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Daryl looked out over the bar with a feeling of pride. It had taken him a long while and the help of some friends, but he'd finally made something of his life. Angels, named after the ever-present wings on his vest, was his pride and joy; the go-to bar in King County. Thursday night was always slow during the winter and this close to last call there were only three customers in the bar. A couple was sitting in Tara’s section, the man engrossed in the tv and the girl soaking up the not-so-subtle flirting Tara was giving her. Hank, the resident drunk, was three sheets to the wind and losing badly at pool to Sasha.
Daryl wiped down the bar and begin drying some glasses when the door opened and chilly air invaded for a moment. A young guy, in his twenties most likely, came stumbling in. Long hair pulled into a ponytail, some tendrils escaping around his face and a frantic look in his bright blue eyes caught Daryl's attention instantly. He almost missed another person coming in behind him, sitting himself at a table in Tara's section. The young man slid into a stool, panting for air. “What can I get ya?”
Impossibly wide eyes looked up at him and Daryl's stomach fell. He'd seen fear his whole life, knew what it looked like. “Did he follow me in?” The man's voice was barely a whisper.
“Big guy, dark hair?” The man in front of him nodded and Daryl sighed. “Ya need some help?”
Wide blue eyes looked up at him and scanned his face. He relaxed a bit, his shoulders slumping. “Can I get a beer?”
Daryl sat the beer down in front of him and resumed drying glasses. Tara had taken the guy's order, water by the looks of it, but had headed back to her much more interesting blonde. “Ain't looking for any trouble in my bar,” Daryl said in a quiet voice. “I need to call the cops on him?
The guy drained half his beer and shook his head. “He won't do anything in public and the police won't care.”
Daryl kept a subtle eyes on the guy in the corner as he pressed on for more information. “Names Daryl,” he said with a soft smile. Years of working the bad had taught him an ease of learning how to make people feel comfortable in his presence.
“Paul,” the younger man said, “but my friends call me Jesus.” Daryl scoffed and Paul smiled softly. “When the hair’s down, I kind of resemble him.”
“Well, Jesus in a bar called Angels must be fate.” Daryl reached for another beer and swiped the empty bottle. “Ya gonna tell me what's goin’ on?”
Paul took a much smaller sip of his second beer and sighed. “His name is Trevor and he's an ex.” Daryl nodded and he saw the slight surprise in the other man's gaze. He knew he looked the typical Southern redneck type that would've found issue with the gay thing, so he didn't fault Paul for his surprise. “I ended things a few weeks ago but he didn't take it well. He started showing up and following me, leaving strange gifts in my car and my house, watching me and waiting for me.”
Daryl fought the urge to look up at the other man. “You call the police?”
“I'm new here,” Paul admitted, “and I wasn't sure the King County police would be too sympathetic to my plight.”
“I know a cop who's decent,” Daryl whispered. “Sasha,” he hollered. She took her shot and headed over to them. “I gotta step in the back for a call, mind the bar while I'm gone.” He usually didn't need her to do it, especially given the slow night and he hoped she wouldn't ask questions. The great thing about Sasha was that she understood Daryl's expression and simply nodded.
Daryl stepped into his office and pulled out his phone. The line rang twice before Rick answered. “Evening brother.”
“Ya on duty tonight?”
“Saving the world one speed demon at a time,” Rick chuckled. “Everything okay at the bar?”
Daryl leaned against his desk and sighed. “Got a new guy, just moved here and he ain’t sure King County’s finest will take him seriously.”
“What’s the problem?”
“His ex-boyfriend followed him into the bar. He says they broke up and the guy’s been followin’ him, leavin’ shit in his car and house, things like that.”
“Ex is at the bar now? Well, I can see why he’d be scared to go to the police. Ain’t a lot of them that’d care about a gay man and an ex. So, you wanna help him?” Rick laughed into the phone before Daryl could even answer. “Stupid questions, course you do. A’ight, here’s what you do. Take this guy to your apartment, that will prove he’s following the guy and not just accidentally showing up in the same public places. I’ll be waiting there.”
Daryl hummed in agreement. “Don’t go to jail for stalking, do you?”
“You really gotta do something about this hero complex you have,” Rick said with a slightly exasperated tone. Daryl knew he was thinking about the time he’d gotten involved with Carol and Ed. He’d landed in the hospital that time. “Technically, and you didn’t hear this from me, assault would land him in hotter water. I know a judge with a gay son that he loved very much, so if I could add assault to the stalking and harassment charges, he’d go away for a little while.”
“Bar closes in 10, be home in 30.” Daryl clicked the phone shut and slid it into his pocket. Rick was right, he did have a soft spot for people who were being terrorized by others. He knew what it felt like to be helpless and afraid, wondering if anyone could see and if anyone cared what was happening to him. He’d been involved in several domestic situations at the bar, always stepping in and protecting those that needed it. He headed back to the bar and gave Sasha a small smile. “Last call, tell Tara and call Hank’s son.”
Paul looked up from his phone when Daryl returned to stand in front of him. “You didn’t…”
“Ain’t a big deal,” Daryl whispered. “Look, you need help and I’m offerin’. You okay with that?” Paul bit his bottom lip in hesitation, but eventually nodded his head. “A’ight, after last call and the bar closes, you and I gonna head to my apartment. I’m guessing tall, dark and scary over there gonna wait in his car and follow. My cop friend, Rick, will be waiting.”
Paul sighed and drained the last of his beer. “I really can’t thank you enough for helping me.”
“No problem,” Daryl said as he stacked the glasses Sasha had finished drying. Tara and Sasha were settling out their last tabs and everyone walked out of the door. Paul’s stalker was the last to leave, his eyes scanning over Paul’s back and Daryl as he left. “You two go on,” Daryl said as he grabbed the cash drawer. “I’m gonna lock this up and get the keys, come on.” He motioned for Paul to follow him into the back office. Daryl locked the drawer in the safe, he’d handle the deposit in the morning, and grabbed the keys to his bike. He handed Paul the helmet.
Paul took it carefully and stared up at him. “You drive a motorcycle?”
“Got a problem with it?”
“Never been on one,” Paul admitted.
Daryl nodded. “Ain’t hard, just hold on. You ready?”
Paul took a deep breath before nodding. He followed behind Daryl as they left the bar and locked the door behind them. Daryl scanned the parking lot, one car was parked in front of the bar and another car was sitting in the shadows of the corner lot. He straddled the bike and waited until Paul slid on behind him. “What about my car?”
“We’ll come back for it,” Daryl said. Paul’s arms wrapped around his waist and Daryl started the engine. The bike rumbled to life and Daryl felt Paul squeeze a bit tighter. He patted his hand, the only thing he could think to reassure the man, and then headed out of the parking lot. It didn’t take long for him to notice the headlights following them. Although the car wasn’t close, it was obvious to Daryl that the other man had followed them. They reached Daryl’s apartment complex and Daryl killed the engine. He listed carefully, hearing the car following them enter the parking lot and kill his engine. Paul hopped off and Daryl followed, reaching out to take the helmet as it was offered. “Yer ex a jealous guy?”
“Yeah,” Paul whispered. “I didn’t even think about it, you could get hurt.”
“Kind of plannin’ on it,” Daryl whispered. He stepped closer and Paul’s eyes widened in shock. “Yer gonna need more than stalking to put him away, trust me.”
Daryl didn’t know how or why, but Paul nodded in agreement. Daryl reached out, cupping the other man’s cheek and leaned in. He kissed him softly at first, lips brushing against soft lips. Daryl’s mind shifted to the feeling of the other man’s beard against his skin and the way it shot sparks down his spine. His other hand settled on Paul’s waist and pulled him in closer, licking across his lips in request. Paul opened for him, his tongue meeting Daryl’s tentatively. A soft sigh escaped Paul’s lips and Daryl swallowed it with his own. He’d almost lost himself in the kiss, forgetting why he’d done it, when something ripped him away. He was on the ground, a large form over him, and a fist connected with his eye. “Keep your filthy fucking hands…”
“Trevor!” Paul yelled, launching himself at the other man. Trevor struck out and sent Paul reeling into the car behind him.
Daryl twisted, intent on getting away from the other man without hitting him, but another blow knocked him in the jaw. He could taste blood from his lip and reared back when the other man was pulled away. Rick was standing there, one hand holding Trevor’s hand behind his back. Daryl could hear him reading the man his rights and a hand appeared in front of him. He looked up to see Paul and accepted the help. “You okay?”
“Are you,” the other man asked? He traced a finger along the split in Daryl’s lip and the tip came away red. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Daryl shrugged and turned away from Paul. The feeling that had settled in his gut made him antsy. “You got what you need?”
Rick wrestled Trevor into the cruiser and turned back around. “I’ll need statements.”
“Take Paul back to his car, we left it at the bar. I’ll give you mine in the morning.” Daryl waited for Rick to nod and then turned back to Paul. “See you around.”
Paul opened his mouth to say something, but Daryl walked away before he could. He’d done his part and he was fucking tired. And if Paul’s bright eyes and soft lips followed him into his dreams, Daryl didn’t mind so much.
-x-
Rick was occupying a barstool in his uniform, chattering on and on about some case he was working, when Daryl noticed someone walking in. He looked different, his hair was down around his shoulders and his bright eyes were filled with a happiness that’d been missing the first time they met. “Hello,” Paul said as he came to stand at the bar.
“Well, you really do look like Jesus,” Rick muttered. Daryl gave him a glare and Rick laughed, grabbing his beer and heading towards the pool tables.
Paul shifted from foot to foot, his eyes traveling over Daryl’s face. “I’m sorry about that.”
Daryl knew he was referring to the black eye and swollen lip Daryl was sporting. “Looks worse than it is,” Daryl said.
Paul nodded and Daryl could feel the nervous energy around the other man. He waited, wondering what the other man was so nervous about. “I...wanted to thank you again. You didn’t even know me and you helped me. Not everyone would do that and I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” Daryl said.
“Look, I may be out of line and if I am, just tell me. But that kiss...it felt like more than just a way to provoke Trevor. I was hoping maybe, you’d like to get dinner with me.” Paul shifted again and his eyes fell to the floor.
Daryl’s eyes caught Rick’s over Paul’s shoulder and rolled his eyes at the exaggerated wink the other man was giving him. “It was,” Daryl whispered and Paul’s eyes snapped up to his, “more than just a cover. And yeah, I’ll go to dinner with ya.”
Paul smiled brightly and reached up, pressing a soft kiss to Daryl’s cheek. “Tomorrow then?”
“Tomorrow,” Daryl said with a smile.