Chapter Text
Daryl Dixon had had a long night.
There was fuck all in the woods at the moment. His Father was drinking more than what he was making, and Merle was locked up once again.
With his Father passed out on his bed, and Merle’s room being used by his brother’s last, one-night stand, he collapsed onto the sofa, completely ready to sleep.
Until his stomach grumbled aggressively.
After checking the fridge and cupboards, not being surprised that there was nothing there, he decided to order takeout. Slumping back to his previous position on the couch, he picked up the paint-chipped landline and ordered a pizza from the usual place.
Extra cheese and sausage, as per usual.
“Any special requests?” The person asked on the other end of the phone.
Daryl rolled his eyes, “Dunno… send me yer cutest delivery driver.” He hung up quickly, groaning to himself.
Clearly, he was tired.
At least he got to see a cute girl.
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Glenn Rhee was not having a good day.
In fact, his day sucked so far.
A week after dropping out of the fancy college his mother insisted he attend, he was being bombarded with call after call from her, each voicemail more abusive than the last.
The last one informed him that he’d been cut off financially, which meant that he was forced to take shifts as a delivery boy in this shitty pizza place.
“Come on new boy!” His manager smirked over at him, “One for you.”
The other delivery drivers on shift, a few betas (two girls, one boy), sniggered as Glenn was handed the pizza box, watching as the manager headed into the back.
“W-what’s so funny!” Glenn snapped, already fed up with the people he was working for.
“Dude, you’re delivering to the Dixon place.” One of them answered, “And he asked for the cutest delivery driver we had.”
Glenn flushed bright red.
“Wonder what the redneck’s gonna think when we send him an omega boy!” Another one of the other driver’s cackled, as Glenn felt his heart drop to his stomach.
He didn’t want to assume the worst of people… but rednecks have a reputation.
Racist.
Homophobic.
Sexist.
There was a heavy chance this was not going to go well, and they all knew it.
“Thanks.” He muttered, rushing out (hoping that the humiliated flush on his cheeks couldn’t be seen).
………………………………………………………………..
When he reached the home in the middle of nowhere (where no-one could hear him scream), he knocked three times on the door, taking a deep breath as he resigned himself to no tip and a barrage of insults.
And then the door opened, and he mentally cursed.
An obvious Alpha, this guy was ticking all his boxes. Older, rugged, gorgeous eyes.
“Hey.” The man muttered, and honestly, Glenn thought his knees wobbled at the deep voice.
He was actually stunned into silence, which didn’t happen a lot.
“Gotta say, didn’t expect a Chinese to be delivering pizza. Yer own people not hire ye?”
“I-I- Hey! I’m Korean!” And just like that, Glenn remembered exactly where he was, practically shoving the pizza at the man, “Sorry, I know you asked, but no cute delivery girl for you. 12 dollars please.”
There was no point arguing against the racist words.
“Nah, yer cute enough.”
Pardon, what?
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Daryl… couldn’t believe he’d just said that out loud.
He knew he was going bright red.
“Pardon?!” The boy’s voice was high, clearly shocked by Daryl’s words.
“Yer cute.”
Shit… he couldn’t believe he said it again!
“I- thank you?” The delivery boy was bright red as well, “I- “
“Here.” Daryl quickly shoved a 20 dollar note into the kids’ hands, grabbing the pizza box, “Keep the change.”
He then slammed the door shut, wincing as there was a yelp from the other side…. Followed by a growl from his Father’s room.
Shit.
……………………………………….
Only a week passed before Daryl decided to order pizza again.
“Do you want us to send our cutest driver again?” The voice on the other end of the line teased, clearly recognising the accent, “Give him a different tip?”
It was crude, but unfortunately, not uncommon.
Omegas in the workplace wasn’t new, but most believed it shouldn’t happen, often using sexist, crude language to make them feel uncomfortable and force them out.
Merle was a Master of It.
Daryl couldn’t name how many delivery drivers and waitresses Merle had been sleezy to, only for them to quit the very same day.
“Whatever.” He grunted, hanging up
……………………………………………………………………………
“Again?” Glenn whined as his manager handed him the pizza box, “But- “
“You got an almost ten-dollar tip, don’t complain.” The older beta rolled his eyes, “We keep sending you, and then we’ve got a regular customer.”
“But, he- “
“- Unless you feel like taking your chances in another job?”
What could Glenn say as a response to that?
With a sigh, he nodded and headed out to the bike and set off, arriving and knocking on the door.
Oh God… the man was wearing a sleeveless tank top today.
“Sorry.” He muttered, handing the man the pizza, “Me again.”
“Yeah… you again.”
Frowning at the soft tone in the man’s voice, Glenn glanced up, eyes widening at the smile on the man’s face.
“I-I have other deliveries. I-I should really get going.” He stammered, “Twelve dollars please.”
He got another twenty dollar note, along with an unsure whisper for him to keep the change, before he was off and running back to his bike.
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Daryl was in deep, and he knew it.
Shit.
He waited a couple of weeks before ordering again.
………………………………………………………………………
Some would say that driving in the rain was calming… relaxing.
Those people had clearly never attempted to deliver pizza in this sort of weather.
“Glenn, you’re up!” His manager called, handing him the pizza box, “You know where to go.”
There was no point in arguing… and it wasn’t like the man ever really did anything to him.
Taking the box, he rushed outside, quickly shoving the pizza into the waterproof bag, before setting off.
It was times like these that reminded him how much he hated his life.
Pulling up outside the familiar home, he rushed to the door, sheltering the pizza as best he could as he knocked at the door.
“One second! One second!” He heard the familiar voice yell, moments before the door opened up.
“Me again!” Glenn forced a smile on his face, even as the rain poured down on him, “Twelve dollars please.”
“… What’s your name?”
“W-what?”
The Alpha stared at him, and it was only when Glenn looked closer that he saw the nervous look in the other man’s eyes.
“Glenn.” He found himself answering, “And… you?”
“… Daryl.”
It felt like a metaphorical bridge had been built between them.
As Daryl handed him the money, Glenn fought to regain control of the situation. “Well, have a nice day!” He gave him a quick wave (which he later cringed at), “Bye!”
He didn’t hear the door close behind him as he rushed back to the scooter, prompting him to glance back.
Daryl was standing in his doorway, staring out at him.
Glenn had never felt more like a rabbit caught in a fox’s gaze before.
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Daryl had never felt like this before.
When he woke up, sheets slightly sticky, dreams haunted by that cute smile and gorgeous brown eyes, he buried his voice in his tatty pillow and groaned as loud as he risked.
He couldn’t be feeling like this over some… omega boy!
He needed to distract himself.
Maybe go and buy some food this time, rather than ordering something today.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Glenn sighed in relief as he headed into the convenience store.
After taking over someone else’s night shift, he was given tonight as a day off. He suffered the teasing of the other drivers, and how he wouldn’t get to see ‘his Alpha’, and now he was finally free.
He scanned the shelves that were full of the not-so-good, but oh so delicious junk food.
Hearing the bell to the store sound, he automatically glanced over, only to yelp and duck behind the shelves, staying there for a few minutes until he was sure the coast was clear. A few minutes passed, before he peeked over the top of the shelf, sighing in relief when he didn’t see the man.
“Hey.”
Glenn squeaked in alarm at the voice, spinning around to see Mr Dixon… Daryl standing behind him. “H-Hey!”
Daryl glanced down at the chips in Glenn’s hands, “I’ll pay for ye.” He grunted, snatching them from Glenn’s hands and heading towards the cashier with his own basket.
“I-I- You don’t need to- “
“Want to.”
“Mister Dixon!”
“Daryl.”
“Daryl, I can- “
“Not listening.”
Finally realising that there was no point in arguing, Glenn stood hesitantly to one side as Daryl paid. From there, they headed out, Daryl following Glenn to his pedal bike.
“It’s gonna rain.” Daryl stated, looking up at the sky, “Ye can put yer bike in the back of my truck and I’ll take ye home.”
Glenn wanted to argue.
‘Never show a strange Alpha where you live’, his mother was practically screaming in his mind, ‘Never!’
Daryl was still staring at him.
“O-Okay.” Glen found himself spluttering, “Thank you.”
He clambered into the passenger seat of the truck, just as thunder rumbled overhead.
