Corporation: a group of persons united.
Daryl and Glenn are together and taking care of business.
Glenn
The sports bar is kind of a dive but that's not a disadvantage for a blue collar joint in Georgia. And it serves Daryl's favorite beer. We start at a table by ourselves with pulled pork sandwiches served southern style with a scoop of coleslaw on top. There are other men and a few women filling the place. When the game starts, it gets convivial, pushing tables together, taking turns buying rounds and springing for hot wings at half-time.
I'm designated driver on nights like this because Daryl likes beer more than I do. I had one with supper and one more early in the evening and then I switched to soda. Daryl isn't drunk but he's pleasantly buzzed by the time the game is over.
He's also horny as we head to the truck a couple of blocks away. He backs me up to a crumbling brick wall and kisses me. I put an arm around his neck and a hand between his legs. We won't do more but this is a nice interlude, a little foretaste of what will happen at home.
We're turning toward the truck again when a belligerent voice half-slurs, "Looka that. Couple of goddamned queers."
"Filthy fags," another voice mutters.
"Let's get to the truck," I whisper.
Of course Daryl ignores me and instead turns to face four men in various stages of inebriation. Daryl probably thinks the odds look good.
"I tried you all's mamas and sisters." Daryl's drawl is more pronounced when he's been drinking. "That's when I got turned off women. 'Course I'm bein' generous callin' 'em women. They were barely human much less female. But they did say I was a better fuck than their sons and brothers."
This speech enrages the four. 1 and 2 start for Daryl. 3 and 4 hang back, not like they're afraid or having second thoughts about the beating but as if they're content to watch their companions bludgeon us until it's their turn. I back against the wall again.
Daryl steps forward to meet his attackers. His fist clenches and he draws his arm back low for an upward jab to the solar plexus. 1 sees Daryl's move and drops his arms to protect his abdomen. 2 rushes forward but teeters on the heels of his cowboy boots. Daryl is planted solid in his work boots. He sweeps one foot at 2's legs and 2 stumbles. At the same time Daryl straightens his arm and raises it to smash 1's unprotected face. 2 falls over his own feet and Daryl's boot so Daryl kicks him while he's down. 1's hands are pressed against his bloody nose and Daryl gives him the punch in the solar plexus that he previously avoided.
3 and 4 are slow to step in, not having foreseen this turn of events. 3 heads for Daryl and 4 turns to me. I'm still standing at the wall with my arms behind me. 4 raises a fist to me and I meet it with the loose brick I pulled from the wall. 4 bends over howling and holding his broken hand.
3 manages to hit Daryl but Daryl turns slightly and takes the blow on his hunched shoulder so it does little damage. But he's in a bad position to lash back and 3 is on him again so I bash his head with the brick. Up the block a cruiser rolls toward us, lights revolving on the roof rack. It's the po-po! The siren sounds once as the cruiser pulls to the curb.
The driver, a big black man, stays behind his open door with gun drawn. His partner, a large white man with ginger hair and mustache approaches, gun also drawn.
"Weapons down, hands up and open."
I drop the brick. When it's clear there is nothing else in anyone's hands, the officer calls out, "No weapons, Tyreese, except for Brick Boy. This is what you call fisticuffs."
Tyreese comes forward. "Son, maybe you should put that brick back before the wall falls down."
"I think there's blood on it," I tell him. "Do you need to bag and tag it?"
Tyreese sighs. "Abraham, we got another CSI fan."
Abraham looks around. "Anybody pressing charges?"
Nobody speaks.
"Then we don't need the brick."
"Can I have it?"
"What for?"
"Souvenir."
Daryl snorts. The officers laugh.
"Sure, Brick Boy. But don't pick it up until we're all ready to leave."
"What happened here?" Tyreese inquires mildly. "And I hope the story matches what we saw from up the street."
"You could have stopped it?" I'm indignant because we could have been badly hurt.
"I was in favor of that," Tyreese replies. "But my partner said let it play out. He's got seniority."
"You two did all right," Abraham says. "I figured these four were drunker. Thought it would be interesting. We didn't bet on it or anything." He pauses. "On an unrelated matter, Ty, you owe me 20 bucks."
"They called us queers and fags and were going to beat us up," I tell them.
"Hate crime," Abraham says. "Sure you don't want to press charges?"
"We're sure." Daryl finally speaks. "Stop talking, kid." Uh oh. Everybody else was silent, no doubt aware of some code. But I've never been in a fight interrupted by the law before.
"Anybody need an ambulance?" Abraham asks.
Silence.
"Some of you might need medical attention but you're on your own if you refuse treatment here. Is one of you okay to drive?"
2, who had only fallen down and been kicked in the back, raises his hand. Tyreese administers a breathalyzer test which 2 passes, barely.
"Let's see some ID before you four leave," Abraham orders.
"Who was the ringleader?" Abraham asks me. I'm the snitch of the group. I point to 1.
Abraham starts with him, shining his flashlight in each face as he checks their licenses.
"Gareth West. Not a good judge of victims, are you Gary? Anthony Munoz. You're too fat to fight in high heels, Tony. David James. Congratulations, Dave, you're the only one who actually landed a punch. Randall Culver. How did fist bumping a brick work out for you, Randy?"
"All right, get the hell out of here. Looks like two gays are tougher than four straight assholes. Keep that in mind," Abraham calls out as they limp away.
When they're gone Tyreese turns to me. "Wasn't going to get into this while they were around but this guy called you kid. I gotta know how old you are."
"I'm not a kid, he just calls me that sometimes. I'm 22."
Tyreese shines his flashlight on my face. "Probably. But let's see some ID."
I hand over my driver's license.
"Glenn Rhee," Tyreese says to Abraham. "Gonna be 23 next month." He hands my license back. "Happy Birthday, kid."
"See what you started?" I say to Daryl.
"Sorry, baby, it slipped out," Daryl replies deadpan.
We all laugh. I'm glad to hear Daryl flirting in company. It bodes well for continuing the activity that got so rudely interrupted by those four goons.
"Rhee." Tyreese frowns. "I've seen that before."
"Pizza place," Abraham says.
"That's right. Pizza-Rhee-a."
I'm pleased they recognized it. "That's my place. Have you been in?"
"Yeah, you make a decent pie. But I thought the sign was misspelled."
"I thought it was clever at the time, but nobody knows what it means. Maybe I should change it."
"Naw, it's good," Abraham says. "Just need to add your name in front so everybody gets the word play right away. Make it Glenn Rhee's Pizza-Rhee-a."
"You're a marketing genius." I mean it. It's a good idea and I wish I'd thought of it.
"And you need a lighted sign instead of that plain billboard," Abraham goes on. "I got a buddy in the neon business." He searches his pockets and hands me a crumpled card. "Eugene'll fix you up."
"It sounds great but I'm not sure I can afford it."
Daryl, who probably hopes to get laid before midnight, speaks again. "I'll buy the sign for your birthday. Let's go."
"There you go," Abraham says. "That sign will bring in more customers. It's not just a birthday present, it's an investment."
I pull out cards of my own for Abraham and Tyreese. "Your next pizzas are free. Thanks guys."
"I better see your ID, too, Boyfriend." Abraham looks it over. "Daryl Dixon. Here's another familiar last name."
"Dixon Ales," Tyreese tells him.
"That's it. No wonder I feel thirsty. Any relation?"
"Me and my brother have a brewery."
"Two upstanding taxpaying citizens. You're free to go."
Daryl picks up the brick I dropped.
"He really wants the brick for a souvenir?" Tyreese asks.
"Yeah, he does," Daryl replies. I just grin and nod.
Daryl
You shouldn't have gone for Glenn until you were in the truck. You don't care for public displays of affection by homo or hetero couples but it was late, the street was empty and dim and you couldn't wait to get your hands and mouth on him. Your lust resulted in giving an attitude adjustment to four prejudiced pricks but you don't regret the fight. It was good exercise and the adrenaline sobered you up. You're proud of Glenn for doing his part.
On the drive home, Glenn says you don't have to buy the new sign. "I can write it off as a business expense."
"Sure, but I'll pay for it. And I want the old sign. We met because of it, remember?"
Glenn
My pizza place had been open a week and business was still slow when two men walked in. The first was tall with buzzed hair and blunt features, rugged rather than handsome. The second was a couple of inches shorter but his shoulders were broad and his features refined and modeled to be very good-looking. The blue eyes didn't hurt either.
"I can take your order whenever you're ready."
"I got a question," Blunt said. Blue Eyes studied the menu board.
"Go ahead."
"What's with the sign? I ain't a spelling bee champ but it don't look right."
"It's a play on my last name. I'm Glenn Rhee."
"Huh. Guess that's witty then. And you're young to have your own place. I heard Chinese kids were smart."
"I'm Korean."
"Whatever. We need a large with lots of meat and a couple of sodas. Daryl, I don't generally let a homo buy me dinner but I'll make an exception for my brother. Pay the man."
The customer is always right, but I couldn't stay silent. "I'm glad you're so open minded. I'm a homo, too. You won't mind that I make your pizza?"
"Wash your hands first." Blunt grinned at Daryl with raised eyebrows then went to a booth.
"We'll take the Motley Meat Special," Daryl said.
I handed him two cups for soda. "Help yourself. Let me get the pie started and I'll be back to ring it up." As I prepared the crust, spreading tomato paste and loading it with meat and toppings and cheese, I felt sorry for Daryl being related to Blunt.
"Don't mind Merle," Daryl said as I came back to the counter.
"I'm not easy to offend. But I have to ask, is he having a bad day or is he always racist and homophobic?"
Daryl laughed. "He doesn't mean anything by it. He thinks he's helping."
"Helping who?"
"Me."
"How?"
"In five minutes we knew each other's names and that we're both gay."
"You're saying he did that deliberately? To introduce us?"
"Yeah."
"Wait. How did he know I'm gay?"
"He suspected. I can't explain it."
I looked at Merle sipping soda in the corner and shook my head. "So unacceptable. But here we are. And I'm glad you stopped in."
"You with anybody?"
"No. You?"
"Nope. Maybe we should go out sometime. Since Merle went to all this trouble."
"This is bizarre. But okay." I couldn't resist. Daryl was really good-looking and he seemed nice. Maybe he was adopted.
So we went out and we had a good time. It had a preliminary feel at first, like most first dates, when you wait to see if the second impression is as good as the first. It was better, possibly because Merle wasn't with us. I told Daryl about my family back in Michigan and my newly earned double degree in business administration and restaurant management. I learned that Daryl's parents are both dead and he and Merle own and operate a small brewery together. The kiss at the end of the evening started out tentative and quickly became hot which surprised both of us but not in a bad way.
So we kept seeing each other and a few weeks later we went to bed and that was so good, coupled with our growing interest in each other, that we've been together ever since.
When it became clear that our relationship would continue, Merle confessed that he saw a local TV clip of me and another man and woman who were starting new businesses. It was only a couple of minutes so we got about 30 seconds each but apparently that was enough for Merle.
"Daryl wasn't finding anybody on his own so I had to step in," Merle explained. "He always tried guys too much like himself. I had an idea he needed somebody different."
Which still didn't explain why Merle suspected I was gay. But I didn't inquire further. I was just grateful that Merle is smarter than he looks.
Daryl
Finally at home and at long last in bed, you and Glenn lay facing each other. You grasp Glenn in one hand and pull your foreskin over the head of his dick. Your thumb rubs where you're joined. You remember the first time you did it when Glenn creamed almost immediately. He lasts longer this time but soon enough he's squirming and he shoots seconds later.
He rolls a condom over your hard-on. You grease your dick quickly and then take your time lubing Glenn's hole. He's positioned over a pile of pillows. You ease in slow and careful and start with long smooth strokes that build faster than you'd like to short shallow thrusts. The whole damn evening was like foreplay and you feel no need to hold off. Suddenly your balls are no longer swollen with sperm and your shaft isn't bloated with blood.
You both relax a few minutes before cleaning up. You fall asleep in each other's arms.
Glenn
Two days later I call the number on the card. A woman takes my info and arranges for Eugene to stop by the next day.
During the afternoon slow time, a man with a mullet walks in accompanied by a very pretty Hispanic woman.
"This is Eugene Porter. I'm his office manager, Rosita Espinosa."
"Hey there," Eugene says in what sounds like a Texas twang. He's a little odd, with a flat voice and stiff posture.
"He's very good at what he does," Rosita assures me, apparently reading my thoughts. "Although this business would not exist without me."
"I heard that," Eugene says, "And I concur. I am not a businessman, I am a scientist employed in the industry of neon signage. I believe I have discovered my niche in life working with glass tubes and ionized gases. My previous job was teaching science to middle school students." He shudders. "I trust you know why I changed fields."
"Sure, teaching isn't for everyone, including me."
"I'm glad you agree. What can we do for you?"
"I need a new sign." Eugene is staring straight at me with wide unblinking eyes which is so disconcerting that I turn to Rosita instead. "The name of this place is a play on my last name but it confuses everyone so ..."
Eugene interrupts. "I notice your attention has shifted to my assistant. This is natural as she is a very attractive specimen but you should know that she is keeping company with my friend Abraham. Out of loyalty to him, I could not allow any dalliance to occur on my watch."
"Understood. My boyfriend wouldn't like it, either."
"Ah. I apologize for misunderstanding your intention. Carry on."
Rosita speaks. "This will go faster if I tell you that Abraham said you might call. Here are three designs I came up with. Or let me know what you have in mind and we'll go from there."
I look at her drawings in awe. "I like them all."
"Three signs then?" Eugene asks. "Excellent."
"No! I can afford only one."
"Abraham said you have a sugar daddy paying for the sign. Maybe he'll buy all three."
I can't help laughing. "He's not that rich a sugar daddy."
Rosita speaks again. "Eugene, we've talked about this. You're not helping. I design and sell. You make the signs. Division of labor, remember?"
Eugene appears to be searching his memory. "Correct. I'll look around." He wanders off.
Rosita sighs. "He really is the best. I promise you'll be satisfied. Can you narrow it down?"
I take another look. This time as I study them I notice the differences and can pick the one I like best.
"Good choice. We'll get some measurements and I'll send you a proposal." Rosita looks around. "Where is he? Eugene!"
"Back here."
Eugene closes a panel on the side of the pizza oven. "I cleaned the leads and recalibrated the thermostat," he says casually.
"Wow, thank you. The maintenance is coming up and I was going to call someone next week. What do I owe you?"
"No charge, I like to keep busy."
"Well, let me give you some cards for free pizza."
"That's better than money to him," Rosita whispers to me as they leave.
Rosita was right, I love the sign. The circle represents a pizza with Glenn Rhee's in smaller red script arching over the top of PIZZA-RHEE-A in big blue letters below. The colors are beautiful and really stand out.
A week later I close early for a private party. I provide pizza, soda, salad and breadsticks. Daryl brings the beer and Merle brings his girlfriend Andrea. Abraham arrives with Rosita and Eugene. Tyreese is with Carol who is Sophia's mother. All my staff are here tonight. They're part-time, still in high school or college. Noah is assistant manager, Duane and Carl make deliveries and Sophie and Beth work the counter. A pretty girl greeting customers is a good thing. Morgan Jones is here, too, he's Duane's father and Noah's uncle. Tyreese's sister Sasha shows up with her boyfriend Bob. Carl's father and almost-stepmom bring his little sister Judith. Rick Grimes and Michonne were my first customers on their first date a year ago. Rick is sheriff of a small town near Atlanta, widowed when his wife died in childbirth. That's so rare now, but a blood clot moved through Lori's heart and suddenly she was gone.
Eugene approaches and asks to talk privately so I take him back to the cubbyhole where I do paperwork. Eugene is socially awkward but not shy. He jumps right in.
"I am aware that this is a couples' world. Everyone is paired off except me. I feel the need for female companionship and have come to you for advice."
"I'm no expert on women, Eugene. Other team, remember?"
"That's one of the reasons I chose you. You have a successful relationship with Daryl and though he is of the same gender I believe it qualifies you to assist me. I present no threat to your interests so you have no reason to sabotage my efforts with the fairer sex."
Eugene has certainly given it some thought and arrived at a logical conclusion.
"I'd be happy to help but I'm not sure I can. You're right that everyone seems to be with someone. I don't think I know any single girls right now." I think about the crowd out front. "It's too bad Tara is gay, she likes you."
Eugene nods. "At one time I regretted she is a lesbian but have decided it's for the best. It would be a mistake to introduce a sexual element to our friendship. What about Beth's sister Maggie?"
"Actually, I think she and Tara are getting close."
"Another lesbian. My luck is out. Even Daryl's brother, who is a skunk of the widest stripe, has acquired in Andrea a mate better than he deserves."
"They might deserve each other. Andrea has a side you don't know about. She had a thing with Rick's former partner Shane before he was killed in the line of duty. I understand Shane was a little twisted. And then she took up with that Blake guy who was leader of the Woodbury Cult. He's dead now, too."
"I appreciate you informing me of Andrea's Black Widow traits. I no longer envy Merle. I thought Andrea was a civil rights lawyer."
"She is but she's attracted to bad boys. Merle called her 'Sugar Tits' the first time they met."
"That is disrespectful."
"But Andrea kind of liked it. She was torn between filing a suit or sleeping with him and you know what happened."
"Her hormones won."
"What about Abraham? He's your friend, maybe he could set you up."
"He tried. He introduced me to a fellow officer, Dawn Lerner. Our date did not go well."
"What happened?"
"She has anger issues and enjoys physical violence."
"She hit you?!"
"Affirmative."
"Don't be discouraged. The fact that you're open to possibility is a good start. You know, Daryl is 11 years older than me. He had to wait a lot longer than I did. You just haven't met the right one yet. But it could happen any time. Someone might come in for a sign and suddenly there's an opportunity. And I'll keep an eye out here. Someone could come in for pizza that I think would be perfect for you. That's how Daryl and I met."
Eugene looks less glum. Hope seems to have cheered him up. We go back to the others and discover the dancing has started. Daryl doesn't look like he would be a good dancer but he is. He dances with all the women but not close. He saves that for me. I'm glad to see that Eugene has plenty of partners. I hope he can find a partner for the rest of his life.
At home I tell Daryl about my talk with Eugene but he's blowing me at the same time and as much as I like Eugene I forget him and his trouble pretty easily with Daryl's mouth around my cock. Daryl hasn't come yet so when he gets back from the bathroom it's his turn. He stops in the doorway, reaches down and with one hard stroke brings himself to full erection. His squeeze forced the blood down his shaft and the head is huge and red. It looks like a baby's arm holding an apple. That line is usually an exaggeration but for Daryl it's true.
"What do I have to do to get your cock in my mouth?"
Daryl walks to the bed. "Open wide. Real wide."
Afterward Daryl proves he was listening earlier while giving me head. "Maybe Merle can help Eugene find a woman. He fancies himself a matchmaker since getting us together."
Business flourishes. I expand to other locations, get a liquor license and change the signs to include featuring Dixon Ales. We develop a corporate chain and eventually merge and become Dixon Rhee Enterprises. Yes, I got second billing but there are two Dixons plus D is before R alphabetically.
Daryl considers that first sign as money well spent.
A/N: I created an image to give an idea what the pizza sign looks like. It's at the end of the chapter on AO3.
Special thanks to GobsmackApplejack who created labels for Dixon Ales and dialogue between Daryl and Merle to go with them! The link is at the end of the chapter on AO3.
