AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Daryl stood smoking out of the window when Carol came out of the bathroom.

Eventually they'd be wanted to work. They'd need to grab some breakfast. But, for now, it was still early enough that nobody would be beating down their door. They might even give them something of a grace period given that Carol was expecting and Daryl was the leader's brother—and he'd already put in twice as much work as he'd seen a couple of people put in.

At any rate, he'd tell them just now to go and fuck themselves if they came beating on the door.

Carol was every bit as naked as Daryl was when she came out the bathroom. If his body hadn't been spent from earlier efforts, he might have shown her his interest in trying again—maybe even redeeming himself.

She started to get dressed. She looked a little like her feelings were shattered, and Daryl could somewhat understand the sentiment.

"I didn't expect it to be the best in the world," he offered. "I mean—I didn't say it would be and I kinda knew it wasn't gonna be that good. Hell—I won't lie and I'm not too proud to admit that my experience is pretty damn limited. But I never expected it to be so damn bad that'cha damn near run outta the room an' come back lookin' like you been cryin'." Daryl's throat felt restricted and he cleared it. "Were you…cryin'?"

"Hormones," Carol breathed out.

"Holy shit," Daryl mused. "Ain't that some shit? So damn bad I made you cry."

He didn't admit that it almost made him want to cry. He'd never expected to be some kind of sex god—and certainly the limited experience he'd had in the past hadn't really left him with any illusions of grandeur, but he'd almost dreamed that he'd be somehow magically be good for Carol. He'd somehow be magically good when it really mattered to him.

"No!" Carol practically barked at him. "No—no! It wasn't that. It wasn't you! Daryl you're…"

She stopped what she was doing. She was wearing a shirt, and panties, but she hadn't yet gone through the effort of wrestling her way into pants. Wrestling into the panties had been effort enough. Instead of dressing, she walked around the bed and met Daryl even as he snubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray.

"Don't do me no favors by lyin' to me, OK?" Daryl offered.

"Are you angry with me?" Carol asked.

Daryl gritted his teeth against his feelings. Of all the emotions that he felt at the moment, anger seemed to be the one that was most acceptable.

"You ain't that damn good, neither!" He barked at her. He immediately wanted to take it back. He wanted to take it all back.

Carol stared at him, mouth open, and tears clearly puddled in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Carol breathed out. "I'm sorry that—I wasn't what you wanted me to be. I only offered to—I thought you might think it was better than nothing. That I was better than nothing. I didn't mean to make you angry…"

She turned, probably to attempt to get into pants and shoes so that she could leave the room. Daryl reached out and caught her arm before she could go too far. She turned quickly and looked back at him, wide-eyed. His stomach caught. He understood the expression. She was waiting for more. She was, more than likely, waiting for him to land a hard slap across her face.

That wasn't his intention at all, and he made that as clear to her as he could by letting go of her arm.

"Wait," he said. "I'm mad at me. Not you. And—you ain't done nothin' wrong. Can I just—talk to you a minute? I mean—I'm wide-open here. Naked. Kinda vulnerable."

Carol nodded her head gently, but she did wait.

"What do you need?" Carol asked. "What do you—want?"

"Which question you want answered?" Daryl asked. He lit another cigarette for himself. Carol didn't answer his question. Instead, she proposed one of her own that was unrelated to her previous two and left them drifting somewhere in space and memory.

"Can I?" Carol asked, pointing to the bed. Daryl assumed she wanted to sit and he nodded his head.

"I ain't your boss," Daryl said. "And I didn't mean to get pissed."

"I understand," Carol said. "You're sorry that—you did what you did. With me." She sat on the bed.

It struck Daryl and he laughed to himself.

"What?" He asked.

"You're sorry you…had sex with me," Carol clarified.

"I'm sorry I was so damned bad at it that you ain't had no fuckin' choice but to go an' hide in the damn bathroom while you cried over…over how fuckin' bad I was!" Daryl responded. Carol winced and leaned back a little. "Sorry," Daryl said, checking the volume of his voice. "I just—wanted you to like it."

"I did like it," Carol said, somewhat mournfully. Daryl laughed to himself.

"That don't sound like you liked it," Daryl said.

"Well I did," Carol said. "What do you want me to do, Daryl? To prove I liked it?"

"Not fuckin' cry about it," Daryl offered. "And I don't want you to lie to me, either. I know you didn't like it. I know you didn't come."

"So?" Carol asked.

"So—if you'da liked it…" Daryl offered. "But hell, I didn't give you but like…sixty fuckin' seconds to get from start to finish."

Carol laughed and Daryl was struck by the sound. He didn't know whether to be offended or thankful for the sound of her laughter breaking up some of the tension in the room.

"If I'm not mistaken—it was your first time in a while?" Carol asked.

"First damn time in way longer than I care to mention if I don't want you to lose all respect for me," Daryl admitted. "If we ain't talkin' about—rubbin' one out, myself, now and again, just so my head gets cleared."

Carol stood up. She walked toward Daryl. The way she looked at him made him want to wrap up in her arms. It made him want to go back to bed and ask her to stay, looking at him just that way, for a little while. It made him ache for the afterglow he'd imagined that had simply failed to be.

"It was good," Carol said. "And I'm not lying. I enjoyed it. More than—I've ever enjoyed sex before."

Daryl didn't bother to swallow back his laughter.

"Now I know you fuckin' yankin' me around," he said. "Because if that was the best you ever had then you had some shitty fuckin' sex before."

Daryl saw the expression that crossed Carol's face. He saw the slight shrug of her shoulders as if to say that he wasn't telling her anything that she didn't know. The reality of it dropped like a lead weight in his stomach.

He snubbed out the cigarette and touched her face. She closed her eyes to him and kept them closed. He lamented, for a second, that he'd gotten to spend so little time simply taking her in. He'd memorized parts of her, but he needed more time to memorize more.

Her face, though, he knew well.

"You ain't gonna go cry in the bathroom if I kiss you, are you?" Daryl asked.

The sound that escaped her when she opened her mouth was caught between a laugh and a sob.

"I wish you would," Carol said.

He didn't need to be asked twice. Daryl kissed her like he wanted to kiss her. He kissed her the way that he enjoyed kissing her. And this time, he didn't force the kiss to stop at her lips. He allowed it trail down, and he kissed her chin and her jawbone. He moved to work his way down her neck, and he nibbled his way to her collarbone. He wrapped his arms around her and slipped his hands into the back of her underwear to cup her ass.

She groaned at him. She kissed him back hungrily—not at all like she was disappointed with him. She didn't ask him to stop, and she didn't scold him for search her body with his fingertips while his mouth kissed everywhere the shirt she was wearing allowed him to reach.

He dared to let his hand trail to the front of her underwear. When she didn't call him back or ask him to stop, he let his fingers crawl through the soft curls. She whined and stiffened as he slid his fingers further down. He pulled her to him and he kissed her as his fingers found the slick evidence of her arousal—his own arousal not at all hidden from either of them.

Carol's hand found his, then, and wrapped around his wrist.

"Stop," she breathed out, against his lips. "I can come out of my underwear. I'll turn around. You can—fuck me."

Daryl's heart thundered. He didn't dislike that suggestion at all. He loved the way it sounded on her lips. He loved the way she somewhat growled it out. He absolutely wanted to do it because he felt like she wanted it, but something else was bothering him. Something else thumped around inside his mind.

"I wanna fuck you," he said, not moving more than his face, just enough so that he could hold Carol's eyes with his own. He neither proceeded with touching her nor retreated. She remained still, too, with her fingers wrapped around his wrist. "Shit—I wanna fuck you. But—Carol? I wanna…eat your pussy, too."

Carol blanched. All the blood ran out of her face.

"You can't do that," she said.

Daryl laughed to himself.

"You might be right," he said. "Hell—I ain't never done it before. But—as long as we're…you know. In the spirit of practice? I sure wanna try."

"You can't," Carol repeated.

"Why?" Daryl asked. "I mean—I guess you don't owe me no explanation but—if I can fuck you…and even now I can feel you wet…why? You got some kinda—rule against it?" Carol frowned deeply at him. "Please don't cry again. I'll do anything you want if you don't cry again."

"I'm sorry," Carol breathed out. "I really can't help it…I hate it. I'm sorry."

"I just wanna know," Daryl said. "I know I don't have no right to ask it of you. You don't owe me nothin' and I done took more'n you ever had to give for this whole relationship thing T got you into, but…why?"

"It's the worst part," Carol said. "Of me."

"What?" Daryl asked.

"It's not normal," Carol said.

Daryl furrowed her brows at him.

"What the hell ain't normal?" He asked.

"It's—ugly," Carol said.

"I'm sorry for what the hell I'ma say," Daryl said, "but—it's a pussy, Carol. Looks like a pussy. Same as my dick just looks like a damn dick."

"It doesn't look like a normal one," Carol said. "The lips are…wrong. They're ugly. Too big."

Daryl could feel her tension, and she tightened her fingers around his wrist. He didn't even need to point out to her the awkwardness of their current position. He could literally feel said lips without moving. He barely twitched his finger and the slightest expression of interest trailed over Carol's features.

"I think you're wrong," Daryl said. "But—I'd know for sure if you…give me another look."

"You won't even want to have sex if I do," Carol challenged. "It'll ruin the mood."

"If this shit ain't ruinin' the mood," Daryl offered, "then you grossly underestimatin' my ability to stay hard when I know I'm about to have somethin' I'll enjoy."

She actually smiled—just barely—and Daryl smiled to himself as a congratulations for bringing out the smile on her lips.

"Please?" He repeated.

"You ought to know—it doesn't taste right," Carol said.

"I never tasted pussy before so…gonna be my baseline," Daryl offered.

"Or smell right," Carol said. "And—it'll make you sick."

Daryl pulled his hand free. His heart was pounding because of the way that she was looking at him. She had her eyes locked on him so intently that he thought she might bore a hole right through him. Someone had told her that something was very, very wrong with her pussy and Daryl had a pretty damn good idea who it was. Suddenly, this became about a great deal more than pussy—though he was sure that his brother would have a certain sense of pride in the fact that eating pussy was the hill he'd chosen to die on today.

He sucked his finger, without blinking or pulling his eyes away from Carol.

"Tastes all right to me," he offered. "But—I wouldn't mind a better taste."

Carol faced off with him for a moment before she pushed her panties down and let them drop. When they hit the floor, she stepped out of them and sat down on the side of the bed. Daryl offered her his pillow and she slipped it under her back before she pulled her own pillow under her head. He gave her time to get comfortable.

"You good?" He asked, tugging the blanket down so his knees would have something soft to rest on as he took his chosen position.

"You don't have to do this," Carol offered.

"You might wish I hadn't," Daryl offered with a laugh. "Don't expect nothin'. I don't have a fuckin' clue what I'm doing. But—for the record? It's the nicest pussy I've ever seen."

Daryl didn't bother to tell Carol that he'd seen relatively few. It didn't matter. She shifted around and made herself even more comfortable with his words. Daryl closed his eyes and extended his tongue. First, he let it tentatively explore her. He let himself learn her taste and her smell. He sucked on the labia—the inner ones that Ed had apparently insulted—with the same enthusiasm that he'd used to suck her nipples earlier and, whether it was because they were sensitive or whether it was because his appreciation of them meant something to her, Carol raised her hips at him.

With his hands, he moved her legs to convince her to relax and hook them over his shoulders, and he took his time kissing, sucking, and tasting every inch of her. When he found something she liked, he repeated it until he was quite satisfied to have her squirming and making the kitten sounds he liked while she clawed at the sheets on the bed like she might, somehow, fall off of it.

It was only when he couldn't stand it anymore that he stood up.

"Like this or…?" He asked.

She clearly understood. She seemed a little wobbly—a little shaky—as she chose her own position. On all fours, she backed up to him and Daryl tugged her backward a little more to bring her closer to the edge of the bed. As soon as he sunk into her, he let his instinct take over. He didn't make it as long as he wanted, and he was certain that Carol hadn't come from the sex, but he was pretty sure he'd brought her some satisfaction beforehand.

As soon as he came, he crawled onto the bed and pulled Carol down beside him so that he could fit himself tightly against her back. She seemed to understand what he wanted. Whether or not she wanted the same, she took pity on him, and she let him fit himself against her. She pulled his hand around and kissed it.

"That was amazing," she offered.

The praise made Daryl's stomach twist.

"You were amazing," Daryl offered.

"You don't have to say that," Carol said.

"Wouldn't if it weren't true," Daryl offered. "There—well, there ain't a damn thing wrong with your pussy."

"You don't know how strangely nice that is to hear," Carol offered. "You're really good at…that. At…"

"Eatin' pussy?" Daryl offered.

"It's embarrassing to say it," Carol said.

"Practice sayin' it a couple times," Daryl said. "It'll get less embarrassing."

"Only if you promise to practice doing it," Carol said.

Daryl felt her immediately tense. Of course, he tensed, too. It was an invitation for this to happen again—how many times, he wasn't sure. But it also seemed like Carol hadn't expected for it to escape her lips.

"You can take that back if you want," Daryl said. "We don't have to…not just…just because of what T…"

"We don't have to," Carol said. "But—I want to. If you want to."

Daryl sighed.

"I want to," he said.

"We should go eat breakfast," Carol said. "They'll be expecting us."

Daryl laughed to himself.

"Five minutes," he said. "That's all I'm askin'. Just—stay like this for five minutes. They can wait and, besides, I already eat."