AN: Here we are, another chapter here!
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
111
Carol's feet were barely on the floor and the door was just closed behind them before Daryl pushed her against the door and stole her breath with a kiss. It was rough, demanding—starving—and Carol appreciated it. She relaxed. She let go of everything for a moment, and she gave herself over to him.
Carol couldn't recall making out with someone for as long as she made out with Daryl, with her back against the door of their new home, but she enjoyed it. She could imagine that she would have been satisfied if they'd simply spent all night there, touching and kissing, teasing each other with the possibility of what was to come.
"I love you," Carol promised Daryl when she was able to draw enough air to say so. She flexed her fingers, massaging him and feeling him beneath her palms as her hands made their way around his body. The shirt he was wearing was rough cotton, and she pulled it free from his pants so that she could run her hands under it and feel his skin against her palms.
His hands were cupping and squeezing her breasts—a slightly painful sensation that made her throb between her legs in anticipation. She didn't tell him that she thought, maybe, he was squeezing too hard. She didn't care at the moment. The pain felt just as delicious as the tenderness behind some of his kisses.
"I love you," Daryl echoed, long enough after Carol's declaration that she might have thought he'd forgotten, if he hadn't been so obviously wrapped up in other thoughts. "Today…yesterday…tomorrow."
"Forever," Carol said, catching his face and smiling at him when he looked at her with eyes that were dark with lust and love.
His features lightened slightly.
"Forever," he said, visibly relaxing.
The fever passed to a welcomed gentleness, Carol kissed Daryl's lips lightly, and he responded.
"Is our bed ready?" She asked.
Daryl hummed in the affirmative.
"You know all of them was gettin' shit ready while you were changin'," Daryl said. He laughed quietly, relaxed now and gently kneading her arms with his fingertips. "I think Lydia thought of damn near everything."
Carol smiled at the girl's thoughtfulness. She was, in all actuality, practically a woman, but there was something about her that made her longing to still be a child palpable—maybe it was the fact that she'd never been one, really—and that made Carol reluctant to think of her as anything more than a girl until she was ready to be seen as such.
"I know that it's our wedding night," Carol said, "and…I'm certain that we're going to celebrate it just like we should. But—do you think it would be terrible to have Lydia here tonight?"
"You mean instead of spendin' the night with Alice and Mel?" Daryl asked. Carol nodded.
"It's just that, well, she's not going to be bothered by sounds or…or whatever else," Carol said. "We've been on the road this long. It's not like she doesn't know what's going on. And this is her home. It's our first night here. It just feels like…"
"Like she ought to spend our first night in our home with us," Daryl said. "As a family."
Carol smiled at Daryl's clear understanding of what she was trying to say.
"As a family," she agreed.
Daryl nodded.
"You're right. When they come with supper, we'll let her know that we want her sleepin' here. At home. Where the hell she oughta be."
Carol's heart drummed unexpectedly in her chest, and she gently rubbed Daryl's cheek.
"You know what?"
"What?" He asked.
"You're already a good father to Lydia," Carol said. "And—you're already a great husband to me."
His face ran red, but he looked genuinely pleased with the praise of his ability to handle a family well. He wrapped his arms around her, catching her around the waist, and lifted enough to take her just off her toes. She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck as he squeezed her.
"Come upstairs with me," he said. "Lemme show you what kinda husband I can really be."
"You don't have to ask me twice," Carol teased, kissing him as he lowered her back to her feet.
111
Daryl felt like he was buzzing—body and mind—as he leaned against the headboard of their new bed with Carol reclining against him, her body between his legs. He would have found the intimate closeness of her body impossible to ignore sexually, if he weren't already exhausted. His recovery from their first bout of love making had been fast, but he would need a longer recovery period now that they'd already gone for a second round.
It didn't matter. Being close to her like this, her skin practically sticking to his from drying sweat and, honestly, other bodily fluids, was almost as good as gearing up for another round together.
As Carol reclined against him, Daryl trailed his fingers over her body. At different moments, her skin sprouted a patch of goosebumps after his fingers passed.
"I wanna spend the rest of my life like this," Daryl said.
"I think we'll have to get up eventually," Carol teased. She snorted, trying to stifle her amusement over her own joke. Daryl laughed too. "I'm going to have to pee soon, and I'm getting kind of hungry."
"I know you are," Daryl said. "I'm down there eatin' your pussy and it sounds like you're smuggling a Wookie in your gut. Every couple of minutes Chewbacca was cryin' for somethin' to eat."
Carol laughed and half-turned, rolling into Daryl. He tightened his hold on her and hugged her against him.
"You're an asshole," she said. "I can't help I'm getting hungry." She sighed and sunk into him again. "You make me happy," she said, the statement clearly unrelated to her stomach's desire for something more than the breakfast that was long gone by now.
"I couldn't be any damn happier if I tried," Daryl mused. Carol hummed at him and brushed her face against him like a cat. She was feeling very affectionate toward him, and he wanted to drink up that affection—every bit of it—but she was also feeling playful. He could hear the teasing tone even in her hum, and he welcomed that, too, smiling before he even knew what she might say or do.
"All this over some sex?" She teased. "If I'd've known you wanted what…a partial blow job that badly, I would've offered you one days ago."
"Asshole," Daryl said, laughing and moving his hands to her shoulders to knead her muscles. She sat up to give him access to her shoulders and back. He hated the sudden distance between them, but her approving moans made him want to give her the best massage that his fingers could muster. "You know I don't even really like blow jobs."
"I didn't hear you complaining," Carol teased. "Oh—shit…right there…"
"I heard that a couple times today," Daryl teased.
"If you're not too worn out," Carol challenged, "you might hear it a couple more before we call it a night."
"Don't make promises you don't intend to keep," Daryl responded.
"Well—we'll just have to see which one of us cries uncle first, won't we?" Carol said, turning to smirk at him. She wrinkled her nose at him when she smiled, and then she slipped out of the bed to head for the bucket that Lydia had already kindly tucked in the bathroom for them to use when they needed it.
111
Daryl noticed that Lydia eased into the house much like an animal being introduced to a new environment. In fact, she was a bit more cautious than an animal, since Dog had let himself in and had gone directly to the living room to help himself to the couch. Lydia had been in the house before. She'd been the one to help prepare it for their honeymoon—as much as really had to be done, at least. But this was the first time that she was being brought into a house and being told that it was her home—her actual home—and that she was good here, and welcome to simply rest.
She had eaten with Alice and Melodye. She'd come with them to deliver a covered cast-iron pot of stew, some heavy and dense biscuits that they'd made following Carol's recipe, and a pot of tea that Muh sent to bless the happy couple on their wedding night.
When they'd let her know that they wanted her there for her first night, she'd tried to turn them down but, at their insistence, she'd gone back for her things.
She had, very obviously, given them enough time to leisurely consume and begin to digest their meal before she'd returned and, almost apologetically, brought everything inside that she didn't intend to leave in the wagon for the night.
"Have you—you know—done what you're supposed to do?" Lydia asked, as they ushered her up the stairs to choose her room. "To be married? I don't want to stop your honeymoon."
Carol's hand rested affectionately on Lydia's shoulder.
"If it makes you feel better," she said, "you haven't stopped our honeymoon. No more than you've stopped anything else. We're taking a break."
Daryl's whole body felt hot. Still, it wasn't like Lydia was innocent and unaware of what they did together. There was no such thing as privacy in their lives anymore and, really, such things didn't seem to matter all that much. Besides, Lydia did look more than a little relieved at the thought that the two of them had already been having sex and, furthermore, would be returning to the activity when she was settled into her room for the night.
"I can have either room?" Lydia asked, exploring the upstairs.
"Whatever you want," Carol assured her. "This is your home."
She stopped a long moment at the room that, without question, had belonged to a young girl. There were stuffed animals and dolls, among other evidence, that spoke about the room's once young occupant. Daryl noticed Lydia's lingering there for a while before she continued on to the other room—either a guest room or the room of a much older child—and stepped inside it, claiming it as her own.
Daryl followed her inside and put down the few things he'd carried for her. Carol stood in the doorway.
"You're sure you want this one?" Carol asked.
Lydia looked around. She shrugged her shoulders.
"It's a nice room," she said.
"Of course, it is," Carol agreed. "I'm just asking if it's your room."
Lydia considered it again and finally nodded.
"It will be," she said. She smiled and hugged the backpack that she hadn't put down yet—the bag where she stored her few most precious possessions. "My room in our house."
"You got that right," Daryl assured her, recognizing how important this moment was to her. "You need anything?"
Lydia shook her head.
"I put buckets in all the bathrooms," she said.
"And there's water downstairs," Daryl said. "Food. You get whatever you want. Even if we're not up or around or whatever. Same as always, you can have whatever you want."
Lydia smiled softly and nodded.
"You'll be in your room?" She asked.
They both nodded.
"If you need us," Carol said, "then you let us know, OK? Don't worry about disturbing us."
"I won't disturb you," Lydia said. "Not tonight."
"It doesn't matter, Sweetheart," Carol offered again. "If you need us, we're in our room."
Lydia nodded and Carol held up her hand in the universal sign that said that Lydia should wait. Lydia did wait, and Daryl did too. He wasn't sure what she was doing when she disappeared, but he understood the moment she returned.
Carol brought in the brown teddy bear from the other bedroom and offered it out to Lydia.
Daryl didn't miss that Lydia looked longingly at it for a second before she purposefully furrowed her brow, shook her head, and tried to push away Carol's offer. Carol simply pushed it back.
"To keep you company," Carol said. "And welcome you home."
"They're for children," Lydia countered.
"That's alright, too," Carol assured her. "Besides—we all like someone to snuggle at night. I promise you I'm not going to be sleeping alone tonight."
As a finish to her statement, Carol wrapped an arm sideways around Daryl and hugged him quickly to her body. His face grew warm again, but he hugged her back and kissed the side of her head. Her hair—cut short like it had been back at the prison, when she'd let it have only a couple of inches of length—went in a thousand different directions, especially after their recent activities together, and it tickled his nose.
Rather than looking horrified, Lydia looked pleased with the show of affection and, tossing her bag on her bed, she accepted the bear that had been offered out to her and hugged it against her chest. She gave both of them a soft smile.
"You ought to go…you know…be married," she said.
Daryl laughed, amused by the way she'd said it and her choice of words.
"Don't you worry, we're doin' that shit from today on out. Forever."