivid detail – the warmth of her back moving against his chest, the subtle bump-bump of his forearm over her ribs, the scruffing of hair as she stroked her foot along his calves. As he squeezed and caressed each of her breasts in turn, he moved his lips up to her ear, his breath whispering over it as he pulled her earlobe into his mouth. She pulled in a sharp, shuddering breath as he bit down gently and tugged. He nibbled and licked his way along the curve before kissing her behind the ear. All the while, they kept up their gentle rocking motions that held the promise of pleasures to come.
They were both breathing faster now, their movements almost hypnotic, and Daryl felt a little dazed, as if this were a slow-motion wet dream. She caught his hand and moved it from her breast to his cock, arching her back to give him better access to her. Taking himself in hand, he gave a good tug before guiding himself to her. She hissed as he pushed deep inside. They paused for a brief, heated moment of stillness. When she pressed back against him, he took that as an invitation to continue.
He kept his movements gentle, but thorough, pushing into her as deeply as he could with each slow stroke. She was hot and tight around him – she felt so good, it set his head spinning. Slipping his hand over her hip and between her legs, he gripped her inner thigh, giving it a good squeeze. Then he brought his hand up, fingers coming to rest at her opening to feel himself sliding in and out of her which sent tingling pleasure through him.
Gathering up some of the ample moisture there, he moved his fingers to her clit, rubbing gently and adjusting pace and placement by letting her little gasps and twitches guide him to what was best. He slipped the arm he'd been using as a pillow under her head and over her shoulder to find her breast, kneading and tweaking her in rhythm with their other movements. She reached up to tangle her fingers into his hair, turning her head to him. He couldn't quite reach her lips, but their breaths mingled as he pressed his nose into her cheek.
Her body coiled tighter under his hands. The dreamy feeling in his head increased as he built toward his own release. Suddenly, her grip on his hair tightened and she breathed out a squeaky little, "Oh!"
He could feel her orgasm rolling through her body in shuddering waves, her already tight walls contracting and gripping his cock. He sped up his last few strokes to bring himself over the edge just as she started coming down from her peak. He groaned her name as he came in a dizzying rush, emptying himself completely.
Kissing the back of her neck, he nosed in behind her ear as he basked in his dreamlike high. She reached behind her to grip his hip, keeping him in place as he softened inside her. His hand made soothing strokes over her body, as far as he could reach without moving. Eventually, his arm came to rest around her middle, his hand just beneath her breast. They lay quietly for some time while the breaking dawn began to brighten their windows.
"Do we have to go back?" she sulked, finally breaking the silence.
He smiled into her neck. "Yeah, prob'ly do."
"Don't wanna." She was cute when she pouted.
"We'll get mighty hungry we stay here – all we got left is wine and some stale Cheetos."
"Damn."
He snorted.
After a few more minutes of lounging, he eased himself away from her to sit up at one end of the couch with her feet on his lap. "Best get dressed, then box up these books. We can leave 'em by the door, go find us a ride, and bring it back here to load 'em all up."
She groaned, scrubbing her fingers through her hair. She flashed him a little grin, though, as she stood to gather up a water bottle and her discarded clothing from the night before. As she moved, something on her skin caught his eye, and he reached out to stop her with a hand to her hip.
"What the hell?" He drew her closer to inspect her. There were marks on her hips – little rounded bruises scattered on either side. He brushed his fingers over the marks, then spread them wide to check the measure. Horror dawned as he realized what the bruises were. This wasn't the same as some harmless little hickey. "Fuckin' hell! I did that to you?"
She glanced down at herself and smiled. "Souvenirs."
Anger flared suddenly. "The fuck! Why the hell didn't you tell me I was hurtin' you?"
She reared back from him a bit and frowned. "You weren't. You didn't."
"Exactly what the fuck is that, then?" he demanded, gesturing at her hip. "If I didn't hurt you, then why the fuck you got bruises?"
"It's fine! If you were hurting me too much, I would have told you," She put a soothing hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off roughly.
"This is bullshit! I ain't like that piece o' shit husband of yours! Ain't like my fuckin' sum'bitch daddy, neither! Beatin' on people can't fight back. Hurtin' people they should fuckin' love. Goddammit, I ain't like that!" His throat strained from the force of his shouting. With a snarl of rage, he picked up his boot and flung it as hard as he could at the nearest row of bookshelves. It hit with an unimpressive thunk, which left him more frustrated than before so he paced back and forth along the length of the long couch.
"Daryl, stop!" She stood herself in the path of his pacing, but didn't try to reach for him again. "Listen to me! You are nothing like them! Either of them."
He lurched to the side to try going around her, but she sidestepped in front of him, holding out a hand this time but still not touching him.
"Please, Daryl, listen to me. You're the best man I know – the best man I've ever known in my whole life. I know you would never hurt me or anyone you care about. I trust you, but I need you to trust me on this, okay? You did not hurt me last night."
"But-"
She cut him off before he could argue, this time putting a hand on his chest. "You didn't hurt me. Yes, there are bruises. But bruises don't necessarily mean hurt. What we did last night? I wouldn't change a second of it for anything in the world."
She took both of his hands in hers and ducked her head a little so she could meet his lowered eyes. "So it was a little rough – there's nothing wrong with that as long as both of us are enjoying it, and I certainly was. Please trust that I will always tell you if you're hurting me, and I want you to stop. I promise. I'm trusting you to do the same. Okay?"
He scowled as he thought over what she said. He hated that he'd bruised her, but he did trust her, and if she said it was all right, then he'd have to find a way to be all right with it, too. He nodded abruptly.
"Okay, then. Can I kiss you, or are you still too mad?" she asked.
A corner of his mouth twitched against his will. He tugged on her hands, pulling her against him, and put her hands on his shoulders before slipping his own around her waist. "Guess I'll get over it."
She smiled and leaned up to meet his mouth. Their lips moved together offering silent apology, their tongues soothing away any lingering hurt.
Pulling away slightly, he said, "Don't ever want to hurt you. I can't. Rather be dead than be that kinda man."
"I know."
Kissing him on the cheek, she moved away to pick up the clothes and water she'd gathered up before.
"Be right back."
He watched her the whole way to the double doors, admiring her ass and her aplomb in pretty much equal measure. After the show was over, he got his own clothes and water bottle and made his way out to the bathroom, where he took a piss and a whore-bath before dressing. He knew they would both smell of sex no matter how much they cleaned up out here. And even though his dick should be thoroughly exhausted after the last twelve hours, he felt a stirring as he thought about Carol walking around the prison smelling of him.
There had been stacks of flattened boxes downstairs, so after they were dressed, they went to fetch some to pack up their haul of books. They shifted everything out to sit next to the outer doors. Then they gathered up their packs and readied their weapons.
They heard nothing outside, so Daryl flipped the locks and cracked open the door, crossbow up and ready to bring to bear on any threats. He could only see one walker, so he stepped out with Carol at his back. He put down the walker before it even noticed them. Scanning the intersection, he didn't see any more threats, so he indicated the service station across the street with the hatchback parked behind it. She nodded and followed as he led the way, pausing for him to retrieve his bolt and reload. There were two more walkers behind the building. He shot one, and Carol stepped up to sink her knife into the other's eye socket.
The car was a little blue Honda, at least twenty-five years old if it was a day. But the thing was unlocked, none of the tires were flat, and the keys were tucked behind the sun visor of all fucking things. He figured there was no way in hell it could be this easy, but it started up with the first turn of the key and even had half a tank of gas. So Carol slid into the passenger seat, and they went back across the street to park in front of the library doors.
For a little dinky car, it held a surprising amount of stuff. It looked like there might be room for all this plus Asskicker's stuff, assuming they could get back to their truck again. Turning the car around, they started back down the highway toward the prison. They drove at a careful pace, eyes focused far ahead watching for the herd that had started this whole detour. They saw a few lone walkers, but no sign of the herd. They reached the truck without incident and quickly loaded the packs from the back of the truck along with the maps and everything else from the glove box.
Once they were loaded up, they left the truck behind and continued on toward home.
Still keeping a sharp eye out for the herd, he occasionally glanced over to Carol, who was quietly watching the treeline. Every time he peeked over, he felt an odd tugging in his chest. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known. He felt like the luckiest son of a bitch ever.
Roughly half an hour later, they approached the prison gates. Daryl could see Glenn, Maggie, and Michonne prepping one of the trucks to go out. He gave a short honk of the Honda's horn and waved out the window at Carl who was manning the gate. Everyone crowded around their little car as they pulled in.
"Thank goodness you're back! We were just about to go looking for you!" Glenn said as Daryl stepped out of the driver's side.
"We were so worried!" added Maggie. "Thought this was supposed to be an easy run. What happened?"
"We ran into a herd on the way back," Carol explained. "Then the truck died on us, and we had to make a run for it."
Daryl nodded. "Holed up back in town for the night. Found us a new ride this mornin'."
"What's in the boxes?" Michonne was peering into the back of the car. "That's more than just baby formula."
"Scored big in town," Daryl said. "It was all Carol."
He glanced over the roof of the car at her, and seeing the expression on her face, he wished he could bite his tongue clean off. She was nearly quivering with suppressed laughter and the desperate effort to keep a straight face.
"Um. I mean. Uh...books. We stayed at a library, and Carol thought we should bring back books we can use. Like for herbal medicine and cannin' food and stuff." He could feel his cheeks flaming and hoped it wasn't obvious. Maggie glanced at him, then at Carol, then back to him. He fidgeted a little under her gaze and felt his eye twitch.
Michonne had popped the hatchback and was digging through the boxes. "This is some great stuff! You're a damn genius, Carol." She flashed a bright smile at the older woman.
Carol smiled and nodded, but didn't reply.
"Hey, there's wine!" Michonne called out.
"Nice!" Glenn leaned in the window to look. "How much?"
"Doesn't matter. You're not drinkin' any of it. I've been warned about letting you drink," Maggie said. Then she looked right at Dary with her eyebrows up. "So you had wine, huh?"
Daryl cleared his throat and shoved Glenn away from the window so he could slide back into the driver's seat. "I'mma take it up to unload."
Michonne crawled back out and shut the hatch, patting the roof of the car after. Daryl drove up to the inner courtyard and parked. Briefly, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his hands at the top of the steering wheel. Damn Maggie and her noticing things. Why did he always get so goddamn flustered? He was a grown-ass man!
He was out of the car and pulling the first of the boxes out by the time the others made it up the hill. They quickly emptied the cargo and started hauling it all inside to be sorted. Daryl left the keys with Glenn and made his way inside with the last two packs. After dumping the bags in their makeshift pantry, he hurried to his cell while trying very hard not to look like he was hurrying. Once there, he gathered up some clean clothes and headed straight for the shower. It felt like everyone could tell he'd been having mind-blowing sex all night just by looking at him, but at least he could make sure they couldn't tell by smelling him. Did Michonne just give him a wink as he walked past her leaving the cell block? Goddammit.
He was practically running by the time he reached the showers. Thankfully the room was empty and he sighed in relief at the solitude. Stripping down quickly, he pulled a towel from the pile of clean ones, went into one of the stalls, and pumped up some water. He scrubbed himself under the cool spray and tried to figure out what the hell his problem was.
While he wasn't sure exactly what Carol was to him now, things had clearly changed, and he was happy about it. So why the hell was it fucking with his head now that they were back home? He scowled thinking about Maggie's knowing look. Why should he care if people knew?
They were going to tease the shit out of him, that's why. He knew that the more flustered he got, the more shit they'd flick his way, too. Unfortunately, he knew he wasn't going to be able to NOT get flustered. He huffed in irritation, then stopped as a thought struck him.
Carol hadn't said or done anything either. Maybe she didn't want people to know. It stung to think she might prefer to keep things a secret – that she might not want people thinking she would want him. They hadn't talked about any of this, and now the questions swirled in his mind. Did she want people to know? Would they tell people or just let them figure it out? Where would they sleep – would she want to move into a cell together? What exactly were they? Friends wasn't enough. Boyfriend/girlfriend sounded stupid. Friends with benefits? Even worse. Partner? Significant other? Nothing was right. They were just...together. She was his woman, and he was her man. Him and Carol.
He smiled to himself at that. Just him and Carol.
The door to the shower room creaked as someone came in. Dammit. He still didn't want to face anybody.
But when he turned, it was Carol making her way over, clean clothes in a bundle, towel in hand. She stopped just outside his stall and met his eyes briefly before letting her gaze cut a searing path down his body. Hot water? Who needed it?
"Hey," she said. "Can I come in? I locked the door."
"Will you be nekkid?" he asked.
"Yup."
"Then hell yeah," he said. "I'm almost done, though."
She peeled off her clothes and stepped under the fresh spray he pumped up, shivering at the cool water. She lathered up her bar of soap and ran her hands over her shoulders and arms, leaving her skin bubbly and slick. "You sure about that?"
"On second thought, might still be a bit dirty."
"Mmm," she agreed. "I'm very dirty. Wash my back?"
He soaped his hands and made long, slow strokes over her back and shoulders. When he ran his thumbs down her neck, she groaned and tipped her head forward a little.
"I'm sore from sleeping on that couch," she murmured.
He pressed firmly with his thumbs as he worked the muscles on the sides of her neck, and she made appreciative noises. He made his way slowly down her body, massaging her shoulders and the long muscles along her spine, then moving down to her hips and ass. Eventually he reached around her to thoroughly soap her front as well, spending plenty of time making sure her breasts were extra clean. He pulled the chain to let her rinse off before soaping up again and kneeling down in front of her to work over her legs one at a time, starting at her feet and working up. As he worked his hands up her thigh, she reached out to the sides to brace herself on the chest-high tile walls that separated the stalls. The appreciative noises were growing in volume and beginning to echo a bit in the large room.
Soon he had nearly run out of skin than hadn't already been thoroughly rubbed down. Wanting to watch her face, he raised his eyes just as he slipped his hand right up against her between her thighs, stroking back and forth and letting his fingers find all the folds and contours there without actually penetrating. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she gasped when he made contact with her sensitive clit. She gripped the tile walls harder.
"Wait!" she cried. "I want to wait!"
He stilled his hands and looked at her questioningly.
She put her hands to his face. They were cool from the tile. Smiling her devilish smile, she kissed him and said, "I want to wait. I want to be this turned on all day. Wanna find you in corners and closets and watchtowers all day and let you bring me just to the edge over and over. I want you to know I'm wet for you all day long."
Heat rushed up his neck to his face at the thought. He nodded and let her tug him to his feet. She pulled the chain and they rinsed off. Her hands found his stiff cock, and she peered up at him coyly.
"You don't have to wait, though, if you don't want to."
He shook his head – he didn't want to wait.
"What do you want?"
Knowing she'd make him do it sooner or later, he answered. "Your mouth on me."
"You want it bad?" Her hands spanned his ribs and she pressed her belly against his erection. "You want me on my knees, sucking your cock? Right here?"
"Yeah," he ground out.
She dropped down, spreading her hands on his thighs and kneading. "Tell me. Say it."
He leaned forward to brace his hands against the tile wall, and looked down at her on her knees in front of him. Water beaded on her skin and made her eyelashes spiky. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lip, and he groaned. "Suck it, go on. Take my cock in your mouth and suck it 'til I decide you're done."
Her lips spread into a wicked grin and she wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft, pulling with gentle pressure out to the tip. She swirled her palm over the head, gathering up the pre-cum there to spread over him on the firm downstroke. Her other hand cupped his sac and gently played with his balls. He struggled to keep his breathing steady – he wanted this to last as long as possible.
She started with just her tongue, running the flat of it up the underside in a long, laving stroke, then lapping over the head and around the rim. When she finally closed her hot, wet mouth around him and sucked, he made a guttural sound deep in his throat and squeezed his eyes tight. In the beginning, she focused on his head, using her hand for most of him, but she gradually took him in deeper. Her hand and mouth moved in rhythm, her tongue adding swirling variation as she sucked.
He looked down at her, silver head bobbing as she worked him. She looked so good with his cock in her mouth.
"More, yeah. Take it in, woman. Suck it!"
She brought her hand up to the head and gave him a long, firm stroke down, then opened her hand flat at the base, anchoring him and adding tension so his cock strained even harder outward. She backed off until she just had her tongue touching the end of him and flicked her eyes up to meet his. Giving him an open mouthed smile, she sank back down onto him, taking him deep into her throat. He gasped and jerked at being so deeply swallowed. The feel of her wet mouth and throat closing around him finally pushed him over, and he put a hand to the side of her head to warn her, but she didn't pull back. His balls drew up and he spurted, pumping her throat full of cum.
"Fuck! Oh, yeah, Carol, fuck yeah!"
He sagged against the wall after, while she licked him clean. When she was done, she kissed her way up his body as she rose to her feet, ending at his neck just below his jaw. He pulled one hand from the wall to wrap an arm around her waist and drag her flush to him.
"Holy shit," he mumbled.
She bit his neck softly and asked, "Was that what you wanted? Did you like it?"
"God, yes." He craned his head around to find her mouth and kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her tongue and finding he didn't really mind.
They pumped up some more water, and finished their shower, caressing and fondling each other. After they were done, they dried each other off - though he made sure she didn't leave the shower completely dry. He really liked thinking of her working her kitchen shift and sitting through the council meeting later with wet panties. They dressed in their clean clothes, but before she put on her pants, he slipped a hand down the front of her underwear to make sure she was nice and slick. She squirmed and fussed as he worked her, and whimpered when he removed his hand, leaving her unsatisfied.
"You're the one wanted to wait," he reminded her.
"Maybe I changed my mind," she said, running her fingers down his arm to guide his hand back to her panties.
"Maybe too bad," he said, pulling his hand back. He smirked down at her grumpy face and passed her the clean pants she'd brought. "And no grindin' your own coffee, neither. I like thinkin' of you worked up all day."
She made a frustrated growl. "Dammit."
They finished dressing, gathered up their things, and left the showers. Carol stalked off to go start her kitchen shift, while Daryl returned to his cell to pick up his crossbow. He passed Maggie as he was leaving the cell block to head for the fences. She had a shit-eating grin on her face, but he was in far too good a mood to give a damn. He quirked an eyebrow and gave a smug half-smile back her way, making her own grin falter just a bit in surprise.
He realized he'd never asked Carol about all those questions he'd had swirling around in his head. But it didn't seem to matter so much any more. It was him and Carol. The rest was just details.
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my old blue Honda that I love and miss terribly. She's still out there...somewhere.