AN: Here we are, another chapter here.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
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Leaning, Daryl caught Carol's face and kissed her again. The kiss was broken, though, by the fact that Carol couldn't hold back her smile. Daryl didn't mind that many of their kisses seemed to be dissolving with sincere smiles. Carol nuzzled her face against his, brushing him with her nose and cheek in an effort to make whatever connection with him that she could.
No woman had ever nuzzled Daryl that way and, he was sure, if he asked Carol, he would learn that she'd never done that before, either. It was something instinctual that seemed to be driving her to do it. Maybe it was simply something animalistic—biological—something like the electric tingle that ran up Daryl's spine over some of the simple touches that they shared.
They hadn't even seen what each other had picked out, and their laughter and excitement had been over the simple fact that they'd gone and done something that seemed so deliciously taboo together. In the truck, Carol had held Daryl's hand when he didn't need it for driving, and he'd noticed that both of them moved faster up the walkway at her house—practically jogging—as they carried their "discreet" black bags inside.
If they never touched a single item in either bag, the day would have still felt like an absolute success to Daryl.
It had taken a great deal of kisses, a cold drink for each of them, a cigarette on the back porch, and a bathroom break for each of them to even make it to the bedroom with their spoils. Like children dumping out Halloween candy, they'd unceremoniously dumped their bags out on the bed and left their items in a pile for a moment.
Carol's face was pink, and Daryl imagined his was no less tinged with color. There was no need to pretend, though, that it all wasn't at least a little embarrassing.
"We'll never enjoy it if we try to get through all of this," Carol said, marveling at the pile. They'd both spent far more than they'd intended when they went in, but they'd both accepted it as a worthwhile expense.
"I don't think we ought to," Daryl said. "Save it."
"For next time?" Carol asked. There was definite challenge in her voice and her eyebrows raised.
"Always," Daryl responded, half-shrugging his shoulders.
Carol's attempts to playfully harden her features melted away entirely.
"I think—you're right," Carol said. "It's too much for one day."
"Be like eatin' too much candy or some shit," Daryl said. "After a while, we won't even be enjoyin' it, just bein' gluttonous."
"So—how do we do this, then?" Carol asked.
Daryl thought about it a moment. She sat on the bed, near the pillows and across the pile from him, with her knees folded under her. She'd barely bothered with makeup, and her hair was practically wild. Daryl would have been happy to simply sit, like this, and look at her for most of the day.
The pile on the bed was a bit daunting. He couldn't even begin to imagine all the possibilities that they'd chosen between them.
"We each pick a thing," Daryl said. "One thing. For now. We put the rest in the closet or somethin'."
Carol's smile broadened.
"And then we can pick another thing when we want something one night or…"
"Yeah," Daryl agreed quickly, not wanting her to lose her enthusiasm or read even a second's hesitation as him not agreeing with her.
"You want me to put on—one of the costumes?" Carol asked.
Daryl considered it and shook his head.
"Not today," he said.
She laughed.
"Special occasion?" She asked.
Daryl's stomach churned. They'd said they were suspending embarrassment and judgement. They'd talked about it in the truck. If they were going to do this—really let themselves experiment—then that meant that they had to feel like they could really come clean with one another about what they wanted and thought they might want. The very idea of being that open and honest with Carol struck Daryl in two very different ways at once.
On the one hand, Daryl considered himself a very honest and straightforward individual. He had always been that way—honest to a fault, he'd been told. People were put off by it, so some had said, but Daryl found that there were people who appreciated it, too, and he didn't care much about the ones that were afraid of honesty. He was more afraid of what they were hiding than what anyone could come clean about. Still, Daryl hadn't ever been fully open and honest—not about everything and not how they were proposing to try to be honest with each other.
On the other hand, the very idea of being that open and honest with Carol—and of having her dare to be so open and honest with him—made Daryl's whole body feel like it was practically vibrating with energy. It shortened his breath. It made his mind feel a little like he was buzzed. He wanted to share with her on a level that he hadn't ever shared with anyone else. And, more than that, he wanted her to share with him—he wanted her to openly and happily share something like that with him.
But it was still frightening.
"Somethin' like that," Daryl said, surprised at the quality of his voice as he forced himself to consider taking the first steps toward openness. Someone had to do it, and he wanted her to know that he meant what he said. He wasn't going to lead her to share with him just to leave her on a limb. He cleared his throat and gathered his resolve. "I thought—if you liked the idea…"
"Whatever it is, Daryl, I'd like to hear it," Carol offered when Daryl hesitated.
"You like the books," Daryl said. "And—I like 'em. You say you like the whole fantasy of it, right? The whole—I don't know—the whole thing. The idea of a different time or a different world or whatever. You like that."
"I do," Carol said, smiling to herself.
Daryl nodded.
"Then I was thinkin' that—and I might not be no good at it, so keep your expectations pretty damn low, if you don't mind—that we could…maybe act out some of the fantasies that you have."
Carol stared at him for a moment. There was a hint of a smile on her lips. Her head was tipped to the side.
"You want to play pretend with me?" She asked.
"When you say it like that," Daryl offered, "I'd just as soon take my keys an' go."
Carol laughed.
"I don't mean it bad! Please—Daryl—I'm not even teasing. I just—don't know how else to say it."
"Actin' out a fantasy sounds a helluva lot better'n playin' pretend," Daryl said. Carol's cheeks ran a much warmer red than they'd been before and the blush spread even beyond her cheeks.
"You're right," she said. "That does sound nice."
"Better'n pretend," Daryl said, his embarrassment fading a little. "I mean hell—we ain't six."
"I mean—the name for it sounds better," Carol ceded. "But—the whole idea sounds…well it sounds wonderful to me, Daryl."
"Yeah?"
"Fun," Carol said.
"I ain't no damn good at acting," Daryl said.
Carol shrugged her shoulders.
"Maybe I'm not either," she said. "Maybe that's—half the fun? Can I admit that—I like the idea of…playing with you?"
"It just doesn't sound…very masculine," Daryl admitted.
"Daryl—you have my solemn word that…I would never emasculate you. Not on purpose. And if I did? I would—hope that you would correct me. Gently, maybe…but…"
"I wouldn't never hurt you," he assured her. "No matter what the hell you done."
Carol crawled across the bed to him, circling around the pile of items. On her hands and knees, she reached for his face and her cool fingers stroked his cheek. She held his eyes intently with her own beautiful eyes. Daryl's dick jumped in response to the look alone, urging him to accept whatever she was offering because, whatever it was, it must be good. Daryl shifted slightly to accommodate his growing interest. If she noticed, she didn't say anything, and she didn't break the look between them until she glanced at his lips. She rocked forward, catching his lips. She bit him—nipped him, really—and tugged at his lip before she sucked his bottom lip between her lips and ran her tongue over it to soothe the sting of the bite.
Daryl's dick was prepared to sell him out entirely for this, that much was evident.
His heart was pounding, and his lungs were struggling to get air.
Carol meant this kiss, and his brain couldn't explain it any other way. She meant it. Wholeheartedly.
Daryl moaned at her and caught her head, inviting her to keep sharing her offerings with him. She hummed back at him, doing just that. He accepted her tongue and she swept it against his.
"I think you're very much a man," Carol offered when their lips parted. "And I don't think—having fun with me and…fucking me? Could make you less of a man." She sat back on her heels and Daryl felt the heaviness in his chest that he often felt when he got out of bed after having sex with her—the strange sensation that, though she was still there, she was so much farther away than he wanted her to be. "Besides—it's just between us. I swear…I wouldn't even tell Andrea…not if you didn't want me to."
"You keep kissin' me like that, and I'm not sure I give a fuck who you tell."
Carol laughed to herself, but she looked pleased with herself as well. She had every right to be.
"Is that what you want now?"
"The kisses?"
"The—acting?"
"Not right now," Daryl said. "Maybe we—work up to it?"
Carol nodded.
"That's fine," she said. "Then—do you know what you're picking out of the…treasure trunk?"
Daryl laughed to himself.
"Yeah," he admitted. "I do. You?"
Carol examined the pile of "treasures," and Daryl gave her a moment. Finally, she reached out, selected her item from among the pile, and held it up. She almost looked apologetic. Her expression tugged at something inside Daryl while also making him have to swallow back amusement.
"You sad about it?" He asked.
"Is it bad?" She asked.
"How can it be bad?" Daryl asked. "It's a blindfold, Carol, not a grenade."
"I mean—maybe it's not…it's not very exciting, is it?"
"You wanna use it?" Daryl asked. She nodded. "Then, hell, it's fuckin' exciting. What you want to do with it?" She shrugged, clearly working up to sharing her truth in the same way Daryl had felt like he had to work up to it before. "Why you want to use it?" He asked, pressing her to dig a little deeper while she was down there in the pool of buried things.
"In a lot of my books they use blindfolds. They talk about—one sense is lost so the others are heightened. It always sounds like it would feel so good. Like it would be so good."
Daryl bit the inside of his cheek, hard. His dick believed in beating no bones about his opinions, in that moment, and the longing sound of Carol's voice as she explained how good it could all be caught his interest. He certainly had a deep-rooted desire to make her feel good enough to merit that tone of voice.
"I would never dream of covering my eyes around Ed," Carol said. She laughed to herself, nervously. "I didn't even like to sleep around him. But—I feel like I can trust you."
Daryl's stomach tightened. He didn't miss the significance of the words. He felt them, in fact, all the way to the core of himself. A glance at the pile told him there were other "trust" items there. And trust, he knew, was something more valuable than anything else that someone could give you.
"You can trust me," he assured her, knowing that a simple confirmation would mean more than some flowery declaration or something she could worriedly pick apart or doubt.
"Is it too boring?" Carol asked.
Daryl shook his head.
"I'm not bored by anything about you," Daryl said. "Worst part about it is—it'll cover up your eyes. And I like lookin' at your eyes. But…it'll be worth it, too." He cleared his throat. "It'll go good with my pick, too."
Carol was clearly breathing a little heavily and irregularly. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she got her nerves under control and accepted that he wasn't going to reject her desire, or her gift of trust, and he wasn't going to ridicule her.
"What'd you pick?" Carol asked.
"Kinda silly, but…" Daryl held up the package.
"Dice?" She asked.
"They're not just dice, Carol. They're twelve-sided 'Oh! Dice,' Daryl said, reading from the package. "One's got generic locations—like around the house. One's got positions."
"You like that?" Carol asked.
"I never really tried a lot of positions," Daryl said. "And we ain't ventured outside the bedroom. So…I mean…unless you don't like it…"
"I don't know if my house has twelve locations in it…" Carol mused. "But we can certainly give it a try. But if I can't see anything…"
"Then you'll just have to trust me to guide you through the whole damn thing," Daryl said with a smile. He winked at her. "We can play a round before lunch if you're up to it."
Carol smiled at him. She handed him the blindfold.
"You better tie this on me," she said. "We don't want it falling off."
