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Chapter 14

The next two weeks had been a whirlwind, Daryl and Paul had both been too busy with work and other such things to meet up. They'd met up once for lunch over the two weeks as it was coming to the holiday season and the work for the both of them had piled up more and more over the days so they hadn't been able to catch up. They'd both planned to meet up three weekends before Christmas as they managed to find a free space to fit both their busy schedules. Daryl had had a lot to think about since the night of Pauls art show. He wasn't sure where he and Paul stood on relationship terms. He didn't think they were ~boyfriends~ but they were definitely more than friends if anything. He didn't know if they were dating, if they were then Daryl felt he was doing a terrible job as their main source of communication the past weeks had been through text. Daryl just knew that when they held hands he was sure Paul was planning on initiating something more serious in the future, to which Daryl wanted too - he just wasn't sure how to express that. Daryl was excited to see him nevertheless. Daryl had invited him to his place since he's never been before, he was quite nervous as he never usually had anyone round at his house unless Rick and Glenn turned up (often uninvited but Daryl didn't mind). He tidied the whole house making sure no miscellaneous items of clothing were scattered on the floor, empty takeout food boxes were removed from every surface and he masked the distinctive stench of each room with some Febreeze air freshening spray. He'd never taken this many precautions before letting someone into his house before, he just didn't want to defer Paul as his apartment was so clean and fresh looking compared to Daryl's messy living quarters. Paul had worked out a cost for the painting he was selling to Daryl and so was taking it with him to finally settle the deal. Daryl had decided exactly where he was putting it - a space between the doors to the spare room and his bedroom in the hallway had a blank wall which it would fit just perfectly. Once the biker had tidied the whole house and dressed himself a little nicer than usual - a black button down and a pair of jeans which didn't possess holes in them, all he had to do left was wait. Eventually Paul turned up - 10 minutes late but better late than never. Daryl rushed to the door and opened it to reveal a grinning Paul, painting under his arm wearing a off-White woollen sweater, black skinny jeans and his round rimmed glasses. "Nice to finally see you again Mr Dixon, may I come in?" The artist cheekily smiled at the man in front of him, using a faux posh accent. Daryl scoffed and held open the door with his back, extending his arm directing Paul into his house. He was a little surprised when the younger man reached up to his face and pecked him on the cheek, making him burn bright red and freeze in disbelief. Paul didn't even make anything of it and just walked right into the lounge, slumping onto the sofa and letting out a sigh as he left Daryl still standing rigid in the doorway, blush still relentlessly present on his cheeks. Pauls lips felt soft and sweet against his left cheek, Daryl could still feel it lingering as he was relieved of his trance and joined him on the couch. "So, where you putting this thing?" Paul asked as he pointed at his painting which he has leaned carefully against the coffee table. "Got a spot in the hallway, you gonna help put it up?" Daryl drawled, sitting back up from the couch after just sitting down and stretching his arms in front of him, cracking his fingers. Paul grimaced at the sounds and screwed up his face before slowly standing up and nodding towards Daryl, following him out the room. Daryl brought him to the hall and showed him where he wanted to present his artwork before going to get a toolbox from one of the cupboards in the spare room. He came back with a hammer and some nails in hand and a pencil in his shirt pocket. Paul outstretched his arms as far as he could to hold up the painting on the wall whilst Daryl got an idea where he needed to place the nails. "Can you put it a lil' higher?" Daryl asked as he stood back from the wall to observe where exactly he wanted the canvas placed. Paul stretched a little higher, now on his tiptoes as Daryl rubbed the scruff on his chin before walking towards Paul and reaching up and making a mark wth the pencil where the nails should be to hang up the painting. He snickered as he saw Paul starting to struggle holding up the canvas on his tiptoes. "You can put it down bitesize, I got the marks down" Daryl smirked as he looked down at Paul who looked rather exasperated. "Bitesize?" Paul looked up at him, one eyebrow raised and an unimpressed look upon his face. "Yer small" Daryl guffawed, looking back to the wall and beginning to hammer the first nail into the wall. "I'm not that small, I'm like half a rulers length shorter than you" Paul scowled and let his lips form into a pout as Daryl lightly mocked him. "Still bitesize" Daryl side-eyed before hitting the last nail on the head and knocking it into the surface of his hallway wall. "Still kicked your ass" Paul mumbled under his breath before folding his arms and letting a small smirk bite at his lips. Daryl let out a sharp exhale and leered before asking Paul to hand him up the canvas, then carefully placing it so it was balancing on the newly present nails. Once he hung it up he also took a step back and folded his arms, admiring their teamwork. "Not too shabby" Paul turned and looked at Daryl, extending his hand towards him with his palm facing upwards. Daryl was unsure of how Paul wanted him to react and he hesitated before he slapped his own palm onto Pauls, grasping on to his hand before abruptly letting go and awkwardly shoving the hand into the back pocket of his jeans. Paul gave a sympathetic look towards the overtly baffled man and couldn't help but let out a small giggle at his general klutziness. Daryl shot a brief glare at the artist before heading back to the lounge. "So, am I getting a house tour?" Paul piped up to which Daryl swiftly turned on his feet, fumbling a little before finding a reply. "Uh... Yeah sure." He said, then as if he was an air hostess began pointing his fingers in different directions "Bathrooms down the hall to the left, bedrooms down there too, spare room and office to the right, kitchens through here" the biker directed giving a nonchalant expression towards Paul. "Wow. Insightful, really detailed, I love how you managed to give me a whole tour of your house within five seconds" The artist retorted, poker face in an overtly sarcastic tone. "Fine" Daryl grumbled, brushing past Paul in defeat and leading him down the hall to the rest of the rooms in his bungalow. Paul smirked in satisfaction as he followed the man out of the room and down the hall to the first room - the office. Daryl opened the door and let Paul inside and stayed leaning in the doorway. There was a desk with an office chair tucked underneath it and the rest of the room was piled with cardboard boxes of which on top of one rest a record player, a box next to it was filled with old vinyl records. From what Paul could see they were mostly rock and indie genre to his pleasure - him and Daryl hadn't really talked about their taste in music before. On the desk lay scatters of photographs, a pile of notepads and an empty coffee mug filled with pens and pencils. Daryl began to get shifty when Paul approached the photos and picked one up and started examining it with a look of focus on his face. "Did you take all these?" Paul asked, eyes still on the photograph - the one of the flame azaleas which Daryl had taken a couple weeks back. "Uh... Yeah" Daryl mumbled, clasping his hands together and tracing his fingers across his knuckles. "These are... Really good Daryl. Like really good you should sell them" "Hmm" Daryl hummed, looking down at his feet. "Really, people would buy these. You said this was just a hobby right? No class, nothing?" "Yeah, just, mom liked it, gave the camera to me" Daryl felt a hitch in his voice as he mentioned his late mother. "I'm impressed, you should look into it. Everyones usually up for making a little extra cash" Paul finally looked up from the pile of photos he was flicking through, some of which were the ones Daryl had secretly taken of his friends (mostly Glenn) to try and capture canon moments. Thankfully Paul didn't mention anything about them until he began to grin when he flicked to the last couple of photos in the pile. "How did I not see you take these?" The artist pondered as he stared endearingly at the pictures in front of him, all of which were of himself. Daryl's face turned ruby as he watched his friend swipe through the creeper shots he'd taken of him whilst he was unaware. "Before you defend yourself, I guess this makes us equal." Paul interrupted as soon as Daryl opened his mouth to do exactly that. "I painted you without your permission and you took photos of me so we're both as bad as each other" he then looked up and smiled at Daryl knowingly. Daryl, still blushing, looked down at his feet and motioned for Paul to follow him to the next room. Daryl then opened the door to the bathroom and just pointed inside. "Ain't much to see here" "Yeah just skip to the next room unless you want to show me how to work your shower" Paul flashed a shit-eating grin up to Daryl who in return barged into his side before swiftly leaving the doorway and heading to the bedroom. "Bedroom, ain't that exciting. Why you wanna see all this?" Daryl screwed up his face and flailed his arms out in confusion, it seemed almost out of character for the quiet man. Paul laughed at his motion - seeing Daryl be rather gesticulative and sarcastic was something quite rare and had only began to emerge recently since they became closer. Paul had started to notice the older mans rather satirical humour and quick wits the more he got to know him, it was very specific and Paul had never appreciated how quite humorous he was until recently. "I'm just curious. I showed you mine you'll show me yours right?" Paul smirked back at him, his mind was itching to make a "that's what she said joke" to quote the Office as now Daryl had watched the show he would understand the reference. The photographer narrowed his eyes at Paul trying to decipher his innuendo before grunting and punching him in the arm after his brain clicked. Paul looked around at the bedroom and his eyes were immediately drawn to the crossbow on the wall as he recalled Daryl mentioning his hunting hobby in the past. "You should teach me how to shoot some day, improve my chances of winning at the carnival games" Paul smiled at Daryl before reverting his eyes to the corner of the floor where there was a pile of disheveled clothes. "I woulda tidied but didn't know you were gonna take a damn tour" Daryl grumbled as he noticed what the smaller man was looking at. "It's a pile of clothes, you find them in every household" Paul chuckled at Daryl's slight embarrassment before heading out the room. "Spare rooms here" Daryl said before heading out the hall and to the only door they hadn't opened. Paul entered the room which contained a bookshelf which surprised him - he didn't take Daryl as the type to read a lot of books but the shelves were pretty full. In the corner of the room was also worn couch which was only a couple inches from the ground and to its left was a sunk-in bean bag. What caught Pauls attention was the guitar sitting on the stand next to the bookshelf. "You play?" He asked, a glint in his eyes as he walked over to the guitar and grabbed the neck before looking at Daryl for permission to take it from the stand. Daryl nodded and slumped on to the beanbag before replying, "nah, brother did. It's his" "Does... Does he still live here?" Paul hesitated as he asked the questions, he still didn't know much of anything about Daryl's family life. "Uh... Nah, he died a couple years back. Me an' him were left the place after Ma and Pa died though." Daryl mumbled fumbling with his hands. "Oh, I'm sorry" Paul replied quietly wishing he hadn't asked the question. He had wondered where Daryl's family were - it had never struck him that he didn't have any. But it then became clear as to why he spent a lot of his time with Rick and Glenn and their families as they treated him as their own. "Do you play any instruments?" The younger man then asked to swiftly change the subject. "Uh... Kinda... Used to play piano. Always fancied learning drums though" Daryl chewed at his cheek. "You'd be good at drums, you have the arms for it" Paul then looked up at him. "S'that supposed to mean?" Daryl furrowed his brows as he looked down at Paul with the guitar on his lap. "They're... Long" Paul kept his face deadpan as he mentally cursed at himself for the not so low-key comment on the older mans prominent muscles and biceps protruding in the arms of his shirt. Daryl just screwed up his face and raised his eyebrows before lifting his thumb up to his mouth and chewing on the skin. "So you don't play piano anymore? What stopped you?" Paul said to redeem himself of his precious comment before his blush became anymore visible. "Had ta sell it to some pawn shop when Ma died to help pay for the house, ain't played since then. They still got it at the shop, it's been there fer years now" "Why don't you get it back?" The younger man questioned as he began to tune the old guitar in his arms. Daryl shrugged before going back to biting his thumb. Paul then abruptly stood up, placing the guitar back on the stand. "Let's go get it then" he exclaimed, extending his hand out for Daryl to grab. Daryl scoffed and shook his head lightly as he observed the other mans impulsive decision. "I'm not kidding lets go, we can pay halves" Paul then stepped closer to Daryl and pulled him gently by his shirt. "Can't let you do that" The biker grumbled, a look of guilt forcing itself on to his face. "Well I'm doing it, it can be a Christmas present. Now let's go" the artist smiled willingly at Daryl before pulling his shirt more roughly so the man had no choice but to stand up and join him. Daryl grunted as Paul grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room and to the front door. Daryl, seeing that the smaller man would not give up on his offer and continue to be stubborn took his keys from the hook next to the door and made his way outside. "I can drive just tell me what pawn shop it is" Paul chirped as he took his car keys from his pocket, clicking them and unlocking the doors to the vehicle before hopping into the drivers side. Daryl joined him in the car at the passenger side and stretched his seatbelt, clicking it into place before letting out a sigh. Paul turned on the ignition and began reversing out of Daryl's driveway and driving down the stretch of road shaded by dense forest. Daryl told him it was the shop "next to Arby's" as he drove along the road before turning on the radio which began playing a Christmas playlist. It was still three weeks before the holiday season but Paul sang along joyfully to 'Santa Baby' and 'Last Christmas' teasing Daryl and acting as if he was serenading him, who then just rolled his eyes at the goof yet hummed along to the songs himself. Daryl's heart suddenly started racing once Paul parked in the lot outside the pawn shop, memories flooding back to him from when he left his mothers piano there in the first place. A feeling of nostalgia with a hint of heartbreak thrown in the midst and he was obviously in a daydream as Paul, who had gotten out the drivers seat and walked round to Daryl's side, had opened the door for him and poked his arm to bring out any movement. "You coming or what?" Paul said as he stood back from the door to let Daryl exit the car. Daryl undid his seatbelt and heaved himself up from the car and outside to the rather chilly winter air. He started rubbing his hands together - partly to warm them and partly because of the sudden bout of nerves that stumbled into his being. He followed Paul into the pawn shop and was blasted with the warmth of the building as he stepped in from outside. A wind chime hanging above the door tingled lightly as he and Paul walked into the small shop. Daryl looked around at all the trinkets and what some would call garbage littered around the place, on walls, in glass cases, hangers, leaning against the wall, some just piled on the floor in a spare corner. It was a struggle to move in fear of knocking into anything, there was rarely a free space on the ground to place your feet without the constant worry of stepping on a glass sculpture or kicking over a pile of shabby looking books. It looked like not too many people came to the shops with the amount of items there were lying around and the little amount of space unoccupied, hence why Daryl's piano was still there even years after he dropped it off. "One mans trash is another mans treasure ay?" Whispered Paul as the walked through the narrow space between two shelves cluttered with tacky models and statues of religious figures and Cupid shooting arrows with his lovestruck bow. Paul picked up one of the models of Jesus Christ and held it up to his face and smiled at Daryl. "Spot the difference?" He grinned at the older man holding the index-fingers-length model next to his left cheek. Daryl's stomach filled with a flock of butterflies as he the man smiled at him, lids almost closed with his size of grin, crinkles forming at the edges of his eyes and white teeth baring. He looked almost... Cute. Before Daryl could let his cheeks flush red he punched the artist in the arm lightly. "Yeah, ones more of an ass" Daryl smirked watching Pauls grin turn into a exaggerated pout and frowning eyebrows as he placed the model back where he'd found it. "Hey, don't say that about the Lord and saviour it's very disrespectful." Paul pointed a finger at Daryl waving it as his pout slowly turned into a cheeky smirk. Daryl punched him in the arm again, a little more hard this time, before walking towards the back of the shop. His eyes scanned the area for sight of the piano and he froze when he finally saw it; hidden in the back corner alongside an old, tattered looking briefcase and a shelf topped with books. "There it is" Daryl almost whispered as he pointed out the instrument to the man behind him. "Let's go get it then" Paul said as he looked over his head to see where the pawnbroker were to be found. Paul walked over to the glass counter and rest his elbows on the surface before lifting a hand and ringing the rusted service bell lying on the glass. He waited a couple seconds, looking around the store before a rather burly looking man with a brown but greying beard and hair in a ponytail appeared at the desk. He wore rectangular framed glasses and Paul thought he looked like a character you could find on Sons of Anarchy or some other biking show that he hadn't actually watched. "How can I help you Mr?" The man asked, in a very strong Southern accent, almost as if he was putting it on and had just watched too many Westerns in his time. "Hi, yes, hello how much is the piano you have at the back? My friend here is set to pay back the loan on it" Paul smiled at the man, looking over his shoulder and giving a nod in Daryl's direction. "Well it's b'in here a while now so it'll go cheaper than what ya sold it for that's fer sure. I'd say maybe $300 give or take" the man drawled, his voice was slow which only made it harder for Paul to endure another sentence without letting a giggle slip at his faux sounding accent. "We'll take it please" Paul chirped, looking at Daryl triumphantly before pulling his wallet from the left pocket of his leather jacket whilst the bearded man made his way out from behind the counter and headed towards the old piano. Daryl then came up next to him and placed $250 on the counter. Paul looked up at him, confusion arousing on his face before opening up his wallet and slamming $150 on the glass, looking up at Daryl - a stern look in his eyes. "Can't let you pay all this" Daryl mumbled, pushing the dollar bills back towards Pauls wallet which he had placed on the counter. "I said halves so we're going halves" Paul said with a sense of sincerity and Daryl could tell he was going to be stubborn and so gave up at the first opportunity and took the extra $100 back to his pocket, a feeling of guilt sinking in his stomach. He didn't think he was worth any of that money to Paul, he was still at the age where he was paying off student loans and he had an apartment to pay for and such other things worth his while but the fact he was using some of that money on Daryl? He felt he had a lot he owed to the younger man. Daryl pouted as he watched the burly shopkeeper come back to the counter, swiping the money from its surface before Daryl was able to place his extra cash down despite Pauls stubbornness. "We're gonna have ta take it out the back door, ain't no way I'm gettin it through here" the man said gesturing at the clutter in the mids of the floor around the shop. "If ya help me put it in my truck out back I can follow y'all back to where ya want it. Don't think that car ya got out there is gonna be big enough" he continued pointing to Pauls sunset gold Volkswagen Rabbit (https://goo.gl/images/BeV68L). Daryl hated the car, it was hard to fix and harder to find parts for if it was broken - which it almost always was. Paul had called him multiple times asking him how to fix this and that and at one point when he was shaded by the open hood of the car, trying to fix something within, a wrong pipe was tampered with and black smoke puffed into his face, covering his upper body in a thin layer of dark grey dust; that was the last straw for him and he angrily threw a spanner at the side of the car which had created a dent. Paul didn't seem to mind though, he laughed and proceeded to name it "Daryl's Rage" and took a photo, then printing it out and hanging it in his office like some kind of abstract art piece for everyone to look at much to Daryl's embarrassment of his impulsive behaviour. Deep down though, he had to admit that he did have a soft spot for the old vehicle as after everything it had been through it was still going to this day, he'd never admit that to Paul though. "That would be great thanks!" Paul smiled at the shops keeper and then proceeded to follow him out the back door where the man had already managed to push the piano outside. Daryl then walked over and helped move the piano towards the mans pickup truck, finally lifting it into the back and heaving a sigh as he let go of the heavy instrument. He felt goosebumps as he touched the pianos wooden surface, a faint memory of his mother drifting through his mind before he and Paul headed back to the butternut Volkswagen (which the younger man had affectionately named 'Betsy'). The two men jumped in the car, Paul had a smile on his face whilst Daryl was chewing at the inside of his cheek, unsure of how he felt. Paul turned his head and looked at Daryl worryingly. "Hey you okay?" He asked as he turned the key to the car and placed two hands on the steering wheel. "Yeah just, you didn't have t' do all that fer me" Daryl flicked his gaze towards Pauls before returning it to his knees and shuffling his feet on the mat underneath the dashboard. "I wanted to" the younger man replied, voice soft and genuine as he placed a hand gently on Daryl's thigh, digging his fingers into the fabric of his jeans before letting go and returning his grasp to the wheel. Daryl tensed but quickly relaxed at the touch, a pool of warmth hitting his stomach as Paul said those words. He wanted to help him, he wanted to give him something back he would've never gotten himself and had missed every day. Daryl wasn't a materialistic person and couldn't care less about what he did or didn't have but this item meant so much to him and the fact that Paul had helped him get it back and had gone out of his way to do just that then then he obviously cared about him. And that was all Daryl needed to know - that someone really did care for him. |~~~~~~~~~~|||||\|||\\_<\<_>_>_ "Pleasure for doing business for ya gentlemen!" The bearded man shouted in his strong accent as he waved off Daryl and Paul after helping shift the piano into the house and to Daryl's spare room. Paul returned a wave and a smile as the man drove off in his truck, leaving the two alone again. They headed back inside and straight to the piano. Daryl sat down at a stool he had placed at the instrument and swiped his hand across the keys - lightly enough so it didn't make a sound, getting rid of the dust it had collected over the years. He then leaned down and inspected the right side of the piano and huffed a small laugh as his fingers drifted across a spot on the wooden surface. "Still there" he whispered almost as if it was to himself as he looked at something on the side of the piano. From where he was standing, Paul leaned over so he could see what Daryl had his attention on. He squinted his eyes and strained to see without his glasses but he kneeled down and let himself get a little closer to see clearer. On the side of the piano was scrawly letter 'D.D' carved into the wood, alongside it was a date - "8 July '84". Paul smiled as he envisioned a teen Daryl, using some sort of sharp utensil to carve his initials into the side of the piano, a peek of his tongue sticking out from his lips in concentration - the same face he wore years later. He watched Daryl fondly as he sat back up straight on the stool he was seated on and placed his hands gently on the keys of the piano, pressing the middle C key lightly, over and over until it became louder. "So, are you gonna play me a sweet tune or not?" Paul smirked at the older man who's face began blushing at the request. "Haven't played in years, probably shit at it now" Daryl furrowed his brows and gave an um-humorous laugh. "Have you got any sheet music?" The artist then asked, raising his eyebrows in anticipation. "Uh..." Daryl stuttered as he remembered the piece of music his mother had left him, "I think I got somethin', just wait a sec" he continued as he stepped up from the stool and headed to his bedroom. He looked in the drawer beside his bed and fumbled through the random items before he found the sheet of music, a little crumpled but other than that peak condition. He then walked back into the spare room where Paul had grabbed another stool from the kitchen and was sitting next to Daryl's seat at the piano so he could watch him play. Daryl took a seat and placed the sheet music up against the face of the piano so he could read it whilst he played. Even though he hadn't seen it in years he recognised the keys immediately and felt as if he'd still been playing all those empty years. "Found this one" Daryl mumbled as he looked at Paul, he was actually excited to play for him and was itching to get started; something he hadn't felt in a long time. The artist leaned in and focused on the sheet of music, before letting a smile form on his face. "I know this one" he grinned as he sat straight and attentive as he also became excited to hear his friend play. Daryl looked his knees and smiled before taking a deep breath and settling his hands on the piano, staring at the sheet music and slowly beginning to play the melody. He played a few notes with shaky hands before taking breaths and starting over. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, inhaling strongly and giving a long exhale before he clasped his hands together and stretched them out, cracking his fingers and settling them on the keys once more. He then finally began playing the tune (https://youtu.be/VKBfsz3P7Us). His fingers glided steadily over the keys once he gained his confidence and his tongue stuck out in concentration as he got into the song. He only stopped to look up from the black and white keys when Paul began singing the lyrics to the tune, his voice husky yet soft and quiet, complimenting Daryl's piano. Daryl played the last keys to the song and held them down a little longer than they were supposed to be held as he was filled with relief and pride that he'd remembered how to play after all these years. He then finally looked up at Paul who's eyes were already laying on his own, a glint shining in the dimly lit room. There was silence other than the breaths of the two men as they just looked at each other before slowly Paul started leaning closer to Daryl, still keeping eye contact but his breath becoming deeper as the gap between their bodies became narrower. Daryl could also feel himself leaning in slowly before they were inches apart and Paul closed his eyes as Daryl could feel the heat of his breath on his face. Daryl then rest his forehead against Pauls, eyes closed and only the sound of their heavy breathing echoing in the room before the younger man tilted his face slightly and connected their lips. Pauls kiss was gently and his lips were plump and soft as he moved them against Daryl's who was nervous to make a move in fear of him doing something wrong. The artist moved his arm up the photographers back and to his head, tangling his fingers in his dark hair as he pushed his head lightly closer to his own in attempts to encourage him. Daryl then mimicked the motion of Pauls lips as they kissed sitting at the piano - Daryl's stomach in fits of butterflies. Their lips then parted and they kept their eyes closed for a couple more seconds, their heads still resting against each other's as their shaky breaths filled the heated room. Paul opened his eyes, still keeping in the same position as he looked at Daryl, his eyes still closed and facing towards the shorter mans nose. His lips turned to a small smile before Daryl finally opened his eyes to make contact with Pauls. "Was that okay?" The artist whispered as he looked into Daryl's blues, a red flush on his face. Daryl nodded his head softly to give him his answer. It was more than okay.

#thEY DONE DID JT #HUAAAAAAA #how do u write kissing when u ain't ever been kissed #who knows I copied from other writing #shoutout to snoe for Betsy the car