He cherishes these long minutes even though they really aren't long enough in the least. His hands are rarely still as they lay there, fingertips trailing over Daryl's back, his shoulders, his arms (don't look at him like that). He's not blind to the procrastination either but selfishly he's happy to let it continue, to keep him essentially lured in with this sort of comfortable stasis. Nothing doing.

When Daryl speaks and lifts up he cocks an eyebrow up at him as he lets his arms slowly slither their way around the older man's neck proper. He can say one thing but he still hasn't really moved and, well. "In a minute," he murmurs, pulling him down for another kiss, lingering there a moment longer. "Just a minute."

Or a few minutes. Look, he doesn't make the rules. Also he's pretty sure that is not at all what Rick is going to be doing. But. After that minute they can get up, sure. Partially because he is, in fact, really hungry now that he thinks about it.