Rick raises an eyebrow as he comes in from the yard to find his group gathered in the main mess area around a single table. He takes in several details at the same time – there's a large bowl of semi-clear liquid sitting on the table, everyone is there which means no one is watching the walls, and Beth has a box in her hand and is almost vibrating with energy.
"What'd I miss?"
"I found a game out on my run," Michonne says, grinning toothily. Rick regards her for a moment. Is she…drunk? "I thought it would be fun to play."
Rick huffs and steps closer. As he approaches he catches the scent of something that's definitely alcohol, and eyes the bowl dubiously. "What is that?" he asks, nodding to it.
"A special Dixon brew of my own makin'," Merle crows, waving at Rick with his stump. "Try it, Officer Friendly."
"Um…no. Thank you."
Michonne shrugs and Rick sees her take a sip and it looks like she's drinking whatever it is Merle has made. It smells like lemons, lime, and bleach. "Seriously, what the Hell – did you make alcohol?"
"We are in a prison," Merle says. "Like a five star restaurant when it comes to makin' moonshine."
"You can't be serious," Rick says. "Who's on the tower? Who's watchin' the walls?"
"I think we can spare an afternoon," Maggie says with a roll of her eyes. She has a cup in front of her too and it's half-full. "We'll sober up before nightfall, and if anythin' happens we got…"
"Daryl's not drinkin'," Merle says, complaining, with a roll of his eyes. Rick frowns. He doesn't see Daryl in the immediate vicinity, but as soon as Merle says his name, it's like there are eyes on his neck and Rick lifts his head to see Daryl leaning over the rail of the balcony on the upper level. He has a cigarette in his fingers and as Rick meets his eyes he smirks and gives him a lazy salute. "And Missus badass over there isn't either," Merle adds, gesturing to Carol, who's holding Judith. "Colonel Sanders is sleepin', and lil baby farmgirl and your boy here can't drink. So we got enough sober companions for the rest."
Rick rolls his eyes and nods to Beth. "What's that?" he asks.
"It's a card game," she says, grinning and opening it to reveal the little slip of instructions inside. The box itself is plain black and when Rick tilts his head, he can read the words on it.
Never Have I Ever…
"You've got to be kidding," Rick mutters, rubbing a hand over his forehead and through his hair.
"I thought she was, too, but I can't resist a pair of pretty blue eyes like that, my man," Merle replies with a cheer. He hands Rick a cup full of the strong-smelling liquid. "C'mon, Rick. Lighten up a bit. Unclench."
Rick looks back up at Daryl, helplessly searching for some backup. Daryl smirks at him again and rolls his eyes. He crushes the cigarette under his boot and starts to climb down the stairs, blowing smoke out as he goes.
"I'll play," he says, taking a seat at the end of the booth next to Carol.
"Got nothin' to drink with," Michonne says.
"I'll use water, then," Daryl replies, taking out a bottle of water from the pallet under the table. He hands one to Carol as well, and then slides two down to Beth and Carl. Rick sighs, sensing he's not going to get any backup from Daryl, and sits on his other side.
"Alright, what are the rules?" he asks. He can't remember playing Never Have I Ever in his life, although he remembers overhearing Lori playing it with some of her friends at her bachelorette party before Shane had picked him up to go to the bar for his bachelor party. Even then, it had been more giggles than anything else.
"Well, there are cards here, and basically whoever's turn it is reads it out, and it's meant to be somethin' you've never done. If you have done it, you gotta drink."
"Sounds simple enough."
"And if you're the only one who drinks, you have to tell the story," Beth finishes, nodding to herself and folding up the instruction sheet, slipping it into the lid of the box. Rick takes a cautious whiff of his drink and grimaces.
"This is a bad idea," Rick warns, but apparently his protests fall on deaf ears.
"I'll start!" Beth says brightly, and takes the first card. She clears her throat. "Never Have I Ever smoked pot."
"Careful, we got a cop in the room," Merle warns. He, Daryl, Michonne, and Glenn drink. After a moment, Rick does too, gasping at the bitter taste of whatever it is Merle is passing off as booze. Merle crows with delight, slamming his hand on the table. "No shit! Really?"
"I'm shocked, Rick," Michonne says, slurring the words. Clearly she's already had a few before Rick even came in. "Shocked."
Rick laughs. "What? I was young once."
"Alright, me next," Carl says, dragging the box towards him and taking out a card. "Um…Never Have I Ever broken a bone."
Daryl clears his throat. "Do we have to take a drink for each one?" he asks.
Maggie shakes her head. "Just if you've done it."
Daryl nods, and drinks. Merle does, too. And Beth. "I fell off my horse once," she says. "Broke my arm."
"Me next," Michonne says. "Never Have I Ever…made someone else clean up my mess," she says, then rolls her eyes. "Lame." Everyone drinks and Rick swallows hard. The liquor is numbing his throat and it's making it easier to swallow. Maggie holds out her cup and Merle refills it.
"Never Have I Ever woken up in a stranger's bed," Glenn announces. His eyes flash to Maggie's for a moment and, after an apologetic smile, he drinks.
"Oh, you were the only one!" Beth says, clapping her hands. "You have to tell the story."
"Ugh, it's nothing," Glenn says, shaking his head. "When I turned twenty-one I went out drinking and got really fucked up. I blacked out and woke up in another dorm than the one I was in. There was this girl, she says I spent the night crying on her shoulder about how good pizza tasted and passed out."
There's silence for a moment, and then Daryl huffs a laugh. "Ladykiller," he says, teasingly.
Glenn rolls his eyes and passes the box to Maggie. "Alright. Never Have I Ever gone streaking."
Rick's eyes scan the room, widening with Merle and Carl both drink. "Carl!" he says, shocked.
"It was a dare!" Carl replies.
"Oh my God," Rick says, rubbing his hand over his eyes. He abruptly remembers his son is here, and if this game goes down the line that it normally goes, things are destined to get really awkward, really quickly. "I don't want to know."
Merle is next, and he has a shit-eating grin on his face when he takes his card and makes a show of reading it over before speaking; "Never Have I Ever…fantasized about someone of the same gender."
Rick's fingers tighten on the edge of his mug, and he bites his lower lip. No one is drinking, but they're all watching each other, waiting for it.
After a moment Daryl speaks, glaring at Merle. "Does it count if the fantasy is wringin' their neck?" he asks, flatly.
Merle grins. "Nope," he replies, popping the 'P'. "C'mon, Darlena, no lying."
Daryl growls, lowly, and takes a drink. Rick does too. Merle looks at him, his eyes widening, and he lets out a low whistle. "You've been holdin' out on us, Officer Friendly."
"Yeah, good thing it wasn't just me," Rick says, looking to Daryl. He thinks he might see a flicker of gratitude in Daryl's eyes, and a small smile hidden behind his hair when he ducks his gaze down. Michonne takes a drink too, grinning at Rick when he meets her eyes and smiles at her, huffing a small laugh.
Rick is next, and he pulls the box across to him and takes out a card. "Alright. Never Have I Ever..." He rolls his eyes and throws the card down. "Never Have I Ever used handcuffs in the bedroom," he says, and takes a long drink.
He sets his cup down and holds it out for a refill, only realizing then that he was the only one who drank. Everyone is looking at him with anticipation – except for Carl, who looks mildly uncomfortable.
"Fuck," he says, and looks to Michonne. "Really?" Carol. Maggie. They shake their heads. "No one?"
"Tell us the story," Michonne says, grinning.
"There's…a few to choose from," Rick admits, grimacing.
"Eww! Okay, I'm out," Carl says, standing. Rick's cheeks are burning and Merle lets out a guffawing laugh as Carl stands and walks away with his bottle of water, out towards the watchtower.
"Would someone mind going with him?" Rick asks.
"I'll go," Carol says, standing with Judith. She gives Rick a kind smile and leaves the room, following close behind.
As soon as she's gone, Merle grins and tosses his card at Rick. "C'mon, man, you owe us a story."
"Jeez, alright," Rick says, and tries to search his brain for something that isn't too risqué. "Um. I guess there was this one time…it was Lori's and my anniversary and she wanted to spice things up. She got these…fluffy, flimsy little things. Black. Fur-lined. We broke 'em about ten seconds in and then I used mine." He bites his lower lip, his blush darkening. "They, uh, they lasted the night, at least."
Merle lets out a low, impressed whistle. "Man, I am learning all sorta things about you, Officer Friendly."
Rick shakes his head and looks at Daryl, startled to see Daryl's eyes are fixed on his face, dark with something Rick can't identify. He swallows and pushes the box over and Daryl's eyes drop to it. He sets his bottle of water down and takes a card.
"Never Have I Ever…" He frowns, swallowing. "I don't like this one."
"Hey, hey! No cheating!" Merle says. "You gotta read it."
Daryl glares at him for a long moment, before he picks the card up again and bites out the words; "Never Have I Ever fantasized about having sex with someone in this room."
"Well, that's ambiguous," Michonne says lightly. "Does it mean having sex with a random person, but in this room in particular? Or one of us?"
"I think you know the answer to that," Maggie says with a grin. She and Glenn both drink, to no one's surprise. Michonne drinks as well, after a moment. Merle does, too, winking at Daryl over the lip of his mug.
Then, Rick and Daryl both drink at the same time. Beth's eyes are wide, looking between them all. "Oh, come on," she says, whining and drumming her feet against the floor. "I can't believe I don't get to know!"
"Well, it's in the rules," Daryl says. "Don't gotta say."
"I think we should make a house rule," Merle says. "If more than three people vote, we get the story."
"No," Daryl hisses. Rick frowns, he knows Daryl is a private person, but his vehemence is a little shocking. Of course, Rick is in no hurry to confess the things he thinks about late at night, when everything is quiet and he can think about dark hair, beautiful blue eyes and shoulders he wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into, but…
"Come on, let's just keep playing," Beth says, sensing the change in mood as well. She drags the box towards her and takes a card. "Never Have I Ever lied to my parents."
Everyone lets out a somewhat guilty, accepting laugh, and drinks. Michonne hands her mug out for a refill that Merle willingly gives her. Rick's head is starting to swim and get fuzzy, the alcohol hitting him hard. It's nice, he never thought he'd have the time or luxury to get drunk again. He wishes, suddenly, that Shane were here. He could fend off Merle and keep them all laughing.
Michonne takes the next card. "Never Have I Ever faked an orgasm."
Maggie and Michonne drink, sharing a grin between themselves. Glenn looks at Maggie, wide-eyed, and she rolls her eyes. "Relax," she says, and puts a hand on Glenn's thigh. "You're very good in bed."
"Ugh," Daryl mutters. "For a family game this ain't very family-friendly."
"This is the Not Safe For Work version," Beth says brightly, and Daryl rolls his eyes. Rick huffs a laugh.
Glenn takes the box next. "Never Have I Ever masturbated to someone in this room," he says, immediately turning red afterwards. "I mean…technically I've never had to, so…" Maggie laughs.
Daryl has gone stone still next to Rick. He's glaring down at his water bottle and, without a word, shoves himself to his feet. He grabs Rick's cup and walks over to Merle's bowl, plunging the cup into it until it's full. He tilts his head back and chugs it down, before setting the cup down with a hard 'thunk'.
"I'm done," he says, and stalks out of the room.
Rick's head is reeling. His wide eyes follow Daryl out of the room, everyone else is sitting in silence. Merle is grinning, like the cat that got the canary. Clearly he knows something no one else does. Michonne clears her throat after a moment.
"Should one of us go after him?" she asks.
Rick nods. "I'll go," he says, standing. His cup is gone, after all. "This was…fun?" he hazards, and then he leaves the room in pursuit of Daryl. He doesn't see where he went, but he knows where Daryl goes when he needs time alone.
He walks out of the prison block and towards the step ladder leading to the room, in time to see Daryl's foot disappear over the edge. "Daryl?" he calls up, and gets no answer. He sighs, and starts to climb. Daryl might drop a rock on his head or threaten him with his crossbow when he gets up there, but at least Rick can say he tried. He doesn't like it when Daryl is upset, and can't help feeling guilty even when he protested playing the game in the first place.
No rocks or arrows come his way, and Rick climbs up onto the roof, a little out of breath and his head spinning from the alcohol and the chill air. Daryl is pacing the roof like an agitated tiger, and he whirls around and stops when he sees Rick standing there.
"Leave me alone," he growls, shoulders tense, hands clenched tightly to fists by his sides.
Rick swallows hard enough that his throat clicks. "You know I don't care, right?" he asks.
Daryl presses his lips together. He doesn't move otherwise. "Don't care about what?" he demands.
"About…anythin' said in there," he says, gesturing back to the floor. "Y'know, fantasizing about guys or whatever. I drank too."
"You drank to protect me," Daryl says, and then shakes his head because he knows how ridiculous that sounds.
"Well, I wasn't lyin' either," Rick replies. Daryl's eyes snap to him. "I didn't drink for anythin' I didn't do."
"So you…" Daryl growls, rubbing his hands over his face. "No. Fuck you, Rick. You can't fuckin'…do this to me right now."
"What are you talkin' about?" Rick asks, taking a tentative step forward.
"You can't -." Daryl cuts himself off with a growl, glaring towards his tent and makeshift nest he'd created for when he wanted to spend nights on the roof. "Y'ain't gay."
"There's a word for people who like both, Daryl," Rick says. "I had a crush on Shane for the longest time before I met Lori. And there've been others, before her. Never thought it was anyone's business after I got married but…" He shrugs one shoulder.
"You like both," Daryl says, wide-eyed. He shakes his head. "You like…fuck."
Rick can see that the alcohol has started to hit him. After so long going without, all of them are pretty much lightweights at this point. He takes another step forward and Daryl is standing so still, it's strange to see him like this. He's still but trembling too, Rick doesn't know what to do, whether he should try and calm his friend down or give him some space.
He licks his lips and takes a breath. "You can tell me," Rick says, and Daryl looks at him, his eyes sharp. "Who it was. I promise I won't tell anyone, but it's clearly botherin' you."
Daryl shakes his head. "I can't tell ya."
"As long as it's not, like, one'a the kids," Rick says, grimacing at the thought. Daryl looks at him, disgusted, and shakes his head. "Who, then? Carol?" But she wasn't in the room at the time. Daryl shakes his head. "Michonne?"
Daryl shakes his head again. "Maggie?" he asks weakly. Another headshake. "Glenn?"
Daryl bites his lower lip and meets Rick's gaze steadily, like a dog unwilling to back down, and Rick knows the answer. "Oh," he says.
"I don't want this to get weird," Daryl whispers, almost too quietly to hear.
"Why would it get weird?" Rick asks. "I would'a…I would'a drank too, if you hadn't taken my cup."
Daryl straightens up, his eyes wide. "What?" he demands.
"Daryl, c'mon," Rick says weakly. But Daryl won't budge. He has years of repression and self-loathing under his belt and Rick can't fight against conviction that strong. He has to be the brave one, here – and he can be. He can be if that's what Daryl needs. He takes another step forward and reaches out and thinks it's a small miracle that Daryl lets Rick's hand land on his bare arm. His skin is cold to the touch, he's shivering in the chilly air.
"You…" Daryl swallows hard and Rick closes the rest of the distance, standing as close to Daryl as he can bare while still watching his face. Daryl's eyes are on his, unable to break the contact there. "You've thought about me?"
Rick nods. "Pretty much every night," he replies, and Daryl's breath leaves him in an explosive gust. "Thought about comin' up here in the middle of the night and makin' a move – more times than I wanna admit – and I didn't 'cause, well…"
"I kept convincin' myself the result would be an arrow in various parts of me," Rick finishes, smiling sheepishly. Daryl huffs. "And I guess I…didn't wanna make it weird."
"Think I managed that just fine on my own," Daryl says quietly, and his eyes drop to Rick's mouth, then go back up. It's a quick gesture and Rick would have missed it if he hadn't been watching Daryl's face so intently.
"So, just to be clear," Rick says, because he's definitely been drinking and so has Daryl and it's not enough that he thinks they're not thinking clearly, but he needs to be sure. He slides his hand to Daryl's neck and rests it there gently and doesn't miss how Daryl shivers under the touch. "I want you. You want me. And if I kiss you right now you aren't gonna shoot me, right?"
"Think I'll shoot ya if ya don't," Daryl growls, and Rick smiles, and Daryl grabs a tight hold of Rick's shirt and yanks him into a kiss. Rick startles, his hand grabbing Daryl's flank tightly to keep himself upright, and he fists a hand in Daryl's hair and tilts his head and their mouths find each other and deepen the kiss immediately.
Daryl gasps against him, a soft moan escaping him and into the air, and Rick growls and kisses him again, tasting cigarettes and prison wine on Daryl's tongue. Daryl's skin is cold but his body is warm, pressed tightly to Rick's chest, and Rick feels the heat in his throat from the alcohol start to flow down his spine like a trickle of water, pooling in his gut.
Daryl pulls away with a gasp, his cheeks and lips pink, eyes glazed and dark. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip and Rick mirrors the action, groaning low in his throat. Daryl's hands haven't moved from his shirt and then he's tugging Rick towards his nest. "Get on your back," he demands, shoving Rick away and Rick stumbles, crawling into the nest and rolling over as Daryl prowls over him and comes to a stop on his thighs, straddling them heavily.
Rick reaches back up and tugs Daryl down into a kiss, growling when Daryl's hands slide his shirt up and press flat against his bare chest. "Fuck," he growls into the kiss, biting Rick's lower lip gently. "I got a whole fuckin' list of shit I wanna do to you, Rick."
"R-really?" Rick asks.
Daryl smirks, pulling back. One of his hands leaves Rick's skin so he can brace himself over Rick, the other cups Rick's jaw and he thumbs at Rick's lower lip, forcing his lips to part. "Yeah," he replies, low and raspy. "And now thanks to that fuckin' game I gotta add handcuffs on there too."
Rick laughs, breathless and dizzy. "You can do whatever the fuck you want to me," he says, and he means it.
Daryl cocks his head to one side, raking his eyes down Rick's body. "You thought about me fuckin' you?" he asks, and Rick bites his lip hard and whimpers, nodding. "Yeah? Thought about it too. Thought about a lot of things."
"Like what?" Rick whispers.
Daryl smirks. "Why don't you just let me have my fun and if it's not fun for you, say so and I'll back off, okay?" Rick nods and Daryl leans down, rewarding him with another deep kiss. "Take your shirt off."
Rick sits up and Daryl leans back, helping him to tug his shirt over his head and pile it on the blankets and clothes behind him. The air is cold and Rick shivers, clinging to Daryl desperately for heat, but outside of the wind the air is warming up in the tent.
Daryl climbs off him and goes to the end of the tent, zipping it shut to seal in the air and keep prying eyes out. He goes to a bag next and rifles through it, grabbing a bright blue bottle of lube. Rick swallows hard and Daryl looks at him for a moment, searching.
Rick nods, and Daryl smiles and sets the bottle down by Rick's hand. He climbs back on top of Rick and fists his hands in Rick's hair, kissing him deeply.
"Tell me what you like," he growls against Rick's mouth, then kisses his jaw, his neck, his hands sliding down Rick's bared chest.
Rick moans, grabbing onto Daryl's back tightly as Daryl grinds against him. He can feel Daryl's erection against his, through their clothes. It's a decadent feeling and Rick's mouth waters, thinking about flattening Daryl to the floor and sucking him down, wrenching every noise and growl he can get out of Daryl until he's spent.
He swallows and tries to think. "I like – I like my hair pulled," he says. In response, Daryl puts a hand in his hair and wraps his fingers through it, tugging on it, and Rick's eyelids flutter. His cock twitches and it's starting to become uncomfortable, trapped in his jeans. "I like nails." Daryl drags his nails down Rick's chest, raising thin red lines, and Rick groans softly against Daryl's shoulder.
"You ever done anythin' with a man?" Daryl rasps.
Rick nods. "Used my mouth," he replies.
Daryl shivers, Rick can feel it travel down his spine and end in a smooth rutting motion against his hips. "You any good at it?"
Rick huffs a laugh. "Want me to show you?"
Daryl pulls back, his eyes dark, the black of his iris swallowing the pretty blue he normally has. He bites his lower lip and rakes his eyes down Rick's chest again, hotter than a brand. "Some other time," he says.
He pulls back and Rick lets out a whimper of loss when his hand leaves Rick's hair. He's sure Daryl notices. His hands go to Rick's gunbelt and he starts to undo it, and slides it from Rick's body and sets it aside. "Take these off, too," he says, tugging on Rick's jeans, and Rick obeys. His hands are shaking with excitement, he can't remember the last time he was this eager to touch someone, and he takes off his jeans and kicks them off to join the bags at the entrance to Daryl's tent. His cock makes an obscene bulge in his underwear and Daryl licks his lips, his eyes dropping to it. He nods to Rick's underwear. "Those too."
"You gonna join me any time soon?" Rick asks.
Daryl smirks at him. "Eventually," he says, and Rick rolls his eyes but takes his underwear off, too, baring himself completely to Daryl's heated gaze. Daryl lets out a huge breath, his hands flattening on Rick's thighs. "Fuck, you're so Goddamn pretty. Ain't fair."
Rick bites his lower lip and reaches out to touch Daryl's clothed chest. "Kiss me," he whispers, and Daryl meets him eagerly, plastering himself over Rick as he pushes Rick back down and kisses him, stealing the air from Rick's lungs. The feeling of Daryl's clothes against his bare skin is strange, the implied power exchange hits Rick hard behind the eyes. He'd had to be in control, be the leader, for so long – but right now Daryl's calling the shots and all Rick has to worry about is enjoying himself. The weightlessness of that feeling is addictive.
Daryl kisses him with the passion of a man about to go to war. He wraps a hand in Rick's hair and tugs it, forcing his head back, and Daryl lowers his mouth to Rick's neck and bites down. Rick twitches, growling softly, instinctively wanting to fight the feeling of teeth at his neck. In this world, bites are dangerous, but Daryl has never made him feel more safe.
Daryl's hand slides down his chest and his fingers gently circle his cock, stroking slowly. Rick whines, arching up, and hisses when his cockhead catches on the rough material of Daryl's shirt. "Daryl, please," he whispers, sliding his hands under Daryl's clothing to spread up his back. Daryl shivers, the bite turning into a bruise as he starts to suck at that spot, laying a dark mark to Rick's neck.
"You want me to fuck you, Rick?" Daryl whispers, tugging on Rick's hair again.
Rick nods, swallowing hard. Daryl traces the movement of the tendon in his neck with his tongue. "Yeah," he groans, and lifts his head when Daryl pulls back.
Daryl presses his lips together and nods. His hands move away and he tugs his vest off, then his shirt, exposing his chest. Rick's stomach goes tight, his eyes greedily taking in Daryl's strong shoulders, the pretty arch of his neck, the way his flat stomach tapers to a small 'v' that disappears into his jeans. He's lean and strong and Rick wants to kiss and taste every inch of him.
Daryl bites his lip and undoes his belt, pulling the halves free and letting them hang. "I changed my mind," he says, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans and tugging them apart too. Rick can see a patch of dark hair, teasing him with the promise of what else Daryl's jeans are hiding. "I want you to suck me."
Rick nods eagerly, pushing himself upright and turning so that he's kneeling in front of Daryl. He pulls Daryl into a kiss, one hand flattening on Daryl's throat, the other reaching into his jeans to wrap around his cock and pull it free. Daryl isn't wearing underwear and Rick's mouth goes dry when he feels Daryl in his hand, hard and thick.
Daryl growls, fucking into Rick's hand for a moment, before he tugs Rick back by the hair and tugs his jeans down to his thighs with his other hand, giving Rick room to touch him more. "Go on," he says, challenging. Rick isn't sure if it's the alcohol, or now that he has Rick in this secret, sacred place, he's no longer afraid, but he's commanding and in control now. Rick likes him like this.
He steals one more kiss and then sinks to his elbows, until Daryl's cock is level with his mouth. He guides Daryl's cock into his mouth and then lets go, letting Daryl sink into his mouth with a low groan. Daryl's hands go to his hair, both of them fisting tight and holding Rick still as he starts to thrust. They're shallow, slow things at first, getting Rick used to feeling him.
"Fuck, that's real good, Rick," he breathes, and he sounds as shaken and affected as Rick does and it makes his chest get tight. His neck starts to hurt after a moment but he wouldn't stop for anything at this point. He sucks Daryl down as deeply as he can, groaning when there's still an inch or two left when he starts to choke. He resolves, then, that he'll be able to take Daryl all the way at some point. It's a goal of his now, and Rick likes goals. Objectives.
Rick hums, curling his tongue under the head of Daryl's cock and letting saliva pool in his mouth so his mouth is as hot and wet as he can make it. Daryl growls, petting one hand down Rick's neck and curling his nails against Rick's back, dragging up whenever Rick lets Daryl thrust all the way in.
He's out of practice, he knows he is, but Daryl doesn't seem to care. He uses Rick's mouth casually, like they've been doing this for years, and Rick is so hard it's starting to hurt. Daryl fucks in deep, until Rick starts to choke, and then pulls out all the way. Rick gasps, swallowing hard and licking his lips, and tilts his head up when Daryl tugs on his hair.
Daryl kisses him deeply, cradling Rick's sore jaw, thumb rubbing over the corner gently. "I wanna fuck you," he growls. "You gonna let me?"
Rick swallows hard, nodding. Daryl smiles and rests their foreheads together, still gently massaging Rick's jaw. "Too fuckin' good for me, Rick."
Rick doesn't know how he can possibly think that. He's about to say so, but Daryl kisses him again and steals the words away. "Get on your back," Daryl says, and Rick hurries to obey, spreading himself out for Daryl's gaze as Daryl pulls his jeans off and grabs the bottle of lube. "So you've never let a guy fuck you before?"
Rick shakes his head. "I, ah, use my fingers on myself sometimes."
"Thinkin' about me?" Daryl asks, and Rick knows he's teasing, but he replies honestly anyway;
Daryl goes still, regarding him with a startled look. "Really?" he asks, and Rick sees the hesitance there again, springing up. Like he still doesn't quiet believe that Rick wants him back the same way. And maybe he doesn't – Rick has been pretty passive up to this point.
Rick sits up and tugs on Daryl's hand, forcing him to crawl over Rick and kiss him. "The first time I thought about it, we were still on the farm," he says. Daryl lets out a shaky exhale and pulls back. He opens the bottle of lube and squirts some onto his fingers and Rick lays back, spreading his legs.
"You're kiddin'," Daryl murmurs.
"No," Rick replies, shaking his head. "Came outta fuckin' nowhere, too. You had killed a deer and were carryin' it all by yourself and I couldn't shake the sight of it." Daryl huffs, sliding into place between Rick's legs.
"Gonna go slow," he murmurs. "Tell me if I need to stop."
"I will," Rick replies. "I trust you."
Daryl's other hand goes tight on his thigh, like he has to steel himself from the blow of Rick's words. His breathing is unsteady and loud, the air turning unbearably hot in the tent, and Rick thinks he might explode if Daryl doesn't touch him soon.
Then, one of Daryl's fingers presses against his hole, slick with lube, and Rick sighs and does his best to relax, letting his body go lax and accepting Daryl's finger inside of him. "Keep talkin'," Daryl whispers. "Wanna hear all the things you thought about."
"There was – fuck." Rick moans, tilting his head back as Daryl presses his finger in deep, sliding in easily like Rick has been taking Daryl all his life. His legs tremble and spread more, eager to give Daryl as much room as he can. "One time, 'tween now and the farm, we were all bathin' in the river and you didn't take your clothes off but I could see fuckin' everythin'. You looked so Goddamn good, all wet. Your eyes -."
He cuts himself off, swallowing hard, and Daryl growls and presses in another finger, impatience in his voice and his touch. "What about my eyes?" he asks.
"I, I can't explain it," Rick says softly. "I always know when you're watchin' me. I feel like I can tell you stuff without sayin' anythin'. They're so fuckin' gorgeous, Daryl, you have no idea."
Daryl smiles, this soft and settled thing. "So are yours," he replies, lifting his gaze to meet Rick's. Rick licks his lips and puts a hand on his cock, stroking slowly when Daryl starts to thrust his fingers. He's curling them up, trying to find that sensitive spot in Rick that he's never been able to find himself, but he knows it's there.
"I want to do this every day," Rick confesses.
Daryl huffs. "Good," he replies, pressing his fingers deep. Rick gasps, his hand tightening on his cock as he arches up, Daryl's fingers pressing against something that makes the heat in his spine flare outward and cover every part of his body. "'Cause I'm gonna."
Rick laughs, the sound turning into a choked-off moan as Daryl thrusts his fingers in deeply again, touching his prostate, and then he pulls back and works in a third. Rick is trembling, his heart hammering in his chest and it's like there's a rushing sound in his ears, blocking out everything that isn't Daryl, isn't his breathing or his voice or the sound of his fingers sinking deep into Rick. Rick thinks the prison siren might go off and he would be none the wiser.
Then, Daryl pulls his fingers out and spreads the rest of the lube on his cock. "You ready for me?" he asks, and Rick nods, his mouth dry, his hands shaking. He catches Daryl when Daryl covers him, spreads his hands on Daryl's chest and kisses him deeply. He wraps his legs around Daryl's thighs and groans against Daryl's mouth when Daryl reaches down and touches his cock, strokes it once, and then guides it against Rick's hole and starts to push it inside.
"Fuck, fuck," Rick gasps, wincing because Daryl's cock is thicker than his fingers, Rick's body clenches up, trying to fight him, and Daryl growls, biting Rick's bared neck and tugging on his hair.
"Let me in," Daryl says, his voice rasping against Rick's ear and sending a shiver down his spine. Rick puts his hands on Daryl's back, against those strong shoulders he spent way too many hours thinking about, and forces himself to relax enough to let Daryl sink in further. "That's it. Good – that's real good, Rick. Shit."
Rick's throat is tight and he wants to say something, anything at all, but he can't find the words. Daryl sinks into him all the way and he's big enough that Rick feels split apart, his body forced to part and make way for Daryl. Daryl is shaking when he bottoms out and goes still, breathing hard. Rick clenches up around him and Daryl jerks, biting down on Rick's neck.
"Tell me when I can move," he murmurs.
Rick pets a hand through his hair and kisses his red neck. "Fuck me," he demands, and Daryl shivers again and starts to move. His thrusts are deliberate and steady, Rick can feel every muscle in him dedicated to the sole purpose of fucking every coherent thought and word out and Rick and Rick thinks he damn well might be able to do it.
It feels fucking good. Having Daryl cover him like this, with his growl in Rick's ear and his hands desperately fisting the bedding by Rick's head, his heat and his weight shoving Rick into the ground hard enough that if they were on a bed they might break it. Rick drags his nails up Daryl's back and Daryl groans.
"That's it, yeah, fuckin' mark me up," he demands, fucking into Rick's willing body as brutally as he dares. Rick takes the order to heart, raking his nails across Daryl's back and lifting his head to bite down on the tender spot where his neck becomes his shoulder. Daryl moans, pulling back and shoving his hands behind Rick's knees, forcing him to bend more so that he can get more power behind his thrusts.
Rick can see the shine of sweat on Daryl's skin, feel it when he touches Daryl's chest. He bites his lower lip and reaches down to fist his cock, groaning when the heat in his gut flares and tightens. "Daryl," he murmurs, and Daryl nods, breathing heavily. Then, he shifts his weight and goes to his knees, pulling Rick into his lap and thrusting deeply and Rick feels that spot inside of him get hit again and he arches up with a loud moan – louder than he meant to make it, but then Daryl goes tense and shivers and Rick finds that he doesn't give a shit how loud he is, if Daryl reacts like that.
"Fuckin' love hearin' ya," Daryl whispers, like he can read Rick's thoughts. "Gonna make you scream for me, fuck your throat 'til you can't talk and wreck your voice when I fuck ya."
"That on your list?" Rick gasps.
Daryl nods, biting his lower lip. "Number three," he growls.
"What's number two?"
"Makin' you come so many times it hurts, 'til you're beggin' me to stop," Daryl replies without hesitation. Rick's eyes widen and he moans, his hand tightening on his cock and stroking more quickly. He knows Daryl is getting close, it's been a long time for both of them. "That's 'fore I even get in ya. Gonna make it hurt. Don't want you walkin' right by the time I'm done with you."
"Fuck," Rick groans, and puts a hand in his own hair, tugging sharply since Daryl's hands are occupied. "And what's – what's number one?" he asks, not even sure what could top either of those things.
Daryl bares his teeth, tilting his head back. "I wanna come in ya," he says, then looks down at Rick and meets his eyes, a predator staring him down. "You gonna let me?"
Rick nods, frantically. "Yes," he says. He remembers how good it had felt whenever Lori let him come inside her, or how it felt to spill down someone's throat. He wants to give that to Daryl – he wants to feel it for himself, what it's like when a man collapses and goes limp over him and gives him everything. "Fuck, yeah, do it. Please. I want you to. Please."
"I'm gonna," Daryl says, low with promise. He lets go of Rick's legs and pulls back enough that he can flatten himself between Rick's thighs, rolling his hips to get himself as deep inside of Rick as he can. He pulls Rick's hand from his hair and puts his own there instead, pulling until it hurts.
He kisses Rick, they're both too out of breath to make it last but Daryl does it anyway, until Rick's lungs are burning from lack of oxygen and his head feels dizzy and raw. He touches Daryl's neck, flattening his hand there when he feels Daryl's breath hitch, and Daryl's other hand is pressed tight to his hip, keeping him still as Daryl keeps fucking him as fast and hard as he can.
"Gonna come," Rick whispers, and Daryl growls and doesn't relent. His cock brushes against Rick's prostate again, and again, and Rick feels himself start to bear down. His body is helpless against Daryl's onslaught, a slave to his dirty promises and his confident ownership and the way everything in him is dedicated to ruining Rick from the inside out.
He comes with his mouth on Daryl's neck, sucking a dark mark to match the one Daryl gave him, and then Daryl lets out a low, unintelligible curse and fucks in harshly, once, twice – and then he goes still, his nails digging into Rick's hip hard enough to hurt, and he's coming with a rough, loud groan.
He starts to move again soon after, chasing the tightly of Rick's spasming body around his cock, and then he covers Rick and kisses his slack mouth, pets a gentle hand through his hair. Rick moans, twitching weakly whenever Daryl fucks him just right, and Daryl bites his lower lip gently, earning another shiver from Rick.
Rick wraps a hand around the nape of his neck and squeezes and that makes Daryl finally go still, resting heavily on Rick as he fights to catch his breath.
He pulls out slowly, hissing with discomfort, and collapses on his side next to Rick, breathing hard, his cheeks red from exertion and lingering arousal. It's spread down his chest, a pretty stain that Rick wants to kiss so he does, lowering his mouth to Daryl's chest and kissing over his heart with a soft hum.
Daryl's hand goes back to his hair and he huffs a laugh when Rick raises his eyes. "I fuckin' hate Never Have I Ever," he says.
Rick grins. "I said it would be a bad idea to play."
Daryl rolls his eyes and sits up. Rick follows suit, licking his lips and thankful beyond belief when Daryl grabs a bottle of water from his bag and hands it to him. He's sweating and thirsty and he finishes half he bottle in one go. Daryl has one of his own and he's drinking readily from it as well, gasping when he's done.
Rick rubs a hand over his face and sighs. "I'm sorry Merle's an ass," he says, and Daryl hums.
"Should be used to it by now," he replies, taking another drink.
"But…I mean, I'm happy with how things turned out," Rick adds. Daryl regards him, his eyes returning to that normal gorgeous blue. He looks so good like this, relaxed and fine and fucked-out and Rick wants to keep him like this for the rest of their lives.
Daryl smirks after a moment. "I meant what I said," he says. "All of it."
"So did I."
"Good," Daryl says, nodding. "Guess that's all we need to say about it, then."
"Yeah." Rick smiles, settling into place, and takes another drink of water. He looks at the bottle and grins at Daryl. "Never Have I Ever fucked someone in this tent," he says.
Daryl laughs. "I'll drink to that."