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The walkers had come out of nowhere, like in a magical trick, they suddenly were everywhere, surrounding them. There weren’t enough to call it a horde but there were still too many to try anything.
Daryl stabbed his way through the crowd trying to reach Paul who was fighting near the door of what appeared to be an old post office, kicking some heads in like the fricking ninja he was.
The scout then plunged his weapon into the temple of what must have been a woman once when the archer finally popped up beside him.

« There’s too many of ‘em assholes, go inside! »

Paul nodded, focused on the two walkers he was trying to keep as far as possible from himself and his teammate.
Daryl thrust his knife into what was probably the empty orbit of a geek, but the thing was so old it was hard to tell. Some were so emaciated that it’d become difficult to even recognize a human shape.
He was disgusted by the sound the movement produced. The whole world now smelled like human decay.

After a few minutes of fierce battle, Daryl eventually grabbed Paul by the shoulder and pulled him inside the building. They immediately threw themselves on the door to block it, the muscles on their arms stretched by the effort that it represented.

Everything happened then very quickly.

A dead man in an old uniform who seemed pleased to receive a visit appeared behind Paul, grabbed his arm and dipped all his teeth on his prey. Paul uttered a cry of surprise mixed with pain and quickly got rid of the thing by throwing his head on the door they had managed to keep closed.

Daryl felt his thoughts jostling in his mind. He was shaking like a leaf and it was not just due to the rather impressive resistance of the walkers. He suddenly had a huge ball of emotions stuck in his throat and it made him want to throw up everything he had been eating since last year.
Paul had been bitten on the arm. With a bit of luck – Ha! As if there was still such a thing as luck in this goddamn world- if they acted quickly, he could save him. He only had to cut above the elbow, just to be sure. Right, he just had to cut Paul’s arm. Easy peasy. He only needed to make a tourniquet with his belt, roughly clean his knife, find something solid for Paul to bite onto, and cut clean.

And he had to act right this second.

Noticing the cabinet on his right, he motioned to Paul. They knew each other for a long time now and it sure as hell wasn’t the first time they carried out this kind of mission together so they no longer needed words to understand each other. The scout shifted his weight against the door and moved into position to replace Daryl.
After some effort, the archer managed to push the piece of furniture against the wooden panel.
Panting, Paul took a step back but did not go any further: Daryl was on him before he could just blink.

"Show me your arm," the archer darted on him a hallucinated look. With both hands, he frantically sought to reach the wound of the youngest man and it took him a few seconds to realize that if he did not find anything, it was because there was actually nothing to find.
He looked up and their eyes met.

"I'm fine, Daryl, it did not bite through. Leather coat, remember? I'll only have one hell of a bruise tomorrow. I'm fine. "

As the eldest was obviously not convinced by the soothing tone he had tried to adopt, he opened his mouth to ask him to breathe deeply through his nose but he did not have the opportunity to do so because Daryl was suddenly kissing him. Full on the mouth. With a fierce passion and a nimble tongue. The kind of kiss he had not given him since he asked him to take a break last year after Negan was defeated.

Paul was lost. Confused and actually rather upset. He harshly pushed Daryl away and gave him a cold look before turning away.

"I take the first watch. Relay me in two hours. "

The archer immediately followed suit. The call had been too close and right now? He needed to have Paul in his field of vision. And obviously they had to talk. They should have had this conversation months ago and to be honest, Daryl was tired of procrastinating.

He had been a damn pussy about it, about his… feelings for Paul, and it needed to stop right the fuck now.
He reached his hand out, aiming to grab the scout’s elbow.

“Please… just let me talk to you!”

Paul brushed him off without glancing at him.

“Oh, so now you want to talk?”

Daryl huffed in frustration and in two long strides, he was in front of the scout, forcing him to stop.
Paul balled his fists, not sure if he should try and take a swing at the guy yet or not. Finally he just looked away.

“Is this a game for you? You think you can play it off and on with me whenever you feel like it?”

“What? No, come on!”

Still not over his earlier fright, he raised his hand, needing some kind of physical reassurance that Paul was really there, safe and alive. Paul slapped it away, glaring, and hissed a low “Don’t.” and Daryl got the message loud and clear. The most important person in his life was definitely alive, and damn was he pissed. That just couldn’t end well for his sorry ass.
He braced himself, thinking “Yeah, here we go, we’re gonna be at each other’s throat in about 3, 2, 1…”

“I still love you, you know.”

Daryl froze. That wasn’t at all what he had expected to hear –in fact he never had expected anything really, kissing Paul back then had been a surprise even for him- but he liked it very much. Trying not to overthink it, he gulped down, at a loss about how to answer because damn, he was still Daryl fucking Dixon and he didn’t know shit about… well, feelings.
His heart was doing weird things in his ribcage, like it was trying to escape or something. And Paul was looking at him now, with so much green in his unfairly huge eyes he thought he wouldn’t be able to make out any other color from now on. It was ridiculous. He was a grown ass man for fuck sake!
He knew Paul was still waiting for him to find his voice and in his hurry to answer something – anything! - He blurted out:

“I thought you forgot about me.”

Okay, that wasn’t so bad actually. He did thought that the ninja had moved on from… Whatever it was they once had. In all fairness, he had put a lot of effort into trying not to think too much about how Paul had probably found what he deserved with someone that wasn’t him. Because back in the day, he had been a fucking broken mess and he hadn’t wanted to let the smaller man go down with him. He’d never known after that, if Paul had been seeing someone else or not. He hadn’t been sure about his ability to handle the answer.
So yeah, it was kind of a surprise to him, hearing that maybe, after all this time – a fucking year for Christ’s sake! - He still had a place somewhere in Paul’s heart.
Fuck. He was such a sap. A sap, and an absolute ass.

“I tried.”

Paul looked… sad. Like he had no fight left in him anymore and that was another unsuspected mindfuck for Daryl. Paul, with his Jesus persona, was always fighting against something, someone or himself when he ran out of external stimulation.
The scout sighed and crossed his arms on his chest in an unconscious attempt to protect himself from that whole conversation.

“But you’re not that easy to forget, I guess.”

Again, Daryl had no idea what to say. He wanted to make things better for Paul, hell even for himself, but he had no idea where to begin. So he just kept staring at the scout from under his long bangs, silently pleading the ninja to keep talking, to guide him in the right direction.
But of course for once in his life, Paul stayed silent. He sat down of the floor, back against the wall, and closed his eyes. He felt exhausted, like talking about love – because it really was what this was all about, right? - To Daryl had drained him of his strength.
After a minute, Daryl sat down beside him, their shoulders touching. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noticed that this time Paul wasn’t escaping his touch and he almost sagged in relief. He really, really liked touching Paul.

Curiously, the silence wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable. Paul had said what he’d needed to say, and Daryl had heard him.
Outside, the sun was starting to set, casting a warm orange glow in the room. Daryl noticed that from this angle and with this light, Paul’s hair looked like sweet honey.
He craved it suddenly. The easy familiarity he had with him. The habit he had of noticing little things about Paul to store it in his mind for later use. He realized then that it was exactly what he had just done with his hair: He noticed a cute detail and kept it away to use it latter as a nice thing to look at, saving it for rainy days. Good Lord, he was so screwed.

“I do, too.”

The scout opened his tired eyes and arched an eyebrow at him, silently questioning. Daryl felt his heart melt. He really wanted to kiss his eyelids and let him sleep until shit were settled. Instead, he cleared his throat and played with his shoe.

“You know… Love you?”

Paul’s hand found his on his ankle and Daryl honestly couldn’t tell which one of them entwined their fingers together. It felt nice. Warm.
Then Paul’s head was against his and he was afraid to breath and scare him away. When he expired and nothing happened, he felt free to nudge his cheek into Paul’s hair, enjoying the softness and the smell of it for the first time since way too long. He definitely was in love with the guy.

“What do we do now?”

He finally – finally! – Kissed the top of Paul’s head and carded all five fingers through the golden bangs, putting it clumsily back behind his ears. Paul replied by taking his hand and kissing his palm with a tender smile. They had no idea what the future could be made of, but they made their choice: they were gonna find out together.

They settled back down, side by side, holding hands, and waited for the night to fall and the walkers to wander off.

Chapter Text

Fear

The day had started like any other day: with some chores, a light breakfast that wasn’t worth remembering and the constant chatter of the Hilltop scout, until Daryl managed to dump the fucker with Michonne and hurried outside the gates. How could such a short being be so annoying was beyond Daryl.

Jesus had arrived at Alexandria the previous week and since then, he’d been staying at Daryl’s, owning the place like Daryl never had, making himself at home by scattering his stuff all around – his boots near Daryl’s in the hallway, his toothbrush in his fucking glass, his many books everywhere from the dining table to the toilets to Daryl’s very own bed and when the fuck did that little shit even got close to his room? – and simply by being comfortable enough in the house to be wandering about half naked like he presently was, a white towel hanging low on his narrow hips.

So since he passed the door, coming back from an eventful and frankly quite boring hunt, Daryl’s day was getting worse by the second. Because of course, the prick didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. If ever, he looked smug, smirking like a dumbass while brushing his hair out of his stupidly pretty face.

Daryl, his ears burning hot, groaned in irritation and made to leave, not at all disposed to handle Jesus’ shit right now. But a wrinkled piece of paper hitting him square in the head stopped him dead in his track. Slowly turning he faced the guy, the notepad still in hand, obviously not caring in the slightest that he had been caught red handed. Well, there were only the two of them inside anyway so denying wouldn’t have helped his case. Not quite furious but getting there – God help him, it wasn’t even a full minute in Jesus’ close proximity! - he hissed:

“You got a death wish or something?”

Jesus, smile gone now, just shrugged. He threw the notepad on the couch and didn’t bother to pick it back up when it fell.
He then tilted his head to the right, leveling Daryl with that x-ray look of his and the hunter shivered in spite of the summer like warmth.

“What are you so afraid of?”

Daryl snorted. From where did that come from?? That moron really was something. “Well, keep that up asshole and you’ll be the one afraid.”

It made Paul roll his eyes in false annoyance, his easy smile crawling back into place. Just to see it widen – because it definitely was better to have Jesus in a good mood than in a sour one, Christ, the guy had some serious ninja move – he deadpanned:

“And I know your small body is a deadly weapon, no need to show off, good Lord. Put some clothes on before you hurt someone.”

Jesus was grinning now. “Ha. Ha.” Then out of the blue, he was deadly serious again. How could someone switch emotions so fast? Was it even humanly possible? Great, now the guy had superpowers. Unaware of Daryl’s internal conflict, Jesus added:

“You know what I meant.”

Of course he did.

“No, I don’t”. Playing the dumb redneck had worked for him pretty well so far so, yeah, it had been worth a try. Then after a beat, and only because Jesus - more eyes than man with how big he was making them - was about to call him out on his bullshit, he grumbled:

“I ain’t afraid of nothing.”

He was expecting a laugh or some kind of banter but all he got from the still underdressed man was a thoughtful expression. The scout then came closer, so much closer that Daryl could actually count his eyelashes. Startled, he took a step back, ashamed by his instinctual reaction. Jesus instantly did the same, nodding as he knew he just proved his point, hands in the air as if to show the hunter that he was harmless. Which wasn’t true at all, Daryl had seen the guy fight in a battle with absolutely no other weapon than his own limbs and besides, it wasn’t really Jesus’ violence that Daryl feared at the moment. Glancing up from the corner of his eyes, he got an eyeful of smooth creamy skin starting from the guy’s neck to his nipples and to his adorable bellybut… -

“That’s sad. Without fear, I guess there is no bravery, right?”

Daryl stumbled out of his daydream, swallowing nervously. He had no clue where this conversation was going but somehow, he didn’t like it at all.

“Whatever, man.” He tried to leave again, in a desperate move to avoid facing whatever it was that Jesus wanted to talk to him about. Once more, Jesus stopped him by opening his trap.

“I’m afraid.”

Daryl shot him a weird glance, crossing his arms on his chest, silently giving him permission to continue.

“I’m… fucking terrified to be honest. The things I feel when it comes to you…” he trailed off not knowing how to explain what he was thinking.
Crap. Daryl was mortified. He shouldn’t have let the prick stop him. Now, he was stuck. There was no way he could go away after Jesus dropped that bomb on him as if it wasn’t a big deal. He couldn’t have been worse if he had been struck by lightning. He had a tendency to forget how comfortable the scout was, talking about feelings and shit. The dumbass even seemed kind of relieved, now that it was out in the open.
The ninja smiled softly and carried on, eyes glued to Daryl’s to gauge his reaction:

“But that fear also his my strength. It’s what makes me come back to you even when you’re an asshole and that happens an awful lot.” He honest to god winked sweetly at Daryl and his heart skipped a bit- or ten.

“My fear is made of hope, you know? That one day, you’ll trust me enough to let me show you a new path. That you’ll let yourself feel. And I’ll be there. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jesus scratched his arm, sort of waiting for the right words to pop up in his mind. He had so much to say whenever Daryl was concerned. He also knew that he was walking on thin ice here, so he was cautious with his speech.

“I just want to see you happy again. I want you to smile and laugh. I hate how you survive because I want you to live, Daryl. And of course, if I could be a part of that life, that would be an amazing bonus. ”

Daryl noticed that the scout was doing this thing with his hands, the thumb of one rubbing the palm of the other. It was his signature nervous gesture and the hunter couldn’t help but find it endearing as hell.
The prick was gonna be the death of him.
Taking a deep breath to try and calm his mind going wild with possibilities, he groaned:

“Are you done?”

Jesus let out a small strangled laugh. He licked his lips, not failing to notice how not subtle Daryl was at following the movement of his tongue.

“Not even close.”

Daryl fidgeted on his feet, rolling his eyes impatiently and finally yanking the scout closer by his arms – And God, his skin was as smooth as he had dreamed of and even more addictive.

“Can’t wait to hear what more you have in store. Damn motormouth.” He half-joked, half-whined. And with that he leaned in, resting his forehead against Paul’s.

Yeah, Paul was alright. He liked him better than the perfect holy Jesus persona. Paul was real, consistent, and solid under his palms, against his head. Jesus belonged to the others, he was a friend, a scout and an impressive martial artist or whatever, but Paul… Paul was his. He finally understood what the hippie had been offering him all this time. And the gift scared him shitless. He had no idea what to do of his own broken heart, what good could he do with Paul’s?

He searched for the scout’s gaze and felt like crying. The man was totally at ease, eyes soft and warm and caring… trusting Daryl not to hurt him, like the mere idea of it was silly. Then he was smiling with something like fondness in the curve of his lower lip and deep inside of him his fear snapped in half.

It would probably take time to feel like himself again, but Daryl was willing to give it a try. He was willing to try anything if it means seeing more of Paul’s kind smiles.
Shyly, he kissed the top of the man’s nose, not daring to aim for those kissable lips just yet.
Paul huffed a laugh, beaming at him.

“Took you long enough.”

Daryl snorted and shoved him away none too gently, smirking when Paul almost lost his balance and had to grip on Daryl’s wrist to remain standing.

“Yeah, well, don’t make me regret it already, prick.”

The mischievous glint in Paul’s eyes made his throat go dry. Damn. Not that he would ever let him know, but he was actually thankful for the scout stubbornness. It helped him dig Daryl’s head out of his own ass, and now he couldn’t wait to show him that he too, could be brave.

Picking up a shirt from the box of clean ones the nice lady in charge of laundry had dropped here the day before, he handed it to Paul. “Here.”

Paul took it with a teasing smile and a wriggling of his eyebrows and the hunter flushed red. Then he by passing Daryl in order to get to the bathroom to change. When he was close enough, Daryl bumped into him to get his attention back.

“Hey… Wanna hang out later? I’m on watch now, but…”

It felt like Paul would’ve been bouncing up and down the walls with excitement if Daryl hadn’t take a hold of his wrist, thumb lightly caressing the skin there.

“I’ll meet you at the gate in three hours. There’s something outside I’m dying to show you since yesterday!”

He carried on about his big surprise, but Daryl wasn’t listening anymore. He was focused on the hand Paul had put on his arm.
He had no reason to be scared. Paul wouldn’t hurt him to save his life and he himself would do anything to protect the hippie. And nothing really changed either, it was still Paul, it was just nicer to know that from now on they had each other’s back in the most intimate way possible.
Well, having Paul in his life could very well be the most amazing bonus.

Chapter Text

The day was hot. Terribly, unforgivingly hot. Daryl, sweat dropping down his spine, felt sticky, filthy and was even grumpier than he had been waking up that morning alone in his big-ass sleeping bag, no Paul in sight and no coffee left in the pot thanks to that Alden asshole and his caffeine addiction. He was exhausted, more than fed up with spending his day on a bike, ahead of their group because he was the only one riding something that could actually move fast. The sun was cooking his brain and what used to be Atlanta was now a creepy ghost-town with some occasional walkers lurking around, more walking bones than anything close to a human being anymore really, and the silence of the streets over the strangely loud noise of his brand new two-wheeled-toy made him nervous.

For the hundreds of times this day he killed the engine at a crossroad, staring longingly at his left then his right, as if waiting for some cars to speed up again at the green light or something.
He reached for the bandana covering his mouth and pulled it down, sneezing in the process because damn, that road was more dust than asphalt and as he was the first living thing breathing around since a very long time, it seemed like the dust had been specifically waiting for him to show up to hurry down his throat by his nostrils.

If he despised Atlanta before the Outbreak, now he totally hated it.

His head was killing him, the sun was killing him, the road was killing him… Hell, even the geeks were nicer to him lately than Mother Nature or what was left of her after the soldiers bombed the city and its surrounding back in the day.

Grumbling to himself, Daryl wiped the sweat from his brows and looked behind his shoulder, searching for the familiar silhouettes of his family, way back up the road somewhere.

He had to wait 8 full minutes before getting a glimpse of what was supposedly horses with men on their backs. They were still too far for him to make out who exactly was in the front line but he sighed in relief anyway, already feeling better now that he could keep an active eye on the people he cared for. He sat up straighter, observing the procession coming down his way, loving the soothing noise of the horses’ hooves in the otherwise quiet street.

Finally, his little –well, not so little anymore- family was in shouting range and Daryl automatically started to count them, having to perform this reassuring ritual of his to stop worrying about his people’s wellbeing. While he was counting, Rick approached him, a smile eating half his sun-burned face.

“You outta gas yet?”

Daryl huffed a groan and shot his brother a mean glance.

“You wish. Was waitin’ for your lazy ass. Took you long enough.”

Rick shrugged, smile not even wavering at his brother obvious sour disposition.

“Yeah, we had to stop once or twice. Scavenging, remember?”

Daryl just grunted, eyes on the rest of the family. His heart was beating faster in his ribcage as he still couldn’t spot Jesus anywhere.
He opened his mouth to ask Rick about the scout absence when he spotted the ninja’s black horse walking behind Tara’s brown one, his rider MIA.

“Where the fuck is Paul?” He blurted out, cutting Rick off in the middle of a sentence about… Well Daryl couldn’t care less about what.
Rick frowned, looked back following Daryl’s eyes and nodded as if just remembering something he was meant to tell his best friend.

“Oh, he went on foot.”

As if that much wasn’t obvious already. Daryl blinked a few times at him, wordlessly asking for more information and Rick smiled reassuringly.

“He’s okay, just wanted to have a look around.”

He searched Daryl’s eyes and his smile wavered. He stopped his horse close to the bike.

“You want to go look for him?”

Observing how Jadis laughed at something Aaron told her, Daryl shrugged and clicked his tongue in a negative noise.

“Nah, you know him, the asshole will pop up where we least expect him to.”

Daryl swallowed thickly. He knew Paul was more than able to take care of himself, the guy was a freaking ninja, all compact muscles and working cells brain but still. He didn’t have to like it. Knowing that Paul was sneaking out alone in this fucked up world always made his skin pickles. He loved the man, but if the guy ended up dead somewhere because he was dumb enough to wander around by himself, he was gonna kill him.

Coming back to the present, Daryl nodded at Rick one last time before starting his bike again. It was time to hit the road. The archer did his best not to think too much about the ninja whereabouts and sped up, signaling for his family to keep moving.

In the late afternoon, the heat became somehow more bearable. It was still way to warm for Daryl’s licking but it was slightly better. Carol was still wearing her weird grey hat, not minding at all her man’s banters, and even Michonne had put some kind of red piece of cloth on her head to protect herself.

Daryl had stopped again a minute ago to let his family catch up with him.
But he wasn’t really good at handling the wait. His nails were already short but it didn’t prevent him from trying to chew on them some more.
He perfectly knew that he wouldn’t be able to relax until Paul came back, and with the sun getting low it shouldn’t take him long now, but that wasn’t enough to calm his buzzing mind.

So he decided to go back.

His boyfriend was on foot, which means he would move slower than them, and he didn’t want him walking in the streets at night, fighting walkers with just the knife he went away with, almost blind in the dark in spite of his cat-like skills.

He roared his way up to the group and stopped close to Rick and Maggie, who was now on Paul’s horse instead of driving the carriage. Michonne apparently took her place, and Enid was on Michonne’s brown animal.
They both slowed down, their eyes questioning, and Daryl had to speak louder than usual to cover the bike’s noise reverberating from the empty roads.

“‘M goin’ back. We’ll meet ya all later at the museum.”

Rick furrowed his brows but nodded, knowing exactly why his brother was leaving. Maggie smiled kindly, well aware of Daryl’s thoughts.

“We’ll wait for you guys. Don’t take too long, ok? No need to have Carol going after you, Ezekiel going after her, Jerry after him, Enid after him, Aaron after her…”

Rick snorted as Maggie trailed off and Daryl rolled his eyes so hard he could have pulled a muscle there somewhere.

“Yeah whatever.”

They both waved him off, twin smiles on their stupid faces.

**

It took him a little bit more than an hour to find the scout. Daryl was great at tracking, he knew it and was proud of it, but there was more to it than that today. He had known where to look because he was so familiar with Paul’s way of thinking that it wasn’t even funny anymore.

So 75 minutes after taking off, he found himself outside an old looking library. There was 5 piles of books near the doors and if he ever had a doubt about his instinct, he was now absolutely certain that his badass bookworm of a lover was indeed inside.

He didn’t even try to hide his grin as Paul came out as if summoned, arms full of books of various shapes and weight.

The scout then locked eyes with Daryl, not surprised at all to see the hunter here when he was supposed to be guiding the family (yeah Daryl had come on a bike, and one noisy enough to wake up the dead, but still, it was kind of frustrating how hard Paul was at surprising.) and the smile he gave him made Daryl’s heart bounce like a crazy butterfly trapped in a jar.

“Hey stranger. Missed me?”

Daryl snorted, putting his weight back on the bike and crossing his arms on his torso.
He scratched his nose with his thumb, wanting to reply with a snarky comment of his own, but not finding one. He felt exhausted and the relief that washed over him at seeing his man well and smiling had erased any thoughts off of his mind. He was content watching Paul watch him, like the universe was back on its tracks again now that Paul was beside him.

Not minding the lack of answer, the scout carried on with his task, whatever it was, and for a minute they just existed together, glad for the other soothing presence.

Finally, the scout climbed down the few stairs and came close enough to peck his boyfriend’s lips sweetly.

“Everything’s alright?”

Drowning in the more-blue-than-green-today eyes searching his, Daryl simply nodded before putting his hands on the slim waist in front of him. He rested his head on Paul’s shoulder, breathing him in, relaxing totally now that he had the younger man back where he belonged.

Paul sighed happily and went with the program, burying his face in Daryl’s neck, always in for cuddles.
They hugged for some undefined times, not talking, just enjoying the closeness, sharing touches, tasting the other’s skin.
They kissed again, a soft press of their lips that quickly became a full make-out session with a lot of tongue and open mouths.
Daryl’s hands landed from Paul’s shoulders to his ass and he squeezed, loving the moan it gained him. Then Paul sucked on Daryl’s lower lip while also sneaking his clever fingers under his lover’s pants and underwear to press hard into his ass-cheeks and Daryl groaned in the kiss. He felt Paul smile against his lips and he kissed him harshly, all teeth and little bites. That cheeky bastard was gonna be the death of him one day.

He almost lost it when said fingers, still holding on his ass like on a lifeline, found his crack and started to caress the skin there.
He gasped loudly, loving way too much how it felt to have Paul anywhere near his ass, so he tried to push the smaller man away before there was no going back.
Of course, the asshole knew perfectly what effect he was having on his lover and was clearly enjoying himself, if the way he was trying to suck Daryl’s brain out by his mouth while still caressing him down there was any indication.

Quickly running out of option to get rid of the sexy octopus clinging to him, preferably before they started to fuck like bunnies in the middle of the street, in the middle of an apocalypse, Daryl had no other choice than to put his hands back on the scout’s sides and to tickle him mercilessly.
Paul yelped in surprised, instantly retracting on himself, and putting some distance between them, to try to escape the attack that came out of nowhere.

Feeling smug, Daryl didn’t stop, not impressed at all by the amount of wriggling from his lover or by his cute face red from laughter and exertion. He followed him down when the scout thought he stood a chance at escaping by dropping on the floor.
He only agreed to pause when the younger man started to choke on air beneath him, hair a total mess and tear tracks down his cheeks.
Daryl was mesmerized. Paul was achingly handsome like that, surrendering, laughing, trust and love shining in his wide eyes. Daryl wasn’t a poet by any mean, but if he ever had to write a list about why he loved Paul, that face of his, and the way he laughed probably would end up in the first item.

Daryl kissed him again because why not? He was addicted to Paul’s taste anyway. And his tongue could do things that made his inside go liquid.

“Say: I’m an absolute ass, Daryl deserves better. And I’ll stop.”

Paul squirmed against him, testing Daryl’s hold on his wrists, playfully trying to get free without even trying to hide how little effort he put into it.

“Sorry Miss Umbridge, but I’m not supposed to lie.”

Daryl quirked an eyebrow before rolling his eyes. He was pretty sure his boyfriend had stolen that line from one of his many favorite books, even if he had no idea which one. He didn’t really care anyway.

“You’re such a fucking nerd…”

Paul faked to pout, the thin line of his mouth too appealing for Daryl to not lick it with adoration. The younger man started laughing again and Daryl sighed.

“Fine. Don’t say anything. Kiss me.”

Paul easily complied, trying to get up on his elbows to have some kind of leverage but Daryl didn’t let him. He bent down once their lips were touching to crush his lover into the bitumen, knowing fully well how much Paul loved feeling his full weigh on his body.
Then in one smooth and almost graceful movement, he stand up, smirking at his dazzled boyfriend.

“Come on. We need to get movin’.”

The scout extended a hand, expecting Daryl to help him up, which he did. Paul smiled at him, went on his tiptoes to give him an Eskimo kiss so slow and fond that the hunter started to think that maybe fucking Paul right here right now wasn’t such a bad idea. But then the smaller man took a step back, pressing his hand one last time.

“I have something to show you.”

“Yeah?”

The younger man hmmed and went to sat at the motorcycle handlebars, adjusting slightly on his sit and starting the thing on.
Daryl came closer, one brow up, half-amused that the man really thought he get to drive Daryl’s bike just like that, half-curious about this thing the ninja wanted to show him.

“What d’ya think you’re doin’?” he asked.

Turning to face him, the younger man just smiled, his eyes shining with mischief.

“Do you trust me?”

Daryl snorted, eyeing him up and down.

“What is this, Aladdin?”

Paul huffed a laugh and stood up, somehow managing to keep his control over the machine, to peck Daryl on his cheek.

“Come on, Jasmine, let’s go!”

The hunter grunted when the smaller man burst out laughing at his own stupid joke, and slapped the back of his head for his trouble, muttering “fucking asshole brat, should have let you walk to the camp…” loud enough for the driver to hear him clearly. Still, he took his sit behind him, put both arms around the man’s waist and if his hands went lower and lower during their trip, brushing the scout’s crotch from time to time, it was totally involuntary.