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The dining room was filled with the clattering of forks against plates and the low murmur of conversation. The table was surrounded by people, Daryl’s people. Not all of them. There were only a couple of them tonight, Carol and Michonne, Rick and his kids, and Daryl. The rest of the group had been busy, taking late shifts to guard the walls of Alexandria or the armory, or just catching up on some rest. It was something they tried to do often, though. Eat together. It was hard to be so far apart from each other, even when they were only just down the street from each other. To be fair, being down the street is a big jump from the way they had practically lived in each other’s pockets on the road and at the prison.
Daryl was content. He quietly filled his plate with his share of canned green beans and some kind of casserole that Carol had made. He glanced around the table and watched as Carl balanced Judith on his lap, feeding her green beans in between his own bites of dinner. He was quietly listening in on Michonne and Carol’s conversation further down the table, something about one of the townspeople. As much as Michonne likes to deny it, that woman loves gossip, and Carol is happy to provide her with it. Daryl risked a glance at the seat across from him. Rick was eating a bite of his casserole and caught Daryl’s eye, his mouth forming into a smile, his eyes soft and happy. Rick was real pretty, even with his mouth full of food.
It was new, this thing between him and Rick. Well, acting on it was new. The looks, the lingering touches, all the goddamn fucking blushing Daryl was doing. That was nothing new. Had been going on for a while. Rick kissed him two months ago. That was new. It was shy, uncharacteristically so. Daryl had imagined Rick to be rough, handsy. (And he had imagined it a lot, all right. So what? All them days out on the road got boring). But it hadn’t been. Rough, that is.
Rick had pushed open the front door, walked over and sat down next to Daryl on the porch, the porch where he had skinned that possum for all the Alexandrians to see back when they first got here. Daryl was smoking a cigarette from a pack that Michonne had brought back for him on a run. It was late. Lil’ Asskicker had been put to bed hours ago. The sky was clear and the moon made Rick look beautiful, casting his tan skin and curls in a pale, subtle light. Daryl’s breath had gotten caught in his throat when he looked over and saw Rick looking like that. All pretty and shit. Jesus, Daryl really was queer. Men shouldn’t be pretty. Carol and Rosita and Michonne were pretty. And Daryl knew that. But they didn’t make his heart feel like it was gonna fall out of his ass. Only Rick did that.
When Daryl looked over, Rick was already looking back.
“Hey”
He had a small smile on his face, quirking to one side. He smelled like plain soap and Judith’s baby powder and his hair was curling up over the back of his shirt collar. He had let his beard grow back. Not to the point it was when they arrived at Alexandria, all Mountain Man and dangerous and grey. The stubble across his cheeks was even and clean and there was no blood in it. He was perfect.
“Hey”, Daryl grunted back.
Daryl looked at him. Rick looked back. He didn’t say anything else. He was just looking at Daryl, all soft and relaxed like. Daryl felt his stomach swooping the longer he looked at Rick, at his blue eyes and all the happy wrinkles around them. Daryl had to look away. He just couldn’t keep looking back at Rick when he looked like that. He faced forward and took a drag from his cigarette. He heard Rick chuckle next to him. He tapped the end of the cigarette and held it out to Rick, offering him a drag. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.” Daryl took another drag. He felt Rick’s eyes on him. He hadn’t looked away the whole time he’d been sitting there. The weight of his gaze was so heavy Daryl felt like he was gonna suffocate if Rick didn’t look somewhere else soon.
“Judy go down alright?” Daryl asked him, attempting to break Rick out of whatever weird staring thing he had going on.
Rick just hummed the affirmative.
Daryl finished his cigarette. He stubbed it out on the ashtray that Carol had left on the porch for him. He rubbed it thoroughly in the ashtray, making sure that it was out. Really, he was just trying to avoid looking back at Rick, who was still watching him. He normally didn’t have an issue with meeting Rick's eyes, not like this. But something about the late night and the quiet street made Daryl more nervous. This felt intimate, the silence and the staring. Daryl was worried that if he looked back at Rick, Rick would be able to see right through him, would be able to see how gone on him Daryl really was. And Daryl wasn’t really interested in having those feelings revealed, thank you very much. So he kept his eyes on the smoked cigarette that had joined the other ones in the ashtray.
“Daryl”.
“Hmm?” He grunted.
Another chuckle. “Look at me”.
And, well, Daryl couldn’t just deny Rick like that. Not when his voice was soft and low and when he could hear the smile in it. With an effort, he tore his eyes away from the ashtray and directed them towards the man next to him. And Jesus, Rick was looking at Daryl like - like he was something to be looked at. His mouth curved in a wider smile, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. Rick brought his hand up, slowly, like Daryl was a wild animal he didn’t want to spook. He brought his hand up to the side of Daryl’s face, pushing some of his hair back behind his ear before cradling the side of his head, his calloused palm resting on Daryl’s cheekbone. His thumb was close, so close, to Daryl’s mouth. Daryl’s eyes widened, he could feel a flush taking over his face at the contact and his breathing picked up. He didn’t know what the hell Rick was doing, but he sure as hell wasn’t gonna stop him. Well, he knew. This thing between them, this tension, had started so long ago, maybe even before the prison. But it had been feeling more intense lately, Rick’s stares and friendly touches always lingering a little bit longer each time. So yeah, Daryl wondered if this thing between them would ever come to a head, but he hadn’t expected it to. But it was.
Rick's eyes flicked down to Daryl’s mouth, licking his own lips mindlessly, before looking back at Daryl. His gaze was heavier now, like he was asking Daryl something without using words. They had gotten good at that, the two of them, being able to communicate with just looks and expressions. Especially out on the road like they were. Daryl could look at Rick and just know what he was thinking, and Rick could do the same with him. ‘Walkers ahead’ ‘let’s leave them be’ ‘what’s wrong with Carl?’ ‘Don’t get me started’ ‘Can I kiss you?’ ‘yes’
Daryl nodded his head once, meeting Rick’s eyes and hoping to God that he had gotten the question right. Rick leaned in and Daryl felt his breath fan across his face before their lips met. It was tentative, and he pulled back after just a second. Rick still had his hand in Daryl’s hair when they met eyes once again. Whatever Rick found in Daryl’s eyes made him lean back in, pressing another kiss to his lips, this time more confident. They kissed like that for what felt like hours, sharing kisses and making out slowly and tentatively like they were teenagers or something. Daryl’s heart was pounding, his face still flushed and his hands on Rick, one on his thigh and other pressed to the hand that Rick held to his face, keeping it there like he would float away without it. Jesus, he couldn’t believe this. He was sure that this had to be a dream, some fucked up fantasy he was stuck in, but he didn’t want to leave it, didn’t want it to stop. Not when Rick’s tongue was –
Daryl was pulled out of the memory from a nudge from Carl, asking him to pass the plate of rolls. (They had bread here, fresh bread. Daryl still couldn’t believe it). He cleared his throat and reached for the plate, trying to clear the memory from his head. He was at the dinner table, for Christ’s sake. He tried to think of something more unappealing, like the possum he skinned or Merle naked. He met Rick’s gaze across the table once again, and he could see it in the way Rick’s smile had become more smug that he knew what Daryl had been so lost in thought about. He returned the look with a good-natured glare and willed himself not to flush too badly before he forced himself to focus on the plate of food in front of him.
The rest of the dinner passed without incident. The conversation winded down and the atmosphere was sleepy and relaxed as everyone had a full stomach of good food. Michonne stretched in her chair as Carol stood up and began taking everyones plates. “Don’t worry about it, you two”. Rick stood and stopped her, taking the plates gently from her hands. “You cooked, we’ll clean”, volunteering both himself and Daryl before walking towards the kitchen.
….
Fifteen minutes later found Daryl elbows deep in hot, soapy water as he attempted to scrub any remaining evidence of Carol’s casserole from the pan. Rick stood next to him, nearly hip to hip, bumping their elbows occasionally as they washed and dried dishes. The house had a dishwasher, but they had all silently agreed that it was a waste of water. Christ, none of the places that Daryl had lived before the apocalypse had even had dishwashers.
Rick had brought the CD player over to the counter. Much like all of the furniture, the CD player had come with the house, along with a few CDs. Daryl wasn’t sure if anyone had actually lived here before the world went to shit, seeing as how impersonal all of the decorations had been, but someone had left a fairly large collection of music in their possession. To be fair, it was an odd mix of old country, folk, and rap. Maybe the music had been shared around Alexandria, and they got what was left. However, even if the music they had wasn’t exactly what they enjoyed listening to before the world collapsed, hearing any type of music was nice these days. Daryl’s throat clenched as he thought of Beth’s sweet singing echoing through the prison. He blinked hard and tried to focus on the task at hand. Rick had chosen a country CD, and he was casually swaying back and forth to the low croon of the voice coming through the small speakers. Daryl could hear Rick humming along under his breath as he dried a glass.
He felt relaxed, and the low slope of Rick’s shoulders told him that the feeling was mutual. It was just them downstairs now, besides Judith, who they had placed in her playpen in view of the kitchen sink. Carl had practically ran upstairs to his room once he got permission from Rick to be excused, probably to keep reading some comic book. Carol had followed Michonne out after placing a kiss on Daryl’s cheek and giving him a smug look, raising her eyebrows as she looked between Daryl and the kitchen that Rick had disappeared into.
It was hard to get time alone. Since their first kiss two months ago, they had had maybe two nights when they had the house to themselves for more than an hour. Besides that, they have stuck to sneaking kisses and handjobs when they found an empty room and were sure they had a few minutes to themselves. It’s not that they were hiding it, necessarily. Everyone knew, or had some idea that something was going on. It’s just that neither of them were ready to be very open with their newfound relationship. And if Daryl was being honest, it was kind of fun to be sneaking around with Rick.
Daryl leaned into the heat of Rick’s body, pressing his arm against his. He could see Rick smiling out of the corner of his eye, humming all the while. It made Daryl smile too. Christ, he was worse than Carl with Enid, he thought.
The song changed, and Rick's smile widened. Daryl continued to hand off clean dishes for Rick to dry, and Rick began nodding his head along to the music, his humming turning into low singing. Daryl smiled. “You know this one?” Rick nodded, his smile stretching and showing all of his beautiful, white teeth. Daryl really needed to get a grip on himself if he was gonna keep calling teeth, of all things, beautiful.
“Yeah, I like this one”. Rick’s voice was low, and Daryl could tell that there was a memory behind the song. He could picture Rick, uniform on, singing along to this song with the window of his police cruiser down, somewhere far, far away in another life, and his heart ached a little bit.
Daryl finished the last of the dishes and Rick dried them before turning and putting them away in their assigned cabinets. He was still bobbing his head along to the music. Daryl dried his hands as he leaned his back against the sink, watching Rick. Rick put the last glass in the cabinet and turned back to Daryl. His smile grew sheepish when he saw Daryl watching him, as if liking the music was something to be embarrassed about. Daryl just smiled back, ducking his head.
Rick walked over, swaying his hips again, and he reached out to Daryl, putting his hands on his arms, rubbing up and down. Daryl’s hands went to his hips and Rick’s hands slid up around his neck. Rick led the two of them in a swaying, slow dance. Hardly even a dance, really. Just rocking back and forth together to the music. Daryl moved his thumbs in circles on Rick’s hips, feeling the movement, feeling his heat, feeling how alive and real he was in that moment.
“Not much of a dancer”, Daryl gruffed into the space between them.
Rick chuckled. “No? What did you do at prom?”
“Didn’t go”. Daryl shrugged. The night of Daryl’s high school prom, he had driven Merle to the emergency room after he had drank too much and split his head open in a bar fight. But Daryl didn’t think that story matched the energy of what he and Rick had going on, so he kept that to himself. He cleared his throat, “No one worth takin’”.
He met Rick's eyes when he said that, hoping to God that Rick could see what he meant behind that statement. I would have taken you. I’m doing it with you now, dancin and I’ve never done that with anyone. I never felt the things I feel for you, not for anyone else and holy shit I don’t know how to—-
Rick swallowed heavily. He nodded his head, and Daryl knew that Rick knew, knew what this meant to Daryl. To be in some fancy kitchen at the end of the world with Rick was everything that he never even allowed himself to hope for, and ain't that a bit messed up. Rick brought his hand down to Daryl’s cheekbone, just like he did that first time. He brushed his thumb along under his eye. He looked from Daryl’s lips back to his eyes. He nodded again. He knew.
They brought their lips together, shy and soft just like the one two months ago out on the porch, the soft music in the background matching the rhythm to Daryl’s thumping heart.