Chapter Text
His first impression of the man was still fresh and intense. The man, who was standing next to the leader of Glenn's group, had a piercing look on his bruised face, cautiously sweeping his sharp gaze over the crowd caged in the box car. His firm muscular body was covered by the velvety leather and ragged jeans, and fought back against the attackers that had thrown a gas grenade in the car, so fiercely like a feral animal that they had to beat and kick him repeatedly to debilitate him before shoving and tying him down. Eugene could tell he heard the man roaring and snarling at them, menacing them despite his unfavorable situation of being tied and gagged. He was a tough son of a bitch, strong and hardy enough to wreck walkers, lead the group, go about the woods alone and hunt some squirrels with his crossbow even though the damage was clear on his features, his right eye black and blue, a few noticeable cuts on his lip and face.
And now, Daryl Dixon, the kick-ass archer, was the one whining and begging, writhing beneath the lean body like a little bitch. It was his leader, Rick Grimes, that was pressing the hunter against the rough surface of the wall of the bungalow that their group had taken shelter in for the night, pinning his body from behind with relentless force, thrusting in and out of him greedily, almost savagely.
Eugene couldn't tear his intent gaze away from the inconceivable sight. Daryl's contorted face on the wall, the tears gathering in the corner of his shut eyes, and Rick's look that could be called dominant and protective at the same time. It was shocking. And absolutely irresistible. Keeping within the shadows the bungalow afforded, Eugene swallowed hard with his eyes glued to the two as he felt the quickened beat of his heart at the noise that the hunter let out. It was strangled but sounded honeyed and seductive and he could barely imagine it was the voice that rough, severe redneck who had barked at the residents at Terminus let loose. Immediately Rick shushed him, whispering something into the hunter's ear, letting his hand crawl under the shirt and fondle the skin tenderly, contrary to his brutality that had been shown just a few moments ago. It completely stunned Eugene how vulnerable and fragile the hunter looked, how dramatically the leader changed from a ferocious animal to an affectionate man. Everything was thoroughly different from sex between Abraham and Rosita. And this one really shouldn't have been as hot and mesmerizing as it was, Eugene mused.
It was certain that Abraham wouldn't allow him to peep in their sexual moments anymore, not after disclosing that he had been just a cowardly liar, so he needed to find this. And he wondered if the others knew what the two men were doing behind them in shadows. Do they know their dependable leader is fucking their robust hunter like fucking a whore in an alley?
There were a muffled groan and harsh breathing and Eugene could see the leader pressing the hunter's body against the wall tighter than ever, almost crushing him, burying his face into his damp hair, keeping their bodies still with one arm coiling around the other's waist, another resting on the wall as if to hide Daryl's blushing face from Eugene's view. They had orgasms, his brain reckoned matter-of-factly, despite his racing heart and undeniable thirst in his throat. Hearing a light laughter, he couldn't help but feel surprised when he realized it was emitted from Daryl who let others see only sneer or snigger on his usually masked face. The mingled bodies of the two men sagged against the wall slightly as the leader left bites everywhere on the skin of his neck and shoulders to mark him as his.
Eugene knew it was the time to leave, withdraw and pretend nothing happened or he would be caught.Though his entire body resisted moving anytime soon, he managed to lift his foot and take a step back from the place before getting spotted by anyone. The image of the two men tangling up in the darkness and the noises that had filled the scene remained in his intelligent brain so indelibly he knew he wouldn't get enough sleep tonight.
But he didn't expect the next day would bring more excitation to him. When he joined the others in the living room to eat what looked like stewed meat of squirrel that had been just hunted this morning, the hunter came in with his crossbow in his hand. He was covered by dirt and sweat, looking a bit weary from the early morning hunt, the dark stray hair plastered to his cheeks. Eugene peeked at his movement, every inch of the muscles in his bare arms that were highly prominent as the samurai lady handed him a bowl with a grin on her face. "You look like a dog that just walked through a downpour to get home."
Snorting at that, Daryl picked up a piece of meat from the bowl with his fingers and tossed it into his mouth. Eugene's eyes were automatically attracted by the slickness of those fingers and his tongue flickering over them temptingly, in a way that made him imagine how he would use it to please his man. Like a slut knowing what to do for men. It took away Eugene's ability to think and all he could do at that moment was stare at the hunter so intensely Daryl turned his gaze to him with a cautious look on his face. His keen eyes caught Eugene watching him before giving him a time to look away.
"What?" His voice sounded intimidating, defensive, full of warning like a cat hissing at a stranger with its hackles up. His stern eyes boring into Eugene negated the vulnerability that he had witnessed last night, which made him want to denounce. You are fucking your leader. You are the one who is fucked. You were sobbing like a virgin.
He swallowed every single word instead, shaking his head frantically with a whispery 'nothing' in a hardly perceptible voice. Even after retreating at the corner of the room with his meal he could feel the hunter's steely gaze locked on him until the leader came to join with the baby in his arms. It drew Daryl's attention quickly and they closed the distance without hesitance or preliminary as if their instincts told them to, talking in a quiet tone with intimate proximity. There were touches between them; Daryl's hand lingering on the other's arm longer than it should, Rick's fingers squeezing the firm shoulder of the hunter's reassuringly and possessively in a way that reminded Eugene of the image of them having sex. This was torture. And painfully intoxicating, Eugene admitted.
He listened to Rick announce that they would stay here for one more day because the enough game to supply them with food was expected according to Daryl's judgement. No one disputed his decision. The grey haired woman who had gotten hit by a car couldn't walk for many hours, the brunette girl deeply grieved for the death of her sister, and Abraham lost his destination and objective. No one knew where to go, what to do.
For the rest of the day some went to scan the neighborhood to look for what they could use, some barricaded the doors and windows and set snares , and ended up chowing down on some grilled rabbit meat and canned soups for dinner. During the whole time Eugene tried his best to avoid Abraham, darting his gaze to anywhere but him, finally catching what seemed to be the most troublesome or pleasurable thing right now. Rick was holding his daughter and sitting on the couch with his son as he pressed his side against Daryl's hip who took a seat on the armrest. It was hard not to notice how less the distance between their bodies was and how frequently their hands brush against anywhere on their exposed skins. The way of Rick's hand resting on the hunter's thigh was definitely innocent but completely eloquent.
The kids beside the two didn't seem to care or at least the boy seemed to let his attention focus on the granola bar in his hands. The father rocked his baby girl gently as she gurgled, which drew Daryl's eyes to her and even a slight smile from his usually stoic face. Probably Eugene was too surprised at the sight to keep his gaze from lingering on his face and that was when he realized Rick was staring straight at him, quite openly and firmly, like a sheriff investigating a homicide. He had been watching him watch the hunter. His hunter. There was no threat or warning in his blue eyes, but something intense lurking in them made a chill run down Eugene's spine. He looked away quickly, leaving the room to pretend he was going to take a piss. What he was so sure was those eyes were still chasing his back persistently.