The lack of reaction makes Daryl wonder if he's made a mistake. And then he thinks What the fuck reaction was I hoping for, realizing that he had nothing at all in mind and hadn't considered a reaction one way or the other; Paul always takes his cues from Daryl, anyway, and Daryl didn't react. So. Uh. Maybe Daryl could react. Or he could just die in this chair. Dying in this chair sounds like a solid option in his head, because he's more turned on than he knows what to do with (he thinks?? we did mention the rust thing, right, it's not like he's even jerked off since well before the end of the world, while we're in TMI territory), also he's already dying of embarrassment so might as well finish the job and just spontaneously cease to exist. It'll be easier for everyone.
You sleep in the same bed and made out for hours earlier some part of his brain screams. But he remains frozen long into the 'definitely super awkward' stretch of time. Until he isn't.
Daryl reaches forward again. He curls the fingers of one hand around Paul's wrist, though this time he doesn't pull him forward. He looks at him, though, stormy blue eyes peering at him-- parts shy and nervous, but well-aware of what he's doing, too.
no subject
(Fuck.)
The lack of reaction makes Daryl wonder if he's made a mistake. And then he thinks What the fuck reaction was I hoping for, realizing that he had nothing at all in mind and hadn't considered a reaction one way or the other; Paul always takes his cues from Daryl, anyway, and Daryl didn't react. So. Uh. Maybe Daryl could react. Or he could just die in this chair. Dying in this chair sounds like a solid option in his head, because he's more turned on than he knows what to do with (he thinks?? we did mention the rust thing, right, it's not like he's even jerked off since well before the end of the world, while we're in TMI territory), also he's already dying of embarrassment so might as well finish the job and just spontaneously cease to exist. It'll be easier for everyone.
You sleep in the same bed and made out for hours earlier some part of his brain screams. But he remains frozen long into the 'definitely super awkward' stretch of time. Until he isn't.
Daryl reaches forward again. He curls the fingers of one hand around Paul's wrist, though this time he doesn't pull him forward. He looks at him, though, stormy blue eyes peering at him-- parts shy and nervous, but well-aware of what he's doing, too.