#daaron fic

In the Prison of His Days

In the Ruins of You

Until Your Heart Stops

Walking With the Sun

Civility

Bubbly

Yeah, so this was supposed to be the next chapter in Secrets. But the tone was way different and it did not land anywhere in the realm of Bethyl lol. So, here's some more Daaron with the delicious potential for some Daaric on the side.

“I know what it’s like, people assume things just because you don’t fit their expectations for how you should look, how you should act,” Aaron said. “I know you have too, and not just because of this. Not just because of what you wear, on the outside or underneath.”

Daryl was still, too still, but for some reason he felt frozen in place. He couldn’t even bring himself to scrape his teeth against the inside of his cheek just to feel something he could understand instead of the swirling, anxious meld of emotions whirling around inside of him.

“I know what it’s like, not wanting people to judge you for parts of yourself that you shouldn’t need to hide,” Aaron continued, slowly, the words digging painfully under Daryl’s skin. “When I saw your face, back there in the woods, you looked embarrassed. Afraid. And I don’t want you thinking I was someone you needed to feel that way around. This doesn’t change anything between us and I won’t tell anyone.”

Daryl crossed one arm over his chest, the other bending to slip his index finger between his teeth, biting down hard on the knuckle. The sharp shot of pain washed through him, grounding him, making it easier to breathe for a moment. When he released his finger, he felt the dull throb of it echoing his own heartbeat. 

“Not even Eric?” he managed to ask.

“If you want Eric to know, then you’ll be the one to tell him,” Aaron said. “He’s my husband and I tell him everything that’s mine to share. This is yours and you should get to make that call.”

Daryl was quiet for a moment, his body going still. The distant groans of the dead passing by outside faded away. His world narrowed down to nothing but the sound of their breathing and the dull throbbing of his finger, the strange, foreign feeling in his chest.

“Don’t mind,” Daryl said, slowly. “If he knows.”

Aaron gave a small nod. “And you get to choose when and how he finds out. You didn’t get that this time, but it should be your choice.”

Daryl’s throat felt tight, almost painfully so. And, after a moment, a shiver wracked through him. For the first time , he was realising just how cold it was inside that old mechanic’s shop. He ran a hand over his arm, feeling the goosebumps that had risen on his flesh. He shivered again and Aaron pushed away from the car, turning. 

“Cold?” he asked, leaning inside the car to rummage through the backseat. “I’m pretty sure I found a… Ah ha!” 

He came back with a large, amorphous bundle of fabric that might have been a jacket or might have been a blanket. Daryl frowned at it, not moving. 

“It’s waterproof,” Aaron said, as if that might make it any more enticing.

Daryl made a face at the brightly coloured patches of pastel yellow, blue, pink, and purple. “It’s loud is what it is.”

Aaron huffed out an amused sound. “You’ll wear leather in the middle of July but you won’t put on a jacket when you’re cold?”

Aaron shook the jacket out before looking over at Daryl, raising his eyebrows. 

“Would you rather borrow my jacket?” he asked. “I don’t have a problem wearing this one while we wait.”

Daryl’s nose wrinkled and he looked away. He felt an inexplicable urge to take him up on that offer. To slip into the jacket Aaron had been wearing for days on end and be warmed by the body heat it had captured, to be surrounded by the scent of sweat that had soaked into the very fabric of it. He wondered if Eric ever did the same, when Aaron came home to him. He wondered if Eric ever slipped Aaron out of those clothes and climbed right into them himself. He wondered if he ever did that while Aaron was gone, on the road with Daryl for days at a time, some small comfort while he waited in the unknown.