.:Pattern:.
Rick could feel the sweat trickling down his body sharply, cooling his heated skin with a harsh chill that drained his energy and tensed his already sore muscles. He raised the collar of his plain undershirt to his face to dry it off, dampening the white linen fabric with sweat, and felt the bite of the winter air nipping at his exposed abdomen. For a moment, he considered taking the filthy thing off completely instead of feeling it plaster wetly to his back and chest, but decided against it when he caught Daryl's eyes on him from across the courtyard.
They averted their eyes the moment they met, and Rick felt his body burn for a different reason entirely.
It had been days since they completed that puzzle together, and as usual, Daryl seemed to keep his distance entirely after getting too close. It didn't exactly come as a surprise anymore, but Rick refused to regulate to those standards of sporadic intimacy littered between droughts of detachment. Having his affections being leashed until the other person felt like dealing with them felt hauntingly like his marriage if he were being honest.
With a little more force than necessary that his strained muscles groaned under, Rick finished hauling the snow away from their crops and set the shovel in the ground to pop his back. Their harvest so far was meager at best, but with their Thanksgiving rations diminished back down to canned foods, the scrawny carrots and wilted peas were enough to keep their spirits feebly aloft.
Rick finished his work quickly and brought the produce inside for Carol to wash and prepare in a watery stew of chicken stock, ignoring her forced, contrite smile with one of his own before heading off to the showers. His body ached to relax and his mind craved to wander, and he was happy to try and forget himself in the lukewarm water if only for a few minutes. They were all starting to feel the heavy effects of winter, and Rick knew that he was going to have to send someone out for supplies again sooner rather than later.
Before the staunch sense of duty could smother out any feeling of momentary bliss, Rick geared his thoughts towards a different sort of attention – a kind more alluring, dangerous, aggravating. Daryl.
The last feel of his lips on Rick's tongue brought no clarity or satisfaction to his senses. It just motivated a wild hunger for more, to summon that sharp gasp from the other man once more as he took his mouth with his own, to taste and to touch in full. But that stunned look in Daryl's crystal eyes brought his indulgence to a grinding halt, the desperate self-reproach that filled his vacant veins a harsh reminder of his natural obligation for patience.
The leisure of his shower was short lived as he sobered up and dried off, pausing for a moment to almost guiltily look at himself in the mirror while he ran the towel through his hair. It felt nearly childish to scan along the outline of his body and to try and remember what this body used to look like when it was nourished properly, trained heavily. He was thinner than he had ever been before, Rick knew that much, and he looked hungry, but he was slightly proud that he didn't yet look ravished by the ending of the world. Strong muscles protruded without any luxury fat to soften them, tendons pulled tight into wiry pistons, hipbones traced the cant of his hips, but it wasn't grotesque – at least not yet. It surely wasn't a sight he cared to see looking back in a mirror, but they didn't fully resemble walkers yet, and that felt almost like an accomplishment.
With mixed feelings, Rick pushed his misplaced vanity aside – refinement and good looks were an extravagance of old, and Rick had no time to worry about empty concerns of appeal.
Once he was back in his room, Rick drew the map from his nightstand to decide on their next place to search for food and supplies, settling on Franklin as the closest remaining option. Greensville and Woodbury were next on the list should this town be another dead end, but Rick wanted his people as near as possible in case anything were to happen.
Rick was running the towel through his damp hair again absentmindedly and looking over the map when he heard someone clear their voice behind him. Thrill spiked in his veins involuntarily when he recognized the gruffly silent presence and turned around to face his company. Daryl stood in the doorway, only approaching when Rick gave him a careful half smile, but still shoved his hands in his pockets and kept his distance.
"Hey," greeted Rick with a nod. "Was hoping you'd stop by."
Daryl's eyes were guarded, but something seemed to shift behind them at Rick's words. Similarly, his voice was colored with something hidden just under the surface when he asked, "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," Rick smiled as he hung the wet towel around his neck and put the map away. "I got a supply run for ya."
"Oh."
Rick clenched his jaw to keep his understanding grin to himself, knowing how on edge it would set Daryl if the other man saw his amusement. The anxious disappointment hiding behind Daryl's aloof posture was all but transparent to Rick now, as he had been on the other side of this conversation not too long ago. It made Rick come closer to Daryl, watching the pressure in the other man's body shift as he did, and Rick dared a small grin. "Interested?"
Daryl stood closer to him than he had since they kissed last, and the proximity made Rick heady with anticipation boiling up inside him. It burned hotter still when Daryl's eyes once again seemed to fixate on Rick's mouth, lifted at the corners, and Rick felt the parallels of their role reversals glaringly.
"Daryl," Rick spoke, making Daryl's attention flit away consciously, down to the ground to safe neutrality. Rick knew the bittersweet comfort in that and hated it, so he chose to be direct. The last thing he wanted was for Daryl to feel that same uncertainty he had. "You need an open invitation or somethin'?"
His forthright approach made Daryl look back up, meeting his gaze with a vulnerable buoyancy that he seemed too unassuming to broach, but told Rick everything. Reaching out, Rick slid his fingers up Daryl's forearm, letting a tender softness blossoming in his heart touch his features warmly. Their friendship had morphed into something else entirely long ago, something more fierce and protective starting from the day they met, cultivating some deep seated allure that moved them to unyielding passion. It was a whirlwind of their time spent together funneling into unbidden fantasy, unspoken and unwelcome for too long. They had already crossed this line together, and Rick didn't want Daryl nervously stumbling backwards over it.
"If it's my permission yer wanting," he breathed a whisper against Daryl's cheek, watching the younger man's eyes flutter for a moment. "Then that goes without saying."
Wide sapphires flashed up to his gunmetal eyes like live wires, powered on and brought to life by Rick's approval, and the last thing Rick registered was how appealing Daryl looked when he was amorous. Daryl grabbed the towel around Rick's neck and dragged it to the floor with a heavy thud, then curled his hand into Rick's still-damp hair and pulled their lips together eagerly. Smiling into the kiss, Rick happily obliged the younger man and his ambitious mouth, the memory of his most recent screw up still hot in his mind. He didn't want to push Daryl any further than what he was ready for, but the feel of Daryl pressing his body close made compliance harder than he thought.
Daryl felt different in his arms than he had any time before, mouth demanding and unrelenting, all traces of timidity gone and replaced with a carnal curiosity. It was exactly how the archer acted in all other facets of their dynamic together – reserved, guarded, biding his strength for Rick's 'okay', then was a force of ferocious power when he got it. He didn't give Rick the chance to take the lead and instead let his lips move on their own accord with his hunter-like instincts, making the kiss rough and territorial, and it felt so addictively like Daryl.
For just an instant, Daryl pulled back to look Rick in the eyes, something stormy in his eyes that knitted his brows, and Rick used that time to steady himself and quell his rampant yearning. He would be decent, respectable, the kind of man Daryl deserved to –
Before he could figure out what kind of man Daryl deserved, calloused hands framed his face and held him very still, and slowly, so slowly, Daryl leaned back in. Rick's heartrate pitched dizzyingly when he felt the other man's lips, tender with inexperience, part open and followed suit with eager compliance. He felt Daryl's tongue against his own experimentally and groaned softly into the kiss, fueled by electric want. Daryl's body responded to the noise tersely against his, arching up blindly for more contact, and trembling hands swiftly lead them both to the edge of the cot so that this time Rick was seated against Daryl's will.
Rick chuckled, lightheaded in the moment, when Daryl straddled his hips to bring their bodies together again. Nervous, Daryl pulled back to look at him, his fiery eyes now wary from Rick's sudden amusement, and knitted his brows.
"What?" he asked with a skittish gruffness in his voice, as if he worried he did something wrong, but challenged Rick to continue to laugh at him for it. It made Rick pull him close again and wrap his arms around him reassuringly, closing his eyes to let the moment sink in.
"Nothin," Rick promised, feeling Daryl relax a little at his words. "Just thought I went too far last time, is all."
A slight flush ran up Daryl's throat lusciously as he looked away with a scowl. "I ain't some dainty flower ya gotta worry 'bout. Won't break on ya or anythin', neither," growled Daryl.
Still smiling, Rick tugged Daryl back with a gentle hand, maneuvering them so that he was laying back on the bed beneath the other man. "I'll keep that in mind."
Daryl took a second to adjust to the new position, clearly uncomfortable with the endless possibilities their new arrangements offered despite his bold words. His hands clenched the bedsheets on each side of Rick with some restless energy and his taut arms kept himself suspended above the older man. Rick ran his palms up along his strained muscles, over his shoulders and down his back, trying to ease the nerves clearly going mad beneath his fingertips.
An intensity was wired between them, pulled tight and drawing them nearer with every baited breath, until the weight of the moment snapped and Daryl leaned down. "You better," he whispered against Rick's lips before lapping against them, gaining immediate entry. Daryl seemed to be hunting for that sound again, delving into Rick's mouth with a possessive curiosity and Rick gave it to him easily, uncontrollably almost.
Feeling Daryl domineer the kiss was like a wild animal, a predator, his natural state of being, and it was wholly different than anything Rick had experienced before. Being with a woman was like being called out to a volatile situation that he had to diffuse – the stakes were high, he had to think about every move he made, and there was so much talking involved. Being with Daryl like this was an effortless thing, a matter of action and mutual culmination of thoughtless, hectic devotion. There was no worry of syrupy adulation, of accidentally pulling hair, or of ruining makeup before meeting the in-laws. He could kiss Daryl with all the passion he could muster, and Daryl would kiss him right on back.
Before long, their bodies found that same sense of pressing urgency that incited their mouths, consumed by a rhythm so deeply ingrained that it felt visceral, effortless. Rick was honestly surprised that Daryl had provoked all this, that he had let Rick so unconditionally close by taking the lead, but didn't question it further. It was staggering to see what they could beget, what they could become together when left alone with nothing but wanton whimsy.
Being with a man was exhilarating, but being with Daryl was so much more than that. Rick had never felt the stubble of another man graze his face, or the hard contours of a man's body that was so antithetical to the soft, fragile body of a woman. Most certainly he had never felt the rigid contrast of a thick erection outlined against his own.
Rick rolled his hips forward, searching for that perfect pressure, that heated traction that left his jeans tighter than he cared for, and found it along the curve of Daryl's thigh. Daryl pulled back from the kiss with a gasping groan, lost, but didn't pull away from the friction tracing between his legs and instead tucked his head against Rick's neck heavily. He could feel Daryl's thudding pulse against his neck, his chest, his groin, everywhere the other man touched him. The fact that Daryl was still here, grinding their cocks together firmly, nestled against Rick and struggling to breathe, started to make Rick feel heady with unbridled ambition.
Slowly, pausing with enough time to give the other man warning to his intentions, Rick's hands crept to the hem of Daryl's shirt to touch his skin. It was hot and clammy against his fingertips, and Rick felt the beads of sweat pooling in the sensual dip of Daryl's lower back. He began to lift the shirt, wanting a whole torso bared victim to his hands and mouth, but Daryl reacted faster than Rick could register.
Daryl recoiled off of him with more grace than Rick thought humanly possible in their current state, even ducking his head to keep from bumping it on the top bunk this time. A cold air filled Rick's heated, pulsing body, freezing his sweat slickened skin as if he were still outside doing chores.
"Little cold fer that, dontcha think?" Daryl said as he yanked down his shirt.
Rick sat up slowly, feeling his body resist doing anything that didn't include Daryl's, but tried not to look disappointed as he looked up at the other man. "Thought you weren't some dainty flower?" he spoke lightly, knowing that Daryl would at least simmer down into comfortable banter despite being so tense. This whole dynamic was raucous and new to them both, Rick reminded himself, and their familiar derision likely felt somewhat safe for Daryl.
"Didn't think you'd be tryin' ta get me naked already," responded Daryl sheepishly. He didn't seem to take the bait of Rick's teasing as he held the hem of his shirt.
"I didn't realize that it was out of the question," Rick countered before sobering up at the look on Daryl's face. The normally impenitent man looked embarrassed, apologetic even, and wouldn't look at Rick. Rick swallowed thickly when he realized that this wasn't the time or place for their familiar teasing conduct, and thought back to every time Daryl had been caught shirtless before. Between that distressing time he had been worked on by Hershel and the time Rick caught him in the shower, as hazy as that night was, Rick recalled Daryl's desperation to cover himself. Rick wasn't positive, but he had a faint inkling as to why Daryl wouldn't be caught dead without a shirt. He clenched his jaw at the worn memory of the hunter's body melded together with silvery marks and waved away Daryl's anxiety. "Hey. I wasn't thinkin' right. I shouldn't have tried to… Don't worry about it, okay?"
Daryl still looked conflicted, and the last thing Rick wanted was him trying to explain himself, so he put on a smile and gestured towards the cell door. "'Sides, it wouldn't do ta fool around with these cells the way they are."
"Guess it's a good thing 'm goin' on a run, then," Daryl said, conflict gone from his posture and just like that, they were all business. Rick felt his heart sink a little, knowing full well that this is just what he'd have to expect when he came too close to Daryl's finicky boundaries, but played along anyway. For Daryl's sake.
"I take it you're interested?"
With a wordless answer, Daryl walked over to Rick's nightstand and pulled out the map, ironically heedless of any permission when it came to this. Rick cocked a half smile as he watched the other man look over the paper, no doubt memorizing the route in no time at all, before stuffing it back in the drawing with a smirk.
"Ain't that far," spoke the younger man confidently, leaning against the stand. "Should only be half a day out, if we're lucky."
You mean if you don't run into trouble, Rick correct mentally, feeling his brows tighten with reflexive worry. Always the perceptive one, Daryl took a step closer so that their legs were touching, and it wasn't going to keep Daryl here, safe, but it was enough for now. "I want you in and out. Leave no trace, is that clear?"
Daryl chewed at the corners of his thumb thoughtfully before answering. "Is it just me goin'?"
"No." Rick's answer was automatic and adamant, and that settled it. "I want you to take Oscar with you. He was there with Hershel, he might have a good idea of what to expect if… If you run into anything."
He was met with a reassuring nod, one of the mutual, unspoken gestures that Rick treasured between them, and nodded back. Daryl didn't question, didn't argue, didn't ask for more than Rick could give, and the unconditional trust they held for each other gave Rick a peace he hadn't felt as long as he could remember. In turn, Rick would stand do right by Daryl, always.
In that moment, he felt something powerful surge through him, something stronger than lust, but nothing he cared to give a name to. All he knew is that he desperately wished he could kiss the other man, and resigned himself to giving Daryl the usual space that came routinely after their intimacy. Kissing Daryl was validating, fulfilling, and he could lose himself in their touch, not forgetting all of his mistakes in life, exactly, but for once not punishing himself for them. He didn't know if he would ever voice that to Daryl, even if he knew how to, but liked to think that the other knew anyway. Perhaps Daryl might even know what it felt like to feel whole when they came together and came undone, too.
Still, Rick couldn't resist reaching up to touch Daryl's waist affectionately as he whispered somberly, "Just stay safe."
He wasn't surprised when Daryl pulled away from his touch, but wasn't expecting it to be because the younger man drew closer. It caught Rick off guard, having Daryl lean down towards him, hands draped on the top bunk to leverage himself just above Rick's line of vision, and he held his breath in anticipation.
"Will do," he whispered as he leaned in, capturing Rick's mouth once more with his own. It was chaste enough – as chaste as Daryl Dixon could be, really – and it was invigorating to feel that chasm close between them.
Rick did nothing to hide the foolish, fantastic smile that crinkled his eyes when Daryl parted moments later, could do nothing other than beam up at the other man in placidity. Daryl's lips quirked in a half smile at his expression as he straightened and backed away, and Rick knew that he probably looked like a grizzly, grinning idiot, but couldn't be bothered. It felt like whispers to stop worrying, assurances that he hadn't screwed up yet, promises of more to come, and Rick reveled in it.
Daryl parted shortly after to go meet with Oscar about their upcoming trip in the next three days, leaving Rick to lay back down in his cot and regret having already taken a shower today.
The day of their run came too soon for Rick's liking. He knew they still needed various items of various importance – food, medicine, ammo and the like – but never felt as prepared as he should whenever anyone had to leave the fence. Stifling a yawn, Rick walked down to the Ford pickup where Daryl and Oscar mulled about, geared up and ready to go. Ready to leave somewhere miles away, far from where Rick could keep tabs on them, too distant to haul them out if they got backed into a corner. He begged his stomach to settle, for his thoughts to relax somewhat, so that his face might not show the dismal feeling that haunted him. At the very least, he wanted his parting smile to be earnest.
Nonetheless, the smile that pulled at his lips came with far less resistance than he thought when Daryl turned towards him. For the past three days, they had stopped each other for quick kisses when they could, each time feeling out one another's boundaries zealously, slowly playing out comfort zones. Really, it still felt rather hasty to Rick and his ancient principles, but when his fingers dipped beneath fabric and found hot flesh and backbone divots, those convictions seemed arbitrary at best.
"'Mornin'," Rick greeted them, still smiling with startling ease. The churning in his gut wasn't gone, but it became somewhat tolerable when Daryl nodded back, a half smile dancing on his lips.
Once more, the three of them went over the route and the supplies that they were lacking, not because Rick thought they needed it again, but because he needed it. Whether he was stalling was beside the point, as the rational part of him knew they were burning precious early-morning daylight, but if for just a little longer he felt like he could keep them safe, it was almost worth it.
"Be on the lookout," he reminded them needlessly as they got in the cab of the truck. "If this goes south – "
"It won't," Daryl interrupted, reaching out from the open window to grasp Rick's arm bracingly. It shocked him of his worry to have Daryl initiate contact for once, and he hoped Daryl couldn't feel his blood surge in his veins at his mere touch.
Rick swallowed thickly at the other's certainty, allowing Daryl's confidence to assure him a little. Daryl was a man of close calls, measuring his life in narrow inches and perfect timing, and while Rick wished the hunter would widen his margin of error now and then, had to admit that he had an affinity for serendipity. Resigned, Rick nodded as he squeezed Daryl's arm back, tenderly, letting the fondness he felt fill his eyes for just a moment despite their company. He then looked over at Oscar, ordered them both to be safe, before withdrawing to open the gate for their departure.
Up in the watchtower, Carol peaked her sleepy head out from the door, a thick wool blanket around her frail body as she waived them off as well.
"Don't be gone too long, you two," she called down.
Daryl waved her worries away as he did with Rick, and she looked just as placated as he felt by the hunter's dismissal as she went back into the tower. Then, with a rush of sound unsettling the pre-morning calm, Daryl started the engine and pulled out slowly, shaded eyes on Rick as left the gate. When they cleared the fence, Rick yanked it shut and chained it back up, noting the handful of stray walkers caught in Daryl's various traps around their outpost.
Silently, Rick stood there, propped up against the fence until he could no longer hear the rumble of their pickup, and waited even longer after that. The first incandescent tendrils of warm daybreak cast a chain-link pattern across his face, and he took a moment to bask in the plumate morning veil, then turned to head towards the tower. There was no way he could find sleep again in this brittle state, and sooner opted to watch the sun rise with Carol than let his hazy thoughts continue to run rampant.
A/N: Please let me know what you guys think as I delve into a little thing called "smut". I have no clue how to traverse it, much like these two seem, so please help keep me in line if this gets too... awkward haha. I really value all of your opinions and feedback, and it means so much to me that you're still reading. Thank you, and I'll see you next week with some scarier stuff!