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Confessions & Handcuffs

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Rick knows they agreed not to talk about it. They've never had to before – their conversations are quiet and private, a shared look, a small nod, a subtle twitch of the fingers for direction or leadership. Rick honestly thinks that he and Daryl could live the rest of their lives in total silence, and that would be okay.

But he needs to talk about this. He just has to understand where the boundaries are, what they're calling it. He needs to know if Daryl would welcome his touch out in the open, if he'll growl and hiss at anyone who spends too long looking at the bruises on his neck, if he will let his affection for Rick curb his instincts and change his way of thinking.

Rick knows his will change. Now that he knows Daryl wants him, that his desperate fantasies about Daryl are reciprocated and then some, he finds himself constantly needing to know where Daryl is, beyond the responsibility of making sure his people are safe. He gets worried when he wakes up and finds Daryl has gone out to check the snares, paces the yard under the pretense of culling walkers until Daryl returns.

Nothing has to change. Rick knows that. He and Daryl are adults, and if Rick starts spending more nights up on the roof with Daryl, or Daryl starts to sleep in his cell more often than not, those are changes he can accommodate and is more than willing to without comment. If that's all Daryl wants – some quick release when the mood strikes him – then Rick can definitely give him that.

He just needs to know.

Lori had always said he never talked about his feelings. To this day, he knows she was right, but the problem wasn't that Rick didn't want to talk about them. He just always knew that his feelings were…not one-sided, but more intense than he felt comfortable putting on her. Rick doesn't like to be a burden. He's sure that's true of most people, but Rick knows enough about himself to know that his love can border on obsession. When he'd first met Lori, the only thing that had mattered to him was getting her name, then asking her out. Then, soon after, marrying her. He'd loved Shane so much that even now, when he remembers that Shane isn't here, he has to take a quiet moment and calm himself down.

And Daryl…

Daryl is skittish when it comes to that. He's had to be, and Rick doesn't blame him in the slightest. He gives his affection out like rations, saves his smiles and his humor for moments when those he's around need them. Rick isn't sure if he should call it love yet, he's not sure there's room in the world anymore for something so soft except when it comes to children, but everything else? He feels it for Daryl. He knows he does.

So, in this particular case, Daryl's silence is driving him crazy. It's been a week since their game of Never Have I Ever turned into this, and since then Daryl hasn't given any indication that he wants it to continue, despite what he'd said in the tent. They'd said they didn't need to talk about it, and Rick had agreed, but he's a fucking liar and he needs to know if Daryl even feels a fraction of what he does in return.

He's tending their meagre garden when he feels Daryl's eyes on him. He doesn't look up from where he's on his knees, pruning the tomato plants of dead leaves and weeds. They're growing well, it's a promising start.

Rick has his shirt off in the sweltering heat, and his skin is tingling in the way that precedes a sunburn. He's due for a break, but he wants to finish this before he does.

He stands and grabs his water bottle from where it's perched beside his shirt on the fence and takes a drink. By the time he's done, Daryl is at his side, his crossbow ever-present and slung across his shoulders. He looks gorgeous in the sunlight, his dark hair sweeping across his forehead, his cheeks pink from the heat.

Rick gives him a nod and Daryl replies in kind. His eyes rake Rick up and down, quick and brazen, and then he clears his throat and rests against the fence, his eyes out on the walls. Rick can see the faded bruise that he put on the side of Daryl's neck, and he swallows and takes another drink of water.

"There's less of 'em today," Daryl says, lifting his chin towards the wall. Indeed, there are. Between Rick's obsessive culling of the walkers and the recent rains turning the ground mucky, the walkers are moving more slowly and there's more bodies than live ones now.

He grunts in reply, licking his lips, and sets the water bottle down. He tugs off his gloves and places them on the fence beside his shirt and his gun belt and joins Daryl in staring out at the wall. He wants to put his shirt back on, curious what Daryl would do. If he would even notice, or say anything. "Carol told me your haul was good this mornin'."

Daryl hums. "It'll be deer season soon," he replies, and Rick's eyes flash. He wants to ask if Daryl is thinking about when Rick told him about the first time he thought about Daryl like that. A deer slung across his shoulders at the farm.

Rick's eyes fall to Daryl's shoulders and he bites his lower lip. His mouth is dry.

Daryl turns his head to meet Rick's eyes and Rick feels a phantom tenderness in his mouth, remembers how sensitive his lips had been after he'd sucked Daryl's cock and submitted to Daryl's biting kisses. He shivers and looks down.

Daryl sighs. "I guess there's more we gotta say," he finally says, and Rick looks back up, eyebrows raised. "For the sake of fairness."

"I don’t want things to get weird," Rick says.

"They're already weird, Rick," Daryl replies with a roll of his eyes. He huffs and puts his gaze on the wall again. "I fucked you. Best damn sex of my life." His voice is hard, bitter almost, and Rick has a fleeting thought that maybe Rick and Daryl haven't been talking, but that doesn't mean no one else has. He thinks of Merle and swallows a growl.

"I meant what I said," Rick says. "Not just pillow talk, or whatever you wanna call it. I've felt…the way I felt…for a long fuckin' time now."

"I know," Daryl replies. "You're a good actor. Fuckin' terrifyin'."

"Lori always said I never talked about my feelings," Rick says, sighing. He rubs a hand over his mouth and up through his sweaty hair, pushing it back from his face. "That wasn't fair to her, and it ain't fair to you."

"For the sake of fairness, then," Daryl repeats. "Talk."

The wall of restraint and suppression is back up around Daryl. Rick can see it like a psychical thing, tightening his shoulders and drawing his mouth into a thin line. Rick has to take the first step again, and he can do it. "I want you to fuck me again," he says.

Daryl hums, the barest hint of a smile on his face, and he looks down. "Okay."

Rick blinks. "Just like that?"

"Just gotta ask, Rick," Daryl replies. He straightens, finally, and turns to face Rick fully.

Rick licks his lips. "…You know, you can just ask me too, right?" he says weakly. It feels like an important distinction to make. If his time as a cop taught him anything, it's that the devil is in the details. This isn't a one-way street. Daryl cocks his head to one side, like he senses it too. "Ain't gonna say 'No'."

"You'd let me?" Daryl asks weakly.

"I want you to," Rick says. He wants so desperately to reach out and touch Daryl but settles for putting his hand on the fence instead, knuckles turning white. Another distinction. "That's what I've been trying to tell ya. You can do whatever you want to me."

Daryl's eyes flash and he presses his lips together. "Anything?"

"Shane and Lori did," Rick says. "Maggie and Glenn can. Why can't we?"

Daryl's jaw clenches. "You know why."

Rick frowns, then, through gritted teeth; "Merle?"

"I know it shouldn't bother me," Daryl says, rolling his eyes and huffing, his shoulders sagging. "He's known as long as I have. Longer, maybe. How I felt about you. And it shouldn't bother me, but it does."

"What kinda shit has he been sayin'?"

Daryl growls, raising his eyes again. Challenging. "Don't need you to fight my battles for me."

"That ain't what I'm tryin' to do," Rick replies, shaking his head. He raises his hand and gestures between them. "I'm just tryin' to say that I don't care. I don't care what he says, or what anyone else says. I've been attracted to guys since before I can remember, and I know you didn't get the luxury of being open about it. And I'm sorry for that, really I am, but just because you couldn't then doesn't mean you can't now. And – and if you're not ready, that's fine too, really, but I just -. Fuck." He runs a hand through his hair again. "I just need to know if you want this half as bad as I do. I can't fuckin' think about anythin' else."

Daryl swallows hard enough that Rick hears his throat click. "You been thinkin' about me?" he asks, and he sounds just as shocked and vulnerable as he did the first time. Maybe it was the alcohol, making him bold before. Maybe the secrecy. Rick has no idea how he can doubt any of it.

"Every second," Rick confesses, and it's not a lie. He finally lowers his gaze, unable to hold Daryl's for a moment longer. "Every night. Please, Daryl. Just…just tell me where I stand. Whatever it is, I can accept it. Whatever you want, I'll do."

He can feel Daryl's eyes on him, but he can't lift his head. The silence between them stretches on, until it turns uncomfortable, then chafing, then abrasive. Finally, Rick sighs, because he figures that's answer enough. He lets go of the fence and turns away to grab his gear.

"Hey." Daryl circles the fence and catches him at his gun belt, his hand landing on Rick's sun-warm arm. Rick meet his gaze and Daryl bites his lower lip, before he sighs. "Let…let me think about it," he says, and Rick nods. "I want you. You and me through anythin'. That won't change. But the rest of it…I gotta think." Rick nods again, trying to keep his expression neutral. "I'll have an answer for you by dinner."

"Okay," Rick replies, his voice rough, and Daryl nods and lets him go. He turns and practically flees up the small hill to the prison, and Rick forces himself not to watch him go.

He puts his gloves back on and kneels amongst the tomatoes, and tries not to think about anything.

 

 

The day Carl was born had been one of the longest and most harrowing experiences of his life. He'd come into the word on a bright Tuesday afternoon, healthy and screaming, but Lori had been in labor for the better part of a day and then in the end, they'd had to cut him out of her. Rick remembers how frantic he'd been, worried and pacing with only Shane to calm him down through the last hour or so.

This feels like that day. But Shane isn't here, and Rick doesn't have anyone else to talk to. Carol talks to him about their water supply and Michonne mentions they need to make a run for more toilet paper and shampoo. Glenn makes the same remark about the amount of walkers at the walls, something like hope in his voice. No one talks about Daryl, and Rick doesn't see Daryl until dinner.

Until it is dinner time, and then Daryl is there. Rick feels him in the room like sunshine. Daryl looks as he always does, relaxed and fine as he takes a bowl from Carol and accepts her serving of rabbit soup. He sits across from Rick at one of the tables and tucks into his food the same way Merle eats – prison-style, one arm up around his bowl. Rick wants to reach out and touch him.

He doesn't. Herschel is in his cell, napping with Judith. Carl is with Maggie on the lookout tower. Glenn is in deep conversation with Merle and Michonne about the facts versus fiction of making moonshine in a prison toilet.

Rick remembers the taste of Merle's concoction and swallows.

When dinner is over, the shift changes. Carol goes to the watchtower with Glenn and Maggie stays, and the kids come back down. Daryl hasn't said a word the entire time and Rick is practically buzzing with anxiety.

Before he can say anything, Beth comes in with that damn box again. "Ready for round two?" she asks, a challenging grin on her face when she looks at Merle and Michonne.

Merle crows with delight, slapping his stump on the table loud enough to make Rick jump. "Heck yeah, baby farmgirl!" he says. "So long as my lil bro don't pussy out on us again."

Daryl lifts his head, the first flash of emotion striking behind his eyes. Rick fights back a shiver. Daryl looks at Merle for a long moment.

Then, he smiles. "Yeah," he says, and his eyes move to Rick. Swift and meaningful. Rick frowns. "I'll play."

"You in, Officer Friendly?"

"You're not gonna make us drink more of that shit, are you?"

"Hey, I perfected the recipe!" Merle says, looking offended. Beth lets out a delighted giggle and Merle stands, sauntering out of the room to grab his repurposes barrel where he brews his drink.

Carl grimaces. "I'm gonna go to bed," he says. Rick doesn't argue with him, but he turns and catches Carl for a hug and ruffles his hair when Carl hugs him back. "Night, dad."

"Night, Carl," he replies. Michonne smiles slyly and scoots down to sit next to Rick. Glenn sits across from her, then Beth and Merle make up the last of the six.

Beth opens the box. "We'll just start from the other side," she says, and no one cares enough to argue. Rick shoots another glance Daryl's way, somewhat nervous, and is surprised when Daryl winks at him. It's a quick gesture and it makes something in Rick's stomach clench up, nothing to do with the thought of Merle's alcohol or the food. He's glad he can blame the red in his cheeks on the heat.

Merle comes back with his bowl and mugs, and pours some for everyone. "Don't tell yer sis," he says with a conspiratorial grin, handing Beth a mug.

Rick clears his throat. "I'm not sure -."

"We won't let her have more than a glass," Michonne says, and Rick is certain that a glass is more than enough to get Beth drunk, but he bites his tongue because this is the first time he's seen Daryl smiling in a while and he doesn't want to ruin the mood.

He makes a show of rolling his eyes and accepting it. The alcohol smells less like paint thinner, at least.

"Alright, me first," Beth says, and takes the first card. "Oh, weird, I guess you can write on some of these," she says, and frowns down at the chicken-scratch handwriting on the card she's holding. "Never Have I Ever…had sex outside."

Merle laughs and takes a drink. So does Daryl, and Michonne. "You know, if a lot of these are going to be around sex, I don't think we have anythin' to worry about with farmgirl here, Officer Friendly," Merle says with a lecherous grin.

"Small blessings, then," Rick says when Beth's cheeks turn pink.

Merle reaches out and takes the next card. "Never Have I Ever eaten food out of a trash can."

"Aww, that's not fair!" Michonne complains. They all drink, because frankly food is food nowadays. The alcohol tastes sweeter now, but Rick feels like that's to cover up the fact that it's stronger. His head already feels like it's swimming.

Glenn takes the next card. "Never Have I Ever…Jeez, who wrote these?" He grimaces. "Never Have I Ever called out the wrong name during sex."

No one drinks. Rick clears his throat. "Does it count if it's…like, part of roleplay?" he asks.

Merle stares at him, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. He looks like he's just found a stash of his favorite drug. "Holy shit. Yes it counts!" he says, slamming his hand on the table, and Rick rolls his eyes and drinks. "Tell us, tell us!"

"Yeah, Rick," Daryl murmurs, his voice a low drawl. Rick bites his lower lip and tastes the sweet drink on his tongue. His eyes are dark and so fucking pretty. "Tell us."

"Well, okay, fine. Um. So…Lori sometimes liked to pretend that we were strangers and having a one-night stand. I'd make up all kinds of names and aliases for her. And one time she had this wig on and…she really went all out. Fake tattoo sleeves, big gold hoops, blonde wig. Said her name was 'Stella', pretended she was an exotic dancer."

"Damn," Glenn says, his eyes wide.

"Didn't think you guys had it in you!" Merle crows, beyond delighted. "Man, we gotta make this game a tradition or something."

"I agree," Daryl says, and his eyes are dark and his smile is lazy, he's grinning and his voice is almost a purr. Rick's cheeks are burning and he looks down, shifting his weight in his seat. "Alright, my turn," he says, and grabs the next card. "Never Have I Ever…" His eyes flash to Rick's, his smile widens. "Had sex in a tent."

Rick's eyes widen. He swallows. Daryl sets the card down and they both drink.

Rick takes the next card hurriedly. He tries to speak but the alcohol is sitting right at the back of his throat, and he clears it, swallowing hard. It's a handwritten one. "Never Have I Ever gotten a facial."

Daryl's eyes feel like they're burning into him. He doesn't dare raise his eyes. "What, like at a spa?" Beth asks, and Rick wants to laugh because no, he's pretty sure that's not what that means.

Michonne presses her lips together, humming. No one wants to explain it to her. "Sure," she says. "Like at a spa."

"Oh! I've done that," Beth says, and drinks. Rick takes a drink too, and so does Michonne, but the adults know that that's…not what they mean by that. Daryl's eyes flash and he shifts his weight in his seat. His fingers are idly stroking the handle of his mug and it occurs to Rick, very suddenly, that they never questioned…who might have written these extra ones.

He meets Daryl's eyes, questioning. Daryl answers it and Rick feels hot for an entirely different reason.

Daryl is adding things to his list.

Michonne takes the next card. "Never Have I Ever had sex in a car."

That, at least, Rick has never done. He breathes a sigh of relief, but doesn't miss how Daryl's mouth twitches at the corner. Merle drinks. "Got head behind a Taco Bell after a party," he says. "Chick was hot as fuck. Blowjob-perfect lips."

Beth's cheeks are burning and she giggles. "That's so dirty," she says, her eyes bright. The alcohol has already started to affect her. It's affecting everyone, Rick is sure.

Beth takes another card. "Never Have I Ever masturbated in the shower," she says. Everyone drinks, including her. Merle winks at her and she blushes harder and pushes the box towards him.

"Never Have I Ever…" Merle begins, stretching out the 'R', "sucked a guy's dick."

Rick blushes. He and Michonne drink. Merle grins at Rick. "Man, I really think we should instigate my house rule," he says.

"Which one?" Michonne asks. Her words are starting to slur.

"Where if three people vote, you gotta tell the story anyway," he says. "I'm dyin' to learn more about our good ol' true blue policeman over there."

"I'm okay with that," Daryl says. Rick looks at him, his eyes wide. He doesn't understand – Daryl had been so reserved about everything before, but he looks almost ravenous now.

He'd said Rick would have his answer by dinner. Is this his answer? Does he want Rick to go public with it?

Rick swallows. "Starting with the next cards," he says. Daryl cocks his head to one side and smiles. "I'm okay with it if everyone else is."

"Sure," Michonne says with a shrug, and Glenn and Beth nod as well.

"Excellent," Merle purrs, and slides the box to Glenn.

"Never Have I Ever had phone sex or sexted," he says, and takes a drink. Beth does, too, and Rick looks at her with wide eyes.

"He was my boyfriend in high school!" Beth says frantically, telling the story before anyone can demand it of her. "It was a few texts, I got embarrassed after he started getting' real dirty, but we did it a couple times, that's it! Don't tell Maggie!"

"Hey, what happens in prison," Merle says, grinning.

Daryl takes the next card. He barely reads it, and Rick is starting to think that he planned this. "Never Have I Ever had sex on the roof," he says. He meets Rick's eyes in challenge. He and Rick both drink.

"I want the story," Merle says immediately, and Michonne, Glenn, and Beth all nod.

Daryl smiles. "There was this guy," he begins, his accent thick. He's practically purring, smiling down at his mug and idly spinning it around. "Prettiest blue eyes you've ever seen. I was on the roof, he was on the roof. Wanted to fuck him for a long time. Didn't think he was interested, though." He shrugs. Everyone is riveted by his story. Hell, Rick is enthralled, desperate to know what Daryl has to say about him even though he knows the story too. "Y'know how married guys are. Off-limits, straight-laced." He pauses and Michonne makes an impatient noise. "Well, turns out he was very interested. Best sex of my life." He pauses again, lifts his eyes, and grins, taking another drink. "How about you, Rick?"

Rick doesn't know if he can breathe. "Same here," he says weakly. "Didn't even know he was into guys. Never wanted to make a move. Didn't wanna fuck up what we had. What, ah, he and I had." He clears his throat. "But it was fuckin' perfect. I still think about it."

There's silence for a long while. Then, Michonne whispers; "Does that count?"

Rick frowns, finally pulling his gaze from Daryl's. "What?"

Merle makes a show of taking out an old, wrinkled piece of paper from his shirt pocket. "Dinner on the sixth day," he says. "Michonne, that was you."

"Fuck yeah!" Michonne says, giving a single fist pump. She grins at Rick and kisses his cheek. "Thank you for winning my bet for me, darling!"

"…What?" Rick asks weakly.

"We had a pool to see how long it would take for you two to just come out with it," Glenn says, smiling sheepishly. He finishes his cup and slides it to the center of the table. "I lost by a day. Damn it."

"Better than Maggie, she thought it would take another month or so," Beth says, smiling.

"Holy shit," Rick mutters, sitting back and running a hand through his hair. Daryl looks amused, and relieved, and a whole host of other things Rick can't decipher right now. "Y'all knew?"

Glenn grimaces. "I mean, don't feel bad about it or anythin', Rick, but you're kinda loud."

"And kinda obvious," Michonne adds. She rolls her eyes and nudges Beth. "Take note, kid: men are fuckin' useless when their downstairs brain gets involved."

Beth giggles.

"Oh my God," Rick says again. He looks at Daryl. "Did you know about this?"

Daryl shrugs. "I knew they knew," he says. "Didn't know there was a bet involved."

Rick isn't sure whether to be annoyed, embarrassed, or relieved. So he settles for a mix of all three. "And…you're all…okay with it?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" Beth asks, the question too genuine to be sarcastic. "You and Daryl are great together."

Rick's head is swimming. He clears his throat. "Well. Okay." Shit, then. And here he was worried for nothing. At least about how the group might take it. Times had changed, certainly, but it was still Georgia.

"Well, I think that's a good place to end things," Michonne says, standing. "I'm gonna go gloat."

"I'm gonna go…find Maggie," Glenn says, clearing his throat.

Beth and Merle stand and leave as well, leaving Daryl and Rick alone in the room. Daryl shakes his head and finishes his drink, before he gathers the cards and puts them back in the box. "Did you write those?" Rick asks.

"A couple of 'em," he replies, without shame.

Rick stands and Daryl meets his eyes. He doesn't know what to do. He wants to grab Daryl, and kiss him, and put his hand on Daryl's neck and watch Daryl's eyes go dark. He wants to ask what it all means – but he knows what it means now. Daryl went public for him. Daryl wants him.

"I didn't know how else to do it," Daryl murmurs, like an apology. Rick extracts himself from the table and circles it so they're standing face to face. "Ain't good about big gestures and shit, not gonna start writin' poems or whatever else, but our people know, and you know. And -."

"And that's all we gotta say about it, right?" Rick finishes.

Daryl smiles, and nods.

"You gonna let me kiss you when there are other people around?" Rick asks.

Daryl nods again, licking his lips. "Yeah," he adds, for good measure. "Gonna make damn sure everyone knows who you belong to."

Rick smiles, his exhale leaving him in a heavy sigh. "You can do whatever you want to me," he says, and it feels like it's the final time he has to say it, because Daryl knows.

"Got somethin' very specific in mind this time," Daryl replies. He holds out his hand and Rick takes it. "Come with me. And we gotta find your handcuffs."

 

 

They climb to the roof and into Daryl's tent, hardly parting except to scale the ladder. Daryl closes the tent behind them and takes Rick's cuffs from his hands, setting them to one side. He hasn't put the bottle of lube away since the last time Rick was up here. "Get naked," Daryl growls, and Rick hurries to obey.

Daryl stays clothed, but sheds his vest and puts it to one side. When Rick is naked, Daryl shivers, his hands flattening on Rick's pale thighs. Rick moans quietly, reaching up and putting a hand in Daryl's hair and pulling him into a kiss. Daryl meets him eagerly, cupping the back of Rick's head and tugging on his hair. Rick moans against his mouth, louder now, and parts his lips to let Daryl's tongue sink into him.

Then Daryl pulls back and climbs to sit next to him. "Lay down," he orders. "Hands above your head."

Rick obeys, and he grabs the handcuffs and pushes some of his blankets aside to expose a water pipe above Rick's head. Rick laughs, breathlessly, and watches as Daryl puts the key in his pocket and fixes his handcuffs around his wrists.

"Tighter," he says, rolling his fists. "I can get my hand outta the left one if it's not tight enough."

Daryl pauses, looking down at him. It's dark outside and Rick can barely see his face, but he hears the punched-out gasp of arousal he lets out. "You've…you've worn these before?" he asks weakly.

Rick nods. "Said I did, last time," he says. "Lori and I used 'em."

"…On her," Daryl says.

Rick grins. "Never said she was the one wearin' em."

"Fuck." Daryl reaches down and squeezes his cock tightly through his jeans. The sound he lets out is almost pained. "So she -?"

"Yeah," Rick says, his voice a low growl. "She liked to tie me up and make me beg."

"Oh my God, Rick," Daryl says. He tightens the cuffs and lets Rick tug on them. Then, once he's pleased they're going to stay, he leans down and fists his hands in Rick's hair, tugging sharply, and kisses his gasping mouth. "That's so fuckin' hot."

Rick moans when Daryl touches him, slides a hand down and squeezes his bare cock tightly. "I'm gonna knock somethin' else off my list," Daryl growls against his mouth. He bites Rick's lower lip, making it sting, and then forces Rick's head back so he can suck a dark mark to his neck, far too high for anything to hide it. "Can you reach the pipe?"

Rick looks up, stretches his fingers, and brushes it. "Scrape your nails," Daryl says, and Rick does. The cuffs make a light screeching sound, not too unpleasant but definitely enough to get attention. "Y'ain't gonna be able to talk, so if you need me to stop, do that, okay?"

Rick shivers, swallowing hard. He's already starting to sweat and he moans when he feels Daryl's tongue dip into the hollow of his throat, then his teeth biting down. "Yeah, I got it."

"Good."

Then Daryl straightens up and sheds his clothes and Rick thinks it's completely unfair how good the feeling of Daryl's bare skin against his is. He moans loudly, and the sound is swallowed by Daryl's mouth. Then, Daryl straddles his chest. Rick can feel his cock on the underside of his jaw, and Daryl's hand flattens on his forearm, squeezing tight.

"Open your mouth," Daryl growls, and Rick parts his lips, closing his eyes when he feels the head of Daryl's cock brushing against them. He snakes his tongue out, catching the bead of precome on Daryl's cock, and Daryl shivers. "Wider, that's it."

Rick swallows Daryl's cock eagerly as it sinks into his mouth. The scent of him fills Rick's nose, lungs, and every part of him as Daryl sinks deeply inside. Daryl lets out a low, animal snarl, fisting his free hand in Rick's hair and tugging it harshly as he bends over Rick, thrusting his cock as deep into Rick's mouth as he can.

"Fuck," he hisses, and Rick moans. Daryl's cock is hitting the back of his throat, he feels like he might choke, but then Daryl is pulling back and thrusting back inside, building up a slow rhythm that Rick feels in his chest. Daryl's thighs are tight under Rick's arms, almost crushing him from all sides and Rick is so hard it hurts, his blood is rushing in his ears, and all he can do is lay there and take it as Daryl steadily fucks his mouth.

"Fuck, Rick," Daryl grunts, sinking in deep again. Rick gags, his chest seizing up, and Daryl pulls back and out of Rick's mouth. Rick gasps, saliva pooling in his mouth, and desperately tries to swallow it back but Daryl releases his arm and puts his hand on Rick's throat, stopping the action. "Good boy," he growls, and leans down and licks into Rick's open mouth. His cock leaves a wet smear on Rick's heaving chest. "Wanna fuck your mouth and paint that pretty face. You gonna let me?"

"Yes," Rick whimpers, and his voice is already wrecked, tight from Daryl's squeezing hold. Daryl lets out a low, feral laugh, and lets his neck go and slides back into place.

"Then open your fucking mouth," he says, and Rick swallows him down again. Daryl doesn't go as deep but he braces himself on the pipe and fucks Rick's mouth harshly, plugging his throat and then withdrawing so that Rick can catch quick gasps of air. "God, that’s good, that's real fuckin' good – fuck. Gonna come."

Rick moans, tonguing the bottom of Daryl's cock as Daryl slows, growling softly. He feels Daryl's cock get thick, hard, and then the first splashes of Daryl's come coat his tongue. He moans again, swallowing it, and then Daryl pulls out and grabs his cock, stroking quickly. Rick gasps, closing his eyes as he feels Daryl's come spill onto his jaw, his cheeks, over his lips.

Daryl lets out a rough groan, letting go of his cock and grabbing Rick's jaw, forcing his mouth to stay open. Rick is breathing hard, his head spinning from the alcohol and lack of air.

Daryl smiles, leaning down, and licks Rick's lower lip clean. Rick moans when Daryl kisses him, his come mixing on Rick's tongue as Daryl kisses him deeply, passionately.

Daryl sits back after a moment, breathing hard, and reaches for his jeans. He takes the handcuff key out and undoes the handcuffs and Rick sighs, wincing when his hands are free. Daryl brushes his fingers across the indents on his wrists, rubs his hands down Rick's shoulders.

Rick tries to sit up and Daryl puts his hand on Rick's chest, forcing him down. "No," he says. "Not done with you yet."

Rick lips his lips. He's so hard it's starting to hurt, and he can't imagine what else Daryl might have in mind.

Daryl smiles, slow and sly. "Roll over," he growls, his voice as low as if he had had Rick's cock in his mouth and fucking his throat.

Rick nods, rolling over, and Daryl slides into place between his thighs as Rick goes to his elbows and knees. He hears the lube bottle opening and shivers.

"Next time, I'm gonna get you all nice and clean so I can put my mouth here," Daryl growls, and Rick feels him kiss his lower back. He whimpers, his fingers clenching in the blanket tightly, hanging his head as Daryl's big hands flatten over his thighs, spreading him out.

"Stay nice and still for me," Daryl says, and Rick bites his lower lip and nods, closing his eyes as he feels Daryl's hands retreat so that he can slick up his fingers. Then, one of Daryl's fingers slides against his ass, slick with lube, and sinks inside. Rick moans, his cock twitching between his thighs, his shoulders rolling as he tries to stay still as Daryl commanded him.

Daryl pushes his finger all the way inside, curling down immediately. Rick sighs, groaning softly when Daryl's other hand slides between his legs, wrapping around his cock loosely. He jerks, whining and starting to sweat, his thighs trembling as Daryl adds a second finger.

Daryl brushes over his prostate and Rick growls, biting down on his forearm to muffle the sound as Daryl touches him where he's most sensitive. His other hand tightens on the head of his cock, stroking him slowly. Rick licks his lips and tastes more of Daryl's come and he moans.

"Do you –. You gonna fuck me?" Rick asks.

Daryl growls and bites his ass, earning a hiss from Rick. "You want me to?" he asks.

"I wanna come with you in me," Rick gasps.

"Fuck, Rick, you sure know how to flatter a guy, I'll give ya that."

Daryl's hand lets go of his cock and Rick moans with the loss, trembling finely. Daryl's fingers slide deep, touching his prostate almost mercilessly again, and Rick shakes and tries to swallow back his desperate whimper. Daryl's come leaves smears on his bicep and the blankets as he tries to stifle his sounds.

"Stay still," Daryl growls, and then his fingers withdraw. He kneels up, flattens his hands on Rick's ass and spreads him open, and then Rick feels the head of his cock pressing against his ass. Daryl grunts, shoving inside, and Rick can't stop the desperate, needy moan he lets out.

Daryl puts a hand in his hair, tugging his head up, and sinks all the way inside. "You like me fuckin' ya?" he growls, and bites Rick's shoulder when Rick swallows, gasping.

"Yes," he says, hardly able to say the word. His throat feels raw and wrecked, he can barely think beyond the feeling of Daryl's cock splitting him apart and fucking deeply into him. This angle lets him get deeper, he remembers how deep he could fuck Lori when she was like this, and he wants nothing more than to let Daryl as deep in him as Daryl can go. "Please, Daryl, fuck me. Wanna feel you come in me again."

"Yeah? You like that?"

Rick nods helplessly, fisting the blankets as Daryl starts to move. His free hand is tight on Rick's ribs, nails digging in tightly as he fucks Rick. He stops pulling Rick's hair and lets him hang his head again, fucking him brutally, the tent filled with the sounds of their low moans, growls, and the wet feeling of sweaty skin colliding.

"Love feelin' you comin' in me," Rick gasps, and Daryl's rhythm stutters. He growls lowly. "Love it when you bite me, when you touch me."

"Never gonna stop," Daryl growls. He lets go of Rick's flank and reaches below him to fist his cock. "You gonna come for me?"

"Yeah," Rick whispers. He's not sure he could stop it if he tried. His heart is thundering in his ears and his breath is leaving him in unsteady gasps. "Fuck, Daryl, please – please, wanna come for you. Please."

"Fuck, Rick," Daryl breathes. "You're gonna fuckin' ruin me."

Rick groans, pressing his forehead against his bicep as he feels his orgasm wash over him. He let outs a high-pitched, needy growl when he feels Daryl go still, biting out a curse against Rick's shoulders, and feels Daryl's hands tighten and his hips twitch as he empties his cock deep in Rick's ass.

Rick collapses when they're done, and Daryl pulls out with a hiss and lays over him, sucking dark marks to his shoulders and the back of his neck. Rick hums, enjoying the afterglow, his eyelids heavy and his heart slowly getting back to a normal rate.

Daryl rubs at his shoulders, scratches down his back in a way that makes him shiver. "That was awesome," Rick says hoarsely, and Daryl huffs a laugh. "I'm definitely lookin' forward to goin' through this list with you."

Daryl hums. "Feel free to add anythin' you'd like to it."

"I got some ideas."

"I'm sure."

Rick turns, rolling onto his back. His thighs are sore and he can feel the slick of Daryl's come leaking out of him. He's elated, so high he feels like he'll never come back down, and Daryl is there, kissing him, his warm weight spread over Rick's chest, one hand knotted in his sweaty hair.

"Don't suppose I can convince you to try a bed next time," Rick murmurs.

Daryl raises an eyebrow, smiling. "Roof not good enough for you?" he teases.

"Some of my ideas require beds," Rick replies. "Like breaking one."

Daryl laughs. "Those things are sturdy," he says. "It'll take a lot."

"I have faith in your ability."

Daryl smiles and kisses him again, sighing against his mouth. "You're a mess," he says, wiping absently at one of the smears of his come still clinging to Rick's jaw.

"Yeah," Rick replies, unapologetic. Daryl's come is drying and starting to itch, and he scratches at it absently where it's sticking to his neck. "Don't care."

"Come shower with me?" Daryl asks.

"Gonna get me all clean?"

Daryl's eyes flash, and the smile he graces Rick with is positively wicked. "Lead the way."