Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6609802.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Walking_Dead_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Daryl_Dixon/Shane_Walsh, Background_Lori_Grimes/Rick_Grimes
  Character:
      Daryl_Dixon, Shane_Walsh, Rick_Grimes
  Additional Tags:
      Extremely_Dubious_Consent, Power_Imbalance, Age_Difference, Abuse_of
      Authority, Implied/Referenced_Child_Abuse, Dubious_Ethics, Victim
      Blaming, Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting, First_Time, Touch-Starved,
      Unsafe_Sex, Rough_Sex, Hand_Jobs, Anal_Fingering, Anal_Sex, Come_as_Lube,
      Alcohol, Biting, Slapping
  Series:
      Part 2 of Flat_Broke_Down_Life
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-04-20 Words: 5539
****** SRO ******
by sanidine
Summary
     Shane has had his concerns about Daryl Dixon ever since he caught
     wind of a particularly nasty rumor. When the weather takes a bad turn
     at the end of a school day, Shane’s suspicion proves to be correct.
     (aka the time that Daryl managed to find his courage enough to try
     and make a move on an officer, but that officer wasn't Rick Grimes. )
Notes
     'Get Lonely' was originally intended as a one shot and now this has
     turned into a three part series. Someone help me because I cannot
     help myself.
     I almost never feel bad about the things I write but the working
     title for this one was "everything is sad and bad." So, uh, please
     mind the tags.
See the end of the work for more notes
Shane was certain that being assigned as a School Resource Officer was meant to
be penance, not only for his previous sins but for all of future sins as well.
He hadn’t made a fuss about it when Lieutenant Hobbes had voluntold him to take
the position as an SRO. It would only be for one year - the school was
scrambling to fill the position since the guy that had been lined up had quit
without notice. Hobbes thought Shane would be a good fit for the position,
something about him being a more relatable role model  since he was younger
than most the department.
Shane had figured that it would be easy - all he had to do was make sure the
students didn't stab each other or vandalize the principal’s car or blatantly
sell weed in the hallways. As it turned out, it  was  easy. Easy enough that
there wasn't fuck all to keep him entertained. Shane had never thought that
he'd miss tackling meth heads outside the Family Dollar at two a.m. but
spending all his time at a high school was really making him long for the good
old days.
He’d had Officer Ibanez bring Gunner the drug dog through again and again and
again, until the little assholes finally got the message and kept their shit
off school property. It thinned the herd of troublemakers pretty well, and
there was more than one ankle monitor in the hallways that was a direct result
of his doing. Shane would also do one on one sessions with the kids that the
guidance counselors had concerns about, but mostly his job was just to stand in
the hallways and make his presence felt.
Fine.
But Shane could only flirt with the hot math teacher so many times. And then
there were the goddamn freshman girls who kept giggling behind their hands and
asking him which shade of lipstick he thought looked better on them, which was
just. Ugh.
Watching all the kids was like a sneak peak preview into the junkies and
prostitutes that Shane would be arresting in a few years time. Thank fuck the
school year was almost over.
Shane could remember being in high school and feeling like he was king shit of
turd mountain, but from the other side it's just plain hilarious to watch. It's
amazing, the type of stuff the students say to each other in the hallways while
Shane is standing right there. In uniform. They must either think that he's
deaf or stupid, or maybe they just forget that he exists when they aren't
thinking about him. Shane is able to keep a pretty good pulse on what is
happening or going to happen in the school just by standing around listening.
(One time Shane was lying in wait to break up a fight before it even gets
started, and it earned him a reputation as some kind of psychic. Which somehow
seemed more plausible  to them than the truth, which is that every student had
been talking - at full volume and in the hallway - about how Joey and Marcus
planning to fight in the courtyard after school.)
Still, most of what he hears is just dumb gossip. Rumors that burn bright for a
week or two before flaring out. The hunger for gossip in the heart of a high
schooler knew no bounds, and they always moved on to the next thing in due
time. Who was fucking who, who had gotten knocked up, whatever the fuck it was
they were talking about. For the most part it was all the same.
Shane never put much stock in the rumors he heard the students chatting about
in the halls, but. Some things he remembered.
---
It went from sprinkling to pouring rain half way through the last class period.
The weather is bad enough that the principal goes on the intercom to cancel
after school activities and remind everyone that drove to use extra caution on
the way home. A couple hours later Shane had finished the stack of paperwork
that he'd been putting off for weeks, but the thunderstorm is still in full
swing. Looking out the window he could see the rain pouring down, the trees
whipping in the wind. But Shane didn't want to spend any more time in the
school than he had to, so he bit the bullet and got damp running out to his
truck.
There was one student still sitting at the Pick Up/Drop Off loop, and when
Shane saw who it is he had to fight back a sigh.
Shane knew that Daryl Dixon usually drove to school - he always had Officer
Ibanez take Gunner on a few extra loops around the parking lot specifically to
check Dixon’s old rustbucket of a truck. (Never found anything, but Shane has
had enough run-ins with his older brother to know that it's just a matter of
time.) So, Dixon usually drives. But there he is, lurking on a bench waiting
for the rain to stop. Maybe Dixon’s truck broke down and he was too lazy to fix
it, maybe his dad got tired of his shitty attitude and revoked his driving
privilege, maybe the kid had just decided to walk that morning and was now
regretting that particular decision.
Whatever. It didn't really make a difference. Because one way or another, Shane
wasn't going to leave Dixon alone on school property.  That kid would destroy
something as soon as all the adults had turned their backs, and then Shane
would have even more paperwork to deal with.
Dixon was kind of curled up on the bench, hunched in on himself with his head
resting on his knees, and he didn't look up when Shane pulled through the loop
and came to a stop across from him. Shane rolled down the passenger side
window, had to shout to make himself heard over the rain.
“Need a lift?”
“Fuck off.” Dixon still hadn't bothered to look up. Shane felt his blood run
hot.
“ ‘Fuck off’? How ‘bout you step back and try that one again.”
That time Dixon did look up. Shane could see the exact moment that Dixon
recognized who he’s talking to, the way he went little green around the gills
but knew better than to try and make excuses. Good.
“Don't need yer help.” Seemed like Daryl Dixon didn't know how to apologize any
more than he knew good manners, but the way he curled further into himself was
good enough for Shane.
“It's gonna rain all night, and you can't stay on school property after dark.”
Shane was starting to get sick of yelling over the storm “So get in the fuckin’
truck.”
Dixon looked up at that, not shocked by the profanity as much as he seemed used
to following direct orders without complaint. So he got in the truck. The
inside of the vehicle smelled wet, fresh rain and new clay, and Dixon was
shivering a little bit. The kid didn't own a shirt with sleeves, much less a
jacket, and his clothes were damp enough to look uncomfortable. (Shane was
pretty sure he even recognized the shirt Dixon was wearing - grey, logo from a
demolition derby in the next county, worn thin with holes all along the hem -
Merle Dixon had been wearing the same shirt when Shane had thrown Merle in the
drunk tank a few years before.)
Shane switched the heat on and went to shift into drive except
“Put yer damn seatbelt on.” Shane snapped. Dixon did what he was told, kept his
body turned away from Shane to look out the window as he muttered something
under his breath that Shane couldn't quite catch.
“I'm not going out of my way for you.” Shane said as he pulled the truck out
onto the road “I’ll take you as far as my place, but you're walkin’ the rest of
the way.”
Dixon just nodded, didn't try to argue. At least this Dixon knew when to keep
his fool mouth shut, unlike his older brother. There were old bruises that were
fading out around Dixon’s left eye, curling yellow and green across the side of
his face and down to his jaw. Shane wasn't at all surprised by the evidence
that Daryl Dixon was a troublemaker. He was well known for always starting
shit, getting into fights. Everyone in that family was cut from the same bad
cloth.
The rain didn’t let up any in the ten minutes it took Shane to drive home.
 Shane caught the look that flickered across Dixon’s face as he pulled into the
garage - Dixon just looked so goddamn  bleak  that Shane almost felt bad for
him. Then a flash of light backlight the truck and threw crazy shadows across
everything in the garage as a bolt of lightning struck nearby. The thunder tore
the sky apart not a second later in a roaring boom that had Dixon flinching
violently, and Shane knew he couldn't force Dixon to walk home in the dangerous
weather conditions.
“You're gonna wait here ‘til the weather clears up.” Shane said, telling
instead of asking. Dixon just nodded, hands fidgeting on his lap as Shane
continued. “I'll let you use my phone, if you gotta call your old man and tell
him you'll be late.”
“Phone’s off.” Dixon replied, scowling down at his knees and not looking at
Shane.
Which was not all that surprising, knowing what Shane knew about his family.
Communication to the outside world was nowhere near as important as drugs and
booze - the Dixons had their priorities figured out, alright.
“Fine.” Shane stepped down out of his truck, stretching a little. The air in
the garage was warm and muggy, even with the rain. “I'll leave the door up so
you c’n get some fresh air. Head out whenever you want once the rain lets up.”
Shane headed to the door that connected the garage to his house, looking back
over his shoulder to where Dixon was standing awkwardly with his hands shoved
in his pockets.
“And don't you touch any of my tools, Dixon. I'll know if you fuck with my
workbench.
“Yessir.”
Shane went inside, closing the door behind him and blocking Dixon out on the
other side of it. Dixons weren't all that bright - Daryl would probably head
out into the storm as soon as Shane turned his back, but at least Shane had
made his attempt. He kicked off his boots, snagged a beer from the fridge, and
didn't think any more about Daryl Dixon. Not until an hour (and three more
beers) later, when Shane had to go out to the garage to get another six pack.
It was still pounding rain, and Dixon was still there. He'd sat on the bare
concrete with his back against the wall, scraping the dirt out from under his
fingernails with a folding buck knife that Shane hadn’t seen before. Dixon
looked up when Shane came through the door, and the kid must have seen
something on Shane's face because he was suddenly scrambling to his feet
“I can. Um. I'll go” Dixon stuttered but didn't actually move to leave, pinned
in place by Shane's harsh gaze.
“That your knife?”
“Yeah.”
It seemed like Dixon didn't quite get the implication at first, so Shane waited
until he saw realization hit before he said
“Carry that to school again and I won't even bother with gettin’ you expelled.
I'll just arrest you flat out. You're old enough to do real time now, aren't
you?”
Dixon just nodded, with a mulish set to his jaw that Shane didn’t care for. The
kid looked down and fidgeted with the knife for a few seconds until he finally
tucked it back into his pocket.
“Got somethin’ to say?” Shane prodded. Dixon grit his teeth, shoulders hunching
up as he curled into himself before he replied
“Won't bring it no more.”
“Good.” Shane finally wandered over to the small fridge that was tucked beside
the workbench.
Dixon looked a little young, but that was mostly just because all his hair had
been buzzed off and was just starting to grow back. Probably on account of him
getting lice again. It made him look younger for sure, but there was no way
that Dixon hadn’t been held back at least a couple of years. Kid had to be at
least nineteen, twenty years old. Still, Shane only grabbed one beer from the
little fridge - no way was he giving booze to a student, even after hours and
off of school property. Fortunately for Dixon, Shane had just enough of a buzz
on that he was feeling charitable, looked over his shoulder to where the kid
was sulking against the wall to ask
“You want a Coke?”
Dixon just looked at him, eyes going wide when Shane pitched the can to Dixon
underhand before he could respond. Shane closed the fridge and cracked open his
own beer, leaning back against his workbench and watching as Dixon took a
cautious sip of the soda.
“What, not even a thank you?”
“Thanks.” Dixon muttered, and Shane watched as he took two more slow sips of
the Coke before chugging the whole thing.
Shane laughed and tossed him another one, pleased with the way that the tips of
Dixon’s ears went bright red. A couple minutes passed in easy silence as Shane
drank his beer and watched the rain that was still sheeting down outside the
open garage door. It was almost serene, even with Dixon twitching on the other
side of the garage like a nervy cat. Shane had always liked the rain, the way
that the water got the whole world clean. He took deep breaths of the cool damp
breeze, the crisp smell of ozone, and the perfume from the jasmine plants that
ran wild along the side of the house. When he finished off the beer, Shane
crushed the can against the wood of his workbench and tossed the crumpled
aluminum in the garbage barrel before he snagged the rest of the six pack from
the mini fridge.
He wasn't thinking about anything other than how he was going to have to run to
the store the next day as he started to head back inside. Then he noticed that
Dixon was standing much closer than he had been before, fiddling with the pop
tab on the Coke can, only looking at Shane out of the corner of his eye as he
muttered.
“You want me t’go?”
Shane shook his head. “Told ya you could stay ‘til the storm let up, didn't I?”
Dixon just nodded, finally breaking the pop tab off and worrying it between his
fingers. Shane was reaching for the doorknob when Dixon spoke up again.
“O-Officer Walsh?”
“Yes, Dixon.” Shane was starting to get tired of this. The football game was
due to start up in a couple minutes, and if Dixon didn't get to the fucking
point soon Shane was just going to go inside and lock the door behind him. He
didn’t think anything Daryl Dixon had to say could be that important, until
“I'm. Real grateful, to you. For the ride and the drinks and for you lettin’ me
wait here. I'm not sure how I'm gonna pay you back.”
It was the most words that Shane had ever heard Dixon string together at one
time. He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at Dixon
“Not sure I get your meaning, there.”
“Is there… is there anything I could do, maybe? Anything you'd want?”
Then Dixon looked up at Shane from under his eyelashes, wrapped his arms around
his middle as he curled in on himself a little bit. Like he was shy. Pretending
to be sweet. Trying to sand down the rough edges, as if that would trick Shane
into thinking Dixon was anything other than what he was. Shane wasn't fooled,
but he couldn’t deny the effect it had on him. The cop felt his fingers tighten
on the plastic noose on the remainder of his beers, the rounded edges digging
into his skin before he set them down on the floor, heart picking up speed.
Shane reached out with his free hand to tap the button on the wall, and the
overhead light flipped on as the garage door started to rumble down the tracks.
Dixon flinched when the chain squealed a little bit, looked cautiously back to
Shane, and Shane slowly grinned back at Dixon. The kid was close enough that
Shane could reach out and touch his jaw, run a thumb along his cheek where
there was just a hint of soft stubble.
“C’mere.”
---
Shane never put much stock in the rumors he overheard at the high school, but
some things he remembered.
He remembered the gossip that had spread about Dixon a few months back for two
reasons. One, knowing what he knew about the kid it wasn't that far outside the
realm of believability. Two, because the other purportedly involved party was a
cop Shane had the rare chance to track down and either verify or debunk the
rumor.
He had waited until the next time Rick and Lori invited him over for supper,
knowing that his old partner would be a reliable source of info. After the
burgers had been grilled and eaten, Lori went to go wash the ketchup off of
Carl's face and grabby toddler hands while Shane and Rick were sat out on the
back porch. They were just bullshitting, drinking beer and enjoying the mild
weather. Only then had Shane leaned back in his chair and asked
“Heard that Dixon kid got pulled over last week?” Shane said, pitching it half
way between a statement and a question. It had been more like a month since the
rumor had started, but it didn’t hurt to play dumb and let Rick fill him in on
the real details. That, and some part of Shane knew it might seem suspicious if
he seemed too knowledge about something that hadn’t involved him at all.
(It wasn’t that he'd taken a special interest in Dixon Dixon. Shane might have
watched the kid a little more closely than the others, but that was just
because Dixon was so clearly going to be a problem one day. The bruises that he
sported to class it was clear that Dixon was either picking fights off of
school grounds, or raising hell and getting on the wrong side of his father.
Making trouble for everyone. But Shane told himself that he was only interested
in the rumor because it involved an unknown police officer, and Shane… Shane
just wanted to make sure that no one on the force was going to get into trouble
for abusing their privileges.)
Rick didn't say anything at first, picking at the label on his beer bottle and
looking sad all of a sudden. Then, finally “Where'd you hear that?”
“At the school. Kids pickin’ on him, you know.”
Rick shook his head “I pulled him over for running a stop sign, just let him go
with a warning. Boy’s got it hard enough as is.”
Shane had just taken another sip of beer and changed the subject. If Shane
would have known that it was Rick who had pulled Dixon over, he would have
discounted the rumor from the outset.
Rick Grimes was the last person who would want to trade sexual favors with a
kid like Dixon. Shane and Rick had been partners before Shane's temporary
assignment as an SRO, and they would probably be put back with one another
after his stint wrangling high schoolers was complete. Rick was a good guy,
happily married, head over heels for his wife and little boy. He was also,
well. A bit of a boy scout. Soft hearted. Not that there was anything wrong
with that, but Shane sometimes wondered if Rick wasn't a little bit naive.
Shit, when Shane had told Rick about the SRO gig Rick had just beamed at him
and clapped Shane on the shoulder. Said that it was good of him, that Shane
could really help the students and  make a difference  in their lives. Rick
always tried to see the good in people. Even when there wasn't any.
Shane, on the other hand. Well. Shane wasn't much for the benefit of the doubt.
Gossip, like the whispers that had spread about Daryl Dixon... even if the
exact rumor turned out to be false, Shane found that it usually had some basis
in fact. Teenagers were mean, sure, but Dixon had to have a history if the
entire student body could concede that fucking for favors was a thing that he
would do. The kid had gotten lucky getting pulled over by Rick, who was a nice
guy that believed in second chances. But what would have happened if a
different officer had pulled over the youngest Dixon? Maybe it had happened
before.
People wouldn't say stuff like that about Dixon unless he had given them some
reason to think that about him.
---
Shane didn't bother taking Dixon into the house, just directed him a few steps
backward with the hand that was holding Dixon’s jaw until he was backed up
against the plywood sheeting on the garage wall. Dixon had his eyes closed and
he was breathing hard, shaking like a leaf as Shane closed the distance between
them. Shane thought for a second that he might have fucked up and misread the
situation, but the way that Dixon pressed back against him banished any doubt
from his mind.
Hell, by the feel of things Dixon had already gotten hard. Just from that
little bit of contact. Shane had to hide a grin as he shushed Dixon, trying to
get him to relax, and Shane moved his hand away from Dixon’s jaw to stroke his
thumb along the curve of Dixon skull behind his ear. He hummed a little as he
rubbed his fingers over the fine, baby-soft hair that had grown back in since
the buzzcut. Dixon whimpered at that, turned his head into Shane's petting and
Shane leaned down to press his forehead to Dixon’s, murmuring
“This is what you wanted, yeah?”
Dixon nodded, knocking their heads together a little as he pressed forward
again, as if he could get any closer to Shane's body, get a little more
attention. Shane could feel the way that Dixon’s body was trembling where they
were pressed together - chests, thighs, hips.
“Didn't quite catch that. C’mon, Dixon. Wanna hear you say it.”
Dixon’s ears went red, but at least that got him to look up at Shane for a
second before his eyes cut back down again and he whispered “Yeah.”
Both of Dixon’s arms were pressed back against the wall, and Shane could see
where his hands had clenched into nervous, white knuckles fists. Shane grinned
down at him.With one hand still stroking Dixon’s head, soothing, Shane snuck
the other one up under the baggy grey shirt. He skimmed his fingertips across
Dixon’s belly, eliciting a strangled gasp. Then both of Dixon’s hands shot out,
quick as snakes, to clamp down around Shane's wrist and hold it in place,
preventing Shane from pulling his shirt off.
There was one stunned second where all the air seemed to go out of the room.
Shane looked up from where Dixon was holding his wrist and Dixon met his stony
gaze, eyes wide and desperate. Scowling, Shane used the hand that had been
petting to slap Dixon on the side of the head. Not trying to hurt the guy,
just. Knock some sense back into him.
“Don't be such a shit. I'm trying to be fuckin’ nice to you here.”
Dixon flinched, looked down.
“Sorry.” whispered so softly that Shane could have thought he had imagined it
if he wasn't close enough to feel Dixon’s breath, the rumbling vibrations in
his throat as he said, again “ ‘m sorry.”
Shane grunted, accepting the apology, but Dixon still wouldn't let go of his
wrist. Shane had fisted a big handful of the shirt in his grasp, stretching it
out and making the thin material pull tight across Dixon’s neck and shoulders,
but the kid still was still holding firm. Stopping Shane from doing what he
wanted to do.
“What the fuck, Dixon. Thought you said you wanted this.”
“I do. I just. Lemme keep it on.  Please .”
Shane huffed out a breath but he let go of the fabric, letting the hem drift
back down, and Dixon finally released his wrist. Shane was annoyed, but he was
still tipsy and turned on and it wasn't like not getting to undress Dixon was
that big of a loss. Probably wasn't much to look at, anyways. Didn't need to
get his shirt off to move this along.
“Bet you let me take these off though.” Shane grinned, showing his teeth as his
fingers hooked into the waistband of Dixon’s jeans, thumb flicking against the
button and the top of the zipper. He felt Dixon’s breath quicken, the way his
hips hitched forward.  “Tha’s what I thought.”
When Shane pulled the zipper down Dixon surged forward to kiss him, and Shane
started to get into it for about a second until Dixon’s teeth knocked against
his the second time. Dixon’s lips were sticky sweet from the Coke, dripping wet
with too much spit, and he was really just jamming their mouths together. Shane
grimaced and pulled back, even as he palmed Dixon’s hard cock through his
breifs. Dixon gasped and shivered, tried to get at Shane's mouth again for
another kiss.
“Knock it off.” Shane muttered, annoyed as he pulled back.
Dixon flinched away, looking down again, but Shane relented a little bit. He
leaned forward again so that Dixon could press against him, tuck his head into
the curve of Shane's shoulder while his hips humped forward in jerky motions,
desperate for more contact. Shane had Dixon’s cock in his hand then, and Dixon
started making all sorts of little sounds. Whimpers that were mostly muffled
into Shane's clavicle, sharp a gasp when Shane flicked his thumb across the
leaking tip.
“Noisy little fucker, ain’tcha?”
Shane leant forward over Dixon, braced himself against his free hand so that he
could look down at the shivering form. He couldn't see all that much, mostly
just the arch of Dixon’s back where he had leaned forward away from the wall to
press close to Shane. The knobs of Dixon’s spine pressed up against the shirt
in sharp relief, his shoulders quaking with every shiver that passed through
his body.
“Yeah, you want it bad.” Shane murmured down into the soft curve of his ear.
But despite the fact that the he was all but begging Shane to keep jerking him
off, Dixon wasn't really touching Shane back.  Selfish . Sure, Dixon’s body was
pressed as close to Shane as it could be, all hard angles digging in the worst
places. But Dixon’s hands were held stiff and awkward by his sides. Shane sped
up a little, gave Dixon a nice hard stroke from root to tip. Dixon gasped and
his hands finally unclenched, stuttered by his sides for a second before they
flew up to grasp at Shane's wide shoulders.
Shane felt more than he heard Dixon moan as he came, coating Shane's hand with
spunk. Dixon’s bitten nails dig burning half moons into the hard muscle of
Shane's back, and the bright flash of pain made Shane's mouth twist. For a
minute or so all that Shane could hear was the bandsaw buzz of the rain coming
down on the roof and Dixon’s rough breathing. Then, Shane’s impatience finally
got the better of him.
With a growl, he spun Dixon around, pressed him up against the wall of the
garage in the same motion as he shoved the dirty jeans and underwear down
around his knees. Dixon, still slack jawed and stupid from having just gotten
off, barely got his arms up in time to prevent his face from smacking the
plywood. Shane caught Dixon’s eyes for a second, wide and wet and blue, and
then Dixon hid his face as he tucked his head between where his forearms were
braced on the wall. He was breathing hard, shaking a little, but Shane didn’t
miss how Dixon tried to spread his legs, move his feet further apart even
though his pants were tangled around his knees.
Shane's fingers were still slick with come, and he briefly considered making
Dixon lick his hand clean before he changed his mind, reached down to rub his
wet fingertips over Dixon’s asshole. The tight muscle clenched and fluttered as
he stroked against it, and Shane moaned even louder than Dixon did when he sunk
his first two fingers into the smaller man's body without preamble.
Dixon was scorching hot inside, unbelievably tight around Shane's fingers.
Shane groaned as his dick throbbed in his jeans, and he pressed himself back up
against Dixon’s body as Shane fingered him open, rubbed his hard cock against
Dixon’s hip. Dixon was so tense, skinny body trembling like a live wire as
Shane stroked him open.
“Fuck, Dixon” Shane panted in his ear, nibbling a little at the shell, running
his tongue over soft skin in between whispers. “God, you're tighter that I
thought you'd be. Bet you take it so fuckin’ sweet…”
Turned out, Shane was right. All of Dixon’s little gasps, his high pitched
whimpers after Shane got his dick wet with a little extra spit and pushed into
his slick hole - Dixon did take it sweet. Shane was too caught up to think
about doing it safe, even though he had condoms in his wallet. It just felt too
good, nailing raw into where Dixon was wet and tight and so, so hot inside.
The smell of sex and the booze in his blood and the hurt, needy little sounds
that Dixon kept making - it all made Shane's head spin. And maybe he got a
little bit carried away towards the end, got a little rough as he gripped
Dixon’s hips hard and knocked him forward against the wall as he fucked into
him. Shane bit hard at one bony shoulder through the thin shirt, where the mark
of it wouldn't show, getting the fabric wet with spit as Dixon cried out and
jerked against him.
Shane could feel his balls getting tight, and he reached around to find that
Dixon was hard again. Or maybe he was still hard from the first time Shane had
gotten him off. Either way, all it took was a few quick jerks for Dixon to come
a second time. He shivered all over as he came, shouted out hoarsely as his
shoulders hunched up around his ears and his ass clenched tight around Shane's
cock.
That was all it took to push him over the edge. Shane spilled hot and wet into
Dixon’s tight little hole, grinding into him balls deep as the aftershocks
curled Shane's toes and got him breathing out hard through his mouth as he
pulled out. He gave Dixon a friendly slap on the ass as he took a step back,
ran a rough hand over his face to try and get his head straight. Dixon was
still pressed up against the wall where Shane had shoved him. The rain had
stopped some time when they were fucking, and Dixon was breathing so hard and
loud that it seemed to echo in the sudden silence.
Shane had never really taken his pants off, so it was just a matter of tucking
his softening dick away and zipping back up. His belt buckle jangled a little
as he went to cinch it tight, and Shane didn’t miss the way that Dixon shivered
all over at the clank of metal on metal.
“No way I've got another round in me, so don't even try it.” Shane’s chuckle
turned into a yawn and he stretched his arms out above his head, trying to work
the ache out of his shoulders. “You weren't half bad though Dixon, if you ever
wanna go again you know where I am.”
Shane snagged the abandoned beers off the floor, taking a minute to leer at
Dixon as he carefully hitched his pants back up over his hips. Dixon wasn't too
chatty after fucking, apparently - didn't seem to even want to look at Shane
from the way he kept his face turned away, but Shane wasn't bothered. It wasn't
like Shane was a big cuddler either, so he wouldn't hold it against him.
Once Dixon had finally zipped his jeans, Shane reached out and tapped the
button on the wall. The garage door clattered open, rolling up to reveal the
damp world outside - water dripping from the trees and the beginnings of the
sunset, vibrant oranges and purples that glowed off the empty clouds.
“You know how t’get home from here.”
If Dixon looked at him then, Shane didn’t notice. He was already stumbling back
into his house, locking the door behind him.
End Notes
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     Part 3 will be Rick/Daryl again and it will have an optimistic ending
     I promise. I just had to get some of the misery and suffering out of
     the way first
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