dadyl | 𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ;

[ He's careful to pull out of Gabe before he moves, but that's the last thing Daryl can think coherently about for a good few seconds. It seems harder for him to force his arms to let go than it is to just turn, so Daryl takes a couple of unsteady steps over to the bed so he can let Gabe down gently and collapse next to him at the same time. His arms feel weightless once he's let go of him. His legs feel like wood.

The rest of him is completely depleted and he just lies there on one elbow, catching his breath. ]

You okay?

[ He means a lot of things at once - did I hurt you, was it good - but mostly he just wants to hear that Gabe's head isn't on fire. That whatever has been happening isn't still fucking happening. ]

Edited 2021-09-12 20:17 (UTC)

[ One of these days, it'll stop throwing Gabe when people are careful with him. Back home, most of his hookups were rough and quick. Toss in some friendly banter, go break a headboard or two, thoroughly scandalize the neighbors, and then he'd up and leave. One and done. And then of course there was Jackie, popping in and out of Gabe's life like a wayward cat. Slinking in low and graceful like he knew he'd be welcome and Gabe, like a moron, let him close every goddamn time. How many times can you get cut by a man and still not see it coming?

Enough, as it turns out. Too goddamn many. This should have been more of the same. Funny thing was, even the first time they collided wasn't quite that simple. They stayed together in the aftermath, down in the grass. Not for long - not for long at all, on balance - but it was something. There was -

Trust, Gabe thinks, even if it was small and tentative. They could have fucked each other up. Would've been easy. Expected, even. And they didn't.

Funny, that. And here, Daryl just picks him up and sets him down, back on the mattress. Gentle.

Gabe breathes out slow. He aches, but it's a good ache. He reaches a hand back to tap at the ports in his neck, trying to feel for the heat. For that awful, twisting pressure.

Nothing. ]

Yeah.

[ He closes his eyes and just breathes out. After a moment, he shifts to bump his hand against Daryl's arm. Gentle. ]

Think it's stopped. Tell me to do something.

[ A test. Just to make sure. ]

[ He watches Gabe check his ports, curious as always but never prying, watching only because he knows Gabe can't see him doing so. He's always careful not to touch them, was careful not to kiss them this time, and Daryl nods with obvious relief at the news.

Good. That's good. He feels like he managed to actually help someone for once and that cuts off the creeping fingers of guilt he'd felt coming on, suggesting that he'd somehow taken advantage of the situation.

He knows Hell made it happen. More or less. He tries to remind himself not to give the place a double win by feeling guilty about it, too.

When Gabe nudges him, Daryl flops onto his back and reaches out to put his hand on Gabe's hip. Just rests it there. ]

Hmm? Oh.

[ He has to close his eyes and think for a couple of seconds. ]

Sing me a song.

[ Be nice if his tech came back online, but that doesn't seem like it's going to happen. At least he's not going to die of brain damage, so. Yay. Gabe drops his hand with a sigh and just flops on the mattress. He's aching all over and he can feel cum leaking out of him, but he doesn't give enough of a fuck to move just yet.

Besides. It's nice like this. Calm. He hums to himself, considering the request, and his sudden lack of interest in carrying it out. ]

I can't sing. At all.

[ He snorts. ]

Guess you're lucky it's worn off. It's bad.

[ Daryl chuckles at that - just closes his eyes and laughs quietly at the ceiling and it feels something like a release. Like a break in the storm. He sighs, breath finally coming slow and even again. He's starting to feel his own nakedness but he doesn't want to sit up. ]

Good. I ain't really into music.

[ He knows most people don't get it, but even music had been a luxury that Daryl hadn't had around him much in his early life. His first life. In his second life, after he met his family during the end of the world, it had been practically alien. A liability or an annoyance. ]

Ain't really into anythin', I guess.

No?

[ Gabe breathes out slow, coming back to himself. Taking stock of his body, the press of Daryl's hand against his hip. It's nice, he thinks. The ache in the aftermath. How it's settled him. He can feel the bite marks throbbing against his skin and that's nice, too. A little reminder for later. Something he'll carry. Keep for himself. ]

Everybody's got their thing. C'mon, try me.

[ Daryl shrugs, confident that the overexaggerated gesture can be felt through the bed. They're lying close enough that it should read. ]

You promised to show me some comic books, once.

[ He sounds slightly amused by the memory, even if the night of dancing had been something he'd been trying to forget as a whole. ]

[ Gabe hums in agreement. ]

I did.

[ It's said idly. He bumps his hand against Daryl's, tracing his fingers along the edge of the scar along his hip. Jackie left him that one. It healed crooked. Hasn't faded yet. ]

And we can do that. But you don't have anything? Nothing you do when things are quiet?

[ Daryl considers snatching up that hand in his, then decides against it and drags his blunt fingernails over the scar Gabe is favouring instead.

He shrugs again, this time because he's a little self-conscious. He doesn't notice that he does it. ]

Back home, I'd just find somethin' that needed doin'. There was always somethin'.

Edited 2021-09-13 01:52 (UTC)

[ Gabe's breath hitches a little. It doesn't hurt, but he wasn't expecting it.

He breathes out. Doesn't knock Daryl's hand away. ]

I get that. But I'm talking about something just for you. Like I got my comic books and shit.

[ He snorts. ]

Or hooking up with strangers. But that's just me.

[ Daryl doesn't miss much, so he takes his time trailing his thumb over the same spot. Lazily finds another scar slightly higher up on Gabe's belly and traces that, too. ]

Only strangers?

[ There's a thread of humour in the question, despite how reluctant he is to ever put words to anything that could benefit from them. He's just pretty sure they aren't strangers to one another anymore. ]

I got this, I guess. Talkin' to you.

[ And he really does mean it, even as they're still lying there, naked. It's talking to him, coming up against Gabe's strange still confidence when he's shaken (which is all too often these days) that keeps Daryl looking around for him. Relying on him.

It's only fair to give back, but whatever... this is, just seems to keep happening. He can't explain it. ]

Edited 2021-09-15 05:27 (UTC)

[ It's strange, letting another person touch his scars. Most of his hookups brush past them entirely. They tend to have scars of their own, no reason or desire to dwell. And then sometimes it was Jackie, who left a fair amount of those scars himself. They marked each other up. It felt inevitable at the time. Gabe shivers a little, but it isn't bad. It doesn't hurt. It just feels -

Strange. Foreign.

He breathes out and shifts to press closer to Daryl. Just because. ]

Well, that's all right. Means you've got good taste.

[ Daryl doesn't mind it when Gabe shifts. He's getting better and better at just accepting intimacy from those he trusts and it isn't nearly the internal war it would have been even a couple years ago for him to just... lift his arm out the way so Gabe can settle against him. So he can put it around his shoulders.

Easy. ]

Doubt that.

[ Stated with a tired smirk. Daryl likes the company. He's still far from sure that any of it, any of this, is a good idea.

But what the hell does 'good' really matter here? ]

You can stay. For a while. If you want.

[ And just like that, Daryl shifts to let him press closer. So they can share space, body heat. It feels -

Easy. Funny, that.

Gabe closes his eyes. Breathes out. ]

Okay.

[ It comes out soft. ]

I'd like that.

[ Daryl relaxes into the bed and settles against Gabe, rather comfortably, in a way he hadn't been expecting to manage even an hour ago. He's still thinking about Carol and what happened to her, about Rick and everything that's riding on Daryl to figure out a way to get him back home, but he knows the two of them are together for now. Rick is looking out for her, and even though that doesn't mean they're safe - nothing is certain here - it's as close as they can get. He can stop thinking for a while.

So he lets his eyes close. It's easier with Gabe against him, for some reason, just to let go. ]

I'll walk you home later.

[ He lets out one very quiet chuckle as he reaches to grab a handful of sheets to wipe Gabe's tacky cum off his chest with. ]

'Cause I'm a gentleman'n all.

[ Gabe huffs, smiling faintly. Daryl feels warm and solid next to him, and that's just -

Nice. So he settles. And so he accepts it. Doesn't have to be complicated, does it? Maybe one thing can just be easy in the aftermath. One damn thing. ]

You're a sassy motherfucker, you know that?

[ Daryl snorts, eyes still closed, and his fingertips idly find a scar on Gabe's upper arm to trace. He seems to have plenty to choose from. It's just one more thing that helps put Daryl at ease. Somehow, it keeps him from thinking too much about his own. ]

No one's ever called me that before.

[ After a pause, he clarifies sleepily: ]

Sassy, I mean. Been called a motherfucker plenty.

[ It's a light touch, but a careful one. Gabe breathes out slow, shivering a little, and lets Daryl do it. Lets him trace out the scars, count the marks, lets him ghost over all the shit that Gabe's survived over the years. Some of it stuck. Others faded. So it goes.

He presses closer to Daryl. Takes comfort from the warmth, the closeness.

He can. So he does. ]

Mhmm. Me, too. Even though I've never fucked anybody's mother. Seems unfair.

[ It comes out in a soft drawl. He's sleepy, content. And he feels safe enough to let his guard down. A rare thing. ]

[ He feels that shiver, tries to absorb it with his own warmth and when Gabe presses closer, Daryl assumes that it must all be because he's cold. He reaches for the sheet again and throws it over the two of them.

And just like that, Daryl decides it's okay for them to sleep together again. There hadn't exactly been consequences after the last time it had happened. At least, not any that Daryl's aware of.

He's softened with sleepiness edging in, enough to tease back: ]

Someone's dad, prob'ly.

[ He likes Gabe's accent. It reminds him of home, where the kids he's responsible for are waiting. ]

[ That's nice, Gabe thinks absently. He's like a lizard, he does best in the heat. In direct sunlight. He'll happily curl up in direct sunlight and bask like something truly cold-blooded, let the heat thrum through him. He gets cold too easily, especially when he's in space. Dealing with ships and their churning engines, the void out there just beyond the airlock doors. He hums a little and breathes out.

Settles. Daryl's warm and the sheets are nice and soft, and it -

Works. Strangely. ]

Probably. Doesn't quite have the same ring to it, though.

[ Feeling Gabe fully settle against him, on some subconscious level, finally convinces Daryl's body to let go. To just stop. It's been days since he's slept and Gabe has thoroughly worn him out, so even though he knows Gabe has said something, he can't hold on to the words. They glance right off his mind as he slips under and Daryl just grunts softly in response. ]

Mm.

[ He'll be out for a few hours, not-quite-dead to the world. At least he doesn't snore.

He'd have died long ago if he did. ]

𝙿𝙴𝙽𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 ;

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