Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead

"You sure you want to keep going?"

Rick nodded, a determined expression on his face as he brought the cross bow up, aiming at the target on a tree twenty paces away from him. He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out with a whoosh! before releasing the arrow from its hold. The arrow sailed through the air, heading for the tree…and landed in the grass, miles from its intended target. Rick groaned, frustrated. He let his arms relax, the crossbow hanging from his side.

"That was better," Daryl remarked from his position behind the ex-cop. Rick huffed out a laugh, disbelieving.

"We've been at this for hours." Rick shook his head. "I'm doing something wrong, I just don't know what."

Rick wasn't sure what made him approach the hunter earlier that day to ask for crossbow lessons. Maybe it was because things had been settling down for the last few months. Maybe it was because, with a steadily decreasing amount of ammo, knowing how to use any kind of weapon that didn't require getting as close to a walker as a bat or machete did was always a plus. Maybe the cop just needed to get away from the confines of the prison for a while. Either way, he'd called Daryl out here to the woods, far enough that any straggling walkers from the jail wouldn't hear them. Now though, he began to feel bad for wasting the hunter's time. He was just considering telling Daryl to forget it, when the hunter spoke.

"You're holdin' it wrong." Daryl moved a little to the left so that he was in Rick's line of vision, bringing his arms up like he was holding an invisible crossbow. "

"Like this." Rick brought the crossbow up again, trying his best to copy the position.

"Is this right?" he asked. He could hear a barely suppressed chuckle come from the hunter.

"Close," Daryl replied.

The hunter went to stand directly behind Rick once again, attempting to readjust his stance. The ex-cop stiffened slightly as he felt a firm chest graze his back, the breath tickling his neck eliciting a small shiver.

"Like this." Daryl murmured into his ear.

His left hand came to rest on Rick's elbow, his right finding purchase on top of the cop's trigger finger.

"Ok." Rick's voice came out huskier than he'd intended it to. He swallowed thickly, ignoring the proximity of the hunter; how he burned where their skin made contact. His instructor his self seemed completely impervious to how the cop was…struggling. As soon as he'd righted Rick's arms, he stepped back.

"Try it now." The hunter said. He walked a few feet away from Rick, making sure to keep out of the way of the crossbow. Rick was able to relax instantly, air rushing into his lungs much easier than it had a moment before. He cleared his throat, tongue snaking out to lick dry lips.

This time when he pulled the trigger, the arrow landed with a satisfying thud into the tree he'd been aiming at for the better part of the morning.

"I did it." Rick turned to Daryl, a broad grin nearly splitting his face in half. Something flashed in the hunter's eyes but he quickly recovered, lips curving upward to form a small smile.

"Yeah. Good job."

A slight rustle in the bushes caused them both to stiffen, hands instinctively reaching for side arms and boot knives. The rustling grew more insistent until, out of the shadow of the trees, emerged a small white bunny. Both men visibly relaxed, now watching with slight amusement as the bunny nibbled at the grass in front of it.

"Now's the chance to see how good you've really gotten," Daryl mentioned, his eyes shifting from the crossbow to the rabbit.

Rick understood instantly. He reloaded the crossbow, just like he was taught, and prepared to take aim. It was an easy enough shot-the rabbit was merely a few feet away- but Rick still paused. If he took this shot and made it then there'd be no need for anymore of these practices, and he'd be lying if he said that he didn't somewhat enjoy being away from everyone else-and the responsibilities that came with them- just for a little while. At least, everyone except…

Rick took the shot, missing the rabbit by a mile. Still close enough to cause the animal alarm however, the furry creature hurriedly hopped back into the hidden confines of the trees. He tried to laugh it off, his hands coming up to scratch his head.

"I guess I need a little more practice," he joked, painting a bashful expression on his face. After a few agonizingly slow seconds, Daryl's lips quirked up into their own answering smile.

It was all the ex-cop could do to not heave out a heavy sigh of relief. He wasn't sure why exactly he'd deliberately missed that shot. He supposed that he was just having fun and wanted a reason to get away from the prison, if only for a couple of hours.

'There's nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with a good friend.' He tried to justify to him self. But somehow even this excuse seemed half hearted.

"We should stop for today." The hunter gave a quick glance to the sky. "Getting late."

Rick nodded in agreement, trying his best to push these confusing thoughts to the back of his mind. Pausing only to grab the pack he'd left sitting against a nearby tree, they walked back to the prison together.

….

"Are you even trying?"

Rick looked over at Daryl, his face a mask of pure innocence and surprise, though on the inside his heart was racing.

"I am. I promise."

The hunter looked a little dubious of this.

"You're not doing as well as you did yesterday" Daryl said bluntly. "Where's your head at?"

"I'm sorry," Rick looked down and reloaded the crossbow so that he wouldn't have to make eye contact with the hunter.

"I guess I just have a lot on my mind."

This was a lie.

Things had been calm for months. The Governor was god knows where, and the people he'd left behind had just about fully integrated their selves into his group. Of course there were walkers looming around, but no more than usual. Truth be told, there was only one nagging thought plaguing his mind.

And it was standing just a few feet away from him.

"I really am trying. Maybe-" It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Maybe you could show me how to do it again."

An expression almost akin to apprehension passed over the hunter's face, but was gone the next instant. Daryl pressed his lips together and Rick thought for sure that he had been made. But the hunter slowly started making his way over to the cop.

"Sure."

Rick listened to the soft crunch of the hunter's boots as he drew nearer, anticipation rising as the sound grew closer. A moment later, the hunter had completely escaped his peripheral vision, though the ex-cop could still sense his presence directly behind him.

He didn't dare turn around.

But when he finally felt those hands touching him, it was all he could do to hide the sigh of relief threatening to bubble out of his lips. He could not, however, control the way that his whole body instantly relaxed under the feel of calloused hands, intoxicated by the warmth emanating from them.

It had been a long time since he'd been this close to someone.

Whatever little part of his brain could still function was furiously trying to get him to come back to his senses. If he didn't pull his act together soon, Daryl would no doubt know that something was wrong. And if he figured out what was going on….Rick didn't think that he could take it if he had to face the look of utter disgust that the hunter would surely give him. This thought alone was just enough to break whatever spell he was under, ideas already forming in his head of how he could avoid the hunter-at least until he had figured out how to deal with these sudden…urges.

Then, Rick noticed something odd.

During that whole time, while he'd been having this internal battle with his self, Daryl hadn't moved an inch. The hunter was holding him like he had yesterday, though this time he wasn't pulling away. As the ex-cop took in the stiff posture of the man behind him, he began to fear that the cat was already out of the bag.

"Daryl?" Rick called out nervously, turning his head towards the hunter.

"Are you…" he trailed off as his face was brought a matter of centimeters from the hunter.

He was close; closer than he'd originally thought. Close enough that he could see the light stubble beginning to sprout along Daryl's jaw; the slight flush that had taken over his face. Rick licked his lips, his mind once again going completely blank. He watched as Daryl's eyes widened slightly, a vulnerable look on his face.

"Rick what are you doing?"

The man in question blinked. He then realized that he'd been unconsciously drifting closer to the hunter. They were so close now that they were practically breathing each other's air. Rick was drunk from it.

"I don't know" he confessed.

Rick was now very conscious of the fact that he was inching closer to the hunter, but Daryl wasn't moving away-which was making it worse. He wished that Daryl would punch him, call him names, do something to make him stop, because he knew he wouldn't on his own. Even now, he could feel his control slipping away from him.

What was he doing?

"I'm sorry." He whispered against slightly chapped lips. "I can't stop."

This was the last thing Rick said before finally giving in completely.

The kiss was soft, more like a brush of lips really, but Rick could care less. He hadn't realized exactly how much he'd wanted to do this, but now that he had he didn't think he'd ever be able to stop. His grip on the crossbow slackened, letting it tumble to the ground. Later he would realize how reckless it was to do something like that in the middle of a forest in a zombie infested world, but for now all rationale was lost to him.

Arms now free, he was able to turn around fully, his hands roaming across the rigid body in front of him. He coaxed his tongue into the hunter's mouth, suppressing a relieved sigh when Daryl finally began to reciprocate the kiss. Rick moaned at the feel of rough hands raking through his hair, tugging just enough to hurt. His feet took on a life of their own, leading them both to a large tree. Rick used it as leverage to press even closer to the hunter, wedging a leg between Daryl's.

Rick still wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, but he did know that once they'd stopped things were going to be different, and he wasn't sure if it'd be for the better. So he kissed harder, a feverish pace being set by the roll of his hips, the biting of a lip. Daryl was positively shaking, the noises coming out of his muffled mouth causing all the blood in Rick's brain to rush down south.

He didn't want it to end.

Unfortunately, the need for air began to dictate his feelings, and he was forced to push away from the hunter. Daryl's face was completely flushed, dark brown eyes tainted by lust. Like Rick, his breath came out in pants.

It was then that the ex-cop noticed the ever darkening sky line. While they were in a relatively secure part of the woods, it still wasn't a good idea to be out at this hour. Though he realized that they would have to talk about what had just happened, he also knew that this was a conversation better held within the safety of the prison.

"We should head back," Rick managed through uneven breaths.

"Yeah," Daryl nodded, his eyes trailing down to the ex-cop's lips. Rick licked them reflexively, slowly removing himself from the warm body in front of him. They packed their things and began the trek back to the prison.

The journey was quiet, which only gave Rick the chance to mull over what he had just done to one of his closest friends. He was worried to say the least. Though he'd be lying if he said that he regretted what had happened, that didn't mean that Daryl felt the same way. True, the hunter had not tried to push him away or-as he had expected- punch him. But that didn't prove anything. Daryl was a loyal friend-it was one of the things that Rick really admired about him- and it was completely possible that the hunter had merely been trying to spare his feelings.

And if that were the case, it brought up a whole other list of concerns. What would happen when they reached the others? Would they be able to go back to how they were before? Even worse, what if Daryl started to avoid hi-

Then he felt it; A small, fleeting brush of skin grazing his hand. Without a word, he grabbed the hand bumping into him with his own, interlacing their fingers together. It was only when the gates of the prison-and the zombies drooling on them- were in full view that he let go.

a.n.: I know. The 'crossbow scenario' has probably been used a million times, but I couldn't help it(it's a good scenario). Plus I love these two and I've been dying to write something about them.