I can't fit in this skin
It's worn and useless thin
The size of the eyes and the flies in the sky
Make it hard to see, to the end

My Body's a Zombie for You - Dead Man's Bones

He could smell the smoke a mile off, or near as. Big fire, too. Either these idiots didn't know enough to keep the flames small or they were running more than one fire at the same time. Better check them out, they were too close to Alexandria to take any chances.

Daryl approached noiselessly. He was on his own today, Aaron and Eric had some kind of anniversary to celebrate. He didn't mind, less company meant less talking, and he was in need of some quiet. There were entirely too many people chattering away at him in the day-to-day now.

Thirty yards away from whoever they were he could hear voices. Daryl stopped, listened. Half a dozen men, by his estimate. Definitely male voices only. That might mean trouble, but he'd reserve judgement until he'd learned more. Daryl would find out soon enough whether these were good people or bad. Odds were on bad, but you never knew.

Twenty yards, and he could see the camp. Couple of small fires, they must've trimmed them down since Daryl had first smelled them. He hunkered down now, rested on his haunches. Watched, listened. The talk was quiet, these guys were not on high alert. By the looks of them they were tough guys. A couple were wearing biker vests over their jackets, not unlike his own.

Daryl crept round the outskirts of the camp until he came to the road. Six bikes, neatly parked close to the edge of the forest. One guy standing by them, looking down the road. This one caught Daryl's eye. Six foot, maybe slightly over, blond hair long and tangled. Alert and watchful, but not tense. He was just throwing his jacket over one of the bikes. The day was promising to get hot even though it was still early. Cut-off shirtsleeves like Daryl. Muscular arms, maybe fifteen years younger than him.

Daryl stayed low, watched the man. When he went back to the others Daryl followed. He stayed close for a couple of hours, listened in on the talk around the fires. From what he could overhear these men were not planning anything that would endanger his people. They'd clearly been out on the road a long time; all looked tired. Daryl gathered that they were nearly out of gas, and were contemplating their next move.

Daryl didn't want to bring in any new people without Aaron's assent. It was not his place to make this decision, not yet. But he was loath to lose these guys again. They looked strong, and goodness knew they could do with some additional muscle. But Daryl had a hunch that these guys might not have been entirely on the right side of the law before the world turned to shit, and who knew what they'd do when they realized how close they were to rich pickings like Alexandria.

He considered his options. There was one course of action that struck Daryl as most practical, though maybe not too appealing. He straightened up. Only one way to find out.

Walking towards the men's camp Daryl made more noise than he'd made since the day he'd had his first stalking lesson from Merle. The blond man saw him first. He lifted his shotgun and trained it straight at Daryl's head.

"Stop right there."

Daryl stood still. The man motioned at the crossbow.

"Put that down, hands up."

Daryl obliged. He regarded the other man calmly from under the hair he usually didn't bother keeping off his face these days. The man motioned to one of the others who came closer and picked the crossbow up. The blond man's eyes never left Daryl, and Daryl returned the gaze with as much civility as he could muster.

"Name?"

"Daryl Dixon. You?"

"Jax Teller. What do you want?"

"Saw your camp from the street. Thought I'd check you out."

The man still looked suspicious, and Daryl stood very still, hands lifted.

"You alone?"

Daryl hesitated. He knew from Aaron that it was best not to lie, but this wasn't strictly a lie; he was alone today. He nodded.

"Search him."

Two more men started to move at Jax's command and came over to pat Daryl down. He had to suppress his usual instinct to shy away from the touch. This was an unfamiliar situation, but Daryl needed these men to trust him.

"Where you headed?"

Daryl looked at Jax. Close to he could see how similar these men looked to his own group when they'd been out here on the road. Jax still looked alert, but Daryl could see the exhaustion of many weeks of traveling on the other man's face.

Daryl tried to keep his voice quite expressionless. "Nowhere, really. Jus' going where the game's good."

Jax pointed at the crossbow now lying close by his own feet. "You hunt?"

Daryl nodded. Jax was relaxing slowly, and now he lowered his weapon. He came a few steps closer, keeping his eyes on Daryl but not looking as suspicious as before.

"We're a bit aimless ourselves," he admitted in a low voice. "D'you know if there's a town nearby, or at least a service station? The bikes are running low, only two have any gas left."

Usually, Daryl wasn't the type to lead people along to get what he wanted, but he had just had an idea. "I saw one, couple days ago." This was now an outright lie, but he'd decided to go with his gut feeling. "'s a good 20 miles though. How much gas you got left?"

Jax appraised him. Daryl had the strange feeling that he could guess some of the thoughts going through the other man's head. "Could just about make it there. You positive we could fill up, though?"

The truth was, Daryl knew exactly how much gas was in the silos of the station he had in mind, and the answer was a clear yes. He'd have to use another fabrication, though, if he wanted to get Jax to agree to his plan. "Pretty sure, yeah. Went into the shop, and the pump indicators all looked good."

Whether from an intuition that told him that he could trust Daryl, from desperation, inexperience or that half-acknowledged vibe that Daryl had picked up and that reverberated in his own mind now, Jax had obviously arrived at a decision.

"Show me where it is."

-.-

Daryl was rather surprised with himself and replayed his approach to the situation in his head as he was riding pillion behind Jax on the other's motorbike. He questioned his own motives, if nothing else. Was he interested in bringing these men into the safe zone for the added safety, or for his own plans, still unformed and vague?

Whatever it was, he decided he'd just go with it for now. Sitting behind this stranger, giving in to a whim, felt strangely good. Liberating even. He had an idea that spending time with Jax would not involve endless hours of chit chat, either.

It took them about half an hour to reach the gas station. When they approached Daryl could see it was still deserted, just like they'd left it when they'd last filled up their cars here a week ago.

They stopped about fifty yards away. The other man looked over his shoulder at Daryl as they both put their feet on the ground.

"I'll push the bike from here. Let's see what's what."

Daryl nodded and swung his leg over the back of the bike. He took his crossbow off his shoulder and slotted a bolt into place.

They approached slowly, but nothing stirred. Jax parked the bike near the pumps and drew his gun.

"I'll take the shop," Daryl whispered. "Garage's there." He pointed and Jax gave a nod.

There were no threats lurking. Daryl checked the perimeter, but nothing was stirring anywhere. After five minutes they reconvened out front. Jax holstered his gun. "Shall we get the gas then? Or d'you first want to tell me who you really are?" His voice wasn't angry, he merely looked curious.

Daryl looked at the man. He wasn't really surprised that he'd sussed him out. Daryl thought he'd recognized some of the same skill of reading people in Jax as he'd recently discovered in himself. He'd hardly be the leader of their kind of group if he didn't have that.

"Didn't mean t'lie, back there," he said, half an apology, half a preamble to the explanation he'd have to give. "Jus' cautious, y'know?"

Jax waved the explanation away. "Understood. I get that, being cautious. And I knew you're not setting us a trap. That's why I agreed to come here with you so quickly. Call it curiosity, if you like." Jax smiled, and something fluttered in the back of Daryl's mind as he looked into the sky-blue eyes.

"I guess you have a camp nearby?"

So Daryl told him about Alexandria, their set-up, about his own group. "Can't make the decision about whether y'can stay or not, if you decide t'come along. But Rick'd be keen t'have you. Under certain conditions..."

Jax had taken it all in as Daryl spoke. He looked thoughtful, but nodded. "I'll have to discuss it with the others, obviously. But my gut feeling says it'd be a good fit."

He'd moved closer during Daryl's lengthy explanation, and now Daryl was surprised just how close he was. Interestingly it didn't bother him. When Jax spoke again his eyes were boring into Daryl who found it impossible to look away.

"I get all that, the scouting, bringing people in. Also why you approached us. But," and now he took another step that brought him close enough to touch, if Daryl chose to, "I believe there's another reason we're out here, am I right?"

Daryl didn't reply. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he felt his breath catch in his throat, but it wasn't fear. It was the proximity of this young stranger, who was still advancing, staring at Daryl.

He gave a tiny nod of the head. And suddenly Jax was kissing him, with a ferocity that seemed to surprise them both.

Daryl let it happen for a moment, then, as if a switch was thrown in his head he returned the passion. The other man tasted of cigarettes, and Daryl could smell motor oil under the grime and sweat that was an inevitable consequence of living on the road.

There were hands busy on the waistband of his pants, sliding up his stomach none too gently, unbuttoning his fly and shirt seemingly simultaneously. He let his own hands come to rest on Jax in the small of his back and on his buttocks, pulling him close. Jax abandoned Daryl's fly for the moment and crowded in, pressing his erection hard against Daryl, who could feel his own cock respond immediately.

Jax had his hands on Daryl's hips, pulling him closer and closer, grinding into him and pressing into him until Daryl was sure he'd explode right there in his pants.

The blond man started pushing Daryl over to where the motorcycle was parked. Daryl soon felt it press against the back of his legs. He leaned on the seat, supporting himself and Jax's weight half on the bike, half with his feet planted wide on the ground. The man's hands were busy with Daryl's fly again, at the same time kissing him hard enough to make their teeth click together.

Daryl moaned against Jax as fingers kept brushing his erection, first through fabric, until finally, finally there was skin on skin. For a moment Jax held Daryl's cock, still inside his pants, giving it a few firm strokes.

Then Jax stepped back, pulling Daryl with him. He turned him round by the shoulders. Daryl felt his pants slide down and stepped out of them just as Jax placed his hand against his ass, exploring, probing with fingers wet with spit. Daryl groaned. He leaned forward, bracing himself against the seat of the bike.

There was the sound of a zipper from behind him, the clank of a belt buckle hitting tarmac. Then the hands were back on his hips, firm, insistent. Daryl could feel a finger sliding back between his buttocks and rest on his opening. This time Jax entered him, slow at first but as Daryl bucked his hips backwards with desire he pushed in quickly all the way. Daryl could feel the tip of the man's finger brush his prostate and his breath hitched in his throat.

Daryl grasped his own erection and as though that had been the sign Jax had been waiting for he moved himself into position. The finger vanished but was immediately replaced with the sensation of Jax's cock pushing against Daryl's entrance. Daryl dug his hands into the seat of the motorcycle as Jax started to push in.

This was not gentle lovemaking. It was quick and hungry and full of need. Jax gave Daryl barely enough time to get used to the sensation of having him inside before he started to move in an increasingly fast rhythm. He didn't check that Daryl was ok, or wait for any discomfort to pass. Daryl bit his lip hard and tasted blood. The sensation of Jax sliding in and out was both painful and the most delicious thing Daryl could ever remember during fucking.

Once the ecstasy outweighed the discomfort Daryl took hold of himself again and adjusted his rhythm to Jax's. He was getting close, but Jax was not yet done with him. He stopped suddenly, grasped Daryl by the arm and pulled him back. He slipped his arms around Daryl's chest and held him close. In another situation this might have been a gentle gesture, but here and now it was rough and hard, and Jax added to it by sucking and biting on Daryl's neck until Daryl moaned with the sensation, which was bordering on painful. He never wanted it to stop.

Jax pushed him back onto the bike when he'd had his fill of biting him, then grasped Daryl's hips and pushed in hard. Daryl could hear the other man's breathing speed up, harsh and fast. He knew it would be only seconds for Jax to climax. He was close himself, and braced himself when Jax started pulling out further and further, slamming home harder and harder. One hard push, the tip of Jax's cock slamming into his prostate, and Daryl gave a groan of ecstasy as the sensation tipped him over into orgasm.

He could hear Jax groan behind him then, knew that his tightening around the other man's cock had brought him to the edge as well. Jax pulled out once more, and slammed in almost painfully, his pelvis connecting hard with Daryl's ass. Then movement ceased as Jax half collapsed onto Daryl, burying his head against Daryl's back, hips bucking, breath coming in gasps.

Daryl savored the sensation of the taller man on top of him, staying braced against the bike, riding it out together with Jax. Finally, the other man slid out and pulled back. Daryl stayed supported against the bike a moment longer, head down, committing the experience to memory, savoring the feelings the orgasm had brought. When he straightened up and started putting his clothes back in order Jax stepped up close behind him again. This time the arm that snuck over his chest and pulled him close was gentle, and he could feel the other man's breath warm against his neck.

"Glad you decided to come and check us out, hunter."