AN: Here we go. This is a little one shot to go with a tumblr prompt (pumping iron) by therealsonia. It's just for entertainment purposes, so don't take it too seriously.
This is Mandrea (Merle/Andrea) and Caryl (Carol/Daryl).
I own nothing from the Walking Dead.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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"He's so hot, though," Andrea said. "I swear. I could watch him in...in anything."
Carol laughed.
"But this is pretty bad," Carol said. "Even you have to admit it."
"I don't have to admit anything," Andrea said. "If you're paying attention to the plot then you're doing it wrong. I don't even know what's happening and I'm perfectly OK with that. I don't even know what this movie is about."
"You could be paying attention and still not know what the movie's about," Carol said. "I've been watching for this full hour and—I don't have a clue. Still—he does kind of make it worth it, doesn't he?"
Now it was Andrea's turn to laugh.
"His movies don't sell because they're incredibly written," Andrea said. "And it certainly isn't his impeccably delivered lines that are drawing masses. It's those arms. And they know it or they wouldn't have him wearing sleeveless shirts in everything."
"Mmmm," Carol hummed. "His arms. His chest. But it's that ass that holds my attention. He could crack walnuts with that thing."
Their voices were drifting in from the bedroom—where both of them were laid up in the bed watching some chick flick that Andrea had picked up recently—and Daryl and Merle couldn't help but overhear their conversation. When it had first begun, Daryl and Merle had lowered the volume on the television out of curiosity. The volume had gotten lower and lower as time went on, though, and Daryl had gotten more disgusted. His brother's face, too, told him that he was no less disturbed by what he was hearing.
"What the fuck are they watchin'?" Daryl asked.
"I thought it was porn at first," Merle said. "Now I ain't so damn sure."
"Andrea watches porn?" Daryl asked.
"Hell yeah, lil' brother," Merle said. "Fuckin' Fridays is a real damn thing around here. Hell—I don't care when it's porn 'cause I know who the hell her ass is goin' to bed with. But—that shit don't sound like porn. Don't got the right kinda music. Carol don't watch porn?"
"Hell," Daryl responded. "I don't watch porn. I reckon I'd be surprised if she did." He laughed to himself. "Besides, I'd rather make that shit than watch it...you get my drift."
The conversation between the two women continued and Daryl and Merle continued to listen, letting their own conversation trail off. They might have remained there, their own television on mute, listening to their wives chatter until whatever they were watching went off, but Daryl found that he finally couldn't handle it any longer. When he heard Carol say something about the man's back muscles—something she always said she admired so much on him—he had to know who the hell she was ogling while she rolled around in bed with Andrea.
"Fuck it," Daryl told Merle. "I'm goin' in."
Daryl got up from the couch, fully aware that Merle was coming with him as long as he was blazing the trail, and made his way through the house. He stopped outside the bedroom door and knocked at the doorframe. The door was cracked, but he didn't want to barge in.
"You both got'cha damn clothes on?" Daryl asked.
"Why would we be naked?" Carol called.
"I don't know that, Carol," Daryl responded. "I'm just askin' before I come in. You both got'cha clothes on?"
There was some laughter from his sister in law.
"Hold on a minute, Daryl," Andrea said. "I can't watch movies with Carol without taking everything off."
"Come on," Carol said. "She's just playing with you."
Daryl stepped into the bedroom. Both women were sitting on top of the bed—his brother's bed—and both of them were dressed. Between them was an open bag of potato chips and a bag of chocolate chips that they were apparently eating like candy. Nothing seemed out of place or odd about the room.
The movie—or whatever they were watching—was paused. Carol held the remote in her hand while it rested against her thigh. She looked like her finger was on the trigger. She intended to humor him just long enough to get him to leave so that they could continue watching.
Merle entered the room behind him.
"The fuck you watchin' in here?" Merle asked. "Porn?"
Both Carol and Andrea laughed and looked at each other in such a way that Daryl wasn't entirely sure that they weren't watching porn.
"What the fuck is this?" Daryl asked, stepping around to see the television better.
"It's a DVD," Andrea said. "Calm down!"
"They sell porn on DVDs, darlin'," Merle offered.
"I know they do," Andrea said. "But not at Kmart. It's a movie. It's about...Carol? What's it about?"
Carol laughed. Apparently it was the funniest question that she'd heard all day because they had to give her a solid two minutes to get over the laugher that it invoked.
"It's about...this cop who...well he...there's this guy who doesn't like his wife and he's got a drug problem and..." Carol started, but it was clear that she had no real idea what the movie was about either.
"You even watchin' this shit?" Daryl asked, interrupting her poor plot synopsis.
"Oh, we're watching it," Andrea offered.
"We heard your ass watchin' it," Merle responded. "Who you lookin' at? Let me see him."
Daryl hummed in agreement. He, too, wanted to see the man that had both the women stirred up. Carol sighed and lifted the remote. Scanning backwards, she stopped the television on what she considered a good "shot" of the man that they were both ogling.
"That asshole?" Daryl asked. "Carol? You lookin' at that asshole?"
"What?" Carol asked, some red running to her cheeks. "I'm not sleeping with him, Daryl. I'm just watching him."
Merle hummed and stepped closer to the television to examine the actor more closely. He looked at his wife, then, but he didn't look too bothered by things. At least, he didn't look as bothered by things as Daryl might have thought he would.
"You got the hots for him?" Merle asked.
"I like looking at him," Andrea said.
"What the hell for? He doin' somethin' you ain't seen before?" Merle asked.
Carol laughed and tried to stop it. It resulted in a choking sound.
"He's just got a really nice body," Carol offered. "We're just appreciating his body from an artistic perspective."
Andrea snorted.
"Yeah," she agreed. "Completely artistic."
"What the fuck you even like about him?" Daryl asked. "His damn face looks like he lost a fight with a wall."
"Oh it's not his face," Andrea said.
Carol laughed.
"I didn't even realize he had a head for the first five or so minutes there..." Carol said. She blushed a little redder when Daryl looked at her again.
"I gotta know too," Merle said. "Hell—I don't give a damn what'cha priming your damn gears with 'cause I know where you sleeping tonight. But—what the hell's so damn great about him?"
"Look at him!" Andrea declared. "Look at his body! There's nothing on his body that isn't muscle. That man is built like a brick house."
"His muscles have muscles," Carol said. "Everything's just so...tight."
"Carol!" Daryl responded to her.
"I'm sorry!" She declared. "It's true! It doesn't mean that I don't think you're incredible but...you have to admit, he's pretty built."
Daryl looked at the man again and caught Merle looking at him. Merle's expression said that he felt exactly the same way that Daryl felt about things.
"That asshole only looks like that 'cause he takes steroids," Daryl said. "You don't get that kinda bulk from nothin' but steroids. He's damn near fake."
"Fuckin' dick ain't prob'ly ain't as big as my damn pinky finger," Merle said. "You know that shit'll shrink your dick? Fuck if a lil' extra bulk up top's worth fuckin' up the good damn thing you got down below."
"OK," Andrea said. "OK. Some of it might be steroids, but you don't get everything to be that tight from steroids. This is a man that works out. He probably spends most of his time working out."
"Exactly," Daryl said. "What the hell he don't get from steroids? Gets that shit from spendin' his whole damn life in a gym. And you know why he can do that shit? 'Cause he ain't got no damn real job."
"Prob'ly got some fancy ass fucker cookin' his damn food an' shit too," Merle said. "Not livin' the—I'm too tired tonight so we gonna order a pizza lifestyle."
"Whew!" Andrea declared. "You are mad! Boy—aren't they mad, Carol?"
Carol laughed. To add insult to injury, Carol laughed.
"That shit ain't funny!" Daryl declared.
"I'm sorry," Carol said quickly. "But—steroids or special diets and workouts—we were just admiring what he's got."
"And what the hell he's got ain't real," Daryl said. "Merle an' me both been pumpin' iron since we was teenagers. Liftin' shit we could find when we didn't have no weights."
"And you both look wonderful!" Carol said quickly. "It wasn't about that. But..."
Daryl could feel himself calming down a little. Through it all, his pulse had picked up, but slowly it was dropping back to a normal pace. Merle, who seemed less bothered than he was but still seemed bothered to some degree, was also calming a little.
Unless, of course, Carol was about to open a whole new can of worms.
"But what?" Daryl asked.
"But it's the same thing when you're watching those cheerleader things on television," Carol said.
"Or when the Victoria Secret underwear show is on," Andrea offered.
"Or any time you're watching almost any movie and we get to hear about how really incredible someone's tits are," Carol offered.
"Not the same thing," Daryl said.
"Absolutely the same thing," Carol said.
"Them's real people," Merle said.
"Real people with boob jobs," Andrea said. "And eating disorders."
"Real people with airbrushing and personal stylists," Carol said. "With—dieticians and cooks and trainers."
"Real people without jobs," Andrea said. "So they can spend their whole day at the gym, right next to that guy, with their personal trainer. They never have to go home and order that pizza for dinner because they got off late and they haven't been off their feet since the sun came up."
"Those women are every bit as artificial as he is," Carol said. "But you still think they're attractive."
"And we still let you watch them," Andrea said. "Even though, Merle? I know that I'll never be as skinny as they are. Especially not if we have those kids we keep talking about?"
"And I'll never have tits that could double as end tables," Carol said.
"I don't expect you to," Daryl said. "Hell—I like your tits like they are. They the right size for me."
Merle laughed.
"And I like a lil' somethin' I can hold onto. You know I hate it when you doing that dieting shit an' the first damn thing that starts to go is your tits and ass," Merle offered.
"And I love that there's just a little bit of soft around your middle," Andrea said. "Because it's just right for snuggling."
Carol laughed.
"And Daryl—you already know that yours are my favorite muscles," she said.
Daryl felt his face run hot, but he appreciated the rush that the compliment gave him. He cleared his throat to try to clear his embarrassment.
"Fuck," Daryl said. "Guess it don't matter. I mean—you just watchin' a movie and...there ain't no damn harm in likin' somethin' on a movie."
"Ain't no different than watchin' porn to get'cha motor runnin'," Merle said. "Except—I don't think this asshole's got nothin' to teach you."
"He's got nothing on you," Andrea said, winking at Merle.
"He's got nothing on either of you," Carol said. "He's just—someone to watch on really, really bad movies."
"Hell, we gonna go back in there. Finish the rest of the game. Watcha damn movie. Enjoy it. He ain't real," Daryl said, feeling a little bit better about things.
Carol smiled at him.
"No," she said, winking at him much like Andrea had recently winked at his brother. "Because we've already got the real thing."