Daryl groaned. Today was Saturday and for once he actually had the whole day off. He planned on just messing around with his car. It was making a funny ticking sound that sounded suspiciously like the timing belt needed to be changed out. What he really wanted to do was spend it wrapped up with Beth all day, but things had been a bit strained since the barbecue on the forth. It had been the slowest week of his life. She'd texted him but hadn't been free much all week. He'd started out not panicking, but as the week wore on, he was already readying himself for the final blow, when she would just break it off with him. He wasn't looking forward to it, but with the distance between them growing into this yawning chasm it felt inevitable and he was just glad he could prepare for it. He heard an insistent knocking at his door and grumbled. Probably Merle stopping by after a hard night of boozing and drugs. He stalked out of his room, in only a pair of pajama pants since he didn't want to answer the door for his brother in just his boxer shorts. He ripped the door open, grumbling out in a harsh tone, "Dammit Merle. You need to start coming by at a decent hour, it's Saturday and my only day off. I ain't got time to worry about your drunk ass." His eyes landed on Beth standing in front of him, an amused grin on her face, and he sucked in a breath, his stomach plummeting with dread. He didn't once notice the bag of groceries that hung from her hand, or the small bag she had on her back in a little cloth knapsack.
"Well, I guess it's a good thing I'm not Merle." She grinned up at him. "Sorry, if I'm bothering you. I know it's early. I wanted to make you breakfast." She moved her hand holding the bag of groceries. "I know you wanted to see me but I've been really busy this week. I wanted to make it up to you." His face was blank, but his mind was whirling a mile a minute. She wanted to make him breakfast? She was here, at his apartment, with a bag of groceries because she wanted to spend time with him? Wasn't she supposed to be calling it quits? Wasn't she supposed to be saying this wasn't working and that it was getting too serious and that wasn't what she wanted?
Daryl stepped back, letting Beth enter the apartment and move to the kitchen before he really said anything. He couldn't figure her out. Every time he thought he'd figured out her next move, she completely bowled him over and did something unexpected. As he watched her unload a bunch of groceries in his kitchen he suddenly became aware that he was shirtless, exposing his back to her the minute he had to turn around to get dressed. He started to inch his way towards the hall, keeping his back away from her. Luckily she was distracted with the groceries and he made it halfway down the hall and was able to turn and scurry into his room without being seen. He left his door cracked and moved to his dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans. He shucked his pajamas and pulled on his jeans, doing up the button and zipper. He was reaching for a flannel to throw around his shoulders when he heard Beth's voice floating into his room.
"Daryl do you want your eggs scrambled, or over easy, or I could do sunny side up…" His eyes snapped up to the mirror above his dresser and connected with her blue pools where she came to a stop just inside his, now, wide open door. He watched as her eyes zeroed in on his back, her shoulders stiffening, and her teeth gently chewing on her bottom lip. Defeat flooded him, and his head dropped down, unable to see the pity fill her face. He counted his breaths, trying to stay calm as feelings of dread, and anger, and sadness overwhelmed him. Cool fingers glided up his back, fingertips grazing the long scars that covered his back. He stiffened at the contact but never pulled away from her exploring fingers.
"You don't have to tell me, if it's too painful." Her voice whispered behind him. He felt her cheek press against his shoulder blade as her hands wove around his ribs to press against his chest. "But I'm here if you wanna let it out. I'm here to listen." She just stood there, wrapped around him, trying to give him comfort for pains and memories she had no idea about, and it struck Daryl that this was so very Beth. She didn't need to hear his sob story to offer up her comfort, just because he had once been in pain.
"I didn't grow up the same as you. My dad was a mean drunk, and for a while he used up all his anger on my Ma. She eventually found her way to the bottom of a bottle to dull the aches and pains. When she died, Merle was gone already and it was only me left." He heard a quick intake of breath but other than that she stayed silent, listening to him much like he'd listened to her back in the barn. "It started with just his hand, then he moved on to other things, shoes, spatulas, but he used his belt most often. It was always on him. He'd wale on me until I stopped squirming. Sometimes, when he'd run out of money at the bars he'd come home extra pissed because he wasn't completely drunk, and put out cigarettes on my back. I took off when I was fourteen and ain't stepped foot back in that trailer yet. Merle let me tag along with him until I got this place." He could feel moisture on his back and knew Beth was crying for him.
"I'm sorry." He pressed a hand over hers, pressing her warm palm into the skin of his peck. He wanted to tell her she had no reason to be sorry, but she spoke again before the words could pass his lips. "I'm just so angry." It was in that moment he felt her hands tremble against him.
"Why?"
"No one deserves what you got growing up. I'm angry that you had to go through that alone, and I'm angry I wasn't there to make it stop." Her voice was thick and low; a wet angry the squelched with tears as she spat out the words. Her hands gripped him tighter, pulling her body flush with his and he could practically feel her whole being trembling with her anger. That was unexpected. He'd expected sad, pity, sympathy. He hadn't expected white hot rage to fill her tiny frame until she shook with it. He hadn't expected her to want to be there to protect him. No one had ever wanted to protect him before. The image of a fiery, angry little Beth popped into his mind, and for a moment, he didn't doubt she'd have ripped into Will Dixon with a righteous fury that would have made the grown man cry. A bundle of hot, golden sunshine piercing the dark in his crappy life and keeping him from the sting of his daddy's belt. It would have been a sight to behold.
"It ain't your fault."
"I know, but it still isn't right." She sniffed back her hot tears, "And you are such a good person. Why wasn't someone there to protect you? Someone shoulda been there." He didn't want to tell her he'd wondered that question many times himself; as he laid crumpled on the floor quietly sobbing as waves of pain rippled through his little body. As he'd felt his stomach growl as the clawing ache of hungry ripped at his insides because he hadn't had anything to eat that day. And when he got older, as he watched others turn and whisper to each other as he passed by. "I'da laid into him. He'd have never touched you again, if I'd been there." Her voice was soft, succumbing to her tears of anguish at just imagining the pain he had gone through as a child.
"Beth you were just a baby, only a couple years old when I left." He rumbled out. He knew it was the wrong thing to say, but he didn't want her to hurt because she hadn't been able to help him, and he knew that was the kind of person she was. She'd feel every slice of the buckle, every slide of the leather across his back, every scorching hot burn from the cigarettes, just from imagining the torment he'd gone through, and he didn't want that. Not for her. Not for anyone really, but especially not her.
"I don't care!" She knew she wasn't making any sense, but she was too far gone to try. She ached for the little boy he was, and could just imagine him crumpled on the floor, small defenseless body battered and bruised from hands that were supposed to love on him more than anyone else in the world. She ached for the man, that stood before her, doubting his own self worth, because if your own father couldn't love you, how could anyone else in the world?
She loved him. She blinked, only noting she was only mildly surprised at the revelation. Deep down she'd known already. She did. She loved him, and she wanted to show him that. She wanted to show him that he was worthy of love, but not just that. She wanted to show him that he was worthy of her love. She sniffed back her tears, blinking them away to clear her eyes. She may not have been able to give him the love he needed when he was little, but she could now, and she'd be damned if she was going to wait a minute longer. Achingly slowly, and with special care, she moved around him until she was standing in front of him, staring at his face, which was down-turned and hidden mostly by his dark hair. She stretched up, her hand cupping his cheek, and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss.
Daryl stared down at her as she moved around him, bracing himself for any pity he might see. When she faced him he was happy to see that there was none to be found in those crystal blue orbs. Her eyes and the tip of her nose was red from crying, her skin was a bit blotchy and damp from her tears and he honestly couldn't think of a time when she looked more beautiful to him. When she pressed her lips to his, her soft cool hand on his cheek, it took all his will power not to crush her to him. His arms came around her, one hand settling at the base of her neck and the other pressing into her lower back. She felt so good pressed against him, kissing him, comforting him. There wasn't a single soul who he'd told about his past (not even Merle knew the whole truth) except for this amazing woman now nestled in his arms, and she'd responded in the best way he could have ever dreamed. She didn't hold it against him, she didn't judge or pity him, she didn't think less of him because of the unfortunate past he had. She'd been angry for him. Angry at the injustice of it all, and now she was kissing him. Showing him that he could be worthy of happiness; could be worthy of her even if he was a Dixon. Or maybe, especially because he was.
It was a humbling and heady kiss. Just the mere touch of her lips to his had his body responding to hers like they were made for each other. She took both his hands in hers, ending the kiss before tugging him towards his bed. Beth guided him down to sit on his bed. Her hands cupped his cheeks before her lips landed on his, soft and questing. His hands, which had landed limply on his legs, touched her thighs hesitantly before sliding up to her hips. He tugged her in close, not breaking the kiss, and held her like a man afraid. He pulled a bit more, helping to stabilize her, as she slung first one leg over him and then the other. The hem of her summer dress bunched between them and rode up her thighs, exposing more of the creamy skin he loved to touch. His mouth opened under her lips, and his tongue darted out to stroke the fullness of her bottom lip. She groaned and allowed her own tongue to slip out and play with his. Her hands slid back to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his dark brown hair. She was plastered to him frantically, as if she would be pulled away any minute by an unseen force. She felt him pressing against her, hard and insistent, through the cloth of his pants. His hands moved her to rock against him, causing a friction that made both of them groan with pleasure.
He dragged the little sundress up over her head, dropping it to the floor behind her, as his lips came to the skin on her collarbone. He kissed a pathway across her chest, his tongue gliding out to lick at the spot where her bra met her skin. He felt her fingers clench in his hair, with a strangled groan sounding above his head, and knew he would never get tired of hearing that sound come from her. He'd had past flings before, but this, sex had never been like this before. This was something completely special to when he was with Beth, and he knew, deep down, that he never wanted this to end. His fingers inched their way up her back, fumbling a little to undo the clasp of her bra. When he felt the clips release he let the fabric fall away from her skin, dipping his lips down to take a nipple into his mouth. Her head fell back, and she watched him through hooded eyes.
With no warning he twisted, pulling her from a straddling position over him, and laying her down beside him on the bed. He worshiped her skin, kissing pathways from her neck to her belly. He sat up on his knees, watching as she arched and writhed on his bed, panting quickly and staring at him with eyes so hot he felt like he'd burst into flame. He hooked two fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down, sliding them off her legs and letting them fall from his fingers off the side of the bed. She sat up, her fingers eagerly going to the button and fly of his pants, managing to undo both before he caught her hands with a quiet chuckle. "Gotta slow down, baby girl." She looked up at him and whimpered. His hands circled her wrists, gently prying them from his pants and he leaned her back against the bed, placing her hands up by the headboard above her head. "We'll get there, but you gotta slow down." She nodded and watched as he shifted over her, not taking off his pants, until he was between her legs, thighs hugging his hips. His hands started the trek down her lithe form, followed by his lips as he kissed every inch of skin he could reach. His hands landed on the inside of her thighs, pressing them open a little more to make room as he slid lower.
He heard her breath catch in her throat as his fingers slipped into her core, feeling how wet she was for him. He kissed her thigh, his tongue tracing the spot where thigh met pelvis, and Beth arched and groaned. "Daryl…please…" She whined as she moved beneath him. His thumb brushed over her core and she jerked letting out a high pitched cry of pleasure. He couldn't hold back any longer. He leaned forward, tongue drawing circles around the little nub before he ran the flat of it over her. She let out a shriek and gripped the blanket beneath her in tight fists. Her body was practically singing. He alternated between rubbing directly onto the bundle of nerves and circling it. She went from taut to languid, to taut again with each new movement from him. The entire time, he watched her. When he heard her pant out his name it sent a spear of want through him so strong that if he'd need standing he'd have gone to his knees. He couldn't take it any longer and surged up to meet her lips with his. Her hands moved down, pushing his pants from his hips, and with the help of her legs he kicked the constricting clothing off and let it fall tot he floor. With one smooth thrust he was buried inside her, both groaning at the feeling of completion. With slow thrusts he moved in and out of her. He knew, it wasn't going to be long, but it was going to be amazing.
Her hands threaded into his hair as she cried out. Her eyes met his and then she was falling apart underneath him. The sight was amazing, and with a last thrust he followed her over the edge, her name a whisper on his lips.