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He didn't know how they had wound up in a shouting match all the way out where Daryl had set up his own little camp, far from anyone else on the farm.
There was tension between them that had built up since before Merle had disappeared. First, all the contempt Daryl had for the police that no doubt came from his probably many run-ins with them before the world ended. Then the natural hostility Shane had earned by openly deriding Rick for searching for his brother. And calling Merle a douchebag. Daryl had obviously looked up to the scumbag and anyone talking smack about him, especially now that he was probably torn apart on the side of a road somewhere would be high on his shit-list.
But the worst was the CDC. Both of them were so drunk they could barely stay upright, and Shane had staggered away from his pathetic encounter with Lori full of regret and suppressed rage. He and Daryl had collided in the hallway and it had turned instantly into a shoving match as they both drunkenly misunderstood the accidental contact and took it hostile.
They'd slammed up against each other, talking shit, but neither really willing to throw a punch and do real damage. They'd wound up on the the floor, Daryl on top of him, and he'd felt Shane's hard on through his jeans. Because as much as Shane didn't want to admit it, this stupid redneck turned him on in the basest of ways. He'd wondered if it might have been mutual, in the couple of times he'd thought he'd caught him staring inappropriately when he had his shirt off, and dammit he could have sworn he felt some stiffness against him as well, but he must have read it wrong.
"That why you're such a prick, you fuckin' hard for me ? Fuckin' faggot," Daryl had mocked him, eyes all squinty and full of what looked like disgust. And holy shit, Shane hadn't felt so humiliated since he'd wrestled around with Rick when they were young, and he was sure Rick had noticed how fucking hard he was.
So here they were, ready to throw down because Daryl had just pretty much called him a murderer and a pussy for what Dale had been spreading around about what he did to Otis. Shane was already furious that Daryl had been working his way to becoming Rick's right hand man, making the pain of their nearly ruined friendship even worse.
"You think you woulda done any different? Huh? To save that boy? " Shane was stalking back and forth aggressively as he spoke.
"Think I'da done a lot of things different, " Daryl sneered at him, his body just as tense and ready to move.
"Yeah? Lemme ask you something, you were stuck with a bum leg and a dude too fat to keep up, herd comin' up on you with one bullet left, and the only thing that matters is gettin' those supplies back for Carl, whatta you think you woulda done?"
Daryl narrowed his eyes, glaring at him. Started to pace in agitation, mirroring Shane. Hearing it said like that , he didn't seem to have a quick answer.
Shane stopped with his hands on his hips, squaring his shoulders, glaring back challengingly. "C'mon, man, what do you do? Tell me, you act like it's so easy, go on , big man, tell me."
Daryl was looking at him with more contempt than Shane even thought was possible, but apparently he was at a loss.
"Yeah, that's right. Talked all that shit but you got nothin' to say now."
"Fuck you," Daryl spat at him.
"Yeah, " Shane laughed at that. "Figures that's all you got."
He turned his back to Daryl dismissively and started walking away. It would either make Daryl snap or back down, either way was fine with him right now.
"Least I never fucked my best friend's wife, " he heard him scoff at his retreating back. That caught Shane off guard and the anger that had started to dissipate suddenly made the blood rush to his head. He spun around angrily and began to advance on Daryl.
"What'd you say?"
"You heard me, " Daryl taunted, falling back just a little as Shane advanced on him. " What'd it take you, like, a few weeks? Or were y'all already fuckin' before all this? How many months along is she? "
Lori's pregnancy had already left Shane raw and hearing this sonovabitch mouth off about it sent him over the edge. He shoved Daryl so hard he stumbled and fell, hitting the dirt hard. Apparently he hadn't been expecting an actual attack.
"Rick ain't here to hold me back now, you wanna come at me again ? I'll beat your ass, boy, " he challenged.
Daryl was up in a split-second, barreling into Shane with his head pitched low to catch him in the gut. Shane bent into the assault to lessen the force, but the move sent them both sprawling on the ground. They scrabbled for the first punch. Daryl had landed on top but off balance, so the right hook he landed hurt like a bitch but didn't knock Shane out. Instead he was able to grab hold of Daryl by the front of his shirt and wrench him to one side with a thud before he had the chance to re-cock his arm.
Shane quickly lurched on top of Daryl, high up enough on his torso that he could render his arms useless with his knees close under his armpits. He stopped his fist awkwardly in mid-flight. In the back of his mind, what was left of his reason told him battering the man beyond recognition would probably cut his options with the group pretty short, especially if Daryl lived to tell his version. And he wasn't about to kill this little prick, much as he was really up to enjoying causing him some pain.
His hesitation gave Daryl a second to buck him off, forcing him forward onto his hands and knees. He sensed Daryl get up and come up alongside him, figuring to deliver him a good kick in the gut, so he fell back instead and swept his leg into the back of Daryl's knee. Daryl's leg buckled with a groan of pain.
Shane didn't waste any more time. He jumped up and backhanded Daryl across the face, knocking him sideways from his semi-kneeling position. Daryl shook it off and went to stand unsteadily, but Shane kicked him backwards before he was off his knees, aiming for the diaphragm to knock the wind out of him. It did, and he had to give it to the scrappy fucker, he didn't look about to stay down.
Instead, Daryl grunted determinedly and staggered to his feet. Shane gave him room, not wanting to be finished now. He'd been holding in so much shit lately he was relishing the chance to let it go on something, and this motherfucker had it coming. He let Daryl come and take a swing, but his aim was off and Shane dealt him another hard slap, this time to the side of the head. Shane was trying to hold back from full-on punching Daryl, aware of the fact that he still had an injury and wasn't really at full strength .
Daryl stumbled, his ears probably ringing from the blow. He looked dizzy as hell, but as Shane came forward to deliver another blow, he surprised him with a swift punch to the nose that sent him into a pain-filled rage. He caught Daryl's arm as he swung another fist and used the momentum to yank him off his feet and hurl him to the ground.
He rounded on Daryl as he was attempting to get off his stomach, helping him over with a sharp kick to his right side, luckily not the side where he had taken a crossbow bolt. Daryl rolled away from the blow and wound up on his back. Shane was on him immediately, pinning him.
"You gonna start humpin' me again?" Daryl snarled, trying to free his arms enough to do something.
At that, Shane suddenly felt an urge to hurt this man almost like when he'd pounded Ed Peletier into the ground at the quarry camp. Only this time it wasn't just pain he wanted to cause him. He wanted to fucking humiliate him, for having the balls to show him such open contempt, for calling him out at the CDC, for starting all this today like he was Dale's lapdog, trying to help drive him out of the group. He knew he had to vent this rage before he did real damage.
He fished in his pocket for some cable ties he had scavenged when he and Andrea had been out together. They were close enough to the ones he'd used as restraints as a cop, just less comfortable.
He rolled Daryl over on his stomach and twist-tied his hands behind his back before he had any chance to resist. It was a practiced cop-move. He figured someone like Daryl had probably been in this position before.
"What the fuck you doin'? Can't win a fair fight, so you gonna cuff me? Fuckin' pussy."
Shane sat heavily on the ground next to him and started dragging Daryl across his lap, almost laughing as he let this fucked up impulse wipe out what was left of his rational thought. Daryl wrenched his body sideways and almost rolled off, but with his wrists tied and his side injured he couldn't quite make it. Shane managed to pull him back and get a leg wrapped over both of his, until he was pretty well pinned.
He knew how confused Daryl was probably getting right now as he started dragging his jeans and boxers down over his ass. He started struggling and swearing, calling him a faggot and a crazy motherfucker, and the slight panic in his voice made it even more satisfying.
"Don't worry, boy, I ain't fuckin' you. I'm just gonna beat your ass like I said I would." He didn't give him even a second to digest that before he brought his flattened palm down on his ass as hard as he could. He was rewarded with a startled yelp of pain.
"The fuck are you doin'? " Daryl shouted, shock and indignation making his voice crack. Shane brought his hand down a few more times, just as hard, leaving dark pink handprints on the pale skin.
It was like trying to rein in a bucking bronco the way Daryl was trying to thrash out of Shane's grasp, but he had tired him out enough beforehand that he was able to hold tight. He started punishing his ass with blow after blow until he couldn't even make out the individual handprints anymore and his palm had gotten raw.
Meanwhile, Daryl was spewing venom the whole time, "gonna fuckin' kill you, fuckin' bitch pervert motherfucker", his frantic struggling pushing him up against Shane's groin in a way that was starting to make this pleasurable for a whole different reason. He wasn't just venting his anger by demeaning Daryl in the worst possible way, he was getting really aroused.
After awhile his hand couldn't take anymore but he wasn't ready to be done. He bent forwards and pulled off his shoe. No point him being in pain, too.
He brought the sole of his shoe down so hard that Daryl's body jolted at the impact. He moaned with pain and frustration and continued to struggle but his movements were getting weaker as he started to realize it wasn't getting him anywhere. After another twenty painful strikes or so he finally stopped trying to yell and swear, his voice had become too shaky to be at all intimidating and now he seemed to be concentrating instead on not making a sound, and only partially succeeding.
Another ten and he stopped struggling altogether. Shane tossed the shoe to the side and rested his hand on Daryl's ass, kind of liking how the hot, welted skin felt against his palm.
"What's the matter? No more shit to talk now, huh?" For emphasis Shane slapped his ass again, hard.
"I'm gonna kill you you sonovabitch !" Daryl threatened, his voice catching slightly at the end.
Shane was so turned on right now he could hardly believe it. All those little stifled grunts and near-whimpers he had forced out of Daryl had gotten him so hard it hurt. He shifted position slightly, keeping his free arm pressing down across Daryl's back to keep him secured.
He was getting ready to lay into him some more because, fuck it, no way would Daryl be able to let anyone else ever find out about this. Just the idea that he wouldn't be able to sit comfortably for days, that he'd have to remember this again every time he tried to, made him almost grind himself off against Daryl as he held onto him.
But apparently he wasn't the only one having a...reaction... to all this. He doubted it for a second but now he could plainly feel Daryl's boner pressing into his leg. His anger was completely spent at this point. This had veered off into something that felt more surreal than the first time he'd seen a dead man walking. Daryl had gone completely still, his face pressed against the grass. The only sound between them was his labored breathing, panting from all the exertion.
Shane slapped him again, this time shifting his leg so that the impact thrust Daryl's cock forward into his thigh. "You like that ?" he taunted.
"Fucking pervert, " Daryl said, the words coming out in a groan. He made one more futile attempt to heave his body out of Shane's grip.
Shane responded by slapping him harder, over and over again, until Daryl started to squirm under the blows, and Shane realized he was trying desperately to avoid the rough contact between his erection and Shane's leg.
"What's the matter? " Shane mocked him viciously. "You don't wanna come ? Who's the pervert now, huh?" He stopped spanking his ass and reached his hand around to grip his cock instead.
"S-stop," Daryl gasped, "...don't...don't..."
He sounded almost pleading and it made Shane want to make him lose it. That would be fucking perfect, after all the shit he talked about him being a faggot. He rolled back a bit so Daryl wouldn't come all over his leg, cause that would be pretty hard to explain, and started jerking him steadily, not giving him a chance to hold back or twist away. Shane pressed his own jean-clad erection against Daryl's abused backside, and figured he'd just relieve himself of his underwear if he came like this.
The way Daryl was writhing against him, he couldn't tell if he was trying to come or trying not to, but either way he wasn't making it easy to hold back.
Finally, Shane felt Daryl's cock pulsing in his hand, felt the warm liquid spilling over his fingers. The whimpery little noise he made when he realized he was going to come sent Shane over the edge at the same time, clutching Daryl against him as his muscles tightened with the force of his orgasm.
He shoved Daryl off his lap then, his jeans and boxers half down around his thighs, his wrists still bound behind his back. His face was flushed a deep red, his eyes squeezed shut, his chest heaving erratically.
Shane retrieved his shoe and put it back on. He decided to be nice and went to clean Daryl off with the rag he always kept in his back pocket. He got behind him and knelt him up, pulling up his jeans. He even zipped up the fly and refastened them closed. Daryl wasn't resisting him at the moment, wasn't making a sound. Shane figured he was so mind-fucked that he couldn't even react. It made him feel a little bad for going that far. A little.
He took hold of his wrists. "I'm gonna take these off, but you come at me again, you're gonna regret it," he said calmly in Daryl's ear. He sliced through the plastic with his knife.
Daryl pulled his arms in front of himself, got to his feet unsteadily. He snatched his crossbow from where it was standing up against a nearby tree and spun around, raising it on Shane.
Shane fell back a step, cursing himself for not having paid attention to where that damned bow was.
They stood there facing off for long moments, Daryl glowering at him through the sights, his arms visibly trembling with suppressed emotion. Finally Daryl checked himself, lowering the crossbow and shouldering it instead with a violent shrug.
"Guess we both got our little secrets, huh?" Shane said, breathing a little sigh of relief that he hadn't wound up with a bolt in his head.
"Stay the fuck away from me ," Daryl growled at him menacingly. Their eyes stayed locked on eachother's for a little too long after that before Daryl turned abruptly and stalked out of his own camp to head for the woods, limping slightly.
Man, Shane thought to himself with more than a little regret, shit probably would've gone a whole lot differently if we could've just fucked at the CDC.