Daryl woke up with his head pounding. He'd had a few drinks the night before, but nothing that should have thrown his head for the loop that it was in right now. He knew, though, if he felt this way that Merle was very likely dead or would soon wish he was. Daryl crawled off his bed and stretched. The springs of the ratty ass mattress had managed to make his back ache almost as much as his head, and he was very grateful that he wasn't expected to be on Hershel Greene's farm that morning for a round of bovine torture.
Daryl got up and shuffled into a pair of pants. He looked around for a clean shirt, but realized that he didn't have many left. Someone was going to have to find a laundry mat and do laundry. He sniffed one of his shirts and decided that there wasn't going to be any re-wearing of these. He dug out one of the last clean ones from his drawer and hoped that Merle got his shit straight with Andrea soon...and that when she came back she wanted to wash some clothes.
Daryl slipped through the kitchen and found his brother passed out on the floor, leaned against the cabinets, and surrounded by several empty and half empty liquor bottles. The smell of spilled liquor saturated the kitchen and Daryl cringed a little. Merle was going to feel like shit when he woke up, and right about now Daryl thought he deserved it.
Daryl found his brother's wallet thrown on the counter next to the refrigerator and dug through it, finally coming up with the phone number of who Daryl hoped was his boss. He took the number and stepped out of the apartment, crossing the hall and knocking on Carol's door.
Carol opened the door and a number of thoughts crossed Daryl's mind all at once. A wonderful smell drifted out of the apartment and his stomach growled. Second to that was the thought that Carol, standing there in a loose t shirt with obviously no bra on, and short cotton shorts, was making it hard for him to breathe. Finally, and this was the thought that made it to his lips, he realized she'd opened the door without asking who it was.
"Fuck ya doin' openin' the door like that? Ya don't know I weren't fuckin' Ed," Daryl said.
Carol wrinkled her brow at him and opened the door a little wider so that he could see her arm that was out of his vision. She was holding the biggest damn kitchen knife he'd ever seen. He swallowed and nodded.
"Got'cha," he said. "Can I use ya phone? I need ta call Merle's boss."
Carol stepped out of the doorway and put the knife on the counter.
"Why can't Merle call his own boss?" Andrea's voice rang out. Daryl looked around for a second, forgetting for a brief instant that she was in the apartment and spotted her sitting on the couch.
"If he's fuckin' breathin' it'll be a miracle," Daryl growled. He walked over to Carol's phone and dialed the number, waiting until someone answered. He didn't know his brother's boss' name, so he just said that he was calling for Merle Dixon. The man on the other line knew who he was talking about, so he explained that Merle was really sick and couldn't make it into work that day, but he'd probably be able to make it in the next. The man on the phone didn't seem pissed, so Daryl was relieved for that. The last damn thing they needed right now was for Merle to lose his job just because he was a dumbass.
When Daryl hung up, he turned around and saw Carol cooking. The heavenly smell made his stomach growl again.
"What'cha makin'?" He asked.
"Pancakes, sausage, scrambled eggs," Carol said. "You hungry?"
Daryl didn't even wait to be asked twice. He took a seat at the little kitchen table and waiting without saying anything. He kept eying Andrea who was eying him.
"Why don't'cha go over there an' talk ta Merle?" Daryl asked, finally. He was tired of the blonde eying him. He had the perfect view to admire Carol's ass in the soft cotton shorts she was wearing, but he didn't feel comfortable doing it with Andrea staring at him like he was going to do something entertaining.
"If Merle Dixon wants to talk to me, I reckon he can find me," Andrea said. "You sure didn't have a hard time sniffing out breakfast when I wasn't there cooking for you."
"Merle ain't sniffin' nothin' right now," Daryl said. "He done drank hisself into a coma, an' it's all 'cause ya had ta run ya ass over here an' start shit."
Daryl turned his eyes a little toward Carol. She was cooking and arranging food on plates, pretending that she didn't hear him and Andrea.
"I didn't start anything," Andrea said. "Let Mary Ann Walsh take care of his hungover ass," she growled. "I don't remember birthing either one of you, so as far as I'm concerned I don't have any responsibilities here."
"Listen, Andrea, Merle weren't tryin' ta fuck Mary Ann Walsh. He was tryin' ta make me fuck Mary Ann," Daryl said. He noticed that Carol looked briefly over her shoulder before turning back to the pan in front of her and he felt his face grow red. "An' I weren't tryin' ta fuck her neither. It was all one damn big misunderstandin'."
"Well that's sweet," Andrea said, sharply, "is that supposed to make me go over there now and take care of him or what? I'm out of practice on what constitutes a Dixon style apology."
Daryl growled. If he believed in hitting women, there would have been more than one occasion when he would have punched Andrea square in the nose. This would be one of them. He had to behave, though, primarily because he did want her to go take care of Merle. He'd rather eat pancakes with Carol alone than have the blonde hovering over him. He also kind of hoped that she'd feel inclined to wash his clothes when she finally went back to Merle, and if he punched her in the nose there was a good chance that she might not want to do that.
"I can't 'pologize for Merle," Daryl said, "an' I ain't sure Merle's ever said he was sorry for a single damn thing in his life, but if ya go an' look at him ya gonna see that even if he don't say it, he's 'bout as sorry as an asshole like him can get."
Carol came over then, carrying two plates. She put one down in front of Daryl and put the other in front of an empty chair.
"Come on over here and get breakfast," she said. "You can go and see how sorry Merle is once you've eaten."
Andrea got up from the couch and took her place at the table across from Daryl. Carol shuffled about a few more minutes bringing her own plate and glasses of juice for everyone. Daryl turned his attention, then, to eating.
"Damn good," he said around bites of sausage and pancakes.
Andrea was watching him again.
"Thank you, Daryl," Carol said.
Daryl half smiled at her, still shoveling in his own food and noticing that she ate a lot slower than he did. He tried to slow his pace to match hers a little better and looked back at Andrea. She was eating slowly and still watching him.
"Stop lookin' at me," he commanded finally. "Can't digest my damn food with ya eyeballs all over me like that. If ya so damn butthurt about it, why don't'cha go an' hit him upside his big damn head an' be done with it. I ain't did nothin'!"
Andrea didn't say anything, but Carol did shoot him a look, so Daryl mumbled an apology and went back to eating. He wasn't sure that he understood women at all, but it appeared that they had some sort of secret alliance. As long as Andrea was there she was protected by Carol in some sort of woman forged force field and anything he said to her was going to make Carol make that disapproving face at him. Daryl didn't like this idea very much. He had a feeling that the disapproving face meant that wasn't thinking about what they did the other night, so he decided to keep his mouth shut and eat his breakfast, trying very hard to ignore the fact that Andrea kept looking at him.
When he'd finished eating, Daryl sat back in his chair watching the two women eat. No one was talking, but they kept looking at each other and he wondered if they had some kind of way of communicating without using words.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Andrea put her fork down and sighed.
"Fine, I guess I'm going to go over there and see if the asshole's ready to apologize," she said.
Daryl looked at her and then looked at Carol. Carol just nodded at Andrea, smiling a little. When Andrea got up and went out the apartment, closing the door, Daryl thought he might explode at the chance. Carol got up from the table and collected up the dishes, walking them over to the sink and dropping them in. Daryl quickly walked up behind her, momentarily unsure of what to do, but driven by the fact that Andrea was finally across the hall. He took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around Carol's waist, pulling her back against him. He was already hard, and the feeling of her flush against him made him even harder. She gasped a little.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
Daryl kissed her neck, nipping at the skin that was showing before her shirt started.
"I been thinkin' 'bout'cha an' she's gone now," he said. He wasn't sure if this was OK, but he'd never wanted anything quite like he wanted this right now and he was willing to do anything that he had to in order to get it.
"Daryl, Andrea is just across the hall talking to Merle," Carol said.
Daryl didn't let go of her waist. Instead he tightened his grip on her a little, pulling her back against him again, grinding into her a little with the contact. For the first time in his life he was considering begging. Merle might say that Dixons didn't beg, but Merle was a dumbass.
"So let her stay over there," Daryl said. Carol moaned a little and it drove him to grind against her again. He was so hard that he could hardly stand it.
"Daryl, she could come right back," Carol argued.
"So we lock the damn door," Daryl growled. He let up on her enough to turn her around and he backed her against the sink, involuntarily grinding again. He looked at her, swallowing hard. She was looking at him, her eyes dancing a little like they had the night before and he took that as a promising sign. He wanted to cross to the door and lock it, but he was afraid if he broke the contact they had right now she'd have the chance to change her mind, assuming that he'd convinced her.
"Daryl, I don't know if this is right," Carol said. She looked away from him for a minute and he felt his stomach sink.
"No, it's right," he said. "It's good." He was desperate. He wasn't even really sure what it was that he was trying to convince her was right, but if she needed it to be right then it would fucking be right, that was all there was to it.
"I'm still married, Daryl," Carol said.
Daryl let his hands slide down her back and over the soft skin of her ass. He buried his fingers into it and she gasped again. He pulled her against him again.
"Ya gettin' divorced," he said. He leaned in, inhaling the smell of her hair. It was the same fruity shampoo and the faint smell of sausage.
"Daryl, technically I'm cheating, I don't know how I feel about that," Carol said.
"Ya ain't cheatin'," Daryl said. "We don't have ta count it 'til ya divorced."
Carol chuckled and tried to push him away. He held tight, his arms going back up around her waist.
"It doesn't work that way," Carol said.
"Sure it does," Daryl said. He pulled away a little and looked at her. He moved his hands and brought her face to his, kissing her lips. She didn't respond for a second, but then she did, her tongue diving into his mouth with the same force as he used. Daryl knew she wanted this as much as he did, but for some reason she was going to make him convince her.
Daryl broke away finally and walked over to the door, turning the lock.
"What if she comes back, Daryl?" Carol asked.
"Then she can either go back across the hall or wait. She's a big damn girl, don't need no babysitter," Daryl said. He crossed back over to where Carol was and caught the bottom of her shirt. He wanted her clothes off. He wanted to taste her again, to feel her next to him. Carol lifted her arms and let him pull the shirt over her head, dropping it on the floor.
Daryl stared at her breasts for a moment and cupped them, pushing them up in his hands. He dipped his head and sucked hard at one of her nipples and she gasped, one of her hands going to his side, her fingers digging into him. Her gasp spurred him on and he moved his mouth to the other, sucking it equally as hard. His teeth scraped against her and she cried out a little, this time bucking into him.
He didn't have any of his clothes off, and he hardly had any of hers off, and he was afraid he was going to lose himself already. He put his hand on her hip and steered her backwards toward her bedroom.
"Daryl, what about the other night?" She asked, stepping backwards as he steered her.
"What about it?" He asked, looking over her to make sure she didn't trip or run into anything.
"What about Mary Ann?" She asked. Daryl pushed her into her room and backed her up to the bed, she sat down on it when the back of it hit the back of her legs. Daryl pulled his shirt off as quickly as he could, afraid that if he took too long she could talk herself out of it. He leaned over her, kissing her again, sucking on her as they pulled apart.
"Fuck about her?" He panted. He started unbuttoning his pants, his mouth going to her neck, biting the skin there.
"She's younger than me…" Carol said. Daryl wrestled out of his pants, thankful that he hadn't worn shoes across the hall. He pushed her back, his mouth going back to suck at her nipple again. She threw her head back and he sucked harder, biting down gently.
"So? Fuck her," he said when he came up for air, panting. His fingers dug into the cotton shorts and he pulled them down with her underwear. Carol was panting now.
"Did you want to?" She asked.
Daryl looked around desperately searching for wherever she might have put the condoms that he'd bought the other night. He saw one of the boxes on her dresser and he crossed the room almost in a run for it.
"What?" He asked, distracted by the wrapper.
He rolled the condom on and crossed the room almost with the same speed as before, pushing Carol back against the mattress where she'd started to sit up a little.
"Did you want to fuck her?" Carol asked.
Daryl brought his lips back to her neck as he stepped in front of her, pulling her legs apart. He ran his hand down her center and she wrapped her legs around him as lined himself up with her. He didn't bother to respond to her, he just pushed himself into her and let himself thrust a few times with all the pent up frustration he'd been harboring since the other night.
Carol wrapped her legs around him and her arms went around his neck. She buried her face against his chest as he tried to move them both so that he wasn't in an awkward position that threatened to send him spilling to the floor. His heart was pounding and once he was he was in better position he continued his assault on her, spurred on by the way she was moaning against him, almost whimpering.
He felt a sensation that he hadn't felt before and as he thrust, he felt Carol tightening around him, over and over, pulsing and she whined against him. It drove him over the edge and he came hard, falling on top of her and panting.
Both of them were still and quiet for a moment, still together, still trying to get their breath. Daryl finally moved, removing his weight from her, but she didn't move at all. She stayed in the same position, still panting and now staring at him. Daryl ran his hand through his hair. Once his breathing slowed a little, he swallowed.
"Ain't wanted ta fuck nobody," he said.
Carol looked at him a moment longer, and then she smiled at him. She narrowed her eyes.
"I think you did…" she said. "I think you wanted to fuck somebody."
Daryl was a little taken aback. He wasn't sure how to respond at first, but she smiled again and she reached a hand up, pulling him down to kiss her. He lingered there a moment, letting their tongues battle together.
"Maybe so," Daryl said when they pulled apart, "but it weren't that girl."
"We've got to get up," Carol said. "I'm supposed to be washing dishes and all of Andrea's clothes are over here except the pajamas she's wearing."
Daryl didn't really want to get up. He wanted to stay there. He thought that, given a few minutes, he might want to do that again. Carol rolled from under him, though and started dressing quickly in her pajamas again. He followed suit and was pulling on his shirt when he noticed her looking around.
"Where's my shirt?" She asked.
"Kitchen," Daryl said. Carol nodded a little, quickly came to him and pressed a quick, light kiss against his lips, and then she slipped out the bedroom. Daryl followed after her and watched as she pulled her shirt on.
"Did you hear her come back? She didn't, did she?" Carol asked.
"Door's locked," Daryl said. "She's probably still over there with Merle."
Daryl felt amazing at that moment. He didn't know if this was what they were supposed to do. He wasn't sure what people normally did after they had sex, but he decided in that moment that he could be perfectly happy having sex with Carol all day long.
"Check on them, will you?" Carol asked.
Daryl sighed. He really couldn't care less what his brother and Andrea were up to, but if it made Carol happy, then he'd do it. He walked to the door and flipped the lock. Swinging the door open he was face to face with Andrea. She was leaning in the doorway and smirking. Beyond her the door to their apartment was open, but Daryl couldn't see Merle.
"Record time, my friends," Andrea said. "Jesus, Daryl, was there any foreplay at all? I know there wasn't time for cuddling. I almost had the door open when you locked it."
Daryl felt his face go red and turned to Carol. She was about five different shades of red as well, pretending to be washing a dish.
Andrea pushed past him and came into the apartment then.
"And you have the whole place smelling like sex, bravo!" She said. She crossed over to where her shit was piled up and started gathering it up. When she stood up, she looked back and forth between them and she snickered. "Both of you stop looking like you just got caught with your hand in the cookie jar. I've known this day was coming since Daryl picked your ass up that morning going on a cross country jog. Now if you'll both excuse me, I've got to go make one man's life a mortal hell."
Andrea crossed the apartment again, her stuff bundled in her arm, and slipped around Daryl.
"Carry on, children," she announced, just before she slipped through the door. "Maybe give foreplay a chance sometime…you'd be surprised at how much better everything runs when you take time to oil the gears properly."
Daryl slammed the door, mortified, and turned to look at Carol who was almost purple in the face and still pretending to wash the same plate.
"I guess the cat's out of the bag," Carol said, after a few minutes. Even though Daryl still wanted to die from embarrassment, he couldn't help but laugh.