Top Harry Drabble: Harry/Daryl(The Walking Dead)

Chapter Summary: In which Harry claims a watchtower at the prison for him and his hunter.

As soon as everyone more or less settled in the prison, Harry staked out one of the prison towers. He knew Maggie and Glenn had done the same so he didn't think anything of it, putting down a sleeping bag and a spare gun, just in case for Daryl. The walkers had been chased out of the prison yard and there were none outside the fence. But there would be more…

Daryl came up not too long afterward, the sun just dipping down below the horizon as he took the last step. The hunter had his crossbow hung on his shoulder just like always, a quiver of arrows on the other shoulder.

"Lori's asking after you," Daryl said, his voice rough from disuse.

"She can wait until morning," Harry remarked quietly, glancing to the prison down below them. If he closed his eyes, he could just picture flying in the sky above the prison on his firebolt. He had lost his broom to the fire at the farm all those months ago but perhaps if they were staying here for the time being… He might be able to build another broom, play around with a few spells to see if it would work. He sighed, studying Daryl enough that the other man noticed it.

Harry had joined Rick's group during the winter, had come to like Daryl's presence more than the others. Daryl wasn't exactly clean, hadn't been clean at all anytime during they had known each other. Harry wasn't clean himself but he didn't have blood anywhere on his skin. Daryl probably had a few bits of dried blood all over him but that didn't make him less attractive.

They had exchanged a few kisses in the last few months but nothing further. Not having the space, time or the mood to have sex had definitely put a damper on all other activities. And there was the privacy issue. Their group had stuck together during the winter and all slept together in the same room or car or storage shed.

Harry's heart raced at the thought, at finally being alone and having the time. Their people were safe enough for the night and Hershel was beginning to recover from having been bitten.

The sky had turned into a patchwork quilt of red, orange and blue as the sun fell and Harry reached out, drawing Daryl to him with a small tug.

"We're safe," Harry whispered, seeing Daryl's eyes widen at the notion. "Our group's safe."

Daryl went with Harry's tug, his heart skipping a beat as he took in the heat in Harry's green eyes. He shrugged off his crossbow, slipped the quiver full of arrows off, hearing them fall to the ground with a light thunk. Harry leaned his forehead against his, wrapping his arms around him before pulling back, pressing his lips to Daryl's. He groaned into the kiss as one of Harry's hands made its way to his neck, squeezing just a little to anchor.

Sweat dripped down his back as Harry nudged him backward, his back hitting the wall. Harry stripped out of his shirt and Daryl inhaled sharply, seeing the various scars on the other man. His most obvious one was the scar on his forehead but there were others and Harry had little to no fat on him, like Daryl.

Daryl stripped off his own shirt, his cheeks reddening as Harry's eyes narrowed, his lips darting out unselfconsciously. Harry was totally nonchalant about being naked himself, no worries over how people would see his body and Daryl…

"Hey, it's okay," Harry whispered, cupping his cheek and tipping his head up with a finger. "It's just me. No judgement here."

Harry dipped down to trail a line of kisses from the edge of Daryl's shoulder up to his mouth, little nipping kisses that brought out a strangled moan. Daryl's legs shuddered, trembled, and he was glad of the wall behind him, regardless of the fact that the wall only went up to his waist. His cock hardened and he gasped into another kiss, this one wet and hot.

"Harry… Fuck."

Harry grinned a little, heat in his eyes, as his left hand trailed down, tracing Daryl's own scars.

"You ever been with another man before?"

"Nah. The gay thing… Never been with a woman either."

Harry smiled a little wryly, his hand reaching up to thumb a nipple. Pleasure sparked throughout Daryl's body, his breath coming in shallow pants as Harry's other hand hovered over his waist. Harry raised an eyebrow, his eyes wide with arousal. Daryl nodded and nearly bucked up into his fingers as Harry's hand slid down, underneath his pants, and lightly traced over his hard cock.

His legs threatened to buckle, flares of pleasure sparking through his body and building at the base of his spine. Harry wrapped an arm around him, easing them both down to the sleeping bag on the floor of the watchtower. He settled on the floor, on his back and watched as Harry rolled down his pants and helped him take of his own. Harry's left hand circled his cock, sliding up and over it and smearing some pre-cum all over. His heart near stopped at the look Harry was giving him, eyes full of arousal and fondness. Sweat dripped down Harry's forehead too and his cock was hard, more so now than whenever they had stopped for a handjob over the past few months.

The moon rose around them as Harry slipped a pillow underneath Daryl's hips and dipped his hand down, reaching down to slip a finger inside him. He froze at the sensation, three quarters pleasure and just a little pain at the intrusion. Another kiss drew his mind off it as Harry opened him up, his fingers already wet by a whispered spell. One finger became two and pleasure again flowed through him as Harry's fingers hit a spot, the buzz of pleasure rocketing through his body.

His fingers curled and he moaned into it as Harry added one more finger, stretching him even further before withdrawing. He scrabbled and wrapped his arms around Harry, holding him close in case he…. Left.

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry murmured, his voice gone husky with pleasure and then positioned himself, thrusting in with one motion. Daryl let out a yell, pleasure speeding through him at the sensation. He felt full, wrapped up by Harry and his particular scent, one of ozone, the old scent of his magic. He forgot about the dead, about the prison, about the inmates.

The pleasure at the base of his spine grew as Harry withdrew a little bit and then thrust back in. They moved together, Harry rocking into him, and then it only takes one more thrust and one biting kiss at his neck to drive him over the edge. Daryl let out a strangled moan, his toes curling and his fingers scrabbling at the sleeping bag underneath him as pleasure rode through him. He only vaguely noticed Harry coming too, his vision shorting out as Harry stroked him through it.

Harry glanced down at Daryl as the man slowly woke up, his eyes blinking open. Harry had lowered himself down to the sleeping bag next to Daryl and gently tugged the other man into the crook of an arm, trailing his fingers over his scalp and picking out bits of blood and dirt.

"You enjoyed that, I hope?"

Daryl nodded, gone quiet again before opening his mouth. "Yeah."

Harry grinned tentatively and Daryl's lips twitched up into a smile.