Work Text:
The dulcet sounds of Marvin Gaye's plaintive songs about love made for an excellent soundtrack to kissing. Glenn figured that was a generally true statement, but it felt extra true with Daryl's hands in his hair and his lips doing the best to show Glenn's mouth a good time. His mouth tasted like red wine and their bodies were nicely pressed together on the couch. It almost felt like Daryl had taken him home or something, instead of them hiding away in a giant building surrounded by horrible things.
“You taste like wine.” Glenn mumbled against Daryl's lips as the older man pressed small kisses over his lips.
“So do you.” He mumbled and his lips pulled away and went still. Glenn looked up at him. The redneck had a pensive look on his face and the younger man felt a stab of apprehension.
“What's wrong?” Daryl's hands were still in his hair, and his thumbs kept skimming across his scalp, but his silence was convincing Glenn that something had gone awry.
“Nothin'...just...” Daryl gave him a small smile. “Just yer real fuckin' cute.”
Glenn let out a laugh. “Thanks?”
The sound of the tape deck clicked off.
“Shit. You want more music or somethin'?” Daryl asked, going in for another kiss.
Glenn didn't bother answering right away. Kissing was more interesting.“Yeah, can I pick?”
“Sure thing.”
Despite that assertion, Daryl made no move to get off of Glenn. That left the younger man with no choice but to wiggle out from underneath him. Daryl had packed up a couple of tapes in his bag besides the Marvin Gaye one, and Glenn rifled through them. He picked up one in a clear case with no sleeve. The only thing distinguishing on the tape was a sticker that said “Mix For Daryl” in neat print.
“Hey what's this one?” Glenn held it up, making Daryl pay attention from the bottle he was opening. He let out a laugh.
“Oh fuck. Someone made that for me a long-ass time ago...”His smile fell a little, but he forced it up. “It's a bunch of romantic shit.”
“Oh.” Glenn put it back in the bag but Daryl waved at him to stop.
“Naw, you can put it on. It's good.” He took a swig from the bottle.
“You sure?” Glenn turned the tape over in his hands.
“Yeah.” Daryl looked at him with a kind of softness Glenn wasn't used to seeing on the redneck, like he was trying to tell him something besides to put on the tape. It wasn't the first time, but Glenn got the urge to reach out, curl up in the other man's arms, and never leave. It was such a strong, sweeping sensation that it always left Glenn feeling too vulnerable. Like it was a bad idea, like feeling that kind of thing was stupid as hell because it didn't account for what the other person might feel. But Daryl was looking at him like he was feeling it too.
Glenn popped the tape in and pressed play. A familiar melody started and made Glenn leap to his feet.
“Oh my god I love this song!”
“Can you hear me calling
Out your name
You know that I'm falling”
Fleetwood Mac always brought happy feelings, and Glenn could remember listening to that particular song over and over again when he was a kid. His mom had been a big fan too, and he'd stolen her albums to listen to on his own before he realized that it was the height of uncool to do that. He hopped and spun to the tune, singing along and not caring that he was acting like a fool in front of someone who he wanted to think he was cool.
“Ohhhh Iiiiii wanna be with you everywhere!” Glenn sang along loudly and badly.
“Christ, yer gonna murder my ears over here.” Daryl laughed, and the sound was just as good as the music.
“Get up.” Glenn beckoned him with both hands. “Dance with me. C'mon, you're drunk enough.”
Daryl scoffed, still grinning, but he put aside the bottle, got up, and took Glenn's hands in his own. Neither of them could really dance effectively with a partner, so they spun each other around, swung their arms, and tried not to stumble on each other's feet. They managed to get through the song without knocking each other over.
“Yer pretty good.” Daryl puffed out before letting himself fall to the couch.
“You are too.” Glenn laughed. The tape went silent before a slow, organ sound began joined by a woman sighing out.
“I love you, I love you...oh yes, I love you.”
Glenn stopped, slightly flustered by the way the singer sounded like she was in the throes of some damn good sex as she sang out the words, only to be counterpointed by a man calmly responding.
“Oh I go, and I come, inside you my love.”
Remembering Daryl's little performance the night before, Glenn crouched down, rewound the tape to the beginning of the song, and pressed play. The sound of the previous song faded again, and this time when the song began Glenn rose to his feet and swayed his body to the sighs and swells of the song. As the man in the song sang about going and coming inside of his love, Glenn closed his eyes, rolled his hips and lifted his arms. He stretched out his hands, and folded them behind his head, arching his back.
Glenn opened his eyes and looked back at Daryl. He had to stop himself from laughing when he saw the slack-jawed and wide-eyed expression on the redneck's face. Instead he gave him the sultriest, most seductive look he could think of. With his eyes half-lidded, Glenn bit down on the corner of his bottom lip. As he turned towards the seated man, he let it go and passed his tongue along it, giving Daryl just a hint of it. The music played on, and Glenn pulled his shirt up and over his head as it swelled in the refrain and the woman singing started to sound like she was definitely going to cum at any moment.
When Glenn got on his hands and knees, crawling towards the redneck like a seasoned stripper going in for their tip, he couldn't help notice that Daryl looked like he might follow the female singer's example. He was flushed and was shifting his ass, clearly unable to find a comfortable position. Glenn laid his hands on the other man's knees and pushed them apart. The bulge between his legs told the younger man that his moves were working.
“You like it?” Glenn breathed out, rising between Daryl's legs and unbuttoning his pants.
“Yeah.” Daryl's voice sounded strangled. Glenn turned and bent over to push his pants down, and the older man's hands grasped his ass. The younger man slapped them away.
“No touching.” He kicked away the pants, pushed Daryl's knees back together, and straddled his lap. “Don't you know the rules?” He put his arms around the older man's neck and sat down on his legs. “You can't touch the person dancing for you.” His hips moved in circles and Daryl's face was transformed into a rictus of pain.
“Oh c'mon, you touched me when I was doin' it!” He protested, his hands hovering close to Glenn's ass.
The woman in the song let out a series of high, breathy moans, and Glenn arched back and rocked his hips with each one. When her voice fell into a shuddering, low sigh, he locked eyes with the redneck, and leaned in close so that his lips were next to his ear.
“Do as I say, not as I do.”
Daryl let out a helpless groan, but nodded. Glenn smirked as he rose up and turned, giving the older man another good look at his ass.
“Where the hell didya get them moves?” Daryl gulped, letting out a whimper as Glenn pushed down his underwear slow enough to make it hurt. “You don't look like the kind to go to strip clubs.”
The younger man let out a laugh, and pushed down the last remaining thing on his body. “Don't assume.” He sat back down in the older man's lap and the song ended with the strings, organ, and guitar fading. “What, you think just 'cause I've got this cute face that I don't have the moves?”
Glenn slid closer so that his ass was right on top of Daryl's hard on, and he rocked his hips, arching up and holding onto the back of Daryl's neck. The redneck let out a shuddering sigh that sounded like the word “fuck,” but that had way too many syllables for it to be it.
“Go on daddy.” Glenn let it slip before he could think about it, but Daryl shivered pleasantly at it. “Now you can touch.”
As soon as Glenn spoke Daryl had his hands on his ass and was squeezing him and bringing him in as close as possible.
“Fuck.” Daryl scrambled to toss off his own shirt. “Yer too goddamn good at that.” He unbuckled his belt, and shimmed out of his pants, holding Glenn still while he did it. “Got me ready to burst.” That was accurate. Daryl's cock was stiff and glistening at the tip. “Wanna do this every night with you.”
The words were spoken in a fit of arousal, but they made Glenn pause. He turned Daryl face up towards him. “Really?”
The older man looked him in the eye. “I'd be a damn fool not to.”
Glenn wasn't sure how to respond to that declaration, so instead he kissed the older man and slid down to his knees. Daryl didn't say anything, but he spread his legs, and combed his fingers through Glenn's hair as the younger man went in with his tongue. Glenn had sucked enough dick in the past to know how to use his mouth effectively, but he'd never had anyone make the noises that Daryl was making. They started off as grunts, turned into sharp inhales, and ended as needy whimpers. Then Daryl started talking.
“Jesus fuck, please, don't stop that. Oh Christ, you-” His voice broke into a surprisingly loud groan as Glenn worked his way down before deciding it would be easier to use his hand in tandem with his mouth. Sober he could probably deep throat Daryl with no problems, but right now he didn't want to trigger his gag reflex. Being drunk plus gagging never ended up well.
“You do that so good.” Daryl fell back against the couch, his hands still holding onto Glenn's head. “Yer mouth-” Glenn looked up at him, and drew back until only the very tip of the older man's cock was between his lips. He moved his tongue over the slit, and watched as Daryl tensed and lost control of his breathing. The gush of fluid against his tongue was bitter, but he swallowed anyways.
Daryl was quiet now. Instead of speaking, he gently tugged at Glenn's hair and got him to rise up and rest on top of him on the couch. They shifted until Daryl had Glenn laying down on his side, holding him close as he stroked him. He still didn't say anything, and Glenn wondered if the older man had used up all the speech he was capable of for the night. It didn't matter, because Daryl was kissing him so sweetly, and looking at him like Glenn was too good to be true. His palm was so hot, and when Daryl spit in it it moved so good, and Glenn didn't care about anything other than all the good things that he was feeling with the older man. All he had in his mind was the refrain of that song.
“I love you, I love you...”
“Oh God I love you.”
Daryl's held him tight as Glenn came, making a mess of the both of them. The air conditioning hummed and blew down cool air, making any skin that wasn't in contact with the other go goose-pimply. It was too uncomfortable to tolerate, so Daryl grabbed one of the blankets Dr. Jenner had given them and pulled it over the both of them. The couch was a tight squeeze for two people to lay on, but the closeness was welcome.
**
The thud and cursing woke Glenn up with a start. Daryl hauled himself back up onto the couch and hunched over.
“Shit. Didn't mean to wake ya.” He held his head between his hands. “Shit.”
“You ok?” Glenn asked, and the words rang way too loud in his skull. “Ow.”
“Yeah. Drank too much wine.”
“Yeah.” Glenn cracked a smile. “But it was fun.” He ran his hand up and down Daryl's back. “Real fun.”
The older man nodded, but that pensive look was back. “Because of the wine?”
“What? No.” Glenn sat up, wincing. “Because of the dancing and the other stuff.” He scooted closer to Daryl. “If I wasn't so hungover I'd probably be trying to get you to go another round.”
Daryl didn't say anything. He was good at that. But he placed a kiss on Glenn's neck. He was good at that too.
“Wanna hop in the shower with me?” The younger man asked.
Daryl nodded. Glenn knew that he was going to have to make sure the older man knew for certain that he wanted to be with him. But he was ready to do that if it meant having Daryl hold him and touch him like he did the night before. Especially if it meant having Daryl look at him like he was now, like he was in love and happy despite the pain and sickness of being hungover.