Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“So, have you had sex with him yet?” Alex asked as Paul took a sip of tea, which the nurse had forced on him when Paul had come into the medical trailer.

Paul didn’t know why he was surprised - Alex was about as subtle as a herd of geese, which the scout had learned during his brief and misguided fling with the nurse when he’d first come to the Hilltop - but he nevertheless nearly chocked on his scolding sip of tea before swallowing it down painfully. He hadn’t let the drink cool down enough in his haste to leave the trailer.

“I don’t see what that has to do with which medical supplies we’re running low on, Alex,” Paul replied, trying to make his burnt tongue sound as stern as he could.
The nurse grinned smugly behind his chipped mug of tea, an expression Paul knew from experience meant that Alex was having fun and didn’t intend to stop.

“I’ll take that as a no then. I’m surprised, rumour has it he’s been spending nights in your trailer.”

People at this place have nothing to talk about but crops and sex, thought Paul in exasperation, even when no sex was being had. It was true that Daryl visited his trailer some nights, but all they did was talk, drink and make out. Daryl had yet to stay the night. Paul had never felt more at home, more content, more at peace with the world then he did with the archers’ arms around him - and that had only a little to do with the man’s biceps. Paul decided not to encourage Alex and blew at his tea as he gestured to the short list of medical supplies on the desk. “What else is needed, we’re leaving for this run first thing in the morning.”

“And you’ve been dating awhile, right? Since before Hershel was born, I heard,” the gossip continued as if Paul hadn’t spoken.

The scout ground his teeth together as he stared at the damp wall of the trailer like he wanted to burn through it with his gaze alone.

“And that was months ago. You had me in bed practically days after we met.” The nurse took a gulp of his tea with relish and let out a self-congratulating little chuckle.

This was unfortunately true. Paul came to the Hilltop after months - which felt like years - outside, during which he witnessed his entire group get bit, get sick, or be slaughtered until he was the only one left. He hadn’t felt human anymore, and he’d thought Alex - with his suggestive smiles and lingering eyes - might have helped. It hadn’t helped. He had felt the same during and after and could barely remember what it had felt like to be with Alex as soon as it was over. He continued feeling like something pretending to be human until he was being chased by a rugged stranger through a field one disastrous day.

But Alex couldn’t seem to let their one-night stand go and mentioned it whenever he got the chance, despite repeatedly being turned down for a repeat performance.

“I’m not talking about Daryl with you, and I don’t want to talk about mistakes that happened a long time ago, so if that’s all we’re short on, I’ll be going now.” This conversation was giving the scout a headache and his tongue still hurt.

Paul went to grab the list of supplies, but Alex grabbed it first. As he scribbled a few more items down he said mockingly with a tinge of anger, “So things aren’t as perfect as they seem, are they, Jesus.”

Paul wanted to say that things where perfect, that Daryl was the first man he’d ever had a relationship with who he could see spending the rest of his life with, and if all they ever did in that life was play cards and hold hands, he would be happy. But Daryl barely talked about their relationship, and it felt wrong to talk about it with someone who was only trying to get rise out of him.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Alex,” he said as he took back the list and left the trailer, his mug of tea abandoned on the desk and his tongue now throbbing.
With the door firmly closed on Alex’s scowling face, Paul looked up in time to see Daryl’s leather clad back retreating around the corner of Barrington house.

-*-

It started slowly, unexpectedly, his and Daryl’s relationship. Of course, Paul had admired the strong and silent redneck from a safe distance, sighing about his biceps and admiring his commitment to his family since before the war.

During the war they fought alongside each other, taking down saviours with frightening efficiency, a brilliant team despite their disagreements on the treatment of surrendering saviours. That was where Paul learned to admire Daryl’s strength and loyalty, where he learned that, despite everything, Daryl was a good man who would risk his own life to save his family’s. And even a guy he barely knew, he added on after Daryl saved his life on the battlefield more the once. It was also where he learned that he was willing to risk his life for Daryl’s too. Which had initially frightened him more than the bullets raining down around them, or the saviour waving a knife at him, or even the walker inches from his face. Never before had he fought with someone, like he had with Daryl. Paul was a lone scout, and he was the one they sent in on solo missions, to sneak in and take, kill or gather intelligence as quiet and unnoticed as an ambiguous shadow. But fighting with Daryl evoked such intense emotions within him that, off of the battlefield, he didn’t know what to say to Daryl or where to look. Maybe Daryl felt the same way, as he never spoke to Paul unless it was necessary or looked his way during the short lulls in fighting. It was strange. They’re relationship was so fierce when they fought together, and so right and easy and intense - Paul recalled Daryl’s body pressing him in to the ground after he tackled him out of the way of a wave of bullets, he remembered the look he would be given when he saved Daryl’s life in return, he had dreams about the sounds the redneck made when they were close together waiting out an attack behind a car or wall - but any other time you would have called them strangers.

It wasn’t until after the war, when a routine was established, that they began to talk. Quiet conversation during guard duty that ended in quiet laughter. Supply run’s that ran as smoothly as a well-oiled machine because they worked so well together, were so in tune when both focused on the same task or machine. They talked about the plans for Hilltop in the future, way’s they could plant more, expand more, places they could scavenge for vital supplies, like lumber and bricks for the houses they could build and to expand the wall. They talked about their mutual friends. The friends they had lost, the ones they could not save. It seemed almost easy to talk about with Daryl, and he knew enough about Daryl to know that talking about his family wasn’t something he did with everyone. It made him glow inside to think that Daryl thought him worthy enough to know about the people that he loved.

Then one day Paul injured himself on a run. It was his own fault, embarrassingly. They were scavenging for medical supplies at a vet clinic, stocking up for when Hershel was to be born, just making sure they had everything they needed. They had already confirmed the place was empty of walkers and collected most of the supplies into a bag, and Paul was showing off. His juggling skills, of all things. He was juggling empty pill bottles, and Daryl was trying his best to scowl at him but a smile was battling it’s way through. Paul wanted Daryl to smile so badly, he would have done anything for Daryl to smile in that moment.

“Stop it, you idiot, we have a job to do,” Daryl told him sternly as he squinted at a half-full pill bottle. He needed glasses, Paul was sure of it, a fact that Paul liked to tease Daryl about occasionally.

“You’re just jealous of my numerous talents,” Paul grinned. Then he decided to demonstrate how he could walk backwards and still juggle. And promptly tripped over an uneven floorboard, scratching his forearm on an exposed nail all the way down.

Paul hissed and grabbed his arm, shooting back to his feet instinctively. Daryl was right in front of him, reaching for his arm, inspecting it. “Huh, see, you’re an idiot,” Daryl breathed through a chuckle, looking into Paul’s eyes with a small, affectionate smile on his lips. “It looks fine, but we should clean it just in case,” he added.

Thrilling inside at Daryl’s proximity and smile, impulsively Paul said, “It might need to be kissed better too.” He instantly wanted to die.

And then Daryl bent his head down and softly brushed his lips along the scratch. Paul had to consciously keep his mouth from dropping open.
“Better?”

Paul nodded dumbly. They quietly grabbed the last of the supplies, and left the vet with a full bag of supplies, still in their sterile wrapping, as well as many bottles of medication. Paul noted a pink tinge to Daryl’s cheek that didn’t go away until they were in the car. Daryl silently got the first aid kit and with gentleness and care cleaned Paul’s wound and covered it with dressing.

As he did, Paul said “This doesn’t seem necessary.”

“Risking an infection doesn’t seem necessary,” countered Daryl.

This time Paul blushed at the implication that Daryl cared whether Paul’s wound got infected or not. Paul admired Daryl at work, watched the concentration in his face and his deft fingers at work. When he was done, Daryl looked back up at Paul and Paul didn’t look away. And when Daryl didn’t break eye contact first, as he was prone to do, Paul leaned in and pressed his lip’s to Daryl’s.

Daryl was still as Paul moved his lip’s gently against his. Paul’s stomach was in knots, his lips almost trembled. Daryl didn’t seem to be reacting and he was scared he had crossed a line. But before he could pull away Daryl started moving his lips in response to Paul’s. A flood of euphoria pulsed through Paul’s veins. He reached up to Daryl’s hair, pulling him deeper in to the kiss, gently touching his tongue to Daryl’s. At this Daryl pulled back, taking in a gasp of air, not meeting Paul’s eye’s, moving back in his seat so he was facing the steering wheel.

Their breathing slowly evened in the silence of the car.

“Was that okay?” Paul couldn’t help but ask. He had suspected that Daryl was attracted to him, had seen his gave linger, had noticed his disinterested in the women that flirted with him. But he also knew Daryl’s background and understood that he may not want to face any attraction he had for Paul and Paul didn’t want to ruin his friendship with Daryl. Paul saw Daryl visibly swallow and it seemed difficult for him to respond.

“That was … That was ... I don’t have words for what that was, but it was more then okay, Paul.” He stared straight ahead when he said it, but Paul didn’t doubt his earnestness.
They’d drove home in comfortable silence.

-*-

That was two months ago, since then they’d only gotten closer. They didn’t walk around hand in hand, but people knew they were together. Daryl’s family seem overjoyed that Daryl had found someone. Paul was certain they knew as Maggie had informed Paul that she was happy for the both of them, whilst also letting Paul know how important Daryl’s happiness was to everyone in the family in a slightly frightening way.

The time they spent alone was as natural as breathing, and Paul hadn’t felt pressure to push it any further. Of course, he wanted Daryl in every possible way, but he wasn’t discontented with what they did together. They kissed on run’s, hot and sweaty in the backseat of the car, but didn’t dawdle out in the open. And they kissed at night in Paul’s trailer, on the night’s that Paul invited Daryl over. Then they only saw each over on run’s, when they where together for guard duty and at meal times. The rest of the time Paul was busy helping Maggie run Hilltop and Daryl was busy with overseeing the expansion of the wall. They were, I guess you could call it, dating.

Paul found Daryl back in their trailer, sat at the foot of the bed. Paul launched into an explanation straightaway.

“I’m sorry about Alex, he’s a dick, I’ll tell him when we get back from the run that our relationship has nothing to do with him- “

“I didn’t know you two had slept together so soon,” Daryl interrupted. He didn’t sound angry, he sounded … lost. Paul was surprised, had thought for sure that all the details of his and Alex’s brief fling was still in the gossip mill at Hilltop.

“It was a long time ago, long before we were together.”

Daryl was silent. Paul drifted closer. “There is nothing between us, if that what your worried about. It was a mistake, I can barley stand him anymore.”

Daryl was still silent, and Paul decided to give him time to answer. He sat down beside him on the bed. Surprisingly, Daryl turned to Paul and started to aggressively kiss him. Relieved that Daryl wasn’t angry at him, Paul kissed him back. Daryl had become skilled at kissing since they started to do it regularly and soon Paul was breathless with Daryl above him on the bed. Their tongues glided together and Paul’s hands twisted in Daryl’s hair. Daryl’s hands were under his shirt, gripping Pauls hips. It wasn’t until Daryl’s hand’s drifted to Paul’s belt buckle that he began to rethink the direction the conversation had taken, despite the thrill that went through him. He really wanted Daryl to continue. As a result, it wasn’t until his belt buckle was undone and zipper down until he reacted.

“Wait, Daryl stop, “ he panted.

“Why, don’t you want to?”

“I do, it’s just Alex-“

“What has what we do have to do with Alex?”

“Nothing, it’s just, I think we should talk about what you overheard?” It came out as a question. Paul had no idea what Daryl was thinking at all. Was he jealous? Hurt? Angry?
Daryl scowled and sat back up. Paul followed him.

“I… I just,” Daryl mumbled. Paul reached over to hold his hand and squeezed it. He waited patiently for Daryl to continue.

“I just didn’t know we were supposed to have had sex yet.” Daryl said it in a rush, staring down in to his lap.

Shocked, Paul responded earnestly “That’s not true, Daryl. We don’t – I mean there is no timeline. We don’t even have to have sex if you don’t want to!”

Daryl glanced at him doubtfully, a doubt which cleared when Paul steadily held his eye contact.

“I do want to, I just you seemed happy with … with what we have been doing and so was I.”

“I am happy, so so happy, Daryl. Alex was just being a jealous dick.”

“Jealous of what, we haven’t even slept together yet, like you two have.”

Daryl’s tone didn’t indicate jealousy. Instead, it was full of doubt. Was Daryl doubting their relationship? Did he think, because they hadn’t slept together, that their relationship was worth less then the fling he’d had with Alex?

Paul was full of passion when he responded, “Daryl, that was just a meaningless fling. Every touch and kiss we exchange means an infinite amount more then anything I ever did with Alex. Then what I have ever done with anyone. We are in a relationship that I never want to end. I don’t care if we never have sex, I just want to be near you.” Paul caressed Daryl’s cheekbone and held his gaze. He let Daryl process his words.

They never talked about their relationship, and while Paul regretted it took Alex involvement for him to earnestly tell Daryl how he felt, he didn’t regret a single word he had just said to Daryl. He meant every word.

When Daryl leaned in to kiss Paul more, Paul pulled back after a few blissful seconds.

“Do you feel the same way?” He asked with his lip’s still close to Daryl’s. He tried not to let any doubt seep into his voice.

“I think I feel it more then you,” Daryl answered with absolute sincerity, and swooped back into show it the best way he knew how. He kissed Paul so deeply and with so much reverence Paul couldn’t help but moan.

Chapter Text

Daryl has thought about Paul everyday since he chased him in a field because of that dammed truck. He was an allusive deity to him for the longest time. Untouchable, distant, goodness that Daryl could only hope to be in the presence of. During the war he obsessed other Paul’s safety, his anxiety going through the roof every time Paul went on a solo run, to the point that he argued with Rick about it.

The argument came to head when Daryl lost his temper and spat in Rick’s face, “You treat him like he’s expandable, like, like he ain’t family!”

This gave Rick pause. “Is he family to you?” he said, surprised. Rick had been insisting on the importance of the runs Paul went on. The mention of family seemed to take him back.

Daryl thought about the gentleness that Paul treated him with when he returned from Negan’s torture. How he gave him his clothes, his bed without question, how he knew not to touch Daryl when he woke up from nightmares in the middle of the night. How he didn’t look at Daryl with pity; only kindness.

“He protects us like family. Why do you think he volunteer’s on so many solo missions? He’s protecting everyone, Rick. Least we could do is the same back.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to him about the mission’s. He insists on going on them. We will brainstorm safer options next meeting.” Rick paused, looking down at the table in front of him, “ I didn’t know you cared so much.”

Daryl flushed, but his voice was strong when he answered. “He’s family.”

Rick glanced up at him for a long moment. “You know you can talk to me about anything, Brother.”

“I do,” he replied.

As he turned to walk out of Rick’s house, Rick called after him, “If he’s family to you, then he’s family to everyone else, okay Daryl.”

He knew he could talk to Rick, but he wasn’t much of a talker and during the war he didn’t have time for words. His sole focus was on keeping his family safe and ending the war.

He knew he loved Paul, he knew because he would do anything to keep him safe, because he dreamed of him, because his heart raced when he was near. Because he was Paul. But right then he’d rather focus on keeping Paul alive then talk to him or even kiss him. He wasn’t going down that road with any one when everyone’s lives were up in the air, like they were then.

So it wasn’t until the war was over that he got an itching under his skin to be closer to Paul, to talk to him, to just … be in his mind somehow. Be someone of importance to him. So, he went on supply missions with him, he talked to him, he became Paul’s friend. But that wasn’t enough. The only thing was that Daryl didn’t know how to ask for more. He didn’t know how to start a relationship with Paul because he never had a boyfriend before. Sure, he had slept with both men and women, had enjoyed those experience. Although he didn’t see why some people became obsessed. It was pleasant, that was all. He had never met someone who he cared enough about to agree to be together regularly. And then the world ended, and he focused on keeping himself and others alive. Everything else was secondary and he only had the energy to fucus on what came first.

And this probably would have continued, even during the peace and growth after the war. If it wasn’t for Paul. He needed Paul like he had never needed anyone else. He wanted him in a way he had never encountered before. He wanted to touch his face, to tuck his hair behind his ear, to brush his lips to his.

So, he talked to Rick.

-*-

“How’d you and Michonne get together?” Daryl asked him one night as they were drinking in Daryl’s tiny trailer at Hilltop. Daryl knew when, he didn’t know how. Rick looked taken aback but answered none the less.

“Err, toothpaste,” he said uncertainly.

“Toothpaste?” Prompted Daryl.

“She wanted toothpaste, but we lost the truck. I brought her back mints instead. We laughed and .. err… the rest was history I guess.”

This didn’t help Daryl. He made Paul laugh plenty. Nothing ever just naturally happened between them after.

“Is this about Paul?” asked Rick, looking enquiringly into Daryl’s face.

“Yeah,” Daryl grunted out, uncomfortable.

“Is it because of the run your both going on tomorrow?”

Daryl glanced away. He struggled for a minute and then said, “I just don’t know how to … let him know I’m interested I guess.”

This is the clearest Daryl had ever been about his interest in men to Rick and if he was surprised, he didn’t show it. It just wasn’t something he thought it was necessary to talk about. Didn’t think it was anyone’s business really. His sex life before had always been private, even with women. He preferred it that way and hadn’t ever been interested in an actual relationship. Until now.

“You could just tell him.” Like Daryl hadn’t thought of that a thousand times. He couldn’t get the words out. What if Paul rejected him? If that happened Daryl knew he’d leave hilltop, camp out in the wood’s until he was ready to face people, and he wasn’t sure if he would come back to Hilltop at all.

“What if Paul doesn’t feel the same way?”

“I think he does, I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Heard the way he talks about you. He cares about you a lot.” Daryl wasn’t so sure.

“Maybe,” He grunted, and the subject was dropped.

-*-

The next day on the run, when Paul was being an idiot, it was like a miracle happened when Paul looked at him with his blue eyes and said, “It might need to be kissed better too.”

He’d been watching Paul all day, looking for any hint that he liked Daryl, like Rick said he did. And when that hint came, so perfectly, so easy to take, Daryl took it and thrilled at the contact between his lips and Paul’s skin. He licked the slight bit of blood off his lip’s when Paul wasn’t looking, happy to have a part of Paul within him.

And, later, when Paul kissed him at first his heart burst so sensational that he didn’t react, and then his heart raced like mad when he did, because it was a thousand times better then any kiss he had ever received before. He wanted to devour Paul then and there, and for a moment he was scared of his own emotions, so he pulled back.

-*-

After two months of being with Paul, Daryl was so content with just kissing Paul, and Paul never pushed for more, that Daryl never sought more. It had occurred to him that maybe they should have had sex by now, but then he thought that maybe this was how dating went. Sex was something you worked up to.

He was also scared, as he always was when it came to Paul. Of losing him or of hurting him or someone else hurting him. But in this case, he was scared of his own emotions. He had never felt this way with someone else before, and his emotions felt like an ocean in his chest, having the same force as waves hurtling at rocks.

The last reason, which he tried to keep at the back of his mind was that he was scared that he wouldn’t be good enough at it, that he would leave Paul unsatisfied. But Paul seemed content, so Daryl held on to that.

Until Alex buttered his head in, that was. That the doubt’s swarmed in and they didn’t go, even after Paul had reassured him and told him how he felt. Which in turn made him more anxious about his own abilities.

When he had tried to get into Paul’s pants, his mind had been determined. Daryl had encountered a problem. The problem was that he and Paul had yet to have sex yet. The solution was to have sex. His mind kept replaying Alex’s, you had me in bed practically days after we met. It ran in circles around his head as he undid Paul’s pants.

Afterwards, he avoided Paul for a whole week.

Chapter Text

After a week, Jesus had had enough of Daryl avoiding him. He craved his touch, his voice, his fucking face. He was pissed.
Not at Daryl, but at Alex. He put doubt in Daryl's mind about their relationship and now Daryl was scared or confused or something. Jesus didn't know because Daryl wasn't talking to him.

It had taken them so long to get where they were and Jesus was worried that they where back to square one. Worse, actually, because Daryl practically changed direction whenever he saw Jesus.

What if Daryl had decided he didn't want to be with someone who had slept around with people in the past? What if Paul having been with Alex was a put off to Daryl? What if this was Daryl breaking up with Paul?

The only option was to ambush him.
Which was how Jesus ended up stalking Daryl through the woods when he was hunting one day.

It didn't take long for Daryl to catch on that he was being followed. Paul soon had a crossbow pointed at him when Daryl suddenly span around and aimed it directly at Paul, who was half concealed behind a tree.

"Jesus, Paul, I coulda 'ave shot you," exclaimed Daryl, lowering his weapon immediately.

"Your eye sight isn't that bad, surely?" Countered Paul.

Daryl ignored the jab at his eye sight. "What do ya want?" He asked abruptly.

"To talk to you," Paul got straight to the point. "Why are you avoiding me? What did I do?" Paul couldn't help the pain that crept into his voice in the last question, and Daryl picked up on it straight away.

"Nothin', Paul, you did nothin'," he said, stepping towards Paul and raising his hand as if to touch him but stopping short at the last moment.

"Then why are you avoiding me? If it's about Alex I swear, him and me are nothing but a mistake I wish I could erase."

Daryl signed deeply. Chewed on his thumb. Paul could tell he was working up the courage to say something important.

But instead Daryl restated; "Why are you here?"

Paul took a step forward. "Because I miss you," he said simply.

Another step. "I miss talking to you."

Another. "I miss kissing you."

Another. A whisper. "I miss touching you-"

Paul was cut off by Daryl's lips. By Daryl's tongue in his mouth and hands on his face. Soon Paul was pressed against a tree and had his hands under Daryl's shirt.
His hands glided over the muscles of Daryl's back as Daryl depend the kiss. Daryl's hands snuck to Paul's thighs, squeezing them before gliding up to Paul's ass.

Daryl suddenly pulled away, and muttered "I missed you too." Then Daryl, always surprising Paul, dropped to his knees in the grass and tugged at the waistband of Paul's pants.

Paul was so surprised he exclaimed, "What are you doing?!"

Daryl sat back on his heels. "What does it look like I'm doin'?" He asked, annoyed.

Paul sensed he was in dangerous territory. He softened his voice, "It's just I know what happened with Alex upset-"

"Paul," Daryl was definitely very annoyed, "this is not about Alex."

"Then what is it about?"

"I wanna suck you dick, man. What else does it look like?" To illustrate his point, Dary rubbed the front of Paul's jeans whilst making eye contact.

Paul had to bite his limp to stop any involuntary noises at the unexpected move.

"Why have you been avoiding me if not because of Alex?" He forced out, trying not to push his hips in to Daryl's hand, which wasn't moving but still touching him.

"Please stop saying his name." Daryl removed his hand but stayed on his knees. He signed, rubbed the back of his neck, looked down at his lap. Where he delivered his short speech.

"I don't care about what you've done with Alex. I care about what me and you do together and I'm scared ... scared that I won't be good at it. I want to please you and I don't want to disappoint you."

For some reason, this made Paul harder, which he hadn't thought possible. Daryl wanted to please him. Oh god.

"Daryl you could never disappoint me and you already please me plenty." Paul crouched down to Daryl's level and pecked him on the lips.

Daryl pulled back immediately. "Then stand up and let me please you some more. Because what I want more then anything is to show you more pleasure then any one else has ever. Let me prove I can do it, please." Daryl was begging Paul. Paul was surprised he didn't blow his load at Daryl's plea. He stayed crouched, shocked for a second, and then stood up. How could he deny such a well put request.

"Yes Daryl," he threaded his hands in to Daryl's hair. "You can please me all you want."

Daryl wasted now time undoing Paul's belt and zipper. He pulled out Paul's dick reverently and licked the tip before engulfing Paul in to his warm mouth right down to the base.

It was long until Paul was a shuddering, moaning mess, the tree probably the only thing keeping him upright. He watched Daryl's head bob up and down enthusiastically and tried his hardest to keep from pushing his hips forward to meet Daryl's lips. Daryl kept tugging at Paul's hips until eventually he pulled off.

"Fuck my mouth, please," he hoarsely whispered, then plunged back on to Paul's dick. How could Paul deny him. He fucked Daryl's mouth until he felt his orgasm rising, Daryl's please repeating itself in his head the whole time.

"I'm going to come," he warned Daryl.

Daryl sucked harder until Paul was coming down his throat with a loud moan

Paul slumped boneless against the tree as Daryl pulled off and kissed Paul's dick.

Daryl looked up at Paul above him. "Thank you."

"Thank you?"

"Yes, I really enjoyed sucking your dick Paul. I want to do it as often as possible."

"I have no problem whatsoever with that."

Chapter Text

For the whole week Daryl imagined scenarios of how it would go if he went further with Paul. How it would feel, what he would say, what Paul would say… he Imagined and imagined, practicing in his mind, all the time avoiding Paul in person like he had the plague.

When he finally had Paul in front of him, he decided he would imagine no more. He was sick of ruminating and second guessing himself. Daryl was never one to think to much about his actions before he did them. He wasn’t used to this prolonged indecision. Action, he decided, in the moment where he finally had Paul back in front of him, was the best course of action.

When he finally had Paul’s dick in his mouth all the indecision flew out of his mind. Why had he been so apprehensive? This was perfect, Pauls moans, the feel of him in his mouth, the smell, the pleasure he felt from knowing he was pleasuring Paul. He never wanted it to end.

When it did, he couldn’t help the words that followed. He wanted to do it all over again right then.

Soon Paul was on the floor with him again and kissing him breathlessly. His tongue was in his mouth, no doubt tasting himself on Daryl’s tongue. The thought made Daryl moan helplessly. Paul pushed Daryl slowly back until Paul was on top of Daryl in the grass and Daryl was helplessly rubbing himself against Paul’s hip. It was so intense Daryl broke the kiss and arched his neck back, whimpering.

“Are you close?” Paul huffed out.

“So close.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we,” chuckled Paul, lifting his hips away from Daryl.

“Wh-what,” stuttered Daryl.

Paul didn’t answer, only sat up, kneeling in between Daryl’s sprawled legs. He undid Daryl’s belt and pants, taking out Daryl’s dick, and slowly pumping it in his fist. He watched the pleasure flitting across Daryl’s face before leaning down to take Daryl in his mouth.

He worked up and down Daryl’s dick until Daryl was on the brink then stopped. Waited for Daryl’s breath to even out. The did it again. And again.

Soon Daryl could not make an understandable noise and was completely at Paul’s mercy. After what felt like hours to Daryl, Paul finally let him come.

After wards, Daryl panted in the grass whilst Paul snuggled up to him, kissing him all over the face, neck, and slightly exposed chest until Daryl found it in himself to speak.

“Was it good?” Daryl asked quietly, cautiously.

“It was much more then good Daryl. It was amazing.” Paul paused his kissing, “I can’t believe you thought I would be disappointed, that was the best blow job of my life.”

“Same here.”

“Imagine how good it would be if we actually managed to get our clothes off.”