Work Text
Daryl had never been gifted flowers, or had the door of anything, car or otherwise, opened for him until he met Rick. He’d never been called sweet names or kissed with any kind of feelings put into it either. So he shouldn't have been surprised - still, he couldn’t keep in the disbelieving roar that came out of him the second he saw it, "RICK? Rick, what the actual fuck?"
Footsteps rushed in behind him, the door of the garage shutting in a loud, hurried bang. Daryl's eyes were round, shock or disgust he wasn't quite sure.
"Language. What's up?" the man asked, trying to sound laidback even though he was ridiculously out of breath and the smirk on his face told Daryl all he needed to know about his pretend-innocence.
"You know what's up you absolute dork," Daryl threw him the absurd, giant, red heart-shaped keychain tied to the key of his Harley.
Disgust, that was it.
The thing bumped into Rick's chest before plopping down on the floor pitifully. "Your reflexes are shit by the way. But- explain yourself, Friendly,"
Rick had the decency to look a little shy about it. A little - his eyes still gleamed with that stupid lovey-dovey hope of his as he started talking, "I just thought, y'know...since you lose your keys all the time--"
"Judith hides them--"
"Yeah, so I thought I ought to help you with that--"
"And your answer was the ugliest,
cheesiest
, heart thing you could find to attach to it? Whaddya want, the guys to plain stop talking to my gay ass down at the shop or what?" Daryl caught himself rambling before he chuckled, Rick's eyes had twinkled at
"gay ass"
, "Shut up, man."
Rick took a step further into the living-room, circling his husband's waist with his arms, bottom lip jutting out in a silent plea, desperate measures and all that.
"Stop." Daryl tried to push his husband away, the man only octopussed closer and tighter around him.
"Judy helped me choose it, you know..."
"Oh, don't you bring in the low blows, mister, nope."
"Come on, this way when you spend long nights at work you'll have a little something of us, and I got the same one for Carl, too. If you don't keep it he won't either and then your daughter, your angel of a daughter will be so disappointed, won't she?"
Those baby blues were practically flooding with mischief. Those wicked
copping
hands were positively flowing down to the aforementioned backside. Brilliant. Rick squeezed. Just brilliant.
“What was I thinking when I married ya again?"
"That it was the best day of your life?"
"That I couldn't believe how you got me into a tuxedo. Until your mom said--"
"Until my mom said I always got my way."
And that he did, Daryl thought again the next day when he drove to work, their kiss still tingling on his lips and an obnoxiously red heart flying in the wind by his left hand.