Chapter Four
The next morning, it took hours for Daryl to get up the courage to slink his way out of the guest room. He flicked his way through every book on the shelf beside his bed, carded through a half dozen magazines, and even examined the window for several minutes, trying to determine if he could shimmy his way out and make a break for it.
He passed a good deal of his time in the shower, letting the room fill up with steam while he tried to make sense of everything that had happened last night. The truth was, Daryl couldn't decide how he felt. Even though he wasn't regretting it, the prospect of facing Rick and Shane now was daunting at best.
Daryl realized that what had happened the night before was probably just a matter of feeling sorry for him. He knew what the word Dixon meant to people in this town, especially cops. By and large, his last name invited either anger or pity, and last night was no exception.
Still, the memory of Rick and Shane holding him, touching him, kissing him... fuck, he'd never be able to shake it. He could still feel their hands on him, in the best possible way. Pumping up the cold water, it took several minutes under the icy spray before Daryl could get a hold of himself.
And as it turned out, Daryl's lengthy shower was the only thing keeping Rick and Shane from knocking down the guest room door that very morning, when 10 AM rolled around and the younger man still hadn't come out. When they heard the telltale creak of pipes, and the slosh of water on tile, they at least knew that Daryl was alive.
The sweet smells of bacon frying and coffee brewing finally pushed Daryl to shuffle his way out of the guest room and down the hallway. Daryl hesitated in the kitchen doorway and watched Shane and Rick where they sat at the table.
The pair were sitting in companionable silence, drinking their coffee and sharing the Sunday paper. Shane was reading the Sports section, and Rick was paging through Arts and Entertainment. Every other minute, they'd both sip from their mugs in perfect sync. And Daryl immediately felt like he was intruding on a private moment. Like the past 24 hours had been one long intrusion into a life they both seemed very happy leading alone.
The younger man cleared his throat awkwardly, jumping a little himself when both Rick and Shane started and turned to look at him.
"You're up!" Rick immediately exclaimed, smiling, "Come, sit. Have some breakfast."
Daryl hovered on the edge of the kitchen tile for a beat too long. "Should probably get going," he muttered.
"Daryl," Shane said, in a much firmer tone than Rick had managed, "There's no chance we're letting you walk out of this house hungry. So come. Sit."
Letting out an inaudible sigh, Daryl dragged his feet over to the table and sat opposite the two men, bristling a little when Rick was immediately on his feet, preparing a plate of food for him and questioning whether he liked coffee, waffles, eggs.
"M'fine," Daryl muttered for the billionth time, before beginning to pick at the food in front of him under Shane and Rick's watchful eyes. But he didn't resign himself to picking for long. As soon as the first warm, sizzling mouthful hit his tongue, Daryl was shoveling the food into his mouth like it was his last meal.
He blushed hard when Rick was immediately on his feet and filling his plate up with food again, and tried his best to eat slower this time, still refusing to look up from the table.
"How are you feeling?" Rick asked the younger Dixon slowly.
"Fine," Daryl mumbled in between mouths of food.
"Head still hurting?" Shane pressed, catching those baby blue eyes with a look that Daryl knew meant he had to be honest.
"A little," he said finally, "Not as bad as yesterday."
"Gonna wanna look you over after we're done eating," Shane said.
Daryl frowned at him. "Don't gotta," he said, "Made it through the night, didn't I?"
Shane scratched at the back of his head. "Yeah. But just...lemme check you over one more time, alright? Need to know you're okay."
The sincerity of his words left Daryl speechless, briefly.
He set his fork down on the side of his plate. "Let's get it over with, then," Daryl muttered, figuring that once Shane was sure that he wouldn't be fainting on the way home, he'd finally usher the younger man out the door.
Shooting him a slightly confused look, Shane led Daryl back to the couch in the living room while Rick busied himself with cleaning up breakfast.
They sat down on the couch facing each other, next to the First Aid kid from the night before.
"Gonna check over your heard first, okay?" Shane said, holding Daryl's gaze. The blue-eyed boy nodded. And though he flinched when Shane's hands came up to gently turn his jaw, Daryl stopped himself from jerking away entirely.
Fingers ghosted over Daryl's temples, across his forehead and down either side of his neck. The contact, as fleeting as it was, had Daryl shivering noticeably. His eyes darted up to Shane's face, but he couldn't decide if the dark-haired man was biting back a frown or a smile.
"You don't like it when I touch you?" Shane asked, voice carefully neutral.
Daryl's cheeks flared searing red. "I…" he trailed off, not so sure even in his own mind what the right answer was. The truth was, he did like it. His body did, at least, but his brain hadn't quite caught up.
"I don't…" Daryl began, painfully uncertain, "don't hate it."
Shane smiled softly at him. "I'll keep it in mind. Now, I wanna make sure those cracked ribs of yours ain't gonna turn to something more serious. But to do that, I've gotta have a proper look at them. I know last night you didn't want to take the shirt off, but what if you just pull it up? Won't hardly touch you. Just enough to be sure you ain't in any danger."
Daryl considered his words for a long moment, then nodded, leaning back against the arm of the couch and pulling his shirt up to bunch at his chest.
True to his word, Shane's fingers grazed over his stomach as gentle as a feather. But even touches so fleeting had Daryl trembling, both from how good it felt, and from the realization that Shane was the first to touch Daryl's naked torso in years.
"That's it," Shane said, pulling Daryl's shirt back down for him. "All done. Now how about some meds for the pain, huh?"
Daryl struggled to sit up again, feeling that familiar twinge in his middle.
"Don't want 'em," he replied, "M'fine."
"You're not," Shane disagreed, "It's hurting you just to keep yourself sitting up straight. You think I can't tell?"
He was getting pushy, but Daryl figured for the right reasons. Still, he mumbled, "I can take the pain. S'better than feeling fuzzy. Don't like being out of it like that."
Shane was silent for a moment. He opened and closed his mouth three times successively before saying, "You know you're safe here, right? You don't have to be...on guard."
But Daryl did. He really, really did. "Ain't about that. Would be the same answer no matter where I was."
Shane nodded thoughtfully. "What if there was another way I could help? With the headache, at least. No pills."
"What'd ya have in mind?" Daryl asked.
Shane's eyes darted to his own lap a little sheepishly. "A massage?" When he saw Daryl's eyes narrow in suspicion he continued, "Now hear me out. You don't want to take any pills, okay, I get that. But you're in a hell of a lot of pain and you don't deserve to be. There's a type of massage for people with head trauma- helps get rid of the pressure. The pain. And hell, if it doesn't work, it ain't like it'll do any harm."
Daryl bit hard at his lip, before mumbling, "Can't have you behind me."
Shane hesitated before answering, not sure if this was the right route. "But, last night…"
"Was different," Daryl supplied.
"What if I didn't need to be behind you?" Shane tried."Could do it with you facing me. Might be a little tricky at first, but I'd figure it out."
This is a trap, Daryl's brain screamed at him. But since the rest of his body was still hollering in pain, he knew he wouldn't take much convincing.
"Alright," Daryl said, "How…?"
Shane lay back on the couch until his head hit the armrest. "C'mere," he urged, motioning towards his chest.
Daryl frowned at him, so Shane added, "It'll put too much strain on your ribs if you keep sitting up."
With a defeated sigh, Daryl crawled over towards Shane. And when keeping himself suspended over the other man's body proved too painful to bear, he carefully lowered himself down, his chest to Shane's stomach.
Shane was still sitting most of the way up, and Daryl had to admit, laying like this was a hell of a lot less painful than he'd figured. But then Shane's hands settled down onto Daryl's shoulders, and the younger man seized up tight enough for every nerve in his body to scream in protest.
"Hey. What…?" Shane immediately asked him, worried.
"D-don't touch my back," Daryl stuttered out in a rush.
"Alright," Shane said, moving his hands up to the back of Daryl's neck and holding them there. "I won't. Promise."
The brown-eyed man was already feeling a little guilty. He probably could have managed just as well if Daryl had been laying on his back. Or if he'd let him stretch out face down across the couch. But Shane had allowed himself this indulgence, and he'd be damned if it hadn't already paid off tenfold.
Shane's hands began to travel in tight, concentric circles. His fingers pressed gently at Daryl's temples, then travelled down his spine and rubbed methodically at his tired shoulders. The younger Dixon hadn't had many positive physical experiences he could remember. There was a ghost of a recollection of his mother stroking his hair when he was very young, soothing him through a first haircut. And then there was that exuberant hug for Merle, the first time his big brother had come back for a stint in juvie, and long before Daryl had understood that it would soon be a pattern.
Still, the best memory by far was so deeply entangled with one of his worst that he usually avoided thinking about it at all. The way those sets of hands had felt, touching him gently, making him feel warm all over, before they'd contorted into fists. That high of being made to feel good, wanted, adored- immediately negated by a click of silver handcuffs and a harsh blow to the back of his head.
The thought of it had Daryl's body tensing up against his will. But Shane seemed entirely unperturbed. He cooed to Daryl in a murmur that was low, and deep, and largely incoherent. And even though Daryl still wanted to flee, still had that nagging feeling of it'satrap and wrongwrongwrong repeating itself in the back of his mind, Shane's hands were too good to combat for long.
His eyes closed. His body melted into Shane's. And Daryl was fast asleep, sprawled across the older man's chest, before he ever knew it was happening.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
Shane had to fight the urge to jump when sometime later, two hands settled on his shoulders from behind. But even though there was an initial shock of being jerked awake, Shane knew those hands. He knew them intrinsically. And while if anyone else had approached him that way, Shane might have hit them, Rick was an exception. He always had been.
"You knock him out?" Rick teased, settling down on the other side of Shane and letting the brown-haired man lean into his side.
Shane hummed low and deep, tilting his head up towards Rick's face with his eyes closed. With Daryl on one side, and RIck on the other, Shane couldn't have been more content. The realization was startling, considering just how long it typically took him to trust people. But it was true nonetheless, and Shane couldn't help but think that if having Daryl here felt this right, then that had to mean something.
"You want to keep him," Rick murmured. And even though he sounded more accepting than angry, Shane went stock still beside him.
"I…" I do, fuck, I really do. But even if I want him, I need you. "I want whatever you want," Shane decided on, "Waited too long for this to give it up easy. Losing you… it'd kill me, Rick. I can't-"
"Hey," Rick said sharply, demanding his attention. He placed his hand on Shane's cheek and held his gaze. "You're not going to lose me. Never. And...I want to keep him, too."
Shane's body went slack, relief pulling his eyes slowly shut.
"Thank fuck," Shane mumbled, "He needs someone like you."
"Why's that?" Rick questioned.
"You put me back together," Shane said, "Kept me whole, even back when there were parts of me I thought needed killing. Back when I figured it wouldn't matter much if one day I was just...gone. And Daryl needs that. Needs someone to be kind to him, and show him that where he came from don't matter."
"You've been doing a good job so far," Rick replied.
"He's only been here one night," Shane scoffed, "I'll fuck it up sooner or later. It'll be you he needs, then."
"You're not going to fuck anything up," Rick soothed, "You think he would have fallen asleep on top of just anyone? Maybe he doesn't understand why just yet, but you two share something. He trusts you."
"Trusts you too," Shane said. "Wouldn't have done shit last night otherwise."
"I don't know," Rick murmured with a smile, "Maybe you're just irresistible. Got me into bed, after all."
Shane let out a too-loud chuckle, smiling up at the man he'd loved since he was six. The movement jostled Daryl awake. As soon as he recognized that he was lying on something warm and breathing, Daryl vaulted himself away on instinct. His broken ribs screamed in protest, and he immediately curled in on himself, trying to breathe through the pain.
"Shit, Daryl, do you gotta hurt yourself even worse?" Shane scolded, sitting up himself and placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Sorry," Daryl gasped out. Then, a little steadier now that the initial flare of pain had subsided, "Sorry, for fallin' asleep. Didn't mean to."
"Did it seem like I minded?" Shane replied, smiling, though Daryl couldn't figure out why.
Daryl rubbed at his eyes, ignoring the dull throb in his head that had accompanied his sudden move upright. "Should get going," he mumbled, for perhaps the tenth time since he'd arrived the night before.
"No," Rick disagreed, as gently as he could, "You should stay."
Daryl looked to Rick, then to Shane, trying to understand. "Why?"
"Did you like what we did last night?" Shane asked.
Daryl blushed wildly. "Didn't stop ya," he muttered, rather than telling the truth.
"That's not what he asked," Rick countered. "Did you like it?"
"Yes!" Daryl bit out, angry now. "But I know why ya did it. And-"
"Oh yeah? Why then?" Rick asked, cutting him off.
"'Cuz…" Daryl frowned at the floor, "Fuck, for the same goddamn reason anyone else ever bothers with me. Fuckin' pity. And I don't need that. I ain't some mangy mutt you can pick up off the street and fuckin' domesticate. Ya done enough."
"Daryl," Shane barked, stopping the younger man before he could launch himself up off the couch. "Daryl, last night happened because me and Rick wanted it to happen. We wanted you. Still do."
The younger Dixon fell back into the opposite corner of the couch, staring at the two of them like they were speaking another language.
"What…" he laughed, a little breathlessly, a little manic, and scrubbed a hand over his face. "What does that even mean?"
Shane got up and sat on the edge of the couch, caging him in without a second thought. Rick moved closer, settled his hand down on Daryl's knee. And Shane's hand was creeping up his arm, voice licking at the crest of his ear. It was all too much. Too fucking much, but Daryl knew he wouldn't be able to walk away.
"It means we want you to stay," Shane told him lowly, "It means you're always going to have a place to go. Here. With us."
Daryl shook his head resolutely. "I can't. I'll fuck things up between you. I'm no good-"
"Does it look like things are fucked up between us?" Rick cut him off again, eyes glittering with something Daryl couldn't identify.
"I'd say they're better than ever," Shane agreed, "And we could teach you things, Daryl. Could show you how good it can be. Or...or we don't gotta teach you nothin' at all. Take last night as a one-time thing. But it doesn't matter to us, alright? Whatever you decide, we still want you here."
Daryl appraised them slowly. "What we did last night- you both wanna do that again?"
"Yes," Rick immediately breathed, stroking over the inside of Daryl's thigh now that he was sure they'd already won. "But maybe somethin' a little different, too. If you want that."
Daryl licked his lips. Licked then slow and purposeful, and he couldn't have been sending a clearer message if he'd tried. He turned his head to the side, and Shane's lips were on his. Tasting him, owning him, tongue thrusting into his mouth in a way that was downright sinful.
Then, Rick was crawling up his body too, somehow managing to suspend all his weight above Daryl's bruised form. Rick's lips met his at the same time Shane's mouth descended to his neck. When two hands dragged their way down his chest, two hands that couldn't possibly belong to the same person, Daryl couldn't help but let out a low groan.
"That's it, sweetheart," Rick murmured when they broke apart. He closed his hand around Daryl's cock through his sweatpants, and the younger man bucked his hips hard enough that it hurt.
"Fuck," Daryl gasped, and then when Rick shucked up his shirt just high enough to suck at his exposed hip, "Oh, fuck. God."
Rick slipped two fingers under the waistband of Daryl's sweatpants and tugged, and the boy gasped, immediately slapping his hands over Rick's to stop him.
"M'not. M'not-" Because how the hell else was he supposed to tell them that he was bare under those sweatpants.
"I know you're not," Rick drawled, "That's kind of the point."
"Think you'd be up for that 'somethin' different' we mentioned?" Shane asked.
Daryl swallowed thickly. He nodded, and it felt like catharsis.
"Don't be nervous," Rick said as he exposed Daryl to their hungry eyes. "You tell us to stop, we stop."
He settled down onto his knees between Daryl's splayed legs, and wrapped a hand around the boy's twitching cock. The archer sucked in a quick breath through his teeth.
"Same goes for harder. Faster," Shane purred, moving behind Rick on the floor and keeping one hand on Daryl's knee as he sucked and licked at the older man's neck. "Or just more."
The younger Dixon whimpered quietly, a noise so fragile he'd never admit to it, and watched as Shane slowly bent Rick forwards.
"You ever thought about this, Daryl?" Shane asked him, "Know y'ain't done it. But maybe ya thought about it, just once, before last night?"
Daryl shook his head quickly, pumping his hips up into Rick's fist like he was born to do it.
"Wasn't allowed," Daryl grunted softly. His mouth fell open as he watched Shane slick up a finger and slip it into Rick's willing form.
Daryl's face had fallen into a frown before he had the will to stop it. He caught Rick's eye, watched as the man panted against his thigh, stroked him faster and faster.
"It don't hurt?" Daryl asked him softly.
"No," Rick gasped, pressing back against Shane's hand, "Feels good." The brown-haired man added a second finger and Rick groaned out his pleasure against Daryl's skin. "Why would you think it'd hurt?" Rick questioned suddenly.
Daryl blushed, and his eyes darted off to the side. "Just seems like it would."
Before Rick could conceptualize what Daryl might be insinuating, Shane shoved a third finger inside him, and pleasure flooded his system.
"Fuck, Shane please," Rick moaned. "M'ready, m'ready c'mon."
And Shane could never deny the other man with him sounding so fucking sultry-sweet sinfully bad. As Daryl watched them with wide eyes, Shane sank slowly inside. He held Rick's hips tight, but Daryl's gaze even tighter.
"Jesus," Rick breathed when Shane hit home. He rested his face against Daryl's leg now, caught up in his own pleasure.
"Nah, just Shane," his partner chuckled, before grabbing the back of Rick's neck with enough force that his intentions couldn't be mistaken. "C'mon, Rick. You're so close already. Show him what he's been missing all these years."
With one look up towards Daryl's face for permission, Rick leaned down slow as molasses and took the younger man's cock in his mouth for the first time.
"Fuck!" Daryl cried out, arching up gracefully. One of his hands flew up to his mouth, trying to stifle the noise. But it fell back to his lap when Shane shot him a stern look.
"Don't you dare," Shane grunted, slowly drawing in and out of Rick's body, "We want to hear you."
They built up a slow rhythm together. Shane would slam his hips forward into Rick, fucking right up against his prostate in a way he knew the man would love. And Shane's movement would propel Rick forwards, sending his mouth sliding down Daryl's length as he moaned around the thick flesh in his mouth. The vibrations, combined with the slick, wet heat of Rick's writhing tongue would get Daryl whimpering too, hips rolling to meet RIck's thrusts on instinct.
It was a fucking sight to behold, and Shane couldn't have been any happier.
"Put your hands in his hair," Shane instructed over Rick's body, "Not too hard. Just enough to show him you like it."
Daryl did as Shane said, sliding one hand into Rick's curly locks while the other settled on the blue-eyed cop's shoulder.
"You wanna come in his mouth, Daryl?" Shane asked breathlessly, "He wants you to. Look at the way he's gagging on your cock, happy as a kid in a candy store. He wants to make you come, Daryl. You gonna give him what he wants?"
"Yes," Daryl moaned with his head thrown back, fingers tightening in Rick's hair. "Fuck, m'close…"
Shane chose that moment to reach underneath Rick's body and twist his palm rapidly over the head of the older man's leaking cock.
Rick moaned loud and long enough to be heard several counties over. And the intense vibrations, accidental as they were, shoved Daryl forcefully over the edge.
"Fuck. Fuck!" Daryl moaned as he poured himself down Rick's eager throat. His grip on Rick's head went tight as a vice, and his hips juddered upwards, milking out his orgasm for all it was worth.
The sight of it was too much for Shane, who followed soon after, slapping his hips into Rick's until he was utterly spent. Afterwards, he pulled out slowly, fully aware that Rick still needed some relief.
"C'mere," Shane murmured, motioning for Daryl to kneel beside him.
A little hesitantly, Daryl did as he asked, taking his place behind Rick's prone body.
"You wanna make him come?" Shane drawled. He hadn't forgotten Daryl's reaction earlier, and now was as good a time as any to prove that anal was nothing to be afraid of.
Daryl nodded silently, and looked to Shane for direction.
"You won't hurt him," Shane reminded him gently, leading Daryl's hands down where Rick needed it. He pressed one of his fingers in alongside Daryl's, and helped the younger man to locate Rick's prostate, massaging it slowly. Rick moaned and shoved himself backwards. "See? It feels good. He wants more."
With Daryl looking far less concerned than earlier, Shane let the boy take over, and instead moved to Rick's side. He rubbed slow circles over his partner's shoulders.
Daryl surprised both cops by adding a second finger unprompted, pupils blown wide when Rick moaned out his name loudly.
"Gonna have to do it harder if you want him to come like that," Shane advised, smirking a little.
Daryl nodded with a look of concentration on his face and fucked his fingers into Rick's body more forcefully.
"Oh, god," Rick sobbed, half incoherent. "Fuck, please. Please."
And Daryl found himself thinking that Rick shouldn't have to beg. Not for this. So he reached around the blue-eyed man's body and took his leaking cock in hand, stroking him with the same firm, hard rhythm.
"G'wan, now," Daryl found himself murmuring. And when Rick released onto his hand and the floor with a protracted moan, back arching gracefully, "Yeah. Yeah, that's it. C'mon."
Hearing Daryl talk like that had Shane's cock twitching in a valiant effort to rejoin the party. But what was more interesting was that the younger Dixon didn't even seem to realize that he was speaking.
Rick rolled into a sitting position, still shuddering, and needily pulled Daryl forward into a searing kiss.
"Thank you," he breathed when they broke for air, "Jesus, that was…"
Daryl blushed a little, even less sure of himself now that the main event had come to a close.
"You know what I could really use?" Shane said, looking between the two of them.
"A smoke?" Rick teased.
"Nah," Shane sighed, "A nap." He stood up and pulled Rick along with him. Then, he held out a hand to Daryl.
"You coming?"
The air stood still as Daryl stared up at Rick and Shane, his post-orgasm haze slowly slipping away. He could say no. He could leave, now, and never come back. Daryl knew that the cops would let him, that they didn't want to hurt him in any way. He could head back to his lonely shack of a house, kept company only by the shitty memories that had imprisoned him there for years.
Or, he could stay.
"Yeah," Daryl said at long last. The pause had been a few seconds too long, but his answer put smiles on both men's faces. "Yeah, sounds good."
He took Shane's hand.