AN: Confession…I was going to write this chapter before tonight's episode, but I didn't know that it would be quite this…well…whatever it is. So I'll admit, maybe it's not a great chapter and maybe it's a little overboard, but after tonight's episode, I just wanted to write it for my feels. It's shameless self-indulgence. That's all I'll say about that.
So I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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By the time that Carol got Cayden down and in his crib, she was ready for bed. Her bad mood had slowly given away to being…not in a good mood…but being in a better one. She'd gotten busy, at least, with the things that she needed to do, and Alice had come through on her promise to get help on the things that needed to be done.
But it didn't erase the feelings entirely.
And maybe that was the downside to the comfort that they had now. Maybe that was the greatest shortcoming of the safety.
More than ever before, it took so much out from in front of them that they'd spent their time worrying about. It relieved so much of the stress that followed them around.
And the stress was bad, but it was also what kept a lot of them going and it was kept them from dwelling on the little things. It was kept them from dwelling on anything.
They'd known some of that at the prison. They'd known, just a little, every now and again, what it was to have time to think about things…time to let feelings come, whether you wanted them or not, that you'd been holding back. But even in the prison, there hadn't been quite the feeling that they had here, and Carol imagined that her own overload of feelings was coming directly from the fact that, without so many great things to worry about, there was so much room to worry about what was so insignificant when your life and the lives of everyone you loved were on the line.
She hoped that she could slip into bed, curl up beside Daryl, and go to sleep. And she hoped that in the window of time that Cayden let her sleep, she was able to simply get over these feelings and have her emotions realize, like her rationality did, that there wasn't any need wasting time or energy on something as trivial and as stupid as feelings of being taken for granted, feelings of being used, feelings of being unappreciated.
The small lantern they kept was burning by the bedside, as it always was, when Carol slipped into the room. She expected to find Daryl already asleep, as he typically was, when she returned, but he was awake, lying on his side and propped on his elbow, waiting on her.
She smiled just to see him there…often she couldn't help but smile just by seeing him.
"I thought you'd be asleep," she said.
"Lil' man out?" Daryl asked.
Carol nodded her head and sucked in a breath, coming over and sitting on the side of the bed, working her way out of the pants that she'd slipped into after she'd washed off earlier. They were a pair of really terrible pajama pants…absolutely hideous…but they were comfortable, they fit, and no one was trying to win any fashion awards these days.
Carol felt the bed shift around as Daryl repositioned himself, the mattress swaying with his movements, and then she was surprised to feel his hands, warm and strong, grasp her shoulders.
Her initial response was to jump a little from the unexpected move, but then she immediately relaxed, and he kneaded her shoulders gently, causing her to moan out.
Daryl chuckled.
"Start that shit they gon' wake up 'cross the damn hall too early," Daryl said.
Carol giggled in response.
"I'm sorry…just feels good…" she commented.
Daryl hummed behind her, continuing his work, and she smiled to herself.
Daryl wasn't exactly a romantic man by any stretch of the imagination. He was probably never the kind of man to watch movies about wooing women and treating them a certain way. She couldn't imagine it would have been his style before all of this.
But yet…for all her thoughts that he wasn't romantic, that he wasn't the man that cheesy movies were made of…there was something very romantic about Daryl, and part of the charm came from the fact that he so seldom even realized what he was doing.
As he worked his hands down her back, she leaned forward and he stopped abruptly, almost making her want to sob at the ceasing of the pleasure that she was just sinking into…pleasure that she wanted.
"Lay down…" Daryl said.
His voice was low and husky, carrying the heavy sound that it usually did when he was turned on…the sound that Carol's body responded to almost automatically because it was as if she was wired to know what was coming next and to begin preparing for it so that she could get the most out of each and every second of it.
Carol turned and looked at Daryl over her shoulder, and he gestured toward the bed. She hadn't realized before, when he was resting on his side and covered by the blanket, that he hadn't bothered to put any of his clothes on after they'd washed off…and suddenly she felt overdressed.
She raised an eyebrow at him, smirking.
"Should I…put on something more appropriate?" She teased.
Daryl's face blushed a darker color and he smirked, nodding his head as his only response.
Carol smiled and stood up, quickly ridding herself of everything and then lying on the bed on her stomach, resting her head on her arms.
Daryl fumbled around and she was even further surprised when she smelled the smell of lavender and heard him rubbing his hands together vigorously before he sunk back into massaging her…obviously with oil.
Carol sat up, disturbing him, and turned her head toward him a little.
"Massage oil, Daryl?" She asked. "Am I in the right room?"
Daryl chuckled lightly.
"Somewhere else ya ass'd rather be?" He responded back.
Carol chuckled and lie back down.
"No…there's nowhere else," she said. "But you have to admit…it's kinda romantic…"
Daryl chuckled, still rubbing at her back.
"Wanna screw around?" He asked.
Carol laughed then, turning her face into her arm for a moment, remembering jokes they'd shared in a past that felt light years away sometimes.
"I could be convinced…" she said, drawing her words out to try to make it sound like she would actually need some type of convincing.
Daryl chuckled again, but it took a moment before he responded verbally, his hands having reached her hips now, massaging the area for her benefit…but if she knew Daryl, it would be for his as well before long.
"I'll go down first…" he teased.
"Even better…" Carol responded back.
She was losing the fight with herself at the moment. As much as she enjoyed the massage, it had her relaxed…more relaxed than she'd been in some time…and the smell of the lavender was certainly doing something to her senses.
That, coupled with the teasing words and the odd mixture of gentle and rough that always accompanied Daryl's touch, had Carol more than interested in exploring other ways to relax before bed…and she didn't even care at this point if anyone went down or not. She just wanted to move, and she wanted to have Daryl in her arms.
Carol sat up, and Daryl looked at her, his eyes heavily lidded the way they always were when he was more than ready for things to progress to another level, but they also held something of surprise that she would interrupt her own massage like that.
"Come here…" Carol said, gesturing toward him. She didn't have to tell him twice because he came to her, his hunger seeping out of him then, and pulled her against him, kissing her roughly and deeply like he'd been holding back the kiss for days.
She moaned into his mouth to convince him to continue with the kiss and she used her body to move him…showing him that she wanted him to lie down this time…and he willingly obeyed her.
She leaned over him, once he was lying down, and she smiled at the fact that he was smiling at her…looking at her with some kind of expression she wasn't sure how to read on his face.
"What?" She asked.
He chuckled and shook his head slightly, his hands on her body, pulling her toward him, trying to lead her where she was headed anyway. She stopped him for the moment, though, from pulling her over to straddle him.
"What?" She repeated, a hint of laughter escaping her throat.
"Nothin'!" He declared. "Just thinkin'…that'cha look damn pretty right now…can I think that shit? 'Bout my own damn wife?"
Carol smiled and nodded before dipping her head and bringing their lips back together. He opened his mouth for her and she let her tongue dive into his mouth and join in a twisting game with his, his hand going to the back of her head and tangling in her hair to keep her from moving away from him if that had been her intent.
Though moving away from him wasn't her intention at all.
When they finally did break apart, Daryl sat up enough, rearranging himself, to draw her nipple into his mouth and she moaned again, like before, without the presence of mind to control it…though she doubted now that he meant for her to.
He moved to the other and she let go with her relaxation and the feelings that were coursing through her. And he moved to lick her neck, stopping just at her chin and placing a gentle kiss there.
When he moved back flat onto the mattress, Carol took the place she'd been working toward and straddled him, sliding down on him all at once, both of them moaning in unison with the feeling of being so entirely connected for the moment.
And Daryl helped her then, his hands around her waist, to find a rhythm that she kept up, supporting herself with her hands on his chest.
He kept his eyes locked on hers and she didn't dare to break the visual connection between them. She watched his eyes…just as she knew he was watching hers…as both of them worked to find pleasure together and finally to find release at almost the same time, him following so closely behind her that his final thrusts in search of what he was seeking only served to prolong what she'd already found.
And when they were done, she collapsed on top of him, lying across his body, and listened to the sound of him breathing and the rush of his blood fueled by his pounding heart.
When she tried, after a few moments, to move off of him in silence, he stopped her, his arm tight around her, moving just enough to find the blanket and pull it up over both of them.
She raised enough to kiss his chest, feeling his hands rubbing over her back, his fingertips rough from the work they'd been doing scratching gently at her skin.
"I mighta heard ya was tensed up an' bitchy 'bout somethin'…" Daryl said after a moment.
Carol chuckled and readjusted herself, lying back in almost the same position.
"Oh? You might have heard that?" She asked.
Daryl grunted.
"Is that where you got the massage oil?" Carol asked.
Daryl chuckled.
"Maybe…" he said.
Carol rubbed her face against him and sighed.
"Ya still tensed up?" He asked.
"No…no…actually, I'm feeling about as relaxed as I think I could feel," Carol said. She yawned as her body's way of illustrating her point and the yawn made her giggle a little because Daryl caught it from her and yawned immediately after.
"Yeah…I'm feelin' pretty damn good myself," Daryl said. "Gotta admit…they's somethin' to this massage shit…"
Carol chuckled.
"There is…I'm sure that's what it was…that did the trick," Carol teased. "For you too…"
"Listen," Daryl said after a minute, the tone of his voice slowly changing back to its normal sound and drifting away from the huskier sound that it had held before. "You…uh…ya feelin' stressed an' shit or ya got'cha feelin's hurt…say somethin' 'bout it."
Carol sighed.
"It was just silly, Daryl," Carol said. "Honestly…I'm over it now. I was just…I don't know. I just had one of those days…and it seemed like everyone was involved in something else…it was almost like everyone was having fun…and then what was I doing?"
Daryl chuckled.
"Wouldn't really call what nobody was doin' fun…" Daryl responded with something of a grunt at the end of his words. "But then I wouldn't wanna be washin' no nasty ass drawers neither…so I reckon ya gotta right ta be bitchy 'bout it sometimes."
Carol felt oddly like she had some kind of free pass. Daryl could be one of the quickest in the group to tell you to suck something up. He would tell you faster than most of the others how ridiculous you were being, how he wasn't going to deal with you if you were going to complain about something that you didn't need to complain about. He was one of the ones that hardly ever seemed to lose track of the train of thought that every day was a fight for survival and losing your shit over little things wasn't allowed.
But he'd give her permission, every now and again, to just be bitchy over washing someone's dirty underwear if it made her feel better.
She leaned up again, moving herself to bring their lips together, softly at first and then deeper. And Daryl held the kiss as long as she wanted it…let her be the one to break it.
"I love you," she offered him. She smiled. "Thank you for the massage…and for letting me be bitchy."
Daryl chuckled and leaned up, bringing their lips together again for a soft, quick peck.
"Any damn time, woman…" Daryl said. "Reckon you let me be an asshole when the mood hits me…so I ain't gon' stop ya from bitchin'…"
"Like two peas in a pod…" Carol responded.
Daryl snickered and shook his head at her and Carol moved off of him long enough to blow their light out before she returned to her position, even though she could have chosen to lie on the mattress beside him, to close her eyes and sleep…suddenly unable to really remember what it was that had seemed so important that morning and had her so riled up.
