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Summary
“I used t’ dance at the club. Y’know, the gay bars in the city. Ain’t nobody from home to recognize me there, so I’d sneak off on th’ weekends. Wasn’t like real dancin’ anyhow, more like,” Daryl chews on his bottom lip, feeling that embarrassment beginning to creep back up, cheeks burning, “Dirty. Just grindin’ t’gether. Like fuckin’ with y’r clothes on.”