A/N Had to change the rating for this fic because of this chapter. So, if you're not here for smut (absolutely no judgment if it's not your thing, I'm definitely not used to writing it), then skip Naomi's part, please.
Naomi
Mia skipped up the stairs ahead of me, all long limbs and elbows. She'd gone through a real growth spurt lately, caught somewhere between girl and teenager. My whole life, she'd grown too fast. Always felt I was just getting used to her at one stage before she was off to the next. One day she was a baby, entirely dependent on us for everything, and then I blinked, and she was sitting up and saying her first word. Blinked again, and she was off to school. Another blink, and she told me that I didn't need to hold her hand when we crossed the street anymore; she could do it by herself thank you very much. Another blink, and the world ended, and she was brave enough to keep running, keep living.
Now here she was, older than she should be in many ways because of the things she'd seen in this violent world, but still a goofy and awkward thirteen-year-old most of the time. She was fighting wars and still finding time to make up a secret language that only she and Perla knew.
"Bryce!" she yelled the moment she got in the door. I tried to remind her to use her indoor voice, but her excitement was too much to hold in. Bryce and Aaron were sitting around a makeshift table, built from the remnants of something wooden that had been blown out of recognition by the Savior's attack. The wood was twisted and charred, and I couldn't help but think that some fancy-ass interior designer would've paid megabucks for it back in the Before Times.
"Oh, hey, Mia," Bryce said, only mildly alarmed by the frantic energy she was barrelling in with.
"Guess what!" she beamed at him.
'Act surprised,' I mouthed behind her back.
"What?"
"When we're finished here, we're all going to come and live with you in the Kingdom!"
"All?" Bryce repeated, doing a fantastic job of pretending he hadn't heard this news from me while I mulled over how to ask Daryl and stressed about whether he'd say yes or not. Bryce had been right; of course, Daryl hadn't even hesitated when I'd told him. I hoped Bryce wouldn't be too smug about being right, but he was too preoccupied playing dumb for Mia for now. "That's a lot of people. I'm not sure I have enough couch space back at the Kingdom for all of Alexandria."
"No," Mia rolled her eyes. "Me, Naomi, and Daryl."
"Oh! That's great!" Bryce said with a genuine smile, then he glanced up at me. "Daryl, too, huh?"
I just nodded.
"Well, where else is he gonna go?" Mia said.
"Where else, indeed?" Aaron grinned at me while Bryce slightly raised his right eyebrow in a way that said I told you so. I glared at them both.
"And maybe Perla will come, too…" Mia said, with the same tone in her voice that she used to use when she dropped not-so-subtle hints that she wanted one of her friends to come for a slumber party.
"That's up to her and Lucas," I said, glad that decision had absolutely nothing to do with me so that if they didn't end up joining us, I wouldn't be the bad guy. Mia nodded, but I saw a resolute little twinkle in her eye that I knew I'd have to warn Lucas about. Once Mia gets an idea in her head, she can be real stubborn about letting it go. No idea where she gets it from.
"The Kingdom has horses, doesn't it?" Mia asked.
"Sure does," Bryce said.
"Will you teach me how to ride one?" Mia asked.
It took me a second to realize she was looking at me and not Bryce. "What makes you think I know how to ride one?"
"Didn't you and Daryl do all this kind of… wild stuff?" she asked. "When you were little? Hunting and fishing, and y'know… outdoor stuff."
"Yeah, but we didn't have horses," I said. "You know how expensive those are? Or,..used to be. I guess they're free now so long as you find it and tame it."
"I know how to ride," Bryce said. "I can teach both of you."
"You learn at the Kingdom?" I asked.
"Nah, I knew before. I used to do dressage," he tried to say it all casual, like that was a regular thing to say.
"You did what?" I said.
"What's dressage?" Mia asked.
"It's the one where you make the horse do a little dance, right?"
Bryce looked at me like I'd said something unforgivable. This was the one time in our friendship it felt like he'd seen me for the uncouth street urchin I'd always been. He said, kind of snooty, "It is a sport, y'know."
"Yeah, for the horse maybe," I said, then I shook my head a little. I thought I knew Bryce pretty well, but this had totally blindsided me. Maybe he'd grown up fancier than I thought. "Never knew you had a horse!"
"I didn't. I had a share of a horse," Bryce said. "With a few other kids. It was kept at a stable, and we all mucked in, but I got to use it for competitions."
"Dressage competitions?" I asked, just to make him admit it again.
"Yes," I could see him trying to restrain his eye roll.
"Can't believe you never told me this before."
"You never asked!"
"Not the sorta thing I'm in the habit of asking," I said, wondering if my first question to any and every new person I met from here on out should be 'Nice to meet you, have you ever done dressage?'. As good an icebreaker as any, really.
"Well," Aaron placed his palms flat on the table and stood up, "I have to go and take Gracie to see Dr. Carson."
"She okay?" I asked.
"You remember she had that terrible cough last week?" Aaron said, forehead creasing with worry.
"Oh, yeah," I said, although, by all accounts, she'd coughed about twice, and Aaron had spent four days convincing himself she had tuberculosis, and he'd failed as a father. Nothing anyone could say would convince him otherwise, not even Dr. Carson. It was as sweet as it was infuriating. "Ain't got worse, has it?"
"No," he said. "I think it's cleared up. It's just a check-up, to be sure."
"Right," I nodded, knowing full well that Aaron had been the one to schedule this appointment and not Dr. Carson.
"I'm at a loose end. Do you want some company?" Bryce asked. The offer made me pause, not because Bryce was making it. He's always been thoughtful in that way, and never hesitated to put himself out to help others. But, there was a note in his voice when he asked, like some small part of him would be crushed if Aaron said no.
Oh my God.
The boy has a crush.
I got butterflies on his behalf and found myself staring intently at Aaron for his reaction. He hesitated, and then something in his face softened. "Sure. That sounds nice. I'll go get her."
I waited until Aaron left the room before I looked at Mia and said, "Hey, why don't you go and see if Aaron needs any help with Gracie."
"Okay," she said, with a hint of teenage annoyance at being told what to do, but she loved Gracie so didn't put up a fuss. The second she was gone, I turned to Bryce, who was doing his damndest not to look at me.
"So," I said. "How long has that been going on?"
"Nothing's going on," he said, a flash of annoyance in his eyes.
"But you like him, right?"
"How come it took you three seconds to work that out but three hundred years to work out your own crush on Daryl?"
"So you do like him," I said triumphantly, ignoring his dig at me.
"He's cute," Bryce admitted. Something heavy hung over it. "But… you know."
He shrugged one shoulder and let the rest of his sentence hang in the air. Eric. Aaron had only just lost him. There was no way he'd be anywhere near ready for anything new.
"Yeah," I said.
"And it's not just that," he said, eyes fixed on the table but not seeing it. "Andy and I. We made vows. It feels...wrong to even think about someone else that way. Even though I know that he's gone."
I didn't know what to say. I put a hand on Bryce's shoulder, and he looked up at me. His eyes were real sad. The kind of pain buried so deep you can never really dig it out. I bent down and hugged him, arms around his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Bryce," I said. I tried to think about what it might feel like to lose Daryl and find someone else, how confusing that might be, and what I'd want someone to say to me in that situation. But I couldn't get past the thought of losing Daryl without the pain of it almost splitting me in two.
"It's fine," he said. "It doesn't have to be anything. I just… like his company. So I'm fine with being his friend if that's all it can ever be."
"Well, you have excellent taste in friends," I said quietly, straightening up as I heard footsteps on the stairs.
Mia bounded back into the room ahead of Aaron, who'd strapped Gracie to his chest with a makeshift baby carrier. He glanced at Bryce, "You good to go?"
"Yeah," Bryce stood up. "Back in a bit. Will you be here?"
"I'm not sure, I gotta-" I said.
"I won't," Mia piped up. This was news to me. "I said I'd help Carl babysit Judith while Rick and Michonne are busy. I should probably head over there now, actually."
"Will you be at Rick's place?" I asked. Mia had a good head on her shoulders, but I still liked to know there'd be other adults around if something kicked off. Rick's house was set up as a sort of hub throughout the day. Noah was there 24/7, pouring over the original plans for Alexandria and drawing up new ones.
"Yes," she said. "I think we'll mostly stick around there."
"Don't stray farther than that," I said. "Don't leave Alexandria. Be back at the house before dark."
"Okay," Mia was already heading toward the door.
"I mean it, Mia," I said. "If I hear you've set one foot outside these walls, you won't be leaving my sight again for the next twenty years."
"Yeah, I know. I love you too," Mia yelled over her shoulder as she pulled the door shut behind her.
"That girl's got a better social life than I do," I muttered, trying to make a joke to cover my worry. No matter how big Mia got, my fears about her would never shrink.
"That's how it should be," Aaron said. "It's been nice to see the kids relax around here. Feels like things are finally getting back to normal."
Bryce agreed with him, and I nodded in a way I hoped looked convincing. But Negan rose in my mind. I wasn't sure what 'normal' looked like after everything he'd put us through. In Alexandria, I could push him to the back of my mind, but I couldn't banish him completely. Inside the walls, building and repairing things with Daryl, I felt safe. But there was a lot of woodland surrounding us, a lot of places to hide.
Aaron and Bryce headed off to take Grace to see Doctor Carson, and it was the first time in a long time that I'd been anywhere quiet. But, silence was less comfortable than I remembered. Bryce and Aaron's grief weighed on me. Every time I thought about Eric or Andrew, I felt a pang of loss as strong as when I'd first heard about their deaths. Walking around Alexandria, I still sometimes caught myself expecting to see Eric at planning meetings.
But I knew that the way I felt was nothing compared to the pain Aaron and Bryce had to live with. Would always live with. I didn't know how either of them was still standing. I wanted to know what to say to them, how to help. But, I couldn't put myself in their shoes. Losing Daryl was so incomprehensible that my brain shut down any thoughts of it immediately.
I'd survive it because I had Mia to look after, but I would be forever changed.
I can't dwell on this.
Felt like I was sinking, and I had a meeting with the King set up later that day. I'd be way too early if I went now, but maybe deciphering what Ezekiel was saying would take my mind off things it was spiraling into. Perhaps I had enough time to find Daryl and help him with whatever he was up to. I probably had enough time to swing by Rick's house and chat to Noah, so I could check Mia was where she said she'd be.
Before I could move toward the door, it opened, and there was Daryl. Seeing him gave me such a rush. More than usual. That thought of losing him someday sparked something in me, and I'd started walking towards him before the door had shut behind him.
"Hey," he said. "Bumped into Aaron and Bryce, they said you'd be here and...look, I'm glad I caught you, I wanted t-"
I barely listened to him. Kissed him as soon as I got close enough, catching his lips while he was still mid-word. I knew I'd taken him by surprise because he grabbed me without his usual hesitation until I let him know it was okay. But it was more than okay. All I wanted was his hands on me and for us to be as close as possible. My back was up against the wall before he realized what he was doing and stopped kissing me back. He still held me where I was, pinned between him and the wall, looking at me a little dazed and out of breath.
"Hey," he said again like he'd forgotten he'd already greeted me.
"Hey," I couldn't stop smiling, the taste of him still tingling on my lips.
"What was that for?"
"I missed you," I said because it felt like the simplest way of wording it. Because saying, 'I've decided that when it's time for one of us to die, I demand to go first,' would only make his brow crease in that worried little frown. I'd seen too much of that lately. Every second he wasn't close, a part of me was looking for him. So now that he was here, I had no plans to let him go until I absolutely had to.
"I saw you this morning, weirdo," he said, but he was already pulling my hips closer to his again like he was getting ready for another kiss. "Woke up right next to ya."
"I know," I said, my hand on the back of his neck. "But do you hear that?"
I watched him pause for a moment and listen. "I don't hear shit."
"Exactly," I said. "When was the last time you didn't hear shit?"
Daryl didn't respond, but I could see the answer and its implications in a glimmer in his eye. I leaned in and kissed him again. I couldn't hold myself back, thought my kiss might come on too strong, but he met me where I was. His lips were hard on mine, his tongue hungry, eager for a taste of mine, and so familiar. I loved how familiar this felt.
When I reached to take his shirt off, he was already a beat ahead of me, pulling it up over his head. It hadn't even hit the floor before he took hold of the bottom of mine. I raised my hands above my head, ready for him to undress me. I hoped that would be permission enough that I wouldn't have to ask him to, but he still stopped.
"You can take it off," I told him.
"Naomi…" he paused, closed his eyes for a second, and exhaled slowly through his mouth. His breath moved the hair around my face.
"It's okay," I said, although I knew that wasn't why he was hesitating this time. "I want you to."
"This is crazy," he said, but he was already lifting it off.
"Maybe a little," I said. He kissed my neck, his warm hands brushing against my waist. My shirt fell next to his at the bottom of the stairs. The wall was cold on my back. Over his shoulder, I saw the unlocked front door that led directly to the outside and everyone else.
"You ain't thinking straight," he told me.
But his kisses weren't slowing down. His body pressed closer. The heat of his skin on mine. The hypocrisy of it made me smile, "And you are?"
"I'm trying, but...," he stopped and looked at me. Fingers under my chin tilted my face toward him. "Can't think of anything else when you're around. Can't stop thinking about you when you ain't here, either."
"Back at you," I said. Daryl leaned in for another kiss, but I stopped him. A flicker of disappointment in his eyes, and he started nodding like he was agreeing we should stop. But that wasn't what I was thinking at all. I glanced at the stairs right beside us and then back at him. "Upstairs?"
He nodded, took my hand, and we bolted up the stairs with an urgency like something was chasing us. I veered off into one of the rooms, Daryl's hand still clasped tightly in mine. He kicked the door shut behind him as I pulled him toward the mattress in the middle of the room. He was kissing me again, hands on either side of my face, and I heard the door slam so hard it shook the walls. Like he'd thought the harder he kicked it, the longer the outside world would take to get back in.
We sank down together, into the mattress and the silence and each other. This quiet was filled with deep kisses and gentle caresses. This quiet I could live in forever. Daryl's body over mine. My hands on his bare chest and back. I rolled us over until I was on top. I took a beat, just to look at him stretched out beneath me. Daryl's scarred, tattooed, perfect body. I kissed my way up from the waistband of his pants, up that deep V across his hips, over his stomach and muscular chest, until I reached his lips. There wasn't an inch of him I didn't want to taste. He was breathing hard. A deep moan escaped him as I took his hands and moved them to where the clasp of my bra joined at my back. He stopped kissing me, and I leaned closer to him, my lips at his neck this time. Daryl's breathing became more erratic, his fingers skirting around the band of my bra but not actually taking it off.
He's going to make me ask, isn't he?
He wanted to. I could feel how much he wanted to, but he was still holding back.
"Look at me," he said, and he waited until he had my full attention. "Tell me that you want it."
I got why he was doing it, and it was working. With my full attention on him always there was room for anything else to creep in. And although it still drove me crazy, there was also something about it, something in the way he looked at me while he waited for me to say what we both knew I would, that drove me crazy in a whole other way.
"I want you," I said, "to take it off, Daryl. Please."
"Weren't so hard," he said, in a way that made me want to either kiss him or tell him to fuck off. But I kept my mouth shut as I felt the clasp of my bra tighten and release. Daryl's lips twitched in a little smile as he peeled it off me, "Was it?"
The urge to kiss him won out. I pulled him closer. My hands all over him, his all over me. Or, almost, all over me. He touched my back, my stomach, the light caresses on my sides that made me shiver. Daryl's hands skirted around my chest, coming close but not allowing himself to actually touch me there. He was holding back. Waiting for me to ask, but he wanted it. Maybe even more badly than I did. His kiss got hungrier each time he got close, a low moan deep in the back of his throat.
I pulled away from him. Straddling his waist, I sat up, and Daryl rose too, his hands on my thighs wrapped around him. I took his face in my hands. Saw that hunger in his eyes. That heat. I'm still not used to that look. Or the feelings it stirs in me. I tried to hide them when I looked at him.
"Something you want, Daryl?" I asked innocently, but he knew immediately what I was doing. He gives me a delicious kind of smile. "You just gotta ask."
Not so easy, is it?
I thought for a moment that I had him, that after all he'd done to toy with me, he wouldn't be able to handle it the other way around. He leaned closer like he was going to kiss me to shut me up, but he didn't. Instead, he said, "All I want is to make you feel good."
"Wanna make me feel good," I repeated, "you can just give me a backrub for that. Or ain't that what you meant?"
I wondered how long I'd leave him hanging in this. I could see the blush at the edge of his smile, and I didn't know if he'd be able to say it. He'd always been a man of very few words. When he bent and kissed my neck again, I thought that was him giving in, but I was wrong.
"That noise you make," he said, "when I kiss you like this."
Goddamn.
Another kiss, and I was acutely aware of exactly what noise had left my lips.
"That's what I want," he said, kissing me a few more times, just to prove his point. I want you to show me what else will make you moan like that. What'll make you scream."
I swallowed hard. I had no idea what to say to that.
Goddamn.
But he wasn't done.
"The way you shiver when I touch you right here…." He ever so lightly traced a line close to my spine, and I shivered in a way that I could not control. Daryl watched it travel through my body with a smile that made it clear how much he was enjoying it. I tried to hold it back, I really thought I'd managed to get the upper hand here, but I'd turned into putty in his. "I want to know where else you like to be touched like that."
He did it again. Just to prove that he could.
"The way you're looking at me right now...," he said, and I felt a heat creep up the side of my face. I had no idea how I was looking at him right now. All I knew was I couldn't look away from him. "...like I'm all you can see. I wanna keep it that way. I want to make it so the only thing you know is my damn name."
Goddamn.
How could I resist that? Why the hell would anyone want to?
Without looking away from him, I took his hands and lifted them to my chest. He let me guide him to my breasts, and I showed him how I liked to be touched. Sending little jolts of pleasure shooting through my body. I bit my tongue in an effort to stop the whimpers that rose in my throat when he took control, but it was futile. And he liked it. I could see how much he liked it in the tightening of his jaw every time it happened. I could feel it in the bulge in his pants, growing underneath me.
Daryl kept his eyes on me, drinking in my reactions and using them to adjust what he was doing. Listening to the moans and whimpers, I couldn't hold in with every brush against my hard nipples. I had to close my eyes for a moment. I wasn't used to this. To being so vulnerable, so open with someone who loved me so completely that their sole focus was my pleasure.
As I threw my head back for a moment, a short respite from the way Daryl was looking at me, I felt his lips join his hands. I whispered his name. I didn't mean to. It just slipped out. But a grunt of response in the back of this throat told me he'd heard me.
And then something clicked. Not with us; I wasn't sure how we could've clicked anymore than we already had. Something in the empty house. Something that could've been the front door opening.
No.
Not again.
I tried to ignore it, tell myself it was nothing, but Daryl paused, a look on his face like he was listening too.
"Did you hear…?"
"No," I said, but I was already scrambling off him.
It had been way too long since Daryl, and I had got to be alone together. And while I was all for rebuilding Alexandria, it was starting to get to me. From the intensity of his kiss, I knew it was getting to him, too. Without waiting to see if there really was someone coming or if it was our paranoia from having been interrupted so many times, I scurried over to the bathroom that joined this room.
"C'mon," I said, motioning for him to join me. Daryl's eyebrows shot up.
"Boy, you weren't kidding about that shower, huh?"
"You coming in or not?" I said. I would've said something smarter, but I didn't have time for his teasing right now. Neither of us did. And if he said no I was going in any way because I'd need a cold shower to get my head straight.
"Hell yeah," he muttered. I backed away as he came in, switching the shower on so whoever was downstairs might hear it and leave this room alone.
Daryl lingered by the door for a moment after he'd locked it. He paused, then grabbed the handle and tugged to see if it would open, as if sneaking up on it would help. The door didn't budge and Daryl's shoulders visibly relaxed.
"Don't trust the lock?" I asked.
"Don't trust our luck," he muttered.
"Yeah, not sure there's a person here we haven't almost scarred for life," I said and felt that familiar twinge of shame and guilt, but it was hard to feel bad about it for long. Especially with Daryl standing there in front of me half-naked. Especially when I was still tingling head to toe from what he'd been doing to me on the bed. I wrapped my arms around him, kissed the scars across the backs of his shoulders. Until I did it, I hadn't realized how long I'd been waiting to kiss those wounds. Since the day he got them, I expect.
"This okay?" I murmured into his back.
"Yes," he said, and I kissed each one again like I could heal them.
He turned around and caught my lips with his. Kissed me hard and deep as steam from the shower started filling the room and enveloping us both. His bare chest against mine. It was just the two of us again, wrapped up in each other. The noise of the shower drowned out the outside world.
"Now what?" he asked, his voice low.
"Take 'em off," I gestured to his pants.
"You sure?" he asked, but he was already unfastening them and slipping out of his shoes.
"Yeah," I said. I still hesitated when I started unfastening my own jeans. That habit would be hard to kick. But all I had to do was think about the way Daryl had looked at me when I'd shown him my scars. When he'd kissed every last one. The same way he was looking at me now.
"We can stop any time."
"I know," I said, but I wasn't slowing down. The tiles were cool against my feet as my jeans and underwear crumpled around my ankles. I stepped out of them.
"Woah." Daryl breathed, eyes wide.
"What?" I said. He didn't answer right away, his breath got stuck somewhere in his throat, but it was me he was staring at. I glanced down at myself, praying it was nothing embarrassing. Then I realized he probably hadn't seen me without a shirt since my bruises healed.
"Oh, right, yeah, I know. Healed up pretty good, huh? You can't even really-"
"No, that's not what I meant," he said. "You're…"
"Don't," I warned him, not sure I'd be able to deal with any kind of compliment from him right now without melting into a puddle on the bathroom floor.
"Alright, I won't," Daryl said, the look in his eye not changing one bit. "But you are."
"Shut up."
"You can give me another spin if you like."
"Shut up," I said again. Daryl grinned and started pulling down his boxers. My immediate reaction was to look away, and that's when I realized that even though I saw him as the better half of my own soul, this was the first time we'd seen each other naked. I tried not to stare, I really did, but… damn.
"You're…" I started to say.
"Don't."
"Alright. But you are," I said. He shook his head, shaking off my unuttered compliment.
"Now what?"
"We get in," I gestured to where the shower flowed into a bathtub. I hadn't really had a game plan when I brought us in here. I'd seen a room with a lock that other people were unlikely to barge into, and I'd seized the opportunity. It wasn't like there was another bed or mattress in here, but I found that didn't put me off.
I stepped into the tub and looked back at Daryl. Tried not to let my eye line drift too far down.
"You gotta ask," he reminded me.
Goddamn.
"Daryl," I sighed. "Please, will you get in the damn shower with me?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said. He got in the damn shower with me, coming up behind me as I turned away to adjust the temperature so it wouldn't scold us. I reached behind and pulled his arms around me. He hugged me from behind for a moment, both of us enjoying the novelty of our warm, naked bodies pressed together. Then his hands started to drift back up to continue what he'd started before, and he whispered, "You like this, huh?"
It wasn't really a question, but I still said, "Yes," because I didn't want him to stop.
"Good," he said, and I felt his breath on the back of my neck. It was his turn to kiss across my back, my shoulders, I reached up and swept my hair to one side, and he didn't need more of an invitation than that to kiss me there too. All the time Daryl never stopped what he was doing with his hands. Never stopped sending those jolts of pleasure speeding through me, to build and gather in my core.
Daryl was moving slow, taking his time with me. And it wasn't what I was used to, wasn't something I knew I liked, but with him, it was different. He got so much out of it that I got caught up in it too. Too wrapped up in him to feel self-conscious or get in my head about anything. Every shiver, every moan, every whimper, I held none of it back. Because I knew he liked it. And I liked that he liked it.
Even so, there was only so much I could take before my body was screaming for more. I knew he wouldn't do it if I didn't ask. And I had to ask. The heat that was building me was pressure so intense I thought I'd burst.
"Daryl."
"Mmm?" he murmured into my back, not stopping his slow exploration of my skin.
"I want you to touch me," I said, taking one of his hands and moving it further down my body, "down here."
He stopped then, raised his head to rest his chin on my shoulder. "You sure?"
"Yes," I said. "I'm ready."
"Show me," he said, his lips grazing my ear.
"Right here," I guided his hand to where I needed him between my thighs. Forgetting his own strength, he used a little too much pressure, and I gasped, "Not so hard."
"Sorry." His touch immediately lightened, and the contrast made me gasp again. "Better?"
"Mmm-hmm," I said. It was about all I could get out. But he knew. How could he not? The way my body buckled against his at the lightest stroke. I'd always known Daryl was good with his hands, but I hadn't expected it would translate to this. They were rough, but he was gentle. Maybe too gentle. I needed more of him. I pushed my hips down harder against his hand, my body begging for some release.
"I need you deeper," I said, reaching down to take control of his hand again.
"Wait," he said. I paused. Felt a flicker of deep disappointment as he pulled his hand away. "Turn around. I wanna look at ya."
I didn't know if I could bear to have his eyes on me in the way he'd looked at me before. Not like this. The thought of it left me feeling too vulnerable, like something about it was too intimate, although all that was really changing was I'd be aware of him looking at me. But I did turn toward him. Because the thought that he might stop was worse.
When I did finally turn, all my worry evaporated under the heat of his gaze. I lost every part of me that disliked myself in how much he loved me. Maybe he saw my nerves, or maybe he just wanted to, but either way, Daryl kissed me again. One of his hands ran down to the back of my thigh and pulled my leg to his side. I hooked it around his hip.
"You ready?" he asked me. I nodded and guided his hand again. Let myself adjust to having his fingers inside me, let him explore, let him know when he hit on particular sweet spots. His free hand held me around the waist. The tiles on the wall were freezing cold against the heat of my shoulders as I leaned back against them and surrendered.
It was easy to do.
After all my hesitation about turning to face him, I found I couldn't take my eyes off him. The pleasure that flickered across his face every time he created it in me. The fire in his eyes that wouldn't go out, wouldn't be satisfied until I was.
Daryl paid close attention to every slight change in my body, reading me like a damn book. Doing more of what I liked until I was close and he knew it. The moment he saw it, he eased off. Keeping me on the edge but not allowing me to go over.
What are you doing?
I couldn't ask. I was beyond words at this point. The question must have formed and dissolved on my lips a hundred times, but Daryl read it in my eyes.
"Say my name," he said. "I wanna hear you say it."
I nodded, although I wasn't sure it was a promise I could keep. If I couldn't form a simple question or answer him with a 'yes' I wasn't sure I could make any coherent sound at all. But I nodded because he couldn't keep me here, on the edge like this. Not in this exquisite torture. It wasn't fair.
Daryl stopped holding out on me. Watched me intently, like he was getting as much pleasure out of it as I was. I gripped his shoulder tight as a wave of pleasure built up inside me again. I couldn't let it break. Not without giving him what he wanted, too. I focussed on him, and it almost made things worse. He consumed me, the thought of him became tangled in the feeling inside me, and I knew I'd never be able to feel this way again without thinking about him.
"Daryl." I managed to say it, and the moment I did, it was like the word itself gave me permission. The pressure finally broke, leaving me in toe-curling, fingernail-digging, screaming pleasure.
I couldn't see straight. Couldn't hear anything. My knee buckled underneath me, and Daryl caught me, pulled me to him.
This is how it is.
To belong to someone.
As it faded, I sank into him, my head on his chest. Hearing his heartbeat, I wondered if mine would ever return to normal. If my head would ever stop spinning. His arms wrapped tightly around me, and he held me to him while I caught my breath. The warm water from the shower washed over both of us.
"Lemme get you a towel," he said, gently like I was recovering from something. Which, I guess I kind of was. He reached for one, and I caught his wrist, raised my head from his chest again in time to see him look back at me in confusion.
"We ain't done," I told him with a smile. It was cute that he thought we were.
"But I thought you…." For a second, he looked mortified. "Did you not…?"
"I did," I said. He looked confused for a second. It was only when I dropped to my knees in front of him that he caught my meaning.
"Oh," he said. "You ain't gotta…."
"I know," I assured him. "I want to,"
If he thought I was letting him get out of this shower without showing him the same attention and devotion he'd just given to me, then he didn't know me as well as he thought he did.
If he wanted that, of course.
"Can I?" I asked, wrapping a hand around his shaft and looking up at him. "Please?"
He throbbed in my hand. I saw that jaw tighten again before he let himself say, "Yes."
When I took him, dripping, into my mouth, he closed his eyes and titled his head back. Whispered my name like he was praying even though I was the one on my knees.
I took my time with Daryl. It wasn't revenge for the way he'd left me hanging a few moments ago; I liked it. I enjoyed watching the way his muscles tensed as I took him deeper, as I let my tongue play with him. The sounds he couldn't stop himself from making. Looking up at him as droplets of water glistened across his body, and his breathing became erratic.
Then Daryl looked down at me again, and it was like he couldn't look away. His face slightly flushed he reached down and pushed back some of the wet hair that was sticking to my face so he could get a better look at me.
"Fuck," he whispered. "You are fucking beautiful."
And I knew that was what he'd been trying to tell me all day, every time I'd shut him up. But I didn't mind hearing it now. It was the way it slipped right out of him. I don't think he knew he'd said it; it was a thought that had escaped because he was letting that guard down. He was giving in to me in the same way I had to him.
Something in his expression shifted from a strain like he was holding something back to complete surrender. Where he'd been tentative and gentle at the start, like he was afraid of hurting me, he knew he didn't need to worry. I enjoyed it just as much as he did, and he started to see it in my eyes. Even when he hit the back of my throat, and I choked a little, he could see that I wanted him in a way he isn't used to being wanted. That I need him for more than my own pleasure. And that pleasure was all I wanted to give him.
He warned me when he was close, but I already knew. I could see it in his eyes, feel it in the way he throbbed in my mouth. I don't know if he was expected me to pull back, but all it did was spur me on to try harder. His hands fisted in my hair. My name slipped from his lips again, and his whole body shook with the force of it.
This is how it is.
When someone belongs to you.
He sank down to join me on his knees. Kissed me before he'd even caught his breath. Kissed me with such force, it sent me toppling backward, pulling him down on top of me. A tangle of exhausted limbs in the tub.
"I love you," he said, his breathing still labored.
"I love you, too," I said, pushing his wet hair away from his face. "Even if we gotta sneak around like a pair of damn teenagers for me to show you how much."
"Think we had more privacy when we were teenagers," he said, and I laughed. "Nobody gave a damn where we were then."
Neither of us was ready to get out and get back to the real world. So we stayed where we were, coming up for breath between tired, tender kisses. I held him, and was proud of myself for keeping flashbacks at bay and even more proud of him for helping me get there.
This was how it was meant to be. For me, for him… for us.
"Showers as good as you remember?" he asked.
"They're way dirtier than I remember," I said. He laughed and leaned against me, his head on my chest, wet hair under my chin. I kissed the top of his head, wrapped my arms and legs around him, and couldn't think of a single moment in my life that had been happier than this one. Even with the cold sides of the tub pressed against me and one of the taps digging into my shoulder, I wouldn't have changed where I was for all the world.
Daryl
I paced the length of the kitchen, kept glancing at the clock and the door and fretting that the wrong person was going to walk in. I'd told Aaron a thousand times that once she was done talking to the King, he had to keep Naomi busy and far away from this house. It would be just like her to stumble in any way. I'd tried to get the place ready, but I didn't know what we'd need, so I'd wound up taking every damn pot and pan and laying them out on the kitchen countertop. Looked messier and less helpful than when I started.
Goddamn, I'm already messing this up.
When the door did eventually open, and my stomach lurched in fear, it was only Rick.
"Hey," I said, relieved he'd finally shown up.
"I brought reinforcements," Rick said, as more voices followed him into the house. My chest felt tight all of a sudden. Carol and Glenn waved at me over his shoulder. All of them grinning like a bunch of fools.
"Aw, hell," I grumbled at him. "What did you have to drag all them into this for?"
"I don't know what you think of me, Daryl," Rick said. "But I don't know how to bake shit. Didn't know before all this, back when we could pick things up from grocery stores, and I sure as hell don't know how to make anything with the things we've got lying around now. Carol, on the other hand, knows what she's doing."
"Yes, I do, and I am happy to help," Carol said brightly, putting a wicker basket of supplies down on the table. She gave me a sarcastic little smile, "And it's good to see you, too, Daryl."
I was still too mad at Rick to feel bad about it. I pointed at Glenn, "And him?"
"Glenn's here to help, too."
"You get good at cooking at Hilltop or something?" I asked. Glenn was good at leading runs and hot-wiring cars, but as far as I knew, he couldn't cook for shit.
"No," he said, "but I am getting pretty good at dating in the apocalypse, so I thought I might be able to help out more in that department."
"You told them what this was about?!" I yelled at Rick.
"I had to tell them something," Rick said. "They wouldn't have believed me if I'd just said, 'hey, Daryl fancies doing some baking, wanna help?'"
"I still almost didn't believe it," Carol said. "But when Rick said it was for Naomi, it-"
"Alright, get out," I said. At the mention of Naomi's name and the sing-song way Carol had said it, I felt like I'd been stung. Adrenaline shot through me, made my heart beat so hard I thought it might actually explode. "All y'all, get out. I'm calling this whole thing off."
"Daryl, no," Carol said softly. "Come on, you don't mean that."
"We're only trying to help, man," Rick said.
"You can help by clearing off," I told him. "Didn't need you getting half of Alexandria up in my damn business."
"Two other people is hardly half of Alexandria," Rick said. I glared at him.
"Well, I did tell Maggie," Glenn admitted. "But it's not like she's going to tell anyone."
"And I might have mentioned it to Zeke," Carol said. "But it's not like he's going to tell anyone."
"She's with Ezekiel right now!" I was about ready to flip a table.
"Oh, he won't tell her," Carol rolled her eyes, her tone like I was some kid throwing a temper tantrum.
"Out," I told them all, pointing at the door they'd just come in.
"We just want to help, man," Rick said.
"Yeah," Glenn nodded earnestly. "We're really happy for you, and we want to make sure it goes well. You deserve this."
"Nah," I said. "Get out."
I turned my back to all of them. If they weren't about to get out, then I'd leave. Felt like I was suffocating in that room with all of their stupid dopey grins.
"Naomi deserves this," Carol said. I stopped by the door, could feel them all pause behind me like they were holding their breath.
Shit.
She does.
I turned on my heels and looked at Carol. "Rick tell you what we're making?"
"Pie, right?"
"Right," I said. "Banoffee pecan pie."
"There's no way we can do that," Carol said.
"We have to. That's her favorite."
"When was the last time you saw a banana, Daryl?" Rick asked.
"What've bananas got to do with it?"
"That's the 'ban' in 'banoffee'," Carol said. "And there might be some pecan trees out here somewhere, but they are few and far between, so good luck finding them."
"So what's left? 'Offie pie? Ain't ever heard of it."
"Toffee," Carol said, filling in the blank for me. "And no, we can't make that either."
"Then what the hell's the point in all this?"
"To make something nice for your girlfriend," Carol said. Her tone hadn't changed the whole time. Still bright and calm and cheerful. Still damn annoying. She started laying out the things in her basket. "Isn't that what you want?"
"I want to make her favorite food," I said. "Not… whatever the hell this is for!"
"Peach and apple cobbler," Carol said.
"Cobbler? You mean it ain't even a goddamn pie?" I yelled although I'd be damned if I'd be able to tell you the difference between the two, and I hoped Carol wouldn't call me out on it. I was just mad that everything I had planned in my head was already falling to shit. Made me want to call the whole thing off.
"Come on," Carol said, patting the worktop beside her like I hadn't just yelled about. "Start cutting these apples for me."
I did it. But only because cutting things up with a big sharp knife released some of the tension building in my brain. Carol got Rick to chip in too, and we worked in the stony silence I'd created.
"You nervous?" Carol asked, when my rage had turned down to a simmer.
"Pfft, no," I said, but under all the anger I was hurling at them, my stomach was doing summersaults. "Maybe a little."
"That's why I'm here," Glenn said, settling down on a chair and watching the rest of us move around the kitchen. Carol hadn't given him a job to do, and seeing him sit around on his ass while we chopped and boiled and peeled and mixed things was annoying.
"Yeah, and what are you going to do?" I asked. "Tell me to 'just be myself'? I've been 'being myself' the whole time I've known her. Can't hide any of the bad shit away now. She's already seen it."
"Dating's different," Glenn started to say, but Rick interrupted him. He'd been frowning and thinking something so hard he hadn't listened at all.
"How come Naomi's meeting with the King?" he asked.
"Talking about Kingdom stuff," I shrugged, although I knew what he was really getting at. "Plans for the future, y'know."
"So, she agreed to your stupid plan already? I have to say, I thought she'd put up more of a fight," Rick said. I didn't say anything right away, but I guess my silence answered for me. "You haven't told her?"
"Nah," I said with a shrug like it was no big deal. "Not yet."
"Told her what?" Glenn asked.
"That he's moving to Sanctuary," Rick replied.
"Temporarily," I reminded him. Couldn't face being in that place forever.
"Temporarily," Rick agreed, in that reassuring cop-voice. "But still, you gotta tell her, man. She's off making plans with the King."
"I know," I said. "That's exactly what she should be doing."
"We'll be really sorry not to have you guys with us," Carol said, rolling something out under a rolling pin.
"You'll have Naomi and Mia," I said. "You just won't have me. Temporarily."
I didn't know how many ways I could say it before they got it in their damn heads. Even now, Carol raised her eyebrows and smiled a little. "Yeah. Right."
"You think she won't want to go with you?" Glenn asked.
"I ain't letting her go with me," I said.
"Not sure that's your choice, Daryl," Carol said. She still hadn't looked up from what she was doing, but there was something cold in her tone now.
"Sure as hell is my choice," I said. "That place ain't good for her."
"She's a grown woman, and she can decide that for herself," Carol said, and she looked at me this time. That frost in her voice had carried over into her eyes. It shut me up.
"I thought you went to tell her this morning?" Rick said, still stuck on the same damn topic but saving me from any more of Carol's glare.
"Yeah, I did," I said, and then I avoided his eyes too when I remembered why I hadn't been able to tell Naomi that morning. When she'd flown into my arms and kissed me like that… everything else had flown right out of my head.
"What happened?" Rick asked. "Couldn't find her?"
"Just… wasn't the right time," I said because I was too flustered to think of a good enough lie.
"Bullshit."
"Something came up, okay?" I said, praying he'd drop it.
"What?"
"Just… stuff," I snapped.
"Oh. Oh," Glenn's eyes brightened as he was the first to realize. "I know what that means."
"Shut up," I warned him.
"Which reminds me…." Glenn said as if I hadn't spoken. "I don't know if you guys have your own supply, but I brought you these."
He held up a plastic carrier bag and passed it to me. It was lighter than I expected. I opened it up and took a peek at the foil wrappers glinting inside. Took me a beat to work out what they were. Condoms. I threw the bag back at him like it had bit me. "What the hell?!"
"What?" Glenn jumped when the bag came swinging back at him. "Maggie's already pregnant, so we don't really need them right now, I thought-"
"That ain't none of your damn business," I snapped.
"Hey, I'm sorry, man," Glenn raised his hands in peace. "I was only trying to help."
"Well, no one asked you, so butt out," I yelled.
"Okay, sorry," Glenn said. He shrank away from me.
"Alright, we're ready," Carol said, holding up the raw cobbler in its tin. "You wanna open up the oven for me, Daryl?"
"Sure," I said, feeling terrible about the sour mood I'd created. I opened the oven door, Carol slid the cobbler in, and then I let it shut. The door slammed more than I meant it to.
I didn't know how to fix things. Glenn was staring miserably at the table. Rick wouldn't look at me. Carol had busied herself tidying things away. They'd been trying to help me, but
I cleared my throat. "Naomi and I… we haven't actually…not the whole way... yet."
It was fragments of nothing, but Glenn got my meaning from it anyway and lifted his eyes to look at me. "Really?"
I could see his surprise in his eyes, and feel it from the rest of them, too. Something about the way we were always swearing and yelling and getting in fights made people think that would translate into us going at it like rabbits all the time from the second we'd first kissed. They had no idea how long we'd been waiting.
How long I'd been waiting.
Worth it, though.
Wouldn't have changed a damn thing.
"I don't wanna rush her," I said. "I just wanted to do something nice for her. Spend time with her. I don't want her thinking that's what all of this is for, because it ain't like that."
"I get it, man," Glenn said. "I didn't mean to assume anything."
"I freaked, and I'm sorry I yelled," I said. "I just want this to be perfect."
"It will be," Glenn said, always the first to forgive. "You'd be amazed what just some time away from the group will do."
I thought about Naomi in the shower that morning, and he was right, I was still amazed by it. Rick cleared his throat. I braced myself for another awkward question, but when I looked at him he had this soft, far-off look in his eyes.
"When Michonne and I went on a run, just the two of us," he said. "Spent a few days out there scavenging different places for food… Even though we were in the middle of a fight with the Saviors, even though we were facing Walkers out there, and knew people would starve if we didn't get enough… Being out there, just me and her… was the best romantic getaway I've ever been on."
"Oh, yeah?" I said, but I wasn't convinced.
In my head, the people Naomi had dated before me had been able to take her on all these crazy good dates. I don't even mean just the best restaurants or fancy plays or theater trips. I mean helicopter rides over the city, and spa trips, and buying her jewelry pretty enough for a Princess. Because that's how anyone lucky enough to date her should've treated her. And how could I compete with that?
It was all fine and well for Rick to say his trip with Michonne had been the best romantic break he'd ever been on, but he'd been able to take Lori on them before the dead started walking. Even before all of this, I'd never have been able to offer Naomi much more than I could now.
I sank down onto a chair, head in my hands. The smell of cooking cobbler filled the kitchen, but even that didn't cheer me up. It should be her favorite. It should be perfect.
"So banoffee pecan pie, huh?" Rick said. "That's a pretty specific favorite."
"She worked in this diner when we were kids," I said. "They served it there. If there were leftovers, she'd always bring us a slice."
"One slice?" Glenn asked. "For both of you."
"Sometimes that's all there was left," I said. "Sometimes we'd get lucky, and there'd be two pieces of pie - sometimes different flavors, sometimes the same. Sometimes we'd get a whole meal if something got burnt or they accidentally made too much. But that pie was always her favorite. If she was working and I went in to see her, she'd stop by my table and give me a running update on how much was left before closing. Next day, she'd carry it to school like she'd won some kinda prize, no matter how small the leftover piece was."
"She brought it to school?" Rick asked. "Didn't eat it when she got in from her shift?"
"No," I said.
"And she'd always share it with you?" Glenn asked. "No matter how small the leftover piece was?"
"Yeah," I said, feeling a little defensive and wondering if it was because they clearly hadn't been listening to a damn word I'd said. "That's how we did things back then. We didn't have a lot, didn't always know where our next meal was coming from. If she was working and I went to see her, she could sometimes get away with slipping me some free food, and I brought her half of anything I hunted. We shared."
"But still," Carol said. "Any time she got the tiniest piece of her favorite dessert, she'd save it until you could eat half?"
"Yeah."
"Sounds like what she liked most was spending time with you," Carol said. "If the pie was that important to her, she'd have kept it to herself."
"Your date's gonna be fine, man," Rick said, a hand on my shoulder and laughter in his eyes. And for the first time that day, I believed it.
