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Going on a supply run together became their routine. Together and alone, they were the toughest pair, having chemistry between them. Things in Alexandria had begun to settle down after costing so much blood and tears, letting them have time to breathe finally. The leader and the hunter, never the ones who could stay home forever, took this opportunity and ran around trying to find more supplies, hopefully more people, too, to reinforce the community. The chance was slim, though. They hadn't seen any other living souls for weeks.
Sharing food and drinks was something very common for the two. Not that Daryl used not to do it with Merle. Passing around a bottle of whiskey he'd found while sitting on the couch with Rick reminded him of those times he had spent with his brother. He took the bottle from the other man as he flicked his long bangs out of his eyes, taking a large gulp. His hair was slightly overgrown, and he could hear Merle's mocking voice in the back of his head. Ya look like a gurl, baby brother. Cut your damn hair!
"What's funny?"
Rick's soft voice brought him out of his thoughts. Turning his eyes to him, Daryl found the other man staring at him, an amused look on his face. "You're smiling."
"Nah. Nothin'." But he knew his lips were curled up a little, feeling relaxed. Rick always had this effect on him, melting the tension he held inside away and making him let his walls down with seemingly little effort.
It was pitch dark outside, the only light in the room coming from a candle lantern on the floor. The cabin they were in was a place their group used as a rest stop, easily guarded, difficult to be spotted from the road.
The warm, yellow light of the lantern wavered over Rick's face, shining upon his stupid grin, the way his eyes twinkled making Daryl's heart flutter. "Nothing, huh? When you say it's nothin', there's somethin'."
"You think you know me well enough to say that?" A corner of Daryl's lips quirked up, challenging. He could feel the alcohol buzz through his veins, warming him and loosing his tongue. His face must be slightly flushed, but he didn't care, not when he was alone with this man, his man, and no one was watching them.
As he took another gulp, he shifted on the couch, lifting his bare feet up and placing his legs across Rick's lap. He held the other man's gaze impudently, the heat in those intense blue eyes stoking his desire. There was something fierce and insane inside Rick, and Daryl loved it, loved seeing it break his calm, sweet facade. Loved making it erupt.
It was the trust he had in the other man that let him able to enjoy it. Rick would never take advantage of him and overpower him like his old man and a few assholes had done through his life.
Keeping his eyes fixed on the other's, Daryl tilted his head back a bit as he put the rim of the bottle to his lips, sipping slowly, savoring the burning sensation in his throat and Rick's predatory stare. He watched the leader watching him expose his neck and his Adam's apples bob, letting a thin stream of liquid flow from his mouth. A low, dangerous growl escaped Rick, the look in his eyes so thrilling it was almost terrifying. "Want me to show you how well I know you?"
Before Daryl could respond, hands gripped his jeans, pulling them down and dragging him closer, his upper body sliding down, hair rumpled against the back of the couch. He nearly yelped in surprise, and glared at the man who was now on top of him, holding up the bottle in the air so as not to spill any. That stupid grin broke out on Rick's face again as he yanked Daryl's boxers down to his knees, eyeing him from his face to the exposed skin, making him feel like prey.
Leaning down, eyes never leaving Daryl's, Rick swiped his tongue across his half-hard cock, which elicit an involuntary moan from the hunter. The leader chuckled deep in his throat, hands rubbing up and down his bare thighs, pulling them apart as they reached the juncture. "I know you're a needy bastard."
"And yer a greedy sonuva bitch, you know that?" Daryl's voice didn't sound as intimidating as he'd intended, concern clenching his throat suddenly. "Michonne..."
"She knows about us." Rick stared into his eyes, cupping his blushing cheek with one hand reassuringly. "She's been watching us and figured it out. I made sure of that."
Of course she had, Daryl thought. Whatever this was between them, it had started happening back in the woods after the farm, and even after Rick had found a perfect woman who could give warmth and comfort to him and his kids in Alexandria, he had still needed to vent his aggression. The target couldn't be women; no, it was not Rick Grimes. Daryl could take it, hell, he wanted to take it. He wanted to be with Rick, touch him and be touched by him. He wanted him.
Whatever happened, wherever they ended up, Rick would come back to him. Maybe it was not a want but a need. Still, Daryl didn't give a damn. He knew he wasn't worth Rick's want, attention and care. He would just take whatever he offered.
So here he was, slumping into the couch, panting and gasping and arching into the man's caress, legs open and cock throbbing. Rick's hand that had cupped his cheek took the bottle from Daryl's, and through a haze of arousal the hunter watched him pour whiskey over his other hand, confused. Rick put the bottle on the floor, smiling down at him so sweetly that Daryl forgot everything else for a moment and gaped at the man until he brushed his wet fingers over his hole, pushing in a little.
Daryl couldn't help but groan with anticipation, wriggling out of his jeans and boxers, getting one leg free so that he could spread his legs wider, one foot on the floor. His hips bucked against Rick's hand, fingers curling in his shirt, tugging him closer, eyes dark and demanding. "C'mon, Grimes. Give it to me."
"Now who's greedy?" Rick teased, circling the puckered skin with his fingers before pushing his middle finger in, curling it to seek his sweet spot. A deep sigh left Daryl's lips as he felt pleasure coiling in his stomach, but it wasn't enough. He growled, wrapping one leg around Rick's waist, arching against him until he had three fingers inside his tight channel.
Rick pinned his body down, ripping his shirt open and exploring his skin as he moved his fingers in and out of him, his thrust slow, deep, possessive, driving Daryl crazy. There was no way Daryl could keep higher, whining noises from escaping his mouth, and since he had squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, the sudden feeling of water showering over his crotch made him nearly jump out of his skin.
His eyes shot open wide, seeing Rick holding the bottle, a pretty good amount of whiskey gone. Daryl looked down, the amber fluid soaking his cock and balls, running down his crack. The feeling of the wetness was oddly embarrassing, and extremely arousing.
Rick smirked, placing the bottle back onto the floor. Then he resumed his thrusts, picking up the pace as he forced his fingers to drive deeper and harder, pumping in and out of Daryl, scraping the bundle of nerves inside. His movements became more frantic and savage, his fingers and Daryl's hole making the most obscene, sloppy sounds, and Daryl cried out, head thrown back, mouth agape, his hand reaching down to grab Rick's, mumbled 'more' and 'harder' spilling out of his lips.
Rick's other hand was back on his chest, pinching his nipple between his thumb and index finger, rubbing against it and pressing hard. Daryl didn't even have time to realize how quickly he was climbing higher until he came hard without having his cock touched. He gasped for air, whimpering as Rick's fingers didn't stop the vicious thrusts through his orgasm, making Daryl's body quiver and squirm, sticky white cum all over his stomach. Daryl felt dazed, overwhelmed, trying to ignore the fact he had just come from being fingered and getting his nipple pinched like a little bitch in heat.
Pulling his fingers out finally, Rick grinned down at him, lustful eyes roaming his body. "God, I like seeing you like this, all wet and exposed and undone."
Daryl snorted, sitting up slowly and palming the bulge in Rick's jeans as he peered up at him through his sweat damp bangs. "Ya like seeing me suck you off?"
"You know me well, too."
In a frenzied hurry, Rick unzipped his pants, dropping them to the floor along with his underwear while Daryl slipped off the couch and landed on his knees in front of the other man, now all he wore was a sleeveless shirt hanging open. Daryl's bare leg hit the bottle and he snatched it up, splashing the rest of the liquid on Rick's rock hard cock. A sharp hiss leaving his full lips turned into a deep groan as Daryl held his thighs, his tongue licking up the drenched shaft.
"Tastes good," he mumbled around the swollen head, pursing his lips and sucking hard on it. The taste of alcohol and Rick himself swarmed in Daryl's mouth. As he swallowed him as deep as he could go, he felt Rick's hands slide into his hair and clench the strands painfully, which sent a little shiver through his body.
Encouraged, he began bobbing his head up and down the entire length, making slurping sounds, intensifying his movements as Rick's moans grew louder, his hips moving in rhythm, hands tightening in his hair. He took him so deep his jaw hurt, but he continued his ministration, licking and sucking the thick cock in his mouth, cheeks hollow, chin covered in drool and precum and whiskey.
It didn't take long before Rick's cock swelled, stretching Daryl's lips, blasting jets of his cum into his mouth and down his throat, body convulsed violently with a grunt. Daryl managed to swallow the full load, pulling away and coughing a bit. Suddenly Rick's hands held his face, tilting his head up, then his lips sealed Daryl's with fierce pressure, slanting across them, tongue sliding into the depths of his mouth. Daryl grabbed his shirt collar, pulling him even closer as he kissed back eagerly, heat swirling through him again.
They shared the taste of cum, whiskey and themselves until they had to break apart for air. Blue eyes locked, only inches away, seriousness taking over Rick's face. "If you feel uncomfortable with the things we're doin'... I mean, I and Michonne..."
"That what you were thinkin' 'bout all this time?" Daryl forced a smirk, an attempt to lighten the air, or avoid the topic. "S'fine. Not my business anyway."
He saw something flicker in Rick's eyes for a moment, something like hurt, and couldn't help but look away from them. Probably he didn't deserve this man. Rick deserved someone better, someone like her. But despite how strongly he believed it, he knew he would never bring himself to let Rick down when the man reached out for him with need. That was downright pathetic and greedy of him.