And that's how the first time happened.
A week passed with little to no communication between the two men. Except for this one snide remark Glenn decided to make one night while everyone was sitting at the campfire.
They had been talking about whether or not they should move the camp to a new location. People argued for and against the move, and they began debating the safety of the camp.
"Walkers haven't even discovered the camp yet," Shane argued. "Until then, I think we should stay. We're set up here. Safe here."
A couple people nodded in agreement.
"Well, I just feel like sitting ducks here," Dale chimed in. "Why do we have to wait to be attacked? Let's keep moving. Always be ahead of them."
Now others were nodding.
"We don't know where the Walkers are," Shane argued. "Anywhere we move we could be moving into a horde of them."
"We should keep moving away from the city," Dale suggested.
"But we're safe here," Shane said.
"Except for rogue hunters, shooting squirrels a little too close to camp," Glenn said, not even really thinking.
Everyone looked at him and he suddenly realized that he had put himself on the spot. He looked around, finally connecting his gaze with Daryl's. The hick was leveling him with a stare that was nothing short of menacing.
There was an awkward silence for a moment and Shane half expected Daryl to lunge across the fire and attack Glenn, because that's how Daryl and Merle both dealt with criticism. But after a moment, everyone just took the comment as an offhand jab at the Dixon brothers and continued with the debate.
Glenn finally released the breath he'd been holding, thankful that the conversation had continued without him needing to explain further. But the searing glare Daryl was sending him, told him that he would have to pay later for the remark.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The second time it had happened, it was more on Glenn's terms.
Glenn recognized that his idea wasn't exactly the brightest, but ever since the first time, he'd begun to have hankerings. Hankerings for freakin' Daryl Dixon. White trash extraordinaire.
And Glenn being Korean was probably a problem for Daryl, since the hick had yet to master the tough intricacies of basic human equality. But then again, the fact that he was Korean was probably equally as bad as him being… I don't know – a man. So, two strikes against him, well, at least as far as wooing Daryl Dixon was concerned.
But then again, the reason they had screwed the first time, was pure, instinctual need. And as far as Glenn knew he still had his basic instincts intact so logicallythey should seek each other again… to satisfy their fundamental needs. It all made sense. It did.
Unfortunately, Daryl Dixon did not function off logic. He lived and breathed his surface emotions. When he was angry, he showed it. When he was annoyed, everyone knew about it. He was hot-tempered and wound tight.
And he was almost always with that damned brother of his.
If Glenn were to ever, ever, ever "make a move" it would have to be when Merle was no where to be seen. Preferably off hunting for a couple days or… you know, dead. But for the past couple of hours, the Dixon brothers had almost always been within each other's eye sight. Whether it was just doing small manual labor or cleaning the array of weaponry they had stockpiled near their tent, they were practically within arms reach.
Glenn knew this because he had decided to camp his little butt right next to Dale's RV, in perfect position to spy on Daryl's movements. He had successfully preoccupied himself by assisting with the lookout duties or by performing little favors for Dale. After all, he didn't want to make it painfully obvious that he was stalking his fuck buddy.
And then a hand suddenly appeared on Glenn's shoulder. "So, Glenn," Dale said, breaking Glenn's devious thoughts.
"Geez," Glenn said, jumping at the unexpected physical contact.
"Sorry," Dale said, realizing that he had scared the younger man, although a smile lay on his lips as he apologized. "Didn't mean to frighten you." He had a fold up chair in his hand and he placed it out next to Glenn's. "Saw you sitting here alone and thought I'd join ya."
Glenn gave a quick smile, welcoming the guest.
Just at that moment, Merle's voice became loud as he laughed harshly about something Daryl said. The brother's exchanged a quick back and forth before calming down again and lowering their voices.
Glenn watched the display, really only watching Daryl. Because there really was something great about the way he laughed. And he only laughed when he was around his brother. And Glenn suddenly realized that he wanted to witness Daryl smile like that, but in response to something he said.
"Glenn?"
Again Dale broke Glenn's wet dream.
"Yeah," Glenn said, trying to recover smoothly.
"Something on your mind?" Dale said, glancing back over to the Dixon brothers, wondering if there was a connection there.
"Nah, no," Glenn said, waving his hand as if he were physically pushing the question away from himself. "Nothing more than usual."
Dale didn't respond for a long moment, but he eventually accepted Glenn's brush off. "Okay," he said, but his tone implied that a later discussion on the topic was going to happen.
But Glenn knew the likelihood of that conversation ever happening was less than the apocalypse just being a really bad nightmare. How would that conversation even start? "So, yeah, Daryl and I…" vulgar hand gestures "you know…"
But on a more serious note, talking about this to someone would probably be a huge release. A huge weight off his shoulders. A time when Glenn could get his thoughts together, get advice, and hopefully have a moment of clarity as in where he could think more logically about what he was getting himself into.
But the risk was too great. If he let the secret out, he would no longer be in complete control of it. And if word ever traveled back to Daryl, it would be his head (probably with an arrow through it). So it seemed the only way Glenn would ever talk about it, would be if Daryl lost in a fight with a Walker, which was a surprisingly grim thought.
By this point, Dale was satisfied with just sitting in comfortable silence, and Glenn had to admit that it was oddly relaxing. It was dusk and the day was cooling off. There was the occasional laugh or faded conversation for background noise. And everything, for the moment, seemed alright.
Hours passed and darkness truly hit, covering the camp site. Small fires popped up. The glow from the flames softly reflecting off of familiar faces. Evening had turned to night with no excitement and Glenn was beginning to think that another day would pass without so much as word between himself and Daryl.
But then an idea formed in his head. And this is the where the whole "not the brightest idea" part comes into play.
Glenn had to wait for the perfect moment, and when it did appear, he quickly (but silently) followed Merle, cutting him off right before he hit the edge of the woods. It had taken hours, but finally Merle had broken from his campsite. He was probably going to piss or scratch his balls in private, who the fuck cares, but he was finally away from Daryl.
"Hey, Merle?" Glenn said, slipping right in front of the larger man.
"What do you want?" Merle asked, not really stopping but brushing past Glenn and continuing into the woods.
"Hey, I didn't want to panic the rest of the group, but I was on lookout and I'm pretty sure I saw movement up on the ridge." This, of course, was a lie.
"Up on the ridge?" Merle seemed both suspicious and annoyed. "How the hell did you see movement that far off?"
"It's hard to see, but I'm fairly sure that there are figures moving out there… I just think someone should go check it out."
"Why the fuck did you think of me?" Merle finally stopped.
"Because you're the best for the job. You won't get freaked out and you're a good hunter. You could kill a couple geeks easy," Glenn said. "And you always have your weapons on you." And it was true; he was carrying an ax with him.
Merle exhaled heavily, very obviously annoyed.
"Please, Merle."
"Alright. Alright," Merle said. "But I'm gonna fucking take a piss first."
And the trap was set. Now on to the second part of his not-so-brilliant-but-seemed-to-be-working-out-okay-enough plan.
However, when he arrived back to camp, an unexpected curve ball was thrown his way. Instead of Daryl sitting alone near his tent, Dale was talking to him. Glenn cursed in his head. Slowly he walked by the conversation the two men were having.
"Just make some quick rounds around the perimeter before everyone turns in for the night. It's probably nothing, but it would make an old man feel a lot better," Dale was saying.
Daryl considered Dale's words, finally wordless agreeing.
"Thanks," Dale said, as Daryl retrieved his crossbow from the severed tree stump he had laid it on.
"Yeah," was Daryl's version of you're welcome.
Dale moved away, traveling back to his RV. He spotted Glenn.
"I'm just having Daryl scope out the perimeter. Just a precautionary thing," he said in passing, going into his trailer.
"Oh, right," Glenn said, nodding.
Could this have ended up more perfect? Not only was Merle out of the picture for the moment, but Daryl was also separated from the camp.
So, thanks Dale. You actually really helped.
So, now he had to figure out how to follow Daryl without getting shot and killed. Easy enough, right?
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
"Fucking shit! Do you have a fucking death wish?" Daryl yelled-whispered at Glenn, who had unceremoniously got caught sneaking up behind Daryl.
"No, I…" And it was at this point that Glenn realized he needed to have legitimate reasons for following Daryl into the woods in the middle of the night.
Daryl, who was still getting over being snuck up on, suddenly burst into quick protests. "No, no, no, no, fuckin' no," he repeated, all too easily putting the pieces together. He put his hand out, like he was going to ward Glenn off if he were to decide to jump him or something.
The first thing that popped into Glenn's head was- why not? But then all of the hundreds of reasons why this was a horrible idea flew through and shattered that question, so he bit back his initial response.
"Just one more time," Glenn finally spat out.
"No," Daryl started. "You're not a habit I want to get into." And Glenn wondered if he had intended that to sound so dirty.
"But—"
"No!" Daryl yelled, advancing on Glenn and getting right in his face. "Shut your mouth chink! And go back to camp." He punctuated his words with a harsh shove.
The Asian stumbled but was shockingly undeterred by the assault. "You have no idea what I went through to get to this point!"
"This point?" Daryl asked.
"To get you alone… away from Merle."
"Oh yeah," Daryl said all smart-alecky. "What have you done?"
"I've been watching you for hours…" Okay, Glenn knew that probably sounded all kinds of creepy, but it just sort of came out. And not being able to clearly see Daryl reaction, Glenn figured he probably had that furrowed eyebrow, confused/angry look on his face. "And I finally concocted this plan to get you and Merle apart, so I sent Merle up on to the ridge because I said I saw something up there, but I really didn't." He ended slightly less confident from when he started because he just now deduced that Daryl might react kind of badly to him sending his brother on a wild goose chase in the middle of the night.
"Man, you've turned into a proper begging bitch haven't you?" Daryl said, actually sounding half amused.
"Call me whatever," Glenn said. "But please, I'm so fucking tired of my hand." He ended slightly desperate.
Daryl didn't answer, but Glenn's eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he could see that Daryl was debating the idea.
"You know this works," Glenn said. "It's a win-win for the both of us, and no one has to know. Ever." He was about to say, and Merle will never know, but he decided to use "no one" instead, because using Merle's name might push a button and he might lose whatever advantage he now had.
A silence settled and Glenn was almost too scared to move. Was he winning this battle? Cause he could really see this going a lot of ways. But if possible he preferred the outcome that had him panting and writhing on the floor.
He wanted to add "please" or "Daryl" but would his words work for or against him right now?
"No," eventually said. It was soft, hardly audible. "No," he confirmed louder this time.
And Glenn felt a sinking, desperate feeling. "Daryl," he said, fucking it all. "Don't kill me." That was his disclaimer.
He took a step forward, and in one swift movement dropped to his knees and started working at Daryl's pants. And after a second or two went by without him getting walloped over the head, Glenn felt pretty secure with his actions. In an impressively smooth movement, he had Daryl out and in his mouth in seconds.
Instantly a pleasured grunt came from Daryl and unintentionally he stumbled back into the trunk of a tree, using it for support.
Glenn smiled, kind of proud of the reaction he ignited from the hick, especially considering this wasn't exactly an action he had mastered.
"Glenn," Daryl breathed out. "Stop," he finished weakly.
But the hardness of Daryl's dick was enough to confirm that he didn't want this to end.
Daryl's hand grabbed onto Glenn's hair and went to pull the Asian away, but Glenn did a quick experiment and swirled his tongue around the tip of Daryl's dick. The same hand that was meant to deter, ended up clawing roughly into Glenn's skull, urging the Asian to do it again.
And when the crossbow finally fell onto the ground next to them, Glenn knew he had gotten Daryl. Finally.
Daryl was hard and Glenn could taste pre-cum.
He pulled away.
"Now," he said, panting slightly. "Will you fuck me?"
"Get up," Daryl ordered, pulling Glenn up as he said the words. He roughly helped Glenn dispose of his pants, yanking the smaller man around so that the Asian was facing the tree.
"You ready?" Daryl asked hoarsely.
Glenn was surprised that the question was even asked, but he answered with a very grateful, "yes."
Luckily Glenn was already completely hard, and he had to admit to himself that it was mostly because of Daryl. Not the situation, but Daryl himself. The way he moaned and his lust-filled expressions were… more than enough to get Glenn yearning. This was very new for him. And he would probably mull over it later, but he found it hard to care at the moment.
Daryl was harder this time when he entered, but it went smoother, due to the fact that they were both so turned on. Glenn almost hugged the tree in front of him, taking in and harboring the impact of every thrust Daryl gave him. He braced his forehead against the trunk and felt the scrap of the bark against his skin. He'd have cuts later. He tried to stifle his moans, but he kept catching himself a little too late. They just seemed to slip out.
This was better than the first time. From start to finish, it felt amazing. Even though he had to resort to his own hand again when he climaxed… as far as fucking went, it was pretty damn fantastic.
When they both finished, Daryl pulled away, leaving Glenn slumped against the tree. When Glenn finally surfaced back to reality, Daryl had dressed and was kneeling on the ground. His hands covered his face. And for a moment, there wasn't anything too strange about it, but then Daryl stayed too still for comfort.
"Daryl…"
Daryl's hand flew from his face and the man grimaced. "Shut up." He suddenly stood. "God!" he spat. "This fucking shit…" he trailed off. He went over to his bow and picked it up and went to walk away.
"Daryl," Glenn tried again.
The hick raised the bow and shoved it into Glenn's face. "I said shut the fuck up! Just shut the fuck up!"
Glenn decidedly obeyed this time, closing his mouth but not looking away.
They kept eye contact for a moment and then Daryl's lip twitched and he spun away, walking deeper into the woods and away from camp.
Glenn bit back a protest, and watched Daryl's figure disappear into the darkness. He considered following but thought better of it.
After all, he had practically manipulated the guy into having sex with him. A fact that could amount to something pretty advantageous for the both of them, but could also end up being the worst fucking mistake of his life.