Chapter Twenty-Three
As a reward for a year of good grades and predominantly acceptable behavior, Sheriff and Mrs. Grimes told the boys that they could go on a two week camping trip. Their escort? None other than Merle Dixon, who since his parole hearing, had managed to keep his hands as clean as his liver.
They set out on a Monday morning, with Rick carrying two weeks worth of canned food on his back, despite the Dixons' insistence that it wouldn't be necessary. Daryl and Merle led the way, armed with a handful of their favorite knives, the crossbow, and a rifle. Shane trailed only a few feet behind Daryl, working hard to match the younger boy's every step, and marveling at just how silently he managed to travel through the thick and endless wood.
Rick, true to form, lagged several yards behind them. He swayed precariously from side to side with each labored stride, clearly struggling with his pack. And the young Grimes had his head so far into the map his father had given him, that he couldn't help but trip over every root and low shrub they passed.
Which went on for about fifteen minutes before Merle finally snapped.
The older Dixon stopped abruptly, turning on his heel and charging up into Rick's face fast enough to make the younger boy jump. He snatched the map out of Rick's hands, balled it up into a crumpled mess and chucked it into the ravine below them. Then, he spat in its wake for emphasis, as water seeped into the delicate fibers and tugged the map into the current.
"What did you do that for?" Rick whined, throwing his hands up in the air.
Merle smirked and shrugged a single shoulder. "Don't need no goddamn map," he hissed, like the word itself offended him.
"But what if we get lost?" Rick asked.
That earned him a hard look from both Dixons, standing shoulder to shoulder and glaring at him like he'd spat on their mother's grave.
"We won't get lost," Shane said, attempting to come to Rick's rescue.
"Long as you got your eyes on my back or Merle's, y'ain't lost," Daryl said, "Dixon boys got the best sense of direction outta anyone in the state of Georgia."
"Damn straight," Merle affirmed, grinning, "Now get your head out of your ass and move your fuckin' feet, city boy. We're burnin' daylight."
"We grew up in the same town!" Rick called as Merle and Daryl resumed their position at the head of the group.
"Keep tellin' yourself that," Merle laughed, flipping Rick the bird over his shoulder.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
They walked for hours. Long enough for Rick to find himself struggling to hold back his complaints, and for Shane to be sweating and panting from the exertion.
When they finally came to a plateau of sorts, the Dixon boys nodded at one another, communicating without words.
"This is it," Daryl announced, to the two teens' palpable relief.
Merle sat on his ass with a perpetual grin on his face and watched Rick and Shane struggle to set up their tent. But when the mess of polyester and sticks finally resembled some sort of dwelling, and the pair went off to sit by the fire Daryl had going, Merle's grin fell into a dubious frown.
"There best be another tent in that pack of yours," Merle growled, moving to join them.
"How could I possibly have fit another tent in there?" Rick snarked, poking at the embers with a stick.
"Kid, there goddamn well better be one. 'Cuz I ain't shackin' up with all three of you horny little shits. No sir," Merle snarled, shaking his head.
"'S a big tent," Daryl sighed, watching Shane from across the fire. The dark-haired jock was gazing at Daryl just as fixedly. His hand was knuckle-deep in a can of peaches from Rick's pack. And as Daryl stared, Shane pulled back his sticky, glistening fingers, and sucked each of them into his mouth, moaning softly at the sickly sweet taste.
"Ain't no tent big enough for four grown ass men!" Merle scoffed. "Or at least, one grown ass man and three pubescent fuckwads."
Neither Daryl not Shane registered Rick's response. Shane plucked out a slice of peach with two fingers, tongued away the syrup dripping from it, and sucked the fruit into his mouth with tensed lips. It was a miracle that Merle and Rick were so immersed in their argument. Because the whimper Daryl let out as he watched Shane chase those last drops of liquid from his chin was far from quiet.
"Oughta hunt," Daryl blurted out loudly, never breaking Shane's gaze.
"Wouldn't mind havin' me some meat tonight," Shane shrewdly replied, setting his can of peaches on the ground.
Merle tilted his head back to gaze up at the sky. Pinks and oranges were already leaking out through the clouds, and any hunter worth his salt knew that tracking in the dark was a fool's errand. He narrowed his eyes at his brother.
"Gonna catch us some dinner, baby brother?" Merle asked, a smirk playing at his lips.
"Might," Daryl replied, shrugging as nonchalantly as he could manage. His eyes bore into Shane's. "Could be somethin' out there worth trackin' down."
"I should go with ya," Shane said slowly, "Ya know, in case ya snag a deer. Need some help carrying it back."
"Plenty I could use help with," Daryl murmured in reply.
"Let's head out then," Shane was quick to say, "while there's still light."
That was all the encouragement Daryl needed. He hopped to his feet. "Yeah," he agreed hastily, "Let's get to it."
Daryl chanced a look over in Rick and Merle's direction, and found the pair of them staring at their exchange with looks of horrified, amused fascination.
When Daryl finally met his big brother's gaze, Merle let out a throaty laugh.
"Christ, brother! We all got dicks here! AIn't no shame in needin' to get laid," Merle teased.
Daryl flushed bright red and scratched at the back of his head sheepishly.
"We'll be back soon," Shane interjected, trying to lessen his partner's embarrassment.
"Half hour," Daryl offered, picking up his bow. He made towards the edge of the trees, expecting Shane to follow.
"Call it an hour," Shane said pointedly, catching Merle's eye. The grin he was biting back broke through like a baseball shattering a glass window, and he had to clamp his teeth down on his lower lip to keep from laughing aloud. "I'll have him back before bedtime."
That earned him a rock chucked straight at his head, which Shane dodged expertly, before grabbing his backpack and hurrying after Daryl into the trees.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
Shane was alone. Whatever light had been left in the sky was obscured the dozens of leaves layering overhead. Left without even a shadow for company, Shane trekked carefully through the brush.
"Daryl?" he called, smile still on his face. This was a game, and he knew it. Cat and mouse. Hunter and the hunted.
"C'mon out and play, baby," Shane tried, sweeping his eyes back and forth across the graying woods. "Led me all the way out here. M'yours, now. Can do whatever ya want with me."
True to form, Shane never heard so much as a footstep before a thin, muscular body connected with him from behind, throwing him off balance and sending him falling to the ground.
"Fuck," Shane managed to gasp, as Daryl nimbly flipped him to his back and pinned him by his arms.
"Yeah. In a bit," Daryl responded, as if the expletive had been a proposal.
Shane groaned and ground himself upwards into the warm, steely rod tenting the front of Daryl's jeans. Taking the bait, Daryl finally leaned forward and kissed him hard. He sucked Shane's lip into his mouth, nibbling until it had flushed a pleasing shade of red.
"Got me where you want me," Shane panted, pulling Daryl even tighter against him. "C'mon."
"Nah," Daryl breathed, the corner of his mouth quirked in amusement, "Ain't quite where I want ya yet."
With that, he hauled Shane up onto his knees, hopping to his feet himself and jerking open his fly in a single, desperately spastic movement.
Shane licked his lips and grinned up at him. "So that's what you want." He pulled Daryl's cock out of his jeans and stroked it slowly. When he ducked his head down to lap at the pearls of precum still clinging to the head, Daryl let out a low moan that made Shane's own member twitch longingly.
"Remember the first time I had your cock in my mouth?" Shane asked him with feigned innocence.
Daryl thread his fingers into Shane's hair, tugging none too gently. "Shane…" he rasped, voice gravelly and thick, "Please…"
"You prove to me you remember," Shane bargained, "And I'll take care of ya."
Daryl let out a long breath through his mouth and brushed his thumb gently over Shane's cheek.
"Was…" Daryl began after a moment's pause, "Was our first night together."
Shane swallowed Daryl's cock down until his nose hit the younger teen's pubes.
"You'd already gotten me off once," Daryl moaned, thrusting his hips as Shane's mouth moved languidly up and down his length. "Didn't gimme a chance to breathe 'fore ya put your mouth on me. Thought...fuck, Shane...felt so good it almost hurt. Thought you were gonna kill me."
Shane used one of his hands to cup and fondle Daryl's balls, rolling them gently in his palm.
"Jesus," Daryl groaned. "It was...it felt...fuck…" Daryl broke off in another desperate moan as Shane swirled his tongue sinfully. "Was too much," Daryl tried again, "Then a minute later, so damn good. Hadn't felt nothin' like it before. Ain't never felt anything like I have since I've been with you."
Shane pulled away from Daryl's with wide, lust-drunk eyes. It took a lot for Daryl to say something so bluntly affectionate. And even the younger teen seemed surprised by his admission.
"I…"
"Turn around," Shane ordered, already moving to pull Daryl's jeans off his body. "Bend forward. Hands on the tree."
Gratefully, Daryl spun on his heels and kicked his jeans off to the side. As soon as he'd bent forward, Shane's mouth pressed up against him from behind.
"Shane!" Daryl cried out, cock twitching in the open air. He was long past the point of rational thought. The older boy's strong tongue swirled against his entrance, darting in and out, readying him.
Daryl bit on his forearm in a heedless attempt to keep quiet. His member jerked and leaked of its own accord, aching to be touched. But then Shane's hand crept around to clasp the base of Daryl's cock, and the younger boy just couldn't take it anymore.
"Get on with it!" he gasped, needy and weak-kneed. A finger slipped into him easily, and he heard Shane chuckle from behind him.
"You need it that bad, Daryl?" Shane murmured, pressing another finger into the slick heat and scissoring gently.
Daryl thrust back against the digits that seemed to be purposefully avoiding his prostate, whining from the back of his throat.
"Ain't gonna last much longer," he gasped. "C'mon. Fuck. C'mon, Shane."
Shane came to his feet, sucking a kiss to Daryl's shoulder. "S'alright. I gotcha."
Daryl shook his head blindly, flustered by how close he was already and too desperate to think. But then Shane was inside him, and everything in Daryl's world righted in a heartbeat.
"Fuck, Daryl…" Shane moaned, pushing into him slow and deep. "Feel so good. So fuckin' good."
Between the bright pleasure of Shane's cock pounding hard against his prostate, and the reassuring pressure of the older boy's arms wrapped around him, mouth pressed to his neck, Daryl could barely stand. His breathing was coming in hot, short bursts, punctuated every few seconds by an echoing moan of Shane's name.
And when Shane groaned into Daryl's neck, "Jesus, m'not gonna last," well, the younger Dixon couldn't have been any more relieved. Shane wrapped a hand around Daryl's cock, hips canting faster and harder.
"Yes," Dary let out in a shuddering breath, "God, I-"
"Gonna come for me Daryl?" Shane whispered in his ear, fist pumping up and down the younger boy's length. "Gonna come all over this tree? Mark it as yours?"
"Shane!" Daryl snapped, jerking his elbow back in an attempt to teach the dark-haired teen a lesson, but abandoning the movement to break into a full-bodied, trembling moan.
"C'mon," Shane whispered, lips centimeters from Daryl's ear. "C'mon baby. Give it to me. I wanna feel you come."
"So close," Daryl whined, "Fuck. M'so close. I'm-"
Shane twisted his palm over the leaking head of Daryl's cock.
"That's right, baby. Let it go, now. Who do you love?"
"Shane!" Daryl moaned, head falling forward to hang down to his chest as he lost control of his body. White spurted in streaks over the rough bark of the tree he was braced against. And Daryl shook helplessly in the other boy's arms, trembling even as Shane grunted once, twice, then spent himself in the pulsing heat of the younger boy's body.
They stayed pressed together for several minutes afterwards, relishing the solitude and shared heat. Eventually, Daryl couldn't help but shiver from the cold. Shane was quick to help him dress and usher him back towards camp.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
Merle and Rick sat in a silence that wasn't quite amicable. Rick picked at his can of beans, while Merle ate a spitroasted squirrel off of a stick. They stared into the fire, enjoying being outside and away from anything resembling civilization.
A sharp, curdling scream broke their comfortable silence. Merle jumped to his feet, ears perked like a dog. Then, it came again, fading in and out like a skipping record. The noise was sandpaper-rough and painfully shrill. Inhuman.
Rick looked to the elder Dixon, face wrinkled in worry. "You think...think that's Daryl and Shane?"
"Known my baby brother his whole damn life, he ain't never made a sound like that," Merle mused, staring off into the pitch-black woods. The light of the fire provided just enough visibility to make out the boundaries of their camp, but certainly no farther. "And if that's the sound he makes when he's fuckin', then I ain't never lettin' him live it down."
The sound rang out once more, impossible to pinpoint.
"Dixon men don't sound nothin' like that," Daryl said, stepping out of the forest with Shane by his side, "in bed or otherwise."
Merle nodded to his brother, but kept the bulk of his attention on the woods around them.
"Could it be an animal?" Rick asked, shivering, but not from the cold.
"No animal I ever heard," Merle muttered. He and Daryl shared a long look.
"Alright, let's get to bed," Daryl said, "Gonna be a long day tomorrow."
The shrieking hadn't quite stopped, but it had grown less frequent. Increasingly lengthy lapses in the rolling high notes that stabbed out from all around them. Splitting the air just often enough that they wouldn't be forgotten. Even from a distance, the Dixon boys knew that whatever was making that sound couldn't be an animal. The timbre was too high, tremor too complex.
The source of the noise was static; and that at least was reassurance enough for Daryl and Merle to appear reasonably calm as they herded their companions into the tent and squelched out both the bonfire and the lantern.
They were four peas in a pod: Merle and Rick bracketing either end of the tent, with Daryl by his brother's side, and Shane by his best friend's. They lay together, listening to the sounds of the forest as it slowly quieted.
The last of the shrieks came just before Daryl closed his eyes. And even though he rationalized it away- told himself that it was machinery or an animal or some composite of the two- Daryl could have sworn that that sharp sound so close to a scream had in fact contained a word.
Help.
But that was crazy. A trick of the imagination. And Daryl Dixon knew better than to let some inkling fear and doubt in the recesses of his mind spoil his normally infallible judgment.
Still, when he slept, he slept fitfully.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
Before Daryl opened his eyes the next morning, he thought maybe he was floating. Out at sea, a majesty which he'd never had the opportunity to see in person, and drifting over soft waves which crested onto softer shores.
His senses came back to him slowly. But Daryl blinked open his ocean-blue eyes and realized that the pleasant rocking was in fact the product of his lying almost entirely on top of Shane's chest. It wasn't exactly an unfamiliar position. In fact, Daryl largely preferred sleeping this way: half on top of Shane's body and tucked under the older boy's arm.
But he never did so with an audience.
Merle was already sitting up, perched in the corner and watching Daryl with an expression that was entirely unreadable. Daryl tried to squirm away from Shane, face heating up in embarrassment. But even in his sleep, Shane clung to him stubbornly, tucking his head into Daryl's neck and lacing their legs together.
Shane wasn't quite awake yet, but he was in that fuzzy realm of almost-consciousness where he couldn't be quite sure where he was or what was happening. So what the older boy did next was almost entirely instinct.
The jock closed the short distance between Daryl and himself and pressed their lips together in a slow kiss. Daryl considered fighting him off, wary of his big brother watching such a display. But Shane's mouth was so warm and inviting that Daryl quickly lost himself in the moment, kissing the older boy back leisurely and forgetting that there were two other people sharing their tent.
"Mornin'," Shane whispered when he finally broke away, voice thick with sleep, "Love you."
Daryl's eyes darted up to his brother's, concerned. But for the dozenth time in the last few months, Merle Dixon surprised him. He was smiling.
Trying not to, of course. Dixon men didn't grin at displays of affection as sappy and sweet as what Merle had just witnessed. But he couldn't help it. His baby brother was in love, and even if the person he was in love with happened to have a cock, it was a load off of the older Dixon's mind to know that there was someone else on this planet who'd do anything to keep Daryl happy and safe.
Daryl deserved that. That, and a hell of a lot more.
"Don't look so damn worried, Darlena," Merle said, quirking an eyebrow at his brother. "And what- y'ain't gonna say it back?"
Daryl's cheeks sprung pink, and he ducked his head meekly. "He knows," Daryl defended.
Shane shifted against him, still not quite awake, but vaguely aware of the conversation. "Still like to hear it," Shane mumbled, pouting in a way that was far too attractive.
"And for that matter, how come ya don't say it to me either?" Rick suddenly piped up. And fuck, Daryl hadn't even realized his adopted brother was awake. Goddamn Shane making his brain a love-drunk mess.
"How's it I ended up stuck with the two neediest guys on the planet?" Daryl carped, trying and failing at sounding annoyed. "Fine. I love the both of y'all. Ya happy?"
"Yes," Rick asserted, at the same time Shane innocently replied, "Could be happier."
Daryl smacked Shane on the back of the head, just as Rick sent an elbow into the small of his back.
"Fuck the both of you!" Shane shouted, sitting up.
"Nah, I don't share," Daryl replied. And all four men laughed aloud at that, because it was probably the first time Daryl had managed to make a joke about his and Shane's sex life, let alone sound downright casual about it. They were still chuckling when Daryl unzipped the tent and stepped outside.
He froze, smile sliding off his face and plummeting to the ground. Merle came up beside him and immediately stopped as well, both Dixons staring out into the camp with deep frowns on their faces and shoulders tense with anxiety.
"...Daryl?" Shane said quietly. Shane drew his hand up Daryl's arm, nervous because they were nervous. Understanding that the Dixons could see something out there that he couldn't, and that whatever they saw had them somewhere in between angry, alarmed, and frightened.
"Someone was in our camp," Daryl whispered without looking at him.
Shivering at the warmest of breezes, it occurred to Daryl that the woods had gone far too quiet.