Prompt – 'Hotter than July'
Pairing – Rick/Daryl
I'm thinking this is set during S3, around episode 11, so just after Daryl returns to Rick.
Michonne is watching over Merle 'cause we all know he's trouble!
This is more about what the guys are thinking/feeling than anything else really, though there is interaction between them. Blame all the Leedus/Rickyl feels from their little Asia trip that's going on at the moment!
Virtual high-five for anyone who spots the little quote Norman recently gave about Rick/Daryl :3
Georgia was sweltering now that the winter had passed, with the heat pushing the mercury up to 90oF. Inside the prison it was cool, the concrete walls and narrow windows keeping the blistering sun out, but step out into the yard and it was another story entirely. The heat, though welcome after the harsh winter as it provided plenty of opportunity for the vegetable garden to flourish so long as Hershel and Rick kept it irrigated properly, did mean that the Walkers were decomposing at a faster rate, their torn and bloody flesh heating up and cooking, roasting them as the wandered aimlessly around the Georgia countryside. The stench of decomposing flesh had always been present, but it was during the heat wave that it became far more noticeable, clinging to people's clothes and turning their stomachs.
Daryl wiped the sweat from his brow with the red handkerchief he kept in his back pocket, not caring that the scrap of fabric was covered in motor oil from his hands and bike, or remnants of his blood from the times he'd had to wrap it around cuts and scrapes to stop the blood flow. Free flowing blood was like a dinner bell to the undead. Tucking the scrap of fabric back into his pocket he turned his head to the right, noting the way Rick was using the sleeve of his grubby shirt to mop at his own brow. They'd been out hunting all day and had found nothing of any use to them. The few animals they'd managed to spot and aim for consisted of squirrels and the odd bird, but they had soon ran off when they'd heard Rick's steps. The sheriff wasn't as quiet as he used to be when hunting. Daryl had taught Rick how to hunt over the winter months, figuring that if he could grasp it when there was little to be had, then when there was an abundance of animals he'd be fine. It was Daryl's way of ensuring that if anything ever happened to him their little group would still be able to find food.
Rick hadn't been as focused since Lori's death, not that Daryl could blame him. He didn't know what it was like to have a wife, let alone lose her, so he couldn't understand completely, but he did know what it was like to love someone. He'd loved Merle after all, even if his big brother had been a pig-ignorant shithead at times. Rick's distraction meant that his footsteps weren't as light, he wasn't as aware of his surroundings as he once had been. Glenn had thought it was foolish of Daryl to take Rick out of the relative safety of the prison, but the hunter knew the sheriff was in need of a change of scenery, he needed to be away from the constant reminder of Lori. Being trapped within four walls, or four fences, wasn't going to do the sheriff any good. Merle had simply scoffed, raising an eyebrow at his baby brother and the way he pandered to 'Officer Friendly.' Daryl had been so close to telling his brother to shove his disapproving looks up his ass and stop being a dick, but the tension in the prison was already high. Glenn wasn't a fan of having the man who had handed Maggie to the Governor for her 'interrogation' within the vicinity.
Hershel had been unsure too about Rick venturing out, but after a brief conversation with their sheriff, who was still struggling to hold conversation with anyone other than his right-hand man for longer than three minutes, he deemed that Rick needed to get out, if only to see something else, feel something else. With Hershel's blessing Daryl and Rick had ventured out, taking the Hyundai just in case something happened to either of them. Daryl's bike would have made too much noise and attracted too many Walkers, and that wasn't viable given Rick's current state.
Rick and Daryl wandered through the woods, taking the time to simply enjoy their surroundings. There was no way they were going to be able to find anything to eat, not with Rick's heavy footsteps alerting all the animals in the vicinity that they were there, but Daryl could tell that the walk was doing the sheriff some good, clearing his head a little. Reaching to the hip-flask of water Beth had handed him as they were leaving, Daryl offered it to his companion first, wanting to take care of Rick before he took care of himself.
Taking care of Rick was no longer something Daryl questioned. At first he had wondered why he cared so much for the man who had caused him to be parted from his brother, the man who had suddenly appeared in their little group and automatically assumed the role of leader. It was only during their stay at the farm when he came to realise that Rick was shouldering the burdens of everyone else while no one was shouldering his. Daryl didn't have anything to worry about – at the time he had presumed his brother dead and he could hunt for himself, keep himself safe from Walkers. It had started when Rick had sat at his bedside after Andrea had pulled the fucking trigger and narrowly missed his brain by centimetres. Rick had stayed with him, chatted with him, checked up on him, and he had seemed genuinely concerned for Daryl's wellbeing. That was a new fucking experience for the redneck.
The moment it all changed though, when Daryl had realised that Rick needed someone to be there and support him regardless of his decisions, had been when Dale had been attacked, lying there on the grass, guts spread over his torso. Shane had just stood there like a fucking fool, letting Rick do all the dirty work once again. That wasn't what a partner did. Partners were supposed to help one another, lift some of the weight from one another. Daryl had realised then that Shane was never going to carry any of the burdens Rick shouldered ever again, and that Rick needed someone, anyone. Daryl had looked at their little group, noted how the women were crying, how young Carl didn't need to see such brutality. There was no one left to help Rick but Daryl, and the hunter had reached out for Rick's gun before he could stop himself, working purely on instinct. Rick had needed him, and they had survived this far thanks to their sheriff. Since then it had been habit for Daryl to shadow Rick, to help him whenever he could, be the Robin to his Batman.
Rick took the offered hip-flask, raising it to his dry lips to take a sip before he offered it back to Daryl. The man had hardly taken anything and the last thing Daryl wanted was for him to dehydrate, especially in the blistering heat. "Take more, got plenty." He reassured the sheriff, knowing that it would take some coaxing for Rick to drink more. He'd been constantly sacrificing his food and drink for Lori and Carl, looking after them but not himself. Daryl had taken to hunting for an extra squirrel or two, finding some clean water whenever he could, because he knew he would end up having to tend to a hungry, thirsty Rick. The man would never voice his hunger or thirst, but Daryl knew.
Lifting his hand, Daryl gestured with two fingers for them to head to their left. They'd kept relatively close to the prison, not wanting to venture too far, but this was still an unexplored piece of forest for them. Rick didn't need telling twice and followed Daryl's direction, trusting the man and his instincts entirely. The pair walked for a few minutes in silence, Rick continuing to take small sips from the hip-flask of water. Though he wasn't drinking as much as Daryl wanted him to it was still a step in the right direction.
The woodland started to thin out and the two men stumbled out into a small clearing, Yellow Jacket River running right alongside it. The trees, the branches and leaves dappling the light, tempting the two men, covered the patch of river before them. "I bet the water is nice and cool." Rick murmured under his breath, his voice coarse with his first words since the pair had left the prison fences. They were both men of little words anyway; able to communicate with each other simply through looks, gestures, and small nods.
Daryl turned to look at the man at his side, taking in his sweaty, grubby appearance. His beard was a little thicker, his hair longer, brushing his shoulders and swept back off his face. Bags framed the area under his cobalt blue eyes and he'd lost a lot of weight thanks to his sparse eating habits. His lips were pale, almost chapped from the constant nervous licking he did. He was a mess, but Daryl still found him attractive.
The first time he'd thought of Rick as attractive he'd been angry at himself, confused as to his sudden bombardment of foreign feelings, and initially he'd been scared of what Merle would think. His brother had noticed straight away that he and Rick were close, even mentioning it when they'd tried to strike out on their own in the woods, and it wouldn't be too long before his brother worked out that Daryl harboured some affection for the scruffy sheriff. It took seeing Rick pinned to the fence by two Walkers as more approached him that made Daryl realise that his brothers' opinion meant sweet fuck all. It didn't matter that Daryl cared for Rick; it was none of his brothers business. Daryl could care for whoever he wanted to, didn't need Merles' permission.
"Go cool off, I got this." Daryl instructed, lifting his crossbow a little. Rick turned to look at the hunter, a strange emotion flickering across his features before he gave a slight smile, bobbing his head in his usual way of thanks. Daryl could tell the man was tired, in need of some way to cool down. The river would give them some peace so long as no Walkers came near them, but Daryl was more than prepared to take down a whole army so long as Rick would get to enjoy even just a minute of peace and happiness.
Daryl realised his mistake as they approached the water, Rick removing pieces of clothing as he was going until he was left in nothing but his underwear, dropping the rest of his clothes on the river bank before paddling into the cool water. Daryl had to suppress his groan at the sight of the sheriff stripped down. It was the first time he'd seen the man sans the vast majority of his clothing. Turning back to face the woodland they had come from, Daryl kept an eye on the trees, hearing Rick paddling in the water behind him. He had to turn around, had to put his back to the man or else he'd end up joining him, or worse. Daryl thanked God for the fact his jeans were now a few sizes too big, and considerably baggier than before, thanks to his own weight loss over the winter.
It wasn't fair, in Daryl's opinion, that Rick still managed to look good given his current state. Daryl had tried to not think about Rick, tried to fill his thoughts with other people when he was alone at night, worked up from the stress of the day. He'd thought of Carol, sweet and tender, someone who understood what it was like to be at the mercy of a bully, someone who'd broken away from that sort of abuse too. Try as he might though, Daryl had found it hard to think of Carol as anything other than a good friend, almost like a little sister. He felt a need to protect her, to shelter her from any more harm in the world. He couldn't think of her as anything more, no matter how hard he tried to. Maggie had Glenn, and Beth was a little too young, plus he was sure Carl would try and kick his ass if he stole Beth from him. Tough kid. Michonne, she was a wild card, and though Daryl admired her for her skill with her katana he guessed she wasn't the sort of woman who ultimately would enjoy a relationship, something more than simple relief fucking. That left Rick, and Daryl had never liked men before, he was adamant he still didn't. It was just Rick. Something about their troubled leader called out to him and he knew he would be a fool to ignore it.
Pulling on his handkerchief, Daryl mopped at his brow again, huffing at the heat, both due to the temperature and to the man paddling a short distance behind him. "You should get in here, the water is lovely." He heard Rick invite him over from behind, the sheriff keeping his tone low to stop any passing Walkers hearing them, knowing that Daryl's sharp hearing would pick up on his words anyway. Daryl tried his hardest to ignore Rick, lifting his crossbow a little higher and looking down the scope, as if he hadn't heard him. "Please, Daryl." Rick's voice broke a little, a sigh slipping from his lips, chasing his words.
Rick's tone broke down Daryl's resolve and he screwed his eyes shut, trying not to sigh in defeat. He didn't want Rick to read his sigh as him being annoyed with their leader. It frightened Daryl how easily he would give in to Rick. "Alrigh'." Daryl conceded, checking their surroundings once more before he turned around. A low groan slipped through his lips before he could catch it at the sight of Rick in the water. The water was relatively still, wrapping around the older mans narrow waist as he stood, beads of water rolling down his throat and broad chest, returning to the river from Rick's momentary dunking. His dark hair was plastered back against his head, the muck that caked him long washed away. He looked better for a wash, but he would look even more so with a bit of food in him and a few hours sleep. Daryl would make sure he got both of those things when they returned to the prison, the Governor be damned.
Daryl felt that familiar stirring, felt himself enjoying the sight of Rick in the water a little too much, and cursed himself inwardly, taking the few steps to the riverbank. Placing his crossbow down on the dirt he toed off his boots, socks following, then his leather vest. His shirt came next, landing on the rest of his clothes. Daryl had no problem letting the other man see his marked back, Rick had probably seen it all before when he'd been tending to him after Andrea's bullet, not to mention when he'd spent his years on the force. It was his pants that Daryl was concerned about. The slight tenting was not visible thanks to the layers of baggy fabric, but the moment they were removed Daryl's not so little secret would be exposed. Rick, assuming the younger man was simply shy, moved to float on his back, looking up at the sky. Daryl was grateful for Rick's action, touched by how quick he'd been to understand and act. Undoing his belt, on which he'd had to make two new holes over the winter, Daryl let them hit the floor. Kicking them off he took three strides into the water, looking back over his shoulder at his crossbow. It was easily within reach so long as he didn't swim too far out.
The water was blissful, cool, and refreshing against Daryl's heated skin, and he could understand now why Rick had asked him to join in. Rick ended his floating session, back to standing in the water, though he crouched low enough for the liquid to lap over his shoulders. Daryl mimicked his actions, enjoying the sensation of the cold water on his warm flesh. Taking a deep breath Daryl dunked his head under the water, rising back up seconds later, his wispy hair now plastered to his face.
Rick's low laughter captured Daryl's attention as he opened his eyes, squinting through the segments of his wet hair at the man who made such a noise. Rick hadn't laughed since Lori had passed, so the sound was a welcome one. "Ya look like a drowned kitty." The sheriff teased, causing Daryl to scowl. He wasn't a kitten, not in any sense of the word.
Daryl didn't have time to back away from the older man as he approached, wading over. One of Rick's large hands came up, sweeping Daryl's wet hair from his face. "Nah, not a kitty." Rick teased, offering a smile to his friend. Rick was grateful for everything Daryl had done for him and their family, and he had no doubt in his mind that if it weren't for his hunter he'd be dead, joining Lori in the safe place she'd claimed to be in. The place Lori offered may have been safe but Rick didn't think it was worth dying to get there; after all, he was just as safe with Daryl. The man had his back.
Rick took a moment to look long and hard at his friend, his right-hand. Daryl's earlier scowl had softened, a faint blush colouring his cheeks, spreading down his throat and over his broad shoulders, down his thick chest and over the top of his muscular arms. Rick couldn't deny that the man was hot, a complete sin, and yet he was totally unaware of how attractive he was, shrugging off compliments and fluttering eyelashes. It didn't surprise Rick that Daryl had an aversion to compliments, not with the little he knew of the younger mans past.
Under his gruff demeanour Daryl was a good man, who was completely loyal to those he deemed worthy. He'd come back to Rick and though he had been in the midst of a Walker attack, Rick hadn't been able to stop himself from being relieved at the other mans presence, thankful to have his companion back. His visions of Lori had stopped becoming so frequent when Daryl was by his side, but Lori had come back with a vengeance when Daryl had left, taunting him and reminding him that all those he held dear to him had left him. Rick had tried to fix things with Lori, tried to include her in decisions, but it had been difficult to look at her after Shane's death, the way her belly swelled with a child that might not even be his. Rick had told Shane the child was his regardless, but there were those moments during Lori's pregnancy that Rick had questioned how much he would love the child that would be born, knowing they may not be his. The moment he'd held Judith in his arms though he knew it would be okay, that he would love that little girl because she was part of Lori, even if she held no part of him.
Daryl's heavy hand on his shoulder jolted Rick out of his thoughts. "Where'd ya go, Rick? Come back t' me." Daryl's rough voice was like a balm to Rick's Lori-shaped wounds. Rick could admit that at first he hadn't cared much for the man, finding his anger and mood swings irritating, his hatred poisonous to their group. Daryl had changed though, softened a little around the edges, accepted that he now had a family who valued him and cared for him. It was when Andrea had fired that damn gun that Rick had realised that he cared for his hunter. Watching Daryl go down had been terrifying, and if it hadn't been for the fact that Daryl had still been conscious and in need of help then Rick would have yelled and screamed at Andrea for her stupidity, probably not even caring if he attracted a few Walkers in the process.
"'m sorry, got lost in my own thoughts again." Rick apologized with a snort, shaking his head, forgetting that his hand still rested on Daryl's cheek from where he'd brushed the hunters hair from his face.
"S'alright, you're allowed t' get lost in thought every now an' then, but ya need to get outta ya head right now Rick, we got major shit goin' down back at the prison." Daryl tried to explain gently, trying to make their leader see that his thoughts were causing problems rather than fixing them, and that they had an immediate danger that needed to be taken care of. Rick wasn't paying attention in the slightest though, too wrapped up in watching the way Daryl's thin lips moved with each word.
It was an instinctual movement, pulling Daryl closer using the hand on his cheek, moving it to the back of the mans neck so he could pull him in. If there was one way for Rick to get out of his own head and shut Daryl up all at once it was this. Rick's lips met Daryl's and the sheriff noted instantaneously how different they were to Lori's, who had always used lip balm since they had first gotten together in high school. Her lips had always been as soft as a baby's bottom, but Daryl's rough lips were a pleasant surprise to the older man, a surprise he rather enjoyed.
With Rick's eyes being closed he didn't see the way Daryl's eyes widened in surprise, but he felt the younger mans nails dig into his shoulder, felt the way in which his lips refused to move beneath his own. Biting back the sting of rejection Rick pulled away, putting as much distance between them as he could, which proved difficult with Daryl's iron grip on his shoulder. It wasn't that Daryl hadn't enjoyed having Rick kiss him, he'd enjoyed it immensely, but he'd been surprised the other man had kissed him, had given such show of affection, especially when Daryl had no idea how Rick felt, or even if he enjoyed male company as much as he did female company. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't a done-"
Daryl cut off Rick's apology, fusing his lips back with the older mans in a bid to silence him, to make him understand that he wasn't being rejected, but that the hunter had merely been surprised by Rick's forwardness. Hand returning to the back of Daryl's neck, Rick pulled him closer until the pair of them were pressed together, chest-to-chest, his other hand finding purchase on the mans clothed hip. Daryl's hands wandered, one sliding to the middle of Rick's back to keep him in place, while the other crept into his long hair, fingers tangling in the chocolate brown locks he found there.
Their lips moved cautiously, softly against one another's, exploring but not daring to push things too far. It was much more than Daryl had ever hoped to get from the older man, and though a mere kiss wouldn't solve the problem in his pants, at which he blushed realising the older man could more than likely feel the evidence of his affections towards Daryl against his thigh, Daryl knew Rick was still hurting. As if reading the hunters mind Rick pulled back, his breathing heavy and laboured, his tongue peeking out to lick at his lips, to taste Daryl there. Cobalt blue eyes met pale blue ones, searching for an answer to a question Daryl didn't know. Pitching forward, Rick came to rest his forehead against Daryl's collarbone, more pronounced from the lack of food over the winter months.
They were silent for a moment, Daryl's hand on Rick's back drawing slow, lazy circles in a reassuring gesture. He was sure Merle would have called him a pussy for giving such reassurance to the sheriff, but if it soothed Rick then he didn't care what Merle would think. Daryl kept his ears on the woodland, pleased nothing had interrupted them so far. "You're not a rebound" Rick's words were soft, murmured against damp skin, his lips kissing Daryl's collarbone as he spoke.
Daryl frowned lightly. He hadn't even thought of himself as a rebound, but heck, he would happily be one for Rick if he just needed someone to fuck until he was out of his depressing funk. He was use to being used anyway, but at least this time he would get some pleasure out of it. "I won't do that to ya. I care for ya too much." Rick confessed, turning his head a little so his nose rested against Daryl's throat.
Unsure where the other man was taking this Daryl moved his hand that had been knotted in Rick's hair to his waist, giving the firm flesh there a reassuring squeeze, assurance he wasn't going to run. "What're ya sayin'?"
Rick's head tipped back, his lips connecting with the underside of Daryl's jaw in a feather-light kiss for the briefest of moments. "I need t' sort my head out, deal with some stuff." He elaborated, hands moving to wrap around Daryl's tapered waist. It was oddly intimate, even though they were doing nothing more than exchanging a long hug and some chaste kisses. The water had cooled them down considerably and was helping Daryl rid himself of his problem, but soon he would need to get them out of the water and into the sunshine to dry off before they could put their clothes back on. They would need to bathe again back at the prison, the dirt from their clothes would transfer back onto their skin by the time they made it home. "Don't think I'm abandonin' ya if I get lost in my head a lil', or if I get a lil' distant. I'm gonna come back to ya, just like ya came back to me." Daryl ached hearing how much his brief parting from Rick had hurt the man. He'd hated having to chose between Merle and Rick, and most of him wanted to stay with Rick, even if that did make him a bad brother, but his damn loyalty to Merle with the fact they shared DNA had swayed it in his idiot brothers favour. He'd known the moment they'd walked away, when he'd heard the angry, strong slam of the trunk of the Hyundai, that Rick was pissed. Daryl felt a little hope that he was forgiven as he had returned, and just in time too.
Rick didn't hold it against Daryl for choosing Merle over the rest of their group, choosing Merle over him. He regretted forcing the man to choose though, especially at the side of the damn road. Rick had been angry at the world for dealing them this hand all the way home, even going so far as to shout at Glenn and Maggie. He still owed them an apology for it, now that he remembered. If someone had told him to choose between the group at the prison or Carl he would automatically side with his boy. Family bonds were unbreakable, even more so if they were forged by blood. Rick's main concern at the moment though was for Daryl and his feelings. He knew the hunter had them but he liked to hide them from the world, play the bad, tough guy approach. Rick was so in tune with Daryl though that the man was like an open book to him most of the time. He didn't want the other man hurting, feeling unwanted and uncared for. He'd had enough of that from his shitty family pre-apocalypse.
Knowing they would have to leave the river very soon and return to the prison, back into the drama of the Governor, Daryl pulled Rick closer, tightening his hold on the older man. "Ya know I'd always come back to ya, Rick. 'M more than happy to wait for ya. Lean on me if ya need, ya don't gotta do all the heavy liftin' yourself."
Another soft kiss landed on Daryl's throat and he shuddered at the contact, surprised by how much Rick's kiss had affected him when placed in that one particular spot. Rick made a mental note of how Daryl's body had reacted to his kiss, smiling against Daryl's suitably cool skin. The redneck would never know just how grateful Rick was for all of his support, for all the times he'd helped him and saved him, ensured he was fed and watered. None of it went unnoticed by the sheriff, and he hoped that once the threat of the Governor had been dealt with, and his head was screwed on correctly, he could show Daryl just how grateful he truly was. Until then though all he could offer the man holding him was his words and kisses. Rick prayed that was good enough to tide him over.
"Thank you, Daryl. Thank you."