Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead or any of its characters. However I will take Glenn and Daryl on time share, for the goodness of humanity. Though I cannot guarantee they will be returned in their original shiny packaging when I give them back.

Warnings: See the original chapter for a complete list of warnings. This particular chapter will contain significant adult language, and slash. A LOT OF SLASH. Including man groping, man nakedness, man kisses, and other related man on man sexy bits. Did I mention there was going to be slash in this chapter? Because, yep. There is. A LOT of it.

Authors Note#1: Please read and review. I am open to comments, advice, and constructive criticism. The encouragement and constructive criticism your reviews provide makes the writing process that much more enjoyable!

Rotation – Chapter 17

He had never kissed another guy before. Sure he'd had his flings, and sure he'd enjoyed the hell out of them. But he'd never let himself kiss them. Not once. To him, a kiss had always felt more like an investment then anything else. It was more then something that was simply given. Rather it was something that was felt instead.

Unlike with sex, he had always thought of a kiss as akin to giving away a part of yourself. Because it was giving away something that lay inside, something that went deeper then flesh, deeper then something that was simply visceral or spoken. It meant that it was a risk. An act of trust.

And in that way, it was something that was almost impossible to take back.

He had only cared about two people that way, and his love had been reserved to that number. He supposed that what he was struggling with was that to him, a kiss meant more just some quick, easy fuck. So perhaps that's why he was still warring with shock and disbelief when he realized that he hadn't even thought twice about it when he'd pulled the kid in. In a way, he supposed that it made everything else that had happened in the past few months actually make sense. He'd never considered the kid to be a quick fuck.. Not for one god damned minute. But hell…He hadn't realized…

As expected, kissing a man was expressly different from kissing a woman. A woman was all soft curves and plush lips. Where there was always the lingering sensation of high breasts pillowing against his chest and long, fragrant curls that flowed every which way, getting caught in the dips and hollows as his thumbs traced their supple curves and strong hips. Women left butterfly kisses on his chest and half crescent nail marks painted across his skin, filling his ears with flighty sighs and high pitched moans of pleasure that never failed to make his ears roar.

Kissing Glenn was a total juxtaposition. It was like flipping the world on its head and spinning it three hundred and sixty degrees past insanity. First off the kid was all hands, feet, and long colt-like limbs. It was like making out with a fucking octopus. The kid just couldn't seem to keep still. Reaching, wiggling, and squirming into him like he was trying to climb right into his skin. He decided to take it as a compliment.

Second was that save for his chin, the kid was a mess of rough angles. An undeniable muddle of awkward fits, jamming knees, and large hands that yanked just a bit too hard as they carded through his rain soaked hair. The differences were abrupt, especially when it came down to the pure logistics of the matter. Because the man's lips were full, but thin and there was always the threat of stubble that stood in the place of enduring softness. The grating burn unmistakable as it kindled across the edge of an unsuspecting cheek, or slipped across the venerable length of one's throat with the consistency of a match being set alight.

And third was that actually kissing the man was an experience unique to itself. He had never kissed someone like this, where everything came out so passionate, so honest, and so unashamedly desperate that the sheer intensity of it almost sent him over the edge right then and there.

But in that moment he decided that it was the best kiss he had ever had. And as if to prove his point he corralled the kid back into the seat corner, one strong hand curving around the kid's face as he brought their lips back for another. Gratified for reasons entirely beyond his understanding, when despite letting out a small squeak of surprise, the younger man didn't resist the manhandling. In fact, he seemed dead set on encouraging it.

The kid was going to be the end of him... He just knew it. He already felt like he was about to have a god damn heart attack.

The Korean was practically squirming in his seat now. Obviously trying to keep as low key as possible, still overly conscious of the others resting in the RV and the tents ringed around them. But anyone looking could tell. It all came down to the way that the younger man's eyes had hooded over with lust. His hairline damp with sweat and rain as he panted for air, cheeks flushed an alluring pink as he ducked lower into the seat.

"Fuck." The kid muttered, the slur inexplicably exciting him all the more as the man slammed his head back against the head rest.

He nearly choked on his own god damned spit.

His hands felt rough and abrasive as they coasted across the younger man's skin, making the contrast between his calloused palms and the impossible smoothness of the man's neck feel all but provincial. The passionate shiver he got in return only emboldened him further. And unhindered, he curled his wide palm around the nape of the man's neck, fingers grazing along the very edges of the kid's hairline. Getting distracted in spite of himself by the glossy feel of those thick, black strands. Slipping like butter right through his finger tips.

God, just laying a hand on the man had put him in such a state already!

There was water streaming down from his hairline, welling up in the dips of his shoulder blades before trickling down the hard planes of his chest, chasing each other in trickling rivulets as they slowly melded together. And through those streams the kid began to finger the scars that decorated his skin. Every time those fingers paused, hovering just over top of a particularly nasty looking scar, the air would thicken with a question. But the kid never asked, and he certainly didn't offer.

He wouldn't have blamed him if he had though; he knew what his skin looked like. He was a varying canvas of glancing dents, ragged cuts, gashes that had scarred over completely, and angry looking ones that had never fully healed. They were all trophies of a life that had been lived hard. Like the time when he'd been nicked by a busted beer bottle in that ass backwards bar just south of Gwinnett County, backing up one of his buddies in a bar brawl gone wrong. He had downed a two six of vodka straight up as the bartender had stitched him up right then and there on an overturned, blood smeared bar table. Watching with no small bit of delight as the local Sheriffs dragged out the four assholes that had been stupid enough to start shit in the first place. Or the day where he'd earned the thick, ropy slice that jutted across the length of his right thigh. The consequences of dicking around instead of paying attention during the harvest season of his fourteenth year. He'd been lucky there, the blades of the thresher had only glanced off him, anything more and he would have lost the leg completely.

…But in the end where and how he had gotten them didn't matter, because as the man traced over each and every one, he left a mark on him that was more permanent then even his deepest scar…

Christ…It had been a long time since he had felt a man's hands on his skin.

The fiction of the man's jeans rubbing against the crotch of his pants seemed almost unbearably electric, and he had to bite back a groan as the kid bucked into him. For fucks sake…If the kid kept this up…

"You've done this before, right kid?" He grated tersely, pinning the younger man with a pointed look even as he yanked him clear across the bench. Feeling like he needed to say it aloud despite the fact that he already had the kid's pants halfway down his thighs, his hand's dangerously close to the end zone as his fingers curled around the waist band of the man's boxer briefs.

"Dude, are you serious? Don't call me kid right now, that's just creepy!" The kid squawked. Voice indignant but muffled when he chose that moment to reach over and yank off the kid's shirt, sending the man's hair into a mess of static charged tufts that really had no business being as reldiciously attractive as they actually were.

He couldn't help but laugh at the sight, his chuckles slowly turning into a sound that came out undeniably rich and genuine. Growing and expanding in on itself until it felt like he was laughing with his whole body, rather then simply making a half assed sound in the base of his throat. He buried his head into the man's neck as warmth spread along with it.

He had forgotten this, the closeness, might have even missed it if he was being honest. But still, this.. this was different. He hadn't realized it could be like this. Not for him…It was different from everything else he had ever experienced in a way he couldn't even begin to quantify or even describe. He just knew.

He pulled the kid back down across the length of the seat. Leaning into him and ghosting a long breath across the smooth expanse of his navel, hushing across the skin with the barest hint of his chapped lips as he finally put his mouth to good use.

Because after all, there were some definite pluses to being a Dixon.. Not that they ever kissed and told mind you…

It was gratifying to able to sense the exact moment when the kid stopped breathing. And he chuffed an amused breath into the man's skin, grinning into the hitch where ribs met hip, as the man panted for air above him. He grinned knowingly as the man's hands fell across the breadth of his shoulders, pushing and pulling in kind when his tongue dipped into the kid's navel, laving at the skin he found there as he listened to the kid start to lose it somewhere just above his bobbing head.

"Oh fuck. Shit.. Daryl..." The kid breathed.

He let loose a startled grunt when the kid's nails sunk into his skin. Hissing through his teeth as he bit down on the kid's neck on pure impulse, slamming him back against the seat in retaliation, not at all missing the heated looked the action got him.

So, he liked it that way did he? He could work with that.

Arching up, he raked his fingers through the man's thick, black hair, nipping a path down the man's neck, his hands still fisted around the man's arms, limbs lost and tangled together as they sunk further into the crease of the worn seat cushions. Everything else pretty much devolved from that point on, turning sloppy, wet, frantic, and sweet until he could hardly tell his limbs from Glenn's, or even figure out which way was up as his lips found home against the man's sweat slicked skin.

It was fucking fantastic.

And when the kid took him in hand, it was almost too much. Because the moment those spit slicked hands wrapped around his length, his mind splintered. The sensation stripping him straight down to the naked core, leaving him helpless and gasping for air as his lungs strained to keep up with his heart rate. Leaving him with nothing but the single, rather intriguing thought that caused him to wonder just when the low light straining in through the rain speckled windshield had suddenly gotten so loud…

But even then, he didn't even have a moment to consider the pure absurdity of the thought itself, because it was just then the kid's head dipped low. His generous lips glinting in the near light, the edges curving up into a mischievous smile the moment before his mind sparked off into static…

A/N#1: Please let me know what you think? Reviews and constructive critiquing are love!

A/N#2: One more chapter and this story is done! Also: The little teaser I mentioned in the authors notes last chapter was actually in reference to the fact that in the season 2 teaser you don't actually see Daryl's truck, only him riding on Merle's bike. So I got inspired to add truck problems in the past chapter as a sort of lead in to season two. (*munches on her Glenn and Daryl shaped cookie all by her lonesome*)

"Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." -Dr. Seuss