brotherofgrimes (from x)
28 —— HIPS jeff had been avoiding daryl all day long. he even went so far as to purposefully walk in the other direction when he saw the other man coming. it wasn’t as though he was mad at him, no. it was just the mere sight of him he couldn’t handle. his arms. that fucking hair. his everything. it had been since before the world had ended that jeff had been with anyone intimately. and he had kept it that way for a reason. being with anyone was a huge risk these days. forming connections seemed idiotic to the former cop. yet when he stepped out into the dark, quiet streets of alexandria, to find daryl there, walking in the night. he couldn’t avoid him now. “wasn’t ignoring ya or anythin’,” he said quickly, eyes flashing to meet his, “i just ——” jeff let out a huff, abandoning inhibitions, walking daryl back into the large metal wall enclosing them in the town, and before a word could be said, he began to unbuckle the older man’s belt, then moving to unzip his jeans, yanking them and his boxers down as he dropped to his knees. Breathing loudly, he leaned forward breath hot against his hip, kissing daryl there as he sucked on his flesh. “don’t tell my brother.”
“Didn’ notice if y’were or not.” He muttered, but the hand on his shoulder pushing him against the metal had him quietening down again, intrigued to see where this would go. HE felt the hands on his belt, doing nothing to stop him as his pants were dropped to his ankles, boxers following swiftly. The cool night air brushed over his thighs and he groaned, leaning back against the metal, trying to keep quiet as he could.
“I don’ tell Rick everythin’.” He muttered, sliding a hand into his hair and giving a whimper (not that he’d ever admit it if questioned) of need, chest rising adn falling, tightening some. He closed his eyes, breathing heavy at the feeling of hot breath on his hip, the tightness in his stomach queerly good. It had been so long since he’d been touched like this, and already he was reacting to it, feeling the rush of blood to between his legs, the tightening of his skin.
“I wouldn’ tell him nothin’ abou’ this.” He whispered, sliding his fingers through his hair and tightening them, groaning again almost under his breath.
