Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/391617.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Walking_Dead_(TV)
  Character:
      Daryl_Dixon, Merle_Dixon
  Additional Tags:
      Voyeurism
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-04-25 Words: 876
****** The One Who Lies in Wait ******
by veiledndarkness
Summary
     He can't help but watch. Written for the twd_kinkmeme on Livejournal.
Notes
     Written for the prompt: Merle catches Daryl touching himself to
     Merle's dirty magazines and he doesn't say anything right away.
To be honest, he’s kinda happy to finally catch him in the act.
He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew damn well that there was
somethin’ off about Daryl, somethin’ that he couldn’t see on the outside an’
he’d sometimes look at the boy, wonderin’ if his Ma had gotten a little frisky
with one of the neighbours ‘round the time she wound up pregnant with the kid.
The kid seemed different from him from the get go, not interested in the shit
he was into, not interested in any girls, different from their old man,
different in ways that makes Merle wanna thump him upside the head an’ tell him
to man up instead of stayin’ off by his lonesome all the goddamn time. He feels
overly protective about the kid, and yeah, he’s too rough on him at times, but
Hell, he’s there for him, ain’t he?
Most of the time…
And then one night, when he comes home, much later n’ usual, and he’s ‘bout
ready to fall face first onto his bed, something stops him. That little voice
in his head that he usually ignores tells him to linger in the kitchen, grab a
beer ‘fore headin’ to that too small space that they share as a bedroom.
He does so, already half in the bag, and savours his beer before he wanders
through the narrow hallway and while he’s walkin’, he can hear it then, hear
him, and he wants to laugh.
He knows that sound, and he smirks as he pokes his head around the slightly
open bedroom door. There’s only the dim light of a battered flashlight in the
far corner of the room, the spot of light bobbin’ ‘cause the hand holdin’ it
isn’t stayin’ still.
And there he is, his back mostly to the door, an’ Merle can see his side
profile from how he’s sittin’ on his cot, restin’ on his knees, glossy porn
magazines spread out on the blanket beneath him.
He just stares for awhile, appreciatin’ the view of his baby brother in this
moment, watchin’ his hand move over the length of his cock. He takes it all in
and his chest tightens at the way Daryl’s archin’ his back, his thighs spread
way far apart, his thinly muscled body on display.
There’s a familiar poolin’ of blood in his groin and he wants to push the door
open more an’ slide his cock between those wet pink lips, those open lips as he
pants, his eyes still on the slick magazine closest to him.
He can see pre-cum gatherin’ on the tip of Daryl’s cock, see the way his
brother fists himself in that awkward, still figurin’ it out way that he
remembers goin’ through so long ago and he wants to stop Daryl from comin’ too
soon, wants to show him how fuckin’ good it can feel.
Daryl’s got the magazines all over the bed and he knows the boy’s been raidin’
his stash lately, but he hasn’t been able to catch the little shit in the act.
He sees the girly ones, sees the more hardcore bondage rags that he prefers,
an’ the one that’s got Daryl slack mouthed an’ breathin’ hard is his personal
fave, ‘cause the guy getting’ fucked good in the spread looks kinda like Daryl
if he squints an’ pretends he’s a bit younger.
He watches a minute longer ‘fore he clears his throat an’ oh fuck, next to
comin’, there’s nothin’ better than the priceless look on Daryl’s face when he
sees him standin’ there.
He wants to applaud, but Daryl just whimpers, his hand frozen on his cock, the
weeping tip gleamin’ in the dim light. The boy stares at him, mouth open, and
his face flushed, his ears bright red an’ he can’t help but smirk wider.
“Atta boy,” he chuckles and leans on the door, “Whatcha waitin’ for?”
Daryl’s tongue darts out, moistens his bottom lip an’ Merle feels his own cock
twitch in interest.
“You man enough now ta steal those, then you best finish yerself properly.”
There’s that fuckin’ sound, that almost whimper and a fat drop falls from the
tip of the boy’s cock. Daryl’s still not movin’, but his fingers are twitchin’
and he’s breathin’ fast, breathin’ shallow.
“I said g’on an’ do it,” he orders, pleased to see the boy jump when he barks.
“That’s right, twist ya wrist,” he croons when Daryl moves his fist
tentatively. The boy hasn’t spoken but that’s alright, perfectly alright ‘cause
Merle can see he ain’t gonna last long, he can see Daryl’s body vibratin’ from
the pleasure, see the way he can’t sit still.
He crosses the room to the cot an’ leans down, lookin’ at the picture for a
moment before he whispers in Daryl’s ear, “Ya wanna get fucked like that for
real someday, all ya hafta do is ask,” an’ the boy’s comin’ with a shout.
Merle’s never been more proud of his brother than he is right then, watchin’
him shake like a leaf as he comes, an’ he rubs his hand over Daryl’s messy
hair, still chucklin’ away, happy to know that the boy’s at least got himself
some interest in sex.
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