Reciprocity

He ignored her and ate. It was Chance's turn to be annoyed. "Well, you wanted to know all about me earlier, I'm just trying to know you better. Let's have some of that reciprocity I was talking about earlier." She curled her fingers under her chin and batted her eyes, begging cartoonishly.

He met her eyes as he spooned another bite into his mouth. His steady blue gaze sent a thrill up her spine. Gods, he's cute.

She sighed. "Fine. You want to know about me, I'll tell you all about me." She searched his face for signs of approval or not. He scraped his bowl.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, sure. Let's see... I'm originally from Colorado—" she saw the faintest hint of surprise on his face—"and yes, I got here After the world changed. I struck out East with my family when it all started, my Dad was military and worked for the government, so we thought we'd find something in D.C., some hope or a plan to fix things." She looked at her feet. "We didn't get that far before we got torn apart. I lied, before. I wasn't alone, for a long time. My brother and I stuck together for most of it. We found people, we tried to settle a couple times but it—it didn't work out.

"After that, him and me decided D.C. was as good a guess as any. We traveled through the end of winter and spring until we reached it. By the time we did, we weren't too surprised when it was all gone to shit, just like the rest of the cities. After that, we kept on keeping on the way we always did. We'd steal."

Daryl set down his bowl for Dog to lick and crossed his arms.

"Hey, I get it. It's not to everybody's taste, I know. But we had a code—I still have a code. I never take what I don't need, and I don't ever take it all."

Daryl squinted at her. Chance reiterated, staring him down, "Ever. I don't want to kill anybody, and stealing all of someone's shit is basically the same as killing them out here. I don't care if you believe me or not, but it's the truth." She stared into the fire again, face as cheery as ever, but tinged with the sadness of he past. "I lied when I said I'd do anything, too. If these last years have taught me anything, it's that 'whatever it takes to survive' is dangerous. I need to live with myself, or not at all."

Daryl nodded again, empathetic this time. He did not press the issue further; he appreciated the look on her face that told him all he needed to know about her.

"Alright," he said softly. "I believe you." She took a deep breath and exhaled, closing her eyes and letting the past drift away, returning to the present. Daryl spoke again.

"Where's yer brother?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "I wish I did. I think he's ok—he's older, and tougher than me even, he should be ok." It was clear that this was something she told herself as much as anyone else; she needed to believe it.

"I had a brother. We started this thing together; he was a tough sonuvabitch too. Biggest asshole you'd ever met though." Daryl almost smiled, reminiscing about Merle. He could see now that he was better off without him, and that he had held him down all his life, but he still missed the fucker. Chance chuckled.

"Not Charmer—that's my brother. He was a jerk sometimes, but I'm his kid sister, it comes with the job. Mostly he protected me."

They glanced at each other, sharing rueful smiles. The fire was starting to die. Chance leaned forward on her hands and knees to add another log. As she did, the quilt fell down her shoulders and Daryl saw as she stretched, catlike, and this time, he did not look away as her torso was exposed, revealing her faded blush-colored bra and creamy skin. Chance had little to no regard for modesty, and she did not see him as he traced her body with his eyes, starting with a snake tattoo that wrapped around her wrist and ate its own tail. They roamed over a few small scars and one large one that originated from her left hip, under the blanket, and slashed upwards towards her right shoulder blade. Blue eyes landed on another tattoo in the middle of her back. It was a small, five-pointed star, in solid black. She was fit from years of climbing trees and fighting walkers, but her skin shimmered where stretch marks striped her hips from a better-fed lifestyle. He looked away immediately when she sat back. She noticed, but, again, said nothing and smiled secretly.

Daryl cleared his throat and spoke.

"Um, 'fore we go to bed,"—she tried not to make a suggestive face—"or, uh, to sleep, I got a couple'a more questions for ya." Chance turned her whole body toward him attentively.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

Chance blew air and shook her head. "I have no clue. A fuck ton, probably."

"How many people have you killed?"

Her face darkened again, the past threatening to rise up again. Daryl saw this, but let her react in her own way. She closed her eyes and let it wash away, just like the dead ones in the river. "Eight."

"Why?"

She opened her eyes and gazed straight into Daryl's. Without her smile, the look was intense. Her green eyes met his blue ones and she answered evenly, as if she had an answer ready.

"To protect my family, my life, and my honor."

"Yer honor?" Daryl did not understand right away, so she clarified.

"You know...a lady's honor."

"Oh, r-right." Daryl blushed again, ashamed. Chance smiled; she could not help it; the blush was so sweet. She looked at him. Taking advantage of the newly reinvigorated fire to inspect his features. Despite his dark hair constantly falling in his face, she could see clearly the facial hair that ran along his jaw and strong chin. His cheeks were structured well—even blushing wildly, they looked razor-sharp, especially in the high contrast of the lighting of the fire. His hooded eyes were enhanced by the deep lines cutting under them and the brilliance of the blue of his irises. A single mole on his lip prompted a quirk in her grin—if she had wanted to tease him, she would have called it a beauty mark. Later, she thought. Right now, I want...something else.

"It's ok," she said, "I don't take it personal." Her tone had dropped.

He looked at her just in time to see her bite her lower lip seductively.

It shocked him how much he liked it. Her eyes continued to stare at him, lidded slightly but never losing intensity. He stared back, in surprise; his lips parted slightly as he felt his manhood stir slightly. He could not—no, would not believe she wanted him like that. It was a fluke, or a shift in the light, or maybe she was confused. He had to be at least fifteen, no, twenty years her senior, and with her out here by herself for so long—well. She was probably just as lonely as him. That was no excuse.

He shot up to his feet suddenly, breaking the gaze and cursing at himself internally for thinking such filth about a girl he barely knew. He could hear Merle's disgusting commentary and admonishments in his ears now. She watched him and stood up as well, confused.

Daryl stammered in his low, husky tones, "W-well, I 'spose you can take the bed, if ya want, I'll jus' sleep on the couch."

"Why?"

He unprepared for such a blunt response and struggled to find his next words. He growled;

"It's better than sleepin' in a pile o' leaves in the woods, I don' care."

Chance stepped closer, making Daryl acutely aware of how damn close she was already. Now, he could practically feel her body heat radiating onto his exposed chest. She smelled like dry leaves and honey.

"Daryl."

"Hm?" he responded, looking to the side awkwardly to avoid looking at her. The sound of her name on her lips did nothing to help his arousal.

"I want to sleep with you. In the bed."

Oh, she did it. She said it out loud. He went to look at her face, but could not stop a lightning fast glace down at her chest, which she was slowly exposing with the quilt falling, lower and lower. His eyes immediately went to the ceiling instead, but she had already seen it, and her soft smirk turned into an evil grin.

Daryl's throat was so, so dry. He wished he had some damned water. He wished this beautiful girl would back off and say it was all a joke so he could forget about her. He desperately wished she would touch him, too.

He scoffed, trying to throw her. "How old are ya, even? Twelve?"

Chance let her eyes wander his naked chest, bringing up her hands to lightly brush his massive arms. She felt him shudder, involuntarily, and replied:

"Old enough... I'm a grown-ass woman." She returned her eyes to his, and used one hand to touch his face. He flinched, but let her cup his jaw so he would look at her. His face was serious and pleading. Her smile weakened, less convinced.

"Hey," she reassured, "I thought, maybe, you wanted this...?"

"'Want ain't the issue." He cupped her shoulders firmly, pushing her away slightly. He bent down a little to level his face with hers. "Ya don' really want me. I ain't a good guy."

She straightened a little, insolently.

"Don't tell me what I want. And don't level with me like a kid—" she swatted at his hands—" I want you and that's all there is to it... and if you want me back..."

She let the quilt drop completely, falling around her feet. He felt her skin goosebump under his hands at the sudden cold.

"...then what are we even talking about?"

Daryl saw her smirk return, still impish and lopsided, but softer. She held her lips delicately open, and her deep eyes bored into his, waiting for him to decide. She leaned forward slightly, and Daryl watched her—

And then she stopped. His eyes flicked down to her ready lips, poised perfectly, then back to her eyes. They were lidded lustfully. It was a challenge; reciprocity returning to haunt him. He had to meet her halfway.

All the doubts in Daryl's mind raged for a split second; to both of them, it felt like an eternity. Time had taught him to be patient and take less risks.

All that meant nothing to him in that moment, he realized.

"Fuck it."

Daryl closed his eyes and his grip on her shoulders relaxed. As he stepped closer, his hands came down to her hands, and he discovered that he desperately wanted to hold onto them, to signal to her that he wanted this and that she could trust him. Chance took them gladly as their lips touched, ever so slightly, in a tentative kiss. As they brushed together, she stepped the last step and pressed her body against his. He let his body relax into her warmth and deepened the kiss hesitantly, his mind still reeling as her breasts pressed into his chest through the bra.

She impatiently deepened it further, sucking tenderly on his bottom lip, then his top, then pressing her tongue suggestively against his lips, begging for more.

Daryl let go of her hands and reached around her, tightening into an embrace around her waist, his thumb tracing her scar and grazing the waistband of her shorts. Her own hands moved to massage his chest, narrowing her shoulders so she could fit into him better and be embraced as completely as possible.

Daryl's tongue was warm and slightly salty as it slid into her mouth, dancing around her own tongue slowly. They savored the passionate kiss for a minute, swaying back and forth as they explored each other's mouths. There was nowhere to go and nothing to do, and each was determined to enjoy every second.

It was Chance who broke the kiss, pulling away gingerly. She let her eyes remain closed, while Daryl opened his to look at her face fondly. She opened her eyes after a satisfied sigh, and looked up at his face. She chortled, prompting a chuckle of Daryl's own.

"Wow," she whispered.

"Mmn." He leaned forward to kiss her again, but she craned away slightly, stopping him.

"The fire's dying."

"Mmmhmmn." He turned his attention to her exposed chest, leaning down to kiss the top of her breast. She sighed in pleasure. His raspy beard was tickling her, and it was amazing, but...

"...and Dog is watching us."

Daryl froze a moment before straightening and looking over her shoulder at the dog, who was, indeed, watching them from next to the embers, oblivious. Daryl chuckled. He reluctantly broke away from her to disperse the last of the coals and put the fire out. He turned to face her to find she had followed him, not wanting to be even more than a few feet apart from him.

"Maybe...we move this to the bedroom," he suggested.

"Yeah." She quipped, "as much as I want you to take me right here and now..." Her grin was devilishly crooked as she backed away, catching his hands in hers once more and leading him to the door of the next room. That grin drove him crazy a few hours ago, but now, he was losing his mind with desire whenever she even looked in his direction. He allowed himself to be led by her, hypnotized by that evil smile and suggestive, large eyes.

Daryl closed the door most of the way, leaving it open in case there was an emergency. He hoped Dog would take a hint and leave them alone for the night, but he did not have the heart to shut out the mutt entirely. Chase said nothing of it, focused on leading Daryl to the bed and all the things she had planned for him. As she backed up, the back of her legs hit the bed, and she lost her balance. She flopped onto her back, laughing breathlessly.

Daryl lost no time taking advantage of her prone position, kneeling to the floor and taking her leg in his hand. Her eyes rolled and she bit her lip again at the touch of his coarse, experienced hands, and he continued to caress her thighs, first with one hand, then adding another, becoming surer of himself in light of her clear approval. She whimpered as he swept his fingers from below her cotton shorts down the length of her legs, bringing them under her calves to lift and set each one on his shoulders. She closed them slightly around his neck, reveling in this vulnerability. She brought her arms up to support her neck, affording her the best view of his face and hands.

Daryl brought his hands up once more, one to her waistband, pulling the neat bow there undone, and the other to her bare belly, rubbing his thumb along her bellybutton gently. As soon as they were untied, he hooked his fingers under the top and slide them down. Chance gasped quietly as he pulled, the cool air exposing her skin and his attentive eyes boring into hers, a smile playing on Daryl's lips. As they came over her bottom, she arched her back a little, letting him undress her more smoothly. The cotton waistband slipped down her bottom and over her legs, where Daryl let her remove her legs from his shoulders as he brought them off before placing them again. He looked up.

His eyes flicked up to her face, looking for any doubt, any hesitation in it before he went any further. Daryl saw none; he only felt her hand on the side of his face as Chance tenderly held it, gazing at him with assurance and lust. His own want had reached its peak, throbbing uncomfortably in his jeans.

Without looking away from her, Daryl reached his hand to the soft tuft of black hair between her legs. His expression changed from doubt to certainty, watching her as his thumb finally touched her anxious pussy. She jumped almost imperceptivity. He found what he was looking for quickly, and began to rub her clit in little circles, experimenting with his speed and pressure. Chance moaned and let her eyes flutter as he worked, giving him encouraging whimpers when he sent tiny jolts through her. He soon found his rhythm and kept at it, relentlessly working her for minutes on end. She felt her pleasure beginning to build, and her whimpers became needier as it did. His hands were so warm and strong...

He briefly stopped before slipping his index and middle fingers along her slit, testing her wetness. She moaned aloud and he spoke, barely above a husky whisper.

"Damn."

With that, he drove those two fingers into her, a little rougher than he meant. She inhaled sharply, delighted in spite of (or maybe because of) the force.

"Sorry," he apologized, "It's been a while."

Chance propped herself onto her elbows. "That's ok." Daryl gazed into her eyes and smiled a rare full smile before giving her a few pumps with his hand, his thumb still on her clit. Her eyes widened and her mouth relaxed. She loved this.

He could do this all night, but his own erection was becoming impatient. He rose from the floor and picked her up from the bed. Surprised, Chance clung to his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist to avoid falling. She caressed his chiseled arms, further aroused by his strength. He could feel her wet spot on his belly.

He sat on the side of the bed, closer to the pillows and blankets piled carelessly there. He loosened his grip on her and held her as she settled astride him. Her tits were inches from his face. He pushed her hips down and she responded by grinding the bulge in his pants. He fiddled with the back of her tattered bra and slipped it off her shoulders. Chance tossed it away unceremoniously.

Daryl only needed a moment to marvel at her creamy tits before taking a rose-colored nipple in his mouth. Chance watched him suckle it, winding her hands through his hair and pulling him closer to her. As he circled his tongue around the hard nub, she sighed luxuriously, then exclaimed softly as he bit it tenderly. His hand came up to massage her other breast harshly, taking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and tugging it occasionally. Her hands drifted down his chest and began searching for the button and zipper on his pants.

She searched for a few moments more before Daryl pulled away. The jeans were a little too tight for her to do it herself. They chuckled.

"Here." Daryl nudged her off of him to stand in front of him as he undid the cursed pants and pushed them off over his bare feet. As he did so, he eyed her lustfully. In the lamplight, her naked form waited impatiently. She bit her lip again when they came down over his waist and his cock sprang free. Chance never really prescribed to size fetishes, but the sight of his thick member slapping his belly made her ache for it.

She straddled him again, eagerly wrapping her arms around his neck and devouring a deep, sensuous kiss. His cock bumped against her, and Daryl grunted, needing to feel her around him. She rocked her hips, sliding the lips of her pussy up and down his shaft. She pumped him like this for only a few seconds before Daryl lost patience.

Chance found herself on her back, head against the pillows where Daryl had flipped her. He held her legs down, just under the back of her knees, as he adjusted his position and rubbed himself on her. He glanced at the new bandage around her thigh and caressed it, a small feeling of guilt coming and going inside him as he focused on the sensual task at hand.

His arousal made getting the right angle difficult, and he leaned down closer to her. They felt the head of his eager cock poise at her entrance. He could feel the heat of her pussy already trying to suck him in...

She drifted her hands up his arms and to his head. He looked up from his concentration and into her face. His and hers were less than an inch away, and she gazed at him, panting already. Her pupils had dilated, and her face relaxed into one of desire. Her breath shifted the stray hairs on his forehead, and he could see that her green eyes had rings of steely blue on the edges. He took her all in, saving the moment in his memories, never wanting to let it go.

He pushed his hips slowly and nudged her head with his. His cock pushed into her, and they both moaned as her lips spread tightly around his girth. He slid into her up to the hilt. He cursed under his breath.

Don't remember it bein' this fuckin hot, he thought. He held his position while Chance embraced his neck, still moaning. He let his head drop beside hers and began to withdraw. He did so until he was nearly out, then slid back into her. Her walls were already gripping him tightly. Chance gasped as he started to pump into her. The feeling of his girth grinding along the entrance to her pussy was too much, and she began to build again, quickly. Her moans became higher as she climbed, turning into whimpers of delight.