He finds her in her bedroom, rearranging something on the dresser. Daryl narrows his eyes at the back of her head, clicks the door close, and she feels his presence then. Andrea frowns as she turns around to acknowledge him.
"You're back early."
"Caught a buck," Daryl says, approaching her. "Big one, too. Biggest one I ever shot."
She smiles. "That's nice."
When she turns around to begin rearranging all the trinkets (that the previous owners left behind) on the dresser again he reaches her. He grabs her shoulders and turns her back to face him, his hands drifting down her arms to hold her hands. She looks at him, confused, but the confusion dissolves when he grasps one of her hands and presses the other to his hardened groin.
Andrea bites her bottom lip and tilts her head to the side, giving him an incredulous look. "Really?"
Daryl smirks sheepishly. "It was a big buck."
She snorts and shakes her head, but when he moves his hand away, hers stays. He pulls her closer, digging under the back of her jeans and her underwear to squeeze her ass. She squeezes him back.
"I walk around naked and you barely look up, but shooting a buck gives you a boner?"
"It's massive. Enough to last us a while. I did good." It's one of those rare moments when he feels good about himself, capable, important. He's bouncy and all over the walls. And he needs her.
"How big can it be for you to get like this?"
He presses his face to the side of her neck and groans when she runs her hand up and down his length. He takes a deep breath and blows hot air into her skin.
"Rick was impressed," he retorts.
"Oh, really," she breathes into his shoulder. "Maybe Rick can give you a blow job, then."
He drags his mouth along the nape of her neck. "He'd be gentler, that's for sure."
Andrea pulls back and presses her hands to his chest before she shoves him back hard, and he lands on the bed with a yelp, a devilish look on his face.
"See?" Daryl smirks. "He'd carry me to bed."
She smiles as she crawls on top of him, and he tangles a hand in her hair and pulls her down to his mouth. His other hand sneaks under her shirt and he runs it up the bony bumps of her spinal chord until he finds the clasp of her bra and undoes it. When he grips her breast she moans into his mouth and bites his lower lip down gently.
Andrea disentangles herself from him and sits back, lifting her shirt over her arms and tossing it aside. The bra follows. Daryl's eyes and hands are on her breasts immediately, and when she bends down to kiss him again he flips her over and looms on top of her, his mouth on her neck. He licks at the side of it, all the way down to her chest and when his teeth apply a gentle pleasure to her hardened nipple, she whimpers. Her legs are already wrapped around his waist and he grinds down, pressing himself to her and they both moan.
As his mouth lingers on her breast his hand sneaks down, popping open the button of her jeans and digging into her underwear. She's only just a little wet, but his fingers dip into her so he can drag the moisture further up, and she moans louder when slick fingers circle around her clit. She grinds up for him, moaning once again, but he captures the sound with a kiss and swallows it, picking up the pace until she stills in his arms and then her body shivers.
He gets rid of her pants and returns to her to taste her mouth one more time. As he does so her hand strokes him through his pants and Daryl moans. She takes that moment of weakness to take over.
They start to play their usual game of who's gonna end up on top and she pins him on his back again. Andrea sits back and Daryl watches her, eyes dark and lustful, as she scoots down the bed and unties one of his laces, pulling his shoe off and letting it fall on the floor. His sock follows. She does the same with his other foot.
Daryl watches expectantly, hoping she'll go for his pants next, but instead she snakes around his side and as they kiss deeply once more her fingers start to fumble with the buttons of his shirt. It's gone quickly, and she straddles his hips right away. But as she looks down at his bare chest, she frowns and sighs.
"Didn't you just shower?" Her index finger points at a brown spot on his chest. "How the hell did you manage to get dirty on your way here from the bathroom? It's the next room over."
Daryl shrugs his shoulders, his hands running up and down her thighs. "Must've been on my shirt."
Andrea shakes her head, pressing her tongue under his jaw. "No, dirt just follows you everywhere. I'm gonna start calling you Pig Pen."
He grabs her head, presses her to his skin harder, and bucks up against her. "'Kay, Lucy, don't be so crabby."
"I'm not crabby."
He jerks up against her again and she groans.
"Yeah ya are. Always whining. Whinedrea."
"Haha," she says dryly. "I can give you a nickname, too. Dirtyl."
He licks her throat. "Mine's better."
Her hips sink down lower upon his and they both moan. Andrea moves away from him once more and her fingers begin to unbuckle his belt. She looks at him as she undoes the button of his pants and pulls his zipper down and presses her nose to his groin. Daryl curses and she pulls his pants down, underwear with it, and the garments join the rest of their clothing on the floor.
When she comes back to him, her face lingers by his hips. She presses a kiss under his navel and he groans; his abdominal muscles tremble. She's teasing, and Daryl almost curses out loud. She seems to find immense satisfaction in teasing him, always doing shit like this. She can't just ever get to it. Always wants him to beg.
And he's so drunk on her and so pathetic that he always does. He calls out her name, and she finally presses her lips to him. He jumps and jerks up, but when her hand fists itself around the base of his cock he takes a deep breath and tries to keep it together. She doesn't always do this for him, but when she does he makes sure he enjoys it.
He also makes sure it lasts.
Her tongue is rough and warm against him. She takes him into her mouth and licks along his length, her lips suckling out loud when she reaches the top. Daryl shuts his eyes close and fights the urge to grab at her hair and guide her - because he learned the hard way she doesn't like that. She can sink down on him and take him into her mouth, suck him dry, and that's fine. But the minute he puts a hand to her head she finds that offensive. Whatever. He grips the sheets instead, but it's not enough. He's close, but he doesn't want this to end so quickly.
So his fingers curl themselves around her arms, pulling her up and into his mouth. She grinds herself down on him, and he grabs her hips to keep her steady. They kiss for a while, letting the blood rushing to their low slow down, before she squeezes his hips with her inner thighs and presses herself down to him. Daryl's hand grabs one of her butt cheeks, the other tangled in her hair. He wants to, needs to be inside of her right now, but he also needs to breathe for a moment. He needs to get his shit together because he needs this time to be a time.
She seems to feel it, too, and grows limp in his embrace. She presses her nose to his chest, inhaling him, kissing him. When he feels in control again he grabs her butt cheeks and pulls her down.
Andrea gets a hold of him and when she sinks herself down on him, Daryl groans. She rests her forehead to his chest, trying to keep herself together just as much as he is, but his hips soon jerk up and she moans.
Her hips begin to move. His, too. He fills her all the way to the end and every time he reaches the end of her, she cries out a moan of pleasure. Daryl holds her close, kissing her when he can catch his breath, gropes her chest when he remembers it's there, but mostly presses his forehead to her neck to keep himself together. Sometimes the intensity grips at him, but he holds himself back, often making her slow down so he can get his shit together.
But the sight of her on top of him is just too much. The sun seems to be sinking into the horizon, and it makes her skin flick into his eyes in specks of orange and yellow. Her blonde hair gets loosened from her half pony tail in the roughness, and something comes over him.
He wraps an arm around her waist and pushes up, holding her as he flips their bodies around so that he's on top of her. Once there he stops, pushing into her one last time before he stills and presses his lips to the prominent marrow of her collarbone.
"What?" Andrea half moans, half pants. "What's wrong?"
He's breathing hard, and really not thinking. "Nothing," he gasps.
"Did I do something-"
Before she says the word 'wrong' he bites her lower lip, bruising it, and he knows he's going to leave a mark there but he doesn't care. She moans out and he thinks it might be in pain, but then her hands grip at him and he knows he's not really hurting her.
"Ya think we should..." The minute the words leave his mouth he regrets them. "Never mind."
Andrea looks at him, still breathing hard. "No, what?"
Ah, fuck. This shit always happens when he's with her. Always lets his guard down. He doesn't know why. He tries much harder to be on his toes around her but fails miserably every time.
Fuck it. It's already halfway out there. Even if he hadn't said anything. It's been there for a while now.
He groans into her skin. "Make this official or something?"
She frowns at the ceiling and grabs at the side of his face, forcing him to look up. "What?"
But he can't really look her in the eyes. He feels like a fucking girl. "Us. This."
She squeezes him with her internal muscles and he groans. "What do you mean?"
Shit. He needs to move again before he comes undone. So he shakes his head and his hips start moving. "Forget it."
She stops him and smiles knowingly, teasing.
"Are you asking me to go steady, Dixon?"
"Call it what ya want," he groans. "Just..." he doesn't know what he's saying, really. All the blood is rushing down to his groin and not enough of it reaches his brain. It makes his head cloudy. He feels completely drunk. "Don't go fucking anyone else, okay?"
As the words leave his mouth he bites her chest, almost as if he's branding her, marking his territory. She combs her fingers through his hair, holding him in place.
"I think you've got me confused with someone else."
"Daryl, shut up, please," she whimpers and he pulls his hips back and thrusts hard into her. She cries out loudly and he finds so much satisfaction in the sound that he thrusts harder still, until there is no more thinking, no more Daryl and no more Andrea, just an overwhelming focus on each other's pleasure. He pumps in and out of her hard and she scratches his back, leaving new marks behind as the old ones fade. It doesn't last long, they're both too caught off by this new change, but he makes her come and that's all that matters. He lets go the moment he can and collapses on top of her, his open mouth gasping and pressed against her neck.
The moment she catches her breath she pushes him up and away from her, and Daryl merely rolls on his side but keeps her close. They lay next to each other, tired and sleepy, legs tangled in a mess.
She turns her head towards him and her cheek meets his shoulder.
A patch of skin next to his nipple suddenly begins to ache. He frowns as he looks down and finds a red spot. "Why you always gotta bite me? Damn."
She chuckles and presses her teeth to his skin slightly. He jumps back. "Don't think you're getting serviced every time you bring home a large animal."
Daryl smiles at the ceiling, sneaking a hand between the grip of her thighs and keeping it there, immobile. "We'll see."
"Next time you get excited about something weird, use your hand."
"Is not weird," he says defensively and looks at her. She's got one eyebrow bent at him. "What? What turns you on?"
Andrea takes a deep breath as she considers the question. She smiles. "I don't know, but I gotta say, the thought of you with Rick makes me kinda hot."
Daryl snorts, eyes back to the ceiling. "And I'm weird."
"Admit it. If you had to pick a guy from the group I know you'd pick him."
Daryl shrugs his shoulders. "He'd be the most gentle on my virgin ass. And he'd probably hold me afterward and cuddle me and shit."
Andrea laughs loudly. She presses her forehead to his shoulder and giggles jovially. He looks down at her, smiling, something... burning off in the distance. Or maybe not so distant. Maybe much closer now than ever before, but he's been too stubborn to acknowledge it.
But he feels braver now. Because when he hears a voice in his head, it's no longer Merle's. Sometimes it's Rick's. Sometimes it's Dale's. Often it's hers.
His old self screams 'no, no, no, no!' in his head but his old self is so far gone now he can't hear it. His hand pats her thigh. "So?"
She composes herself and sighs, props herself up on one elbow to look at him better. "Are you really serious?"
"Wouldn't have said it if I wasn't," he says.
"I know, but..." she hesitates. "I... I never thought... I mean, It's not like... we're keeping it a secret or anything."
He shrugs his shoulders, dismissing the chatty nonsense.
"And I'm not about to run off with someone else, if that's what you're worried about."
"Nah," he says and grows pensive. He still gets insecure sometimes, especially when he sees her with other men. But he's learned to control himself. Fine, he's learned she doesn't take too kindly to his outbursts of jealousy. He's also learned she pinches really hard.
"We could move to the same room," he suggests. It sounds ridiculous when he says the words out loud but it's the next logical step that they can take that won't freak him out. "Hell, I never sleep there anyway. Baby's probably gonna need it."
She smiles at his words, but can't help thinking they sound strained and strange. Especially coming from him. For the few months after they came together for the first time, he avoided her like the plague. He'd come to her in moments of physical need, but then would be gone before the moon even started to dip into the horizon.
He doesn't do that anymore. Now he stays. Often he stays well past his scheduled internal alarm clock, always cursing as he quickly jumps into his pants, gets his crossbow, and goes out for a late hunt, leaving her naked and sleepy in bed.
He's not really looking at her, either. That's how she knows he's serious.
Andrea smiles tenderly at his hesitation. "Why this, all of a sudden?"
Finally he turns to her. "Sudden?"
She looks at him and knows he's right. This isn't sudden. It's not something new. They've been coming to each other for a long while, months, maybe even past a year. They make a game of it, tease each other, have amazing sex and then push away the emotional aspect of it. She's just as guilty of this as he is. After all, she's lost everyone she's ever cared about, too. She knows how dangerous it is to get emotionally attached in this new world.
But he's not Amy or Merle. He's not Glenn, Rick or Maggie or Hershel. He's Daryl.
"Kinda," she says, because it's the truth. It's not sudden, but it's not well established, either. It's something new that's not really new at all. It's new in the sense that they're acknowledging it, that they're making it real by talking about it. But not new in its existence.
He shrugs his shoulders again, looking away. Andrea watches him. Daryl tends to say more when he doesn't say anything at all, and she smiles at the bits and pieces she reads off his expression. It's not much, because she's still knowing him and still learning how to read him. Daryl's a complicated language. But she's fluent enough.
She pushes his foot with hers. "So?"
Daryl rolls his eyes. "So?"
He protests with a grunt, like a child throwing a tantrum in hopes he can get away with not doing his chores. He knows what she's asking of him and he understands. In this new world, you can't just take things for granted. In this new world, it's all or nothing. And he knows she's giving him a chance. A chance to pull away. To choose nothing over all.
But he wants the all. For the first time in his life he just wants to have something that matters. That only belongs to him and that he doesn't have to share with anyone else. He looks at her and thinks, 'mine.'
He scrunches his nose and relents. It's just easier if he gets pushed because he's not strong enough to push himself.
"Ya really gonna make me say it?"
Andrea smiles warmly at him, her thumb scratching down his jaw. "Yeah, I am. You never have to say it ever again, but just this once."
He looks down and sighs, making it seem like a hardship. And she knows it's a hardship. For him, anyway. The words come out quickly, as if he's trying to rip off a band aid. Just get it done. One motion - right off.
"Alright. I love ya, alright?"
Andrea can't help grinning, because she's never thought she would hear him say the words, but the few times she thought he might say them, it sounded exactly like that. Cranky, crabby, stubborn, crotchety, but still somehow sweet.
He finally looks at her. "You gonna say it back, or what?"
She grins playfully and shrugs her shoulder. "No."
She starts to get out of bed, but he wraps an arm around her waist and drags her back down. "Come 'ere."
Andrea laughs when she falls in bed and he hovers above her. It's a little different this kiss, and probably the ones that will come after. It's slower and means more. She frames his face with her hands and strokes his cheek with her thumb, and when he pulls back she looks at him. "I'm not moving into your room, you're moving into mine."
Daryl rolls his eyes and nuzzles his nose into her neck. "Fine."
"And you have to be quiet when you leave in the mornings, cause I can't sleep when you make too much noise."
He pulls back to look at her. "Anything else, your majesty?"
"Yeah." She smiles and presses a quick peck to his lips, murmuring uncharacteristically shyly. It's hard even for her. It carries so much weight and means so much. And it will seal them together forever or God knows how long. She didn't think it would be so hard to say it. Not for her.
But he teases her with a grin and she chuckles. "I love you, too."
This is for the "first time Daryl says I love you" prompt at the Daryl/Andrea collective. I forgot who asked for it, and sorry it's totally out of character, but I hope you like it all the same.