AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"You don't think something happened?" Daryl whispered.
Sophia was freshly tucked in. In his room, Daryl was pretty sure that Hershel was sleeping, even though his lamp was still on, because he'd heard snoring in patches earlier.
Above everything, though, he didn't want to risk waking Sophia or stirring her up before she'd had a chance to get really good and dedicated to her sleep. Tonight had been a night requiring a bath, a story and nursing, two drinks of water and an extra trip to the bathroom before her bedtime diaper, and another story, for good measure, to get her to go to sleep—exciting days meant harder nights.
Merle had gone to try to make things up with Andrea. Shortly after he'd left, Hershel had returned with Sophia. Before long, life had simply gotten going again. There were meals to eat and a few small chores to take care of around their new home. Sophia was happy, active, and playful, and she demanded a certain amount of everyone's attention.
Daryl and Carol hadn't wanted to interrupt any kind of crucial moment between Merle and Andrea with a string of questions about how things were going, so they'd stayed quiet and simply waited. It seemed, though, that Merle and Andrea hadn't felt the need to offer any kinds of updates.
"I think they're probably just—tired," Carol said. "And digesting all of this. It's a pretty big thing to deal with."
She was propped against her pillow with a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose, eating peanut butter out of a jar with a spoon, and reading a paperback that she'd gotten from the community storehouse of items.
And she looked so damned perfect that Daryl could hardly stand it.
"What?" She asked, glancing up at Daryl from her spot in the book where whatever-the-heroine's-name-was was probably being ravaged by the guy who hadn't had a shirt since page two. She'd loved those books for as long as Daryl had known her—he remembered her grabbing one even back at the CDC—and he'd always tried to grab them for her when he'd been somewhere and seen a few.
"I fuckin' love you," Daryl offered.
She licked her lips.
"That's unexpected, but…sweet," Carol said, smiling to herself. It took her a moment to digest the compliment. "I love you, too."
Daryl brought in the two glasses of water from the kitchen that he'd gone to fetch. He put one on his nightstand and crossed around the room to rest the other on Carol's nightstand. She smiled at him the whole way around the bed, and she was still smiling appreciatively when he put the glass down.
"Thank you, Pookie," she teased him.
"Stop," he said, swallowing back his smile. He leaned down toward her and she understood what he wanted and tipped her face toward him so that he could kiss her. She nipped his lip and, when he leaned closer, allowed him to deepen the kiss. He sat down, quickly, on her side of the bed, and before long they were tangled up in a few moments of making out like they were nothing more than horny teenagers.
"Mmm," she hummed with satisfaction when Daryl pulled away to get his breath. She dabbed at her lips.
"You taste like peanut butter," Daryl said. In response, Carol licked her spoon clean, put the lid on her jar, and put it on the bedside table. "I didn't mean you had to stop eatin' it. It's good for you. Got a lot of protein. Hershel said if you were gonna snack, the best thing you could do would be to eat healthy snacks like that full of good stuff for the baby."
"I was done, really," Carol insisted.
Daryl leaned over and picked up her book. In the heated make-out session, it had fallen to the floor.
"Lost your page," Daryl said. "You gonna remember which sex scene you was on?" He grinned at her, half-flipping through the pages.
"Asshole," Carol said, laughing to herself and reaching for the book.
Daryl let her have it, and he slipped his hand around, under the cover, to find her bare legs. She was wearing nothing more than an oversized shirt. She'd likely lose it, too, during the night. She complained of being cold and hot at night—sometimes alternating every few moments—and she complained that things were starting to get twisted uncomfortably around her body while she slept. If she wanted to sleep entirely naked, Daryl didn't object and, even if Sophia were to come into their room, she was comfortable with her mother's body.
Under the cover, Daryl's fingers tripped gently over Carol's legs and found the soft curls that his fingertips were searching out. He slipped his fingers down, pausing a moment to brush his finger over her clit, and slipped his fingers on to find the warm wetness that he expected. He watched her face, but there was no sign of disapproval on her features, so he stroked her with two fingers before leaning toward her slightly.
"What are you doing?" She asked, a hint of a smile showing at the edge of her lips and the corner of her eyes.
"Nothin'," Daryl said with a smirk. He pulled his hand back and winked at her as he sucked his fingers.
He stood up.
"You're just—stopping?" She asked.
He laughed to himself and shrugged his shoulders.
"Why not?" He asked. He walked over to the dresser and started undressing, half-folding his clothes and piling them there. What he was wearing was clean. He'd taken a shower while Carol had been nursing Sophia and reading to her—and then he'd traded off to allow Carol to shower.
He knew she was watching him. He could practically feel her watching him. And, just like she sometimes gave him a little show like he liked it, he consciously flexed the muscles in his ass and moved so that his back and shoulder muscles would give her a bit of a show during the whole process of undressing. He wasn't fond of other people seeing his back—and he certainly didn't like them seeing him naked—but Carol liked to look at him and he liked her looking at him. Besides, she let him see the parts of her that she felt self-conscious about, and he loved every single one of them.
"I get it's a big deal and all," Daryl said. "I mean—if he asked her to marry him, and…they're havin' a baby an' all that. But I mean—it's not a big deal like a bad big deal."
"I didn't say it was," Carol said. "Though I'm not sure Merle agrees, entirely, with that assessment of things."
"Bein' married ain't so damn hard as he thinks it's gonna be," Daryl said.
"I'm glad you feel that way," Carol said.
She was grinning at him when he turned around. All he had left on were his boxers. He'd at least drop those by the side of the bed so he could grab them in a hurry if it were necessary.
"You know what I mean," Daryl said.
"I do," Carol assured him. "And you and I are very happy married—at least, I think."
"Stop it," Daryl said. "You know that shit."
"But Merle's afraid. He's made it up in his mind that it's something hard. Something—almost insurmountable. It's just going to take time for him to realize that it's not going to be any different than what he was already doing with Andrea. I mean—they've been living together. As far as I know, he's been faithful to her. Nothing's going to change."
"Nothin' changes except—you sleep better," Daryl said.
He closed the door the rest of the way from where he'd left it slightly ajar. He pushed it shut and walked to his side of the bed.
"You sleep better?" Carol asked.
"Knowin' that it don't end no time soon," Daryl said. "You don't worry about—when they change their mind. At least not as much. You just—sleep better. And a kid? That's about the best shit that could happen to the both of you."
Carol laughed to herself. She shifted to somewhat turn toward him. She was still propped against her pillows just as she had been when he'd come in and interrupted her reading—though now she'd even shed her reading glasses.
"Merle is afraid of that, too, and I think you're going to have your hands full getting him through Daddy boot camp."
"What about you? You ain't helpin'?" Daryl asked.
"I don't know anything about being a Daddy," Carol teased, her voice somewhat sing-songy. "That's your area of expertise. I imagine that I'm going to have more than a little work to do even just comforting Andrea. This is her first time doing this and…circumstances are a little more intense than they once were."
"If anybody's gonna be good at teachin' somebody how to be a Mama? It'll be you," Daryl said. "You're a good Mama. The kind every damn kid wishes they had."
"And you're a good Daddy. And a wonderful husband," Carol insisted. "If Merle pays attention? He's got the best teacher around to have him doing this married life and parenting life like a pro."
Daryl's stomach fluttered happily with the compliment. He worked his way over in the bed and rolled back the cover enough to press his lips to her belly repeatedly. The skin fluttered underneath his lips and he laughed to himself.
"You or him?" He asked.
"Him, that time," Carol said. She shivered. "That was me."
"Cold?" Daryl asked.
"Mmm mmm," Carol said. "Hot." Daryl rolled the cover back a bit more. Carol laughed low in her throat. "Not that kind of hot, Daryl. You know—it's very rude to start something and then not finish it."
Daryl smiled to himself. He inched a little closer to her, closing the distance between them in the bed.
"Gimme your hand," he said.
Carol eyed him, but she gave him her hand. He kissed her fingers, turned it over, and kissed her palm. Then he brought her hand down and touched it to the skin of his own abdomen—just above the band of his boxers. He smiled at her when she laughed to herself. She turned her hand, slipped it down, and closed it around him. Immediately, he closed his eyes. She knew just how much pressure to use. She knew just how he liked it. As soon as his body offered her over some of its own natural lubrication, she caught it with her fingertips and continued her work.
"This could be a lot smoother if I had some—lotion or lubricant," she offered.
Daryl reached over and, slipping his hand between her legs, immediately stroked her again with his fingertips.
"Feels to me like you got plenty," he said. "If you wanna—open up them legs for me, I got some ideas about how I could help you get ready for bed. Slip you a lil' somethin' to help you sleep real good."
She snorted, unable to stop her laughter before it escaped.
"I don't know," she said, already moving around to change her position—clearly already deciding what she wanted and how she wanted it to happen. "The doctor might not approve of that. I've got to think about the baby and all."
Seeing what she wanted, Daryl pushed the cover back, freed himself, and got rid of his boxers while she shed the shirt she was wearing more for decoration than anything else. Wrapping his arms around her, and pulling her back against his chest, Daryl took a moment to hold her, running his hands lovingly up and down the front of her body—he cupped her breasts, teased her nipples, and ran his hands around her belly. The baby kicked against his palm when he found just the right spot.
"The sleepin' supplement I got for you is all natural," Daryl assured her. "Good for you, even. Won't hurt the baby. But—you sure he ain't gonna mind me administerin' it to you?"
Carol laughed to herself again and turned enough to press a few kisses to Daryl's jaw and cheek before she assumed her desired position and reached a hand back to wiggle her fingers at Daryl as an invitation.
"He likes to be rocked to sleep," Carol said.
In the beginning, Daryl had really had a few questions about sex while Carol was pregnant. And, since he'd felt the baby moving, they'd had a few more conversations about things. He was feeling more comfortable now, though, and it didn't take much convincing for him to accept that the baby knew nothing about what was going on and wasn't so much as inconvenienced. If anything, all he knew was that he got a nice, large dose of whatever happy hormones it was that Carol's body released when she orgasmed, and he got to be rocked to sleep by the movements.
Maybe, even, he somehow benefitted from knowing, even before he could know much else, that his parents loved one another.
And they did love one another.
Daryl liked when Carol changed her position while they were having sex, this time lowering herself down to rest on her knees and elbows instead of her palms halfway through everything. He liked her participation—verbally and physically—as an indication that she was just as into it as he was. He liked when sweat slicked her body and he had to dry his hands on the blankets around them to hold onto her.
He liked the constant proof that she wanted him and enjoyed their time together.
He liked that, even though she finished before him, she didn't scold him for keeping going and getting what he wanted—what he needed—in the way that felt best to him, and she didn't hurry him.
And when they were done, she let him curl around her and hold her while he caught his breath and his pulse slowed. He kissed the side of her face as best he could and she hummed at him in satisfaction.
"It work for him?" Daryl asked.
"He's still for now," Carol said, her own breathing still a little uneven.
"Work for you?" Daryl asked.
She hummed in satisfaction.
"I'm going to sleep good tonight," she assured him.
"I'ma get a rag. Clean you up, OK?"
She hummed her approval and, as soon as he was willing to leave the bed for even a moment, Daryl headed for the little ensuite bathroom. When he returned, and knelt down on her side of the bed to run the rag between her legs and clean her up, she touched her fingertips gently to the side of his face and stroked the skin there.
"If your brother really wants to learn how to be a better man, Daryl," Carol offered, "then he's lucky, because he could look forever and he'd never find a better teacher in the whole world."
Daryl's whole body felt pleasantly warm. His knee-jerk instinct told him to reject the compliment. To deny it. But his heart told him to enjoy it, instead.
He decided to listen to his heart. He moved on his knees and lifted enough to kiss her.
He smiled at her and held her eyes when he pulled away from the kiss.
"He ain't quite as lucky as me," Daryl said, "since I already got in there an' got the best damn woman in the world. But—he oughta do alright."