Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1443211.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Walking_Dead_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Daryl_Dixon/Merle_Dixon
  Character:
      Daryl_Dixon, Merle_Dixon, Rick_Grimes
  Additional Tags:
      Incest, Sibling_Incest, Shoplifting, Kleptomania, kleptomania_kink,
      Masturbation, Smut, Embarrassment, Verbal_Humiliation, Dirty_Talk, First
      Time, Public_Sex, daryl_is_a_teen!AU, Domestic, Pre-Apocalypse
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-04-10 Chapters: 1/? Words: 4108
****** It feels right ******
by cannibalbat
Summary
     After being kicked out by their parents Daryl and Merle have to live
     on their own, they're always short on money and food is running low.
     Eventually Merle ended up teaching Daryl how to steal. First it took
     him some effort but after a short time he becomes addicted to it. The
     feeling brings more to him than general excitement and he can't
     control his sex drive anymore. Instead of helping, Merle is taking
     advantage of his horny baby brother who developed a kink for
     shoplifting.
Notes
     Hello everyone!
     Phew, so this will be my first on going fanfiction series in english!
     I hope I don't die trying.
     This fic is tagged as underage since Daryl is around 15~17 years old,
     keep that in mind :)
     Aaaand again I want to thank my wonderful BETA and friend Loulou ~
     Shes so perfect and without her I wouldn't be doing this!
     Please check out her Dixcest fics, shes just glooorious!
     I don't know how many chapters this fiction is going to take, maybe
     about 3, maybe more.
     Hopefully you'll enjoy this pretty long first chapter and please
     forgive me if there are still mistakes~
     Love love,
     Nana ♥
Dry leafs crunched underneath Daryls feet. He could smell the rotten tree
trunks and the fresh blood of the last squirrel on his hands. He was far into
the forest, the dashing cars on the highway were already visible, but he didn't
hear them, didn't see them. He only heard his own heartbeat and the hesitant
movements of the rabbit in front of him, who seemed to hop in slow motion to
his eye. The crossbow was already aimed at the creatures neck, it was only two
seconds away from his death. What a majestic rabbit it was. Quite a big one,
but too skinny. It would only be good enough for a soup. Daryl and his brother
Merle were eating soup for at least three weeks, or that's what it felt like.
Since their parents kicked them out, they were living at their limits. He
couldn't even remember the last time they paid their rent. Merle said the guy
who owned the apartment was a meth addict and no big threat, but Daryl felt
like sooner or later he would cause them problems.
There went his chance. The rabbit was gone, suddenly he heard the car engines,
the honks that drowned out the sound of his heart. Thinking about their
situation always got him deepen in worry and lacking concentration. A silent
sigh escaped his lips and his head started to hurt from the ear-deafening
highway noise and the weary thoughts. Before he could release himself from his
duty, he checked today's prey. Three squirrels, a poor achievement. In his
defense, one of them was really fat. Even though he knew he shouldn't, he
started to make his way home. It was useless, trying to hunt with no motivation
and a headache.
He stared down at his feet while heading home. One of his shoe soles was loose,
always flapping up and down while walking. He had owned those shoes for about
three years now and they were way too small. Each of them had holes on the big
toe, not to mention the dirt. Daryl remembered that they were too big when he
got them and (of course) used. Over those three years he grew so much, nearly
everything of his clothes was either too small or had always been too big.
Being the poor kid in high school had always been a pain in the ass but pretty
much everyone in the neighborhood and his school knew not to fuck around with
him, after being beaten up to unconsciousness by his brother.
They found new victims easily, high school was full of potential victims. But
that left him ignored and alone. Like he cared, he skipped school almost every
day anyways. Spending most of his time in the forest, he forgot he was alone
unintentionally.
And he liked the feeling that there was always somebody home, whenever he
returned late. The bigger was the disappointment when there was nobody, when
Merle was gone without a hint of his whereabouts. Those nights he stayed alone
in his room, sitting on his bed awake. The fear of Merle not returning was too
big, it possessed him.
Whenever he heard the door lock being turned and his brother weaving in, he let
himself fall back in his pillow and pretended to be asleep. His brother would
check on him and the sound of him breathing close to his face was the most
calming thing in the world to Daryl.
Because it meant that no matter how often he'd leave him, in the end he'd
always return to check how Daryl's doing. Merle could play the cool guy who
doesn't give a fuck about anything as long as he wanted, but Daryl knew that he
cared about him. He cared about his baby brother more than anything, even if he
rarely showed, trying to keep his poker face. Never show any weakness, don't be
a pussy, be a man.
Daryl smiled thinking about those harsh words that came out of the mouth of the
same man who'd always check his little brothers bed after coming home, no
matter how drunk or stoned he was.
 
The ripping sound of fabric that echoed through the forest made him realize how
little attention he had been paying. He stopped and looked down. The loose sole
on his shoe got stuck under a branch laying around, it was only a matter of
seconds. He sat down on the ground checking his shoe, or what was left. The
whole sole had gotten ripped off, which made the already damaged footwear
completely useless. ''Fuckin' shit...'' He moaned with a tormented expression.
Clenching his fists, he hit the tree branch, which caused nothing but his hand
to hurt.
How the fuck was he supposed to tell his brother he needed new shoes? This was
the only pair he had. Merle would be angry about the spare prey anyways, he
couldn't expect him to give him money, damn he didn't want Merle to give him
money. Shoes were expensive and it was his own fault that they broke, he could
have kept an eye on where he was going. But being honest to himself, he knew
the shoes probably wouldn't have made it any longer.
He was lucky he made it this far, their home was only a few steps away now. He
crammed the sole into his pocket and limped forward with the sock-like excuse
of a shoe.
Opening the door only ajar, he peeked inside, checking the dark and narrow
hallway of their temporarily home. Daryl sneaked in with very soft steps,
breathing as shallow as he could so he wouldn't make any noise. The door shut
behind him, which left him in almost complete darkness. It took a few seconds
until his eyes adapted to the pitch black. There was only one ceiling lamp and
the light bulb had burnt through months ago. Another thing they didn't have the
money for. Daryl quickly took of his shoes and smashed them into the only
drawer they had in their hallway. It was basically for everything, shoes,
cigarettes, blades and random old junk.
Now that the evidence was at least out of Merles sight until the next time he
checked the drawer, Daryl had some time to figure out a way he could explain to
his brother that he needed new shoes.
It was better to catch a moment of soberness to talk about stuff like that, he
thought while walking into the kitchen, throwing the squirrels into the sink.
The tiled ground felt cold under his feet, the thin fabric of his socks full of
holes did no better.
''I'm home.'' He finally called out, his own voice echoing from the walls. ''Ye
I can see that.''
Daryls face turned to the door's direction with the speed of light, his
expression slightly surprised as he had not heard his brother entering the
room. Merle was leaning against the door frame, he held a beer can in his hand
but he didn't seem drunk. ''That's all?'' The tall man bend over a little to
check the sink, not moving away from the position he was standing in.
''Sorry, Merle... Had my head full of things...'' He knew that was no excuse,
not for Merle.
It was selfish, Merle probably had a head full of stuff too, worrying about how
they would make it.
And Daryl not bringing home any food wasn't exactly helping. But against his
expectations, his brother remained calm. He didn't get mad, didn't yell at him
or anything. He just continued staring at the sink, with a sign of disinterest.
''Ye, never mind.'' Merle shrugged and went back into the living room. Now
Daryl wished he'd yell at him. Was he disappointed, or tired of Daryl? The
young man started to bite his lip nervously. Merle knew how to make his brother
feel guilty, even unintended. Sometimes he felt like it was his fault that
their parents kicked them out. Whenever their dad got mad and took his anger
out on Merle, Daryl felt like it was because of something he did.
He just wanted to pay his debts, do something for Merle at once. Daryl looked
into the sink and suddenly those three squirrels looked like the smallest,
pathetic squirrels he had ever seen.
''Merle!'' Daryl called out for his brother, following him into the, what they
called, living room. It was just a dark place without windows and a couch. It
was also the only room that still had a functioning light bulb. Yet Daryl
tripped over an empty beer bottle that was laying around, once again. Stumbling
into the room, he had to hold onto the wall to prevent falling.
''Merle, you angry with me?'' Even if he had been angry, Merle couldn't keep a
serious face seeing his younger brother standing on one leg, rubbing his
hurting foot. ''Slow down, baby bro.'' He said amused, watching Daryl finding
his way to the couch he was sitting on. ''Where are ya shoes? Not such a good
idea to walk 'round barefoot, ya could trip into god knows what.'' He was
right. Their way of cleaning up was kicking everything on the ground to the
walls when it was in the way.
Daryl sat down next to him, pulling up his legs. He wrapped his hands around
his feet and started staring around nervously. His shoes, right. ''About
that...'' Daryl mumbled into his knees.
''I can't hear ya!'' Not the patient kind, his brother. Daryl looked up, trying
to hold the eye contact his brother was making. In the faint light of the
flickering ceiling lamp, Merle looked younger than he was. Actually, Daryl
didn't really know how old he was, he knew it was 30-something. Maybe it was
because he was smiling, but right now, Merle didn't look so unapproachable.
Daryl felt closer to him when they were sitting, when he didn't have to look up
to see his face. He felt secure.
''Now come on boy, tell me.'' He felt a soft push on his shoulder and just as
Merle said that, the light bulb above them sprayed sparks, gave a cracking
sound and then made the room pitch black.
''Oh fuckin' shit not again!'' Merle shouted at the lamp. While his brother
stood up complaining, Daryl remained on the couch. In his head, he silently
thanked the lamp for breaking and let out a small sigh. ''Might as well just
prepare dinner now.'' Daryl slipped of the couch, carefully groping his way to
the door. The kitchen window was their only source of light now, apart from the
one in the bathroom. Merle followed him, still mumbling insults aimed at the
broken bulb.
It was a routine. They'd both grab a knife and a squirrel and skin it next to
each other. The workplace was just big enough for both of them to stand, even
though their elbows touched. There was not a single time were one of them
wouldn't start a fight about the other one getting in their way, but those
fights were part of the skinning process. Without them, it wouldn't feel right.
Or without Merle permanently telling Daryl about all the things he was doing
wrong. ''You're the one who taught me!'' Daryl would say then with the
provocative voice of the teenage boy he was.
But he would let Merle show him how it was done again and again. Just because
he wanted to see the little smile Merle put one when he thought Daryl wasn't
looking, he enjoyed teaching his baby brother, feeling helpful and needed.
Daryl would let him correct his work over and over, leading his hand and his
knife. Just because he liked Merle near him, because he enjoyed his touch.
And so he did now, he felt Merles breath on his neck, next to his ear. His
whole body warmed up every time their bodies touched while cutting the animals'
skin open, Merles hand on his. Daryl could hear his own heart beat, he felt the
sudden urge to snuggle his face into his brothers neck but he resisted it, of
course. That would have been really weird, wouldn't it? He wasn't a child
anymore.
''Hey, are ya even listenin'?!'' Merle grunted into his ear, stepping away from
him with crossed arms.
Daryl turned around in surprise. He wasn't listening at all. ''Yea of course!''

Merle raised his eyebrows and eyed him suspiciously. The younger one sighed and
leaned himself to the kitchen counter behind him. ''Listen, Merle I gotta talk
to ya.'' Daryl took all his courage to look his brother in the eyes, who seemed
to have caught interest. ''What's it baby bro?'' Merle laid down against the
wall, they were facing each other, the narrowness of the kitchen only gave
little space in between them.
''Today in the woods, my shoes tore.'' Daryl looked down to his feet, his big
toe peeked through a hole. ''So what? Take some tape 'nd fix that shit.'' Merle
grinned, Daryl didn't know if that was a good or a bad things for the situation
he was in. ''No, they broke. They're completely useless now...''
His brother let out a sigh. ''Well, if ya want new shoes you gotta get them
yourself.'' Daryl looked up, Merle had that suggestive glance again, the one
that made him feel small. He bit his lip.
''You want me to steal..?'' His voice was just a whisper now. ''Dammit Darlene,
life ain't a bowl of cherries, don't be a pussy about it!''
It wasn't his morals that were keeping him from it, it was plain fear from
getting caught. What if the police copped him and he'd be send to a juvie? No,
he didn't want that. Merle was the one who could do stuff like that and get
away with it, not him. ''I could teach ya, y'know.'' Merle said low-voiced and
let out a dirty laugh. ''One word and we're off.''
Daryl couldn't stand his brothers provocative smile or the glances that went
all up and down his body. There was something scary, but exciting about him
when he was acting like this.
''I'm not stealing.'' Daryl ended the conversation, but he wasn't very
convincing with his statement. Merle knew about Daryls unsureness, he could see
it in his eyes. He read his face like an open book.
Daryl couldn't sleep well that night. It was too dark and stuffy in his room.
Before going to bed Merle allowed him to drink a glass of Whisky so he could
sleep better, but it did the opposite. His head hurt and he felt dizzy, didn't
eat enough today. After rolling from one side to the other in his bed, which
was really just a mattress on the ground, he stood up and found his way into
the living room. He didn't know what time it was, something around midnight,
but Merle was still awake.
He lightened up all candles he could find and put them on the desk in their
living room and while he was at it, he also lightened up something that looked
like luckily just a cigarette to Daryl.
It was hanging loosely in Merles mouth, filling the small room with smoke. As
Daryl stepped closer, he could see what is brother was doing so late at night.
He was cleaning the crossbow and two other guns he usually kept for himself.
One time when he was drunk he showed Daryl how to use it, but usually he would
get angry when Daryl touched them, telling him they were no toys.
''What are you doing?'' Daryl asked him with a soft, sleepy voice. He saw what
he was doing, the question was more of a 'why' than a 'what'. Merle looked up,
shadows of the candles' flames flickering over his face. He looked tired, maybe
he forgot the time. ''Boy, why are ya not asleep?'' He spoke, the cigarette
still in his mouth. ''Can't sleep.'' Daryl sat down next to him, watching his
strong hands stuffing the brush down the gun's barrel. ''Ya still thinkin'
'bout those shoes, huh?''
He knew he'd have to get them. He couldn't go hunting barefoot. ''You said
you'd show me.'' Daryls voice was only a whisper now, due to his sleepiness and
shame. ''Show you what?'' Merle asked teasingly. ''Show me... how it's done
without getting caught...''
 
The next day they had to leave all the doors open so the light that shed
through the kitchen window would brighten the other rooms too. Daryl was
sitting in the hallway fixing his shoes with a stapler for one last time,
before he'd throw them away. ''How old were you when you first did it?'' Daryl
asked as his brother walked in. ''Did what? Shoplifting?'' Merle didn't seem to
make a big deal out of it, he grinned watching his brother stapling the sole on
the fabric. ''Around ya age, maybe younger. C'mon Darlene ya makin' a mountain
out of a molehill, that face looks like ya have something stuck up your ass!''
He laughed and then ruffled through his younger brothers hair.
''Act normal, okay? Smile, don't look too nervous.'' Daryl nodded, his stomach
felt sick since he woke up that morning. ''Anything else?'' He asked swallowing
hard.
They shut the door behind them and walked down the stairway. ''This is ya first
time so I'll be tender, baby bro.'' Merle sounded amused but Daryl had to turn
his head facing the wall so his brother wouldn't see him blushing over the
joke.
''No, seriously I will stay by ya side this time. If somethin' goes wrong, ya
run! Leave me behind, I'll save ya sweet ass.'' Daryl was glad that he could
count on his brother, but that made his nervousness only fade slightly.
The shop that they chose was kind of a rural store, only one lady worked there,
sometimes her daughter helped her out. Daryl had only seen the shop from the
outside and Merle said this had to be the first and last time he'd see the
inside. Shoplifting from stores you frequently shop at was plain stupid, he
explained to him.
Before they went in, Merle dragged Daryl back on his shoulder.
''Listen boy, before we go in. Greet the bitch behind the counter, but don't
let her see ya face for too long, alright?'' Daryl nodded in silence and then
entered the shop followed by his brother.
As he was told, he greeted the lady that worked there, then quickly made his
way forward.
There were a few people around, not too many. They didn't even bother looking
at them just like Daryl was used to. They wandered around til they found an
empty aisle, Daryl glanced at the ceiling looking for cameras. ''Don't bother.
They're fake.'' Daryl winced unexpectedly, as he had not noticed how close
Merle was to him. The sudden whisper in his ear made his heart skip a beat. He
could feel his brothers beard stubble tickling his cheek and his crotch
touching his back, which made Daryls body heat up suddenly. Merle standing so
close to him in public made him nervous and the fact that he got nervous made
him tense up even more. He rubbed off his sweaty hands on his pants to prevent
them from shaking as he listened to his brothers directions. ''Now grab a pair,
make sure it's your size and stuff it into the bag.'' Merle held the backpack
open next to his hips and Daryl did as he said.
Suddenly Daryl felt something boiling up in him, a sudden thrill that took over
every single one of his body parts. He imagined that's what drugs must feel
like, as he started seeing everything in slow-motion and the only thing he
heard was his own heart-beat in his ears. It was like when he was hunting, but
this time he had no control over it. His target wasn't a rabbit or a squirrel,
this time it was the escape. He felt his brother push him forward, leading him
out, but Daryl was too busy getting his breath back. It was so easy. Nobody saw
them, nobody noticed, nobody cared. The adrenalin rush Daryl experienced was
like nothing he has ever felt before, so exciting and confusing at the same
time. Like the blood that run through his veins was electric.
They were out before he even realized it. The fresh air cooled him down a
little, leaving his cheeks red and his heart beating faster than ever. ''Good
job boy, you alright?'' As he felt his brothers hand running through his hair
and over his neck, it was like the arousal that sped up his heart was a raging
fire that now spread to his lower parts. He backed off flinching, couldn't even
catch a clear thought but he knew that he shouldn't feel like this. He
shouldn't feel warm between his legs after being touched by his brother, after
committing a crime.
''Y-Yea, I'm fine. I just need a moment.'' He answered out of breath. Merle
grinned at him.
''Hey it's over, it's alright.'' He looked like he wanted to make another joke
about how Daryl was overreacting, but luckily he just dropped it. Everything
Daryl needed now was some time for himself, hunting and getting them a proper
meal. It was Merles duty to hunt today, but Daryl would happily take it. His
brother could do the dishes or something in exchange.
Daryl spent the day hunting until it got dark outside. He managed to get them
enough to eat for about three days, it was like today's incident was what Daryl
needed to wake up from an early hibernation.
He thought after dealing with this problem he would be able to sleep better,
but he was wrong.
His dreams were active and unsettling, they left him confused. In his dreams he
was in that shop again, he lived the moment over and over and his heart rushed
even in his sleep. Merle also appeared in his dreams, his touches and the way
he murmured into his ear that day.
Daryl woke up covered in sweat, holding tightly onto his bed sheets. As he
looked down, breathing heavily, he saw that he pushed down the blanket in his
sleep which gave him full view on the erection under his boxers. He quickly
pulled up the blanket and checked the side of the room Merles mattress was
lying in. After his eyes adapted to the darkness, he could see his brothers
back. He seemed to be asleep, but Daryl felt his already red face blushing in
shame again.
Turning around to the side, so he wasn't facing his brother, Daryl let his
fingers slide inside his pants. The arousal was throbbing in his hand, so hard
that it almost started to hurt. He had to get rid of it, now. Covered in his
blanket he started sweating again like a pig, so he quickly took off his shirt
and put it between his teeth to bite on it. The fabric in his mouth started
soaking in his spit fast as he tried to keep his moaning down. It was so
embarrassing doing this in the same room his brother slept in, but the simple
thought of it made him even harder.
His hands were shaking as he slowly began stroking himself first, then jerking
fiercely. He squeezed his penis so hard, it would have probably brought pain to
most people, but Daryl needed it that way.
He couldn't fully keep himself from groaning into his shirt and every time he
thought he was too loud the fear of Merle waking up and catching him made him
even more aroused.
It felt like an eternity when he finally came into his hand, making his muscles
relax and the shirt drop out of his mouth, wet from his spit. He cleaned his
hand on it and stuffed it under his pillow, tomorrow he would wash both the
shirt and his underpants. After he was done he could finally fall asleep in
exhaustion, too tired to even think about his wet dream or what thoughts caused
his erection.
 
He woke up from something being thrown at his head, opening his eyes in shock
he saw that it was his backpack and his brother bending over him with a grin.
''Sleepy time is over Darlene! Ya getting us new light bulbs today. I bumped my
toe like three times yesterday and I swear one more time and I kill somebody!''
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