Chapter Five

Shane woke up, rather unsurprisingly, with a pounding headache. Slightly more shocking was the warm weight of none other than Daryl Dixon draped over his body, and snoring contentedly.

It took some doing to slide out from underneath the smaller boy's body without rousing him. But after tucking the blanket up around Daryl's neck and confirming that he was still fast asleep, Shane tread quietly downstairs.

The house was wrecked, but at the very least, any lingering guests had managed to find their way home overnight.

"You're up early," Shane commented, finding Rick in the kitchen. He was struggling with the coffee machine, and visibly jumped when Shane's voice echoed from behind him.

"Not so loud!" Rick whispered harshly, then gave him a shrill smile.

"Alright, alright," Shane said under his breath, "Ya want some help with that?"

Rick nodded gratefully, and moved to sit at the table while Shane somehow managed to get the aging contraption working. After several minutes of intense concentration, Shane strode over and proudly handed him a mug of coffee, black. He sat with his own beverage, across from Rick, and they both drank in silence.

Rick's eyes darted perpetually between his lap and Shane's face, until Shane finally slammed down his mug with a degree greater force than he intended, and stared his friend down.

"What?" Shane growled. "Spit it out, Grimes."

"You know…ya know my room shares a wall with my folks' room, right?" Rick eventually said quietly.

Shane let out a ragged sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"Did Lori hear?"

"Nah, she was sleepin'. Passed out is more like it. I was too, but then I got up to take a piss. And well…" Rick carefully set down his coffee on the table, struggling for words. "Ya coulda told me."

"I would have…eventually. S'pretty recent, with him."

"Yeah, but I mean, it sounded like- sounded like ya knew what you were doin'-"

"There hasn't been anyone else, if that's what you're gettin' at. Just girls. But you know me: I'm a natural talent."

Rick snorted, "Suppose that's true. But uh…are you sure you know what you're doin' here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the last couple years, I've never seen you stay with a girl for more than a couple of weeks. But Daryl doesn't seem like the type of guy to fuck around just for the hell of it."

"You're sayin' I'm using him," Shane accused.

"I'm sayin' you ought to be careful. How do you think he's gonna react when he finds out he's just another notch on the bedpost for you? Think he's gonna take it well? If he doesn't kill you, he could end up dead himself. Daryl ain't the type of guy you should be screwing around with."

"I'm not-!"

"Oh, come on Shane," Rick interjected, "Been friends with you as long as I can remember. And we both know that when it comes to sex, it's all a game for you. A competition to see how long it takes for you to wear a girl down and get into her pants. And I get that Daryl bein'…how he is…probably made it better, right? But m'askin' you, what happens when he figures it out?"

"There ain't nothin' to figure out, Rick," Shane growled. "Is that really all ya think of me?"

"I'm worried, alright? I can't pretend I'm not. If not for your sake, for his."

"Man, ya don't get it."

"Then explain it to me," Rick beseeched him.

"For fuck's sake, Grimes. Things with Daryl…me and him…Jesus, did ya ever think that the reason I didn't stick with any of those girls might have been 'cuz they weren't what I wanted?"

Rick stared at him blankly for a beat, "So you're uh…gay?"

"No! More like, flexible I guess. What I'm sayin' is, sometimes it's just about sex, and sometimes it ain't. Just 'cuz it hasn't happened for me before, doesn't mean I'm not capable, or whatever. You're talkin' like I'm some lost cause."

"You know that's not what I think," Rick said sincerely, "And I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions. I guess I just didn't expect…it doesn't matter, really. If it's what you want, then I'm good with it."

Shane gazed at him skeptically, "Ya sure?"

"Of course, man. Nothing's changed. Oughta be more careful though, if you're worried about people findin' out."

Shane chuckled lowly, "Yeah, we weren't thinkin' too clearly, were we?"

Rick got up from the table and set his mug down in the sink. "Well, at least one of us is gettin' some."

At that, Shane relaxed into a full-on laugh. "Yeah, and it's always me," he agreed. "Hey, ya got some Asprin?"

TWDTWDTWDTWD

Shane set two mugs of coffee down on the nightstand, and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Daryl's curled up form. He'd noticed, over the past few days, how Daryl always curled into himself when he slept alone. It pained him to see that even in sleep, Daryl's instincts pushed him to make himself smaller, a less obvious target.

Running a hand through Daryl's messy locks, Shane couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt at the initial panic in the boy's eyes when he woke with a start. But it was consolation enough when the sight of Shane at his side had Daryl relaxing into the bed with a sigh.

"What time's it?" he rasped hoarsely.

"Not too late," Shane replied. "Brought ya some coffee. And Asprin."

Daryl gave him a small smile and sat up in bed, taking both offers gratefully.

"You feelin' alright?"

"Just hungover."

"Well, I figured that. How 'bout the rest of you?"

"Which part?"

Shane shot him a devious smirk. "Here?" he asked, ghosting a hand over Daryl's abdomen and grinning when taut muscles twitched from the slight caress.

"N-not. Not so bad," Daryl stuttered.

"And what about here?" Shane whispered, daintily picking up Daryl's injured hand and running his lips across the knuckles.

"S'healin'. I think."

"How 'bout here?" Shane asked him, trailing his fingertips from the crest of Daryl's yellowing eye to the crook of his neck, then scratching gently at the sensitive skin.

"It's…it's…" Daryl muttered brokenly, watching Shane's hand venture slowly down his body.

"And here?" Shane murmured, gently massaging the growing bulge hidden just under the covers, and relishing the look of helpless arousal Daryl shot him when he wrapped his fingers around the swollen length.

"Yeah, you're doin' much better," Shane praised, stroking him loosely before dropping his hand from Daryl's body altogether.

"Shane…" came the following whimper.

"I know, man. Gotta hold on 'til we get back to yours, though. Rick's got people comin' over to clean, and I think you and me could use a bit more privacy."

Daryl huffed out a breath in frustration and began to pull on his discarded outfit from the night before.

"Tease."

TWDTWDTWDTWD

They walked through the front door, and Shane immediately began to shed clothing. His shoes were toed off and shoved into the corner. Then his shirt, pulled over his head and deposited on the floor. Then his jeans, which he skimmed out of and kicked towards Daryl's room. It was only when he reached the door to the bathroom that he turned back around, not the least bit surprised to find Daryl trailing slowly behind him, fully clothed and looking uncertain.

"You'll feel better once you've had a shower," Shane told him, leading Daryl by his belt-loops into the bathroom.

The younger boy appeared skittish, for a moment. But then he began to slowly unbutton his shirt, and Shane helped by wrenching his jeans off of Daryl's body. Shane herded Daryl into the shower, pulling them chest to chest under the spray and groaning when the hot water hit his tired body.

Daryl grabbed the soup and began to haphazardly run it over his body. And Shane took a step back and smiled at him knowingly.

"What?" Daryl spat, exasperated.

"Y'ain't gonna make a show of it?" Shane asked innocently, and Daryl's face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Quit it, Shane," he muttered, but his soapy hands slowed down incrementally.

"You're takin' all the art out of it," Shane murmured, "If you're not gonna do it properly, you oughta let me take over for you. Body like yours deserves someone who'll take their time."

Daryl froze under his gaze and shivered visibly. "Don'…don't say stuff like that."

"Why not? It's the truth," Shane said softly, slowly taking the soap from Daryl and lathering his hands. He gently grazed his slick fingers over Daryl's torso, massaging his shoulders and carefully flicking his fingertips over the boy's nipples until he trembled.

There was a sharp intake of breath as Shane went to his knees, and a gasp when dull fingernails traced the bundle of nerves on either hip, hot lips following their path. Daryl's cock was standing straight and proud; bobbing every so often, when Shane's ministrations became too much. But Shane ignored the object that demanded his attention, instead running soapy hands down each of Daryl's legs, and massaging the sore muscles.

When he stood back up, Daryl was flushed all the way down to his chest, and struggling to control his breathing.

Shane watched him carefully before softly asking, "Turn around."

It wasn't hard to spot the immediate reluctance. It was clear in the way Daryl's body went rigid and hard, face shutting down like a door slamming shut in Shane's face.

So Shane moved forward until they were skin to skin, and ran his fingers up and down Daryl's sides. "I want all of you," Shane told him. And after an indecisive pause, Daryl allowed the older boy to spin him around so that he was facing the wall.

Rather than immediately go to touch Daryl's back, Shane pressed them fully together, and snaked his hands around to Daryl's chest. He kissed and nipped along Daryl's neck, murmuring into his ear, "That's not so bad, is it?"

And when Daryl failed to respond, still holding himself far too still for Shane's liking, the older boy moved to grasp his still-hard cock, stroking slowly with hands soapy and slick. Daryl's head fell back with a moan, and Shane could feel the tension evaporating from him. With his free hand, he pinched at Daryl's nipples, pet the smattering of hair across Daryl's chest, and the younger boy couldn't seem to keep his head off of Shane's broad shoulder.

Before either of them realized it was happening, Shane's hips were moving right along with Daryl's. He ground himself slowly into the perfect mounds of Daryl's ass, while the boy bucked into his fist, softly moaning with every movement. They were both panting harshly, slim hips picking up speed in desperation.

But then Shane's hands dropped from Daryl's body and he took a half-step back, pressing his forehead to the base of Daryl's neck. "Not yet," he panted, fighting for control.

With Daryl still huffing with want, Shane began to clean the boy's scarred back. They could both feel how his trembling worsened each time Shane grazed over an old scar, but Daryl didn't try to escape, and Shane did not relent. The younger Dixon managed to tolerate the touch, understanding that it was necessary. But he couldn't hide his sigh of relief when Shane's hands continued further south to knead at his glutes.

"C'mon," Shane said, "Water's getting cold."

He pushed Daryl in front of him into the bedroom, kicking the door shut hastily. Shane came up behind Daryl before the younger boy had a chance to turn, wrapping his arms around him reassuringly and rubbing his nose against his neck.

"Tell me what you want," Shane rumbled, then gasped in surprise when Daryl broke his hold and forced him onto the bed. He met Daryl's eyes, and found a hesitant fire there. Dominance desperate to be unleashed. So Shane placed his hands complacently behind his back, propping himself up on the bed and giving Daryl free reign over his body.

"Stay still," Daryl growled, and Shane nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in his throat. He'd never been ordered around in bed before. Not once, aside from that fleeting moment with Daryl a few days before. But this was different, so deliberate. And Shane could feel the way his cock was twitching and leaking in anticipation.

Daryl pushed at his shoulder until Shane fell to his elbows, and stood between the jock's splayed legs. "Still," Daryl reminded him with a sharp look, before taking Shane's length in hand without the least bit of hesitation.

Daryl stroked him loosely, and Shane had to fight not to buck up into the teasing grasp. Instead, he groaned out his frustration, moaning anew when Daryl's free hand went to his balls, rolling and fondling them with an air of fascination.

Shane lay frozen as Daryl explored his body, curiously running his calloused hands over every inch of skin he could reach. And Shane took it all, fisting his hands into the sheets and panting harshly, but never once moving to touch Daryl in return.

All at once, Shane was being pulled to his feet and Daryl's mouth was melded to his. Shane pushed him back into the dresser and thrust his tongue into the younger boy's mouth, just as Daryl's free hand went fumbling for the lube. He shoved it into Shane's hand and made to head back towards the bed, but Shane pinned him where he was, spinning Daryl around so they both faced the mirror and mouthing at the back of his neck.

"I want you like this," Shane growled, "I want you to see. Fuck, say yes."

And as soon as Daryl gave that slight nod of consent, Shane's slick fingers were swirling at his entrance, then slipping inside as his free hand encompassed Daryl's cock.

"Fuck, fuck," Daryl panted, once Shane managed to find that little bundle of nerves they both were so fond of. He ground himself into Daryl's damp body, and the boy responded in full, catching on to Shane's rhythm and groaning loudly.

Each twist of Shane's wrist had Daryl leaking onto his hand. And the relentless massage of his fingers had the younger boy bucking backwards into Shane's body, making them both moan at the added friction.

Shane caught Daryl's eye in the mirror, and rewarded him with a particularly hard thrust of his fingers. He memorized the look on Daryl's face in that moment, the way his lips formed a perfect ring, and his eyebrows shot up in blissful surprise. "Shane."

"That's it, Daryl. You're so good," Shane groaned. Their pace picked up and both of them were panting harshly. "You like that? C'mon, tell me you want it, tell me…"

"Shane, fuck, fuck," Daryl panted, bucking back to meet Shane's fingers, then forward to fuck into his fist. "Harder. Do it harder."

Shane groaned deep in his chest and gnawed at Daryl's shoulder. "Yeah? You want it harder? That what you want?" He twisted his palm rapidly over the head, and Daryl's body arched and shook.

"Shane, please!"

"Christ, Daryl. You're so fuckin' hot," Shane muttered as he released his grip on the boy's cock to snake a hand up and across Daryl's chest and grasp him by the opposite shoulder. With his newfound hold on Daryl's body, Shane began to thrust his fingers hard and fast.

"Fuck, fuckin' hell, aw fuck," Daryl moaned. Shane's hips were moving at rapid speed against him, and each movement had the dresser shaking and creaking. The older boy kicked at the inside of Daryl's leg, forcing him to spread himself wider and give Shane better access.

"You close, Daryl?" Shane murmured in his ear, and the boy shivered violently, panting open-mouthed and watching Shane watch him through the mirror. Shane wasn't paying his cock any mind, and Daryl knew that if he tried to spare a hand for the cause he'd lose his balance, but it was clearer with every thrust that he was going to come regardless.

"Yeah," Daryl moaned, "Fuck, I'm gonna- I think I'm gonna-"

"That's it, that's it. Fuck, Daryl."

"Oh, God. Fuck, I…fuck!"

And with that, Daryl cock erupted untouched, streaking the dresser with white as he shuddered and moaned. He could feel the splash of wet warmth at his back when Shane followed him soon after, groaning his name into the space between his shoulder blades.

Daryl was shaking all over. And just as his legs began to give way, two strong arms wrapped around him from behind, and corralled him over to the bed, where they both collapsed contentedly.

They dozed, for some time. And the sun was low in the sky when the slam of a truck door startled Daryl awake, and immediately onto his feet.

Suddenly, the younger Dixon was pulling on clothing faster than his hands could manage, and throwing Shane's clothes at the bed. "Shane, get dressed! Now!"

"Daryl, what's wrong?" Shane asked slowly, buttoning his jeans and going for his shirt next.

"You need to get out of here," Daryl said, expressionless.

"Man, what are you talkin' about? I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes you fucking are, Shane. I don't want you here," Daryl growled. He was fumbling through the house, tidying as he went and flipping off lights, with Shane on his tail.

"Daryl, what's-?"

"What the hell don't you understand about it, Shane!? Huh? I don't want you! I'm real glad you had fun gettin' me off all weekend, but I'm better now, and I'm tellin' you to fucking go," Daryl spat, spinning around to face him.

"Daryl, what are you doing?"

"I swear to god, Shane. If you don't get out of here right fucking now, come tomorrow, everyone at school's gonna know ya like suckin' cock in your spare time. This," Daryl snarled, motioning between the two of them, "It meant nothing. I fuckin' used you s'what I did. And now I want you gone. So just fuckin' go, already!"

Somehow, Shane found himself standing at the back door, and Daryl shoved his keys into his hand. But still, he hesitated, watching Daryl closely.

"What the fuck are you waitin' for?" Daryl shouted, getting in his face. "Y'ain't wanted here. Just go!"

The front door slammed, and that's when Shane saw the flutter of panic behind Daryl's eyes, hidden beneath the veil of anger and disgust. It was brief, but it was there. And then, Shane understood just who had arrived at the Dixon household moments ago.

"Fuck that, Daryl. I'm not leavin' you with him—"

There was the thud of impact, then the sting, and then the sharp stab of pain from the already-injured side of Shane's face. One hand went to his eye in shock. Shane didn't much remember Daryl pulling back to draw, but the punch didn't hurt nearly as much as the vacant expression on Daryl's face. Before he could gather himself, Daryl had shoved him through the door and out into the cold.

"Fuck off, Shane," Daryl growled, slamming the door shut in his face.

Numbly, Shane ambled over to his car and sat down behind the wheel. His key turned in the ignition, and he began to back out of the driveway. Over the rumble of the engine, Shane thought he heard a crash from inside, followed by a scream.