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It had been an exceptionally hot day, a stiflingly hot day, not a cloud in the sky. The temperature had risen almost immediately to triple digits after the sunrise, and the air was slowly becoming harder to breathe. It’s not a surprise; really, this is what Georgian summers always were. The air felt like boiling steam, suffocating everything.
The large yard of the prison offers little to no shade whatsoever, and even in the shade of the guard towers the air neared uncomfortable levels.
Searing heat from the sun blazed down and was emphasized by the rubble and the asphalt covering the yard, and it’s an attack of heat from both directions, from up and down, and there was no escape from it.
Further away down the field, the air shimmered and ripple off the ground. It made the shadows of trees, bushes and rocks grow up and flicker. The shapes of people disfigure in the fluttering air, doubling in size, dividing when moving, spreading and sprinkling into the hazy air around them. In a way the ripples and shimmering were beautiful, but it was also torturously mind affecting. After staring at the natural phenomenon for too long, it made the eyes and head ache. The heat and the shimmering mirage that surrounded people made their eyes feel tender, like they were about to be scorched into their skulls and it made the eyes – and any soft tissue – of the risen dead burst with oozing, viscous blood and rotted flesh.
Despite the beautiful aspects of the mirage effect, the heat was taking its toll on all of the people in their group.
Daryl had been at the fence killing the walkers through the chain links, while Shane had worked with the water drums with Glenn, filling and stacking them in the shade between cell blocks A and B.
Shane had kept a watchful eye on Daryl most of the day; not because of jealousy, but mostly because of every passing minute he’d fought the urge to run over to him, and drag him back into their cell for some afternoon delight. Their intimate relationship had sustained a substantial dent since they had arrived at the prison because of lack of privacy. Of course, Shane didn’t mind if someone heard their moans, but he didn’t want to make Daryl any more uncomfortable than he already was, surrounded by concrete walls, steel bar doors and several people. He knew how much all that bothered his Little Squirrel.
His pants had been uncomfortably tight for a good while now and he’d started to think about possible side effects of being hard for so fucking long. He’d tried to remember everything he’d heard at school, but with poor results. Each step caused the pleasingly aching hard-on to rub against the front of his trousers. He’d even gone the distance of thinking what he could tell Hershel, if the need arose. Not that he really wanted to go and talk to the old vet about his junk.
He needed that thought of distraction, as he’d resumed watching Daryl.
After a good while, he’d been sure that Daryl was aware that he was watching, and as a result was just flaunting his body for him to watch. There was sweat glistening on the skin of his arms, trickling down from his face down to his neck. When he poured some cool water over his head before drinking some, Shane was sure he was going to die of a hard-on. He’d shaken his head after that. Thinking about him rising again as a walker with a boner in his trousers wasn’t exactly something he would want the rest of the group to see.
But instead of acting on his sudden need, Shane had continued to drag those water drums, and kept watching as Daryl continued to spike the walkers through the chain links.
The end of their shift couldn’t have come faster.
* * *
It’s already dark when Rick decides to call everyone back inside. They all drag their feet when they walk into the cellblock that’s only a degree or two cooler than the outside air. Truthfully, it wouldn’t be the cure, it wouldn’t be their old life they are all wishing right now; they would all kill for an AC. At least, Shane knew he’d be first in line for that, and he wouldn’t be the first one to wish the old world back.
Sweat and dirt clings onto their skins, their clothes are not the same color anymore that they had been before all this started and the stench of walker blood and gore hardly bothered them anymore. He scratches his arm a little, sighing. He’s tired, and in need of a good scrub, with a bar of soap and steel wool. They all are in need of a bath, and they all could use a set of clean clothes and clean bedding.
It’s not dark yet, but tired or not, they still have some chores to do, despite being extremely ready for bed and sleep for the next eighty years. Shane doesn’t listen to a thing Rick has to say about the night’s guard duty. He’s not even in a mood to ask who is on guard duty right now. As far as he knows and cares, it’s neither him nor Daryl. He doesn’t really care what the itinerary is for the morning, either.
They’ve been outside all afternoon, barely eating or drinking anything. They’ve been occupying the prison for the summer now, building and making it their own. It’s been one chore and one job after another, and not eating while working wasn’t anything new, despite the fact that both Carol and Beth had done an awesome job cooking all the rabbits and deer and squirrels Daryl had caught for the group. Today’s menu had consisted mostly of rabbit, but with something resembling a salad made out of the weeds growing here and there. Neither Daryl nor Shane had eaten, opting to hand over their portion of the meat to be shared by the group and instead nibbled the dry, charred bread that Beth and Maggie had baked and then burned.
He’s not even sure he had drunk enough water, which is funny considering he was working with the water drums. He remembers how Rick and Daryl dragged a smaller pail of water onto the table, and people had been crowding it, but truthfully, all he really remembers from that moment are Daryl’s arms.
He sits down and wipes his forehead with a rag when Daryl saunters in and drops his crossbow on the table with a loud clang, startling Judith and making Rick roll his eyes as Beth throws a murderous glare at the Hunter that once again proves the old proverb, ‘if looks could kill’. She hurries over to soothe the baby, muttering something about oblivious men who have it easy.
“Jesus, Daryl!” Rick groans, hurrying after Beth and cooing at the baby softly, murmuring that everything was alright. Daryl manages to look sheepish.
Shane duly forgets all the other people around him when Daryl stretches his back, shirt riding up, revealing a strip of skin of his stomach. The Archer groans, as the joints of his arms pop and his back cracks a little. Glenn scrunches his face and complains about Daryl cracking his joints and is agreed by few of the other people. Shane doesn’t listen, not really. He’s imagining his hands all over Daryl’s body and that feeling settles deep, into the pit of his stomach. He’s feeling frustrated and heated, and it’s too much at that point.
When Maggie walks in with a triumphant look on her face, a wrench in her hand and declares that the showers are currently working as well as can be expected under the circumstances Shane glances at Daryl with a mischievous grin. He’s not nearly stupid enough to step in front of the ladies of the prison; to be honest, he’d get trampled if he did, but he’s most definitely going to take his Little Squirrel down to the shower room tonight.
Daryl looks back at Shane and as if he can read his mind, he blushes a little, before he rolls his eyes.
* * *
It’s already dark outside when Michonne walks back into the dining area and tells them that the showers are free.
Shane looks up at Daryl, who is going through the crossbow strings meticulously trying to ignore the people around him. He almost feels bad for interrupting the concentration, but only almost.
He reaches over to grab his wrist, stilling his hand, and lacing his fingers with Daryl’s. He mouths ‘come on’ at the Hunter, tilting his head just a little bit towards the direction of the shower room, and as he stands up, he drags Daryl up after him from his seat. Daryl’s cheeks flush immediately with a pleasing shade of pink, because he’s still not used to public displays of affection, but he doesn’t resist and follows Shane quickly. If someone thinks anything of it, they keep it to themselves. If his little band of stragglers is something, they understand, they are family.
The hall down to the shower room is dark. They haven’t gotten around figuring out the best way to light it up properly. Their eyes are used to it by now, the dark, because candle light is pretty much the only thing they have. They can still find candles, some lanterns when they are out on a run, but they are always in a conservation mode when it comes to flashlights.
But at the moment, they are rather clumsy, stumbling and tripping over the little things on the floor, and over their own legs.
When they reach the door, Shane pushes them both hastily inside, maneuvering them through the doorway, and haphazardly yanking the rope holding the privacy curtain out of the way, letting the flimsy piece of flowery fabric fall down to cover it. Actually he’d be more pleased with an actual door, and he can sense it from Daryl as well; he’s not sure this ‘free style with no doors’ is anywhere near secure enough.
He knows, and Daryl knows, that the flowery fabric covering the door, that might have been a bed sheet, doesn’t do much, because everything and every sound in the hall echoes, but he’s too heated and too distracted to go on and run around the prison to try and find a suitable nook for their little escapade. The guard towers are Daryl’s favorite but neither of them was on guard duty. Lately Daryl has also protested being on guard with Shane, because he doesn’t want to risk the lives of anyone over a sudden make out session.
Shane places his palms on Daryl’s waist, gently pulling him towards him, spinning them both around. Daryl’s arms wrap around Shane’s shoulders, as his back slams against the tile wall, and he grunts out loud. Shane braces his left palm quickly against the white tiles. He looks at Daryl for a second, drinking in the parted lips and the messy hair. He leans closer, his tongue dragging over the jaw line of the Hunter, up to his ear, before he nips his earlobe quickly, his tongue running over the shell of his ear. Daryl can hear Shane humming through his rapid breathing.
Shane’s stubble is past two days shadow and it scrapes over Daryl’s neck, making him whimper at the contact, hoping – but not really, no – that the whisker burns aren’t going to be too bad tomorrow. He doesn’t realize it but he’s practically hyperventilating himself when he clutches Shane’s shoulders, pulling him forcefully closer, tightly holding on for dear life, as the former deputy keeps mouthing, nipping and kissing his way up and down Daryl’s neck and jaw, placing open mouthed kisses on his neck, sucking wetly at a point here and there. Daryl’s fingers curl around the black, damp fabric of Shane’s tee, instantly looking for something to hold onto.
Shane shifts, just a little, and sucks Daryl’s neck, just over the small tattooed ‘X’ he has there. He loves how the Archer tastes, and how he moves underneath his touch. Daryl arches his whole body, muscles tensing at first before relaxing a little, and then he rubs himself slightly against Shane, like a cat, scent marking his person. It still reminds him of their first time together, the nervous and shy and ready to bolt Daryl. Shane’s chest aches for a fleeting second, thinking about how vulnerable Daryl was back then, before he gets a grip of his thoughts, and tangles his fingers up into Daryl’s hair, and quickly groans approvingly as Daryl tilts his head to grant a better access to his neck.
He pulls Daryl’s hair a little, tilting his head back more, breathing against his skin as he sucks, bites and licks one spot then a second spot, both knowing it’ll bruise, before he presses his tongue against the mark, soothing the tingling sensation away.
The former cop keeps his touches light, thumb brushing gently against his neck, over the thumping pulse, stopping for a moment to feel it flutter, his nose pressing against Daryl’s temple. He pulls back a little, just to see Daryl’s face, and reveling in the satisfying pink flush of his face, heated look in his eyes, and the heavy heaving of his chest.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he growls with possessiveness.
His blue eyes simmering with burning lust, which is more than enough for Shane himself to feel a wave of unbridled pride and want wash over him. For Daryl to show so openly his feelings, giving an easy read of his face, it hasn’t always been as painless as it was now. Shane can’t help but feel slightly woozy when he realizes how much the Hunter trusts him. He gently brings his palm to cup Daryl’s face, clashing their lips together hungrily as a token of appreciation of his trust towards the former cop.
Daryl whines softly into Shane’s mouth, but quickly catches with the pace and kisses him back equally hungrily. His hand slides over Shane’s shoulder and onto his neck, mussing up his hair, as he tugs the thick locks and pulls the older man deeper into the kiss and towards him; their lips melding together, both moaning softly and fighting the urge to pull back for oxygen.
His hand rests on Daryl’s neck, as he tilts his head, his tongue running slowly over Daryl’s bottom lip, before pushing determined through them and into his mouth, probing and searching of the Archer’s. There’s a moment of hesitation from Daryl, but then Shane feels him suckle his tongue quickly, and he grunts approvingly, deepening the kiss.
Daryl’s beard scrapes Shane’s chin, he feels the burning sensation on his skin, but he doesn’t care.
It feels exhilarating, it feels Daryl. He knows that his own beard is scraping Daryl just as much. And as if he’s reading Shane’s mind Daryl growls a little, before bringing his hand to cup his cheek, fingers raking over the stubble.
His arms slide underneath Daryl’s arms, down his back, and he grabs handfuls of firm ass cheeks, making the Archer groan into his mouth yet again, and tug his hair harder, as his back arches.
They do not stop kissing until they feel utterly oxygen deprived. There’s red heat behind Shane’s eyelids, when he pulls back and lets air fill his lungs yet again. He rests his forehead against Daryl’s they take a moment to calm their breathing, before he nuzzles against the heated skin of Daryl’s cheek. The urge to kiss and tease him a little bit more builds inside of him, and he admits that he can’t keep his mouth off of Daryl, and that’s why Shane doesn’t even pretend to have any self-control, when he dips his head down, his teeth nipping the sensitive skin on his neck. Daryl nibbles tentatively Shane’s earlobe, holding it between his lips, like a soft, warm pacifier. He trembles with anticipation, and clutches onto him tighter, with a soft noise of want escaping from his throat.
And it still is the most beautiful sound that Daryl can ever make.
Even if he’s moaning and screaming out loud Shane’s name when he’s coming doesn’t compare to the little sounds he makes when Shane kisses him.
Their bodies are flush against each other’s, Daryl leans against Shane further and his hips grind involuntarily when he looks at Shane, his expression reflecting nervous and lust at the same time.
Since it’s far too seldom that they get privacy anymore; alone time is practically an impossibility, and intimate time is a luxury, they are far too overdue with their body-on-body gratification and release. Daryl’s mind is reeling; unable to comprehend that it was actually happening. So, Daryl trembles, as if waiting for someone or something to interrupt them.
He doesn’t really know what to expect, but it would be his damned luck if half of the prison population – or fucking all of them – would enter the shower room gawking at them, or a horde of walkers to bust through the wall. His senses peaked, tuned into every sound this rusting, grumbling pile of concrete, bricks and metal makes, trying to listen to the sounds of alarm, danger, sudden stalkers, growling of the walkers, anything really, but he doesn’t hear a thing.
Instead, he hears Shane humming softly, feels his lips under his jaw, nibbling and mouthing his way down the column of his neck, inch after agonizing inch. He relaxes with an involuntary shudder when Shane runs his tongue over the collar bones, fingers tangling into Daryl’s long hair. The only sounds he can hear are their quickened breathing, wet kisses, Shane’s groans of pleasure and Daryl’s own soft whimpering. Shane moves up, licking over Daryl’s lips, slanting his mouth over his, and kisses Daryl almost painfully hard for what feels like minutes. When he pulls back, Daryl chases Shane’s lips, and frowning with disappointment, trying to calm his breathing, as his body reacts with another inflamed shudder, begging to be touched again.
Shane’s fingers slide over the fabric of Daryl’s shirt, down over the broad chest, to the hem of the black, scruffy shirt. Daryl watches intensely at Shane, shifting a little when his fingers slowly begin to toy with the ragged hem of the shirt, with a slight confusion on his face, and chewing the inside of his cheek.
Truthfully, this is the point where either of them would just rip open, or rip off their shirts.
But Shane’s actually patient now.
Wetting his lips few times, heavy, lust filled eyes fixed on Shane, he watches Shane start from the bottom button, and slowly work his way upwards, caressing the skin underneath as he goes from button to button. Daryl feels shivers running over his skin when Shane lets his fingernails scratch over his chest and abdomen. He throws his head back, his eyes closing, when Shane’s fingers run over his hardened nipples, feeling them tighten and harden under his touch.
“Jesus,” Shane murmurs, “You’re still so sensitive, Baby” he groans pleased, and curls his fingers under the waistband of Daryl’s jeans, then moving quickly to fumble with his belt.
After a moment, a sufficient amount of time for anyone to open a belt, Daryl chuckles out loud, and hears Shane curse under his breath. For some reason, it’s always Daryl’s belt that Shane can’t open. So, after Shane is still being more interested in attacking his lips and neck with his teeth, lips and tongue, instead of actually getting the belt undone, Daryl moves his own hands over Shane’s and pushes them gently aside to open the temperamental belt himself. Shane huffs, but his lips curl into a smile, against Daryl’s skin, chuckling as his nose brushes against the shell of Daryl’s ear and he hums softly, when Daryl finally pulls the belt off.
“Yeah, nice and slow,” he murmurs into Daryl’s ear, “That’s hot, Baby,” he adds, before reaching down for the hem of his own T shirt, pulling it over his head, and tossing it on the ground.
He swats Daryl’s hands away quickly from the zipper of his jeans, placing his palms on Daryl’s waist, pulling him closer, shaking his head a little, “Nuh-uh, don’t touch.”
Daryl growls in disappointment, but lets his hands fall limp, and instead looks at Shane, and his hands as they travel up, drawing circles over the taut stomach, over his chest, and then fingers tracing the skin around Daryl’s nipples. Shane listens to the hitch in his breathing, tiny mewls and breathy moans escaping from his lips. It’s a rewarding sight to pull the tattered shirt over his hard shoulders, built up from constantly cocking that bow of his, and dragging all of its 45lbs through the woods.
The red hue on Daryl’s cheeks is making Shane’s mind spin, and he kisses him demandingly again, drawing out more of those wonderful sounds of need and want. He shifts, brushing the long and stubborn locks of Daryl’s hair aside from his eyes, stroking his palm over his cheek. He glances into Daryl’s eyes, and sees that familiar moment of insecurity in them. Shane hums softly, smoothing his thumb over Daryl’s bottom lip he chews ever so lightly, drinking in the whole image; Daryl’s flushed cheeks, his lip between his teeth.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” Shane whispers, wetting his lips, and thinking about how much he wants to throw the Archer on the ground and fuck him silly.
“’m sure I do,” Daryl mumbles, looking down at the bulge in Shane’s pants rather pointedly.
Shane chuckles, tilting his head just a little before glancing at Daryl mischievously, “Just, get these fuckers off,” he breathes impatiently, peeling finally off the sleeveless shirt and leather vest at the same time, throwing them on the floor somewhere behind them. Daryl huffs a reply watching his precious vest drop on the floor with the dirty shirt, but forgets it quickly when Shane runs his palm over the sides of his, dipping his head down and kissing Daryl. It’s forceful and demanding. It’s not that surprising, but Daryl never complains. Daryl’s scruff scrapes still against his chin nicely, his heightened senses making the feeling shoot directly into his crotch.
Shane can taste cigarette on him, he can taste sweat on his lips.
They both feel each other through their pants, both of them throbbing, hard and eager. Anticipation is making Daryl feel anxious, and he adjusts himself a little bit, his legs parting slightly, and granting Shane’s knee access to slide between them. Daryl’s knees buckle a little bit, his aching cock pressing against the tight denim, as he grinds it against Shane’s thigh.
Shane groans, feeling the heat through the fabrics of their pants.
Despite they are both filthy from their chores, sweat and dirt clinging onto their skins, Shane can’t be bothered. He still runs his tongue over the small ‘x’ tattooed on the juncture of Daryl’s neck and shoulder. He feels Daryl’s fingers tangling into his too-long-for-his-own-taste hair, and then tugging teasingly. He lets out a heated hiss, and reciprocates the action, tugging Daryl’s hair and licking the sweat glistening skin of his neck, when he growls into Daryl’s ear, pushing Daryl’s back against the wall tighter.
Shane’s lips travel down to Daryl’s shoulder, his fingers ghosting over his sides, his thigh presses against Daryl’s throbbing hard on. Their bodies move as one, and when Daryl arches his back, tilting his head back just a little, Shane moves accordingly. Daryl moves after Shane’s mouth, kissing forcefully, stifling the moan that tries to burst out from Shane’s lips. The Archer’s fingers clutch Shane’s shoulders, fingers leaving red marks on the tanned skin, as he continues to kiss his lover, feeling his whole body shuddering.
“Feels good?” Shane murmurs softly, pushing Daryl gently against the wall, “You’re trembling, Baby.”
He keeps his brown eyes on Daryl’s baby blues as he smirks, leaning down, his mouth hovering over his chest, barely touching, and making Daryl struggle to stand still.
“S-Shane,” Daryl stutters a breathy reply, looking back at Shane intently.
Shane grins, not able to stifle the snort of laughter that bubbles out, and Daryl knows he’s not going to stop. His breath feels delicious on his chest, like a welcome breeze of cool air in the Georgian heat. The anticipation of a kiss or a touch wreaks havoc in his nerves and makes his heated skin quiver when Shane blows air onto his abdomen. His nose and lips hover just millimeters from his skin, and he can’t stop himself from moaning out loud, “Jesus, Shane, quit teasing m-me!”
Shane’s lips brush over his hardened left nipple, and Daryl’s body jerks involuntarily, quaking to the core, as a strangled and desperate whimper rises from his throat. Shane’s hands steady him, his palms on his sides, thumbs rubbing over the ribs. He ignores the whimpers, lips enveloping around the hardened peak, as his tongue slides and rolls over it, in a slow, haste free pace.
Daryl squirms, his muscles flex and ripple, his fingernails running over Shane’s back, as the feeling of Shane sucking the sensitive nub shoots throughout his body and make him grit his teeth together. He slides his hands onto Shane’s head blindly, sliding his fingers through his hair, clutching and tugging.
Shane smirks, when his teeth scrape against the sensitive flesh and Daryl moans, his palms holding onto his head.
“S-Shane, c’mon!” he hisses, like Shane’s mouth’s burning him.
He pulls back, bringing his thumb and index finger onto Daryl’s left nipple, and slowly trails a line of kisses and small licks over his chest, to the right nipple, lavishing the same amount of attention onto it, enjoying the feeling of Daryl shuddering underneath his touch. He works his magic with Daryl’s left nipple, teasing, pinching and twisting just a little.
“I bet you could come just from me teasing your nipples, couldn’t you?” Shane chuckles, as Daryl’s fingers dig into his arms.
“Then s-stop teasin’ me, Shane!” he exclaims, almost confessing to what Shane said. Almost.
Shane lets his hands wander back down onto Daryl’s sides, as he slowly kneels down on the floor in front of him, keeping his motions short and deliberate. Grinning at the exasperated look on Daryl’s face, as he looks down at Shane, flushed pink all over from arousal, he tilts his head a little, kissing his way down each and every rib of Daryl’s.
He strokes his sides, soothing him to calm down, until he lowers his palms onto the waistband of Daryl’s black jeans.
He looks up at the Hunter, and how his abdomen hollows out as he tries not to tremble too much, or shift too much. Daryl’s back arches, and he tries – oh, how he tries – to stand still. It’s an even bigger turn on for Shane to watch Daryl slowly unravel like this, than have him moan and beg underneath him. He keeps eyes trained on his face, watching intently as his eyes flutter, and his breathing hitches into his throat, as he tries to maneuver himself through the sensations and feelings.
Shane murmurs softly, resting his forehead against his stomach. He showers tender kisses onto the skin, before he licks a trail from the waistband of his jeans to his navel. His own cock aches as he shifts, making it rub against his pants, and in doing so makes Shane hiss out loud. He grunts, as he lets his teeth graze over the jutting hip bone on Daryl’s left side, trying to will himself not to think about his dick.
Daryl whines out loud at that moment, his knees buckling a little, “Stop teasin’…”
Shane hooks his fingers tightly around Daryl’s hips, preventing him from moving, smirking at the desperation in Daryl’s voice. He kisses Daryl’s hip bone wetly, letting his teeth graze sharply against the skin, listening to Daryl’s surprised squeak as he shakes his head, willing himself to stay still, his fingers squeezed into tight fists.
He does it again, trapping the skin between his teeth, and again, before he lets his tongue soothe over the bite mark, and then kissing and sucking the spot hungrily. Shane adjusts his position, kneeling on the floor, sliding his palms up Daryl’s sides slowly, feeling the softness of the Archer’s skin. He continues to kiss a line over Daryl’s stomach, following the waistband.
“S-Shane,” Daryl gasps softly, his hand dragging over the broad, bare shoulders, curling over the strong biceps, trying to stand still, and trying to keep Shane from moving.
Shane groans, his abdomen tightening, as his cock bobs a little in the confines of his jeans. Taking it slow is a sweet torture, and he can’t give up on that, because who knows when he’ll get another chance like this. So, he keeps going slow; very slow. Lips feather kisses on the sensitive skin of Daryl’s stomach. He explores over Daryl’s navel, and down to his right and to the other hip bone. Daryl’s fingers curl over the flexing muscles on Shane’s arms, back arching as he moans, when Shane proceeds to lavish an equal amount of attention onto his other side. Each kiss and touch makes the brooding Archer allow breathy moans escape from his throat, his body craving the touches and the anticipation of promise of release.
The older man hooks his finger over the waistband of Daryl’s jeans, running it between the fabric and the skin, enjoying the reaction of his muscles contracting and rippling against the pads of his fingers. He knows how sensitive the lower abdomen of Daryl’s is, he knows how frustrated he gets when Shane teases him like this. Last time they were able to do anything such as this, was at the Greene Farm, a little eternity ago.
“Look at ya, Baby,” Shane whispers, still kneeling on the floor, looking up at Daryl biting his bottom lip and trying to keep quiet, “Ya want it?”
Daryl keeps biting his bottom lip.
“Ya want me to touch you, don’t you?” Shane inquires, chuckling.
“Shane, quit the fucking teasing!” Daryl cries out, tilting his head back, eyes closed, praying his knees won’t buckle for real.
“Nuh-uh,” he breathes, teething the skin below Daryl’s navel playfully hard and hears him hiss out loud.
“Ya g-gotta… I can’t…” the soft gasps between words Daryl makes knot low in Shane’s belly and he tugs the waistband down just slightly, trail of hair disappearing underneath, encouraging to explore more, but he stops quickly and chuckles slightly at the frustrated groan he hears from above.
“You’re wanting this so bad, Baby,” he murmurs, running his finger over the sensitive skin few times more. Each time Daryl’s stomach contracts, muscles rippling, and there’s a hitch in his already uneven breathing.
“No, no… Unhhh…” Daryl moans out loud, protesting, when Shane backs away, and slowly stands up.
He places his hands on Daryl’s narrow hips and tugs him slightly closer. The Archer nuzzles closer, his hands traveling down onto the waistband of Shane’s pants.
“C’mon, man,” he groans, his pupils blown with lust, as he pulls Shane closer, until his back is flat against the cool tiled wall. He tries to open the pants before Shane stops him. It takes a lot out of Shane to do that, because all he really wants is his man naked and writhing underneath him.
He leans closer, claiming Daryl’s lips with his own, heated beyond anymore talking. Their kisses are wet, lazy and slow. Daryl wraps his arms around Shane’s neck, their chests flush against one another, as he slowly runs his tongue over Shane’s bottom lip, nipping it before he suckles it into his mouth and Shane tangles his fingers into his hair. Their kiss lasts for a moment, before they pull back.
Daryl’s growing impatient and desperate, because Shane’s avoiding the one place he desperately wants to feel his touch. Instead, Shane keeps rubbing over his abs and chest, making his stomach flip from excitement. Every now and then he lets his fingernails scrape over his nipples, making them pebble up and beg for more attention.
“Shane,” Daryl moans, when his thumb rolls over one erect nipple, and it feels too good, “Just like that, don’t… don’t stop.”
“Ya like this?” he whispers into Daryl’s ear, pinching his right nipple suddenly making Daryl squirm in his arms, “Ya fuckin’ love that, don’t ya?”
“Fuck!” Daryl moans, satisfying flush creeping onto his face and onto his chest, “Ya keep teasin’ ‘em like that all the time - - Shane, just… FUCK!” he whimpers out, as Shane tweaks his left nipple between his thumb and index finger. Daryl’s back arches, and he shudders, his legs trembling from the strain.
“Shh, you don’t want people to find us like this, now do ya?” Shane chuckles at the Hunter’s blissful outburst.
“Yeah, ’m gonna grow old before you get anythin’ done!” he huffs out loud in desperation, biting his bottom lip and looking at Shane.
His outburst makes Shane chuckle out loud. He pulls Daryl closer and kisses him as if to prove a point that they, in fact, have a point – sort of. Shane keeps the kisses light, enjoying more of the feeling of closeness, and the friction he creates by grinding himself against Daryl’s hip.
Daryl slides his arm down, pushing himself to press tighter against Shane. His hand slides between them, finding the bulge that is Shane’s aching cock, and slowly begins to stroke him through his pants.
“What is it, Baby? Want some more?” Shane coaxes Daryl, and letting his palms rest on the Archer’s narrow hips, and watches as he bites the inside of his cheek, looking at Shane face flushed, sweat glistening on his tanned skin. Shane stares into those blue eyes, smirking a little, gasping out loud as Daryl gives a firm squeeze to the bulge in his trousers.
“Yeah? You wanna play?” Shane murmurs into Daryl’s ear, “Wanna make me come?” his voice thick with lust, gritting his teeth together, watching intently at Daryl’s every move.
Daryl looks down, his dexterous fingers unzipping his pants, only slightly trembling. He spreads the fly and tugs the waistband down a little bit, still letting them hang low on Shane’s hips. He’s surprised that Shane’s not wearing boxers, and he arches his eyebrow as he scoffs out loud.
“You’re not the only one runnin’ around commando, Angelcakes,” Shane chuckles.
“Jerk,” Daryl growls.
His fingers touch the bare flesh of Shane’s throbbing pre-come slick cock, and lets out a breath with a hiss, and slowly begins to stroke the entire length of the most beautiful cock he’s ever seen. It’s big and hard, and just like Shane himself, perfectly shaped.
Shane groans out loud when Daryl’s fingers begin to stroke his length gently at first, running from the base to the tip, and teasing the sensitive crown. He bucks upwards, into Daryl’s hand, hips grinding slowly. He tilts the Archer’s head just enough to claim his lips. They kiss in a rushed desperation, and while Shane moves his left hand to tweak and pinch Daryl’s nipples, Daryl keeps stroking Shane’s perfect cock. He enjoys it as much as Shane does, he loves to feel the dark eyed man’s body shiver, and know it’s because of him. They pant into each other’s mouths, skin against skin, and groaning lost in their lust.
“Slow, Baby, go slow,” Shane moans, almost whimpering, resting his forehead against Daryl’s shoulder, “Oh, fuck…” he groans when Daryl slows down, and barely allows the pads of his fingers to touch the slick skin. His cock twitches, demanding more contact, welcoming each feathery stroke Daryl’s fingers provide.
Shane’s mind is clouded with the sensation, he slowly begins to work the tattered jeans of Daryl’s down, revealing the perfect globes of his ass, and then, finally freeing his cock. The friction from the fabric on his dick makes Daryl lurch forward, against the tiles, breaking their kiss, and breaking the contact with Shane’s throbbing cock, and making his body shudders almost violently, as his cock bobs freely with each involuntary jerk of his hips.
“No, no, Baby, don’t touch yourself,” Shane orders, stroking gently Daryl’s cheek.
“I - -,” Daryl begins, then biting his lip, looking at Shane nervously.
Daryl’s used to the bad end of the sparkle stick in life. He’s used to handling everything like they are dead animals. But with Shane it’s always different. As Shane keeps his eyes on Daryl’s he knows he’s blushing. It doesn’t really take a genius to interpret what he wants to do.
Shane strokes Daryl’s neck gently feeling him continue from where he left off, and watching the Archer avert his gaze and stroke Shane’s length with the pads of his fingers. The tiniest amount of pre-come pearls on the tip and dribbles down over Daryl’s fingers.
Daryl’s mouth feels dry, as he swallows nervously. He doesn’t want to, but he looks up at the former cop and their eyes lock, pupils dilated, and breathing ragged. Shane stares at Daryl, stepping closer, thrusting into his palm and leaning his forehead against Daryl’s.
“C’mon then, Baby,” Shane hisses, hand on Daryl’s shoulder, as he tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut.
Suddenly he feels exhilarated when he kneels down on the floor, dragging his palms over Shane’s chest, until his hands meet the fabric of his pants still clinging onto the brown eyed man’s hips. His dick stands up, in front of his eyes, and he licks his lips few times, before he leans closer, sticking his tongue out tentatively, giving the swollen cock a firm lick from the base to the very tip.
He feels Shane shudder underneath his fingers clutching his hips, steadying him in a form of control and comfort for himself.
His hand grips Shane’s cock, and slowly starts to stroke him up and down. Forcing himself to tear his eyes off of Shane’s shaft, he looks up at him, granting the former cop a very rare lopsided smirk. Shane’s chest glistens with sweat, the silver necklace ‘22’ sparkles as light hits it. He stares down at Daryl, his pupils dilated and his lips slightly parted as he pants heavily. He looks up, sliding his hand over the muscled plane of Shane’s abdomen, slowly stroking with same motions as he did a moment ago. His right hand wraps around the base of his shaft, as he leans closer, and slowly wraps his lips around the head, tasting the salty pre-come, tongue eagerly lapping against the soft sensitive skin.
“Daryl,” he moans, his eyes still squeezed shut, “Jesus fucking Christ…”
Daryl ignores his words, slowly stroking him and wiggling his head just a little, lips smacking around the thickness. He’s not the expert on this, he’s done it only a handful of times, and he’s not like Shane who’s comfortable in every situation he’s dropped in. But Shane’s reaction to his mouth and tongue on his dick are making Daryl feel proud all of a sudden.
Shane growls, his fingers squeezed into tight fists, fighting the natural urge to tangle his fingers into Daryl’s hair and hold onto his head. But he knows he can’t do it without making the Archer gag and slink back. He glances down at him, muscles in his stomach tightening at the sight.
“C’mon, Baby, ya don’ have to,” he starts, “Oh fucking Christ, your mouth’s so hot! Look at you, on your knees there…”
“Shut up, Five-O,” Daryl growls, looking up at Shane, “’m gonna suck this big, hard, beautiful cock that’s in my hand right now, and ya are gonna relax and lean back.”
It quivers in Daryl’s hand as he growls at Shane, and the man himself leaning against the cool wall, and hissing when the cool invades his heated skin.
“’m gonna blow ya ‘til ya explode in my mouth, and ‘m gonna drink every last drop of that delicious cum, got it?”
Shane moans, as Daryl squeezes a little tighter on an upstroke. His fingers curl around the broad shoulder of Daryl’s and he tilts his head, “Oh, fucking Christ,” he growls, “You make it so hard to be a good guy.”
Daryl looks up at Shane again, but arches his eyebrow. Shane has his problems for sure. They all do. But Daryl is not going to judge the one thing in his life that is good because of that.
“I don’ want ya to be a good guy, Shane,” he whispers, rubbing his thumb over the crown of his dick, watching come leaking over the finger.
He looked up at him, slowly leaning closer, then licking along the entire underside of his shaft again, eliciting a drawn out moan from Shane.
“Uhhh, fuck…” he groans, “God I love your mouth…”
Daryl’s lips wrap around him, sliding his mouth down until the head is inside his mouth, tongue flat against the underside. His head bobs up and down slowly, as he keeps varying the level of suction. He’s still unsure if he’s doing a good job, so when Shane moans he sticks with that technique for a while. He lets his tongue run smoothly over the sensitive skin, then twirls it around as much as he can. His twitching cock leaks a steady amount of pre-come by now, the salty liquid acting as a lubrication along with Daryl’s spit, that spills out of his mouth.
Shane brushes his palm over Daryl’s cheek, before he smoothes his hair back, looking into the blue eyes of the Archer. He pulls back, letting his dick pop out of his mouth, and quickly draws a few deep breaths, before he moves closer still, cupping Shane’s balls, and gently licking the smooth skin before wrapping his mouth around one, sucking it into his mouth.
Shane lets out another strangled moan, palm on Daryl’s head, as Daryl moves his attention over to the other, his hand blindly finding Shane’s cock again and stroking as he suckles both of his balls into his mouth.
“Oh, God, Baby… Tha’s it… Tha’s it…” Shane groans out loud, leaning against the wall, his head tilting backwards as his hips buck upwards instinctively. Daryl lavishes attention onto Shane’s balls for a moment until Shane is all but whimpering, and slowly pushing Daryl back. He takes the hint and moves back over to Shane’s throbbing dick, taking it in his mouth again, giving him few firm sucks.
Shane hardly lasts more than 20 seconds with the feeling of Daryl’s hot, wet mouth engulfing his cock, and he erupts in his mouth with a feral yell, that bounces and echoes off the walls for a good while. His fingers tangle into Daryl’s hair, as he pours into his mouth, and watches as he hungrily laps up like it was his last drink on earth, trying to steady his breathing at the same time.
“Jesus, Baby, the hell was that? Where’d ya learn to do that?” Shane breathes out, his voice a combination of exhaustion and pride, “Have ya been practicing with someone?” Shane grins.
Daryl sits back on his heels, looking up at Shane grumpily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Still a fucking jerk,” he growls.
Shane chuckles, grabbing the Archer’s hand and pulling him up from the floor, “Okay, I’m sorry.”
He murmurs something sweet under his breath, stepping closer, and moving in for a tentative kiss. Daryl meets his lips half way with his own, refusing to deepen the kiss at first, but then Shane pushes his tongue into his mouth makes him mewl out loud, and he feels Shane’s dick harden again at the sound. Shane shifts, and gently pulling Daryl’s arms up he places them back on the tiled wall.
“Please,” he breathes out, with that delightful sound of need bubbling underneath his words. Daryl’s desperate to come, especially now that Shane has reached a climax himself.
“Lean against the wall,” Shane urges, gently guiding Daryl to turn around, and propping his forearms against the coolness of the tiles. His hands squeeze into fists as he hangs his head down, feeling Shane step behind him. He expects Shane to lower his jeans, anything really, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans over, brushing his hair aside, his body pressing against Daryl’s back. The stubble on Shane’s cheek rubs against the shoulder, as his teeth graze over the skin, placing few kisses onto his shoulder, before suckling one spot on his neck.
Daryl’s back arches, he bends his head down. Shane sighs contently, smoothing his palms over the broad shoulders, magnificent arms, and then stroking his sides with a gentle touch. He kisses his way down from Daryl’s shoulders over the tattoo on his shoulder blade. He traces the outlines of each and every one of his scars, kisses them because he can, and because they don’t make Daryl any less desirable in his eyes. Daryl moans, arching his body more, his ass grinding against Shane’s throbbing dick.
“C’mon, man, ‘m not gonna… ‘m not gonna last,” Daryl whimpers, shuddering.
“Shh, you will,” Shane whispers, “You can do that for me, can’t you?”
He slips his right hand onto Daryl’s cheek, bringing two fingers onto Daryl’s lips. He strokes his lips few times, before he pushes them inside. Daryl latches onto them quickly, tongue twirling around them, and saliva pooling in his mouth, and then dribbling onto his fingers.
Shane’s left hand finds the waistband of his jeans again, and he traces it around his waist.
“Nuhhh…” Daryl mewls out loud, sucking Shane’s fingers as he turns his head enough to look at the older man with a side eye.
“You’re doing so well, Baby,” Shane whispers, “You can keep this up for a little while longer,” his words are like an ice cube on his hot skin, as Shane keeps maneuvering Daryl’s pants down with his free hand. He nuzzles his neck, inhaling his scent, his thumb still stroking Daryl’s cheek.
“Gotta get you prepared, can’t fuck you raw, Baby,” Shane murmurs, “Get those fingers nice and wet, and I’m gonna make you cum so good.”
There’s saliva dribbling down Shane’s palm when he pulls his hand from Daryl’s face, fingers leaving his mouth with an audible ‘pop’.
“’s too much, Shane,” Daryl whispers in a shudder, tongue sliding over Shane’s index finger, and teeth grazing the rough skin, “Jus’ wanna cum…”
Shane stops his movements, Daryl’s jeans only barely down to his thighs. He looks down admiring the slope and curve of his back and that perfect ass he can’t get enough of. He presses his knuckles against Daryl’s spine and runs his hand down. The muscles on Daryl’s back ripple and contract, and he hums out loud at the contact. Sweat pearls trickle down his back slowly, when Shane’s palms make contact with the fleshy cheeks of Daryl’s ass.
“What do you want me to do, Daryl?” he inquires with a husky tone, stubble scratching Daryl’s ear, “Tell me what do you want.”
“C’mon, man,” Daryl hisses, “Ya just love teasing, can’t help yourself…”
“Never,” Shane muses, “Never with you.”
“Shane,” Daryl whimpers, pleads, and thrusts his ass towards Shane in a not-subtle manner, when Shane shifts behind him, squeezing his ass tightly, “You want me to fuck this tight ass of yours?” he asks huskily.
Daryl nods, unable to speak out in his desperation that leaves him breathless.
“Look at you, so horny for a good fuck,” Shane’s voice fills Daryl’s ears, and all his senses. The taller man bends forward, kissing Daryl’s shoulders. Daryl grits his teeth, biting his tongue, as Shane continues to explore every inch of his back, hands caressing his back, before he moves his left hand over his abdomen, groping Daryl’s ass with his right.
“You want me to fuck you, Daryl?” he whispers a question, before he lowers himself down onto his knees on the cool concrete floor.
“Y-Yes, Shane,” Daryl nods, eyes closed, bracing his forearms against the tile wall.
“Don’t touch yourself,” he says huskily, as he starts to tug his jeans down slow, helping Daryl to step out of them. Daryl keeps his eyes squeezed shut, biting the inside of his cheek, and letting out tiny whimpers. He feels Shane’s breath on his ass, tickling his skin. The former cop chuckles softly, lovingly, before he leans closer, nipping the soft, tender flesh and make Daryl arch his back. Shane’s palms slide over his thighs, trace the little snake tattooed on his left thigh, gently running up the insides, and Daryl can almost feel the heat of Shane’s palms touch his sac and throbbing cock. But again he’s left with disappointment flushing over him.
“You like that, Daryl? Huh? You like me touching you like this?”
“Y-You’re n-not…” Daryl whines, because Shane is really not touching him, he’s just teasing, “Jesus, Shane, ya just teasing me!” Daryl barks out loud his frustration.
“Oh, what’s the matter, Daryl?” Shane asks, his stubble scraping against the sensitive skin of Daryl’s ass, his fingers digging into the flesh, “You don’t like that?” Shane let’s out a throaty chuckle, “Tell me what you want, Baby.”
“Fuck me, now,” Daryl growls, and then his growl turns into a groan at the feeling of Shane’s fingers spreading his ass cheeks slowly.
Shane growls. He wants to fuck Daryl right now. He wants to feel the tightness around his shaft, when he pushes deeper into the Archer, and feels him squirm. He palms his own crotch and moans out loud.
“Shh, just enjoy, Baby,” Shane chuckles, and shuffles closer, settling himself directly behind Daryl, gently spreading his thighs more, “Remember, gotta get you all warmed up?”
The muscles on Daryl’s lower back contract, his back arches more, and he has to fight to keep his knees from buckling, when Shane’s tongue presses against his ass, “Oh, god…” he groans, fingernails scraping against the white tiles.
Shane eases Daryl into it, probably realizing that Daryl was truly on the edge, and it was an attack against all the nerves and senses of his. After the first lick, he slows down, teasing Daryl slowly, kneading his ass cheeks with his hands, before he moved to cup his sac with a light touch. Daryl throws his head back, moaning out loud, his cock throbbing. He lowers his head, arms straining to keep him upright position, as he licks his lips and tries to will himself to stay still, and ignore the fact that he is desperate to come in any way. Shane shifts again behind Daryl, his hand running from his balls up to the shaft of his strained cock and Daryl can barely keep himself standing when the jerk of pleasure travels through his spine, before registering in his brain.
Shane keeps kneading his ass, planting small kisses along the globes as goes on, running his tongue the entire length of his crack, and it makes Daryl shudder violently as he moves on to tease the sensitive skin around the puckered, tight hole. He ministers open mouthed kisses and licks, tongue probing against the hole few times.
Daryl licks his lips again, whimpering in a blissful state of mind, when he hears Shane spitting. The cool liquid drops through the crack, and within seconds Shane’s face presses against Daryl’s ass, tongue lapping over his entrance. He steadies the Hunter’s bucking hips, listening to his delightful whimpers.
“Are you okay, Baby?” Shane murmurs, moving his mouth off of that tight hole, but quickly replacing it with his finger, gently massaging the pink skin around and round.
“D-Don’t stop,” Daryl practically cries out loud, so lost in the sensation, and the pleasure, that he couldn’t control himself any longer, “Please, jus’ like that… jus’ like that… don’t stop…” he continues to chant.
Shane’s response to Daryl’s sudden begging is to chuckle throatily, something that sparks right through Daryl, and then, attack his ass again with renewed vigor. He feels Daryl’s legs trembling, his upper body straining, him willing his whole body to stand still, as his tongue draws circles and stripes, squares and triangles, and God knows what else. He spreads his cheeks further apart, tongue diving against the puckered hole. His lips smack wetly around the tight ring of muscles, tongue lashing out few times.
“Does it feel good, Daryl?” Shane whispers, pulling back, wet tip of his finger pressing firmly against the tightness, and then slowly pushing inside of him. The burning feeling subsides quickly, but Daryl clenches around Shane’s finger nevertheless. Shane strokes gently his back, thumb rubbing over the coccyx, “Relax, Baby,” he murmurs softly, “We don’t have to hurry. I want you to feel good.”
His voice washes over Daryl slowly, he takes a few deep breaths to relax. Shane’s finger rubs gently the insides until the muscles relaxed around it. He slides it in and out in a slow, sensual rhythm that leaves Daryl squirming and mutter words that made no sense into his arm he rests his face against. Shane continues to soothe Daryl and rubbing his back, as he slowly rotates his finger, planting light kisses along Daryl’s spine.
“S-Shane, god, please more… jus’ like that, don’t stop,” Daryl whines, begging.
“You sure, Baby?” Shane inquires, standing up slowly, licking a wet trail all the way up to between Daryl’s shoulder blades, making him shiver at his touch.
“Yes, Shane, please stop teasing me,” he moans a reply, arching his back. The words barely leave his mouth before Shane slides another finger in to join the first, stretching, filling Daryl to the brim, scissoring them, and slowly twisting them. He wiggles his fingers, pushing them deeper, as he grinds his own throbbing crotch against Daryl’s ass, moving his hand down over his chest and pressing the abdomen gently. Daryl twitches, thrusting himself against Shane’s fingers and his body, hoping to find enough stability from his lover’s body to prevent him from falling down on the floor.
“It’s alright, I just wanna make you feel good,” Shane whispers, smiling against Daryl’s neck, slowly stroking his abdomen with his knuckles, listening to his uneven breathing, watching the strained muscles tensing as his body is wrecked through and through with waves of pleasure.
Shane’s fingers keep moving in and out, he twists them, and scissors them slowly, searching for that one, sweet spot inside of him. He knows where to find it, he’s done it so many times to Daryl, and he smiles knowingly when Daryl spreads his legs just a little bit more, and throws his head back.
When Shane’s fingers brush up against that soft bundle of nerves, Daryl lets out a strained moan. He thrusts his ass against Shane and his fingers, his head resting against Shane’s shoulder. Shane repeats the motion to brush over the prostate, over and over again, making Daryl squirm and pour a slew of curses from his mouth. Shane grinds against Daryl’s body, exhilarated about how Daryl’s reacting to his touch.
“S-Shane, I c-can’t…” Daryl babbles, suddenly clutching the arm Shane has placed on his abdomen, and being so lost in the pleasure he can barely contain himself.
“C’mon, Baby, you’re doing so good. C’mon, come for me,” Shane demands lovingly, pumping his fingers faster and harder. The tightness of Daryl’s ass had long since given way to an insurmountable amount of pleasure that makes Daryl thrash in Shane’s arms. His breathing uneven, shallow and his eyes squeezed shut, he moans wildly.
“Baby, come for me,” Shane coaxes, “I want to see that beautiful face when you explode.”
He moans his words out too, he is desperate for his own release as well, but he wants Daryl to come in front of him, something he loved watching.
“’m gonna…” Daryl whimpers, shuddering when Shane nibbles his ear.
“Yeah, c’mon, Baby, you can do it. You can do it for me.”
The feeling of teetering on the edge, hearing Shane’s voice, feeling his breath on his skin, his fingers inside of him, and yet not touching the aching cock of his, all was too delicious for Daryl to bear.
Shane’s fingers slide just above Daryl’s bobbing cock, pressing gently against the lower abdomen in time with the thrusts of his fingers into his ass, brushing against his prostate, he falls over the edge, with a low, drawn out growl that turns into a howl of release.
Come splatters on the white tiles of the shower wall, some splashing onto his thighs, as his cock bobs up and down without being touched. Shane murmurs soft, silly sweet nothings into his ear, soothing his climb into the heights of release and the slow, satisfying descent back down into the shower room, and into Shane’s arms.
It takes a while for him to come down from his high, but Shane doesn’t let go of him. When his breathing becomes less uneven and slows down to mostly normal, Shane eases his fingers from his ass with a muffled pop. Daryl squirms a little, instantly feeling empty, like a part of him was missing.
“Mhmm, that was good, wasn’t it?” Shane whispers a question he’s really not expecting an answer. He looks at Daryl, whose breathing is ragged, and he’s trying to control it, gather his thoughts which are still somewhere far above this earth. He groans, when Shane shifts a little, gently turning him around, and then brushing his hair out of his face. He doesn’t think he can form any coherent thoughts at the moment, so he stays quiet, looking at Shane.
The former cop leans over, but not to kiss Daryl, as he thinks first, turning his head awkwardly as he tries to follow his lips. Shane chuckles a little, as he turns on the shower, lukewarm water pouring weakly onto them. Having a poor water pressure was better than no water pressure at all. On their sweat slick, heated skins the water feels as if it was icicles, and they both hiss out loud, shaking their heads like a wet dog.
“Small delights,” Shane says, shrugging a little, before he looks at Daryl lovingly. The Hunter’s hair soaks quickly, wet tendrils of hair sticking onto his face, flat against his scalp. The wet look makes Shane chuckle at the grumpy Archer, before he smoothes his brown hair back, revealing the bright blue eyes, glaring at him.
“Much better,” he grins, winking and reaches for the soap.
“Quit it,” Daryl growls a little, but Shane can see the blush tint his cheeks.
He supports Daryl with one hand, as his other hand works the soap over his upper body. He lathers and smoothes the soap over Daryl’s arms, and lets the suds run slowly down to his chest and back. Daryl’s muscles ripple, vibrating from the familiar, yet unfamiliar, feel of the soap and water and gentle touch when Shane’s hands rub over the old scars. The water cascades down Daryl’s back, and between his smooth ass cheeks, and Shane can’t stop himself from teasing Daryl a little bit more, by pulling those fleshy mounds apart, and letting the water and soap run over the puckered hole.
Daryl’s eyes slam shut, and he bites his bottom lip, breathing hitching into his throat. Shane’s cock nestles between Daryl’s slick ass cheeks, and his hips gyrate making his under shaft slide up and down in the cleft. Daryl lets out a soft whimper, tiny mewl, at the feeling of Shane’s hot flesh rubbing against his slick, hot skin. It sends bolts of electricity through his body, making his eyes roll and toes curl out of excitement.
He knows how much Shane loves to push boundaries, how much he enjoys making Daryl feel the heightened pleasure over and over again, until he’s too spent to move. But he also knows that he’d never force anything on Daryl he didn’t want.
And right now, Daryl can only think of one thing.
He just came hard, without his cock being touched, he’s still delightfully numb, but already he can feel the familiar feeling churning inside of the pit of his stomach, and he can feel most of his blood rushing down south. His senses are still heightened, his cock still aching and feeling too sensitive to touch, but he can’t wait any longer.
“Fuck me,” he breathes, his voice cracking, “Please, Shane, just fuck me.”
Shane groans, biting his bottom lip. He thrusts his twitching dick against Daryl’s ass cheeks, feeling it slide against and between the cleft, and feeling the Hunter squeeze them together.
“Jesus, Daryl, you’re making me all hard for you again,” he moans.
“Shane… please…” Daryl whines, because he doesn’t think he can take this much more. He’s aching with want. Shane’s dick is already hard again, and he’s grinding himself against the firm globes of Daryl’s ass with a slow, unhurried pace. But instead of giving them both what they are wanting for, he continues to wash Daryl.
He takes his sweet time and tries to tune out Daryl’s frustrated whimpers. It’s not long until he’s Daryl soaped from head to toes, and he moves to scrub the Hunter’s hair with something he suspects is shampoo. He switches the soap into Daryl’s hand and bobs his head a little. Grouchily Daryl starts to do the same, while Shane runs his fingers through his hair, over and over again. Finger tips massage his scalp, lathering the shampoo, thumbs resting on his temples, as he scrubs Daryl’s unruly hair clean from all the muck. He frowns just a bit, thinking that one time he found walker guts on Daryl’s head after they had to fight through a small band of merry walkers.
Daryl runs the soap all over Shane’s chest with much more jerkier motions. He’s afraid he’s doing something wrong, but after a while he finds himself being mesmerized by Shane’s pecs, and the tattoo over his chest. He watches the soap bubbles run over the ink and he follows suit, tracing the lines and thumbing over the pebbled nipple. Shane’s hiss makes him bite his bottom lip fiercely.
“Aren’t ya an eager beaver,” Shane growls a little, his hand wandering now down on Daryl’s body realizing that his cock is hard again.
His hand slides over Daryl’s stomach, and he feels the muscles clench and ripple. Soapy slick fingers glide easily over the taut flesh of Daryl’s aching cock. Shane wraps his hand around the shaft tightly, giving a torturously slow stroke, and watching Daryl’s face slowly unravel into a blissful pleasure.
“Unnnhh…” he moans, throwing his head back, eyes squeezing shut.
His moan makes Shane’s skin crawl, but he smirks quickly, and stops touching Daryl as quickly as he started, and pushes the man under the spray of water determined. Daryl growls in reluctance for a moment, but Shane’s palms flat against his ass, squeezing stop him.
“You have no idea how fucking hot you’re making me,” Shane hisses into Daryl’s ear, and all Daryl can feel is Shane’s cock twitching against his thigh.
“Shane… now, please, can’t do this… I need more,” Daryl babbles, desperation too much in his voice. He buries his face into his neck, licking and nibbling and sucking at the skin there. Shane slides his palms from his ass over his back, his fingernails raking over his skin, and digging in deeply when Daryl nips at Shane’s clavicle. Shane scrapes his nails lower, along the entire frame of Daryl’s, until he arrives at the tapered tops of Daryl’s ass.
He brings his attention there, and begins to knead, enjoying the soft moans of pleasure Daryl lets out. Shane’s fingertips play across his cheeks, and slowly find their way to Daryl’s crack, and there, they slip up and down again and again, teasing his Archer. He spreads his cheeks apart slightly, running his fingers over the teased and throbbing entrance. Shane looks at Daryl, intently, as he slides and wiggles his index finger over and over of the puckered tightness. He keeps his eyes trained on Daryl, and smirks at the pure ecstasy that is written all over Daryl’s face, when their cocks rub together, and Shane’s fingers keep teasing his ass.
He leans forward, assaulting Daryl’s mouth, slanting his mouth over Daryl’s lips, and sucking in his bottom lip. He keeps exploring Daryl’s ass with his fingers, and swallows each and every sound of Daryl’s surprised yelps and heated groans. One finger circles around Daryl’s asshole, grazing over it but not giving in to what Daryl’s actually begging for.
“S-Shane, please,” Daryl whimpers, begging, against Shane’s lips. The water splashes onto them, Daryl leans against Shane’s chest, panting as they both breathe the same air.
Daryl almost begs again, promises Shane anything at all if he fucks him, when he feels Shane’s finger cautiously press into the center of the puckered hole, and watches intently at the reaction of the Hunter. His eyes roll, his mouth hangs open, and he groans out loud. He wants him to continue so much, he wants to feel Shane shove his dick inside of him.
A satisfied, yet tender look spreads on Shane’s face, and he continues ever so slowly to fill Daryl’s ass, with his finger. He moves his finger around inside of him, before he pulls it back slightly and then plunges it back in. He establishes an excruciating rhythm with his finger, and watches Daryl’s eyes slam shut, him wrapping his arms around his shoulders, clutching onto him, whimpering against his neck, and craving for a second one.
“Yeah, you want more, Baby?” Shane whispers, as Daryl leans against him, any control he’d had over his own body and reactions waning, thin and feeble against Shane’s skillful hands.
“C’mon, Baby,” Shane murmurs, his palm sliding over his thigh, and pulling his leg up, his knee against Shane’s hip.
“Y-Yeah… Sh-Shane,” Daryl groans, struggling to keep his balance, as he readjusts himself.
Shane grabs the backs of his thighs, hoisting him up, and Daryl’s back slams against the wall, his legs wrapping around Shane’s waist.
“Jesus Christ…” Shane groans, his fingers digging into the flesh of Daryl’s ass, his hips bucking instinctively against him. Shane’s cock pokes and rubs against the cleft, and he feels frantic, desperate to have himself planted firmly and deep inside Daryl, no matter what. Daryl’s fingers clutch Shane’s shoulder and bicep, feeling the former cop’s muscles strain and ripple underneath. The strength in Shane’s arms makes Daryl shiver, his back arches, as Shane balances him on his arms, pressed against the tiled wall, and maneuvers Daryl slightly lower, panting heavily, as he guides the pre-cum dripping tip of his dick against the tight entrance.
“Ready, Baby?” Shane whispers, voice raspy, words strained, as he balances Daryl and himself. It’s a straining position, Daryl’s other leg wrapped around Shane’s waist, right leg hooked over Shane’s arm as he keeps the control to himself.
Daryl’s fingers dig deeper into the flesh of his shoulders, as he hiccups, “Y-Yes, God, yes… Shane, stop teasing me!”
Shane bounces him once, slapping his ass with his palm, before he presses Daryl against the wall again. His fingers dig in deep, as he slowly pushes, Daryl’s back arching, and lets out a long whimper, as the throbbing cock enters the tightness of Daryl’s ass. Shane growls thrusting his hips jerkily, and claiming Daryl’s mouth with his lips. The kiss is sloppy and greedy, and full of lust, water splashing around them, as Shane continues to fuck into him with unhurried thrusts.
Daryl’s ass tightens around Shane’s shaft, and it makes him groan with equal parts of lust and weakness; because the Archer was his only weakness.
Gradually thrusting deeper, he bottoms out in Daryl with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself to stay still for a moment, enjoying the small spasms Daryl makes around him. He leans forward, resting his forehead against Daryl’s shoulder, fingernails digging into his skin as he groans at the tight feeling.
“S-Shane… pl-please… m-move! ‘m not gonna break!” he growls, losing his patience with Shane’s slow pace, “Jesus, Shane ‘m fine! It don’t hurt none, it feels good!” he hisses, and then lets out a low moan, that rumbles through his chest. He wiggles his body a little, making Shane moan out loud, and then clutch onto him tighter. Last pieces of resistance Shane has to go slow, to enjoy every second of this, to enjoy every inch of Daryl’s body, melts away, and he starts to freely pump in and out of him. Daryl cries out, his head dipping back, as Shane picks up his speed. He swears roughly, his balls slapping against Daryl’s ass, stinging exquisitely. He feels the burn in the muscles of his arms, and legs, and tries to ignore the slight burning in his lungs. All he wants is to come deep inside his lover.
Daryl shudders, grinding his hips, meeting the thrusts of Shane’s, and groaning with each hard shove of Shane’s dick against his prostate. He clutches onto Shane’s shoulders still, his legs bouncing as the former cop holds onto him.
“D-Daryl… Daryl…” Shane chants against Daryl’s neck, feeling Shane shift. Skin slides against skin, water pours over their bodies, as Shane moves quickly, without missing a beat, and lowers them both on the floor.
Shane falls onto his knees, tilting them both forward, and Daryl lets go of Shane momentarily and stops himself from falling by propping himself upright with his arms. Shane holds onto his thighs, and keeps his legs locked around his waist, supporting his body by holding onto him for dear life. He moves, crawling on his knees and thrusts harder all of a sudden, and Daryl groans out loud.
It takes a moment for them to readjust to the new position, but then Shane pulls Daryl onto his lap, as he leans backwards, sitting down on the floor, gathering the Archer in his arms. Daryl’s back arches forward when Shane lowers him down onto his cock. His palms scrape against the floor, Shane’s finger dig into his hips, thumbs pressing tightly against his abdomen, making him tighten his muscles. Daryl’s body shudders, he bucks his ass down to meet the eager thrusts of his lover, and moans as Shane rams into him deliciously.
The feeling of Shane’s thickness rubbing against the insides, against the prostate is almost too much to bear. His hips grind in a slow circular motion, as he reciprocates each of Shane’s thrusts.
He whimpers, blindly seeking anything to hold onto. His fingers slide over the cool tiles, and other hand curls around the back of Shane’s neck.
“S-Shane, Shane… Shane!” he chants, bucking against the thrusts, “’s too much, S-Shane…” he whines out loud.
“Jesus, Baby you feel so good,” Shane growls, looking at Daryl hungrily, “So fucking good. Tight… mmhmm..”
He kisses Daryl again, attacking his mouth almost brutally, as he slides the hand he’s been holding against the small of Daryl’s back, to draw lazy circles over the coccyx. Daryl cries out loud, and pushes his tongue against Shane’s, twirling it around his mouth.
“Unnnhh…” Daryl moans into Shane’s mouth, his eyes tightly shut, before the older man pulls back, sliding his hand between their bodies and over Daryl’s chest, pinching his nipples, watching them pebble up again and how Daryl’s face contorts in sudden twinge of pain but then melts in excruciating pleasure.
He pounds into Daryl even quicker, making loud, rasping noises at the feeling of Daryl squeezing his dick like a vice.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh and Daryl’s appreciative moans fill the shower room. Shane growls, sliding his hand down the broad chest he searches quickly for the aching member of Daryl’s and gently, slowly, runs his fingertips over it. The Archer all but howls out loud at the contact of Shane’s finger tips touching the sensitive skin.
“Yes… Shane.. ‘m gonna, gonna cum…” he whimpers, his toes curling.
“Yeah? Gonna cum for me?” Shane pants, watching Daryl bounce on his cock, as he teases his.
“S-Shane… ‘s too m-much, can’t…” Daryl whines now, his face red, body contorting, breathing brokenly.
The sounds Daryl is making brings Shane closer and closer to the edge, and he tries to fight the feeling of falling over the edge and into the abyss.
“Baby, I’m so fucking close,” he hisses through gritted teeth; his skin burning up and his face red, too.
“’m.. ‘m cumming, Shane!! SHANE!” Daryl screams with a mixture of curses shouted out into the shower room.
A few hard, rapid thrusts later Shane follows over that cliff, grunting out loud. He tips them down on the floor, Daryl pinned underneath Shane’s frame, as he nuzzles the Archer’s neck, planting small kisses on his neck and cheek, before he claims his lips into a tender kiss.
They both lay on the floor, panting and moaning, neither of them able to move away from one another. Shane’s not sure if they could move even if they wanted to, because he feels his legs are made out of Jell-O, and he feels unhinged. As Daryl shifts, he makes Shane cry out, his cock still firmly inside of Daryl, and too sensitive to touch.
“Jesus,” he whispers a moment later when he pulls back and looks at the breathless Archer underneath him, and smiles.
“You can call me Daryl,” he replies and Shane bursts into laughter.