Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4000156.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      The_Walking_Dead_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Merle_Dixon/Beth_Greene
  Character:
      Beth_Greene, Merle_Dixon
  Additional Tags:
      Voyeurism, Masturbation, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Dirty_Talk,
      Friends_With_Benefits, Well_sort_of_"friends", Community:_twd_kinkmeme
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-05-24 Words: 4146
****** Wind 'Em Up and Watch 'Em Go ******
by blueberry
Summary
     Beth wants to do what she can to live life to the fullest. Since she
     started sleeping with Merle, his ideas have sure been some help with
     that.
Notes
     Written for this_kink_meme_prompt: Merle and Beth are sleeping with
     each other, unknown to everyone else. One day, Merle wants to watch
     how Beth pleasures herself. She hesitates, but wants to try. Unsure
     at first, she gets more and more confident and in the end really
     turned on by Merle encouraging her.
Merle was grinning. Over at his spot sitting on the stairs, looking at the
plate balanced in his lap, and a good few minutes before Daryl and Carol went
to sit nearby with their own lunches, he was grinning away for no reason.
Unless that reason was Beth, and she was pretty sure it was.
It didn't matter ... but she'd set out to accomplish that little thing, and she
had. All it had taken was for her to wear her shortest pair of shorts and a
shirt with a wide enough neck to slip off a shoulder, and to leave her hair
loose and messier than usual. And to move around near Merle while not saying
much to him, and make sure he could see her all through the morning, and ... a
lot of dumb things that turned out to work. She had never tried to be seductive
before. When? For who? Part of her was sure she hadn't managed to be seductive
now, but she also knew that look on Merle's face. This was going both ways; the
effect she had was a real thing, not her own mind and body running away with
her.
She sucked her fingers clean as she ate, though she didn't dare risk a look to
see if it had worked in case she blushed too much. The second time she tried
that tactic, a coughing fit broke out over by the stairs that had to be
Merle's, because Daryl and Carol spoke up in response to it. Unconcerned, Beth
arched her back as she thoughtfully sat back and got the last of the sauce off,
letting a fingertip linger on her bottom lip. Merle might be laughing or he
might be shocked, but either way was all right by her. She'd already got her
message across.
After lunch, as she and Carl cleared the area, she told her father in a
carrying voice that she was going to grab her writing stuff and find a quiet
place - no, not too far, and nowhere unsafe, she really wasn't looking to clear
out the rest of the prison herself. They exchanged smiles and then she grabbed
a last mug and got out of there, still altogether too close to a suspicious
blush.
Once she'd got away, she went halfway to her and Merle's usual spot and sat
down cross-legged against the wall of a corridor. If anyone else came after
her, they'd start getting used to idea that she might sometimes be in odd
places, which would be good with the amount of sneaking around she did lately.
All the subterfuge ought to make Beth feel worse than it did; mostly, what she
did with Merle felt intensely private, and it bothered her more that everyone
else would make it their business if they had any idea of it.
She'd brought her song lyrics notebook to keep busy with, in which she jotted
down as much as she could remember of songs she knew; she wrote, humming to jog
her memory and then listening carefully to make sure she hadn't called walkers
close. Finally she did hear someone nearby, but none of that dangerous, raspy
breathing. The footsteps came closer in familiar tread, fast and heavy -
someone who knew where they were going and what they'd get out of it.
Beth put her pen in the loops of the spiral-bound notebook and stood, shaking
her hair out of her face and making sure her clothes sat right. Or should she
get the shirt off-shoulder again? Too late - Merle was around the corner, firm
steps stuttering as he saw her before he expected to, and her body heated up
all over at seeing that she could throw him off again.
"Just enjoying the sun in the corridor, here," Beth said, waving to the row of
small windows that warmed the narrow corridor up.
Merle growled and backed her against the wall, resting his hand just above her
head. "Hey! You little minx, you wildcat." He spoke like the words were
insults. "You get a kick out of winding a man up?"
She could have asked why he had to act mad all the time, even when teasing, but
then he might get annoyed for real. Instead Beth looked up at him with big
eyes. "I didn't figure I was doing anything much. Maybe you're just a dirty old
man?"
"With such a dirty old mind..." He snorted. "You couldn't find a popsicle to
suck on and really play the part?"
Beth found her lips twitching and ducked her head, brushing hair behind her
ear. "Fresh out."
"Might just have one here for you," Merle said - and he broke first, starting
to laugh. "Goddamn, girl. I look like somebody you use as your training
wheels?" In fact, he couldn't stop laughing.
He could be fun. Beth shrugged one shoulder and grinned up at him. "Rick's got
Judith this afternoon, Carol's on watch, Carl's going to hang out with Michonne
so she can show him how she uses her sword. Those are the people who usually
come looking for me, and nobody's mentioned needing me for anything, so I
thought I could get while the getting's good." She nodded down the corridor in
the direction that led away from C Block, towards the office the two of them
used, feeling her face go red and cheerfully accepting it. Not like they both
weren't used to her doing that. "If you want, and you're not going out with
Daryl or anything. He's supposed to be on watch with Carol so I thought it'd be
fine."
"Oh, you wanna get - you'll be getting something, all right." Merle pressed her
against the wall with his whole body as he gave a little thrust. "Yeah, I think
my schedule allows for an exercise break. Awful thoughtful of you."
He was way harder than he'd normally be before getting rubbed up some more.
Well, not like she was winning in that department - she'd been ready to go for
hours. It was starting to be a real ache low in her belly, all her wanting. She
said his name breathlessly and tilted her head down the corridor again.
"Naw. Hold on a minute," Merle said, easing back to let air between them.
"There's a talk I'd like to be having. About your thoughtful habits."
"What, seriously? Now?" She raised her eyebrows mock-pointedly. "That's
unusual, Merle."
"There are some implications to this game you've been at. You woke up with a
plan that went and put the swing in your perky little ass that you've had me
watching all morning. You woke up thinking about me."
"May--"
He wasn't playful anymore. A finger to her lips and one of those almost
dangerous, promising, intense looks on Merle's face stopped her dead. How did
he do that so fast? She was happy about managing to get somebody a little
excited, and then there was Merle, switching on a presence that flared in all
your senses.
"Oh, I like it, so you don't have to go playing shy. It's a hell of a thing to
picture you tangled up in your sheets and know there's thoughts of me creeping
in already, hard on the heels of some of your favourite dreams... And your
sweet little ole hand slipping on down underneath the covers, your pajama
pants..."
He stroked his knuckles along her neck where her pulse was making itself felt.
"I don't only got to picture it, though, do I?"
Beth got it. She almost didn't want to because part of her was scandalised, and
she really didn't know if she wanted to do what he was asking for.
Ducking her head away, she turned in the cage made by Merle's body, then took
his hand to lead him to the office they'd cleared and secured. Get the man
talking and he'd never quit, especially if he thought he had the opportunity to
argue and cajole you into something; if it were possible for Merle to hold a
conversation with himself, she had thought, he would take very little time
before calling himself a nagging, jawing housewife. She'd found if she stayed
mostly quiet she could convince him of her viewpoint more easily, and it helped
to add open arms to invite him into her. Merle was a guy happy to make do with
the simple things, no matter the kind of stuff he might say he wanted them to
try.
He gave a dissatisfied grunt, but put his whole arm around her waist and went
along with her. As soon as they pushed open the door to the office he started
undressing her, his hand always surprisingly quick with buttons; then his
fingers dipped down her shorts. It occurred to her that he hadn't even touched
her the way that he wanted her to do - used only his fingers to take her over
the edge. Still, him doing it wouldn't be the same as her ... putting on a
show...
Merle was so distracted he barely paid attention to taking the two steps to
actually enter the room, and it was Beth, giggling and with her shirt dragged
askew, that remembered to lock the door.
"Get out of your own clothes," she said, pushing him back with a hand to the
chest so she had space to take the shirt off.
He didn't just step back, he backed away, going all the way over to the desk.
"My shirt, sure, and my knife, of course. But as for the rest..." He took off
his prosthetic, his button-down and tank top, and then sat on the desk and
stared at her while she finished taking her shoes and socks off. "To my mind,
that'd be dangerous."
Sitting there with afternoon light starting to strike gold in the creamy paint
and wood panelling of the room, looking warmed and soft-edged in a way it was
hard to in the cell blocks, Merle didn't look dangerous. But he still looked
like he'd eat her up. "I wouldn't want to forget what I had in mind - just get
carried away and nail you like there's no tomorrow. There's still that sight
I'd love to see."
Beth tried not to squirm. She was already on show - shirtless and leaning
against the door for support, shorts open, thighs squeezing together... Merle
was pretty damn hard, she guessed at a glance, even with his pants obscuring
the view, so at least it wasn't just her. They hadn't hardly touched; she could
get him in this state anyway.
"So you've thought about my proposal - quiet, taking a bit of time about it the
way you do - now have you found yourself at a conclusion? Which way are you
hopping, bunny rabbit?" He was starting to smile like he already knew.
Then again, Beth found that she was starting to smile too, the corners of her
mouth wavering up as her heart pounded. "I don't know which way I'm jumping.
Doing that sounds ... awful embarrassing..."
"But," Merle encouraged.
"Guess I've done some embarrassing things already. Without you or me asking for
it, sometimes." (Nothing had ever warned her how ridiculous sex could be, or
what a plain mess, not even Maggie and her occasional stories.) "And you
usually don't laugh all that hard."
He made an abjectly apologetic face, putting fingers over his mouth in a
promise to keep quiet. Beth giggled - unable to help it, or the shortness of
her breath, or how her gaze fell away to the floor.
This wasn't playing around like she'd done earlier by trying out 'seduction';
it was raw like nothing she'd ever even thought of doing. So was a whole lot of
the stuff she'd done with Merle over the weeks. Touching him at all, or even
liking the look of him had been way out of her frame of reference. That was why
she'd asked to have sex with him in the first place. When else was she going to
do things she'd never done before?
She straightened her spine, pushing off the door, and felt like the floor had
moved with her. But even if this was really, really, so very freaking far from
piano and song solos at church on special occasions ... she still had practice
with not giving in to stage fright.
Beth aimed to make her little walk across the room a saunter. Noises of
appreciation followed her, and the sound of the desk chair getting rolled to a
new spot. She pretended she had heard nothing, sinking onto the thin mattresses
they had stacked up by the wall, and pulled the pillows into a heap to lean
against.
"You gotta build a fucking nest to flick your bean in?" So much for Merle not
doing any teasing. She shot him a look, but he just sighed with satisfaction
and put his feet on the desk, arms crossed behind his head. He was out to be a
regular front-row audience.
It's all right, Beth thought to the frantic beat of her heart, it's all okay. I
like it. He likes it. That's all good. 'Good' has changed a lot these days.
She found she could make herself get comfortable against the pillows at a
natural pace - digging a hair-tie out of her pocket to get her hair out of the
way, closing her eyes and lying back. Once she was settled she stroked a breast
with one hand, rocking the weight in her palm and brushing her fingers against
the nipple, the skin there so sensitive that her fingertips felt cool and
rough. She reached her other hand into her open shorts, then back up to stroke
her side and touch lightly over her belly.
"That how you usually do it?" Merle said in the low rasp of his interest.
"That's how." She couldn't look at him yet, but that was okay. Especially since
she was pretty sure her nipples had gone visibly tight from hearing his voice
and remembering all at once the kind of stuff he did when he sounded like that.
Beth gave up on the show of working herself up and dug her hand into her
underwear. "Little faster than normal," she said, voice a whisper.
"Mmm-hmh." Now it sounded like he couldn't speak at all! Good Lord.
Touching her clit made her belly coil so tight she called out a too-loud sound,
and just had to do it again ohfuck too hard-- She sucked in deep breaths and
went down to her entrance instead, getting her fingertips wet. Knowing she was
under watch, the movements under the straining shorts felt guilty and furtive
instead of simply a little more gentle. Face just about on fire, she wrapped
her free arm around her waist and slowly dragged her fingers back up to circle
her clit.
"Hey, now," Merle said. "Said I was going to make you realise someday that
there's no need to be so quiet when we're all the way back here. Now you're
damn near going and setting yourself to screaming? The cheek of the girl."
"Don't worry, it's not like I've forgotten that you're there. Trust me."
A strangled chuckle, but after a few moments passed he sounded normal when he
spoke. "What are you thinking about? What is that you usually think about?"
"Just ... stuff that's happened." That first time when she came across him in
one of the grey prison corridors and he'd shared the bottle of whiskey he'd
found when she asked for a drink - when he'd touched her, like she'd asked
after a while and a few more mouthfuls for courage. Right there on the cold
concrete, he'd let the two of them make the most of the moment, as well as
making promises to her about what they'd do once he found condoms; he'd kept
every single one... She thought of that one time when he'd got to his knees in
front of her, and when he'd dug his nails in and left lingering crescents on
her hip, and laid out broad and strong below her, and above her and blocking
out everything else, things he said, his cock in her hand and inside her, mouth
wet, stubbled rough, and hand quick.
"No 'stuff' you thought up yourself? That's a scandal, thought you were an
artistic type. Creative and all. But I guess that's what you got me around for.
Ideas like this. You having fun?"
Beth took a deep breath - this wasn't too much for her, no way - and opened her
eyes, rolling her head on the pillow pile to look at him. "Why don't you guess,
Merle."
His arms were on his thighs, now, the hurt one pressed between his legs and his
fingers digging into his thigh. She liked the feel of doing that to him too.
Beth smiled, but he looked beyond the point where he could return it, gaze
travelling from her face to her hand to the way her toes twitched.
And he kept doing that thing with his tongue against his lips that looked
gross. Probably because it was so hot.
Her shorts were an annoyance now, and she wriggled out of them and her
underwear. Merle made approving noises again though his expression looked like
he was in pain, and his fingernails scratched on the heavy fabric of his pants
as his grip tightened.
Beth let her eyes shut a moment as she brought her right hand down to her
entrance, left hand still playing with her clit. She didn't always do this, but
Merle would appreciate seeing her fingers slide in. "I didn't used to be able
to get anything at all inside me. Even..." But he liked it when she talked
about this stuff. "Even when I tried the one time, and me and, ah, my
boyfriend, we just couldn't really make it fit..."
Merle looked like he made an effort to rein himself in and talk. "Ain't
surprised," he drawled. "I do remember how it hurt you just taking my fingers
that first time. And then my dick..." He gave a little whistle, shaking his
head, and he was at once too pleased - with hurting her! - for her not to be
angry, and staring too intently for her to stop.
"You gotta look so happy about that?"
"Yeah, Beth, that I do. You let me bring you back here again, didn't you? Let
me have you even after the hurt. Knew it stood you in good stead after all the
rest of what we'd done. It's awful nice to be so very. Sincerely. Appreciated."
He got off the chair and pitched forward to kneel on their bed. Eyebrows
raised, mouth quirked genially, he raised his hand to one of her legs and
nudged it a little wider open. She obliged. At this point, why not? oh, why
have shame? She spread both her legs, planted her heels and rolled her hips up
to angle her fingers better. Merle's breath came right out in one rush but she
really couldn't look at him anymore, she just worked herself up and up and
over, unable to help what was happening to her, the shaking of her body or the
high notes coming out of her mouth. Then Merle moving in to roll her on her
side and get behind her, the teeth of his zip and his dick digging into her
backside as his hand pressed over her shuddering belly.
Merle ground and thrust against her. "Here it is, what you're after - all you
been wanting, right here, all night and day. Maybe you're going to beg me
someday, girl, how about that?"
Beth buried her face in the pillows. Maybe, yes, no, but it didn't matter right
now. This, she wanted. He actually came on her and it was exactly what she
wanted.
After a while Merle started moving around, getting up to clean off, zipping up,
and putting his tank top on. Then he came to lie down again, behind her. Beth
hadn't moved from lying curled up on her side; she wasn't embarrassed, exactly,
but felt all too aware that eyes would be on her again if she called more
attention to herself. Naked, achy, a mess, it would just be a little bit too
much to take.
Merle chuckled. Then he rolled closer again ... and cleaned her up. A rag or
something was swiped over the skin of her back, the fabric rough but the
movements not too much so. This was new. And more unexpected than what she'd
done. And ... while it was attention, it was a kind that made her relax a bit.
When he was done swiping off the tackiness he'd left on her back he tossed the
rag toward the office bin, letting out another self-satisfied chuckle at
getting it in.
Then he passed a moment with her butt and his hand that didn't have much to do
with the rest of her - so the situation was getting back to typical. Beth
rolled her eyes, but now when she nestled her head into the pillows, she was
comfortable.
Yeah, there he went, back to being a low-boil mean about compliments and
teasing and everything again: "Look atcha, soft all over," Merle said. "Did you
ever do a day's work on that farm of your daddy's, or is this another case
where the kid sibling gets away with everything?"
Beth flexed the arm she wasn't lying on - she was no Merle or Daryl in the
biceps department, but since people didn't expect any muscle on her at all
there was more than enough to shut them up.
He gave a considering grunt. "I'll accept that argument."
"Used a lot of sunscreen. Had good work gloves and overalls."
"Pretty girls got to stay pretty, I guess." He slapped her butt, ignored her
protest, and pushed up off the mattress with finality. He paused at the door.
"So what are you going to do now that the sunscreen's all used up? There's
plenty of room over here on the redneck side of things, girl."
"I'll get a big hat. A sombrero."
"That can be the last thing you take off when you do me a proper striptease."
He darted out like that might make her mad.
It just gave her the opportunity to get the last word, calling out "You wish!"
after he was a few steps away and most likely wouldn't turn back to have a dumb
fight.
Beth folded her hands together and thought about what they'd done, what she had
done with them. She curled into a ball, full to bursting with feeling, but even
with part of that being embarrassment and shock at herself, she wound up
grinning, stretching out and enjoying how the air felt cool against her even in
the warm afternoon sunlight that filled the room.
Stepping back into the area they all lived in always felt dangerous after she
and Merle had gone off together. Beth put it off, sitting down where she'd left
her notebook to finish writing down the song that she'd been busy with. Then
for good measure she walked back into Cellblock C while writing another one,
hoping to avoid anybody starting a conversation with her right off. She did
some work, scrubbing up around the kitchen area, doing inventory on the guns
and ammunition, tearing sheets into strips and passing them to Daddy to
sterilise for makeshift bandages, taking Judith for a while, and helping out
with supper.
Was it ever going to be conspicuous that she went out of her way not to serve
Merle when it came to dishing up for people? She sure wasn't starting today.
She couldn't help glancing his way either, once everybody was seated, and it
seemed like he was having the same problem, because Merle caught her eye
immediately. Just as immediately, he looked away - they couldn't let their
gazes meet for long. Significant eye contact would be way too suspicious.
But there was something about him - how he was sitting and holding himself -
that made her keep looking. Beth watched from the corner of her eye as he
stretched up where he sat on the stairs ... popping his back with an arch that
stuck his chest out, and then he licked one of his fingers slowly, thoroughly
clean, lips pouted all saucily.
A while later, Maggie said, "Okay, so if you can't actually tell us why you're
laughing, could you try and show if you think you'll ever stop? Just make,
like, a hand signal." Then she snorted and gave Beth a pat on the back, and on
the other side, Carol patted her too, probably smiling. Face buried in her arms
as she laughed, resting on the tabletop, Beth couldn't tell.
Nothing wrong with playing little games, now was there?
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