A/N: Warning: Sexual fantasizing and masturbation
Chapter 26
Daryl comes back to an empty room after a long day of class, work, studying and problem sets. He has plans to get up early and visit Merle the next day so he doesn't even turn on the room light, just drops his backpack and kicks it further into the room. He uses the small sink light and brushes his teeth and splashes water on his face. When he shucks his jeans he leaves them on the floor. After a pause he pulls off his shirt and drops it on top of his jeans. Normally he wouldn't be so messy, but Glenn has gone home for the night and he doesn't feel any pressure right now to keep his side neat for the sake of someone else. He usually picks up after himself but sometimes you just feel like leaving your clothes on the floor. He turns off the small light and climbs into bed. The cool sheet and scratchy blanket feel good against his skin. This is how he usually sleeps at home - just boxers - but at school he wears a t-shirt and sweats to sleep, his scarred back something he wants to keep private.
The sensation of the blanket catching and tickling at the hair on his legs and chest lights up the nerve endings in his skin. He takes a deep breath and runs his hand over his stomach. Touching himself in bed is also something he doesn't get a chance to do here. Standing wanks in the shower get the job done, but sometimes you just want to relax. He moves his hand down, under the waistband of his boxers. His fingers comb through his pubic hair and then curl around the base of his dick and it twitches in interest.
Actually, jerking off in a bed is something Daryl hasn't done as often as most guys his age. Growing up he couldn't do that in the house. Never knew when his daddy would drunkenly barge into the room looking for Daryl to get him some smokes, some drinks, or for a fight. Sometimes Merle would be there, sleeping off a bender. For personal time Daryl would go into the woods, far off from the house. Shoot his load against a tree or rock or onto the ground where he could kick leaves and dirt to cover it. Once his daddy died and Merle moved into the other room he had some privacy. But still, you never knew when Merle would drunkenly barge in, looking for Daryl to get him some smokes or some drinks. Only when Merle went to prison did Daryl have real alone time in a bedroom, in a bed.
His hand is still in his boxers as he strokes himself and it's starting to hinder his movements so he uses his left hand to throw off the blanket and shove his boxers down his hips. He kicks them off the rest of the way.
He has to get some tissues before he gets too far so he gets up and grabs the box Glenn keeps on his dresser. He's tempted to go over to Glenn's bed and grab his pillow too. Hold it over his face as he wanks so he can smell the kid's scent. Pretend it's Glenn getting him off. But he doesn't. He knows he'd feel guilty about it every time he saw that dark head of hair lying on it. Guilty and probably turned on. And what if he accidentally bites it or drools on it? Glenn might notice. No, it's best if he doesn't.
Still, he thinks about Glenn, like he does every time, what feels like hundreds of times now.
He pictures Glenn curled up by his side, tucked up under his arm, using his hand. Then he imagines Glenn moving over his body, moving down, his face hovering over his dick, looking up at him with those wide eyes. Then licking him playfully. That's how he imagines Glenn; playful, teasing. Always that way, even if he's blowing Daryl.
He imagines Glenn opening his mouth taking him all the way in, bobbing his head up and down in long strokes. Daryl stops to lick his palm and re-grasps his dick, trying to simulate the feeling of a warm, wet mouth. It's not even close, the spit only causing stickiness after a while, rather than a smooth glide - so he wipes his hand off on the sheet and continues stroking slowly.
He thinks about the past month and going out with Glenn and the group. If he squints, he can almost pretend they've been going on dates. He can usually manage to sit next to Glenn when they're in the theater or auditorium. Sometimes their arms bump or brush against each other on the arm rest. It feels kind of pathetic to get so excited over such small contact so he tries not to dwell on those brief touches. They walk back to the dorm together, usually walking Maggie to her dorm first. It's a long walk back from her place so they have a lot of time just the two of them, since Amy's been going to some support group, Carol's with Ed, and Rick and Lori have been working something out. Glenn always carries the conversation. Daryl's glad because otherwise he might say something stupid again. Something that would scare Glenn off, or make him regret inviting him to all these things in the first place.
He imagines holding Glenn's hand on the way back from some show. Stopping whenever he feels like it to pull him into a kiss. In the darkness under a tree or even under the bright light of a street lamp. They'd get back to the room and immediately pull the clothes off each other. Daryl imagines sinking to his knees and taking Glenn into his mouth. He'd suck Glenn off until he came, moaning and pulling at Daryl's hair. Daryl imagines swallowing it down; he imagines that would be the hottest thing, doing that for Glenn, wanting him so bad, wanting to make him feel good.
Daryl can feel himself getting close but he doesn't want to come yet. He's taking his time since he has the room to himself. It really is relaxing, compared to his rushed time in the shower every morning. He doesn't have to keep silent either, muffle his breathing so that no one will figure out what he's doing. Not that he's screaming Glenn's name now. The doors and walls are pretty thin after all. He can, however, moan quietly. Allow his breathing to come naturally, which at this point is pretty ragged. He imagines getting Glenn on the bed. Maybe they'd rub off against each other or - he goes back to his first thoughts where Glenn is blowing him.
His hand speeds up at the image. Glenn's lips stretched over his dick, dark eyelashes fanning over his cheeks as he's working Daryl, eyes wide when he looks up.
Daryl can't keep himself quiet anymore.
"Oh, fuck yeah. Ah...uhhhh...uhhhhhh. Oh, God. Oh, Glenn, yeah. Make me- uh. Make me come!"
His hand moves quickly over himself and he squeezes tighter, holding his dick away from his body and focusing on the building ache. His other hand lets go of the sheet under him. He imagines Glenn bringing his hand up to touch and stroke his balls as he does it to himself.
"Aw...shit. Glenn...So good. Kid, I'm gonna...uhhhhh." Daryl comes hard and long, come spurting into the tissue he scrambles to hold over himself at the last minute.
In his mind Glenn swallows his come and moves up to snuggle into his side.
After he catches his breath and the sex haze lifts, he rolls himself off the bed and walks to the sink, tossing the used tissue into the trash can. He cleans up a bit more with his washcloth, then gets back into bed. He doesn't even bother trying to find his boxers.
He thinks about Glenn at home, eating dinner with his family. Making plans for the weekend. Will his mom try to set Glenn up on another date, maybe with Katie, maybe some new girl? Daryl imagines himself visiting them again, sitting at the dining table, listening to them speaking to each other in Korean.
He drifts to sleep imagining arriving at Glenn's parents' front door to pick Glenn up for a date, Mr. Rhee shaking his hand and Mrs. Rhee giving him a hug, Ella hanging back in the living room but smiling. The last thing he remembers is picturing taking Glenn by the hand and walking out to his truck together.
Thank you to everyone who is still reading this!