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The sun was slowly setting, painting the sky red, and all Daryl wanted was to head back home and see Rick again. He’d spent the last two days away on a job a few towns over, emptying out a storage unit and hauling junk with two other guys for a woman who had recently lost her parents.
It had been a back-breaking job, but Daryl couldn’t afford to be picky about the work he was offered. As it was, he was glad he could pick up odd jobs here and there. They were in dire need of money and people were still a little wary of the two strangers who had claimed the run-down cabin at the end of the old forest road.
It had barely been two months since Rick and Daryl had moved there, into this old ramshackle cabin they were slowly fixing up, with its lease in Daryl's name. A lease, in Daryl’s name. It still boggled his mind. He shook his head and couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his new home.
The rent was more than affordable, which could be explained by its remote location, neglected appearance and the work they had promised to do on it. Already, the hole in the roof had been patched, the chimney swept and the leaking kitchen sink fixed.
Next, they would need to install the solar panels they had retrieved from their old house, replace the two missing steps on the staircase leading to the bedroom and take a look at the porch’s broken railing. Then, come spring, Rick wanted to create a small vegetable garden and build a chicken coop. And, of course, Daryl knew that they would probably find some other faults to work on as time passed.
The cabin was small - much smaller than their previous house, which they had managed to sell to a bunch of survivalists, of all people - and old, with quite a few flaws, but it was home and Daryl would be loath to leave it. He had this stupid little hope that one day - far in the future - they might be able to buy it. It was a foolish dream, and yet he couldn’t help but hope.
Daryl sighed tiredly as he stopped at a red light on his way out of town and cursed when he spotted the post office. Rick had asked him to mail Lori’s check while he was in town and he had almost forgotten about it. They would be in deep shit if he did forget.
Rick and Lori’s divorce had only recently been finalized and they couldn’t afford to draw her ire, not if Rick wanted to have a chance to see Carl ever again. As of now, Rick had no visitation rights whatsoever, but his lawyer - whom they had only been able to afford by selling a few guns to some of Merle’s less than reputable acquaintances - had managed to secure a promise to renegotiate once Carl turned sixteen.
Four years. They had four long years ahead of them to get their shit together and build something solid enough for Rick to earn back some of his reputation and not appear like the unhinged cult member Lori painted him as anymore. But first Daryl needed to mail the fucking alimony check.
He put his indicator on, switched lanes, and parked the car slightly askew in front of the post office. He was ready to run out when the glove compartment caught his eye. He frowned, drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, and with a muttered curse grabbed the crumpled postcard he’d shoved in there a couple of weeks ago.
It was nothing special. Just a stupid postcard depicting a Georgian sunset he’d nicked from a supermarket a while back. He hadn’t written much on it, just his name, phone number and new address. He’d addressed it to Merle.
He didn’t know what sending it would get him - he didn’t even know if sending it was the right thing to do - but he wanted his brother to know that he was alright. Despite their rocky relationship and the fact that he’d disappeared without a word, Daryl still wanted Merle to know that he was thinking about him and missed him.
He got out of the car and headed for the post office. Rick’s letter was quickly sent, but Daryl took a few more seconds before handing the postcard over. He paid with a heavy heart and wondered what Merle would have to say if he knew Daryl was living with Rick and having some sort of relationship with him. Nothing pretty, he reckoned.
Fuck, he hoped Merle wouldn’t take the postcard as an invitation to show up out of the blue. Maybe he shouldn’t have given Merle their address, Daryl berated himself as he left the post office and got back to his car. His phone number would have been enough.
Anyway, what was done was done. Now Daryl just needed to give Rick a heads-up in case his brother decided to be difficult and showed up unannounced at the cabin. Daryl winced. It wouldn’t go over well. Merle and Rick had butted heads before - hell, even Daryl had wanted to strangle him a time or two. Or twenty - and he didn’t think things would be any better now.
He could already imagine the tug-of-war that would happen between the two men - with Daryl stuck in the middle as the unwilling prize - and he wasn’t looking forward to it.
What he was looking forward to, though, was going home tonight. So Daryl put all thoughts of his brother aside and focused on the road ahead. He had a little over two hours of driving ahead of him, and he refused to spend them worrying about Merle. He didn’t want to reach the cabin in a bad mood. Rick didn’t need to deal with his sullenness, especially since they hadn’t seen each other for a couple days.
The journey went by quickly, but it was already dark by the time he reached the old forest road. A car sped past him at full speed, and Daryl rolled his eyes when he recognised The-Little-Asshole at the wheel. They’d be finding condoms near the lake again then. Joy.
Daryl didn't know the kid's name. He just knew the lake was his go-to make-out spot and that he came by once or twice every weekend, usually with a different girl. Daryl and Rick had already caught him several times with his pants down, but clearly the lesson hadn't stuck.
He'd been embarrassed the first time, but had quickly turned into a dickhead afterwards, going so far as to call them Mr. and Mr. Dixon with a sharp and not-so-friendly little smirk. If they'd still been living in the apocalypse world, Daryl would have clocked him in the mouth. As it was, whenever they happened upon him and his latest conquest, Rick usually dragged Daryl away before he could erupt.
He wasn’t expecting to come across anyone else - the road was usually quiet - so he was surprised to happen upon a parked car not even five minutes later. He slowed down, spotted a car jack and a spare wheel next to the vehicle, and then a pissed-off looking girl who kicked her flat tire with a shouted curse.
“You alright there?” Daryl asked after coming to a stop next to her and rolling down his window.
The girl quickly took a step back and pulled out her phone, probably speed-dialling a friend or family member behind her back. She looked at him with a wary eye and seemed halfway to panicking, which Daryl couldn’t fault her for - it was dark, her car had broken down and she was now stuck facing a stranger. She had every reason to be cautious so he waited patiently for her answer.
“I’m fine, sir,” she said, then added after a few seconds, “Thank you.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, sir. Uh. Someone’s coming to give me a hand. They won’t be long.”
Daryl couldn’t tell if she was lying, but even if she was telling the truth, he wasn’t comfortable leaving her alone in the dark. Once upon a time, he would have done so without a second thought. And during the outbreak, he would have thought twice about stopping, fearing a trap. But it was different now, this world afforded him the opportunity to be kind.
With a tired sigh, he turned off the engine and put on the handbrake. He didn’t get out of the car yet, not wanting to send the girl running.
“Name's Daryl,” he introduced himself and gestured ahead, “I live in the cabin at the end of the road.”
“Oh,” she breathed out.
“Yeah. I know my way around cars, and I can change your tire if you want.”
She was biting her lip now, contemplating his offer. Her hesitancy was a good sign, Daryl thought. At least she had some sort of survival instinct.
“You can send the license plate number of my car to your family,” he offered, trying not to sound too gruff, but also not to appear too friendly. “Or take a picture. You can even lock yourself in your car while I work. I just… I don’t want to leave you stranded in the dark.”
She looked left and right, but no one was coming, and Daryl waited patiently for her to make a decision. Finally, she mumbled something inaudible under her breath and nodded.
“All right,” she said and pointed at her car. “I’ll just…”
“Yeah,” Daryl nodded and waited for her to get into her car and lock the doors before getting out of his own.
He stretched, before crouching down to peer at the tire. It was completely flat, but he didn’t expect any trouble. It looked like a clean puncture. Diagnosis made, he got up with a groan and knocked on the passenger-side window. The girl startled so badly she almost dropped her phone, but she lowered the window a sliver anyway.
“Thirty minutes, tops, and you’ll be good to go,” Daryl announced abruptly. He didn’t wait for an answer. He just rolled up his sleeves, bent down and got to work.
The girl didn’t roll the window up again and in between a few of his own grunts and muttered curse words, Daryl caught a few snatches of conversation. At least, she had the good sense to call someone and tell them what was happening instead of trusting him blindly, Daryl thought, even if he would have preferred she not discuss him with what sounded like a friend.
“It’s one of the gay guys who lives in old Tom’s cabin. He's changing my tire,” she said, probably a bit louder than she intended.
Gay. She called him and Rick gay. It could have been worse, Daryl thought, but it also could have been better. Mainly by people not gossiping about them, for example. Daryl knew that it wasn’t the first time someone thought he and Rick were a couple, but it still made him blush bright red.
It also made Daryl realize that he didn't know how to define whatever he and Rick were going through.
He was hesitant to call it a Relationship - with a capital R, yes - but in some ways he couldn’t deny that it was. Daryl wasn't stupid enough to pretend otherwise. They might not be kissing or cuddling or doing mushy, couple-y things, but something was happening. Something that would make Daryl quite angry if Rick were to come home one day with a woman on his arm. He had an inkling Rick would feel the same if their roles were reversed.
“What? He said his name was Daryl… How do you expect me to know? Oh my God, Susan! No, I won't look out the window to peek at his biceps! Gosh… He’s got shoulder-length hair, does that help? Yeah. Good… Anyway, you know I had a date with Max this evening and you won't believe it, but he’s such an asshole…”
Daryl's face was on fire, and he was glad to be working in the dark, away from the girl’s prying eyes. He took a surreptitious look at his biceps, but didn't get why they seemed so special. They were just muscles. Well-defined ones, but… oh. He never thought he'd see the day where teenage girls found something attractive about him. He scowled and tightened the lug nut a little harder than necessary. It was disturbing.
He wondered briefly what - if anything - they had noticed about Rick. His curls? Daryl liked his curls. He'd already had to stop himself from running his fingers through Rick's hair a few times. Or his eyes? His smile? Rick didn’t smile much, but Daryl liked it when he laughed or grinned, when he was happy.
When he realized he’d spent the last minute daydreaming about Rick, he shook his head and resolutely went back to work. He forced himself to ignore the gossiping girl in the car - even if it was nice to know that people had noticed him and Rick in town - and focused on the flat tire he was supposed to be changing.
As he’d predicted, it was an easy job. He was done in just under thirty minutes and stood up with a tired groan. Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get home. He took a few seconds to stretch his aching body, then knocked on the car’s window again. The girl immediately turned toward him.
“I’m done,” he told her, surprised when she shot him a grateful smile.
“Already? Thank you, sir.”
“Don't need no thanks,” he mumbled. “Just make sure you stop by a mechanic in town to replace the spare.”
“I will.”
“Good. Want me to toss the jack and the flat in your trunk?”
She took a few seconds to think before agreeing. Daryl nodded and popped the trunk open, loading the tire and jack. He closed the trunk once he was done, said a final goodbye to the girl and went back to his own car.
He watched her drive off until her lights disappeared down the road, then continued on his way home. The ride felt endless at this hour, and Daryl was fucking grateful when he finally spotted the cabin at the end of the road.
The blinds were still open, the lights on in the kitchen, and Daryl smiled when he saw Rick through the window. He seemed to be fiddling with the burners and Daryl’s stomach rumbled. Rick looked up as Daryl parked the car, and they waved at each other in greeting.
By the time Daryl reached the door, Rick was already there, holding it open and smiling. Daryl dumped his bag as soon as he stepped inside, and they hugged tightly, acting as if they hadn’t seen each other for weeks instead of just two days. Daryl relaxed into Rick’s embrace and felt the tension he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying drain out of him.
“How are you?” Rick asked after a few seconds.
He took a step back, keeping his hands on Daryl’s shoulders, and studied him carefully. Daryl would have grumbled if he hadn’t been doing exactly the same thing, giving Rick a thorough once-over, checking that he was alright, as if they had been separated by a horde of walkers and were only now reuniting.
“I’m fine,” Daryl mumbled, squirming under Rick’s touch. Rick’s hands glided down Daryl’s arms, apparently checking for nonexistent injuries, and even though Daryl knew he wouldn’t find anything, he let Rick pat him down. He understood Rick’s need to make sure Daryl was alright - he’d reacted the same way, the first time Rick came back from their neighbour’s farm after spending the day working in their greenhouses - and bore the inspection with minimal grumbling.
Rick’s hands slipped under his jacket, patted his stomach - it tickled and Daryl let out a quiet, unwilling laugh that made Rick smirk, asshole - and then his ribs and back. Daryl was wondering how much longer he’d have to stay still and endure Rick’s check, when his stomach rumbled loudly, putting an end to it.
“You’re hungry,” he noted and Daryl shrugged, unable to deny it.
“I’m fine,” Daryl insisted. “But I won’t say no to a meal and a hot shower.”
Rick nodded and took a step back, so Daryl turned around and shrugged off his jacket to hang it on the coat rack.
“Dinner is ready,” Rick said. “I made vegetable soup and…”
“With or without mushrooms?” Daryl interrupted with a teasing smile.
Rick had picked poisonous mushrooms not so long ago, and only Daryl’s quick reflexes had saved them from food poisoning… or worse. He liked to remind Rick of his blunder, if only to watch him blush and squirm.
“I used pumpkins, asshole,” Rick grumbled, heading toward the kitchen, “Got them from the farmer next door when I went to work yesterday.”
Daryl frowned.
“Alright. Did he pay you too?”
No answer came.
“Rick?”
Daryl cursed under his breath and stomped into the kitchen.
“He didn’t pay you, did he?”
Rick sighed, and Daryl glared, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I didn’t even spend half a day there,” Rick said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
It seemed like they could both feel the argument brewing - an argument they’d already had three times and were about to rehash. It wasn’t how Daryl had expected his evening to go.
“Didn’t seem worth asking for money when he offered food instead.”
“But we need money more than we need food.”
Daryl didn’t know how many more times he would have to repeat himself. Food wasn’t an issue. They had their collection of cans, Daryl could hunt, and the both of them could forage. And if worst came to worst, Daryl wasn’t above stealing vegetables or fruit from the nearby farmers. He’d done it before, and he’d do it again if he had to.
So yeah, food wasn’t an issue. Now he just needed to get it through Rick’s thick skull.
“But,” Rick countered, “If I push and ask for money, he may not call me back.”
“Who cares!” Daryl suddenly exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “We don’t need this fucking cheapskate! We need money, Rick! Money to pay Lori’s alimony! Money to pay back the loan!”
“And what do you propose then?”
“Go find someone else to work for! Someone who will actually pay you instead of taking advantage of you!”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried?” Rick growled, clearly pissed off. “There’s no one else!”
“Then look fucking harder!”
“It’s easy for you to say,” Rick hissed, quieter and angrier. “You’re handy. You can do almost anything. I can’t. I’m no mechanic, no plumber, no mason. I’m just an unhinged, violent cult member who kidnapped his son and wife and is damn lucky she didn’t press charges!”
Daryl took a few deep breaths and forced himself to remain calm. He had to remind himself that shaking or strangling or punching Rick wouldn’t benefit either of them.
“No, you’re not,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Not what? Lucky? Because I assure you…”
“An unhinged psycho,” Daryl growled, invading Rick’s space and poking him in the chest with a finger. “You. Are. Not. Crazy. And I won’t let you talk that way about yourself.
“You know that! The others don’t,” Rick shot back, gesturing wildly in the direction of the road.
“Screw them!”
“Not if we want to settle here! We need their goodwill and kindness. We need a network of people who will vouch for us! That’s why I go work at the farm even if John doesn’t pay me! That’s why you’re doing shitty jobs for anyone who asks! With any luck, they’ll know someone who’s hiring in spring and they’ll put in a good word for us and then we’ll have jobs. Real paying jobs, Daryl, that’s what we’re aiming for here.”
Daryl had heard Rick’s reasoning multiple times already and, while he could admit it was sound and made sense, he couldn’t help but find it frustrating. Sometimes, he found himself wishing he and Rick had just packed up and disappeared. Screw Lori, screw the bank, screw society. It would have been just him and Rick, living off-grid in the woods, free.
Unfortunately, it was just a dream - another one. Rick would never abandon Carl, and Daryl wouldn’t ask it of him.
“I know,” Daryl said after a few seconds of silence, which he used to calm himself down, “Still feels like bullshit.”
Rick exhaled noisily and seemed to deflate.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
Rick looked like he wanted to offer some platitudes, to assure Daryl that soon everything would be fine and they wouldn’t have to worry anymore, but he seemed to think better of it and closed his mouth with an unhappy frown. Before Daryl could offer some gruff comfort of his own, Rick turned around, switched off the burner and brought the cooking pot back to the table.
Meanwhile, Daryl fetched the bread and some cured meat, and they settled down at the table. They ate in silence for a few minutes until Daryl noticed Rick’s scrutiny.
“What?” he grunted, his mouth half full.
“You look tired,” Rick noted.
Daryl shrugged.
“How was the hotel room? Did you sleep well?”
Daryl did his best not to freeze or look guilty. He’d told Rick he’d take a hotel room for the night away, but it’d been a lie. He hadn’t wanted to waste their hard-won money, so he’d slept in his car between the two days the job took. He’d had worse accommodations over the years, but he’d still slept poorly - partly because of Rick’s absence and partly because his back had been twinging something awful.
He wasn’t planning on telling Rick the truth, though.
“Was fine,” Daryl mumbled, his eyes fixed on his soup.
He could feel Rick’s eyes boring into him and did his best to appear unbothered. Unfortunately, Rick saw right through him.
“You didn’t take one, did you?” Rick asked with a tired sigh.
Daryl shrugged and lowered his head, letting his hair fall into his face.
“What the fuck, Daryl? You told me you’d get a hotel room for the night!”
“Didn’t feel like it,” Daryl muttered.
“Yeah, of course you didn’t,” Rick grumbled bitterly.
“What does it matter anyway? What’s done is done.”
“It matters because you lied to me.”
“Didn’t want to worry you,” Daryl said with a shrug.
“Because you think I didn’t worry anyway?” Rick hissed.
Daryl froze. Now that Rick had pointed it out, Daryl felt dumb. It had been the first night they’d spent apart since they’d ended up back here, of fucking course Rick must have been anxious. Hell, Daryl had been the one to leave, and even he had been worried about Rick.
Daryl opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say. He must have stayed silent a little too long, because Rick suddenly got up with an angry huff and just… walked away. Daryl looked up in alarm and called after him, but Rick ignored him and stomped upstairs without a word.
This was not how Daryl had imagined his return back home.
He finished his meal with an unhappy frown, wondering what he could do to make things right again. The first thing that came to mind was to give them both a little time to cool off. So Daryl did the dishes, tidied up the kitchen, and put away the food before taking a walk around the ground floor, checking the windows and locking the door.
He also took the time to stash away the money he’d earned and was relieved to see they were only a hundred bucks short of the monthly payment they owed the bank. They still had another week to come up with the rest, but Daryl already had two jobs lined up - a wall repair and some wood chopping - and he knew Rick had been approached by a few people interested in buying meat from the game they were hunting.
At least it meant that Daryl was done worrying about this month’s bank payment. Instead, he could start worrying about Lori’s alimony for next month - fucking never-ending circle. He sighed tiredly, rubbed his eyes and slammed the drawer where they kept their money shut with a curse and a little too much force.
He debated sleeping downstairs tonight, but the lumpy old couch wouldn’t be comfortable, and he didn’t want to spend another night tossing and turning because of his aching back. He also wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep without Rick at his back.
So Daryl trudged upstairs, quickly hopped in the shower, and finally found himself in their bedroom. He hovered by the door, berating himself for his hesitation, until he mentally slapped himself and gathered enough courage to cross the distance to the bed.
Rick was lying still, facing the window with his back to the door, but Daryl knew him well enough to tell he was just feigning sleep. He was tense, holding himself too rigidly, and his breathing wasn’t deep enough, betraying his wakefulness. Without a word, Daryl slipped under the sheets and, after a few seconds of hesitation, put his back against Rick’s.
Daryl felt the shudder running through Rick’s body and flinched, afraid Rick might roll away. Instead, Rick relaxed slightly and pressed his back more firmly against Daryl’s. In response, Daryl let out a tired sigh and leaned back, letting himself settle against Rick.
So. They had quarrelled, but Daryl was relieved to see they weren’t irrevocably cross with each other. He’d always heard that couples fought - yes, he was acknowledging it, he had a Relationship with Rick, he was making progress - and that it was normal, even healthy. Though, nobody had ever told him how shitty it felt when it happened.
He burrowed under the covers with a quiet grumble, closing his eyes and trying to will himself to sleep. It didn’t work. Knowing Rick was still there, still had his back, was a relief, but not enough to let him fall asleep in peace. He started fidgeting, biting his lip, rubbing his feet together and picking at his nails. It had been a long time since he'd felt so unsettled.
After a long minute of unrest, Rick grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and trapped one of Daryl’s twitching feet in between his own. Daryl froze, forcing himself still by sheer force of will, heart hammering in his chest. When the taste of blood filled his mouth and he realized he’d bitten through his lip, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go to sleep without clearing the air first.
He hoped Rick felt the same, otherwise he might just piss him off again, and Daryl would prefer to avoid it - he didn’t want to have to deal with Rick giving him the cold shoulder for days. One hour this evening had been more than enough.
“I’m sorry,” Daryl blurted out in the dark, voice tight and rough. He forced the words through gritted teeth, hating the vulnerability of speaking them aloud. Yet the obscurity helped - felt like a hideout - and for Rick, he could and, more importantly, would try to make things right. “I… I shouldn’t have lied to you. I’m sorry.”
He didn’t know what he expected - maybe forgiveness, maybe just a small reassurance that everything would be okay eventually - but cold silence wasn’t it. Was Rick so angry he’d shut him out completely? Daryl swallowed hard and tried again.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just want what’s best for you, for us, and I thought… Fuck, it doesn’t matter what I thought. I shouldn’t have lied to you and I shouldn’t have shouted at you earlier either. I’m sorry, Rick.”
“Stop,” Rick rasped suddenly before Daryl could go on, his voice low but firm, “You don’t need to apologize.”
“Kinda do,” Daryl shot back, gruff and stubborn. He hated to admit he’d been wrong, but better try and make things right instead of letting them fester.
He pressed his back a little more firmly against Rick’s and was surprised to find him trembling slightly. Daryl frowned, closed his eyes and focused on Rick. His breathing was ragged, his feet shaking against Daryl’s and he was rustling the sheets with every tiny movement. It sounded like he was falling apart.
“No. I’m sorry, Daryl. I’m sorry I dragged you into this shit. I’m sorry you’re breaking your back to pay for my debts and all you get for it is a fucking shouting match when you get home. I’m sorry we’re so broke I can’t treat you right. I’m sorry for my shitty attitude and my fucking temper and…”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Daryl growled, cutting him off, “Stop! Just stop it, Rick!”
Without thinking, he turned around to look at Rick. He half-expected Rick to do the same, so they’d be face to face, but he stayed put. Daryl rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Daryl.”
“Yeah, I got it,” Daryl said dryly, “We’re two sorry sods.”
“Dar…”
“No, I am sorry too, Rick. Not everything’s your fault. I’ve got a temper too. I know I’ve been short with you several times the last few days and, not gonna lie, our situation is…”
“Shitty.”
“Yeah,” Daryl agreed and huffed a quiet laugh. “Quite a shitty situation we’re finding ourselves in. Doesn’t mean I’d want to be anywhere else.”
“You should consider it.”
“What?”
“Leaving,” Rick replied sadly, his voice heavy with guilt. “You’d be better off without me dragging you down.”
Daryl was left speechless. He didn’t know where Rick got this fucking absurd idea. If Daryl weren’t with Rick, he’d still be stuck in the same shit - poor, just like he’d always been, and taking on odd jobs left and right - or, well, it’d be worse because Daryl would be lonely and probably spend whatever little money he’d made on booze to dull the ache.
“You’re an idiot,” Daryl finally said after a long, ringing silence.
“Daryl…”
“It’s true,” Daryl snapped, gripping Rick’s shoulder tighter. “You are an unredeemable idiot if you think for one second my life would be better without you in it. We’re poor? So what? I’ve been poor my whole life! Dealing with money problems isn’t new to me. And at least you’re not blowing it all on booze, drugs and hookers like Merle did!”
“Thanks,” Rick replied dryly, “Glad to know I’m meeting such high standards.”
“Yeah, you’re lucky I like having you around,” Daryl smiled. The levity was brief though, before Daryl decided to remind Rick that things could be so much worse. It was something he was finding himself doing more and more lately, especially when Rick got so focused on their current problems that he seemed to forget the horrors they’d already survived.
“Also, our life could be way shittier.”
“Yeah, I know,” Rick agreed with a tired sigh, “No walkers.”
“No psychopaths.”
“Electricity.”
“Gas.”
“Running water.”
“Hey,” Daryl grumbled, half-smiling, “I can stop showering if you want!”
“I’m kicking you out of bed if you do,” Rick shot back, a smile audible in his voice.
“Yeah? I’d like to see you try,” Daryl laughed.
“I could take you,” Rick retorted.
“In your dreams, Grimes,” Daryl smirked.
They both chuckled, finally feeling a little lighter, and Daryl squeezed Rick’s shoulder, smiling at the subtle shudder he felt under his hand.
“So,” Daryl wondered after a moment, “We good?”
“Yeah, Daryl, we’re good,” Rick replied, giving the hand still resting on his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Daryl should probably take it off and turn back around before it got awkward, but settling down back-to-back felt a touch too impersonal now that they’d laid their hearts bare.
It seemed like Daryl was once again at a turning point - there had been more and more of those lately - and he didn’t want to screw it up. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, ignored his racing heart and gently settled down.
He shifted a little, inched closer to Rick until he was spooned behind him, and then froze, unsure what to do with his damn hand. Leaving it on Rick’s shoulder would soon become uncomfortable, so summoning all his courage, he carefully slid his arm around Rick’s waist.
“Is this okay?” he asked softly in the dark, feeling his face burn.
Rick was holding himself suspiciously still, but Daryl felt him nod slowly, and he exhaled in relief. Rick shivered at the movement, but he didn’t pull away. Quite the opposite, he leaned a little closer against Daryl, then took his hand, intertwined their fingers and brought it up to rest against his chest.
The gesture made Daryl smile and he couldn’t resist leaning forward to press a kiss to the nape of Rick’s neck. He froze when he realized what he was doing, his lips still grazing Rick’s skin, but Rick didn’t let him roll away. In response, he squeezed Daryl’s hand, lifted it slightly, kissed his knuckles, and then settled it back against his chest. Daryl’s heart was racing and his face was so hot, he was sure Rick could feel it, but he wouldn’t roll away for anything in the world.
“Okay?” Daryl whispered again, and the sound made Rick shiver.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rick murmured back. His nape felt warm beneath Daryl’s lips, and he was sure Rick was blushing too. He smiled, hoping Rick could feel it against his skin.
“Good,” Daryl said, still just a hair’s breadth away from Rick’s skin, aiming to draw another shiver from him. He wasn’t disappointed. “Good night.”
“Night,” Rick replied in a slightly strangled voice.
It took them a minute to settle down comfortably into this new position. Their feet brushed together and Daryl’s knees nudged the back of Rick’s as they shifted and adjusted, quiet and careful in the dark. But once they found something comfortable, neither of them moved again.
Daryl stayed close, his arm secure around Rick’s waist, his hand resting over Rick’s heart. Rick’s breathing soon slowed, deepened. Listening to it, feeling the warmth of him tucked against his chest, Daryl finally drifted off, lulled to sleep by the gentle rhythm of Rick’s breathing.