Blood Bourbon

Got Your Six

Daryl glanced down at the outfit he was wearing for the billionth time, shifting ever so slightly and tugging on the dark grey t-shirt that had a lighter gray image of a viking longboat on it. When he saw Ryker smirk out of the corner of his eyes he forced himself to sit back, crossing his arms over his chest to prevent himself from fidgeting further.

"You look fine, Daryl. It's nothing different from what you usually wear. Other than the shoes." Ryker chuckled, pointedly staring at the road ahead of them as the sky grew darker.

"It's not how they look... they're nice... " he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down at the runners that were on his feet. "But they're nothing like I wear."

Ryker grinned to him, clearly amused by his discomfort, though he played dumb, "jeans and a t-shirt."

"Very well fitted jeans that aren't exactly in the same price point as wranglers... and a t-shirt... well, it's nice... it's really soft..." Daryl grinned and rubbed his chest, letting his fingers drift down to toy with the hem of the shirt. "But I could buy a whole two outfits for what the t-shirt cost... and we're just going home anyways, I could have worn..."

"Your suit is ruined. Dry clean only, and you were soaked in it yesterday. Tailor has your measurements." Ryker smirked and glanced to him, "and you promised you wouldn't complain about spending money. I'm pretty sure you said you'd let me buy you what you needed."

"I thought we were going to walmart." Daryl muttered, "or the feed and tack store... not the mall."

Ryker shrugged and grinned innocently into the windshield, "mmm I may have misled you on that." He paused for a moment, before shooting him a hard look, "but you don't have to buy all your clothing at a feed store, you know. Isn't that... where you buy horse food?"

"And tack, and boots, and well priced, well made clothing." Daryl grumbled, but only half heartedly. Ryker had surprisingly decent taste and judging by all the other options he could have been stuck with, he was happy not to be wearing anything super tight, super baggy, or covered in bejewels.

The horrified look Ryker gave him said enough about their fashion priority differences, though Daryl found himself grinning, until they turned off the road and into his brother's driveway and he jerked back in surprise. "Oh shit."

Ryker slammed on the breaks so hard the car skidded on the dirt road, kicking up a cloud of dust as he reached to pull the shifter into reverse. "What?"

"They're all still here. I thought for sure they'd be gone." He nodded down the driveway, where his brother's two trucks, Mary's car, and then five other vehicles ranging from pick-ups to jeeps to a motorbike, were parked.

"Who?" Ryker was tensed, eyes narrowed on the cars as if they were dangerous predators.

It was looking over at the other man that Daryl realized he had probably worried Ryker unnecessarily. "Oh. They're alright. They're just... my brother's work friends. I grew up with most of them and they treat me like their little brother...They can be a bit... overwhelming."

Ryker relaxed visibly, smirking and giving him a cock-sure look. "I can handle them, Daryl."

"But, honestly. They're nosey as all hell and we haven't even figured this out, but you'll be damned sure they'll be trying to get answers." He knew better than to panic and Ryker merely drove the car up and backed it beside one of the jeeps, throwing it into park and turning to look at him.

"Daryl, they don't worry me. We tell them as much as we want to tell them, just let me know what that is." Ryker reached over to squeeze the back of his neck gently, "will they give you a hard time, if they know we're together?"