
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/376433.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Walking_Dead_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Daryl_Dixon/Merle_Dixon
  Character:
      Merle_Dixon, Daryl_Dixon
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-04-06 Words: 1439
****** Show Me How ******
by veiledndarkness
Summary
     What Merle says, goes. Written for the twd_kinkmeme on Livejournal.
Notes
     Written for the twd_kinkmeme prompt: Merle is drunk and makes
     slightly underage Daryl put on a show for him.
He hears the command but he doesn’t quite believe it.
He can smell the booze floating from his brother and it makes his nose wrinkle,
the odour is that pungent. Merle’s drunk, oh Christ is he ever, and he’s got
that look on his face, and nothin’ good ever comes from that look and he knows
better than to repeat what his brother said, but he really doesn’t believe it.
“What…?”
“I know you ain’t that thick, boy,” Merle slurs at him. He points to the worn
rug before the couch and his eyes are gleaming in a way that makes Daryl want
to cross his arms over his chest protectively. “You get on down there; give me
a damn good show.”
He can’t help but stare at Merle, his eyes wide. Instinctively, he wants to
refuse but Merle’s right there an’ he isn’t above using his fists on him for
sayin’ ‘no’. He feels naked already from the way Merle’s leering at him.
“Don’ make me repeat m’self,” Merle growls and he clenches one fist at his side
threateningly. “I wanna see ya do it, I heard you ‘nuff times before.”
Oh Jesus, let the ground swallow him whole…Daryl’s ears burn in embarrassment.
And here he thought he’d been stealthy enough, quiet enough to keep Merle from
hearin’ him late at night, but who had he been foolin’ when their army cot
style beds were practically beside each other?
“Ahh, don’ be like that, Darleen,” Merle laughs uproariously, slapping one big
hand on his knee. “S’normal to wanna touch yerself, now you’re gonna g’on an’
show me how ya do it.”
Daryl swallows over the lump in his throat and his ears are still burning. He
wipes his sweaty hands on his t-shirt, hesitating. He can’t, he just…there’s a
sick feeling in his stomach and he wants to run out of their trailer an’ maybe
Merle won’t be able to catch him, he’s awful drunk as it is…but Merle’s meaner
than their Pa ever was, twice as fast an’ he hits way harder.
“The fuck ya waitin’ for? Strip off, boy.”
With trembling fingers, he reaches for the hem of his t-shirt and drags it up.
He doesn’t want to do this, but Merle’s watchin’ him expectantly and there’s no
escape, not really. Daryl swallows again and the lump is still there as he
pulls the shirt up and over his head. He lets it fall to the rug and resists
the urge to keep from coverin’ his chest with his arms.
Merle nods once in approval. “Take them pants off.”
Daryl fumbles with the belt to his jeans and his fingers feel numb as he unzips
and strips the material off. He kicks his jeans and shorts off to the side and
stares down at the rug, tracing the patterns he’s long since memorized over the
years with his eyes and if his knees are weak, it’s only because of how Merle
is still staring at him and he’s starting to feel a flush of something deep in
his belly.
“There now, ain’t that a pretty sight,” Merle croons and he rubs one hand over
the growing bulge in his own pants.
Daryl’s ears burn and he can feel the heat traveling down his ears and into his
neck. He swallows and swallows and his skin is prickling. “I…what uh, should
I…” he mumbles into his chest, unable to look Merle in the eyes.
“Wantcha to do what you been doin’ at night,” Merle says and his voice is rough
and familiar to Daryl, the way he sounds when he brings a girl home now and
again an’ Daryl has to stare at the wall, pretendin’ he can’t hear Merle
fucking them into the squeaky mattress.
Daryl bites his lower lip between his teeth and runs a hand over his chest,
navigating the area between his various scars with ease. He closes his eyes and
thinks maybe he can pretend that Merle isn’t watchin’. That he’s alone in his
bed and has the night to himself, and he lightly pinches a nipple, tweaking it
just the way he likes, feeling the bolt of arousal start to flash through him.
He tries his best to ignore the sound of his brother’s heavy breathing in front
of him and focuses on touching himself, his hands smoothing an’ strokin’ over
his chest and stomach, moving down to touch his still mostly soft cock.
“Yeah,” Merle says and the sound is so familiar from all those nights where
Daryl’s been the unwilling listener that he feels a flicker of true arousal
break through and he cups his cock as it starts to swell with interest.
“Like that,” Merle whispers thickly, “Nice n’ slow.”
Daryl blinks, broken from his internal thoughts, and he sees the hungry look on
his brother’s face. He forgets to feel ashamed as he strokes his cock, feeling
it pulse and grow in his hand and the way Merle’s starin’ is making him feel
dizzy. He hitches in a breath and curves his fingers ‘round the base, stroking
with a firmer grip.
And he’s lost from there, he drops to his knees and moves his hand steadily,
his other hand wanderin’ back up to his chest to rub and pinch at his nipples
and he’s breathing harder, feeling his heart beat in his ears.
He can hear Merle’s breathing and the way he’s makin’ all those sounds and it
occurs to him that Merle’s gettin’ off on this and oh God, his stomach twists
as desire slams into the base of his spine. He curves his wrist, twisting it
slightly over the head of his cock and he gasps when he does, pre-cum coating
his fingers.
“Go lower,” Merle rasps and Daryl doesn’t hesitate, he moves his hand away from
his chest, down between his thighs. “G’on, right there…”
He strokes a hand over one thigh and feels the muscles shake. “Oh God,” he
whispers, gripping his cock with his other hand tightly to keep from coming
right then and there.
“Suck yer fingers,” Merle demands suddenly and as if in a trance, Daryl does
so, parting his lips and sucking two fingers into his mouth, his tongue
flicking against them obediently.
He wets them and even though his face is burning, he lowers them back down
between his thighs. He knows what Merle wants him to do and it doesn’t matter
that he’s not really sure how to do it.
“Rub ‘em over it,” he hears and he does so, his hips bucking as if by their own
will.
Daryl hears a soft keening comin’ from his own throat and he rubs in a slow
circle with his spit-slick fingers, teasingly until he feels a raw wave of
longing rush through him. He wants more, he needs more and a part of his brain
wants Merle to fuck him through the floor the way he does with those girls,
fuck him as roughly as he wants to, and he can’t help the little needy sounds
that he makes as he pushes one finger up inside slightly.
His mouth falls open and he’s squirming, unable to stay still, his hand moving
over his cock faster than before. He shudders and locks eyes with Merle, his
hips bucking forward again and Merle’s lickin’ his lips like he wants to eat
him up.
“P-Please,” he croaks, teetering on the edge of release. He’s tensed; his spine
is tinglin’ right down to his toes.
Merle smirks at him but there’s love in his eyes and Daryl wants to cry or come
and it feels too damn good. “I can’t…Merle,” he whines low in his throat. He
curves his finger suddenly, brushing over somethin’ inside and that’s it,
Jesus, he sees stars as he comes, he’s damn near howling as his orgasm rips
through him, flowing down over his still moving fist.
And when it ends, he’s shaking, kneelin’ on the rug and panting for air, his
face flushed, lips pink and puffy from being bitten. Merle rubs the wet spot on
his pants and he’s keepin’ his eyes locked on Daryl, a look of banked hunger
still in them.
“C’mere,” he says, pattin’ his lap and Daryl moves to him without thinking
about it, sitting down on Merle, his chest hitching with unsteady breaths.
Merle takes Daryl’s hand in his own and he whimpers when he feels Merle’s
tongue flicking over his fingers, cleaning them, one by one. He can smell the
alcohol but he doesn’t mind it as much when Merle’s holdin’ him like this.
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