charlie

Joel’s not entirely used to it yet. The freedom to stop and soak in the beauty standing there in front of him. Strange to think that two years ago, life had been different. Gone are the days of working long, grueling hours, earning ration cards that barely afforded him much. Back when he snuck in and out of the QZ, smuggling just to keep his lights on and pass the time. Then there had come the task of taking Ellie to the Fireflies, and the pain and loss that had risen from that.

In between all those and settling down in Jackson for good, there hasn't been a whole lot of time to slow down, breathe, and live. There was no room to do so when survival was the sole thing at the forefront of his mind.

He thought it would never end. Thought that he would never get the chance to rest, to have a life resembling a version of the past. He was proven wrong when he set foot in this town. It took a while to adjust—and he still is— but he has never felt safer. Never needed to be on a constant high alert, primed to fight off infected or worse.

Here in Jackson, there's running hot water in the shower, fresh meals every day, and comfortable beds—actual ones with clean mattresses and pillows and blankets. It feels so normal, as if this town had been left untouched by the horrors all these years. Kids went to school, neighborhoods hosted potlucks and parties. There are even movie nights held every week at the makeshift theater.

While threats continue to exist beyond the gates, they no longer plague everyone's mind at every minute of every hour. Fear doesn’t hold them back anymore. The community thrives; people are happy, and life moves freely along with the changing seasons.

And Joel... Joel has time again. So much time, and a family— old, new, and found. He's got a nice house with a white picket fence. He has a job in town and has even fallen back into some of his past hobbies.

He has a purpose, has much more to live for now.

If only Sarah could see how far he’s come along.

Joel reckons she would be proud of him. Remembering her doesn't torment him as much as it once did. What used to be a searing pain slicing through his heart has now mellowed into an ache that throbs from time to time. He supposed the journey with Ellie had begun healing the decades-old wound of loss. No longer does it bleed him dry.

Sarah would have loved it here. He imagines her getting along so well with Ellie that the two would undoubtedly conspire against him, driving him crazy, just as any teenage girl would with her father. She would have doted over her baby cousin Benjamin, admired her new aunt Maria, and teased her uncle Tommy for finally settling down.

And he thinks— no, he knows that Sarah would have adored you.

You, his closest friend and patrol partner. The most kind-hearted and patient person there is in all of Jackson, who’s always there to lend a hand or be a shoulder to cry on. Who could brighten up an entire room just by stepping inside of it.

You’re a constant in Joel’s life these days. What started out as a simple camaraderie stemming from daily patrols together has turned into something much more. You started coming over for dinners at least once a week, volunteered to tutor Ellie in your spare time, and even helped him look after Benji when Tommy and Maria needed a night off.

Then there are the little things Joel began to notice: how his eyes linger on you a beat longer than he realizes, the way his heart picks up a fraction when he hears the sound of your voice. More than once, he has caught himself smiling when you entered his thoughts, just like he was doing right at this moment.

He can't seem to shake you off. Not that he wants to.

It's complicated. He is complicated.

For years, Joel kept his distance from others. Locked away his emotions behind thick, impenetrable walls. He didn't let anyone get close to him; he couldn't.

When Sarah died, he’d come to believe that attachment was a liability. That it led to weakness, an open invitation for hurt. It’s why things with Tess never went any further than what she had wished, much to his regret.

But after Ellie had chipped away at those defenses— melted down Joel's cold, hardened exterior— warming up to you came surprisingly natural for him.

Joel admires you, or at least that's what he calls this feeling. He's at a loss trying to explain it, to make sense of it. It is admiration, isn't it?

He admires how you treat Ellie, how you genuinely care for her along with Tommy and his family, and every single person in town. You’re dedicated, loyal. Someone people can always count on. Someone who remembers the small things they say and makes them feel seen.

He admires the way you carry yourself outside of the safety of Jackson. Confident and headstrong, as if what's out there should be wary of you instead. You work well with Joel on patrols, already knowing how to handle yourself and keep up with his pace from the start. You're sharp and fierce, and one hell of a crack shot. Perhaps even better than he is, though he won't admit that out loud yet.

Most of all, Joel admires your kindness towards him, as if it were something rare, almost sacred. You soften out all the rough edges of him, bringing out a side of him that he thought had died the night of the outbreak. Even Tommy remarked at one point how he's changed from the man he once was, thanks to you. Joel had only hummed in response to that, but deep down, he knew that much was true.

Yes, it's merely admiration. A quiet reverence, an appreciation. Fondness. The kind of affection that Joel would have for any other friend. What else could it be?

You continue to linger in Joel’s head as the skies shift from streaks of pale pink to a wave of soft blue.

The rest of the town stirs awake, leaving their homes to go on about their day. Joel's unsure of what to do for his. He's not scheduled for patrol this weekend, and he hadn't planned on anything beforehand to occupy his time. He figures you'll drop by in the next couple of hours, just as you usually do on your days off, as if it's routine.

Joel never minds your company. In fact, he's looking forward to it more than he lets on.

Then, as if his endless thoughts alone had summoned you, there you are, coming into view. Real and radiant as you walk down the pathway cutting through his front yard.

Joel doesn't know what to make of the gentle flutter stirring in his chest as he watches you. There’s a gravity to your presence, a magnetic pull that compels him to stand from his seat and meet you halfway on the porch steps.

“Morning, Joel,” you chirp, looping an arm around his shoulders to reel him in for a hug. It lasts for a few short seconds, your sweet honey scent clinging to Joel’s senses even after you pull away. The smile that blooms across your lips is wide and bright, he swears it could eclipse the sun.

"Mornin' to you, too," he greets, unable to help the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. "What brings you 'round here? Thought you'd sleepin' in. It's our day off, remember?"

"Yeah, well, like you, I'm allergic to waking up past the crack of dawn. Habits are hard to break, I guess," you answer with a small shrug. "Plus, I got a surprise for you. It couldn't wait any longer."

Joel tilts his head, brows furrowing as he inspects the palm-sized burlap sack you lift up for him to see.

You incline your head towards the bag, a silent cue for him to take it, which he does. His fingers gently graze against yours, and he feels something fleeting yet undeniable. A brief spark that travels up the entire length of his arm upon contact. He exhales a hushed breath as his hand works steadily to pull back the drawstring, revealing its contents.

Immediately, Joel catches the familiar, rich, nutty aroma. He doesn't need to look further inside. His eyes meet yours, disbelief settling over his features as he processes what you have just given to him.

"It'll brew about ten cups, give or take. Maybe fifteen if you ration it wisely. But it's definitely more than you currently have."

"W-Where'd you find these?" He asks, completely struck with awe at you managing to get hold of coffee beans, a rare luxury in this world these days.

It's been exactly six months and ten days since Joel had the pleasure of indulging in a cup. Jackson's usual coffee supplier had come up empty-handed these last trade visits, giving no indication when it would be available again, and that was if it ever would be.

You could say he's gone nearly stir crazy ever since.

"I worked my magic around," you reply. Joel feels your eyes sweep over his face, as if carefully studying every feature. He doesn't miss the subtle curl of your lips either. "I found someone who did me a big solid and got me in contact with a guy living down south. Took forever to get here though— this was supposed to be your present last Christmas."

A soft chuckle bubbles out of Joel. “Got tired of me complainin’, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” you agree teasingly. “Don’t think there was ever a day when you didn’t mention how desperate you were for a cup. You were starting to turn into a big grump again without it.”

“Wha— really?”

You let out a snort, answering with a lighthearted tone. “Yes, really— you snapped at the tea I offered you one time, called it a cup of boiling disappointment.”

“Not gonna take those words back. Tea just doesn’t hit the spot like coffee does,” Joel says with a playful glint in his eye. “But thank you, darlin’. You don’t gotta go through all that trouble for me.”

"I don't mind. From the looks of it, it was very much worth it," you murmur, your hand unexpectedly moving to rest on Joel's arm, giving him a light squeeze.

It could have been nothing other than a friendly gesture, though it's the kind of touch that makes him wonder if there's more behind it when you don't let go right away.

There's a quiet beat that stretches on for many more. It's only then that Joel notices how close the two of you stand before each other, neither seeming to dare step away. The air between you feels different now, charged with something else unspoken.

Almost on its own accord, Joel’s hand reaches for you, pausing just shy above your cheek in uncertainty, as if he’s suddenly become aware of what he’s doing. He swallows thickly, and right before he could draw his hand back, your fingers are curling around his wrist.

Not to push him away, no. Slowly, you lead his touch to your face like he had intended to— a silent invitation, a permission, a plea. 

Your skin is soft under the palm of his hand. Joel swears he could feel the warmth of you spread throughout him. It sinks past his bones and seeps deeper inside until finding a tender corner of his heart. His thumb brushes a slow, delicate line along your cheek, and your breath hitches, your eyes closing briefly as if to savor this as much as he is.

With a whisper of your name, Joel gently coaxes your eyes open again, having missed them in the fleeting seconds he couldn’t see them. And when they finally reconnect with his, he instantly falls into a daze, caught in an enchantment that lives within you.

Here, time doesn't pass, the wind all around stills, the earth doesn’t move an inch.

Here, all the pieces came together, clicking into place.

Joel can finally see this for what it is.

In a moment of sudden clarity, the words he’s been searching for are there, flashing in his head. Three of them. One with four letters bearing the most weight.

Of course, he hadn't recognized it at first, having only experienced it once a lifetime ago: Sarah's mother. He'd forgotten what it was like, resigned to the fact that it'd never find him again, had he wished for it to in the first place.

But perhaps deep down, there's a part of Joel that did. Because here it was, staring back at him from the depths of your eyes.

It has found him. Rather, you did.

"Joel, you okay? You look like you've seen a clicker."

Your voice is lost to Joel. Drowned in the thunderous pounding of his heartbeat. His mind moves slower than the rest of him. He licks his lips and parts them unconsciously, not knowing of what's about to fall.

And when they do, they start to spill without so much of an effort to hold them back:

“I l—”

“—Joel? Joooel? Where the hell are you man? I can’t find my red hoodie anywhere.”

Like hot, burning lightning, it’s then that everything strikes Joel all at once. The revelation, the near-confession, Ellie's abrupt appearance.

Her voice pierces the moment, breaking the spell Joel was bound to. He snaps back into reality, his throat working, mouth dry. He doesn’t mean to, but he takes a shaky step back, the wooden floorboard of his porch creaking as he does.

Gaze darting away from yours, Joel drags his hand over his face. There's a storm inside his head. A hurricane of panic and doubt threatens to consume him, if it hasn't done so already.

It was love. It has always been love all this time. Woven into every glance, every word, every moment shared together underneath the sun and the stars.

You aren’t just a friend to him. He had crossed that line without even realizing it.

Fuck.

And Joel hadn’t braced for the truth crashing over him like a tidal wave, pulling him beneath the surface. Maybe he has been too afraid to name it, too cowardly to accept it. He doesn't know how to process it, what to do next. He has no idea how you would—

Oh no.

You.

Joel’s eyes frantically flit over to you, desperate to catch the expression on your face. Worry swells in the pit of his stomach. Could you tell what he was about to lay bare? No, he hopes you didn’t. He hopes that he hasn’t messed up what was precious between you and him.

But you’re not looking at him anymore. Your attention veers past him, pointed at someone else.

“Ellie, hi!”

There's that usual lightness to your tone when you speak. You seem to be unaffected, oblivious to Joel's inner turmoil. He releases a breath, relief flooding him. He glances over his shoulder, and standing behind him is Ellie, her head peeking out from the front door. She steps outside, innocently unaware of what she had walked in on.

He goes to clear his throat.

“Sorry, kiddo. What were you—”

Joel doesn't get to finish, interrupted for the second time. As if she forgot about his presence there, Ellie skips past him and launches herself into your arms. She almost knocks you down the porch steps, his hand immediately shooting forward to steady you before that could happen.

Eventually, Ellie frees you from her tight hug. She’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, unable to contain her excitement. “Guess what? I crushed that dumb exam yesterday. I can’t fucking believe it!”

“Ellie, language,” Joel says. He gets ignored, again.

But not by you, though. Your gaze flicks to his, a small, reassuring smile tugging at your lips. It further dims the anxiety that had seized him moments ago.

You then look back at Ellie. “Of course I do. You’re a smart girl, Ellie. Told you a little studying actually helps.”

“Yeah, yeah. Still super boring though,” she mutters, rolling her eyes at how right you are. “Anyway, stables are opening up soon, and you owe me a riding lesson. Thought I’d check to see if you were already up— guess you saved me the trip.”

You let out a gentle snicker. “I did promise you that, didn't I?”

“Yup, you did,” Ellie nods. She turns to Joel, who’s no longer an invisible being to her. She spots the burlap still in his grasp and points to it. “What’s that?”

“Coffee,” he informs simply, and Joel sees the way you bite back a laugh when Ellie instantly grimaces. He then quips, “That’s very offensive.”

“Good, ‘cause it smells and tastes disgusting, bleh!”

“Try tea next time,” you suggest, chuckling.

Ellie’s face doesn’t change. “Even worse. In what world is hot leaf water appealing?”

“Gotta agree with you on that, kiddo,” Joel smirks, earning him a gentle jab in the ribs from you.

“Insult my tea one more time and you’ll never get a taste of coffee again,” you say like a warning, though there’s no real bite to it.

Still, Joel throws his hands up in front of him. A white flag.

“Eugh, enough already. There’s no competition. Both of your drinks are gross,” Ellie mumbles, shaking her head. She moves on. “Sooo, those horse riding lessons this morning. Yes or definitely a yes?”

You look at Joel's way, wordlessly checking with him if it's okay. He doesn't spare a second thinking about it, giving you a slight tip of his head in approval. It's impossible to deny you and Ellie of anything.

"Alright, your first lesson starts today," you tell Ellie. "Do me a favor and put a kettle on so Joel can make his coffee. Just need to talk to him before we can go."

Ellie performs a little salute. “You got it. Joel, my jacket?”

"Upstairs in my room," he reveals, resting his hands on his hips. "Saw a tear in it last night, so I patched it up for you. Go on, check it out after."

Ellie beams at him. She’s quick to give Joel a squeeze around his middle, and he relishes it, knowing these sweet displays of affection from her don't happen often, nor do they last very long.

“Fuck yeah! Be right back!” And then she’s off, dashing back inside the house, not giving him a chance to chide her over her cursing.

As soon as you and Joel are alone, silence settles between the two of you. He pushes down the creeping dread, deferring the talk you mentioned wanting to have with him by keeping the conversation on Ellie.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Joel murmurs, his fingers toying with the frayed strings of the coffee bag he still holds. “Shoulda given you an out back there. If you got your hands full today, I could talk her out of it. Set up a better time for those lessons.”

You give him a faint shake of your head. “It’s okay, now is a good time. She deserves it. School’s been tough on her, but I can see how much she tries.”

“She’s got the best tutor. Pretty sure she prefers you more than her actual teachers.”

“Maybe ‘cause I bribe her with baked goods and sweets every time she does her homework.”

"Don't see anythin' wrong with that. If it works, it works," Joel chuckles, the sound of it slightly hollow, however. His thoughts begin to drift to a distant place, despite his best efforts to resist.

A pause. You tilt your head at him, a crease forming between your brows. “Joel, is everything alr—”

The tight knot in his chest swells at what you're going to ask, but he quickly forces it aside and swallows hard. He cuts you off before you can finish the question.

“—Do you, uh, want a cup?”

Seconds tick by without a single word exchanged. Your gaze softens as it lingers on Joel's, like you're reading a line of unseen words written across his face. He couldn't quite catch the flicker of thought passing through your mind; he's unsure he wants to.

You draw in a sharp breath to speak, but just as before, he deflects.

“I-I can make you a cup. You got me this, so you should have a taste—”

“Joel, I think we should—”

“Why don’t you come inside and—”

“—Look, something’s obviously wrong. Why won’t you—”

"No. Don't," Joel breathes out, his gaze lowering in both shame and fear. The fear of looking into your eyes and witnessing the damage he's caused. He doesn't want to see not even a trace of anger or disappointment in you; he knows he won't be able to take it. That it would be like a jagged blade thrusted into his fragile heart.

God, why is he so damn scared? Instead of facing the truth, he chooses to run and hide, leaving you in the dark when he should be standing right there, right next to you.

It’s the risks. The consequences.

The aftermath of those words could ultimately bring.

Everything would change, Joel knows it will. And he can't help but envision the worst that could happen. That his luck would eventually run out.

He’ll fall short. He’s not as strong as you think he is. It’s obvious right now when he’s too scared of being honest with you. Too scared of making this real.

Even with time, Joel would stay scarred. Too broken to hold something so tender in his hands. Hands that have committed sins in the past, never to be thoroughly washed off, no matter how much good he's done as of late.

You’ll realize you deserve better, you’ll find better, and he won't blame you.

“Joel, look at me. Please.”

Your voice, quiet and small, slips through the cracks in his mind, pulling him away from the heavy thoughts he burdens himself with. He doesn’t move, just stands there with an arm leaning against a column, as if trying to keep himself upright.

A soft hand rests under his chin, and he releases a shaky sigh when you tip it up slightly to find his eyes. Joel holds his breath, bracing himself for the eventual sting when you catch them.

But when you do, no hurt comes. There’s no hardness beneath your gaze. Just a calmness, a gentle understanding.

Your eyes don’t press Joel for an explanation, simply offering a refuge from his restless mind. You’ve spent enough time with him to know when he would get lost in a quiet spiral. And like all those other times, you reach a hand out for him to take, to hold.

He does, and all the noise in his head dulls into the faintest hum.

“You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to. I get it, it’s okay,” you reassure Joel softly, the squeeze on his hand anchoring him to the present.

A minute comes and goes. Then a low rasp: “I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you say, offering him a smile that manages to take a slight heaviness off his chest. “We’ll pretend it never happened.”

Joel could only nod in response. Part of him is grateful to be able to move on from this. To pretend, to forget. But he can’t escape the ache that lingers like a ghost haunting his heart.

“Ellie will be back in a sec. How ‘bout coming with us to the stables? Make me that cup of coffee along with yours, and we can take them to go.”

Joel shrugs his shoulders, which carry the weight of the unknown. He's not sure if he can trust himself around you at the moment. Doesn't want to make yet another wrong move with you. "You sure? I-I got… stuff to do. Gotta check the bathroom sink, faucet's been kinda leakin' and—"

"No, don't," you whisper, echoing his words earlier, though yours is much gentler. "You don't have to hide yourself away. We're friends, aren't we?"

Friends.

Yes.

That you two are, Joel is reminded of. And friends don't fall for each other, do they?

Pretend and forget. Joel's done that before to survive. Pushed down all his grief and guilt to keep himself going. He would bury his love for you just as easily, anything to avoid the raw intensity that he doesn't know what to do with, which terrifies him.

“Friends,” Joel repeats in a murmur. He pulls his gaze away from yours once more, but settles it this time on the warm, steady hands that hold his. “Don’t have too much of those.”

You hum quietly, thumb tracing over his knuckles. “Well, at least you’ve got me.”

Joel smiles softly at that. Stillness descends once more, but no longer does it thrum with thick tension. It doesn't swallow him up whole, unlike before. No, not when you’re there tethering him to the ground beneath his feet.

He has you, and perhaps that’s just enough. What you already have is good. It's safe and easy. He's content with it. Truly. He doesn’t need to chase after something more, something that’s unpredictable.

Because that’s what love is to Joel—it’s a gamble. It demands pieces of him, only to offer uncertainty in return.

"Yeah. Yeah I do," he sighs in agreement. “Head on inside, let’s go make you that coffee.”

you're more than willing to help out, but it's uncommon for him to do something like this. "ah? okay!" you respond with just the slightest lift to your voice, hoping you don't come off too eager but also not uninterested, which he probably wouldn't care about but you absolutely do (as someone who very often gets tested).

you give the door a light knock before entering, and you see jooyeon with his eyes shut, head laid back against the rim of the tub and a sea of bubbles surrounding him. you giggle at the sight, unable to hold back the laughter. he doesn't open his eyes to look at you but the slight quirk of his lips at the sound of your laughter lets you know he's paying attention.

"you look relaxed. do you like the bubble mix i got you?" you grin at him, happy that he's using your gift well.

"mm," he sighs, "warm. feels nice. smells good."

as you approach, you sit beside the tub on the stool you have for when you can't reach the top shelf of the medicine cabinet. your bathroom is by no means nice—perhaps the best thing about it is the deepness of the tub—but if it could serve jooyeon's aching body well, so be it. you could find ways to make it as spa like as you could, just for him.

"good, i'm glad," your voice goes soft as you watch him soak in the warm bubble bath. laying your head down against the side of the tub, you smile fondly. when he's like this, his features free of any stress or fatigue, he looks more boyish than ever. it makes it all the more obvious to you just how much he's been carrying on his shoulders everyday. it may not be his most polished look but you love his slightly chapped lips and unkempt eyebrows, strands of his long hair damp and curling around his forehead. the suds from the bubble mix slightly obscure the moles peppering his collarbone and chest that you think are adorable. there's a lively color to his cheeks as the heat rises up from the water, and you can't help but feel like you did a good job preparing this for him. even through the steam you can tell he's enjoying himself, "you deserve it the most, baby," you coo at him, sounding a bit silly with how you've squished your cheek against the tub.

he only bothers to pry his eyes open and lazily squint at you when he hears you get closer, and gives you a dreamy, toothy smile. you can tell he's tired because he doesn't try and kiss you as a greeting like he always does when you get even the slightest bit close to him. "thank you, y/n. this is so freakin' awesome," his usual boyish vernacular always seeps through somehow.

you snicker at him softly in agreement. as you look upon his figure, you're reminded of something else you could do for him.

"do you want help? i can wash your hair for you," you take the chance to reach out and brush some of the hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear as if that would do anhthing—its the thought that counts. you just like to touch him when you can.

"mm," he hums as he leans into your touch, "but you already did all this for me already. i know you're tired too, it's been a long day."

"you're kidding," you pout at him, tapping him lightly on the nose in protest, "you just got back from tour and i haven't seen you i weeks. let me pamper you! and, i know your shoulders have been aching. so no 'buts'." you try your best to scrunch your eyebrows and nose, but you know how silly it looks to pretend and be strict with him.

"okay, okay," he lets out a raspy laugh watching how you're already reaching for your plethora of nicely scented hair care products. he knows how stubborn you can be when you've set your mind on something, and even more so when it comes to his wellbeing.

you tap on his damp shoulder to signal him to flip around, and he does so with no objection.

this part comes easily to you. you begin by turning the handle on the detachable shower head and begin soaking his hair with warm water, gently running your fingers through it. you make sure to avoid getting it in his eyes. you think it's cute that he still shuts his eyes with all his might instead of just closing them normally as if it negates the risk of getting water there any more than usual.

then, when you're finished, you try and replicate all the head spa videos you watch on youtube by rubbing the soap between your palms to create a lather before massaging it into his scalp. you take special care in how and where you soak the soap through his hair, trying to make it as slow, thorough, and relaxing as possible. your hand movements, after a certain point, begin to gain a rhythm, your only intention to get him to relax. the only sound in the room for a bit is the subtle sound of soap suds being gently scrubbed with your nails.

"joo?" you ask softly, wondering how he's doing. you've taken his silence as a signal you're doing well, and from your angle you can see how his shoulders droop with ease from the lack of tension.

you get another hmm in response.

"whatcha thinkin' about?" you make some light conversation with him as your hands press even deeper into his skin, trying to work out all the knots in his neck and shoulder area.

"mostly just trying not to fall asleep," he smiles sleepily, "and also that i like you a lot." the loving tone of his voice makes you want to melt. with the way he normally is as a spirited, cheerful guy (what is otherwise known as 'being loud as hell), you take these moments of softness with him to heart.

"that's good to know." you nod in agreement, still working your hands. you're so focused you don't even stop to think about how your arms are beginning to ache, "i happen to like you a lot too,"

"wow, 'a lot'? i'm flattered, really," he jokes with you, but the sarcastic bite he's going for falls flat with how drowsy he's beginning to sound. at this signal, you wrap up your massage, and with another pass of the shower head, his hair is clean.

you smile at your work, resting your hands on the curve of his shoulder between the neck, "there! all done."

his dark brown eyes turn up to look at you, and you just have to admire how blissful he looks with that cute grin that shows off his slight snaggletooth. "felt nice," is all he chooses to say. you giggle wholeheartedly and give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

"okay! soak as long as you want. i'll go clean up and get ready for bed, too." you prepare to stand up and let him be, but then with a swish of the water and bubbles on his hands, he grabs your forearm before you can get up.

"you're going?" his eyes are so puppy-like you find it hard not to clutch at your chest with how much it makes you feel. he's turned to face you now, the upper half of his body now leaning against the side of the tub, one hand propped against the rim and the other gracefully moving to interlock his fingers with yours. whatever energy he had left in him, you really didn't know where he managed to find it.

teasingly, you scoff but make no move to let go of him, "you'll have me all night, joo, i promise. or can you really not stand to be without me for a few minutes anymore?"

"yup, exactly that," he replies so immediately and nonchalantly that you feel the urge to poke him in the nose again, "oh! if i get out now, can you help me dry off?"

"like, your hair? or, like ... all of you," you raise your brow at him quizzically, trying not to smirk with the implications you're hinting at.

"i meant my hair, weirdo," he laughs, but then gives you a serious look and a wiggle of his eyebrows that makes you want to cringe but also kiss him at the same time, "but that could definitely be arranged,"

snickering at the madness that comes out of his mouth, you can't help but fall in love with him even more, "oh my god you're such a dork," you meet his expectant brown eyes that make you hesitant to ever say no to him, "i mean, if you really want me too—"

that's all it takes for him to immediately errupt in a cheer like he's gotten a birthday gift, and tries to get out of the tub, in which you shriek and try to both find a towel for him and cover your eyes at the same time.

... you cherish these moments just as much as the rest.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

notes: hi guys! trying to ease myself back into the swing of writing since i miss the community here a bunch ;; it's crazy how easy it is for me to write jooyeon compared to anyone else lol. i hope this was coherent and someone enjoyed in the least!!! 😭 i hope you're all doing well! take care of yourselves in the upcoming summer heat 💗

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"Jongseob??", you called out to make your presence known but there was no reply.

The lights in his apartment were turned off except for the ones in his studio , dimmed purple light shining through the small space between the door and floor. You could only sigh, 'what an Idiot' , you thought to yourself as you took your shoes off and hung the keys up on the small keyholder you had gifted him when he first moved in so he wouldn't lose his keys. The sound of a track playing could be heard faintly , his voice following as he rapped the verse — faint clicking noises followed as his voice stopped along with the sounds of his mouse clicking.

You opened the door to his studio , sighing once again as you spotted his back hunched over , eyes glued to the screen as he had his headphones on — one hand reaching to adjust his mic a bit while his other hand reached over to an energy can , his adams apple bobbing up and down as he drank from it. This was a pure disaster , the amount of empty energy cans placed on the surface of his desk was concerning. "You're going to get a cardiac arrest with the amount of energy drinks you've been drinking", the blonde haired boy jumped and almost choked on his drink , coughing violently to catch his breath again. "Jesus , (Y/n), you scared the living shit out of me", Jongseob exclaimed as he turned to look at you with wide eyes, a hand on his chest to calm his racing heart down.

"Not my fault you didn't hear me when I called out for you", you replied to him in a blunt tone , your eyes rolling a bit as you shook your head in a disapproving way to which he could only smile sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah... you know how I can get once I'm in the zone", he responded back , rolling his chair a bit away from his desk to fully turn and look at you. The eyebags he had were visible , his blinking slow as he was fighting against the feeling of tiredness he was feeling , blonde hair all messed up from the countless times he had ruffled his hair.

"Yeah , once you're in the zone you forget that you're a Human and not some kind of machine. Jesus Christ, Jongseob, when was the last time you actually slept — and I don't mean naps with that!", walking towards him , you couldn't hide the worry written on your face — even if you would have tried to hide it , he would've still seen it, he just knows you too well. "Well.... look , I will go to sleep once I've gotten the lyrics right", you could only stare at him in disbelief , shaking your head as you wrapped your hand around his wrist and pulling him up , his body not even resisting as it was almost like an empty shell. He made a small "oof" sound as you walked him over to his worn out couch and pushed him onto it to make him sit down in something more comfortable than the chair he was sitting in.

"You're overworking yourself, your brain can't work if you don't let it rest", you scolded as you sat down next to him , continuing your little ramble on how he couldn't do this to himself and that he needed breaks and proper meals instead of instant noodles and energy drinks — your breath hitching as he suddenly reached his hand out , cupping the side of your face to get your attention with that lazy smirk of his on his face. "You worry too much (Y/n)... it's kind of cute", he commented with a quiet chuckle , letting the image of your flustered reaction burn into his brain before you composed yourself.

"Jongseob I'm serious! I'm really worried about you , you're literally destroying yourself. You can't continue like this or else I'll have no other choice but to move in with you just so you won't freaking die on overworking yourself. For fucks sake , Seob, you haven't replied to me in like days and have only been living off of instant noodles because you've been working non stop. I get that it's your passion but that doesn't mean nor validate to neglect your own well being", your eyebrows were furrowed as you looked at him , a small sigh coming from him as he nodded his head — he knew you were right but he couldn't seem to get himself to stop working even if he wanted to.

"I know... and I know you're right but that's just.... how I get, okay? Once I start , it's like everything around me disappears and I'm stuck in that loop that I'll only break free from once I'm done... Maybe you do need to move in with me, I wouldn't be opposed to it?", even if his explanation were serious , his last words were half serious and half joking — he wished you lived with him but he'd never dare to say that , you were his best friend , he can't cross that line. "No , maybe I actually do need to. I just... I don't want you to burn yourself out and possibly lose your passion. I know how much you love music and creating music , but you just keep overworking yourself... it's worrying me .. a lot", your eyes looking down to your lap as your words grew quieter and quieter until they turned into a whisper, the beat of his track still playing in the background — he knows that you only meant well... and for some reason , even if it may be bad, he couldn't stop his heart from swelling for the care you carried for him.

He tapped your cheek with the side of his finger to get you to look at him again before pulling you in a gentle hug , his chin resting on your shoulder as he practically melted into your arms as soon as you wrapped yours around him — god did he needed that hug. "I'm sorry for worrying you... I'll try to change, okay? You're right , I know you are ..... I'll try to change my habits", he spoke up after a couple seconds of silence, his voice low and relaxed — you could never get tired of the way he spoke , hearing him talk was always so soothing to you.

He pulled away from the hug — although , keeping his hands on you while his eyes looked at yours , he couldn't look away. He never realized how good you looked with the purple light of his LED's shining on you , they made you look...so kissable for some reason , more than usual. Maybe it was the fact that he hasn't slept much , but he was feeling bold and confident — the way you looked at him... all sad puppy eyed with your bottom lip slightly jutted out, eyebrows furrowed in worry. God did he want nothing more in this world but to kiss you, he always felt like that but never did as he was afraid that he was misreading the signs and would overstep the line.

But in that moment, he didn't care, all that mattered to him right in that exact moment was you. He licked his lips a little as they had gotten dry , his eyes still focused on yours as his face slowly neared yours , the blonde strands of hair that were sticking out tickling your face a little as he was so close now that his breath was fanning your lips. You felt hot , your cheeks burning as you could only watch as he leaned in closer until the tip of his nose brushed against yours , heart hammering against your chest with your mouth running dry. Was this really happening? Your hands unconsciously balled up the fabric of his hoodie as your eyes were glued to his, watching the way the two beautiful orbs glanced down at your lips before going back up to your eyes.

You slowly also started to lean in without realizing , the two of you hitching as your lips lightly brushed against each other — so light that it felt like a feather. He gulped quietly , his breath shaking as his right hand slowly tucked stray strands of your hair behind your eat to brush them out of your face before he decided , fuck it let's go for it, his lips hesitantly meeting yours in a short peck — his eyes roaming your face to see any kind of unease but there wasn't any. Instead , he was met with your eyes closing as you leaned in again and pressed your lips against his for, holding the kiss for a couple seconds before pulling away but — his left hand on the back of your head prevented you from doing so , leaving only a couple milliseconds of your lips apart from his before they were back against each other.

The kiss was slow , almost lazy yet very enjoyable — he was clearly tired with the way his lips lazily moved against yours , yet not too tired to show the love he held for you. Parting his lips, he deepened the kiss slowly with his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. The kiss was magical , so tender even if it was a bit clumsy or lazy — it left you wanting more kisses with a tingling sensation on your lips.

Soon , he broke the kiss , pupils blown wide as he could only lovingly gaze at you — he could still feel your lips against his , a subtle pink flush decorating his cheeks although it wasn't visible due to the purple light. "I....I'm sorry (Y/n) I just....", he tried to find the words but was interrupted by you shushing him softly , a dorky smile on your face as you placed your index finger against his lips to stop him from speaking. "Let's talk about this tomorrow... I think the signs were pretty clear enough . Let's get you to sleep first , you need it", he nodded his head like the lovestruck puppy he was , letting you once again pull him up before saving what he was working on and turning off his pc and led lights before bringing him to his bedroom.

"Stay with me...", Jongseob said as he grabbed your wrist as you were about to leave , holding his blanket up so you could join him underneath it and stay for the night, he wanted to fall asleep with you in his arms. Your confused expression turned into a fond smile as you nodded your head and took your jacket off, throwing it somewhere on his bedroom floor before joining him on his bed — his arms immediately wrapping around your waist to pull your back against his chest with his face buried into the crook of his neck , letting out a sleepy sigh as he held you close to him before falling asleep in just a matter of seconds.

Harvey still couldn’t wrap his head around it. It seemed surreal to wake up everyday at the farmer’s side - at his partner’s side. To make them breakfast and dinner, and kiss them slow and soft. To feel their touch on his stomach and sides, tangling in his hair, drawing him closer and closer. All of it. How was it all reserved for him?

When they’d shown up to the clinic one day with a piping hot coffee for him, he brushed it off. One gift from someone who seemed to take great pleasure in pleasing everyone about town; nothing to overthink there.

But then it kept happening.

Coffee and pickles, twice every week like clockwork. They’d show up carrying something he enjoyed (even just a flower from the ground), set it on the counter with a smile and some small talk, and head off. If Maru was there, they’d hand her something she could use in her tinkering, and she never stopped them from heading in the back to pass on their goods if he was busy prepping the exam room.

He wasn’t exactly sure how long before he began to expect the visits, the gifts, the small talk. Maybe a few weeks, maybe a full season. Nor how long before the small talk drifted into light chatter about their interests and the goings-on of their lives. Or how much longer still before seeing them made his heart leap into his throat. Before he didn’t feel embarrassed to gush to them about getting in contact with a plane that flew overhead a few days ago.

Really he shouldn’t have been so surprised when they sought him out on one of his walks and produced a bouquet from behind their back. Or when they found him under the tree by the river, and held out a gleaming blue shell on a string. But he was.

He wasn’t blind to the obvious; he’d resigned himself to being a forever-bachelor long ago, perhaps even before he moved into town. There seemed to be a mountain of things against him. His age, for one. And being the town’s only doctor left some breaches of patient-doctor relationships. But he couldn’t deny how relieved he was that day, when he slipped the pendant over his head and they pulled him in for a kiss. The overwhelming, full-body realization that he wasn’t relegated to being a bachelor forever.

It still struck him sometimes, just how much he never expected it to happen. When he woke up in the morning to a warm body pressed against his. When he woke up late to a hot pot of coffee and his mug right by it. When he’d close up the clinic and realize he locked himself inside, as though he’d be sleeping upstairs in his apartment.

He never anticipated ever waking up to someone like that. Or having their care continue to persist after they’ve seemed to get everything they wanted out of him. Or being so ready to sleep alone, above his workplace, with a pitiful microwave dinner.

And they were… amazing. The first time he ordered a model plane to their house, he’d been wracked with a terrible nervous energy. The farmer had brought it in from the mailbox, wondering what he ordered as they set it on the table. He’d flushed and stammered about the plane, promising to keep it in his little sideroom. It was a hobby for the weird kids who sat out of playing games during recess. He really should have just sent it to his apartment and-

And then they grabbed his face. With the warmest smile he’d seen since their wedding. They didn’t have much to do on the farm that day, so they said if he’d let them, they’d love to help make it with him.

And all at once he felt silly for ever worrying about it.

He’d chuckled like all the air had been punched out of his lungs, and he offered to help them with their work, so they could get to making it even faster. He never imagined helping someone milk cows and water crops could feel so fulfilling.

The plane sat proudly on his table with the radio. Every rainy day when he checked in for a call, all the weather details ready to recite to the pilot, he looked over at it. Sure, the paint was a bit uneven and inaccurate. And the wing was glued down a little crooked. But it was perfect. The best damn plane he’d ever seen.