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Crickets chirped in their long grass bushes, singing songs as the moon shone down on the vegetation they were littered in. The soft breeze that ran through the night allowed the heat to drop, small gusts flowing between the blades of green and allowing it to sway with the wind. The chirps were louder than usual, their songs being audible enough through the concrete walls surrounding the group. The prison was in a calm state, the same breeze flowing into the cell blocks.
Everything was calm.
It made a change. The chorus of zombie groans were usually drowning out any form of wildlife, stamping through the vegetation. No zombie groans, just peace and quiet.
Daryl wasn’t too sure when they first came here, he’d always had his doubts. Somehow after Woodbury, their small little ‘gated community’, if you could even call it that, was doing pretty well. He often offered to be on night watch, he couldn’t bear being around people when it was that busy. Too many people, too much noise, too much… Well. Everything. Stay reserved, stay distanced, and things will be fine.
At least that way he wouldn’t care if anyone else died. It was bound to happen, it was just a matter of when.
The walkways were empty, only himself sat on the metal stairs leading up. Daryl stared down at the curtain coverings of the cell gates, watching them move slightly with the breeze. This was the usual night for him, sitting and watching the curtains flow, wondering how the people behind them could sleep so soundly without locking their doors.
Staring back down at the small stick in his left hand, Daryl used his right hand, which gripped onto a small combat knife, to sharpen it. His gaze was fixed on the wood, watching the shavings fall. Something pulled him out of his gaze, a soft grunt sounding from one of the rooms.
Gripping his knife in his palm, he stood up on the metal stairs and creeped down them slowly. More groaning sounded, coming from a specific cell.
Rick’s cell.
Daryl gripped the knife and moved towards the cell. The groaning was less of a disgruntled noise, but more panicked. Heavy breaths in and out, picking up the pace. It didn’t sound like a walker, so… Rick must be fine. He turned to walk away, knife dropping back to his belt, but paused in his place.
“Please…” A voice uttered, soft. Weak.
Daryl stared at the ground as he stood there, listening to… Begging?
No. Rick didn’t beg. Had to be a nightmare. Part of him just wanted to walk away, go back to his post and let him wake up naturally, let him sort out his own problems. But the other half had him glued to his place, curtain still hooked around his fingers. He gave a quick grunt, staring into the dark room.
He had nothing better to do, right?
Knife was placed back in its sheath at his belt, Daryl grunting and turning his body back around to face the curtain. He shifted in and shut it behind him, staying close to the blocky furniture and walking to the bed. Hovering over Rick, he could finally see how much pain the man was in. He was tossing and turning, a sorrowful look crossing his face, brows furrowed deeply. His lips moved, twisting painfully with his face. More ‘no’s’ and ‘please’s’ were pleaded out, but one thing that struck Daryl a little more painfully was what he said following.
“Lori… Please-“ He mumbled, laid on his back.
Shit.
Daryl leaned down and poked his forearm, his name being grunted out again like usual.
“Rick-“ He said in his quiet, grumbly tone. Another poke, trying to wake up the panicked man from his bed.
“Rick!” Daryl whisper-yelled at him, arm holding onto his bicep as he kept trying to nudge him awake. Rick shot up in his bed, eyes wide and trying to focus on what was grabbing him. It was an impulse for him, but he’d already grabbed the knife taped to the side of the bed. Rick took laboured breaths, taking a second to register the man as Daryl.
Looming over him, all he could see was a concerned face surrounded by dark hair. It hung off of his face, but his semi-concerned expression was there.
“You good?” Daryl asked firmly, but still kept noise to a minimum. He knew well enough Rick wouldn’t wanna bring attention to himself.
Shakily, a breath was let out. Rick sat up in his bunk and pulled the blanket off of his legs, swinging them to rest on the floor. Hunched over, he stared at the ground, running a hand over his slightly sweaty face. He looked at his palm quickly before letting it rest down by his side.
“I’m… Good- Yeah.” Rick answered, the lump in his throat all too familiar to months back when… When he thought he saw her.
“You… Uh… Said her name again.” Daryl stood there, one arm rubbing his own bicep, “I’ll go.”
“No-“ The cop protested, glancing up at the man, who was frozen on the spot, “Stay… Please…” His face was twisted into that same agony as earlier, face desperate and eyes pleadingly staring at him.
Daryl looked awkward, which caused Rick to grimace a little. The blankets were pushed away and into the corner, body shifting up towards where his pillows were. He patted the other half of the bunk for Daryl to sit down, sighing softly. He obliged, yet again awkwardly but nonetheless, perching on the edge of Rick’s bunk.
Rick sighed, continuing with talking.
“Well… I… I miss her.” He spoke, head gone from its bowed position to glance at Daryl.
“You know what it feels like…” A swift head turned back to the floor, joining Daryl’s eyes on one of the still stained parts of the floor, a splash of blood almost etched into the floor, stubborn to get out and even worse to hide. Rugs weren’t Rick’s thing.
“I know…” Daryl grunted out, picking at the seam of his pants.
“Do you ever-“ Rick paused, letting out a soft sigh, “Do you ever see him? In your sleep.”
Daryl grunted again, staring at the spot more intensely.
“Sometimes… Not as much now.” He said simply. Half a year ago. Half a year ago he saw him, staggering towards him with blood on his face and those lifeless eyes. Sure, they haunted him for months. But after about five months, he slowly started to forget his eyes. He’d seen a lot more lifeless expressions since he last saw Merle’s.
Rick nodded and looked at Daryl, softer eyes than before. He… He just wanted to feel something, goddamnit. He shuffled closer to the other man, sighing softly and staring at the floor.
“I can't help but… Want to feel something. After Lori, I just felt… Numb.” Rick explained, his voice almost exasperated from talking that quiet.
“What?” He earnt a glance, Daryl’s eyes on his side as he spoke, watching the man slowly and inconspicuously try to scoot closer.
“Company I guess… Like now. Michonne was right, I ain’t livin’...”
A cough sounded from the hunter’s throat, clearly uneasy at that point. After a few seconds of a mental debate, he stood up and checked his knife quickly. Still there.
“Well, uh… Hope you find it.” Came out faster than expected, already making his way to unravel the curtain to leave an opening for him. Rick got up quickly, hand wrapping around his forearm to pull him away from the door.
Panic was in his voice as he was pulling him closer to him, a few inches away from the cloth was separating his dark room and the semi lit hallway outside, ‘Wait- Daryl, please-“
Another breath sounded out, still a little panicked.
“Stay… Please- I have to-“ Sigh. “I have to feel something.”
As Rick’s hand laid upon his forearm, it felt like the contact was burning the man. He was itching to tear away from the touch, but felt himself being endeared towards it. Usually when people, or Rick, touched him it was brief. Short. It was a pat or two on the back, nothing less or nothing more. But this was different. The touch wasn't a bad burning sensation, but it still caused a reaction.
“Feel what-“ Daryl managed, staring at Rick’s face. It was practically unreadable, but he recognised the soft expression. Soft… Right.
“Something! Shit- Anything.”
“What the fuck are you doing man?” Daryl said quickly, staring into the blue eyes in front of him. Yet again, unreadable.
It was repeated, ‘anything’ slipping out of Rick’s lips. It was uttered in a soft whisper, lips subconsciously pursing together . His hands travelled up Daryl’s vest, gripping onto the fabric as he pulled him closer, their bodies less than millimetres away from each other. Daryl could feel his heart pounding in his chest, he could feel Rick’s hands gripping his vest, and last of all…
He could feel Rick’s lips on his own.
Rick had his body pressed against his, hands grabbing at the fabric attached to the man. His lips were pressed against his firmly, moving slightly. At first, processing it all seemed to fly out of the window, Daryl frozen in Rick’s arms. But as the kiss started to get longer in duration, the burning sensation started lingering in his whole body. It wasn't even a bad sensation, versus the cold of the night it practically soothed him into the arms he was being held by. Eyes started to flutter shut, a once tense and stiff body starting to shift into a softer state, one arm hesitantly leaning to hold onto the flannel Rick always wore. Fuck. This motherfucker was actually kissing back.
Lips slowly started to move against each other, arms bringing themselves to an impossibly close proximity. It felt natural at that moment. Sure, nothing about it made sense to Daryl, but with how red his face was and how clouded his mind was, he wasn't exactly thinking straight.
Another few seconds passed before one retracted, Rick pulling away to glance at the other's face. His eyes were still closed, face burning red and even visible in almost pitch black.
“Daryl…” He mumbled as his eyes flickered away from his lips, staring up at his eyes that started to open. Their eyes locked, hands immediately dropping from each other.
Daryl responded with a grunt, it was the norm for him. He turned his head down to stare at that same spot again, fists balled up and at his side.
“Before you say shit, I’m not-“
“Never said you were.” Rick interrupted him. “But you did kiss back.”
“I- No I didn't-“ He grunted again in response.
Rick watched him with a sigh, his whole body yet again tense with what he could only presume as anger, fists tight at his side. His face was red and he was stumbling over his words, face hidden by the amount of hair he had covering it. Who knew a small kiss would turn him into such a ball of rage.
“Deny it if you want… I don't care, I don't. But you-“ Rick let out a breath “Fuck… You kissed me back.”
“I didn't kiss back- Hell I don't even know how to kiss! Ain’t kissed anyone. I don't do that. I ain’t some fag.”
“Hey- Woah… Calm down.” Rick held his hands up in defense, taking the smallest step back to give him the room he assumed he probably needed. Just to process it… Maybe.
Another grunt sounded and he stepped towards the curtain, peering out at the hallway and checking around. “Yknow, if Merle saw that he would’ve beat me black ‘n’ blue.” He explained, before stepping back inside Rick’s cell, closing the curtains tight. As much as he wanted to just get up and leave Rick in that cell, to never speak of it ever again, he couldn't bring himself to. That kiss had anchored him into the room, an anchor he refused to admit that he created himself.
He did enjoy that kiss, and he knew it. He just couldn't say that.
Rick was the leader of their group, he was the one in charge of them all. Daryl tried to never see him as more, but he always failed. To him, he was everything. They’d already been through hell together, and seeing him after what happened at the farm? He had to restrain himself from actually going up to hug the man. He took Merle away from him at the start, starting their relationship off rocky. But after the farm, Daryl knew for sure that he could trust Rick, and during their plight with the Governor, he felt himself getting closer to him. The worst part about all of that was that they could do such in peace. The Governor hadn’t attacked, crops were growing, people were thriving in the prison. He felt like he could drop his guard now. Maybe that was why he was still standing in that cell.
“Merle ain’t around anymore.” Rick said, a gentle manner in his tone. He wasn’t trying to put salt in a wound, he was trying to dress it.
“No one’s gonna think anything different of you just ‘because you shared a kiss?”
Daryl gave another grunt and stared at the floor; moving his arms around a little.
“What if they do…?”
A soft sigh sounded from the cop, glancing over at the man in front of him.
“Then… They’re outta here. I’d think with walkers, homosexuals are the last thing to worry about.” He chuckled weakly, still standing away the slightest to give him this room.
“Who said we’re homosexuals. Rick, you ain’t gay, you had a wife and you got kids and-“
“I can like a bit of both. I’m no stranger to it.”
Daryl looked up at him, involuntarily letting out a sigh. He didn’t want to speak any further but he felt himself nodding, slowly succumbing to all of Rick’s points. Maybe he didn’t have to be scared, hell, if Rick wasn’t…
Daryl had no reason to be.
“So what are we.” He grunted in response, glancing up at the other man.
Taking steps closer to him, hands moved to lay against Daryl’s forearms, his touch still gentle as he caressed it gently.
“We don’t have to know. We can figure this out later… Why don’t we just enjoy it…?”
Moving closer, the gap started to decrease each second. This time, Daryl could feel himself leaning forward as much as his counterpart did. Their lips touched for another second, soft and gentle but just enough for each of them to keep up. Rick could feel the sheer amount of flustered radiating from Daryl, the burning of his cheeks hitting his own as they kissed.
The air was crisp around them, the crickets even settling amongst the grass. The moon was high in the sky, no sign of the sun rising for another few hours. It was dark, it was quiet, and most of all it was peaceful. No one to judge, no one to point at them, no one to sit and wonder what caused them to be this close to one another.
Rick pulled away, a smile settling on his lips. He let his eyes open naturally, having guided Daryl towards the bed. Stifling a yawn, he looked at the eyes in front of him, registering them as less intense, more calmer and steadier.
“We should sleep-“ He said quickly, sitting down on his bunk.
Shit… Now Rick didn’t want him there. Daryl nodded and moved back towards the door, Rick staring in confusion at the man.
“Hey? Where are you going?” He asked.
“Out… You said to sleep.” Daryl grunted again.
“I never said you had to leave.” Rick laid down on his bunk, shifting towards the wall, leaving a perfectly good amount for the hunter to lay down next to him. He pat the mattress with a gentle smile, brushing some curls out of his face. God if any night was a night to cuddle, that would be it.
He never admitted it, but Daryl knew how exhausted he felt. His eyes felt heavy, his body felt achy. He needed a good rest. Walking over, he peeled off his boots and slid his belt off, making sure a knife was in reach of them. He then climbed onto the bunk next to Rick, spotting his arm laid out ready to hold the man tight. The bed creaked as Daryl slid in next to him, huffing and sighing as he laid down.
Eventually, he was down, head resting against his pillow- No wait, Rick’s arm. Rick wrapped his arms around him, bringing him just a little bit closer. One arm slid down to his waist, head pressing against Daryl’s forehead, nose hiding in the mess of hair on his head.
“First kiss, huh?” Rick poked his shoulder, Daryl resisting the temptation to slap his hands away.
“I never got around.” Daryl responded, noticing himself sink into the man's arms properly. Never in his life had he ever felt more secure, he didn’t have anything to worry about. No Merle, no people, he didn’t even have his dad to
judge. It was just him, and Rick Grimes, laid in a bed together.
“I’m honoured.” He teased lightly, receiving a light punch to his chest..
“Get some sleep sweetheart, I know you ain’t been recently.” Rick whispered to him, an even softer kiss pressed against his forehead.
Daryl started to protest, his eyes feeling heavier by the second, “Sweetheart?” He asked, his question laced with a yawn.
“Mhm… Get some sleep.” Rick responded, pushing some hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear, taking the chance to be as intimate as possible with him. A slightly more awake Daryl may not have let him.
Just like that, he was gone to the world. He was fast asleep against him, chest rising and falling steadily as he laid there in the man's arms. It wasn’t long before Rick fell back into sleep again, no trouble from traumatic dreams. Just…
Peace.
There was peace between both the men, something they could relish together.