Chapter Seven

Daryl was tempted to shoot himself in the foot when he was paired up with Rick for lab. He'd known as soon as Grimes looked at him that the bastard knew. He had to, from the way he smirked as Daryl trudged over to their shared desk.

"Let's just get on with it, then," Daryl muttered as he sat down, glowering in return. He let Rick take the lead, mixing various chemicals together and noting the reactions. Chemistry hardly ever held Daryl's attention, and today was no different. He was a hands-on type of guy, and following the directions on a page didn't sit too well with him.

It was hardly five minutes before Rick just couldn't contain himself.

"Saw ya limpin', when you came into class this morning," Rick said conversationally.

"Yup," Daryl responded, offering no elaboration whatsoever.

"You and Shane get in another fight?" Rick tried.

"No."

"Right, I thought maybe ya might have."

"We didn't."

"Well then what-?"

"Can you mind your own damn business, Grimes?" Daryl growled, cutting him off.

Rick's eyes widened in shock. "Yeah, sorry. Sorry."

They dissolved into tense silence.

Abruptly, Rick slammed down a beaker with far too much force, the sharp crack echoing throughout the classroom and causing a dozen heads to swivel back to look at them.

"What the fuck Grimes?" Daryl immediately hissed under his breath. The rest of the class turned back towards the board.

"Daryl, Shane didn't…you'd tell me if he…Christ! Shane didn't hurt you, did he?"

"For fuck's sake, I just told you. No."

"Not in a fight. I mean the two of you…did he hurt you when he…Jesus, alright, I know about you guys, okay?" Rick whispered.

Daryl's cheeks lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. "Keep you're fuckin' voice down, Grimes," Daryl snarled. They were speaking to each other so softly already that they had to struggle to listen, but Daryl wasn't willing to take any chances.

"Look, Shane told me, okay? Kind of…overheard you two the night of the party. And I'm fine with it, really. But if Shane's hurting you, you've got to tell me, alright? We can figure it out."

Daryl's hands curled into fists under the table. He tapped his heel roughly against the ground, trying to materialize his frustration. "I already told you, Grimes. Shane didn't do it. He ain't like that. Now are you gonna drop this or are we gonna have to go outside and work this thing out?"

Rick noticeably stiffened in his chair, turning his body minutely away from Daryl.

"Sorry," Rick whispered, after a brief silence.

"Rick…"

"I really am fine with you two. It's just I know how he can be. And the two of you had been at each other's throats up until recently; you can understand why it'd be an adjustment."

"I swear to God…"

"And I mean, it was kind of a surprise. Seeing as he likes to call himself the king of pussy, and you're…you. And I guess I figured that if he swung like that, it'd be me he'd go after."

There was a sharp intake of breath from his left, and when Rick looked over to Daryl, he saw that the boy was shaking noticeably, hands balled into fists under the desk. He's jealous, Rick realized quite suddenly.

"I'm kidding!" Rick quickly assured him, trying to mend the situation. "I was just kidding, I swear…"

"Do me a favor, Grimes, and stop fuckin' talking," Daryl muttered.

"Shane's not my type, anyways," Rick said with a smirk.

"Jesus Christ…"

"But hey," Rick grasped Daryl by the shoulder, snatching his hand back when Daryl tensed like he'd been struck then shot him a death glare.

"Listen," he tried again, with Daryl's full attention. "I get why you don't want anyone to know about it. It's none of their business; and I'm not going to tell anyone, okay? I promise you that. But if you ever need to talk, I'm here to listen. And I know you probably want to tell me to fuck off again, but I'm serious Daryl. Sometimes you need to talk something out to make sense of it in your head. Don't think that just because what you two have is…private, that you can't ever talk about it. You're allowed to. And you'll probably need to, eventually. Hell, I've talked Shane's ear off about Lori more times than I can count, and me and her ain't hiding nothing. All I'm saying here is you can come to me with it."

"Alright, alright," Daryl mumbled with a sigh. "I get it. And I will…if it comes to that." He looked Rick in the eye. "Thanks."

Rick shot him a smile, "No problem." He turned back towards the desk. "Now correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think this shit was supposed to turn blue."

Daryl snorted unwittingly, and cracked an easy grin. "Don't look at me, man."

TWDTWDTWDTWD

When Daryl traipsed gratefully out of school at the last bell, he found Shane leaning up against his truck. Again.

"Haven't ya learned your damn lesson?" Daryl drawled, throwing his backpack into the truck bed, but his tone was teasing.

"Apparently not," Shane replied smugly.

"Well, s'there any particular reason you're muckin' up my truck, then?"

Shane didn't answer right away, prompting Daryl to turn back around and look him in the eye.

"You eat yet today?" Shane asked him, and got his answer when Daryl's eyes darted right to the ground.

"Well alright then," Shane said in an easy tone, pulling Daryl back from the brink of overwhelming embarrassment, "How about the two of us head back to my place then?"

"Shane, ya don't gotta…"

"Thing is, Rick drove me to school today," Shane said, cutting him off, "So I need the ride anyways. Figure a meal's the least I can do, for you drivin' out of your way and all."

It was a blatant lie, but Shane said it with just enough conviction. Daryl bit at his lip, and then nodded curtly. "Yeah, alright. Get in."

Shane shot him a victorious grin and jumped into the passenger side, nearly impaling himself on an arrow.

"Shit!" he cursed, pulling it out from under him. Daryl's crossbow was propped in between them. "You always keep that bow on ya?" Shane asked, as they drove.

"Pretty much," Daryl replied. He frowned a little at Shane's question, as if the answer was so obvious it didn't merit a response.

"Who taught you?"

"Merle, mostly," Daryl said, "Soon as I was big enough to hold it up properly."

"How old was that?"

"Eight or nine, I guess. With some help, back then. Not after a couple years." Daryl's eyes shot nervously over to Shane, and found the older boy watching him closely. "What?" he spat, uncomfortable with the attention.

"Nothing," Shane immediately said, "I'm just…tryin' to picture what you'd be like, if things were different."

"What things?"

"Your family. I mean if you and me swapped places, back when we were kids, I wonder if I'd be able to take care of myself as well as you do. If you'd be a jock. That sort of thing."

"Ain't no sense in wondering," Daryl said quietly, "Things are the way they are."

Shane's chest tightened painfully, and he could see from the way that Daryl was holding himself that he didn't want the conversation to continue. The jock plastered on a smile, determined to lighten the mood."Guess so. Hard to imagine I'd be any good with a bow."

Daryl snorted a laugh, visibly relaxing. "Judgin' by the one time I let ya come huntin' with me, I'd say no. Probably shoot yourself in the ass and scare away all the game in Georgia."

"Hey now, I wasn't that bad. Saved your ass, didn't I?" Shane teased.

"That ain't how I remember it," Daryl replied, trying to hide his grin.

"Oh, really?" Shane laughed. "And how do you remember it, then?"

"All I did was go for a swim. And seein' me all wet got ya so damn hot, ya near dragged me home. Begged me the whole way to get my clothes off. Ain't my fault you're such a perv."

They pulled up in front of Shane's house. "Yeah well, why don't' ya get that firm little ass of yours inside, and I can show ya how pervy I am."

Daryl blushed plainly, and hopped hastily out of the cab with Shane close on his tail. Once Shane had unlocked the door, Daryl wandered inside. He hadn't been to Shane's house since he was a kid, just once after Shane had moved to a different neighborhood. But he remembered the layout alright, and managed to make his way successfully to Shane's room.

He threw his backpack to the ground and sat down gingerly on Shane's bed, still mindful of his injuries. Daryl looked up through his bangs at Shane. "So what'd you wanna-?"

Shane cut him off with a kiss. It wasn't as hungry as Daryl expected. None of that heat and desperation he'd fallen victim in the weekend they'd spent together. Instead, Shane kissed him slowly. Tenderly. Careful to bookmark every small sigh and slight expression from the younger boy, and on the constant lookout for any sign of discomfort.

"Ain't gonna break," Daryl huffed when Shane pressed their foreheads together.

"S'what you say," Shane drawled, "But I ain't takin' any chances."

"Don't gotta baby me. M'fine," Daryl carped, but there wasn't much force behind it.

"Hey." Shane demanded his attention, grasping him by the jaw. "Fuck that. Ain't gonna have you getting hurt worse 'cuz of me."

Daryl gave him a small nod of understanding, his features easing from their defiant mould.

"Seen your chest," Shane mused, "What about the rest of you?"

Daryl scrunched up his nose in discomfort, then forced his body to relax, and let out a ragged sigh. "Was just my chest and my middle this time, mostly. Stomped on my knee pretty good, s'why I was limpin'."

Shane's jaw was tense, and Daryl could tell he was trying to hold back another outburst. "How 'bout your back?" he instead questioned.

"S'fine," Daryl mumbled.

"And the rest of you?"

"Rest of me's fine. Like I said."

Shane crouched in front of him, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, how 'bout you let me give you a massage then?"

The suggestion clearly took Daryl by surprise. "You wanna…why? That doesn't do nothin' for ya."

"Dixon, if you ain't noticed yet that I get off on touchin' you, then you ain't been payin' too good attention," Shane said with a smirk.

He watched Daryl bite nervously at his lip. "And I bet you've never gotten one before….It'll feel good, alright? I know what I'm doin'- had the guy who does PT for the team work on me a few times. Lemme do the same for you."

Shane moved his hands to Daryl's shirt, and watched his eyes for any sign of panic. When he saw none, he slowly undid the buttons, slipping the thin piece of fabric from Daryl's body and revealing the gory mess beneath. He took Daryl by either elbow and gently pulled him to his feet.

"Let's get these pants off too, yeah?"

Shane knelt in front of him, pulling off Daryl's boots, and socks, then ridding him of the rest of his clothing. And Daryl watched him curiously the whole time, not entirely relaxed, but allowing Shane to do as he wished.

It was only once he was standing completely bare in front of an entirely clothed Shane that Daryl began to feel self-conscious. But the older boy gave him no time to put up a fuss, leading him back towards the bed and urging him to lay on his stomach, with two pillows propped underneath his middle.

Shane hurriedly pulled off his clothing too, mumbling something overtly sexual, and claiming he didn't want to get himself all oily. Daryl watched him pull a small tube out of his duffel bag, then crawl over to him on the bed. It smelled like lavender. He poured some of the liquid into his hands, rubbing them together.

"Don't worry, I'll warm it up for you," Shane told him with a grin, though Daryl continued to watch him warily.

He pressed his hands firmly to Daryl's back and began to slowly work his shoulders. The smaller boy gasped audibly, and his body went tight. Shane knew that being touched like this was still new to him, and didn't take offense at Daryl's hesitance.

"Relax," Shane murmured, "Think you can do that for me?"

He got a grumble muffled by the sheets in response, but Shane's hands never relented. And soon he could feel the tension slowly evaporate from Daryl's body, replaced by soft sighs and softer skin as Shane worked over his sore muscles. Daryl's breathing became slow and steady, matching Shane's, and the older boy worked his way from the younger boy's shoulders all the way down to the pads of his feet, and back again.

Shane paid special attention to Daryl's glutes, working at the orbs of unadulterated muscle with his knuckles and relishing the grateful groan.

"Told you I was good, didn't I?" Shane said with a chuckle. His slick fingers grazed between Daryl's cheeks, just skimming over the pink pucker, and Daryl's body gave an involuntary jolt.

"Fuck," he sighed in one gushing breath. And when Shane couldn't decide whether it was a good sigh or bad, he let his fingers trail lower, rolling and cupping Daryl's balls with one hand.

Daryl let out a soft moan, so Shane's fingers went back to his ass, circling with a single digit.

"Do you want me to?" Shane murmured. Daryl turned his head to the side, not quite able to look Shane in the eye, but freeing his mouth to speak.

"Mm," he grunted in the affirmative, and Shane was more than sure that Daryl was on board just by the drowsy, contented expression on his face. The soft smile made Shane flare with possessive pride. He trusts me enough to let me touch him. He trusts me enough to relax when I touch him.

Daryl's legs parted minutely, either consciously or unconsciously, and with a hand on the boy's lower back, Shane slid a finger inside. It took even less time than usual for Daryl to settle into it. One finger became two, and Daryl was rocking gently back against Shane's hand, panting into the sheets. They were both covered in oil and sweat.

One of Daryl's hands was fisted in the sheets. And as Shane continued to gently massage that spot inside him, his free hand slid to encompass Daryl's, pressing softly. Daryl's eyes blinked open to look at him, and Shane felt him clench around him, letting out a little gasp. Shane rubbed that spot just a little bit harder, and Daryl's hips bucked, grinding his cock into the sheets underneath him with a quiet whine.

"Fuck, you could come just from this, couldn't you?" Shane murmured, watching him.

Daryl squirmed a little beneath him. "Don't want to."

"Yeah? What do you want, then?" Shane asked him, genuinely curious. He pulled his fingers away, sitting back on his heels. "Why don't you flip over, yeah? You can show me what you want."

With a small, disgruntled groan, Daryl complied. He flipped onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows and eyeing Shane's body. The larger boy was shiny with oil, muscles jutting out attractively, and Daryl's cock twitched at the sight. He blushed deeply when he realized Shane had noticed.

"Like what you see, huh?" Shane teased lightly. "That's good. You're supposed to. 'Cuz I think I'm liking you all slicked up even more."

Daryl frowned, eyes darting towards the ground.

"What?" Shane softly questioned.

"Don't see why ya always gotta go on like that. No need to butter me up. I'm here, ain't I?"

Shane moved a little closer to him, grazing his fingers over Daryl's side. "I'm not buttering you up. I say it 'cuz it's true. 'Cuz I like looking at you, and touching you, and I want you to know it."

"I don't look like you," Daryl said pointedly.

Shane barked out a laugh. "Well while I am one sexy motherfucker, I ain't so conceited that I'd want to fuck myself."

Daryl's expression turned sober. "S'not what I meant, Shane. My body's all fucked up. Ya don't gotta pretend to like it."

Shane shook his head with a sigh and abruptly pressed his lips to Daryl's, tongue exploding into the younger boy's mouth and dominating him.

"Stop," Shane demanded when he pulled away for air. Daryl was panting hot breaths against his lips. "If I say I want you, if I say I like how you look, don't question that. You're fuckin' sexy, alright? There ain't no way around it. And I don't wanna have this argument every time I stop to take in the view. Ain't gonna lie to you 'bout this, Daryl. And if you're still not sure, maybe you oughta take into account how fucking hard I am right now, just being near you."

Shane sat straddling Daryl's legs, eyes boring into the younger Dixon's face and watching him gnaw at his lower lip.

"You are pretty hard," Daryl finally murmured, looking up at Shane through the wisps of his hair.

"Damn straight," Shane replied with a grin.

Daryl's fingers twitched at his side, but then he took a steadying breath, and raised a hand to Shane's chest. He left it there, for a moment. Feeling the way Shane's heartbeat picked up when he touched him. It gave Daryl a rush knowing he could have that affect on anyone, especially someone like Shane.

He grazed the palm of his hand slowly down the smooth plane of Shane's stomach, and traced the solid line of his hip bones, which pointed salaciously inwards. When Daryl finally stroked him once, from root to tip, Shane fell forward onto one hand, moaning obscenely.

"Bet I can make you go off first," Daryl said, a dangerous glint in his eye. He stroked Shane with a steady rhythm now, fist twisting over the head with each downward pass.

"Fuck, I don't doubt it," Shane panted. Daryl pulled until Shane was propped over him again.

"Ain't much of a competition if you don't even try," Daryl drawled, more flirtatious than Shane had ever heard him.

He groaned lowly, and slipped a hand between Daryl's legs. But concentrating on the task was so much more difficult with Daryl touching him like he was. Shane resumed his slow fingering, and Daryl threw his head back in a moan.

Every stroke over his prostate had Daryl's cock twitching against his stomach, and leaking visibly.

"Jesus, look how much you want me," Shane crooned. "You get so fuckin' hard for my fingers in your ass, don't you Daryl?"

Daryl brought a second hand to Shane's body, fisting his heavy cock two-handed in retaliation. Shane jumped and moaned, rutting into the firm grasp.

"Not as hard as you get for it," Daryl panted victoriously, "S'like you said. You want me. Can't even help yourself."

Shane's free hand slammed forward by Daryl's head, and Shane groaned from deep in his chest.

"I can't. I really fuckin' can't," Shane huffed. Daryl's head snapped up, kissing him deeply. A sharp nip to Shane's lower lip, and he was trembling. "Fuck, Daryl. I can't stop with you. Can never fuckin' stop."

He pressed his fingers harder into Daryl's body, hoping the smaller boy was as close as he was. One of Daryl's slick hands left his cock, journeying back towards his balls and toying with them briefly, then back farther still. A long digit pressed brazenly at his entrance, and Shane lost it.

"Daryl!" he moaned, hardly able to gasp in a full breath as he exploded between them, shooting thick ropes of come over the younger boy's chest.

Daryl worked him through his orgasm, and mid-way through, Shane had the sense of mind to sit back on his heels and grab Daryl's cock with his now-free hand. He plunged a third finger inside, crooking upwards to prod vigorously at that spot, and simultaneously twisted his fist over Daryl's slicked up cock. With a gasp, Daryl fell over the edge, a moan choked off in his throat as he came all over his own chest.

He collapsed bonelessly next to Shane's equally spent body, sated and exhausted. When Daryl eventually awoke, the sun was waning in the sky, and he was alone in Shane's bed. But he could smell food cooking, so Daryl padded quietly downstairs and into the kitchen.

"What's for dinner?" he asked, and Shane startled noticeably.

"Jesus, you're quiet," Shane breathed, turning around with a grin. "Spaghetti and meatballs. Sound good?"

"Hell yeah," Daryl replied, smiling. He moved over to the counter by the stove, sitting on the cool marble top and watching Shane work. "Can I ask you somethin'?"

"Sure, man. Anything."

Daryl bit nervously at his thumb. "Today…you woulda stopped, right? Even if I hadn't freaked out like I did, you still woulda stopped?"

Shane put down the spoon he was holding and looked up at Daryl. "I…honestly? I don't know. I hope I would have. Sometimes people say shit to me and I just don't hear it. I think you know that. But I did stop. And I'm sorry, Daryl. I really fucking am."

Daryl nodded contemplatively. "Has somethin' like that happened before?"

"Not as bad as today, no. But I mean, can't say there ain't been girls who've put up a fuss only to change their tune with a little persuassion."

"You've been with a lot of them, huh?"

"Girls? Yeah, but I'm clean, if that's what you're worrying about."

Daryl peered at him cautiously. "S'not that. S'just, I ain't a girl."

Shane chuckled briefly. "Yeah, that's kinda what I like about ya."

"But are you sure that this is what…sure that I'm…?"

"What I want? Enough?" Shane finished for him, "Yeah, I'm sure. Pretty fuckin' positive, actually."

Daryl seemed to accept that answer, bobbing his head in understanding. "Okay. Then you've gotta understand something." He waited until Shane was looking him in the eye once more. "What happened today, that can't happen again. You ever try to corner me like that, force me into something again; one of us will get hurt. And it'll be you, Shane. You get me?"

Daryl's voice was soft, none of that aggression and drama he forced into it when he was trying to seem tough. No, this threat was real, as solid as Daryl's fist connecting with his jaw the night before.

"You don't have to worry about that, from me. I swear, okay? I'm not like him." Shane pressed his body to the counter astride Daryl, wary of caging him in. "I gotta ask you, though. If you're serious, then why are you still here? I want you to be. Jesus, I really want you to be. But I can't say I ain't confused."

Daryl gave a small shrug. "These days, you make me feel good a hell of a lot more than ya make me feel bad. That's not worth losin' over one mistake. And anyways, ya may have gone about it the wrong way, but I know you were just worried 'bout me."

Shane huffed out a laugh. "You're right about that. We good, then?"

"Yeah, we're good," Daryl said with a smirk, getting up to set the table. He said the next part so softly that Shane almost didn't hear him at all. "Anyways, s'nice to have someone worrying."