Archive of Our Own

God should’ve created a switch for thoughts. Whenever shit becomes too overwhelming, a person should be able to click that switch, cut it off, and move on about their day. 

Instead, he gave people miserable emotions, anxiety, uncontrollable depression - what a fucking asshole. 

As much as you tried to clear your thoughts, you had to trudge through your seemingly endless rollercoaster of emotions. You were alongside Joel Miller, your somewhat regular patrol partner, attempting to keep everything down. Breathe in, breathe out. Baby steps. 

“Y’know,” Joel began, clearing his throat with a quick cough. “I’m real sorry about what happened yesterday.”

Please god, no. You were trying your best to completely forget about what you and Joel had walked into the day before. Every waking moment since then had the image embedded in your mind - your boyfriend, Connor, splayed across his patrol partner in a seemingly intense moment of passion. 

Joel was the one who walked in first - you had taken in his reaction before anything. His usual scowl was replaced with one of pure malice, anger washing over his already hardened features. He suddenly looked over at you with pity, trying to stop you from walking in and seeing, but it was too late. 

You had seen everything. Connor, with Evelyn, their half-naked bodies explaining what you had already felt to be true. That Connor didn’t love you anymore. You had spent the night alone, your asshole of a boyfriend already moving his stuff out by the time you got back to Jackson. Bastard.

“Please, just drop it. It’s fine.” It really wasn’t, but you didn’t need your ridiculously attractive, unobtainable crush to comfort you after he watched Connor cheat on you. It was already embarrassing enough. 

You always had some sort of fixation on Joel, but it felt impossibly out of reach. The age difference, his stoic nature. You never imagined he would have any sort of interest back, but it didn’t stop you from daydreaming about it. 

In those moments when you were on patrol with Joel after having a screaming match with Connor, you thought about what it would be like to be with him. How he would comfort you after a bad day, how he would nurse you back to health when you caught a cold. The way his skillful, calloused fingers might feel pressed against your clit - the very same fingers you had watched strangle raiders to death with only a minuscule amount of pressure. You considered what life would be like with someone who actually seemed to give a shit.

You had seen the way Joel had interacted with Ellie and Tommy around town - his little family. Pure, saccharine. It was something you never really had, except with Connor. To an extent. 

You knew it was bound to happen. After being together so long, being forced to love each other in a seemingly life-or-death hellscape, the freedom of Jackson allowed for new relationships. New growth, new realizations that well, maybe there is another pussy on the earth that he could fuck. He could’ve broken up with you first though. 

Joel’s eyes were focused straight ahead, as if he didn’t want to look at you, to save you the embarrassment. You took the moment to watch the way his jaw flexed, a quirk you noticed he would do when he wasn’t quite sure what to say. 

Joel keeps going. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I think that you’re a real,” another awkward cough, ”real, sweet girl. Didn’t deserve to see any of that.”

You just wanted to pull your gun out of its holster and press it to your temple. Anything that could get you out of the situation you were in. Joel was usually tight-lipped with you, only talking when needed, as if he had a word limit of what he could speak. Now, he’s going out of his way to be sweet and kind, to comfort you. It was pitiful. You were pitiful. You didn’t need his concern. “Thanks, Joel.”

He hummed in response, not pressing on anymore, like he could read the thoughts in your mind.  

A few more awkward moments pass before you both arrive back to Jackson, the large gates greeting you while also making a wave of unease wash down your back. Connor was in there. Maybe it was ill of you, but you wished he would’ve fucking died outside of Jackson so you wouldn’t have to see him. You had risked your life for him again and again out there, just for him to treat you like nothing. 

Joel’s voice erased any moment of self-deprecating thoughts from your bitter brain. “Me, Maria, Tommy, and a couple of other people are havin’ a bonfire tonight. You could swing by, if you want.”

You looked over at Joel, taking in his features. His soft brows were drawn deep in concern. He was concerned, about you. Maybe he had seen how close you were with Connor and thought you’d snap if you didn’t have a shoulder to cry on. 

“Look, Joel,” you said, a miserable sigh leaving your lips. “I’m not going, to like, kill myself. At least not over Connor.”

He didn’t seem to like your joke, Joel’s lips pressing together in a very thin line. His eyes darted towards the gates that were now opening, a ticking clock on the conversation. 

“I’m not invitin’ you because I think you’re gonna kill yourself. Not that you should be jokin’ about that. Just.. come if you want. No pressure.”

The weight of Joel’s gaze was cutting through you like a spear, his dark eyes watching you carefully. You gave him a stiff nod before heading in the gates, the click of your horse, Ranger’s hoofs leading you inside. 

Being away from Joel hardly gave you room to breathe, because the moment you finished settling Ranger in his stable, Ellie was hounding you. You had noticed her trailing in after you, most likely waiting for your return to Jackson. Rumors had spread quickly in the town, and Ellie was one of the first people who checked in on you after she heard what happened. You were pretty close with her girlfriend, Cat, which automatically promoted Ellie to one of your friends.

Ellie matched your pace against the rocky, dirt path of Jackson’s main road. Usually after patrols, you would meet Connor for lunch in the mess hall. You found yourself lost, walking in a confused haze, as you searched for something to fill those old habits. No longer was Connor holding your seat in the café, or greeting you with a kiss. You were alone.

Ellie seemed to notice the spacey place your mind was in, trying to reel you back into reality. “Hey. I’m meeting with Cat and Angie tonight. We’re gonna go to the east watch tower and smoke. You coming?”

While getting high with the few people in Jackson you liked being around sounded enjoyable, you weren’t sure if that’s what you were looking for. No, you’d prefer one of the shitty jars of moonshine Quentin had made in his kitchen. The burn of it sliding down the back of your throat, warming your body from your neck down to your toes. You would forget who you were for a moment, avoid the pressure of actuality.

“Nah. I got plans,” you said, trying not to meet Ellie’s gaze. Connor had always told you that you were a horrible liar, and you always knew that he was right. Your palms would sweat and you would awkwardly smile, your vocabulary quickly consisting of “ums,” and “uh.” As long as Ellie didn’t ask too many questions, you would get away with it.

You could see Ellie pause next to you, her hesitation showing that she was easily reading through your lies. “Plans? Like what?”

It was obvious that you no longer had plans, that your plans had been squashed and ruined by Connor. You just wished Ellie noticed that you wanted to be left alone. You had roughed out going on patrols, keeping up with your usual duties. It was in your best interest to stay busy and display a persona that you weren’t falling apart. Connor didn’t deserve to know how you really felt. 

Quickly trying to think of an alibi, you found yourself stumbling. “Uh, well, Joel asked me if I wanted to go to a bonfire tonight that he’s hosting.”

Now Ellie completely stopped walking, standing as still as a statue in the middle of the street. You rolled your eyes when you turned back to her, her dramatics making you snort. People passed around the both of you, throwing annoyed glances at your sudden stops.

“You’re going to Joel’s? Really?”

“Why not?” you asked, pulling on her arm to make her walk alongside you. She obeyed, but not without continuing to pester you.

“It’s only going to be a bunch of old people there. You’d rather hang out with Joel than hotbox the watchtower?” 

Truthfully, you loved any time you got with Joel. Just passing him on the street made your heart race. The way his eyes would flit through the space keeping you apart from one another, locking on yours. Your hands would tremble, but you would do your best to keep it together. You would always wave, and he would give you a friendly nod and smile in response.

There was just something about Joel that made your knees weak. Maybe it was the way he treated you. When you were out on the road with Connor, he would question your decisions, or make you feel like you were wasting his time. Whenever you were with Joel, he would listen to any suggestion you had. 

One time you asked him if he would keep watch while you sifted through some old CDs. You had recently traded in some supplies in return for a disc player, but all of the CDs in Jackson’s library were either oldies or something called a Rosetta Stone. You wanted to start your own collection, filled with music that was hand-picked for only your ears.

“I’ll let you look, but you gotta promise to grab one of those Shania Twain CDs on top.”

You stashed both The Woman in Me and Come on Over. In only a couple of days, you knew the lyrics for both albums like the back of your hand. 

“You act like I’m not old. I was alive before the infection even started,” you explained to Ellie.

She threw her head back as she snorted, pulling at your hand that was still wrapped around her arm. “If you weren’t allowed to buy cigarettes or vote, then you were hardly alive before the outbreak.”

You were eight. You were more than alive. You remembered your teachers, and your sweet, lazy cat that you had to abandon on outbreak day. You remembered it all. Either way, you decided to let Ellie have her moment. 

“I told Joel I’d hang out a little bit before I meet up with Cat. Guess that means I’ll see you there,” Ellie teased with a wink, dropping away from you. You had both made it to the outside of her and Joel’s shared home. You had noticed your flaw in using Joel’s bonfire as an alibi; Ellie living under the same roof as Joel. Of course she was going to be there for a while. Just your luck.

She didn’t allow you to follow up with a rebuttal because she walked through the wooded trail to her room in the garage. You watched her walk away, a heavy sigh leaving your lips and making your body deflate as you stood at the front yard. It seemed like you had no choice now but to attend a gathering you didn’t even want to go to.

At least you could see Joel for a little while. It was rare that you spent actual time with him outside of patrol. Maybe it could provide as a distraction.

Still, you decided to pregame a little bit with Quentin’s moonshine. By the time you had showered and the sun had gone down, your body was warm and you had to concentrate a little just to walk straight. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest idea, but who gave a shit. You deserved a little break.

When you finally reached Joel’s front door after tripping a couple of times through the street, it felt like a relief to rap your warm knuckles against the wooden door. Any other time you were presented the opportunity to see Joel, you dragged yourself, nervous to be around him. The alcohol you had drank was making you grow a backbone, dissolving the nerves that usually held you captive in your own skin. 

It was no surprise that Joel was the one to open the front door. Joel however, looked a little surprised to see you. Maybe he thought that you wouldn’t show, you were pretty dismissive. Either way, his surprise didn’t last for long.

“I’m glad you ended up makin’ it. We’re just gettin’ started.”

Jesus, he was so nice to look at. That broad nose, those soft, brown eyes that held so many stories behind them. Even the wrinkles by his eyes, wrinkles that explained all that Joel had weathered, made your mouth water. You wanted to kiss each one, run your tongue along the side of his face. See how it feels to have the rough hair of his beard burn the tip of your tongue. 

He had showered too, his hair combed back but still a little wet. It was cut jaggedly on the sides, much likely done by Ellie in his bathroom upstairs. 

“You look handsome,” you said simply, unable to keep the words sealed behind your lips. You wanted to smell him, bury your nose into his neck and run your tongue down until it dipped into the middle of his collarbone. 

Joel blinked down at you, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to speak. Maybe you were being too forward. You’d need to have a talk with Quentin, tell him to tone it down on the Moonshine. 

“You gonna invite me in?” you asked, pouting your lips. Joel chuckled nervously, stepping back from the door to allow you the space to walk through.

“Of course. Come on in.”

Even though he had given you plenty of room to go through the doorway, you found yourself brushing against him. You weren’t sure what exactly had gotten into you, but you knew what you wanted in you. 

Joel stiffened when you walked past him, your side rubbing against his fingertips. You had to stifle a gasp. Your desperation was pitiful, but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had no reason not to play with Joel a little bit, not after all that had happened.

You could smell the tell-tale soapy scent of  Irish Spring, the one bar of soap that could last 20 years after the end of the world. 

Standing back, you allowed Joel space to close the front door. He seemed a little on edge, but didn’t miss a beat in leading you to the backyard. You had been in Joel’s home many times over the past couple of months - hanging out in Ellie’s room in the backyard with Cat. 

It still felt nice to be in a space that was so obviously Joel’s. Wood carvings shelved in the hallway, heavy work boots thrown under a bench at the back door. The home was unabashedly Joel’s. 

The weight of Joel trailing behind you as you walked through the house to the backyard made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Though you couldn’t see him walking next to you, you felt the presence of his body joining you when you finally made it outside. 

There was already a good group of people filling out Joel’s backyard. A homemade fire pit was lit up, casting light across everyone who crowded around the space. You recognized everyone, Tommy, Maria, Ester, Bo, and a handful of people whose names you didn’t remember. 

The chatter of the crowd brought you comfort while also making you nervous. It was a lively event, filled with laughter and the hum of conversations, but you felt so alone. Alcohol could only mask the sadness that you felt chilling your bones, not erase it. 

You could feel Joel’s presence behind you, and you knew that he could feel the shift in the air. His hand pressed against your back when he moved to stand next to you. Just the pressure of his palm ignited a fire deep in your gut, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling.

“No pressure, remember?” he asked. You thought back to what he said earlier when he invited you. It was challenging, being out and around people when you could be buried in your bed at home. It was worth it though, to be tipsy and inhaling the smell of Joel’s soap. 

When you opened your eyes and looked up at Joel, it was almost like you were looking at him for the first time. His tanned skin was almost bronze in the reflection of the bonfire, and his strong jaw turned to the side, watching the crowd. You wished you could stand up on your tippy toes and press a kiss into the scruff of his beard. What was really stopping you truthfully?

Joel finally turned and caught your gaze, but you didn’t look away. He was the one to break the eye contact, a subtle flush of pink running up his neck. His hand pulled away from your back as he chuckled nervously, gesturing to the group.

“Go enjoy yourself. I’m here if you need me,” he explained, his boots crunching against the gravel when he walked off of the deck stairs. You watched him for a moment, your eyes focused on the broadness of his shoulders and the way his face broke out in a grin the moment he greeted Tommy. Tommy beamed back, slapping his palm against Joel’s back in a brotherly fashion. It was sweet, to witness some of the normalcy of Jackson.

“Stop staring at your boyfriend, it isn’t polite,” spoke a voice from behind you. You glanced back to see Cat walking through Joel’s sliding doors, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. Ink stained her fingertips, most likely from her drawing during the entire duration of her patrol instead of actually working. 

Cat was well aware of your crush on Joel and never hesitated to tease you about it.

“Shut up,” you grumbled, taking a step towards her. Your feet were wobbly and you tripped a bit, causing Cat to catch you with her ink-stained palms. 

Cat narrowed her eyes at you, sniffing the air. “Are you drunk ?”

You scoffed, not meeting her eyes. “No. I mean, not really,” you said, but Cat’s disbelieved expression made you halt. “Okay, well, maybe a little bit.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you, a high-pitched giggle that made Cat laugh herself. 

“Shit, I can’t blame you. Come on, I guess I’ll be your babysitter for the night,” Cat said, dragging you along with her into the backyard. She made rounds greeting everyone, and eventually, Ellie slinked out of her room in the garage to meet the both of you.

“See?” you slurred slightly, “Told you I’d be here.”

Ellie huffed, eyeing you, quite clearly wanting to speak, but Bo beat her to it. Bo was an older man, close with both Joel and Tommy since he was a building inspector before the outbreak. They would do jobs around Jackson, fixing old houses for new residents. 

Bo interjected the conversation, and thanks to the alcohol in your system, you hardly even processed his words. All you made out was Bo talking about Cat’s new tattoo, but you were focused on watching Joel over Bo’s shoulder. 

The sight of him laughing always made your gut twist, and Tommy was doing an excellent job at making Joel chuckle. Joel’s eyes were shut mid laugh so he couldn’t see you watching him from afar. Maybe you should’ve felt odd standing next to Cat and Ellie while you checked Joel out, but he was your magnet. It was impossible not to look.

Joel opened his eyes and spoke, much too far for you to hear him, but with the direction he was going, you knew that he was heading inside for a moment. Your eyes followed him, contemplating trailing in behind him.

‘No. You shouldn’t. You’re drunk, and not in control of your actions. Who knows what would happen if you followed him?’ you thought to yourself as he stepped through the threshold of his house.

Fuck it.

“Gotta potty,” you spoke suddenly, not even paying attention to the reactions of everyone in the current conversation. You had one goal in mind, and that goal was talking to Joel Miller. Perhaps it was the liquid courage coursing through your veins that motivated you to stumble through the yard and slip through the sliding doors.

The house was silent compared to the sound of chatter outside, except for the noise of Joel shutting the downstairs bathroom. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you followed the noise like a lost puppy. When you finally reached the bathroom door, you opened it, closing it behind you.

Joel spun around at the sound of the bathroom door opening behind him. His hands left the belt that he was undoing, hesitating at his waist. He looked shocked to see you closing the door behind yourself before you started moving over to where he was standing.

“What are you doin’ in here?” Joel hissed, glancing between the door behind you and the window to his left. The curtains were closed and you made sure to lock the bathroom door. Nobody would bother you. 

You raised your eyebrows, a sly, mischievous smile filling your face. “I don’t know. Do you want me to leave?”

You waited for Joel to say yes, to grab you by your shoulders and spin you around. He didn’t, however. Instead, he stood across from you silently, watching you. 

“You’ve been drinkin’. I could smell it on you when you walked in.”

Not expecting Joel’s confrontation, you hesitated momentarily. Narrowing your eyes at him but continuing to smile, you leaned forward. The space between the two of you was becoming very minimal, but Joel didn’t make an effort to back away. 

“Does it matter?” you asked, reaching forward with your hand. It shook as you watched your fingers touch the base of his throat. You didn’t understand why Joel was letting you touch him in this way, but the feeling of his skin under your burning fingertips made you whimper. 

“It matters when you’re all over me. What’s gotten into you, huh?” Joel whispered, shaking his head. “This ain’t like you.”

You weren’t going to let Joel talk you out of how you were feeling. It didn’t matter if it was or wasn’t like you, you knew what you wanted. 

“Would you let me taste you, Joel?” you whispered back, your eyes suddenly catching his. They were dark, holding some sort of yearning that you were sure was reflecting in your own eyes. “I’ve thought about it before.”

He was breaking, you could tell. Hesitation was all too apparent in the way he swallowed around nothing. “Thought about tastin’ me?”

“Connor didn’t really like being all that intimate, towards the end I guess,” you admitted. Your face fell thinking about how lonely you had felt for a while. “You were always my distraction.”

When you finally met Joel’s gaze again, he was practically glowering. You weren’t sure if it was in lust or anger, but something you had said won Joel over. With a quick nod, he suddenly granted you permission for your original question. 

You could taste him. 

Your mouth watered just thinking about how salty his throat would feel under your tongue. Leaning forward to finally close the distance separating you from Joel, the tip of your tongue met the surface of his throat. You could feel goosebumps following the trail you made, running up from the column of his throat and stopping at the start of his beard. 

Your nose nuzzled into the coarse hair, tickling your face. Joel was breathing heavily underneath you, his hands reaching forward to grab your waist. They didn’t pull you any closer or move you away; instead he was acting like an anchor, holding you in place. 

“I’ve thought about the way you’d touch me, Joel,” you confessed in a low whimper, one that had Joel’s fist clenching into the fabric of your shorts. 

There was no way you were stopping now. You had to taste all of him. 

Before you could talk yourself out of it, your knees were pressing into the cold tile of the bathroom floor. Your hands went to find Joel’s belt, working to undo them, but a heavy palm stopped you. 

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. You’re drunk. You don’t know what you want right now.”

His eyes were woeful, and his face softened at your attempt to unbuckle his belt. Joel reached forward with his free hand, pressing it against the side of your head. His brows were knitted together, and he sighed, trying to be as patient as possible. 

“I know that I want you. Don’t you want me?”

Your eyes watered as you waited for Joel’s response. You needed him to tell you that he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. To be rejected again would ruin you. 

“Not like this, sweetheart.”

An admittance that he wanted you back. And even though it wasn’t one full of concreteness, it distracted you enough for him to pull you up on your feet. The sudden movement made you dizzy, your head spinning and mouth-watering at the feeling. 

A nauseating wave was rising with each breath you took. You swayed on your feet, holding onto Joel for support, attempting to prevent yourself from falling.

“Fuck,” you groaned, your usually sharp eyes becoming increasingly blurry. The room was suddenly spinning on a titled axil, every shaky inhale becoming a conscious effort to stop yourself from throwing up.

If Joel was speaking, you certainly couldn’t make out a word he was saying. Though it seemed like your feet were planted directly on the bathroom tile, you were certain that your entire body was whirling round and round.

“Why is the bathroom spinning?” you asked meekly, your blurred eyes searching for his own. Joel looked funny, with the way his face was grimaced, revealing his nervousness. Though his fear should have scared you, it only made you giggle. Stumbling over the air, your face fell flat into his chest. Joel’s large hands cradled you with care, preventing you from falling onto the porcelain toilet that Joel never even got the opportunity to use.

The scent of the brown, thin t-shirt that Joel was wearing was grounded in the essence of a forest. Your nose was buried against the frayed collar of his shirt, an undertone of pine and cedar in the soft cotton. 

“You need to slow down,” Joel commanded, but you snorted at his assertion. “What the hell have you been drinkin’? You clear out Seth’s bar?”

Now you were gripping Joel’s shoulders, bringing your focus back on trying not to puke all over the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. 

“Quentin’s…” you huffed, the side of your face still pressed against the cozy material of Joel’s shirt. There was a sense of warmth and closeness that provided a distraction to your nausea. “Moonshine.”

“Christ. I thought they told that boy to stop makin’ that shit. Gonna end up killin’ somebody,” Joel scolded, attempting to pull you towards the bathroom door. Any movements instantly made your brain buzz and your palms shake, and not in a good way.

Your head shook back and forth in a stiff motion. “Can’t move.”

“Hey, hey,” Joel instructed, slipping his palm against the warm skin of your face. His rough hand made your head lift up to meet his concerned eyes. “Don’t pass out on me now. We need to get some water in you.”

You let out slurred laughter, your face instinctively relaxing in his palm. “I know what I want in me instead.” 

A faint blush ran up from the bottom of Joel’s neck, blooming across his face. “That’s enough. You’re too drunk to even walk straight, come on.”

His hands guided you, moving you closer to the bathroom door, and it was enough to seal your fate. Before you could even warn Joel, you flew like a bat out of hell to the toilet in the corner of the room, emptying the contents of your stomach. There was no room for embarrassment, for regret, not with the way your body was feeling.

Throwing up should have been a relief, but you were still overwhelmed with pain in your stomach. It was as if a knife was being twisted in your gut, making you shudder over the toilet bowl. Joel’s hand found your hair, pulling it back out of your face. 

“Stop,” you gasped, swatting at his palm, “This is so fucking embarrassing.”

The cold porcelain of the toilet pressed against your forehead, sobering you up much quicker than any water could’ve done. Your hair was damp with sweat, clinging to the nape of your neck. You whined incoherently when Joel’s calloused hand rubbed your shoulder, making an effort to comfort you.

“That’s alright now. Not gonna leave you in here by yourself,” he muttered, his voice gruff and low. If you were a little more sober, you would’ve been able to see the awkwardness of the situation. A man, almost double your age, hesitantly rubbing your back while you threw up in his guest bathroom. You would’ve seen the undeniable sincerity in his brusque manner, the meaning behind his actions. 

Things blurred together after that. You’d never blacked out drinking before, much too young to drink before the outbreak, and much too scared to risk getting drunk outside of the walls of Jackson. Being in a closed, guarded town allowed you to live a little, if your meaning of living was getting smashed and forgetting who you were for a couple of hours. 

The next thing you knew, you were groggily opening your eyes while your head throbbed with a dull ache. The bed beneath you felt a little more firm than your own bed. You blinked repeatedly, trying to get your eyes to focus on your surroundings. Disoriented and with the taste of stale alcohol still in your mouth, you rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. 

Blue curtains filtered what you assumed to be early morning light from directly hitting you in the face. There was a recliner adjacent from the bed you were stretched out in, a wooden carving of Texas hanging on the wall.

Oh no. No, no, no. 

‘Please tell me I didn’t black out in Joel’s house,’ you thought to yourself, reaching down to rip the blanket off of your legs. When you stood, leaving Joel’s bed, you quickly stumbled thanks to the lingering effect of Quentin’s moonshine. 

Your foot knocked into the guitar that was placed next to Joel’s bed, making you hiss in pain. A steady throb from your foot sent a wave of discomfort through your already exhausted body. Thankfully, the guitar looked as beautiful as ever. You were sure that if you fucked it up, Joel wouldn’t be so lenient. 

The sudden rush of the bedroom door being opened forced you to jump back in surprise, your heart pounding in your chest. Ellie and Cat stood at the entryway of Joel’s bedroom, watching you, where you were still holding your toe in pain. 

Cat chortled at the sight, her eyes crinkling and shoulders shaking in her amusement. “Sleeping beauty is awake.”

Ellie had what appeared to be half a muffin in her hand, with the other half still being chewed in her mouth. “Jesus, took her long enough. Pretty sure Joel thought you weren’t going to wake up. I had to convince him to go to his patrol shift before Tommy came down here looking for him.”

You were mortified. Absolutely embarrassed down to your fucking core. Imagining Joel waiting up for you after you had almost thrown up on him made you actually want to kill yourself. 

“I’m going to die,” you whispered, wishing that the wooden floor beneath your feet would open up and swallow you whole. “I’m going to actually die.”

Ellie looked dumbfounded while Cat continued to laugh, her entire body shaking in delight. Cat knew that you had a crush on Joel, she saw it on your face the moment she first witnessed you and Joel interacting. You were trading off on a patrol with Joel, dismissing Cat and Connor from their shared shift. Joel had helped you down from Ranger, holding your arm as you jumped to the ground. 

Connor didn’t notice the way your face reddened at the warm feeling of Joel’s palm on your bare skin. Cat, however, instantly bit back a laugh, embarrassing you even further.

Cat had always despised Connor, telling you that he was a sleazeball who wasn’t even near your league. Deep down you knew it was true, but he was all that you had for so long. He held you at night when you had a nightmare about watching your parents die. He braided your hair on those hot summer nights before pressing a kiss into the skin on your shoulder. He was your other half. But you weren’t his. 

Cat slinked into Joel’s room, wrapping her arms around you. “What did you say to him? You should’ve seen him, all red-faced whenever I asked you where you went last night.”

“Oh my god. I don’t even remember. I can’t remember anything past talking to you and Ellie,” you confessed, groaning into your palm. Not only did you have a hangover, but now you were going to have to deal with the aftermath of your apparent alcoholism. 

“What am I missing?” Ellie asked from the doorway, watching Cat swaying you in the middle of the room as she continued to cackle. Ellie’s muffin was held loosely between her fingers, waiting for an answer before she took another bite. 

“Sleeping beauty has a crush on your dad,” Cat winked, your cheeks burning at the way Ellie’s eyes widened. 

“He’s not my dad,” Ellie said before taking a bite of her muffin, “and gross. Why? He’s so… Joel.”

“What’s gross is that you’re talking with your mouth full,” Cat teased, making you walk with her over to where Ellie was standing. “And she has daddy issues. It’s obvious.”

“Cat, I’m begging you, please shut up,” you groaned, watching the way Ellie snorted at Cat’s words. It relieved you to know that Ellie didn’t really give a shit about you being attracted to Joel. You were almost ten years older than her. If it wasn’t for Cat being one of your close friends, you probably wouldn't have gotten the opportunity to see how cool of a person Ellie is. 

“Did he seem upset with me?” you asked, unable to hide your concern. Even though you couldn’t remember exactly what you said to him, you vaguely remembered the smell of his skin. Things that you used to imagine, feeling him, tasting him, now seemed much more vivid. As if it happened.

“All I know is that he’s never let me sleep in his bed. He gave me the shitty mattress and said his back deserved the better bed,” Ellie grumbled, finally finishing her muffin. “You can hang out here if you want but I gotta go do cafeteria duty. It was either that or laundry.”

Ellie made a disgusted look at the idea of doing laundry before walking out of Joel’s bedroom. Cat glanced up at you, dragging you along with her. “I think it’s time for you to do the walk of shame.” Cat’s nose crinkled in distaste. “And take a shower.”

You took Cat’s advice, following both her and Ellie out of Joel’s house. The clothes that you had worn all evening smelt like Joel after sleeping in his bed. Earthy, woody, making your chest warm from the inside out. You parted ways with Ellie when you all passed the cafeteria and waved bye to Cat when you finally made it to your house.

After peeling off your Joel-covered clothes, you stood in your warm shower, letting the hot water droplets wash the previous night from your skin. Though the water couldn’t wash away your embarrassment, it could make you smell less like moonshine and regret.

When you finished showering and brushing your teeth, your headache started sinking in. You went from cabinet to cabinet, searching for painkillers just to find nothing. You knew that you got a new bottle a couple of weeks ago, after a particularly rough period that left you cramping for days. Advil, Tylenol, whatever the fuck, you always made sure medicine was on hand. 

Fucking Connor must have taken it when he moved out. Bastard.

So, you wound up going right back out into the summer sun. The warm rays that typically comforted you amplify the overwhelming throbbing in your head. The chirping of summer birds, the sounds of dogs barking, the distant laughter of children playing — all the usual sounds of a sunny day — seemed to clash with the dull roar of your headache. 

Pain killers. Now.

You covered your tired eyes with the palm of your hand to block the sun from entering your face. When you finally walked inside the small market at the edge of town, you were grateful to see just how quiet it was inside. You greeted Joan at the counter with a strained smile before making it to the pill aisle. There was never anything too special since the clinic had all of the good stuff. Joan got the scraps; vitamins, allergy medicine, melatonin, and thankfully, ibuprofen.

Just as you reached out to grab the ibuprofen, you noticed a familiar voice at the end of the aisle, humming a fucking Shania Twain song. 

Joel.

You felt a sudden rush of warmth, a mix of excitement and nervousness that made your palms sweaty. A blush crept up your cheeks as your eyes met his, a glance that you knew only lasted for a second, but felt like it went on for eternity. 

Reaching out and grabbing the ibuprofen, you mustered enough courage to walk down to where Joel was standing. He didn’t seem upset, angry, nothing like that. Instead, he looked concerned. His mouth was pressed together in a thin line, his body completely still, giving you the opportunity to speak.

When you stood next to him, ibuprofen bottle in hand, you couldn’t find the right words to speak. You didn’t remember anything so you didn’t know what exactly to apologize for even though you wanted to apologize. Thankfully, Joel beat you to it.

“Glad to see that you’re up and walkin’ about. Thought you’d be knocked out for at least another day.”

There was an awkward pause as you processed that he was joking. You chuckled nervously, shifting on your feet due to your unease. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but it was your turn to beat him to speaking. 

“I don’t really know what all I did or said last night, but I truly apologize if I acted out of hand. I’ve been reacting to things badly, really badly, and you’ve always been so nice to me,” you sputtered, nervously spouting off. Joel hid back what appeared to be a smile as he waved you off. 

“It’s just, I shouldn’t have shown up at your face plastered. It wasn’t appropriate and I’m sorry.”

Joel looked contemplative, glancing down at the bottle of pain relievers in your hand. “No need to apologize. I can’t fault you with all that you’ve been goin’ through. Don’t need to feel shy in reachin’ out for help.”

You finally noticed that Joel had some wood glue and sandpaper in his own hands. Joel had brought some of his handiwork along patrol, small wooden carvings, much too intricate for his massive hands. He was skilled with his fingers, much too skilled. Not only could he carve the most delicate pieces, but he was a whiz at guitar. 

You couldn’t help but wonder how else he could use those calloused fingertips. Would they catch across the cotton of your panties as he dragged them against your clothed clit? Would he be able to make you tremble as you climaxed with just the soft stroke of his ring finger? 

“Either way, I’m sorry for whatever I did when I was hammered,” you mumbled, drumming your fingers against your upper arm to distract your nerves. “I don’t want you to act differently on patrol or whatever.”

Before Joel could reply, you heard your name being called. You didn’t even have to look to know that it was Connor. His voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you now. Joel stood up a bit straighter, moving next to your side. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you, but either way, it calmed you down to know that Joel was there to back you up. 

“Hey,” Connor spoke, a frustrated expression of annoyance laced beneath his tone. “I went by the house this morning to get the rest of my stuff and the locks were changed. Care to explain?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, dry as sandpaper. As much as you wanted to speak, you couldn’t find the confidence to shoot out a rebuttal. Ironically enough, Joel was the one who suggested that you changed your locks, and had even gone out of his way to help you install it.

“Can’t you see that we’re in the middle of a conversation here, son?” Joel pressed Connor, his dark eyebrows drawn in irritation. Joel was never much of a fan of Connor, always apologizing when he complained about him around you.

“God, I’m glad we got paired up instead of your boyfriend. Can you believe he’s never heard of Elton John? What do the two of you even talk about?”

Seeing Connor cheating on you only seemed to fuel Joel’s displeasure towards him. Connor’s eyes widened at Joel’s questioning, not anticipating Joel’s very clear disgruntlement at Connor joining the conversation.

“S-sorry Joel, but I’ve been looking everywhere for her,” he turned his focus back to you. If only he knew that you spent your night in Joel’s bed. “Can you just give me your new key so I can get my stuff?”

“You’re the one who left. It’s not “the house” anymore, it’s my house. Anything that’s yours will be left out on the porch by the end of the week,” you explained, unable to make eye contact with Connor. You were too embarrassed by everything still, and standing between Joel and your ex-boyfriend wasn’t the most enlightening position to be in. 

“ End of the week ? Just let me come over today, there’s no point in holding my shit hostage,” Connor hissed. Joel suddenly moved forward, placing himself between you and Connor.

“I think it’s time for you to get goin’, son,” Joel spat. “Don’t let me tell you again.”

You couldn’t see Joel’s face, but you could see how his shoulders squared through his washed-out t-shirt. Joel’s upper arm blocked half of your face from seeing Connor fully, but you saw enough.

Connor was stammering, searching for the correct words to calm Joel down. There was a note of apprehension in his voice as he backed up. “Right, end of the week, got it. Sorry about that.”

And then he was gone. Just like that, Joel was able to make your greatest problem disappear. When Connor was out of the picture, Joel turned back to you, looking at you with those dark eyes, full of concern once more. 

“You alright?”

You nodded. “Just peachy. You didn’t have to do that, but thank you. I appreciate it.”

Joel nodded back at you, suddenly seeming overwhelmed with the need to speak. You knew he wanted to say something, to confess to you. He didn’t, however, and instead went on to comfort you. 

“Of course. Try to get home and get some rest,” Joel reassured you. A large palm found your shoulder, squeezing it before he turned away, leaving you alone in the aisle. Your shoulder burned, the feeling of Joel’s palm pressing into your arm etched into the skin.

You listened to Joel. You took a couple of days to rest, sober up, and pull yourself back together. You even placed all of Connor’s stuff on the porch a day before the week ended, out of the kindness of your heart. Things were seemingly better, or at least not as catastrophic. The only issue was that Joel was acting fucking weird.

When you were over a couple of days later, hanging out with Ellie, Cat, and Angie, Joel avoided talking to you, being near you, laughing at your jokes - everything. He even ignored meeting your gaze, like you had done something overnight to turn him against you. It was the first time you had seen him since running into him at the market, leading you to believe that you had done something to upset him the night you blacked out.

Cat seemed to notice the tension, pulling you aside and asking what had happened. When you explained to her that you didn’t know, she dropped it, but you still couldn’t help but wonder what it was that you had done. It had to have been something. 

So, after you’d finished playing one final round of blackjack and excused yourself from Ellie’s converted bedroom, you couldn’t stop your curiosity. You had to know what you did wrong. 

Cat and Angie booed you on your way out of Ellie’s room after you explained to them that it was late, and you were ready to go home. You laughed and played along with their dramatics. You don’t want them to think that anything was off. 

It was impossible to convince yourself not to wind up outside of Joel’s bedroom. He always kept the back door unlocked in case Ellie needed to come in, or so she said. Come to find out, she wasn’t lying, and the back door was how you found yourself inside of Joel’s house.

Maybe what you were doing was crazy and would do nothing to repair your relationship with Joel. Sneaking into the man's house in the middle of the night didn’t sound exactly rational, but you were still unhinged by everything. And Joel was just so nice. 

Your hand was raised, ready to knock on Joel’s bedroom door when it suddenly opened. 

“El? I heard you comin’ up the-“ Joel started to speak before realizing that it was actually you that he had heard. He whispered your name, glancing behind you to see if anyone else was with you. “Everything alright? Didn’t expect to see you here so late.”

You weren’t going to waste Joel’s time and decided to get straight to the point. It also could’ve been blamed on the way Joel looked, with flannel bottoms and a thin waffle sweater hugging his biceps. He was covered entirely, but he could’ve been naked for all you noticed. He made anything look sinful, made any rational thoughts fly out of the window.

“Did I do something the other night? Or say something?” you asked. Joel faltered, and even though you knew deep down that you had said something out of pocket, you didn’t expect Joel’s next words.

“Come on, it’s late. Let’s not start with this again,” Joel grumbled, leaning against the frame of the door. Even if he wanted to act like nothing had happened, you were certain he was just wanting to save you from your own embarrassment. You knew that you fucked up, you could tell with the way he couldn’t bring his eyes to meet your own.

You decided to finally go through with confronting him, your voice edged with frustration and concern. “Why are you acting weird? You can’t even look me in the eyes.”

Joel huffed before rolling his eyes. “I’m not actin’ weird. You should get goin’, we’re both on patrol in the mornin’, no point in all of this.”

“Cat said you were acting weird.”

“Cat is too busy havin’ her eyes glued on  Ellie to worry about anythin’ else.”

You practically stomped your foot, grumbling at Joel’s blatant objection to answering your question. “Just be honest.”

“Jesus, little girl, what does it matter?”

“Christ Joel, why can’t you just tell me?” you groaned, your volume increasing just as quickly as your annoyance was.

“Fine!” Joel shouted back, throwing his hands up in the air. “You asked to taste me. Got on your knees and tried to unbuckle my belt. That’s what you did. Happy now?”

You were speechless. You wouldn’t have - you couldn’t have done that to Joel. No amount of moonshine would make you that fucking bold. Your throat felt like it was closing up, making breathing much more difficult. 

“Fuck, oh my god,” you sputtered. Your hands were shaking as you raised them to cover your face. 

“It’s not a big deal. You watched your boyfriend cheat on you for Christ's sake. You were upset and vulnerable. You didn’t mean any of it,” Joel explained, reaching out to grab your wrist and pull your hands away from your face. His fingers were rough against the soft skin of your arm. A burn that started from his fingertips, making a searing heat rush through your body. 

You might’ve been drunk, but you did mean it. You wanted to know how his mouth tasted, how he sounded moaning while you sucked on his length. If he would be rough with you, only take what he wanted or if he would take his time, make you memorize his cock.

“And did you?” you whispered, glancing down at the hand gripping your arm.

Joel’s chest was heaving, quite clearly riled up. You’d never seen him so unhinged, on edge. “Did I what?”

You met his gaze, his pupils burning into yours. It was magnetic, electrifying. 

“Did you let me taste you?”

He didn’t expect that from you, not at all. Joel’s hand that was holding your arm shook, quickly pulling away from you, as if he burned himself. He looked guilty, embarrassed even. 

“It wasn’t right of me, I know. I’ve been vulnerable too, with Ellie bein’ gone all the time now. I got wrapped up in it.”

You wanted to jump his bones. It took everything in you not to leap on him then and there. He let you fucking taste him. Joel wanted you to taste him. He wanted you. 

Your hand reached out to grab his arm, forcing him to place his large palm against the skin of your throat. Joel watched you with wide eyes, allowing you to control his movement. His fingers glided down your skin, leaving a lingering trail of goosebumps on your neck. You continued to slide his hand, down, down, until your palm wrapped around his own to fist your breast.

You couldn’t help the whimper you released, Joel’s large palm kneading into the sensitive skin. You hadn’t stopped looking at him, unable to break the connection that you had. 

“Christ, sweetheart,” Joel breathed, watching you press his palm into the softness of your breast. “This ain’t right. You’re not thinkin’ straight.”

“I’ve always thought about it, Joel. How it’d feel. Remember that patrol we had a while back? With the lavender field?”

Joel nodded. You remembered stumbling into a lavender field, full of bees and butterflies. It was untouched, beautiful. You told him that you always loved lavender, the taste of it in warm tea with honey. You were both in a rush to get to the next post, that you didn’t want to take the time to pick them. You found them on your front porch that evening, picked and pruned. 

“Nobody had ever done something so kind for me. Not since before. It felt like I mattered for once,” you whispered, moaning when the pad of his thumb brushed against your hardening nipple. 

His eyes were dark but you could see a fire igniting behind them, burning and smoldering. “You’ve always mattered. You see how much your friends care about you.”

“I want you to care about me, Joel,” you murmured, reaching for his free hand. You let his palm on your breast go, allowing him to feel your chest all on his own. You traced the outline of your lips with his other hand, kissing the rough, calloused tips of his fingers. “I want to know what it feels like to wake up to your cock pressed between my thighs.”

He stared at you, his jaw tightening as he swallowed thickly. “You don’t know what you want. You’re upset and confused.”

You shook your head, sliding one of Joel’s fingers into your mouth. The look on his face was stony, contemplative. But still, he let you take what you wanted. He let you suck on the rough pad of his finger, swirling your tongue around the tip. He let you flutter your eyes and moan into the skin of his hand when he squeezed your breast. He let you worship him.

“I’m not a good man. I’ve done things you’d have nightmares about. That’s what turns you on? Get’s your blood pumpin’?” Joel asked, watching you fall apart in front of him. You were a moaning, whimpering mess, overwhelmed with finally indulging yourself in Joel Miller himself.

“Touch me,” you gasped, unable to contain yourself any longer. You hadn’t even walked into Joel’s bedroom and you were already begging for anything he’d give you. 

“I am touchin’ you,” Joel said, glancing down at your chest with heavy eyes. 

“No…” you whined, pushing Joel’s hand away from your mouth and down to your aching pussy. “Touch me here.”

Joel’s hand didn’t even have an opportunity to graze against your core before he was pushing you back. He pulled his hands away from you, looking anywhere but your face. 

“We can’t. Go home,” Joel begged, no longer letting you get away with using his fingers for your own pleasure. He rejected you. 

You blinked up at him, willing yourself not to cry. You fought to hold back pitiful tears, your eyes shining with unshed emotion. You were desperately trying to maintain your composure, not wanting to make the situation even worse by fucking crying. 

Joel noticed how hard you were trying to keep yourself together, noticed that you were on the brink of falling apart.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Joel whispered. “Don’t cry.” He reached out to graze your cheek, but you pulled away, too ashamed to let it go on any further.

“Sorry, Joel. It won’t happen again,” you said, your voice trembling as you spoke. Turning around, you moved to leave Joel’s doorway, to walk down the steps and run out of the house. You felt his fingers brush against your arm, but you were already moving and had no intentions of turning around.

“Hang on now, wait just a second. It doesn’t have to be like this,” Joel explained, but it was over. You walked away from him, trying to hide the overwhelming amount of shame you were met with.

You slipped back out of his house the same way you had entered it, overwhelmed and confused. The night did nothing but enhance your restlessness. You tossed and turned in bed, thinking about how you fucked everything up. Joel was nice and sweet but he was your friend, double your age. Of course, he wouldn’t want you. 

You opened your eyes in the darkness, looking at the empty spot in your bed where Connor used to sleep. You wondered if he was happy with Evelyn, if she filled the empty space in his heart that you were unable to fill. You wondered if he loved her.

Was something wrong with you? Were you so unlovable, did you somehow get cursed to be alone for all of eternity?

Meeting Joel for patrol the next day felt worse than any wound you had ever endured. You hoped that maybe you scared Joel off. Perhaps he wouldn’t even show up. 

But there he was. Sitting on Old Beardy, where he had already saddled up Ranger, both him and your horse waiting for you. 

When Joel noticed you approaching, he gave you a smile that wavered at the corners, uncertain and hesitant. You glanced back momentarily, considering turning and leaving. You decided against it.

“Morning,” was all you said to him before climbing on Ranger, heading out of the front gates. You weren’t trying to give him the cold shoulder, but you were just so embarrassed. Embarrassed that he had seen you at your worst and that you continued to mess things up.

Joel, bless his heart, tried his best to talk to you, to make things seem as normal as possible. You just couldn’t ignore your feelings, you couldn’t ignore the way Joel’s hand felt pressed against your chest. So, your replies to his comments were very minimal.

“Tommy said he saw this old DVD shop a few miles out, near the creek trail. It probably has some CDs in it. Wanna ride out and see if we can find anythin’ good the next time we’re assigned to the creek?” Joel asked at the start of the trip, throwing a glance at you. 

You shrugged, nonchalantly. “If it’s out of the way, is it worth the risk?”

Joel tutted at you. “If you’re with me, there won’t be no risk. Besides, it’s not that far from the usual path.”

He waited for your usual expression of excitement, your eager smile never arriving. 

“I’m good.”

Joel faltered, frowning at your response. It was unlike you to turn down something you would usually love to do. When you first went on patrols with Joel, you would be the one to convince him to go off track, check out some stores that could be beneficial. Not the other way around.

“Fine, then,” Joel replied, his Texan accent thick due to his annoyance. He squared off his shoulders and redirected his focus back to the path. He pulled on Old Beardy’s reins to gain a bit more speed, leaving you a couple of feet behind him. 

It sucked to have Joel be annoyed at you, but you had nobody to blame but yourself. You wanted to sulk in your displeasure, you wanted to feel like you deserved it. 

Patrol went smoothly, until it didn’t. You and Joel cleared out a couple of houses, making the usual rounds. It was a regularly patrolled area, one that didn’t stir up too much drama. 

Except, for the clicker in the basement of Marty’s Hardware. You and Joel visited it quite frequently, whenever Joel was in need of a certain tool or supplies for whatever project he was working on. 

Everyone in Jackson knew that there was a clicker in the basement of the building, it would creak and groan the moment it heard voices. The thing was, though, that the stairs leading down to the basement were caved in. Whatever supplies, equipment, or secrets would be unreachable - including killing the clicker below. There was no point in risking a close call, not over what appeared to be one sole clicker.

So you were careless. You told Joel that you’d wait outside while he went in and grabbed whatever materials he needed for the guitar he was working on. He didn’t complain, knowing that you were in a mood that wouldn’t allow him to convince you to go in. 

You kicked at a clump of mushrooms growing alongside the outside of the hardware store, sighing as you waited for Joel. Maybe you should just apologize, move past all the shit, explain that you weren’t thinking straight. 

Sighing, you leaned against the brick wall of the building, glancing down at a hole in the bottom of the wall. It was an ancient store, crumbling and falling apart, but somehow Joel was still able to find things worth saving. Ironic.

A low click began to hum from the bottom of the wall, the clicker greeting you with hushed sounds. You were surprised it hadn’t died of starvation yet; it must’ve been down there for at least a couple of years. Shit, maybe it was Marty himself. 

“Shut up,” you commanded, kicking at the crumbling wall. The clicker snarled back, and even though you couldn’t see it through the darkness, you knew it must’ve been close. It was thrashing against the wall, snarling and shaking. How did it still have so much energy? It was either eating something, maybe rats or rabbits, or it was struggling from pure desperation. The need to feast, the need to eat. 

It was dumb, what you did next, and you knew that. You still decided to do it anyway.

You kicked against the decaying wall again, watching some of the bricks crumble into the hole. The clicker was getting louder, more agitated, but you kept kicking at the wall, anger getting the best of you. So many emotions were bubbling up, overwhelming you, ruining you.

It happened quickly. Your foot getting stuck in the wall, the clicker grabbing your ankle. Your body was ripped to the ground, almost falling face-first into those same exact mushrooms you had crushed moments before.

No time to gasp, no time to scream, you could only whimper at the feeling of the clickers fingers clawing at your ankle. It was using you as a way to climb out, pulling your leg into the hole and climbing up your body. And for some reason, you watched. You watched this distorted, mutilated version of a human being desperately grasping at your body in an attempt to escape.

Its head was poking out of the hole now, dangerously close to biting your leg. For a moment, you considered. What if you didn’t make an attempt to flee? What if you succumbed to its efforts, letting the clicker bite you, letting it end your measly suffering? You wouldn’t have let it happen, not really, but you took a moment to just think about the possibility of it ending.

And then you watched its head get blown back, right into the hole it was desperately trying to escape. All you heard was its body thud on the basement floor below, the clicker who had so hopelessly tried to escape finally meeting its end. 

You looked up to see Joel towering over you, an expression deeper than anger painting his face. He was furious, practically fuming. If he looked any angrier, you were sure smoke would come out of his ears. 

Yet, he didn’t speak. He only put away his gun, reached down, and helped you up. You tried to open your mouth to explain everything to him, but Joel raised his hand to cut you off.

“Save it,” he spat. “You get bit?”

You shook your head no slowly, your eyes wide and terrified. You’d never seen him so fucking angry, much less at you. It made you want to cry and beg for his forgiveness.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning away from you. In order to avoid making him any more upset, you followed wordlessly. You both climbed on your horses and made your way to the marked outpost, where you were to wait until the next group came along to relieve you of your patrol shift. Cat and Connor were scheduled for today. 

Being around Joel when he was angry felt like tip-toeing around an angry bear. You didn’t want to do anything to set him off but you still wanted his attention so badly. 

Well, the moment you stepped into the old bookstore that was being used as a patrol post, you got exactly what you wanted.

Joel’s attention.

“Wanna explain what the fuck happened back there?” Joel asked the second he shut the door behind him, his voice angry and frustrated. He had it up to his neck with your foolishness and you could tell that enough was enough. 

You sighed. “Nothing.”

A scowl formed on Joel’s face, his brows furrowing deeply. “Nothin’ my ass. You could’ve died. Just because you feel like nobody gives a shit about you doesn’t mean you can make stupid mistakes.”

“It was nothing, Joel. It doesn’t fucking matter.”

The sudden sound of Joel smacking the wooden bookshelf to his left made you jump. “Of course, it matters!” he growled. “You need to pull your head out of your ass and think about what you’re doin’. What if you died and I had to go back and tell Cat? Explain to her and Ellie how you died on my watch.”

Joel waited for a rebuttal, his eyes narrowed in irritation. A burning heat rose from your chest from the way he was looking at you, making you want to scream.

“Well,” you spat, “I guess it's a good thing I didn’t then.”

He shook his head, laughing without humor as he crossed his arms. The way his muscles flexed in his shirt shouldn’t have been the focus of your conversation, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes darted to look.

“You know what, you’re infuriatin’. I’m done talkin’ to you, it’s like talkin’ to a brick fuckin’ wall.”

You snorted, crossing your arms to match his stance. “Glad we both understand each other then.”

He stood stiffly, his back straight and unyielding. He tilted his head up, staring up at the ceiling as if he was seeking patience from God above. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

“It means that you aren’t exactly transparent either, Joel. I’ve been throwing myself at you, making a fool of myself, yet you’re still here acting like you care.” Your voice wavered towards the end, making you swallow down quickly in an attempt to mask it. Joel noticed anyway. He always did. 

Joel sighed, stepping towards you. He seemed to hesitate in his steps, faltering the closer he got to you. “I do care. I think that’s always been obvious.”

You felt a slight tremor in your knees as you stood across from Joel, making it hard to stand still. “Then why do you have to act so emotionally constipated all the time?”

Joel blinked at you in disbelief. “What in the world are you talkin’ about?”

You chewed on your lower lip when you looked up at Joel. He was so handsome, so perfect. So kind and sweet and dangerous. He’d kill for you. And you’d do the same. 

“Why can’t you just tell me if you are attracted to me?” you asked, the pitiful whimper of your voice making you flinch. Joel’s expression softened at your question, finally seeing you for what you were. Scared. 

You were scared, scared of rejection, scared of being alone. You weren’t hunting down Joel's affection to replace the hole Connor had given you, no, that wasn’t it. 

You wanted Joel. You had always wanted him. 

“It’s not that simple, sweetheart,” Joel explained, but the band that was holding you together had finally snapped. You began to close the space between your bodies, moving forward to Joel. 

“Yes it is,” you said simply. 

“No, it’s not-“

Too late. Your hands gripped the fabric of his t-shirt as you pulled him forward, standing up on your tiptoes to reach his lips. The moment his lips touched yours, you whimpered, melting at the feeling. You dragged him with you as you sat on a shelf next to the wall, pulling his body in between your spread legs.

“Hang on now,” Joel whispered into your lips, pulling away, but you wouldn’t let him talk himself out of this. Not now.

“Please, for once Joel, just shut up and let something good happen to you,” you begged against his lips, staring straight into his eyes. You could see the conflict swirling around like smoke behind his dark irises. Joel was your friend, your much older friend, yes, but you wanted him. He had no reason to feel guilt. 

“There’s no talkin’ you out of this huh?” Joel whispered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

You shook your head no, reaching for Joel’s hand. You mimicked your actions from the night before, making his hand go down, lower and lower until his rough fingers brushed against the zipper of your pants. “Touch me,” you pleaded. 

Joel exhaled, taking control. The pads of his fingers ran a trail down your zipper, the feeling of his fingers making you whimper. He started to slowly unbutton your pants, but you just couldn’t control yourself anymore. You assisted him in undoing your pants, rushing him to slip his fingers through your waistband.

“Poor little thing, been desperate for me?” Joel asked, teasing the skin of your abdomen. You nodded, feeling your pussy pulse in excitement. You needed him, now, but he was taking his sweet time touching you. His rough fingers traced around your bladder, inching deeper into your pants. He was exploring you, watching the way that you would tremble in excitement at the feeling of his hands.

“Please, Joel, I’ve wanted this for so long,” you admitted, rutting your hips into his touch. He looked sad for a moment, stopping his descent into your panties to kiss you on the lips. You whimpered into his mouth, gripping the front of his shirt with your hands. 

He slid his tongue into your mouth, slowly, tracing your own tongue. Before he slid back entirely, he nipped on your lip and whispered, “You’ve deserved so much better.”

The weight of the situation turned you on as much as it made your body pulse. The look in Joel’s eyes, the way he kissed you - it was all more than just sex, it felt like he was worshiping you. Breathing his worth into everything you had been doubting. If you deserved to feel good. If you deserved to feel loved. 

Your eyes began to water, and though you half expected Joel to address it, he didn’t. Instead, he allowed his hands to continue slipping further into your pants until he finally ran his finger around the outline of your pussy.

You gasped, glancing down at Joel’s hand moving in your denim pants. His palm was massive, and you wondered for a moment how he could even fit it in the space of your jeans. 

“Sweetheart, you’re fuckin’ pulsing,” Joel groaned when his palm went to cup the entirety of your pussy. Eyes rolling back into your head, you went limp while Joel decided to slip his middle finger inside of you. The wet squelch made you blush, but it made Joel fucking growl.

“This what you’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout? Me stickin’ my fingers in you, stretchin’ you out?” 

It was as if he could read your thoughts, because it was true. So many nights you’d dream about Joel making love to you, protecting you, making you feel important. Dreaming could’ve never prepared you for how it actually feels, how his finger curls deep inside of you. 

You had a vice grip on his shoulders, your jaw slack and breaths rushed as you watched him finger you. Even though you couldn’t see through the denim, you could hear every movement, every push. 

Words were jumbled, and your thoughts were quickly blurring the faster Joel fingered you. One of your hands reached for his arms, trying to get him to slow down, but you weren’t a match to stop him. 

“Wait,” you gasped, feeling him slip another finger inside of you. It had been quite a while since you’d been intimate with Connor, and even though you sometimes got yourself off during that time period, it was nothing compared to Joel. The size of his hands, the way his body crowded you, it was all too overwhelming.

“I’m not waitin’ for you, sweetheart. You’re gonna take what I give you because you’ve been beggin’ for it, haven’t you?” Joel asked, his two fingers curling in you. It was delicious, the stretch and ache that you were feeling. And Joel, talking to you the way he was? You’d dreamed about it too many times to count, but to actually have him whispering in your ears was a different experience.

His free hand palmed against your breast, squeezing it with an unexpected force that had you cursing under your breath. “You already gettin’ close? I’ve barely started.”

His tone was condescending, teasing, and you loved every second of it. You knew he didn’t mean it. He showed you that he didn’t with the way his eyes watched you, soft and sweet. Despite his exterior, he really was a sweetheart. 

“Make me yours, Joel,” you whispered, grinding your hips down on his fingers. The calloused tips of his index and middle finger curling against your g-spot made you gasp. Joel’s jaw was clenched from your words, emotions running through him in the same way they were running through you.

“That’s what you want?” Joel asked, his thumb reaching up to rub circles into your clit. A hiss escaped you at the pressure, hips buckling up and stuttering into his palm. “Want me to fuck you? Make your little ex-boyfriend jealous?”

“Fuck him,” you snarled, basking in the way Joel smirked down at your abrasiveness. “I’ve imagined it was you instead of him sometimes, touching me, making me feel good.”

“Fuck,” Joel muttered at your admittance, speeding up the pace of his fingers sliding in and out of you. Each squelch brought you closer and closer to orgasming, but the press of Joel’s thumb against your clit and the heat behind his unwavering eyes is what finally finished you off.

Joel tutted, working you through your orgasm. “Thaat’s it sweetheart,” he drawled out, leaning in to press a sloppy kiss against your lips. All you could do was moan in his mouth as you came, shaking like jello on the old shelf. 

“You gonna let me stick my dick in you, sweetheart?” Joel whispered into your lips, his filthy words making you shudder. 

Breathlessly, you kissed him before speaking. “When you ask so nice, how am I supposed to say no?”

He huffed out a laugh, reaching back to slip his fingers out of you and work your pants down. It only took seconds for Joel to have your jeans hanging by your ankles and for him to work his own zipper down.

His cock looked like it was sculpted by God, thick with a dark patch of wiry hair curling around the base. The tip was red and angry, begging for relief. You wondered how long it had been since Joel last slept with someone. He seemed disinterested in anything romantic, focusing all his time on raising Ellie. You couldn’t believe that you were the one who finally cracked him. 

“Pull these legs up for me,” Joel spoke, tapping your thigh. You spread your thighs, pulling up your calves until your thighs were pressing into your hips. Joel’s eyes practically fucked you, running a hot trail from your exposed pussy up to your desperate face. 

Your eyes closed shut, too overwhelmed with the way Joel was looking at you. You wouldn’t have been surprised to fall apart again just because of his gaze. 

“Watch,” Joel commanded, the tip of his cock softly pressing against your opening. You listened, glancing down to watch his cock slowly spread you apart. You wanted to squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back, but you didn’t want to do anything to make Joel pull out of you. 

“Christ, like a fuckin’ waterfall in here,” Joel panted, reaching up to press your thighs further into your stomach. He was folding you into your own body, jackhammering his cock deep inside of you. 

Your vision blurred the harder Joel fucked you, making you slump in exhaustion.

“Please, please Joel,” you begged, whining at each push of his hips. You weren’t even sure what you were begging for - for him to stop? For him to touch you? All you knew was that you felt as if you were floating between two planes, completely blissed out.

“What, sweetheart? You’ve needed this? You’ve needed my dick deep in that pretty little pussy?” Joel asked, standing straight up and pressing your body even more into itself. You could see his cock pressing into your stomach, stretching you out and making you his. 

“Please, fill me up Joel, make me yours,” you whimpered, unable to do anything but let Joel bury himself balls deep inside of you. His hand reached down to rub rough circles into your clit, making you jump due to the overstimulation of his fingers.

“You’re gonna give me one more, sweetheart,” Joel said, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss against your mouth. “One more and then I’ll let myself ruin your pussy. Think you can do that for me?”

You nodded against his lips, shifting your hips the best you could. His fingers were swiping across your sensitive bud, your legs jerking with each circle he created.

“Fuck, it feels so good, I wanna come so bad,” you whined into his lips, grinding your hips down to meet his.

“Patience baby, patience.”

You could feel his cock flex inside of you, indicating his approaching orgasm. Your eyes moved away from the sight of Joel’s body connecting with yours and up to his face. His own eyes were already watching you, filled with lust, desire, and something much more passionate. Adoration.

The look in his eyes was enough to hit your breaking point. The intensity and the lust had simmered for too long, and now it had reached its boiling point, spilling over in an explosion of gasps. Joel followed shortly after you, catching your lips in a breathless kiss that was closer to a mashing of teeth than an actual kiss. His deep groan of pure bliss made your heart pang. You were proud that you were able to bring him a fraction of the pleasure and happiness that he provided you. It made you feel wanted again.

He pulled out of you, lifting his shirt before fisting his cock that was still dripping in your slick. He was moving with such vigor and desperation, something that you had only seen during the pressure of fighting off infected.

Your eyes were locked on the long ropes of come that coated his stomach, a drawn-out sigh of relief leaving Joel’s lips.

“Joel,” you whimpered, looking up at him with wide, doe eyes. You weren’t sure what you wanted to say, and even though your mouth widened to speak, nothing came out. His eyes lingered on you, something shifting in the way he was looking at you now. It wasn’t just admiration—it was deeper, a softening in his gaze as if he suddenly understood.

Then the door to the bookstore opened, Cat’s frame blocking the rays of sunshine from streaming in entirely. Joel jumped, shifting his body to prevent your naked frame from being seen.

“Fuck,” Cat blurted out, her eyes wide in shock. She pulled back to shut the door behind her, yelling at Connor to wait for just a second.

“Christ,” Joel grumbled, but you could see the smile that teetered on the edge of his mouth. You imagined that he got some sort of rise out of being caught because truthfully, you weren’t even as embarrassed as you thought you would have been. It was almost freeing in a way.

“Joel,” you whispered again, reaching down to grab your panties to pass over to him. He gently but quickly started to clean himself, not allowing you to whisper his name once more.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said with a smile. “I feel it too.”

The realization hit you harder than you expected, making your heart race and your breath catch. You weren’t just infatuated or imagining things. They were real, and so was this feeling that you were sharing with Joel.

He helped you slip up your pants, fully commando after handing off your panties to Joel. You were both cleaned up and somewhat put together, but you could still hear Cat yelling at Connor.

“After we’re done dealin’ with him, I’m gonna take you home and do things proper,” Joel spoke, catching your lips in a soft kiss. “I’ll cook you dinner, make you feel worthy. You won’t ever have to worry again when you’re with me. You understand?”

And there it went again, the fucking tears. This time, they were tears of joy and contentment. You nodded, a big grin crossing your face. 

“What’s going on in there, we don’t have all day!” Connor shouted from outside the bookstore, banging on the door. He was a ghost to Joel, no reaction crossing his face at the noise coming from outside. He was too caught up in you.

“Say it,” Joel commanded. “Let me hear it.”

You nodded. “I understand.”