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It had taken far more stealth and sneaking that Rick had expected to get out of the house. Normally he would have just climbed out the window, down the trellis and bolted across the lawn before his parents saw. However the shoulder and the cracked ribs made that plan much more difficult. But Rick had Daryl’s voice in his ear, heavy with the promise of more of what they’d shared this afternoon. Then it came to him. Snatching up his cell phone, thrilled to see a message from Daryl that just read ‘bleachers', Rick placed a quick call to Glenn.
“Hey, man, I need you’re help gettin' outta the house tonight.”
“Hey Rick. Uh, I’m not sure,” Glenn hesitated. “Don’t you think you’re in enough trouble? You’re already on lock down. Your parents made sure everyone knows...”
He didn’t want to do it, he really didn’t, but the thought of being with Daryl again, away from prying eyes, drove him on.
“Hey, remember when I drove you out to the farm and you nearly got caught sneakin' into Maggie's bedroom window and I distracted Mr Greene long enough for you to hide?”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
“What do you need?”
“An inflatable mattress and a distraction.”
Rick ate a silent dinner with his parents, refusing to join the conversation or acknowledge them at all. It was all stuff he’d heard before anyway. Why was he acting out like this? Was he struggling at school? Were those boys bullying him? Was it peer pressure? Rick was sick of trying to explain, of his parents refusing to listen so now he just sat in silence. When dinner was done, he loaded the dishwasher and returned to his room to wait impatiently. He changed his clothes half a dozen times until finally settling on a blue tank top and black short sleeved shirt over the top with his denim cargo shorts.
Just as the grandfather clock in the hall struck seven, there was a noise from outside his window. Peering out, Rick saw Glenn positioning an inflatable mattress carefully. He glared at Rick for a minute then straightened, marching round to the front door with a determined strut, flipping the bird to Rick as he went. The second he heard Glenn knock, heard his friend say he had come to check on the inmate, Rick scrambled out the window, jamming his feet in the gaps of the trellis, griping the woody ivy tight and sending up a prayer to any gods that might be listening.
He made it part way down before the combination of his weight on his one good arm and the aging wood, already weakened by the creeping ivy, brought him crashing down. He landed on the air mattress with a whoomph, gasping sharply as his injured shoulder banged the ground harder than he expected. He lay there for a long moment, breathing hard, then scrambled up when he heard Glenn wishing Mr and Mrs Grimes a goodnight, his footsteps pausing by the gate as he looked for Rick. Waving at his friend as he kicked the air mattress under the porch, smiling like a dope, the football player made a break for freedom.
Not for the first time, Rick bemoaned the fact that he couldn’t drive with his shoulder. But the thought of Daryl, lips wrapped around a cigarette, lip ring glittering in the late evening light, was enough to spur him on. A brief moment of worry crossed Rick’s mind as he walked. What was he doing? He should be concentrating on healing up and getting back on the field. Or studying extra hard. But instead he was sneaking out to spend time with the school bad boy, the boy he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since the day on the bleachers. Should he be doing this?
“Hey, you made it, “ a soft voice greeted him as he rounded the end of the bleachers.
Daryl was leaning against the struts, cigarette in hand, a dark figure in the evening shadows. Rick took him in, eyes travelling slowly from boots to the top of his head. Booted feet crossed at the ankles, ripped cargo shorts held up by a heavy, studded belt, mesh tank top that concealed just enough to be a tease and left his shoulders wonderfully bare. Thick leather cuffs encircled his wrists, a matching collar round his throat. His eyes were black lined again, setting the blue off perfectly, making his narrow face look almost ethereal. So many studs sparkled in his ears, revealed by his bound back hair. The lip ring was a different style, a snake instead of a plain ring, and Rick wanted to taste it so badly it hurt. Without another thought, all previous doubts vanishing in the face of Daryl’s stormy sea blue eyes, he crowded against the other teenager, cupping his jaw as he pressed their lips together, hard.
Daryl dropped his half smoked cigarette, hands flying up to grip Rick’s shirt, pulling him even closer. He had been wondering if the athlete would make it, if he had the balls to sneak out. He’d never admit it out loud but he’d been worried Rick wouldn’t show, that he would wuss out. Then he’d seen him come swinging round the fence, face drawn in concentration , brilliant blue eyes dark with serious thought. He looked gorgeous, curls a little messy, clinging to his sweat damp skin appealingly, sling so white against his black shirt, face almost stern. Then he heard Daryl’s voice and his face changed like magic. He looked so happy but there was an undertone of dark hunger in his gaze too.
Carefully, Rick traced the snake ring with the tip of his tongue, the textured surface making him shiver slightly. Then his plunged forward, tongue tracing a line across Daryl’s lips, begging entrance that the dark dressed boy granted happily. He couldn’t help the breathy moan that slipped out as Rick’s tongue (and really, when did he get so good with that?!) teased his tongue stud, rolling it gently. When he felt Rick’s hand slide down his back to cup his ass, Daryl gasped, hips rolling forward to grind against the football player’s hard body.
Their kiss was crazy hunger, like starving men finding a feast and gorging themselves. After a few minutes they eased back, lips still touching but much more softly, more caressing than devouring. It was still deep, an intense experience for them both as their tongues tangled and mapped tingling paths. Daryl began drawing back slowly, tugging Rick into the shadows under the bleachers where it was a little cooler but still light enough to see each other’s flushed faces. Rick’s fingers plucked at the mesh top, rubbing it against Daryl’s hot skin, feeling some of the smoothness under the material.
“Want to touch you,” Rick rumbled, tugging at the top again. “Take it off?”
Daryl smirked up at Rick, eyes glittering wickedly.
“And what’ll I get if I do?”
Shifting his stance slightly, the curly headed teen pressed one thigh between both of Daryl’s, grinding forward slowly. The black dressed youth’s eyes rolled back slightly at the wonderful pressure, a moan slipping from his parted lips. It changed to a whine of protest when Rick slid back a step.
“What do you want?” he asked, voice a teasing purr.
“More,” Daryl growled back. “Touch me, everywhere, anywhere. Just fucking touch me.”
Rick hummed, pretending to think about it, fingers tangling in the hem of Daryl’s shirt. His eyes were on the ground, studying the tips of Daryl’s boots, fingers grazing his skin occasionally, sending tingles of lust through him.
Just as the tattooed teen was about to snap, Rick lunged again, mouth slamming over Daryl’s, hard enough to cut his lip on the snake ring. His hand shot to Daryl’s belt, yanking it open with a few hard pulls. It was awkward to do this with one hand while still ravaging Daryl’s addictive mouth but he managed it. The moment his hand touched blood hot skin (no underwear, his brain practically screamed) Daryl’s back arched, a loud moan pouring from his mouth to shudder through Rick. Then the athlete began to explore, fingers mapping the impressive length, learning it with eager touches. As he moved up to trace the flare of the mushroom head, he froze.
“Yer pierced here too?” he asked breathlessly, eyes huge with shock and curiosity. Daryl’s cheeks, already flushed with arousal, darkened further, his eyes lowering slightly.
“Yeah...” he murmured back. Any more words were sharply bitten off as Rick began to explore in with intent. His fingers circled the flared head of Daryl’s cock, stopping when they reached the smoothness of metal. They rubbed the warm ring for a moment, learning it by touch alone.
“Fuck, Rick...” Daryl half whimpered, hips surging up to chase the teasing touches. Squirming suddenly, the black clad teen yanked his shirt off, tossing it on the ground.
Rick’s eyes drank in the sight of all the bare skin in front of him, eyes tracing the swirling name over Daryl’s heart, the cleanly defined lines of his muscles and hard nubs of his nipples. Dipping down slightly, the curly haired teen pressed a soft kiss to one hard bud, delighting in the gasp that drew from the other teen. Tentatively he licked it, the noises coming from Daryl giving him confidence to be more bold.
“Rick!” Daryl cried sharply, yanking back from the hot mouth tormenting his chest. He was breathing heavily, sweat making his long hair stick to his face, eyes huge and dark and hazy. Rick jerked back, frightened he’d gone too far, done something wrong.
Seeing the flash of panic on the injured teen’s face, Daryl reached out to care his fingers through his curls, smiling sheepishly.
“They’re a bit sensitive,” he explained in a low, embarrassed tone. “You keep that up and I’ll cum in my pants. That’s why they ain’t pierced.”
Rick’s eyes flew wide, pupils expanding like spilled ink as he crowded Daryl back and kissed him again, arm snaking round his waist to hold him close. They could feel each others erections, hot, heavy lengths trapped in their clothes.
“I wanna see this one,” Rick purred, rolling his hips to rub against Daryl, stealing his words and his breath. “I wanna see if it feels as good as the others.”
“Oh fuck, yes,” Daryl moaned, stumbling slightly as Rick slid to his knees, hand dragging down his body.
Rick hesitated for a moment, shocked at himself and his rash boldness. Here he was, under the bleachers with Daryl fuckin' Dixon, about to take his cock out and... Before he could chicken out, before he could talk himself out of something he wanted so desperately, he pulled the zipper completely down and drew Daryl’s throbbing cock into the late evening air. He could only stare at it for a long moment, taking in the length, width, the way the head was flushed dark red and damp. But it was the glistening silver hoop that held his attention.
“Sure like silver, don’t ya?” he commented with a smirk, eyes flicking up to Daryl’s before dropping back to the object of his attention.
“Gold ain’t really my style,” Daryl replied shakily, biting his lip as he watched Rick’s slick pink tongue slide over his plush lips. Slowly, Daryl pushed his fingers through Rick’s heavy curls, caressing him gently. “You... You don’t have to do anything...”
The words burned and died in his throat when those scorching blue eyes locked on his again.
“I know,” Rick murmured back. “Thank you.”
Daryl went to speak again, fighting the waves of lust washing through him, only to find himself reduced to loud moans as Rick leant forward and began lapping at the flared head of his dick. All thoughts flew from Daryl’s mind as he stood there with the most popular guy in school on his knees in front of him.
Rick was instantly addicted to this new sensation. Daryl’s cock was smooth and ridged, hot, throbbing, silk over steel. And then Rick’s tongue came to the ring. He flicked it carefully, listening for any sounds of discomfort, for anything that said Daryl wasn’t having a good time. When he saw those sea storm blue eyes flutter with pleasure, saw the kiss swollen lips fall open as Daryl panted harder, he felt a swell of pride. Slowly, gently, he began to suck on the smooth tip, the sensation of the ring against his tongue oddly wonderful. Trying to remember what he’d seen in that one porn movie, Rick began moving his head, bobbing slowly, taking a little more of Daryl’s long, wide cock each time.
Daryl could only gasp and moan as Rick worked him into a frenzy. He clutched at his curls, his good shoulder, hips moving of their own accord. He didn’t want to hurt Rick by thrusting too hard or deep but he couldn’t stay still. Rick’s good hand reached up, stroking over Daryl’s stomach and chest to calm him, when one of his nails caught Daryl’s nipple. A thundering wave of white hot pleasure roared through the tattooed teen, making him throw his head back and yell as he came hard.
Surprised, Rick jerked back, worried he’d hurt Daryl, most of the white streaks landing on his neck and chest. He could taste a little of the release in his mouth, a bit salty but not entirely unpleasant. Looking up at Daryl made him smile, made him feel wild and proud and powerful. For a moment he could forget his own raging hard on as he watched Daryl’s beautiful, blessed out face.
His knees wouldn’t hold him and Daryl sank to the ground, folding up right in front of Rick who instantly wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close.
“Never... cum like that before,” Daryl murmured, face half smooshed against Rick’s neck. “Never been touched by anyone else before neither.”
The words were soft, almost unheard, but Rick caught them and felt his heart fill to bursting. He was Daryl s first!
“Me neither,” he admitted just as softly, pressing a tiny kiss behind Daryl’s ear. “Hope I didn’t get it wrong.”
“Didn’t bite it of, count that as a win,” Daryl chuckled back. He could feel his cum cooling between them, sticking Rick’s shirt to his own hard chest. That’s when he felt it.
“Let me see you,” he whispered, leaning back to look into Rick’s azure eyes. “I wanna see you now.”
Swallowing hard, Rick nodded, his heartbeat rocketing as Daryl moved his hands slowly down his chest. He pulled Daryl’s face closer, kissing him gently, licking the snake ring, as trembling fingers worked open his shorts.
“Might not last long,” Rick mumbled into Daryl’s mouth. “Got all worked up watchin' you.”
“Then I better hurry,” Daryl grinned back, pushing Rick down flat so he could get where he wanted.
The moment Daryl’s warm, slightly calloused hand touched his aching cock, Rick groaned loudly, bucking up into the grip. Daryl took a moment to admire Rick’s erection, the deeply red tip, the shine of pre-cum, the length of it (a little longer than his own but not quite as wide) before bending to press a kiss to the taut flesh just about it. The way Rick twitched and gasped, hitching his hips, wordlessly begging for Daryl to do something, anything, was very arousing. Unable to refuse the tiny, desperate noises the football player was making, Daryl ducked a little lower and ran his tongue across the dusky pink tip.
Pleasure raced like fire through Rick at that small touch, his eyes rolling back as Daryl really got to grip with his work. When his lips closed around Rick’s cock, the textured metal of the snake ring drag/sliding along his over-sensitive flesh, he cried out something like Daryl’s name, body stretching taut. The tongue stud pressed into the little bundle of nerves under the head of his cock, catching slightly then dragging free and with it went Rick. He yelled as the fire in his veins exploded, burning everything in the most blissful way.
Rocking back on his heels, Daryl grinned, wiping a hand across his chin. He’d felt Rick clench up, felt his muscles bunch, trembling under the goth teen’s touch and had released his suction grip just in time to watch Rick lose himself, shooting white streaks over his own stomach, some even landing on Daryl’s chin. While he waited for Rick to come back from the stars, Daryl let his eyes wander, his fingers close behind.
The shirt and tank top were pretty much a disaster, covered in sweat and grass and cum. They had bunched up under Rick’s arms, exposing his flat, taut stomach and the ladder of his ribs. The bruises were fading slowly but still stood out in ugly greens, browns and yellows against his otherwise golden skin. Daryl frowned, a spike of anger driving through him at the thought of the pain Rick had suffered.
“That’s not the face ya wanna see after something like that,” Rick’s smooth, syrupy Southern drawl cut through his thoughts, drawing Daryl’s eyes up to the other teen’s face.
Rick was smiling, soft and gentle, whole body relaxed and radiating contentment. Daryl couldn’t help smiling back, something huge and warm welling in his chest as those bright blue eyes crinkled at him.
“Sorry, was thinkin' about your bruises,” Daryl murmured, moving to lay next to Rick, face to face. Turning slightly, Rick brushed his lips over Daryl’s, just a tender, sweet touch that was a distraction and a thank you all in one. The athlete hissed, touching his cut lip with a smirk.
“Hope it’s not a venomous one,” he giggled, still kissing Daryl between words. Quickly wriggling out of his shirt, with much help, Rick used it to clean them both up as much as he could before laying back down, curled close to Daryl.
They lay together, touching, talking softly, as it got darker. Daryl shared his cigarettes, stealing many kisses between drags, while Rick drew patterns on his skin with his fingers. Eventually, close to midnight, they reluctantly agreed it was time to head home.
“Think you can sneak out again tomorrow?” Daryl grinned as Rick balled up his shirt and tank top, both so dirty there was no point wearing them.
“I think I probably can,” Rick grinned back, stepping close to kiss Daryl for a bit, not caring about the sting from the cut. “But on one condition.”
“Oh? What might that be?” Daryl asked, a little breathless from Rick’s pass on.
“Go on a real date with me? Movie, dinner, club, paintballing, anything you want, just... A real date.”
The look in those burning eyes, hopeful, vulnerable and terrified, was an exact mirror of what Daryl was feeling and, somehow, that helped settle his nerves.
“Sure, how about dinner and we go to a club I know? Friday okay for ya?”
Rick’s smile lit up the night as he pulled Daryl in for a deep, breath stealing kiss.
“Perfect.”