#pintobugwrites

Your fingers hurt with how hard you're pushing them into the countertop. You look at your Dad, still rambling. The whooshing of blood between your ears builds and you try to silence it by focusing on his lips. They curved around his next words so innocent and unknowing. It makes you want to spill your guts onto the counter.

“Yeah, kid! Joel Miller. Known him for years- he's good people. Used to work with him every day when I did that big commercial project a few years ago. Did some tile work there, even brought his brother along with him the days we needed some extra hands. Hell, he’s been on a few jobs with me since then. Bring him on specifically if I know it’ll be a big one,”

“Do you still talk to him?” It doesn't even sound like your voice when it leaves your lips. 

It's muted and pathetic. You feel dizzy. Not the dizzy Joel made you feel. In a way that you're sure you're losing the color in your face.

Do you tell him?

Do you tell Joel?

“Every now and then, yeah. He keeps to himself. Quiet. Solid worker though. Don't know what the hell he's doing in maintenance, but that's Joel. Likes laying low. He’ll die standin’ up, he’s hard headed like that. One of those guys who always says less than he knows, but when he says something? You listen.”

You swallow hard.

You’ve been aching to learn more about Joel since he closed the door behind him. The last thing you wanted was your Dad being the one to fill you in.

“I can see that.”

He doesn't notice your stunned silence. He continues to walk around, even sits with you on your couch for a while and tells you about work. You nod and hum, smile when it's needed. You're not paying attention though.

He's your Dads friend. He has no idea who you are.

Did he lie? Does he know who you are?

“Alright, kid. I'll get outta your hair.” He says, clasping a hand on your shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

You both stand. You follow him to the door with a forced smile. 

“Hey, if you see Joel again, tell him I say hey. Maybe I’ll catch him sometime.”

He's so blissfully unaware of the bomb he just dropped.

You nod your head and thank him, giving him a hug. 

You're standing in silence by your door again. This time for a very different reason. Your heart is in your throat, fingers numb. You let him in, you touched him. He touched you. He is your dads friend. Your dad.

He can't know. He would've said something. He wouldn't have touched me if he did. 

Would you have touched him if you knew?

You start pacing in your living room, hand over your mouth. You need to see him. You need to ask if he knows. No- you can't ask. If you ask, it ruins the chance of it happening again. Will it happen again after you tell him? But what if he finds out? 

You need to see Joel. The desire is physical. Your skin aches and your chest is tight.

He has to know now. He has to. And if he didn't before, he will soon.

But then what?

Late that night you sat at your desk, his Facebook profile on your laptop, mouse hovering over the ‘Add Friend’ button for at least an hour. The skin around your nails picked raw. You can't friend him on here, that's insane. He's going to think you're crazy, and then you're gonna drop an insane bomb on him and it will scare him away. You take a deep breath. You need to think this over, you need to be careful.

You feel physically ill. The feeling has been sitting heavy in your chest since your dad left days ago. It's been almost a week since Joel kissed you in your room. It doesn't help that you're alone. You're doing what you can to distract yourself. Applying to jobs, taking walks, reading and bingeing some old horror movies. But no matter what you're doing you catch yourself imagining Joel doing them with you. You imagine he's laid into the couch with you, big hands skating up and down your legs. Or he's walking beside you under the shady trees.

It's wrong to think like that now, he's your dads friend, you have to keep reminding yourself. Joel hasn't contacted you. You don't even think he has a way. 

You’re grateful when Ellie calls you, breaking the internal back and forth you've had going on for the past few days. She facetimes you.

“Heyyyyy.” Ellie's voice rings through the living room for the first time in over a week.

You smile widely when you see her face. Her freckles are prominent. This is probably the longest she's spent in the sun in some time.

“Hey! How is it there?” You say, holding your phone up so she can see your face.

“It's great, honestly. Wait- lemme show you this.” She grunts while getting up, you assume.

The camera is shaky and Ellie is cropped pretty much fully out of the screen. You can see the sky, it's a beautiful shade of blue and there are no clouds in the frame.

The opposite of here, you think. There has been a dark, angry cloud hanging since you woke up this morning. It even smelled like it was going to rain.

“Dina!” You hear Ellie shout.

“Wait a second I’m gonna get Dina to show you.” Ellie peers down to her phone briefly, cueing you into what's going on in Montana.

You laugh and nod your head even though she's not looking.

Suddenly Dina’s face comes into frame. 

“I can't believe you’re alive after the other night.” Dina laughs and you laugh with her.

“Me either, to be honest, it was bad.”

Ellie shifts the phone so you're looking at her now, her brows are furrowed and eyes squinted, the bright sun warming her face.

“Ready to see this? Fuckin’ nuts.” Ellie raises her eyebrows.

“Yesss. I’m ready.” You say. 

Ellie flips the camera and your jaw drops.

There's sheep.

A lot of them.

Standing and grazing, strolling and some were walking around, overlapped bleatings spilling out of your phones speaker.

“What the fuck?” You say, in awe.

You hear Dina and Ellie laugh on the other end.

“I knew her family had a farm but this is fucking nuts, right?!” Ellie shouts, out of view.

Ellie walks around, sheep around her hips, Dina coming into frame every now and then as Ellie shows off the farm life.

“Dina, how did you not tell me this before?” You gawk.

There has to be a hundred of them if not more.

“Don’t know. This is what I grew up with, just slips my mind that people find it so fascinating sometimes.” She says lightly and chuckles.

Ellie flips the camera back to her face and angles the camera high, holding it sideways. She squints one eye and looks into the camera with a wide smile.

“Sick, right? Got me a cowgirl.” Ellie muses and you see Dina’s hand push her shoulder in the corner of the frame.

You laugh.

It is beautiful. 

You are beyond happy for Ellie. She met Dina in the start of sophomore year and they have been inseparable ever since. Dina is a good contrast to Ellie. Keeps her in line and focused on the important shit that Ellie sometimes lets slip through the cracks.

“Aw, fuck. Am I frozen? Can you hear me?”  Ellie mutters while pulling the camera close to her face, her brows drawn together in concentration.

You shake your head.

“I can hear you, sorry.” You smile at her pinched up face.

“Oh okay. What have you been up to? Has the dryer been fine since that guy came to fix it?” Ellie asks, you can hear hay crunching under her feet, the creaking of a porch door and suddenly she's inside. 

That guy.

You let out a soft sigh, stomach twisting at the thought of Joel, your Dads friend. Clearly you don’t hide your emotions well because Ellie doesn’t let you respond.

“Aw, fuck. What happened?” She sighs, propping her phone up as she bops around the kitchen.

“No- nothing. Nothing happened. The dryer is fine. I told you about the light bulb, he came and replaced it last week. Everything has been good.” That's a lie. 

Nothing has been good. Your mind is constantly racing, your chest is heavy and your stomach is queasy. You want to unload everything onto Ellie, but you hesitate. 

Are you in the wrong? 

You made out with your Dads friend and didn’t tell either of them. 

You didn’t know at that point though. It feels wrong because you want to do more than that. 

Would Ellie think it's gross? 

Is it gross that you find him attractive? 

No. 

You don’t want to think like that. Gross is the last word that comes to your mind when you think of Joel. Joel is handsome. You don’t think you’ve seen a man quite as handsome as him. He’d look good in anything. 

Ellie pauses and looks at you through the phone for a moment before shrugging her shoulders.

“Well. Whatever it is, you’re not hiding it well. I’ll be home in no time. Maybe I can sneak one of these sheep on the plane. We can keep it.” Ellie gets close to the camera and smiles widely. 

You and Ellie continue to facetime for sometime. She tells you about handling the farm and finally meeting Dina’s extended family. Her parents have come to visit a few times and would come around. They were kind, gentle people. You know where Dina gets it from. Ellie tells you about the barn cat that lives there, how Dina’s sister begs it to come in the house every night, and it refuses- won’t even pass the threshold of the porch. You’d much rather have the life of a barn cat right now. Coming and going as you please, prancing through tall grass and pestering sheep as the days pass by. Having someone beg you to come be safe and warm in their hold. 

The sky is dark by the time Ellie says her goodbye. The dark lingering cloud from earlier has spread, soaking up every inch of blue that tried to peek through. You walked a loop around the house, making sure all of the windows are shut and locked. Last thing you need is rainwater seeping in.

When it comes, it comes fast. Fat, heavy droplets hit the cement, soaking it through. You stand by the large bay window, curtains drawn back to watch. Puddles forming in the streets and in the patches of grass by the sidewalk. You see lightning in the distance and a low thunder rumbles a few seconds later. Wind blows the trees and its leaves scatter, twisting through the air to smack wetly into whatever surface it's being thrown into. 

You leave the curtain open and settle yourself on the couch, curling up with a blanket. You snatch up the remote and search through movies on streaming apps until you settle on Pet Sematary. You love this movie and its perfect vibes for stormy nights. A comfort movie. That's what you needed after the week of inner rambling.

The lightning gets more frequent, thunder gets louder. This is bliss. Your head is empty for the first time in a week. Quiet, despite the shattering thunder and heavy rain outside. No sweating over job applications and their lack of responses. You’re pushing your internal struggle to the side to enjoy some movies in the comfy atmosphere. 

Enjoying it is an understatement. You are lulled to sleep by the thud of rain against the outside of the house, the occasional flicker of lightning filling the room for a split second and illuminating all that is inside. A particularly loud pang of thunder jolts you out of your sleep state. You gasp and clutch a fist to your heaving chest. It takes a moment for you to regain your bearings. You rub your tired eyes and stretch out of the couch.

An earth shattering boom steals all the breath in your lungs. A mechanical whir sounds before every light in your living room clicks off.

“Fucking-” The bright ball of orange barely visible over the top of the building outside your window catches your attention.

TV is off, overhead lights, the fan in the living room. All of it is off. Transformer blown. Great. You whine softly and pull your phone from your hoodie pocket and click the flashlight on, sighing in relief that you have a decent amount of battery left. You go around and turn all of the lightswitches that were on, off. Something your Dad always told you to do, and it stuck. While you do that you gather all of the candles you see, silently thanking Ellie for keeping so many from her dorm room. You’ve collected nearly ten of them, scattered them around the living room. On the TV stand, the coffee table, windowsill and the rest were scattered on the floor. The room was glowing in flickering orangey, red light. It felt cozy. 

You settle yourself back into the corner of the couch once you're content with the ample lighting from the candles. All of the smells mix together to make something comforting even though you can't put your finger on it. You tuck your bare legs inside your hoodie, balling up and tugging the throw blanket over yourself. You keep the curtains drawn on the bay window and you shuffle to face them, heavy lidded eyes boring out into the monsoon.

The thunder roared closer and closer together, each time it jolted your eyes open in surprise. The vibration of your phone catching you off guard. It was just a photo from Ellie. A picture of her and Dina with the beautiful blue sky you saw earlier on her facetime call. You quickly snap a picture of your current situation, the stark contrast in the skies alone was comical. Before you can press send three consecutive bangs make your heart jump. You’re sitting up straight, eyes wide. That wasn’t thunder. You’ve heard that before but theres no fucking way. You quickly stand, bare feet padding on the hardwood floor. You’re aware of the chill in the air when your bare legs are exposed from their warm spot under your hoodie and the blanket not long ago. You approach the door and crack it. The red emergency light is casting shadows onto the figure in front of you while you swallow the lump in your throat.

Joel?

The past two times he's been here the sun has been illuminating his golden features. You open the door widen, your lips parted in awe, or disbelief, you can't tell which one right now as you take him in.

Joel Miller.

At your door right now, dripping and sputtering rain water off of his beautiful lips when he speaks up.

“M’truck stalled ‘bout a block out. My wipers were losin’ the fight anyways. Couldn’t see a damn thing. Didn’t know where else to go to wait it out.” He projects his voice over the loud rainfall and rumbles in the sky.

“You’re soaked.” Is all you can spit out.

He nods his head, the rain soaking his hair a darker color and plastering thick strands of curls to his face. Common sense smacks you in the face as you stand there dry and he’s continuously getting beat on by rain.

“Come in.” You blurt out and back up, allowing him space to walk into the entryway.

“Y’don’t mind?” He says while ducking in looking sheepish.

“Y-You can come in. It's not like I have electricity to offer but-”

“Dark and dry is better than soaked n’ blind on the road.”

You close the door behind him, the wind chilling you to the bone. You shiver as you lock it up. You take a step back and take him in. Standing in your entryway, his dark t-shirt soaked even darker and clinging to his skin. You’re jealous of it. Fat drops of rain slide down the curves of his curls and drip down the sides of his face. They roll from his temple and down his strong jaw, getting muddled in his beard hairs. Roll from the curls tucked behind his ear, down the thick vein in his neck and pool at his collar before slowly being absorbed into the fabric. You swallow hard to prevent yourself from drooling.

Joel stands there in silence, soaked through. His eyes adjust to the warmth of the candle light, adoring the way it flickers across your soft features. You look comfortable, big hoodie hanging from your frame, bare legs on display again. He takes an extra second to let his eyes linger at the curve of your thighs, where his hand was merely a week ago. He remembers how soft, plush and warm they were. He’s getting carried away, he needs to stop. He pulls his attention away from the exposed skin and settles them onto your face again. Your eyes look tired, a pang of guilt hits deep in his chest, did he wake you? His brows start to saddle together before you yip quietly. He’s been dripping onto the tile, a decent sized puddle forming around him, the cold water spreading and finally making contact with your foot. It pulled you both out of the trance you seemed to be in. He looks down to see just that.

“I’m sorry-”

“I’m gonna get you a towel.” 

You both speak over each other. You don't acknowledge his apology, there's nothing for him to apologize for, it should be you. You can't imagine how cold he must be if you got goosebumps from that one gust of wind. Joel is soaked to the bone.

You make quick work of the stairs, grabbing a handful of towels, making sure there's enough for him, and enough to soak up the puddle on the floor. Just as quick as you went up, you came back down, shoving the fluffy bath towels to his chest. His wet fingers brush yours and the way your body jolts doesn't go unnoticed by Joel. You seem twitchy and guarded. He feels shameful, is it because he almost laid you down on your bed before getting up and practically running out of there? Or was it because he did that and then had zero contact with you since then. The latter. No shit, Joel.

“Thank you.” 

Joel kicks off his boots and peels off his soggy socks, drying himself with the towels you so generously provided. You stand in the living room and watch, practically gawking. He tosses the towel over his head and brings his hands up to scruff up his hair underneath. He pulls the towel off and runs his thick hands through his wet, messy hair.

Fuck, it looks beautiful. Is this what he looks like after a shower? Beautiful curls slicked back from a push of his hand, coiling at the back of his neck. Smaller curls falling around his temples as they broke loose from larger chunks. He holds that towel over his forearm, stepping back as you take the other to sop up the puddle between the two of you. You fold it and leave it next to the door, picking up his boots carefully and setting them on top of the folded towel. You stand up straight and brush your hands on your hoodie. 

Joel is watching you move. He realized within the past week he hadn’t taken enough time to study you the short times he was here. Or maybe the way you looked at him while kneeling on your bed was just so significant he couldn’t remember anything else while he’d touch himself in bed at night. His heart skips a beat at the thought. 

Do you feel the same way? Are you lying in bed at night, hand between your thighs because you can’t get him out of your head? Or is he stuck in a fantasy world? Maybe he should just ask. But he doesn’t want to scare you away.

 He has to give himself a reality check. The last words you spoke to him before he left last week was reassuring him that you wanted that, too. It didn't feel real to him. Too precious, careful and beautiful. The way your face is hidden behind your hair as you bend over, your delicate hand coming to tuck a lock behind your ear. So soft. He did that the last time he was here. The way you carefully pick up his boots and place them down without a noise. He flexes his fingers not realizing that he was making a fist so tight that his blunt nails left indents in the fleshy heel of his palm.

“You’re still all wet.” You speak up finally, frowning at him.

Fuck, theres that face again. That face makes his chest throb. He wants to cup your rosy cheeks in his big hands and plant his lips right on that pout.

Joel shrugs his shoulders. “S’okay. Better than before.”

He is proud of himself for keeping his cool as far as his exterior goes.

“Actually, our dryer works now, thanks to you. I can toss them in there if you’d like.” You offer, neither of you have moved yet.

Both of you standing still, a few feet apart. You feel like he’s holding something back. The tension is thick and you want to climb him like a tree right now but you need to remind yourself what this past week has been like for you. Making yourself so stressed over a simple make out because he knows your Dad. You need to hold yourself together at least until you tell him. He’s standing here- wet and real and quiet- and he doesn’t know you’re your fathers daughter.

He chuckles and nods his head once before realization settles over him.

“I don’t have nothin’ to change into. Don’t think your lil’ shirts would fit me. Also, don’t know if you remember, but the power is out. I’m good at fixin’ but not good enough that the dryer would start workin’ with no power, sweetheart.” He says and his lips twitch like he's holding back a smile.

His shoulders relax as he breathes out. Your stomach tightens at his comment. The lil’ shirt you wore for him last week. The too tight one that showed just a little bit of your tummy? 

Joel is talking about that little black shirt and he doesn’t miss the look on your face when you piece that together. He has a feeling you put that on just for him the other day. It hugged your torso beautifully. But Joel's favorite part of that shirt wasn't the way it settled on your skin, but rather the places it didn't. The neck of it swooped to show off your cleavage- don’t get it twisted but that part that really does his knees in was the bit of your tummy that was showing. That sliver of skin was enough to keep him going this past week. He desperately wanted his hands there again, tracing aimlessly or sprawling his broad palms there.

You swallow down the lump in your throat, holding your hands together in front of you and squeezing the absolutely living shit out of them to keep yourself from reaching out and grabbing him.

“I’ve got something of Jesse’s. I’ll be back.” You were quick with your words and even quicker to run up the steps.

Jesse? 

Who the fuck is Jesse?

He knows your roommate is Ellie, that's who placed the first work order. Wait, he's heard you mutter that name before, right before he carried your dresser upstairs. This Jesse told you he wouldn't be able to come and help you move the dresser until later, Joel didn't stop to ask the question then, he just wanted to help you. Wouldn't you stop him from kissing you if you had a boyfriend?

Woah now- Don’t jump to conclusions, he's nervous and getting himself all twisted over such a small detail. He unknits his brows when you come puttering down the steps again, holding your hand out with clothes. Joel swallows with enough force you can watch his Adam's apple bob. You show him a kind smile, gesturing the clothes towards him when he doesn't take them right away.

“Here, they should fit. If you wanna go to the bathroom and change, I can hang your wet stuff up. Is that okay?”

Joel hates how awkward he's being. But now he can't stop thinking about whose clothes he's taking. His eyes flicker from the clump of clothes to your face. You are bold, but certainly not bold enough to offer up your boyfriend's clothes to him to change into, right?

Joel gives a tight smile.

“Thank you.” His voice is hoarse as he grabs the clothes.

“Bathroom is at the top of the steps, it's the first door right there.” You say and point to it from the bottom of the steps.

Joel nods his head and makes his way up the steps as gracefully as he can in soaking wet jeans. The second the bathroom door closes you blow a fat breath through your lips. You’re so fucking tense right now. You are beyond conflicted and the coil in the pit of your belly grows taught the longer you look at him. Quickly, you give your living room a once over. No trash or anything extremely embarrassing lying around. You make quick work of his clothes, writing them out in the kitchen sink before laying them over the backs of your kitchen chairs, making your way back into the living room. You close your eyes and steady your breathing while you wait for him.

You hear heavy footsteps shortly after. Joel doesn't see you in the entryway anymore, he cranes his head around the archway into the living room and pulls his lips in a tight smile when he sees you. He takes a step forward, bringing his body past the threshold to stand in front of you, his wet clothes in hand. They’re dripping onto the hardwood floor. Soft pattering is a grave difference compared to the beating your windows are taking from the rain. You’re not even giving him the decency to look him in the face right now. The sweatpants look to be a decent fit, maybe a little tight around his thighs but you’re not arguing. What catches you off guard and knocks the wind from your lungs is the shirt. Your eyes are trained on his broad chest. You don't even know if he could take a deep breath in this thing, that's how tight it is. The outline of his soft belly makes your heart throb.

Okay, reel it in.

God, his arms. You think if he moved the right way they’d rip right through the fabric.

This is just as lewd as him in the wet t-shirt.

Joel clears his throat and you snap out of it. You snatch his wet clothes out of his hands, letting him know that you’ll be right back. When you disappear down to the basement Joel turns to look outside. It doesn't look like it has let up at all. He rolls his shoulders before crossing his arms over his chest. This shirt is fucking too small. Is it odd that this offers Joel some confidence? That if Jesse is your boyfriend, Joel is bigger than him. It strokes his ego. His head whips around when he hears your bare feet pad against the hardwood floor.

Holy shit, his arms are huge. You thought they were big before. While they are crossed over his chest in front of you, they look about double the size of your head, you think. 

“How long has the power been out?” Joel breaks the heavy silence.

You nod your head and gesture to all of the candles around.

“Went out a little before you knocked. You didn’t hear the transformer? Grateful Ellie has a bunch of these or else we’d be sittin’ here in the pitch black.” You smile, walking over to the couch.

“You can sit, y’know.” You tell him while taking a seat in the corner of the couch.

Joel hums in appreciation before lowering his body onto the couch next to you. The couch isn't big. It can fit three people comfortably, four is everyones willing to be touching knees. But Joel is so big and broad, you don’t know if you could fit four people on here with him being one of them. You turn slightly to face him, hands nervously picking at a loose string on your sleeve.

“Are the clothes okay?” 

Joel clears his throat and nods, thoughts of this Jesse lingering in the back of his mind. He wants to ask, but doesnt want to seem like he's jumping down your throat. It's a fine line he's walking. 

“Lil’ tight up top.” He chuckles, leaning into the armrest of the couch, knees spreading apart from the other. “They’re fine. Thank you again. For all’a this. Dryin’ my clothes n’ letting me barge in like this.” 

You laugh softly before your features soften to something more genuine.

“Yeah, of course.” 

Pliant silence falls over the both of you. Illuminated by the orange flickering glow that licks over both of your features. It casts heavy shadows, emphasizing each curve. The storm is still rolling strong. Lightning paints the room white every few minutes and the thunder that follows after rattles the windows. The both of you pretend to look at everything else but each other. Stolen glances making your heart skip when he almost catches you.

“S’Jesse your boyfriend?” Joel finally breaks the silence.

His eyes widen at your expression. Your face pinched in confusion. You stuttered on your words a bit before choking out a light laugh and shaking your head. You held your hands up, palms towards him and shook them.

“No! Jesse? God- no. He’s friends with Ellie and I.” You toss your head back and laugh a little more.

Joel closes his eyes and sighs, relief visibly relaxing his frame. Your laugh radiates between his ears and he can’t help the smile spreading his lips, a low chuckle of his own rumbling from his chest. It was infectious. He much prefers this over the pouty face you put on earlier.

“Don’t you think your last visit would’ve gone a little differently if he was?” Your laugh settles and you turn your attention back to him.

You’re taking the opportunity to chop at the tension. If he’s gonna be here until the storm calms down, you don’t want to sit in heavy silence the whole time. 

Joel's chest grows tight. You’re bringing it up. He can’t read the way you’re bringing that up. Is it laced with regret or want? You told him you wanted that, but that was a week ago. There has been zero communication from that point until now. He’d be lying if he said that week wasn’t spent waiting for another maintenance request to come in from you. He wouldn’t care if it was a lie. He wouldn’t care if it was as simple as changing another lightbulb. He wanted to see you. He thought showing up out of the blue was uncalled for and probably scary for you. But that's exactly what he did tonight. It felt different even if he was justifying it for his own selfish reasons. 

Joel shrugs his shoulders, hesitant to meet your eyes, afraid of the distaste he might find in them. When he does meet them, there isn’t any. He narrows his eyes in concentration, maybe the lighting is hiding it. You give him an expectant look, waiting for his response. He doesn’t find any distaste. He sees soft and kind. Welcoming. 

“It should’ve gone differently for ‘nother reason.” He swallows thickly, wiping his sweaty palms over his thighs before settling them in his lap. 

That hits you like a ton of bricks. What could he mean by that? You want to question him but your Dad’s voice is bouncing around in your brain. They’re friends. 

“This is normal, right? Casual stormy hangouts with my building’s maintenance man.” You laugh softly, trying to bring some reality back to the conversation mostly to remind yourself who he is and that you shouldn’t be feeling the way you do.

“Is that what I am?” He raises his eyebrows, shifting his body more towards you, his arm closest to you swinging up to rest on the back of the couch.

You freeze. Your mouth is so dry, it’s uncomfortable. No, you want to tell him. That's not all he is. That's all he knows he is. If I tell him the truth this ends. He’ll be angry or uncomfortable. He’ll walk out. You won’t see him again, not like this at least. 

“You fixed the dryer.”

“I did.” He seems amused.

“And the lightbulb.”

His hand grips the cushion at the back of the couch, sighing softly while adjusting. He pushed his hips forward and slouched deeper into the couch.

“Want me to fix anythin’ else?” 

There it is. That same syrupy draw he had in your bedroom last week. When he called you beautiful. Your body reacts immediately. Your breath catches and your thighs press together. Yes, you want to scream. You want to tell him to make all the racing thoughts go quiet but you can’t. You can’t speak. The silence is comfortable despite you feeling like you could jump out of your skin. You wonder if he feels the same. 

Joel lets his question hang in the air. It’s thick. He likes watching you squirm in front of him. He slowly drags his palm along his thigh, resting it on his knee. His hand at the back of the couch hangs there. He’s inches from you and he’s fighting every urge to reach out and actually touch you. Feel the way your soft skin gives way under his grasp. 

He can tell you hold a lot on your shoulders. You’re jittery and always huffing breaths. An anxious lil’ thing. He wants to make you forget about whatever it is you’re stressing about. He wants to quiet the non stop in your brain. Joel wants to make you feel good. 

“Joel. There's something I need to-“

“Don’t say it.” His voice is low, rough like gravel soaked in honey.

You freeze. Fuck, does he know?

“If you’re about to tell me that kiss was a mistake- don’t.”

‘Because I’ve been telling myself not to think about it. Not to want it again. But I do. I want it like hell.’ Is what he wants to tell you. He’s afraid if he said that, you’d tell him it means nothing. He would have to believe you. And he doesn’t want to.

You open your mouth, lips shaped around the words to tell him about your Dad. Just say it. Say he knows your father. That he’s your dad’s friend. That you shouldn’t have kissed him, or liked it, or thought about it every hour since.

Just say it.

You don’t.

“Joel-“

‘Don’t tell me something that makes me stop. Let me have this. Let me give this to you. One goddamn thing that feels good again.’ Joel hopes his expression is conveying his emotions because they’re too big to tell you so soon.

“I keep thinking about the way you taste.” Joel settles on that. 

Your eyes are wide. With one swift movement Joel is close to you on the couch. You don’t move just yet. If you let him kiss you, you can’t take it back. If you tell him who you are, this ends. But if you lie? If you lie, maybe you get to keep him for just a little longer. 

Joel's thick fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you closer. You lean into his touch, your shoulder brushing against his chest. 

“You don’t have to say anything, darlin’. Just let me kiss you one more time.” 

“Joel..” You say his name again in a whisper, eyes locked onto his lips.

You don’t stop him when he leans in closer, you lean in and kiss him. Joel's broad hands cup your cheeks. He kisses you hungrily, like he’s a man ten years starved. Just like the first time, you melt into his touch and twist your hands up in the fabric of his too tight shirt. You’re soft and pliable in Joel's hands. You’ve got him tied up in knots and you don’t even know it. 

Joel angels the kiss downwards, shifting on the couch to crane over you. His broad shoulders shadow your frame as he pulls back from the kiss, his warm breath puffing over your face. Your eyes are blown black. Wide like saucers. Cheeks are flushed.

A second later Joel's hands are gone from your cheeks and he’s settled back into the cushion of the couch, his chest rising and falling quicker than before. You’re frozen. You feel like the worst person alive. But you want him so badly you’d lie to your fathers face to keep this. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want this. Didn’t need this. You want to give into him. 

You don’t know if it's because it’s been so long since you’ve been touched like this, or maybe it’s because no one has ever touched you like Joel does. There's been boys here or there making comments, Owen specifically being persistent but you didn’t feel like that with any of them. Joel is looking at you right now like he could eat you alive. It makes you feel good. Makes you feel wanted. You couldn’t name the last time someone has made you feel that way. You can’t wrap your head around anything further than kissing him, it’d feel too surreal. But you want it, badly. 

Joel evens his breathing from the other side of the couch, his eyes still trained on you. Everywhere on you. Your face, your shaky hands, the curve of your thigh disappearing under your hoodie.

“C’mere.” He gruffs.

His voice almost startles you, too lost in your own head. You furrow your eyebrows and scoot a little closer on the couch.

Joel sucks his teeth and shakes his head, leaning into the back of the couch and spreading his thighs apart. His hands rest at his thighs.

“No. C’mere darlin’.” He draws, tapping his fingers on his lap.

Excitement jolts through your spine and curls around your belly. You bring yourself to your knees, shuffling closer before slinging your knee over his lap. Joel's thick fingers wrap around the side of your knee, guiding it over his lap and letting it sink into the cushion. You’re straddling him, hovering over his lap.

His other hand rests on the top of your opposite thigh, his calloused thumb rubbing small, lazy circles into your skin. Joel doesn’t ignore the way your breath hitches when he does that. A coy smirk plays at the corner of his lips while he relaxes into the cushions behind him.

You swallow thickly, eyes darting around his face frantically. The soft creases by the corners of his eyes. The way the grey in his hair seeps into his beard, speckling through the dark hairs. Your body jolts, nerves heightened, the earth cracking thunder rumbling through the house. Joel puts his hands at your hips, pressing his fingers into you through the fabric of your hoodie.

“Easy.. Relax.” He says smoothly, putting pressure on your hips to coax you to settle on his lap. 

You gladly comply, his words twisting your belly. Letting your thighs relax, all of your weight settled in his lap with a quiet groan. The weight of his hands at your hips, the stretch of the inside of your thighs as they entrap the width of his hips. Hands are pressed against his shoulders, fingertips pressing into his muscle. You feel arousal pooling at your center.

“M’gonna make you feel good, yeah?” He nods his head, his low voice is breathless.

Your shoulders crumple, muscles in your tummy contracting, his words affecting you physically. With brows saddled together, you nodded your head. One of your hands ball his shirt in your fist.

“Lemme hear you, baby.” Joel growls. 

“Y-Yeah. Yes. Please.” You huff out, nodding again. 

“Good girl.”

Joel swallows your whimper, not giving you a second before planting his lips on yours. His lips are soft and warm against yours. He wastes no time to drag his tongue along your lower lip. You part your lips willingly, tongue meeting his and moving rhythmically. Joel's hands push your hips, grinding you down into his lap. His cock is hard beneath the sweatpants, throbbing against your clothed core as you respond to the coax of his hands. You slowly dragged your hips back and forth, rolling them against his lap and whining quietly against his lips. 

Joel pressed his teeth into the flesh of your lower lip, tilting his head back before letting it snap back into place and pressing a wet kiss there to soothe it. The whine that drew from you hit him deep in his stomach. 

“God, listen to you.” He muses with a lazy smirk on his lips. “Soundin’ real pretty.”

Fuck, you didn’t know you have a praise kink until now. Your face pinches up when the pang of pleasure is sent through your core, settling low and adding to the slick between your legs. Lightning illuminates the room for a split second before it returns to its orangey, flickering hue. 

Joel's hands slide under the fabric of your hoodie.

“Keep movin’.” He encourages you as your hips sputter when his hands leave.

“O-okay.” You breathe out.

Your fist tightens, tugging at his shirt. Warm, rough hands meet the bare skin of your torso and your breath hitches. A low groan rumbles from Joel's chest. You’re melting against him and he’s barely touched you yet. He wants to see you unravel from his doing. Joel doesn’t mind being greedy in this setting. He wants to take everything you’ll give to him. He gets off on seeing you lose yourself in pleasure, grinding into his lap.

His hands slip farther up your skin, fingers wrapping at the spot under your ribs, thumbs rubbing in small circles on your exposed skin. His grip tightens as he bucks his hips into yours. A broken moan is ripped from your chest, the pressure against your soaked cunt sending stars across your eyes. Thunder cracks and the padding of rain hiding your uneven breaths.

“Make yourself feel good.” He commands, voice softening. 

Your hips stutter, his request making you nervous. Make yourself feel good, using him? Red creeps up your neck and spreads over your cheeks. Lightning lights up the room.

“Don’t get all shy on me now, baby. Go on n’ take what you need.” He rasps, pulling your torso into his.

His lips ghost the shell of your ear, heaving chests just inches apart.

“Let me hear you.” He coaxes for your words again.

The only response you could muster was a whine of his name and, fuck, Joel grips your ribs harder, restraining himself from fucking up into you again. He meant it when he said he wanted you to take what you need. He wanted to watch you pant, whine and chase after your high. He wasn’t worried about his own physical pleasure right now. Watching you repeatedly circle your hips into his was pleasure enough for him. It makes his chest tighten, throat dry up and his cock pulse.

Joel slips one of his hands over your clothed breast, pressing his finger pads into the fleshy bit that spills out of the top of your sports bra.

“Fuck- Joel.” You whimper, your hand that isn’t gripping his t-shirt moves quickly to lace itself in his damp hair. 

“That feel good, pretty girl?”

He’s throwing new pet names your way and if you were standing they’d make your knees buckle. 

“Feels. R-Really. Really good.” You stutter out, jaw falling slack.

“That's it, baby.” He praises, letting his head rest against the back of the couch to take you in.

He kneads his hand into your tit, palm rubbing against your hardened nipple beneath the fabric. You arch your back, pushing your chest further into his hand. Your hips buck into his hard on as pressure builds in your core. The room is filled with wanton moans and the soft squelch of wet fabric sticking to your slick cunt. Joel's eyes never leave you. They linger at your mouth to make sure he doesn’t miss any of the noises that spill out. The constant thud of rain fading from his brain as he focuses everything he has on you.

Babbled words spill from your plump, glossy lips. Joel's fingers curl around the cup of your sports bra and tugs down, letting your boob spill out of the restraining fabric. His palm immediately goes back to work on your bare breast, kneading and pushing his palm into the soft flesh.

“Speak up.” He tells you. 

“Joel-“

“Yes, baby?”

“Please.” You beg quietly. 

Not for anything specific. The coil in the pit of your stomach has been tightening, it's threatening to snap and you need to feel him. He’s cool and collected from what you can tell and the imbalance turns you on even more. How can he be so put together and grounding when he’s unwinding you thread by thread? Making you a glassy eyed, whimpering mess on his lap. 

“Tell me what you need. Wanna hear you.” He gruffs.

“Touch me.” You blurt out breathlessly.

Joel tuts and shakes his head.

“Be more specific.” He commands.

You crane your head into your shoulder and whine in frustration, hips sputtering against his. Your slick has soaked through your panties, sleep shorts and it's begun bleeding into the crotch of Joel's sweatpants. He can feel how warm you are even through all the layers.

“Fuck. You’re soaked, hm?” 

You nod your head in a hurry. His thumb brushes over your nipple and you whine.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout you all week.” He whispers and leans in, pressing a hot kiss to your temple.

You collapse into him, your full weight on him.

“Can’t tell you how many times I’ve touched myself to the thought of you this past week,” Your name leaves his lips effortlessly.

His words beat into your core. The thought of Joel touching himself in his bed to the thought of you drives you crazy. When you’re able to form coherent thoughts you’ll tell him you’ve done the same. But none of that felt half as good as this does.

“T-Touch-“ Was all you were able to get out again.

Joel's lips press hot, open mouth kisses to your jaw and just below it, nipping there before dragging the flat of his tongue over it. His thick forefinger and thumb rolling your nipple slowly before tugging. 

“Alright, baby. I got you.” You mutter against your damp skin, his breath fanning over the wet spot sent a shiver down your spine. 

While one of his hands stays kneading your breast, the other travels from your ribs and smoothes over the curve of your ass, gripping it tightly. It doesn’t stay there long as it slips down your thigh, raking his dull nails against your sensitive skin and back up, his large hand sprawling against your lower stomach, thumb pushing between your folds. You cry out a moan, your forehead falling onto his broad, warm shoulder. Joel cranes his thumb, pressing into the soaked fabric and making contact with your clit. You sink your teeth into your lower lip, fighting the noises that threaten to fall past it. You hand curls into his hair and tugs, eliciting a moan from him.

Joel's hand palms your breast, pulling your bra down once more to give him more freedom, gripping it roughly before returning to teasing and rolling your hardened nipple

“Joel- I’m c-close, please. I’m gon-“ You whine your heavy breaths fanning out over his neck.

“Give it to me.” He says slowly, your ‘please’ making him feel dizzy.

Your hips buck forward and fall out of rhythm as you grow closer.

“Atta girl. Doin’ so good for me.” 

His praises push you closer to the edge.

“Go ‘head n’ cum for me, pretty girl.” He rasps.

That's all it takes. 

Your eyes screw shut, white streaks flooding the back of your lids. You cum, hard. Stomach is hot, muscles twitch and tighten under your skin. A slew of moans and his name leave your lips, muffled by you pressing your face into his shoulder. He releases your breast, that hand settles on your hip, takes over for you and he grinds you into him to ride out your high. Your breath hitches as his thumb adds more pressure. The feeling of fresh arousal seeping quickly through the already soaked fabric. He continues to work your hips, slowing them down as he feels your thighs twitch and torso quiver. 

“You did so good.” He whispers into your hair, pressing a soft kiss there.

You whine in response and again when he pulls his glistening thumb away. He wipes it at the inside of your thigh before wrapping both of his strong arms around your shaking frame. The whooshing between your ears making everything sound far away, the rain, low rumble of thunder at the storm moves farther, his deep, syrupy voice. 

“I gotcha, baby. Relax.” 

You do. Deep inhale and exhale causes you to fold deeper into him.

“Thank you.” Is all you can muster.

Your body rises and falls with Joel's chest that shakes with a low chuckle. The two of you sit there like that for a moment, chests swelling and falling opposite the other. Fitting together nicely. You shift on his lap, thighs burning from the stretch and you feel him still hard under you. You whine quietly at the feeling, still sensitive from your high. You shift farther back onto his thighs, drawing distance between you, your hands smoothing over his shoulders and onto his chest. Joel lifts his head and furrows his eyebrows, watching you carefully.

Your hands skate lower, down his torso and pressed into the soft of his belly.

“What’re you gettin’ up to?” He questions.

“Wanna make you feel good, too.” You respond in a quiet voice.

Joel smiles warmly but shakes his head.

“Uh-uh. Don’t worry about me, darlin’. Watchin’ you made me feel plenty good.”

Your face pinches in confusion. He doesn’t want you to touch him? Your body fills with an anxious driven pit.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask. Pulling your hands back from his torso and wrapping them around your own to comfort yourself.

Joel quickly shakes his head and reaches out to grab your hands, placing them on your thighs, and his hands over yours.

“Not at all. You did good, told you just that.” He murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss to your kiss. “Y’looked like a hurt puppy earlier, wanted to make whatevers goin’ on in that busy lil’ mind a’ yours quiet for a while.” He presses another kiss there before leaning back into the cushion.

Your eyes soften. He just wanted to make you feel good with nothing in return? Your expression is clear to Joel.

“You’re breakin’ my heart, baby.” He brings a hand up to cup your warmed cheek. “These lil’ college boys always expect somethin’ in return, hm?”

You nod your head into his palm slowly.

“Don’t worry your pretty lil’ head ‘bout me. Just relax.” His voice is slow and sweet.

You try to. Your tired body does, but your mind is still racing. He said you looked like a hurt puppy earlier. Are you really worrying over your Dad that loudly in your expression? Enough for him to notice in this flickering candle light? His hand runs smoothly over your back, quieting your rambling thoughts. Your body is heavy and it feels like there's weights wrapped around your wrists and ankles. So with a deep breath in and out you close your eyes and relax. You’re allowing yourself to have this and enjoy it, too.

You don’t remember when you fell asleep. You don’t remember walking up the steps and getting under your covers. But when you wake up that's where you are. Tucked under the covers in your bed still in your hoodie and shorts. You rub the sleep from your eyes and sit up, squinting. The sun is rising.

It takes a minute for your brain to wake up and its first thought is; Joel.

You throw the blanket off of your legs and hop out of bed on wobbly legs. You make it down the steps in record time and stand in the entryway, eyes blinking rapidly.

All of the candles are blown out and sitting on your coffee table. You take a few more steps, his clothes are no longer hanging on the back of your dining room chairs. A few more steps. The clock on the oven is blinking: 12:00. Powers back on.

“Joel?” You call out quietly.

You’re upset to not see him here. Even more upset that you fell asleep so easily on top of him, crumpled into his chest. There's an uneasy feeling trickling over your shoulders and settling at the top of your stomach like reality just hit you. Your lips still feel swollen from last night. You didn’t tell him last night.You actually made it so much worse for the both of you. The only difference is that Joel is blissfully unaware of it right now.

All you can smell is him. Rainwater and Joel soaked into your clothing. You need to get it off or else there's no way you’ll be able to do anything productive today. You trudge back up the stairs and into the bathroom, quickly shedding your clothing and turning the water on. Once warm you hop in and draw the curtain closed. It drips down your torso and over the source muscles of your thighs. You sigh quietly at the pull in them, running your hand over your skin.

You finish washing your hair and body. Strawberry scented body wash. No longer smelling like Joel. It makes you frown.

Hours later you sat at your desk, scrolling through your email at your computer monitor. Your eyes have been bored into this screen for what seems like hours. Responding to email threads, practically one step away from begging these companies to spare you a fucking internship. 

You express your frustrations to Ellie when she calls you on the phone after hearing about the big storm in your town last night.

“Did water get in anywhere?” She asks and you hear rustling over the phone line.

“Nope. Lost power but it came back sometime when I was asleep. Everything seems fine.” You tell her, leaving out the details of a certain visitor you had.

“Not too bad then. Hate to rub it in your face but all I’ve seen is clear skies since I got here.” She chuckles.

You roll your eyes playfully.

“It wasn’t too bad, really. Today isn’t as sticky hot now that that's over. That's a Plus.”

She tells you about Dina’s family and the farm. Tells you that she's never had a better scrambled egg in her entire life, Dina’s Mom is a pro apparently. She asks you about the internships and you tell her you’re fighting for your fucking life.

“It’s not even required hours, who cares.” She says, your name falling from her lips in a tut.

“I care. I just need something. Money and to keep my mind occupied.”

“If you need something then why not go back to Riverside?” Ellie suggests.

You groan at the thought. 

Riverside Diner was the job you scored when you first came to school in Austin. Local diner, decent size, gets a good amount of foot traffic and a ton of regular customers. When you say a ton, you mean it. During your first summer after your freshman year, you picked up more hours. Working five, sometimes six days a week when tourists would flood the city, rather than the one or two shifts a week. Everyday the same man would sit at the counter and order a coffee and a slice of pie. There was a woman who’d come in every Sunday afternoon with three younger girls. A boy around your age that you recognized from campus would come and get pancakes multiple times a week. You didn’t really notice all of the regulars when you were working part time during the school year. It felt like its own little town.

“Don’t groan at me.” Ellie sucks her teeth.

“I think I was just hell bent on getting an internship like everyone else this summer. It’s not a bad idea though.”

“It’s not at all. Frank always loved having you there anyway. He’d probably give you a shift the next day if you asked for it.” 

“You’re right. When are you coming back? This house is too quiet with just me.” You neglect the fact that it was anything but quiet last night. 

Despite the rain and the thunder, Joel had you a mess in minutes. You don’t tell her you let your dad’s friend touch you. And that it felt safe. And hot. Perfect.

“‘Bout ten days.”

You hear Dina’s voice on the other side of the line calling Ellie. With a small sigh Ellie says her goodbyes. She lets you know that she will text you later.

With that you’re sitting in silence at your desk again, mulling over the last 24 hours. You replay it like a movie, over and over again. His reassuring, coaxing words of praise. God, you could feel your panties dampen at the thought. 

You smoothed your palms over your torso, ridding of any wrinkles in your costume. You tilted your head while you watched yourself in the full length mirror.

Your body clad in a white dress, the buttons in the front coming to rest just between your breasts. The red, lacy bra top exposed. Your eyes fell down your legs, covered in thin, white stocking material until your mid thigh. Your hands fumbled with the skirt of your dress, reaching up to grab the strap of the white garter belt you had beneath the costume, clipping it to keep your thigh highs in place. You repeated this on the other thigh.

Hair tied into a low, messy ponytail, pulling strands out to frame your face. Small, white costume hat with a fat red cross in the middle sat off center the top of your head. Your eyelids are packed with a pale blue shadow, lined with black and finished with thick mascara. Red lips, and rosy cheeks to match.

Damn.

You thought. You’re pretty fucking close to the real thing. Just missing one thing. You pulled a skin tight blue latex glove over your one hand, letting it snap against your skin.

You smiled contently at yourself, wiggling your toes against the floor in excitement. This wasn’t for you. None of this was for you actually, despite how fucking good it felt to have this on. It was for Joel. It’s been two agonizing weeks since you’ve last seen him.

It’s always- “Sorry, baby. Your dad’s keepin’ me late at work tonight. No slippin’ away.” and not- “F’course I’ll come over and do away with the nagging between your thighs. Right away, baby.”

You could roll your eyes right now just at the thought. But this. This is good enough revenge for now, you figured. ‘Nurse from the Blink-182 Album’ You know. Enema of the State. Joel doesn’t give a shit about Blink-182. But he will give a huge fuck about you in this outfit. Your stomach turns at the thought.

You peer over to the red heels lying outside your closet door and you think about it long and hard. But theres absolutely no fucking way you’re trudging through gravel drive ways in them. You bend down, hooking your fingers into your old pair of white converse.

These’ll do.

You slip them on and turn to the steps, bouncing down them.

———

Joel sucked on the toothpick between his lips, bringing a hand up to tilt the cowboy hat upon his head, bringing it forward slightly. He sighed, leaning against the wall of your front porch. Tommy and your father opposite him, backs to the street. Your father lazily flips burgers around on the grill.

He was trying to act normal- laugh when he should, nod when Tommy or your father told him a story- but it was damn impossible with you prancing around the front yard like that.

Tight, short nurse’s dress. Red lipstick he was dying to smear. Skin tight stockings clinging to your thighs and- fuck. The garter belt clip that keeps them there.

You were laughing, handing out beers to some of the neighbors who sat in lawn chairs. The hair framing your face blowing softly in the cool wind. Joel tightened his jaw, hard enough that he snapped the toothpick between his molars. He spat it to the side with a grunt, beer warming in his tight grip.

Your dad, dressed in a pirate costume- hat, eyepatch, and all- was eating it up. “That’s my girl!” He shouted, holding his beer up, tilted towards you as he laughed. “Ain’t she somethin’? I barely gotta host ‘round here now that she's home.” He raised his eyebrows, bringing his beer to his lips for a long sip.

Joel forced a grin through a strained jaw . “Yeah.” he muttered under his breath, “She’s somethin’ alright.”

Tommy gently jabbed his elbow into his older brothers. “Man, you look like you’re in pain or somethin’. Y’alright?” Tommy turned his head towards Joel.

Joel mirrored him, giving him a once over before chuckling and shaking his head. “M’fine. Can’t take you serious with-“ Joel gestured his beer towards his kid brother. “All’at.”

Tommy furrowed his thick brows, lips falling to fein offense. “You barely got a damn costume on. You ain’t winning shit, Joel. I came to win, mother fucker.” He spoke coolly, taking a step back to let your dad and Joel get a good look at his costume.

Tommy had a pair of khakis on, dark green long sleeved shirt, and a black rubber apron tied over his torso, his face splattered with blood and some more dripping down the apron. Laminated I.D badge slung around his neck: ‘Dexter Morgan.’ Fake knife hanging from his belt.

“I ain’t peg you for a Dexter fan, Tommy.” Your dad quipped while shaking his head at the two brothers.

“Eddie, y’look like you’re fresh off’tha damn Black Pearl.” Joel chuckled, Tommy dropping his smug look to laugh alongside him.

“Ain’t no damn.. Jack Sparrow.” Your dad laughed, taking some burgers off of the grill, placing them on a platter. “Just any fuckin’ pirate. The two a’yous piss me off.” He joked, sucking his teeth.

“Baby! C’mere!” Your dad called, your head snapped at his shout.

You came quickly, bounding over to the three men.

“You lot doin’ alright?” You beamed, eyes lingering on Joel for just a moment longer.

He looked fucking good. When didn’t he, though. His blue jeans snug around his thighs, fell neatly around his booted feet. It looks like he polished them recently. His dark navy flannel, nothing new, you’ve seen it on him thousands of times but it always looks just as good. Buttoned almost to the top, two spaces left undone, few dark, wiry hairs peeking over the snug, white beater he had on underneath. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the muscles in his arm visible as his hand gripping a beer bottle tighter and tighter. You swallowed thickly as your eyes moved slowly to meet his eyes. You’d probably be drooling if it weren’t for your dad and Tommy standing between you and Joel. The air felt thicker than usual. His eyes were dark and stoic, burning into your body. His dark hair was peppered with grey at his hairline, curling at his ears and the nape of his neck more than the rest. And fuck- that damn cowboy hat.

“We’re doin’ just fine, baby.” Your dad nodded, then gestured towards the plate of burgers he had just pulled off the grill, a sorry smile on his face.

“Would y’mind runnin’ these around and offerin’ them up?” He asked, a sing-song tone in his voice, trying to persuade you.

You laughed softly and shook your head. “I gotcha. Wouldn’t want hostin’ to interrupt your boy time.” You poked at him before grabbing the tray.

You gestured the tray towards your dad, then Tommy, letting them take what they’d like.

“Want some?” You questioned Joel, looking up to him through your thick lashes.

His lips turned, almost grimaced at the way his stomach twisted. “Not hungry f’that right now.” He muttered emotionless.

Your face flooded with heat, you’d be surprised if it couldn’t be felt 10 feet away. You’d nod your head and turn quickly before you jumped his bones. You could feel his eyes bore into the back of your head, following you as you’d walk down the porch steps and back to the yard, smiling and offering up the food on the platter.

Tommy took a bite of his burger, settling next to his brother. Your dad stood and started cleaning the grill. Tommy mentioned something about the Rangers, but didn’t get an answer from Joel. He whipped his head over, narrowing his eyes to follow Joel's eye-line once he realized Joel was too preoccupied to pay the slightest attention.

Tommy hummed in amusement when he saw you, holding your tray, bent at the waist and chatting with a neighbor sitting in a lawn chair.

“You’re starin’ awful hard at Eddie’s girl.” Tommy said low, nudging Joel with his elbow. “You got a thing for nurses now, old man?” Tommys got a sick grin on his face despite chewing on his last bite on the burger.

Joel gave him a sharp look. “Drop it, Tommy.” He spat.

Tommy held his hands up in defeat, chuckling lowly. “Alright, alright.”

“Need a beer.” Joel said, jaw tight.

“You offering?” Eddie quipped.

“Nope.” Joel popped the ‘p’ while pushing himself off the wall, heading through the front door of the house.

——

The noise of the block party muffled as you walked through the back door, the tray now empty as you had made your rounds. You stopped in there to wash up quickly and grab more beers. You were halfway into the fridge when a rough hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, yanking you around.

Joel.

He was towering over you, his hat shadowing his dark eyes, the muscle in his jaw ticking. Up close he smelled like beer, smoke, and the lingering warmth of October air. It was dizzying.

“You tryin’a kill me, baby?” he muttered, a deep rumble, only for you to hear.

“What? M’just celebrating.” You fiend innocence as Joel backed you up against the counter top, the cold granite pressing into the middle of your back. His body is just inches from yours.

His eyes lowered to your lips, then to trace the obscene outline of your costume. The curve of your thighs, the way your chest nearly spilled out of the tight, low neckline.

“You’ve got no idea what you’re doin’ t’me, sweetheart..” He breathed out, pushing his hips forward, into yours.

He leaned down, breath hot against your ear. “No fuckin’ clue.”

You did have a clue. You felt it as clear as day pressing into your lower stomach as he kept you pinned at the counter, his fingers flexing against your wrist while his other hand brushed over your side. Your lips parted, a soft sigh falling against his collar when his hand gripped your side, pulling you against him.

“Maybe I do.” You teased, whispering soft against his skin, lips pursed just under his ear, pressing a kiss there.

A low groan rumbled in the back of Joel's throat, hand that was wrapped around your wrist leaving to cup your jaw, his broad palm splayed across the front of your neck. His thumb and middle finger pressing gently into your jaw bone, his index finger tapping the apple of your cheek once. His grip wasn’t harsh but it was strong, your face squished slightly. You’d blink quickly while looking up to him through your heavy lids, your stomach twisting and turning with heat.

“You keep pushin’,” He growled through a tight jaw. “N’ I’m not waitin’ ‘til later to put you in your place.”

You swallowed thickly, he could feel your throat flex under his warm palm.

“You understand me, pretty girl?” He leaned back a bit to get a better view of you, his hand giving your jaw a squeeze, his other hand slipping from your side to your lower back, pulling your hips flush against his.

Your eyes hooded, he barely touched you and you already look so fucked. You couldn’t help but crumble at his touch, he’s too calculated. He knows when to push, when to pull. Where to touch, where to grip, then to soothe it after. It makes your head spin.

On cue, his thumb shifted, rubbing small circles into your back where he guesses the corner of the counter was just jabbing you.

You squirmed beneath his gaze, it only brought a sly smirk to the corners of his full lips. You’d nod the best you can against his hand. He sucked his teeth sharply.

“Words, baby.” He raised his eyebrows waiting for your response, his tongue darting to wet his lips quickly.

The sight made you squeeze your thighs together, searching for any sort of friction to relieve the growing pit in your stomach. Just that short lived glimpse of his tongue was enough to fill your mind with gut churning flashbacks of his head between your thighs, his salt and pepper curls tickling your skin while that tongue lapped at you endlessly. His eyes were dark under heavy lids as he studied your face. His thumb lifted from your jaw and hovered over your lower lip, instinctively you parted them. Your eyes stayed locked on his, though his were now centered at your mouth. Slowly he pressed the pad of his thick thumb into the swell of your lower lip, then dragged it to the side, smearing the bright red lipstick over to the corner of your mouth.

What the fuck.

Your knees wobble. If he wasn’t holding you so closely they’d buckle and you’d fall right to them in front of him, beg him to let you take him in your mouth right there, in your kitchen, with the entire street just a wall away.

Tommy, just a wall away.

Your dad, just a wall away.

“Lemme hear ya’.” His voice snapped you out of your daze. Thick and syrupy against your buzzing ear drums.

“Y-Yeah. I understand.” You finally choke out, embarrassed at how pathetic you must sound.

He smirked, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he stood himself up straight, his hand behind your back steadying your wobbling frame- so used to his weight being held against it already. He sighed softly, hand leaving your jaw to slap his three, thick, middle fingers against your cheek. It wasn’t hard, just a love tap. But enough to leave your skin burning, to match the feeling between your thighs.

“Good.” He smiles. “Get back outside.” He mutters. “‘fore I do somethin’ stupid.”

It pained him to let you go at that moment. But you cleared your throat, nodding your head while bringing your own gloved thumb up to your mouth, pressing the pad against the flat of your tongue. Then swiping it below your bottom lip, cleaning up the lipstick he had smeared just a moment prior.

You turned to leave, smoothing your hands down your costume and taking a few steps when he cleared his throat, his feet still haven’t moved from their spot.

“Don’t forget the beer, baby girl.” He’d remind you, a sly, lopsided smile on his lips.

Fuck, what the fuck. Your brain is mush.

His stupid smile made your stomach contort. You trudged back the few fews, swinging the fridge open and grabbing as many in your arms as you could.

“You’re a real ass.” You grumbled before turning your back to him, cheeks hot while walking back out the back door.

Joel was left standing there, a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding, forcing itself from his lips as you pushed the door shut. His fists clenched at his sides, doing all he can to not follow you like a mad man.

——

It was incredibly hard to host while your brain buzzed with Joel. You tried your best with keeping up with conversation, but you weren’t retaining any of it. A ditsy smile on your lips, nodding and uh-huh’ing when it seemed right. You couldn’t focus on anything else other than him. Hell, most of the time your eyes were scanning the yard to make sure he was still here, still close. You were impatient and needy. You had half the mind to drag him away from Tommy and right up to your room, deal with all the bullshit fallout after. A hand on your shoulder made your body jump.

You heard your name behind you.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya.” The boy snickered, shoving your shoulder a bit.

Your shoulders relaxed when you saw Cody.

“Me? Didn’t scare me.” You laughed softly while opening your arms and pulling him into a hug, then holding him out in front of you to get a good look.

“My, my. New York did you well. You’re even taller n’ me now!” You whistled and laughed.

Cody grew up only a few houses down from yours. You both graduated high school together. You were close while growing up but amicably went separate ways when you both went off to college. Cody went to Columbia. Boy was smart as a whip. Lacked in common sense, but book smart. You’d seen him once the first summer after you both went away at a big BBQ with some of the neighbors.

He was cute, thinner build with a boyish face, could barely grow facial hair. The hair in his head was a dirty blonde and all over the place, curling at the ends. Cute. The both of you ended up getting quite drunk and had a half assed make out session on a tire swing in his backyard, and went your separate ways again to school. He texted you a week after that.

——

‘guess i’m not a good enough kisser to get a text? hahah’

You remember cringing as you saw the notification light up your phone.

‘knew i was drunk, but didn’t think i was that drunk!’

You played it off as a joke. You didn’t like him like that. You were drunk, young and lonely at the time.

——

You still don’t like him like that. But he was always a decent friend to you.

Cody nodded his head. Still had his bouncy blonde hair, but it was restrained under a hat.

“Race car driver, huh?” You smiled and tapped his arm before dropping your arms at your own sides.

“Oh absolutely. Last thing the store had in stock.” He joked while picking at the costume. “You look real good tonight,” Cody said eagerly. “Way too good to be hangin’ ‘round a dad party.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, taking a small step back. You didn’t expect him to be so forward. You laughed politely, wrapping your arms around your torso.

“Well, thanks Cody.” You said quietly, lips in a kind smile.

Joel and Tommy were leaning against your dads truck in the driveway. Tommy going on and on about the homeowner for the new job they just picked up, how bossy and nit-picky she is. Joel isn’t absorbing a lick of this. His dark eyes are shooting daggers into Cody.

“Maybe after things wind down..” Cody continued, his voice low as he leaned into your ear. “We could find a real party?”

You physically cringed. Is this really what guys your age thought was smooth?

No sweet talking? No soft looks and hot whispers?

No Joel.

They weren’t Joel.

Joel was smooth.

He was sweet and slow when he wanted to be. He was collected, stoic but melted in your hands when you were alone. As dominant as he was, you always had the final say. He’d do anything for you. He’d kneel before you and make you finish twice with his mouth before bending you over and fuck you until tears spilled down your cheeks. Then he’d kiss them away, rub your back and whisper-

‘s good baby. pretty girl. ‘s alright darlin’ i’m here. y’took my cock so well, s’like your made for m-’

Cody cleared his throat, pulling you from your thoughts. You still didn’t answer him.

Oops.

Your eyes were wide as you scanned his face, and could barely remember what he asked. It had to be clear as day because he repeated, placing his hand on your shoulder, slowly rubbing it down your arm to grip your elbow.

“Wanna find a real party later?” He repeated.

Joel wanted to take the beer bottle in his hand right now and crack it over this kids thick fucking skull.

“Kids bad news.” Tommy strains through his mouth full of beer, gesturing to Cody.

“What?” Joel snapped, he swore his blood ran cold.

“M’kiddin’. He’s a fuckin’ dork.” Tommy chuckles, his words slurring.

Joel rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the truck, taking a step towards the two of you only to be stopped by a strong arm pushing against his torso. Tommy almost choked on his beer.

“Woah, woah.” He sputtered, pushing Joel back against the truck.

“What’re you fixin’ to do, big brother?” He questions, squinting his eyes as he tries to read Joel's face.

His eyes were locked onto you and Cody, body stiff as his back was on the truck again, Tommy’s arm lowering after a beat. He didn’t answer. Watching your tight, polite, forced smile. Cody leaning in closer, talking too damn much. Touching your fuckin’ arm.

Eddie peered over to Joel and Tommy, then you and Cody before letting out a laugh. He sauntered over, enough beers in him that he really did look like Jack Sparrow, walking the way he was. He slapped Joel on the back.

“She can handle him.” He reassures Tommy and Joel. “Cody’s harmless. He’s been makin’ eyes at her since they were fifteen. Little punk just ain’t smart enough to know she’s outta his league.” Your dad laughs at his own comment.

Joel silently agrees. ‘Way out.’ He thinks to himself, bringing a hand of his to pinch the bridge of his nose, pulling himself together.

“Fucker went to Columbia, still ain’t smart enough.” Eddie continues with a laugh.

That comment pulls a laugh from Tommy, but not from Joel.

Joel grunted, muscle in his jaw ticking. Tommy and Eddie were too busy laughing back and forth over it, he used the opportunity to saunter towards you.

You shook your head softly. “Thanks, Cody. But I’ll be good here. Dad party or not.” You confirm with a solid nod, taking a slow step back.

Cody flushed and muttered something under his breath, then turned to walk away. You rolled your eyes and pushed air through your lips, blowing raspberries as he did.

Joel stopped in his tracks as Cody turned away, weight lifting from his shoulders when they rolled back. He sipped his beer, but kept a watchful eye. Pretending like he didn’t want to snap that kid in half.

You turned to pick up some empty cans, catching sight of Joel and his rigid frame, shooting him a quick look as if to say.

‘Relax.’

His shoulders slouched as he sighed. But he was hanging on by a thread.

———

Your dad stood at the porch, drunkenly declaring the start of the costume contest, giving directions to those who wanted to participate. Slowly groups gathered across the street, leaving a few stragglers behind. You’re using the opportunity to clean up some. Collecting empty bottles, cans, plates and candy wrappers.

You caught his eye again from across the yard. You froze where you were standing, the both of you just taking a moment to stare. His eyes flickered behind the house, then back to yours. You blinked, doing the same. When your eyes met him again he tilted his head the same direction, quickly. He pushed himself out of his chair and went through the front door of the house. You gave it a moment before following, anxious bubbles blooming in your sternum. All you two knew was sneaking around. That same giddy feeling pushes goosebumps over your skin every, damn, time.

You made it into the house, looking around for him before noticing the back door was propped open.

You whine in confusion. “Joel, what the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, exiting the back door and shutting it behind you.

Still no sign of him.

You did hear heavy boots crunching on stale leaves. Your heart thumped against your chest, you swallowed thickly, making your way towards the back of the yard, by the shed.

Nothing. You push air through your nose, frustration growing.

What the fuck is he doing? Calling you to the back and disappearing? Is this fun to him?

You start to get annoyed, an anxious feeling in the bottom of your stomach.

A large, calloused hand grips your wrist for the second time today, pulling you behind the shed, pressing you roughly against the siding. The air pushed from your lungs in a gasp.

“What the f-“ You started angrily.

“You tryin’ to make me lose my goddamn mind tonight, darlin’?” He hissed against your ear, his breath pickling heat against your skin.

You dropped your annoyed frustration. Quickly it turned into a hot, needy kind of frustration between your thighs. A sick smile twisted at the ends of your lips, arching your back against the shed, pushing your chest into his broad, firm chest.

“What if I was?” You gleamed, breathless.

His expression stiffened, eyes cold and dark. He released your arm, that hand wrapping loosely around your jaw, the opposite finding your hip. He splayed his thick fingers along the curve of your ass, slipping his hand lower to cup your thigh, urging your leg to lift and hook at his hip. You whined at the cool air now having direct contact to your damp clothed core. His lips crashed to your hungrily, kissing you hard. His hand squeezed your thigh as he sunk his teeth into your lower lip. The sound leaving your throat was filthy, pleading for him.

“You keep wearin’ shit like this,” He muttered, dragging his lips across the skin of your jaw, sucking soft kisses there. “Someone’s gonna end up dead. And it ain’t gonna be me, baby.”

You moaned softly, his words hitting your core directly, heat building there. You giggled through needy breaths, snaking a hand between the two of you, tugging his cowboy hat lower to cover his eyes.

“You gonna punish me, cowboy?” You emphasized your southern drawl, and the growl that rumbled in his chest was all the assurance you needed to know his answer.

“Damn right I am.”

Your hand rested at his shoulder, pulling him down for another desperate kiss. His hand left your throat to mirror his other, cupping your opposite thigh and coaxing it to do the same. You whined into his lips and he swallowed every one of them. As you lifted your thigh, he bounced you to get a better grip, his strong, warm hands spread along the underside of your thighs, his hips pushed forward to keep you pinned at the wall. The cool metal of his bulky belt buckle pressed into your damp panties made you rut your hips pathetically against it.

One of his fingers finds its way under the strap of your garter belt. He pulled it away from your skin with a hooked finger, far enough to create tension. He let it slip. The strap snapped harshly against the sensitive, fleshy skin. You whined, body stiffened at the sharp burn, melting as it slowly turned sweet.

“Joel- please..” You pleaded against his lips.

“Yeah? Want me to take you right here-“

You heard your name.

Tommy’s voice.

Way too close.

You heard it again, shoes crunching the leaves beneath them.

Panicking, you look at Joel.

He’s losing his shit too.

Fuck.

“Shh. I got you.” He whispered, letting you down softly, but quickly onto the ground. You’re grateful with how quickly he’s collecting himself because you’re sure you still look like a deer in headlights.

Footsteps crunching closer.

Joel ushered you behind the recycling bin, mouthing to you ‘crouch down. be quiet’

You nodded. Your heart was beating out of your chest while you pulled your knees so close to your chest you could barely take a full breath.

Joel turned his back to you, rolling his shoulders back while clearing his throat.

“Joel?” Tommy's voice sounded so clear, he had to be right there.

“Takin’ a leak.” He said cooly. Like he didn’t just have you off the ground, whimpering into his lips.

You swallowed thickly, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to convince yourself this is just a sick fucking joke.

“You seen Eddie’s girl? He’s lookin’ for her.” Tommy slurred.

You heard Joel rustle with his belt buckle. ‘really selling the ‘takin’ a leak’ You thought to yourself.

“Ain’t seen her. Did you check the house?”

Tommy didn’t answer, he lingered for a second.

You felt your stomach sitting in your throat, threatening to spill your guts and give away your cover.

Tommy sucked his teeth, mumbling something under his breath before turning away. Leaves crunching under his shoes again.

You still felt like you were gonna puke, all this built up tension. You needed another second to remind yourself to breathe.

Joel peered around the bin to you, his face flushed, looking like he just ran a mile.

“Y’almost got us caught.”

“You almost got yourself caught, cowboy. Hands up my skirt n’ all.” You grumbled, frowning at him.

His lip curled, muttering something under his breath. He placed a hand on his belt, peering down at you.

“What was that?” You teased, a small smile teasing your lips.

“Said you’re a damn brat.” The words rolled off his tongue effortlessly, and landed deep, heavy in your core.

All the worry and anxiety melting from your body in that moment, that warm pit in your belly taking its place. He reached for your hand, that you graciously took, and pulled you to your feet. His hands, the ones that were just gripping your thighs in a filthy way. The ones that grip and pin your hips, the pads of those fingers that leave bruises there sometimes.

Those hands- His.

His hands.

They were gentle for now, brushing the dirt and leaves from your costume and helping you settle again. His last words rattled around in your brain.

“Go on, get ‘fore you get us both strung up.” His voice was soft, his hand giving you pat on your hip, guiding you out to the front as he lingered behind the shed a moment longer.

——

You were exhausted. Tired from picking up after everyone. You’re making runs for drinks, ice, trash bags, more drinks, quick pit stop behind the shed with Joel, judging the costume contest, things now finally starting to wrap up.

“Tommy, you’re really no help.” You’d mutter, tossing an empty can in his direction. He sat, eyes closed in a lawn chair. He gave no response.

“Only thing I asked-“ You’d grunt, trying to push the grill over to reach some trash behind it. “Was for you to- fuck-“ You panted, grunting against while pushing the grill. “Hold the fuckin’ bag open. Ya drunk, can’t even do that.” You blew air through puffed cheeks, shoulders slouched over as you turned back to him.

He was stirring in the chair, eyes not closed, but heavy enough to look it. “Not a drunk.. You screwed me on that contest. Should’ve been first place.” He slurred. You laughed at him, tossing an empty red cup that was behind the grill at him next, barely making it in the bag.

“You holding grudges now?” You joked, clapping your hands together to brush them off. “C’mon. Don’t be a baby.” You teased.

“He still sour o’er that?” Your dad’s voice comes from the yard.

“He hasn’t shut up ‘bout it since.” Joel chimed in, packing the speaker away.

You smile and shake your head at Tommy’s mumblings and groans.

“I got the rest of this.” Your dad says, walking over and putting a hand on your shoulder. “I got him too.” He gestures to Tommy, who looks like he might actually be asleep now.

“Are you sure?” You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head up to him.

“Mhm.” He hums, looking at the yard then back to you. “Long as you don’t mind helpin’ Joel take some of these chairs back to his house, huh kid?” Joel cleared his throat from a few feet away, eyes locked onto you.

Your stomach sits heavy.

It’s sick, really.

Your dad asking you to help Joel, to be alone, in his house, for who knows how long it takes to put away some damn chairs. While he’s sat taking care of his kid brother.

It’s sick.

It shouldn’t light a fire in your stomach. But it does.

“Y-Yeah. I can help.” You finally choke out.

Your dad smiles and gives you another pat on the back, mumbling a ‘Thanks, kid.’ before turning towards Tommy, slumped in one of the chairs you’d need.

“Get’cher ass up, boy.” Your dad laughed while tugging on his arm and helping him up, taking Tommy's body weight on his own and helping him into the house. The click of the door seems to echo through the quieting houses on the street., you and Joel sharing side glances as you’re left alone.

——

You struggled to keep up with the pace Joel set as he walked towards his house, just four houses down from your dad’s, arms filled with lawn chairs. The lawn chairs now thrown onto the porch, not taking the extra second it’d take to put them away.

He unlocked the front door in one smooth motion and pulled you in the next. He kicked the door shut, hard, with his boot.

His hands are on your hips, whipping you around until your back is pressed against the door, his hips keeping you pinned there. The quick movements pulled the air from your lungs, leaving you to gasp.

“Been teasin’ me all goddamn night.” He hissed, voice thick with frustration.

He leaned back to give his hands some space to roam over the fabric of your nurse costume, his palms warm and broad as they’d skate over the buttons.

His hands stopped at your ribs, his fingertips pressing into the bottom of your breasts.

“Flirtin’ and smilin’ at every boy who looked your way.” He spat while taking both of your wrists into one of his hands and pinning them about your head, knocking his cowboy hat off his head, somewhere behind him.

You gasped, bottom lip quivering. You needed him badly. Pent up after hours of waiting for this- for him. You force a grin, not wanting him to know how easily you’ll fold. You know he loves it, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t too.

“What’re you gonna do about it, cowboy?” You don’t even recognize the sound of your own voice with all the buzzing in your head.

He does though, and he growls in response, pushing his hips firm against yours. His thick cock straining, hard against the denim material, right up against your lower stomach for the second time today. He grits his teeth, his free hand coming to grip the collar or your dress, the warmth of his hand over the exposed skin of your breast makes you whimper.

You arch your back, pushing your chest towards him, silently begging for more contact, just more. He doesn’t give it to you just yet, hand around your wrists tightening, the one on your cheap costume ripping it open, the white buttons bouncing off of the wooden floor.

Your eyes widened as you processed, squirming under his dark stare. Under the shreds of the white dress, your body clad in the white and red, laced get up you so thoughtfully slipped on earlier.

For him.

He knows that, too.

“Gonna remind you who you belong to, pretty girl.” He says lowly, his southern drawl painfully prominent.

Before you get the chance to respond, Joel spins you around, taking your hands that were above your head and pinning them behind your back, still his single hand keeping both of yours pinned there. Your chest pressed against the cool door, the difference of your burning skin against it made you whine. Your back arched, his straining cock now pressed to your ass. Silently you tried to push your hips back onto him.

His free hand came down quickly on your ass, the stinging turning sweet as he rubbed his warm palm over the spot, soothing it.

“Joel!” You squeaked, resting your cheek against the door, face smushing just slightly, stomach turning and pulling.

“Gonna be a good girl now, hm?” He leaned over your back, his lips just dusting the shell of your ear while rocking his hips slowly into yours.

“Y-Yes, Jo-“ He cut you off with another rough smack to the same spot. A yelp bursting through your lips, body slinking back into his.

“Too late for sweet talk, baby girl.” He rasped, his hand not soothing the sting this time, letting it sit and burn your skin.

He pulled back for a moment, the weight of his body being pulled from you made you whine, missing the heavy contact. His hands made work of what was left of costume, discarding it somewhere with his now long forgotten cowboy hat.

It hit you like a ton of bricks. The fact that you’re bent over, pressed against his front door in nothing but a red laced bra, panties, the garter belt and the thigh highs they held up. Joel was still fully clothed, just his hat missing. The thought of being so exposed and vulnerable to him just made the slick between your thighs amplify.

“Fuck.” Joel growled, pushing a sharp breath through gritted teeth. His dark eyes scanned your body, the way the lace dug into the fleshy parts of your skin, thighs spilling slightly out of the tops of the stockings. The large, pink outline of his handprint adorning your ass cheek.

“Look so pretty for me like this, baby.” He muttered.

He let your hands go and you quickly pushed your palms into the door, steadying yourself.

Before you got the chance to beg for his touch, he gave it to you- just not where you needed him. Broad, calloused palms skating up your sides, then back down to rest at your hips. You closed your eyes, scrunching your nose in frustration. A quiet whine fell from your lips as you pushed against the door, grinding your hips against his throbbing cock.

“S’alright, angel. I got you.” He offered reassurance.

“Please- just. Need you. Badly.” You pleaded through soft breaths.

“Tell me where, pretty girl.” He rasped, placing a hand between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned to the door again.

His other hand reached around your torso, palming your breast for a moment, his fingers hooked around the cup of your bra and tugged down, letting your boob spill out. You whined as his fingers found your hardened nipple, his thumb and pointer finger giving it a lazy roll.

A broken whine left your lips, body squirming for any additional friction he’d offer.

“This where you need me?” He asked lowly.

You could just about hear the smirk on his stupid, beautiful, fucking face.

You shook your head.

“Gotta use your words, darlin’.” He reminds you.

“N-No. Not there.” You huffed into the door, his hand still working painfully slow at your nipple.

“So good f’me.” He praises.

In a beat it was gone, his hand trailing down your spine, stopping for a moment to admire his darkening handprint on your ass. The sight made his eyes roll back and his thick cock twitch.

“What ‘bout here?” He asked, his hand trailing further to cup your cunt.

Your knees buckled at the contact, after being teased and left all day, the final contact of his warm palm grinding against your sensitive slick was euphoric. A long string of ‘yesyesyespleaseyesthatsit’ left your lips quickly.

“Atta girl.” He muttered, almost to himself.

Your body writhed under his touch, even when there wasn’t much of it. The anticipation of it was enough.

His index finger dragged slowly up your slick panties, nudging against your covered entrance, a soft, sick, wet noise filling your ears as his finger rubbed slow, torturous circles there.

“S’all for me, angel?” He sucks his teeth sympathetically. “Poor baby, walking ‘round all day like this, huh?” He hums.

You’re embarrassed because it’s true. Even more embarrassed because of him calling you out on it, makes it worse. Heat licks at your core, right where his fingers prodding on the other side of the lace.

“For you- yes. All for you.” You pushed out quickly, your soft moans gracing his ears shortly after.

He tucked two fingers under your panties, slowly tugging them to the side, a growl rumbling deep in his chest at the sight. A thin line of your slick stretching from you to the lace, your cunt and inner thighs glistening from your arousal.

“So pretty.” He said simply, tugging your panties once to keep them out of the way, letting the web fabric snap against your skin.

You grit your teeth, the cool air hitting your wet core, walls clenching around nothing. You could almost sob at how desperately you needed him, chest heaving, heart sitting in the base of your throat, stomach wound in a tight coil.

He leaned over your back, his fingers dipping through your folds, collecting your slick and stopping at your clit.

You cried out against the door, pressing your thighs together, clamping down on his hand.

“You knew damn well what you were doin’ tonight.” He whispered against your ear, his syrupy voice soft against you.

“Paradin’ around in this little thing. Letting that fuckin’-“ His fingers worked in smaller, more concentrated circles at your clit despite your thighs clamping down. “-punk lean in real close. Like he had a chance.”

His voice was hot on your already burning skin, his words doing filthy things to the coil in your belly.

“I-I didn’t-“ You rebuttal.

“Quiet.” He spat, his tone making your breath hitch.

You became painfully aware of how large he was, how big he felt while brooding over you, fingers working at your clit, his wide chest pressed against your back, lips ghosting your ear.The sheer size of his frame against yours made your muscles spasm, a fresh gush of arousal dripping from you and into his palm.

“That's what got you this wet, hm?”

You shook your head.

“What was it then, baby?” He asked, fingers slowly to dip back into your folds, his middle finger circling your entrance before slowly pushing in, your slick allowing him to sink it deep, smoothly.

“Fuck!” You panted, walls spasming around his thick digit.

“Was it when Tommy could’ve caught us? He walked around any later, would’ve seen me fucking you right into that wall. That make your pretty pussy this wet?” His southern drawl rang against your ears, his finger pumping slowly in and out of you, his knuckles shiny with your slick.

“J-Joel, please-“ You begged breathlessly.

You were gratefully cut off by him adding his ring finger. Both of his fingers work at your core, stretching you as he bottoms out to his knuckles. You balled your fist and banged it against the door, trying to release the pent up energy buzzing around in your body.

“Or was it when I had you in the kitchen?”

Fuck.

“Your daddy just on the other side of the wall, while I had that pretty lil’ face’a yours in my hand, smearin’ that fuckin’ lipstick.” He grunted, curling his fingers deep inside you.

Every huff that left your lips ended in a moan, a whine or a plea for him. His beautiful, filthy mouth pushes you closer to your release.

He fucking knows it, too.

He is painfully aware of the effect his sultry words have on you. He weaponizes them every. fucking. time. It’s why he makes sure to let you know how beautiful you look while dripping and shaking for him, how tight, wet, hot, you feel against him, around him, for him.

Only him.

His heart skips a beat, dark eyes locked onto every subtle movement, clocking the way your body reacts. He knows those moans, increasing in volume, being drawn out towards the end. Breathless and fumbling over your own lips.

“That was it.” He states matter of factly.

“Wasn’t it baby?” His fingers twisting, curling and pumping into your wet cunt.

Your arousal pooling in his palm, dripping down his wrist and soaking into the sleeve of his flannel that's pushed up his forearm somewhere.

You swallowed thickly, almost wincing, the amount of pleasure wound in your gut painful.

“Joel I-“

“I know, baby.” He soothes you with his words, fingers giving you no mercy.

“Give it to me, baby girl. Let me feel you squeeze my fingers, yeah?”

Your eyes screw shut, rutting your hips against his fingers. His soaked knuckles brushing against your swollen clit. That swift contact was all you needed to unravel.

“J-Joel, ohfuck-“ You whined out, your fists so tight your nails pressed half moons into the fleshy part of your palm.

The coil deep in your belly snapped.

“I know. Look so pretty cummin’ around my fingers, angel face. S’good for me baby.”

Your knees buckled and he quickly wrapped his free arm around your torso, your skin white hot, supporting your entire weight like it was nothing, keeping you upright. His fingers didn’t change pace, your slick gushing around his digits. The squelching and your moans almost syncing up, all he could think about was how fucking good you felt writhing in his arms.

“I got you, pretty girl. S’okay. Doin’ so good for me.” He praised.

His thick fingers fucked you through your orgasm, your hands squabbling at the door as it became too much. He didn’t let up right away.

“Fuck-“ You’d pant. “Joel, s’too… too much.”

He smiles sweetly behind you, slowing his fingers and finally unsheathing them, a thick string of your cum webbing your cunt to his fingers.

“I know-“ He’d drawl again. “You’re alright. I got you.” He reminded you.

You whined at the loss of his digits, walls clamping around nothing now. Empty. Joel's hand cupped your pulsing heat, rubbing his hand sickeningly slowly. Your body twitched, thighs clamping shut around his hand, broken whines leaving your raw throat.

“Alright, pretty girl. Settle down.”

He removes his hand from your heat completely, smearing your slick on the inside of your thigh before grabbing your waist and slowly turning you to face him.

“There's my girl.” He spoke softly, one hand pressed to the small of your back, holding you to him while the other creeped up your body.

Your eyes were hooded, face flushed, body unsteady and shaking from the orgasm he just ripped from you. His hand cupped your cheek, cool and still slick from you. You turned your face into his palm, parting your plump lips and taking the two fingers that were just fucking you into your mouth.

His groans, eyes dark and wide while he watched your lips close around the base of his knuckles. You could taste your bittersweet cum still clinging there. His fingers prodding the hot flesh at the inside of your cheeks.

“Did so good for me, darlin’.” He reminds you.

You met his eyes, leering up to him through your thick lashes, lids still heavy. You look fucked. Completely and utterly fucked. It makes him throb to know he’s the one who made you look like this.

Mascara and eyeshadow smudged around your eye, a small trail of what looks to be a single tear spilling over one of your cheeks which are now hollowing around his fingers. He studied every small detail, eyes lingering on your mouth, lipstick barely on but just enough to leave a small stain at the base of his knuckles as he slipped his fingers out of your throat. The suction lifting with a small ‘pop’ as his hand returned to cup your cheek, pulling you in for a long, desperate kiss.

“Not done with you yet, baby.” He mumbles into your mouth.

Your lips part to sigh into his. He quickly took the opportunity to roll his tongue into yours. His kissing turned from sweet, long and slow to hungry and needy in no time. Low growls from his throat spilling against your mouth.

“Think you can give me another one?” He pulled back, looking down at you.

His face was red, a slight sheen of sweat sticky around his hairline. His dark curls plastered there, grey hairs adorning them. His hair was messy, tousled and fucking beautiful. That's how he looked. Beautiful, hungry and so fucking filthy at the same time. But god your body was fucking reeling from the first one still. He must’ve sensed your hesitation by the way your eyes widened.

“Know you can, you did so good just then angel face.” His words work overtime in your brain.

“Need to see you cum ‘round my cock. Yeah? S’that sound okay?” He hums, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and tilting your chin up, more and more pieces must have come loose during the past 20 minutes.

“Joel I don’t.. I-I don’t know if I can.” You whimper, hating how pathetic you sound. But he drinks up every bit of it.

He started shaking his head before you even finished.

“I’ve gotcha baby, don’t forget that.” He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before bending at his knees, wrapping his strong arms around you and lifting you up like nothing.

“Joel!” You yelped in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck, giggling into his chest.

You feel him smile against your skin. He’d kick his bedroom door open, sauntering in until his knees came in contact with his bed frame. He crouched over, letting you fall onto your back, mattress bouncing. You sprawled your arms out, his dark grey comforter, your hands balling some of the fabric into your fists. You felt vulnerable in front of him like this. This is far from the first time he has seen you in such scad clothing, but the way he loomed over your body made you feel shy. His large hands pull his flannel from his belt line, unbuttoning and slipping it off. His broad, tanned shoulders are on display. The white beater clung to his sweaty skin, belt buckle hanging at his hips. Just the sight of him made you swoon.

“Keep lookin’ at me like that.” He mutters.

You just can’t take your eyes off his body. The way his muscles flex under his skin while his hands work at unfastening his belt, the large buckle clinking against itself.

“You look so good.” You hum to him, spreading your legs further apart as he stands between them. The insides of your thighs are warming from the friction of his jeans rubbing against them.

He chuckles, pulling his belt from its loops in one quick motion. Your stomach tightens. Your hands are moving before you can notice, fingers splayed outwards, reaching for his torso. He drops the belt on the floor with a clatter. He lets you reach, even leaning down and pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of your head. You tilted your head up to pull him into a kiss that's soft at first until he sinks his teeth into your lower lip. You hissed as he pulled it back, letting it snap back to its place. The noise only made him smirk. Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper of his blue jeans. Frantically pushing them down his hips. He helps you by kicking them off with his boots.

“Joel-” He cuts you off with a kiss before pulling back and looking down at you.

“Please.” You were over his slow and calculated moves. You needed him to take you here and now.

He doesn’t answer, even when you pull his beater off and run your fingers down his torso, tugging at the band of his boxers.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He finally speaks up, voice slow and steady.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Of course you’re his. You sighed softly while nodding.

“I’m yours, Joel.”

“Repeat it.” He demands.

“I’m yours.” You obey.

“Those college boys couldn’t make you feel the way I do.” He’s not asking. It was true.

He pushes your bodies up the bed, now kneeling into the mattress, his thighs pressed into the bottoms of yours, his lips connecting with your collar.

“They couldn’t make you cum with their fingers like I can.” Another true statement.

Your legs wrapped loosely around his waist, digging your heels into the backs of his legs, coaxing his hips to make contact with yours, the throb of your cunt doing everything but dulling.

“No, only you.” You reassure him, slipping your hands to the back of his head, curling the hair at the nape of his neck around your index fingers.

“Only me.” He repeats, growling.

“You sure you know that? Was lettin’ that Cody kid hang ‘round for some time.” He continued, his lip curling at the thought.

He was jealous. Even while he was fucking his fingers into you minutes ago, he couldn’t help that quick memory of Cody holding your arm, leaning in close. The way you let him.

You knew Joel was jealous, but this made your heart skip a beat.

“You think he’d like to see you like this, hm?”

Your breath caught in your throat, shaking your head ‘no’.

“You want him to?”

“No.” You breathed out.

“Want him to hear you?” He whispered, peppering kisses across your chest, licking a fat stripe from there to the spot below your jaw, then blowing cool air over the damp skin.

You shiver and he speaks up again before you can answer.

“Want him to hear you cummin’ on my cock? Hear how wet your pussy is while I fuck you?”

You shake your head again, rocking your hips in the direction of his.

His words stirred around your brain. God, how long was he thinking about you and Cody? The five minute interaction burned permanently into Joel’s brain. He couldn’t stand looking at a boy touching you like that. That's not how you like to be touched, Joel knows how you like to be touched. Only Joel.

“That boy wouldn’t know the first thing to do with you.” He sucks a small hickey into the side of your neck.

“With this.” he mumbles against your skin, pushing his teeth into the flesh. One of his large hands cupping your sex again.

You whined at the contect, almost sure he could feel you throbbing in his palm.

“Only you, Joel.” You moaned softly.

“Damn right, darlin’.”

He couldn't contain himself anymore.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

He heard you say it a million times.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

Was the only thing ringing through his ears.

He stood up quickly, pulling your panties and garter belt off, fast. Fast enough for them to burn down your legs. As good as it looked on you, he needed it off. He needed to feel your skin against his, not the scratchy lace fabric. He pulls your bra over your head, not caring how awkward it was. He needed it off. He needed you. He groaned at the sight of you beneath him, body squirming in anticipation on the bed. His cock throbbed in his boxers, pre cum staining the fabric with a wet spot.

“Please,please,please” You murmur, reaching your hands out again to push his boxers down his hips. He lets you, kicking them off the rest of the way.

He sucks a sharp breath through his teeth as his cock springs free, bobbing against his stomach. You’ve seen him plenty of times but it never mattered. His cock thick, tip red and glistening with his pre. You rolled your hips up, feeling your slick drip from your folds, flooding the comforter beneath you.

“Please what, baby?” He teases and you cuss under your breath.

As much as he loves talking you through it, he loves eliciting your voice too. No matter how broken or pathetic it may sound. Your pleading and promises ‘to be good’ drive him fucking insane.

He wraps his strong hand around the base of his cock. Dark, wiry hairs brushing his knuckles as he pumps himself. A hearty groan falling past his lips.

“Joel. I need- Please,” You breathe out.

“Fuck me, please.” You push out your words before whining.

He doesn’t say anything but position himself as close as possible to you, his thighs under yours again.

“Fuck.” He drawls, slipping the tip of his cock through your soaked cunt.

You’re white knuckling his bed spread, rocking your hips into him. He purses his lips before parting them, letting the tip of his tongue fall past them. A hot, thick drip of his saliva spilling off his tongue and onto your pussy.

The sight was fucking dirty. But him tapping the head of his cock along the spit, dragging it against your clit was downright filthy.

Quickly your hands left the sheet, squabbling at his strong shoulders before gripping them, pressing your nails into his hot skin.

“Y’look so pretty. Soaking my bed like this, baby.” He gruffs.

His words could eat you alive right now.

“Joel-” You warn him, your walls clenching around nothing, needy and weeping.

He guides the tip of his cock to your entrance, prodding there before stuffing the tip past your tight cunt. The muscles in your stomach tightens, rapid breaths breaking up your moans.

“Feel good, baby?” He swallows, trying to keep his composure.

Slowly he sinks his hips into yours, his thick cock stretching you. You wince as he bottoms out, the sharp burn making your vision blurry. Full. You felt so full of him. This is the feeling you’ve been missing for these long two weeks. No matter how hard you tried, your own fingers in your bed did no justice. You’re not sure anything would amount to the pleasure of being stuffed to the brim with his cock. His heavy, sweat sheened body hovering over yours.

You nod your head. “Y-Yes.” You babble while nodding your head sloppily.

You were grateful for the moment he gave you to adjust, the burn turning sickly sweet. Your hips rolled, now begging for friction.

“S’good, pretty girl. Y’fit my cock so good. Like you were made f’me.” He breathes while slowly drawing his hips back, and pushing them back into the hilt.

He established a paced thrust, his tongue wetting his lips in concentration, his eyes focused on how slick his cock is with you when he draws out.

You felt the air knocking out of your lungs with every thrust, whining steady pouring from the back of your throat. Your eyes rolled shut, nails pressing harshly into his shoulders. His hips didn’t slack as he pushed your hands off him, his hands pulling your legs to rest on them now, ankles on opposite sides of his shoulders. The new angle pushing him deeper in your cunt, the room filling with his grunts and the sick squelch of your arousal.

“Open your eyes. Look at me.” He grits, picking up his thrusts, the new position making his cock strain against your tight walls.

You were too drunk on his cock to listen. Your eyes still screwed shut, mouth falling open, fucking filthy sounds falling. Until you felt a sting on your cheek, your eyes opened wide, greeted with his face. His hand made contact with your cheek again, but didn’t leave it. His burning skin is boring into your reddening cheek. He grips your jaw roughly.

“Said-” He groans, hips slapping against the back of your thighs. “Fuckin’ look at me.” His dark eyes locked onto yours.

You swallowed tightly, the coil in your lower stomach binding quickly.

“Open.” He says, pressing his thumb into your lower jaw.

You whine as his thrusts cease. He’s leaning over your frame, legs still propped on your shoulders as he's practically folding you in half. You whine and open your mouth, tongue sitting on your lower lip, welcoming the string of his saliva he drips over you. It's hot on your tongue. It tastes like whiskey and him. You let your tongue display it for him, closing your lips around it when he taps your tender cheek roughly with the hand that's there, signaling you to do so. Then you swallow.

He grits at the sight, resuming his thrusts like he hadn't stopped. He's even setting a new debilitating pace, one that makes the muscles in the undersides of your thighs burn.

“Fuck, y’so good for me, baby.” His praises make your walls squeeze his cock.

The familiar pit in your stomach rumbles. You won't last long the way his hot breath tickles the inside of your ankles. The ruthless pace he set with his thrusts. The thought of his spit lingering on your tongue while he fucks you senseless.

“I-I’m close, Joel.. Fuck- Harder.” You tell him, moaning loudly.

“Yeah? Want to cum on my cock, pretty girl? Fuck-.” The hand on your cheek leaves to brush some of your hair from your face. A loving gesture while he's manhandling you otherwise. His hand settles on the top of your shoulder, giving him leverage to fuck you deeper, harder.

His free hand glides down your shin and onto your thigh, his fingers pressing harshly into your flesh. The pain dragging a breathless moan of his name from you. He could listen to that all fucking day.

You try to answer him, the words coming out as a blubbering mess. You aren’t able to think straight while hes fucking you, drunk on him.

“Squeezing my cock so good, angel face. Such a good girl.” He presses a wet, sloppy kiss to your inner ankle, the hand at your thigh wrapping around in, his broad palm splaying across your lower stomach.

Fuck.

His jaw falls slack, his own stomach churning at the feeling. The feeling of his cock pounding into you under his palm.

“Need y’to cum for me baby. Give it to me, c’mon.” He encourages you, his hand slipping lower, thumb making contact with your clit.

You can barely make out his figure, sight going white when you feel his thumb. He barely moves it, just adding pressure right above the sensitive bud. THe ruthless movement of his hips jolt your body with every thrust. He's holding out for you, he doesn’t want to finish until you’ve given him another, and he tells you just that.

“Need one more baby, know you can do it. Cum on my cock. Let me feel you.” He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold on.

You dont last any longer. He rips a second orgasm from you. Your body white hot and shaking as he fucks you through it. His name leaves your lips repeatedly, not knowing anything else in this moment other than him.

Joel. Joel. Joel.

“Fuck, yeah.” He pants. “That's a good girl. Easy. Cumming for me so- shit.” His hips sputter as he nears his own high, his thumb now working small circles on your clit, riding you through your high. “S’good. S’fucking tight- ah, fuck.”

Your body burns, muscles sore as he relentlessly fucks into you, breathing rapidly while his thumb works quick to overstimulate you. Tears welling in your eyes, threatening to spill.

“Cum in me-” The first coherent words you blurt out other than his name in a while. “F-Fill me- fuck, Joel. Please.” You pant, head turned into his wrist, teeth grazing his skin.

That was all he needed. “God- fuckin’.”

Both of his hands grabbed your hips hard, keeping you still as he fucks his hips into you, cock throbbing and twitching as he cums, thick ropes filling your cunt.

Full.

He collapsed against you, his forehead falling to yours, folding you in half again, his hips staying buried deep in you. Your legs are shaking around him.

You both stayed like that for a few beats, breaths slowing, chests no longer heaving. After another moment, Joel lifted his head, pressing soft kisses to your forehead and down your cheeks. Your body felt limp, quivering under him.

“Hey, hey.” Joel whispered after he's taken a look at you, brows knitting in concern.

“Look at me, baby.” He takes your face in both his hands, slowly slipping himself from your throbbing cunt.

Your face scrunches, still so sensitive from your last orgasm, and the feeling of being empty again makes a tear spill over your cheek.

“Talk to me, hun.” He pleads, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on your face, swiping your tears away.

You felt distant, your mind clouded. It was painful to not have him stuffed to the hilt, prodding spots so deep you’d have never known they were there. The warmth between your thighs making you whine, his spend leaking from your cunt.

“Baby, I need you to tell me you hear me.” He coo’s, hands cradling your head while he continues to pepper kisses against your skin. “Was I too much?” He blinks lovingly at you.

You sigh deeply, his continued touches to your face grounding you, your vision slowly coming back to you.

He's sweaty. His hairs stuck to his forehead. His eyebrows sewn together as he tries to read your face. He looks spent. His face is flush, features relaxing as you stir beneath him.

“Mmh.” You hum and nod your head once.

Joel lets out a sigh of relief. “I got you. Let me clean you up, angel face.”

He pulled himself off of you, steadying himself on his legs before making his way to the bathroom.

Your thighs twitch as your eyes dart around, fingers sprawling across his comforter. You turned your head to take a deep breath in, your nose filled with the smell of him.

Clean blanket, smoke and cedar.

Joel.

He returns a moment later with a warm, wet rag. “C'mere sweetheart,” He whispers, sitting in the bed next to you.

He slowly pats the warm rag against your face, cleaning the smudged and running makeup. You watched him closely. His eyes are soft, no longer harsh and black. They were big and doe like. The soft brown hue back. He gently dragged it down your neck, torso and then the insides of your thighs. You hissed, the skin there sensitive.

“Shh. S’okay. Did s’good for me. Gave me everythin’ you had. Looked so beautiful doin’ it.” He whispers, his gruff voice rolling softly from his swollen lips.

He gently wiped his spend between your thighs, turning the rag over until you were clean. He leaned over to toss it in his hamper, turning his full attention to you.

“Thank you, darlin’.” He lays on his back, pulling you into his side. You curl into him, your head nestled under his arm, nose brushing the side of his chest.

“Thank you, Joel.” You finally whisper, feeling more grounded, more present.

He chuckles, craning his neck to look at you, the arm under your head curling around your body, tracing his fingers against your skin.

“There's my girl.” he whispered into your hair.

The two of you laid there for some time, damp bodies intertwined. Joel whisperering sweet praises. Sharing sweet, soft kisses here and there.

Until your phone vibrates. You fish it from the sheets.

Dad.

Your heart drops, turning the screen to Joel and he gives a sympathetic smile.

“Hey.” You answer swiftly. Act normal. You’re not laying naked with his best friend.

“Hey, kid. Did you help Joel out?”

Your throat tightens. But you remind yourself that is what you were supposed to do. Just not how your dad thinks.

“Yes.” You blurt out bluntly.

“Well, alright.. Are you still there? Been a while. Just checkin’ on you.” He asked, voice wavering a bit. He's waiting for you to fill in the spaces so he doesn't have to ask. But you don’t.

“Nope. Left after dropping off the chairs.” You roll your eyes and Joel gives you a squeeze.

Your dad didn’t say anything. He’s asking where you are without seeming like he’s prodding.

“Went out with Cody,” You say quickly. “I’ll be out late. But not too late. I’ll be safe. I’m okay.”

You barely take a breath between your words. Joel's eyebrows lift at your mention of Cody, he's sucking his teeth quietly.

“Oh! Well-uh.. Well, alright kid. Be uh. Be safe and good y’know. Can’t leave Tommy. He’s in bad shape. Call Joel if you need anything. He won’t mind helpin’ you out.” He says, speaking just as quickly as you did.

“Okay, thanks. Bye, dad.” You hang up before he can answer, tossing your phone on the bedside table with a groan. You turned back into Joel and buried your face in his chest.

“Out with Cody, hm?” He teases, wiggling his fingers on your side.

“Did you want me to tell him I’m laid up naked next to his best friend?” You quipped.

Joel opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. He shook his head.

“Thought so.” You scrunch your nose at him, stretching up to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“Said I’d still be a while.. He told me to call you if I needed anything.” You continue, lifting yourself to straddle his lap, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips, hands splayed on his torso.

Joel sighed, sinking into the bed, one arm folding behind his head, the other resting on the top of your thigh. His eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Did he now?” He clicks his tongue.

“Said you wouldn’t even mind helpin’ me out.”

“I wouldn’t.” He chuckles, hand rubbing slowly on your thigh.

You sit there and bask in each other's smiles before his drops, his body stirring beneath yours.

“Think you can give me one more before you go, hm?” He asks, your stomach does a flip.

“Joel- no way.” You laugh, prodding a finger into his chest. “M’still sore.”

He shook his head before removing the pillow behind it.

“C’mere n’ sit on my face. Lemme kiss you better.” He muses and your face drops, trying to read his expression if he was serious or not, his hand on your thigh pulling you up his torso.

“Don't mind helpin’ you out.” He repeats your earlier words with a smirk.

✨

He shakes his head with a soft sigh, placing the bags in there and shutting the door.

“Kick the air on. It’s hot.” He tosses you the keys while turning to push the cart back to its return spot.

You grab the keys out of the air and roll your eyes when you turn, climbing into the passenger seat and reaching over the console to stick the keys in the ignition and turn them. The engine rumbles and you turn the dial for the AC. You almost gag when it first blows the hot air right back into your face.

“Kick the air on, it’s hot.” You grumble to yourself, turning your lips into a frown to mock his permanent scowl. “Like I don’t fucking know that.” You continue, picking at your thumb nails while Joel settles into the driver's side.

You can see him looking at you from the corner of your eye and it’s pissing you off. For no reason. He hasn’t done anything that he can remember, or that you can remember for that instance. But there's just a nagging feeling deep in your stomach and the way he’s breathing is pissing you off right now.

“Y’wanna order from that taco place tonight?” Joel glances over his shoulder at you before pulling away.

“Why would we order? We just went shopping.” You barely look at him while gesturing to the bags behind your seat.

Joel grunts and shrugs his shoulders.

What the fuck was he doing? You quickly dart your eyes over to him before focusing back to picking around your nails, just wanting to be home and out of whatever mood you’re stuck in.

“Yeah. But I know you like that place when.. Y’know..” He trails off and glances at you before turning back to the road.

You pinch your face in confusion, looking up from your nails but still not at him- just straight ahead into the dashboard. You’re honestly speechless for a moment because you know if you open your mouth right away it won’t be nice. You suck in a deep breath and exhale, letting your shoulders relax.

“When do I like it?” You finally ask in a short breath.

“When you have your period.” Joel says a little quieter while keeping his eyes on the road.

“I don’t have my period.” you say flatly, annoyed that he’d even say that.

“Y’don’t?”

“No, Joel. I don’t.” You retort, laced with tone.

“Hm.” He grunts, slowly nodding his head.

The drive is silent for the next few moments, other than the soft hum of the air and the occasional grunt from his truck.

“Shouldn’t you?” He speaks up once stopping at a red light.

“What?” You bite.

“Have your period. Shouldn’t you?” He asks while his thick brows saddle together.

“Are you serious right now?” You turn towards him in your seat while he slowly starts driving again once the light turns green.

“Yeah, baby.”

He says it so simply that it digs under your skin.

“I’m not supposed to have it for a while.” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Then what is botherin’ you? Actin’ like I pissed in your wheaties this mornin’ or somethin’.”

You groan and toss your head back into the seat while digging your phone out of your shorts pocket and scrolling through to find your tracking app.

“You’re assuming you know more about my own body is pissing me off even more.” you speak quickly while tapping on the app icon and waiting for it to pull up.

“C’mon now, sweetheart. I ain’t say all that. You got a damn attitude with me all day.” He mumbles while you speak over him.

“An attitude? Oh, you think I’ve got an attitude now just you wait-” You pause abruptly when the graphic finally loads on your phone.

Joel turns his head lazily, expecting you to finish your remark but pinches his face in confusion when he sees your jaw hanging open.

“What?” He questions.

Seven days late. No fucking way. You feel a hard lump form immediately in your throat, heart drumming quickly against your chest.

“We need to stop at a drug store on the way home.” You say flatly, sure that your face has an expression of pure horror if you were to check.

“Can you tell me what's goin’ on in that head’a yours?” He says sternly.

“I’m late.” You blurt out, looking blankly onto the street.

Until the car jerks. Joel being a little heavy footed on the break at the red light.

“You’re what?” He raises his voice in surprise.

“I’m late.” You say a little louder. Shoving your phone back into your pocket.

You feel sick. You didn’t feel like that five minutes ago.. Could you be? No. No fucking way. You can’t even let yourself think of that. 

“How late?”

“Seven days.” You mumble.

He’s not being mean. At all. Even if he was being annoying he’es not being mean now but tears sting your waterline anyways. You’re scared. Of course you and Joel have talked about it before but never seriously, and no plans were ever made.

“Jesus.” He mutters.

That makes a tear spill. Not happy. Not chastising. But dismissive enough to make your mind reel. Even if it wasn’t meant to be that way. That one tear leads to another, and more slowly starts to roll down your warm cheeks. You don’t sob or gasp for air like you usually do when you’re crying, but you can’t stop these tears. They’re flowing freely despite constantly wiping them with the back of your hands. Joel turns into the next drug store you pass and pulls into a spot. Without a word you step out of the car, biting down on the inside of your lip to suppress any more tears while you’re in the store, closing the door on Joel when he says your name. You move without thinking, your legs taking you to the right aisle to pick up one of these dumb blue boxes. There's so many of them. Your feet pull you away once you grab a pack of six. Your feet stop you at the back of the line and your mind runs wild.

Okay.. It’s fine. Just a few days late. Stress can do that, you know. Stress willa absolutely make you a few days late.. But seven? A whole week late? Can stress push you back a whole week?

You swallow thickly and take a step forward in line, eyes darting around to make sure no one can hear what you’re thinking. You instinctively hide the box's logo against your chest while you wait in line.

Don’t make eye contact. Fucking, please do not make eye contact. You’re not the first person to buy one. Everyone buys them. Okay not everyone, but enough. Enough people buy them. They’ve probably sold ten just today. Are they looking at you? It feels like they’re all looking at you. No. No one’s looking. They’re not looking. Stop it.

“Excuse me?”

You snap your head in the direction of the voice.

“Hi.” You blurt out, eyes wide.

“I can check you out.”

Your feet take you there. The transaction is quick and painless. That's all you could have asked for. The drive back is silent. You don’t know which you’d prefer right now though. As much as you’d like to hear Joel say everything is okay, the silence is okay, too. The silence continues. All the way from the car and into the house and up to the bathroom. Joel stands just behind you while your shaky fingers pry open the box. You pause and look back at him.

“Look..” you start off, voice shaky. “ I know this is a lot and I’m sorry I didn’t catch it sooner and I completely understand that this will change our entire lives and you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, that’s completely your choice but I just want to let you know that I won’t be-”

“Woah, woah.” Joel speaks up, placing both of his hands on your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. “You gotta breathe, darlin’.” 

You deeply inhale and slowly exhale while letting your shoulders drop. He gives you a soft squeeze.

“You think I’d up n’ leave you if that test was positive, hm?” He leans in and talks softly.

Your lower lip quivers just at the thought. “I wouldn’t blame you.” You whisper.

“You’re breakin’ my damn heart.” He tells you, whispering in the same tone. “Not leavin’ you no matter what that test says, darlin’. We’ve talked about this.”

He lowers his head to catch your gaze.

“Not seriously.” You point out in a quiet voice. 

“It was serious to me.” He says, voice firm but still kind. 

You lift your head to catch his eyes. 

“It was serious to me.” He repeats once locking onto your gaze. “I meant everything I ever said about it.” He smooths his hands down your shoulders to your elbows before engulfing you in his arms. 

You crumple into his chest and relish in it. In how firm he feels beyond the soft fabric of his shirt. He’s steady and strong like he always is. No wavering in his voice or an uptick in how his heart beats against his ribs. He means it. He pulls away after a beat, lifting your head with a soft nudge to your chin. 

“C’mon now. Let’s take it.” He says while reaching behind him for the box. 

He brings it between you and slowly unboxes it, letting you take the stick while he unfolds the miles of instructions. He makes a few remarks about it that ultimately earn a quiet laugh from you and he takes that as a win. 

“This will probably be the longest five minutes of my life.” You mumble while pulling your pants back up and placing the stick face down on the sink counter. 

You run the water warm while lathering your hands with soap. Joel stands behind you and slips his thick arms around your waist to clasp just at your belly button. You lift your head and look at him through the mirror in front of you. He hums while placing his chin on the top of your head slowly swaying you once you’re done drying your hands. 

“Can’t wrap my head ‘round it.” He mumbles into your hair.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows while leaning back into his chest, still keeping eye contact through the mirror.

“That you could be growin’ somethin’ in here.” He pushes one of his hands under your shirt to sprawl over your lower belly. 

His broad, calloused hand is warm against your skin. You place both of your hands over his one, lifting up your shirt just slightly while you look down.

“Doesn’t sound so scary when you say that.” You say playfully. 

He chuckles and slowly rubs his hand against your belly, his other coming down to rest on the swell of your hip. He continues to lead the lazy sway, pulling you right against him. He leans down every so often to press a kiss. To your head through your hair. Against the back of your shoulder. In the crook of your neck. And when you turn to smile he makes sure to catch your lips. 

“Ready, sweetheart?” He asks after looking down at his watch. 

You force a large breath out of your nose before nodding. 

“As I’ll ever be.”

Joel leans forward to grab the test, keeping it face down as he brings it in front of you. He rests his chun against your shoulder, holding the test there.

“You just say the word, baby.” He says while giving you a squeeze to your hip. 

“Ready.” You mumble, body going rigid as he turns the test over. 

He flips it.

You grab it with both of your hands and hold it closer, squinting at the small screen. 

“Your big head’s in the way-“

“Negative.” You interrupt him.

He pauses behind you. No longer swaying, his hold is heavy on your waist.

“That’s good.. Right?” You whisper while turning the test over a few times. 

“Is that what you want?” He asks while watching you through the mirror.

“I..” You sigh and continue to stare at the test. “I thought I was.” You whisper. “Did you want it to be positive?”

Joel pushes a long exhale through flared nostrils while placing his hands on your lower belly. His large palms sprawled across your skin, his thumbs rubbing gently while he pondered.

“The thought of your belly swellin’ up with our baby makes me want it to be positive.” He says quietly.

The rest of the night was quiet. His words eat away at your brain. Overthinking every small action and comment from the past few months. Dinner was quiet, too. You couldn’t help but imagine Joel with your baby on his hip while he's watching baseball, while he’s cooking breakfast or walking around the store in the baby aisles. You’d be lying if it didn’t spark that same curiosity as Joel mentioned. Having your belly swell all filled with his baby. It wasn’t until the both of you were tucked away in bed when you asked;

“Should we try?”

You’ve never seen him change that quickly. Brows flat to mimic the press of his lips. He thought for all of 2 seconds before pinning your body into the mattress under the weight of his.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout this.” He mumbled into your neck while pressing hot kisses there.

You breathe out shakily, one hand planting itself in his short, dark hair while the other pressed half moon indents into his shoulder. He worked down the length of your torso quickly, pushing clothing up and out of the way to connect his hot mouth to your burning skin, small wet patches left in its wake. 

“Gonna work you up before I fuck you, alright sweetheart?” He mumbles while pulling your pants down your thighs so quickly the fabric burns at your skin.

“Fuck-“ You hiss at just how rough hes being. “Yes, Joel.” You whimper while propping yourself up onto your elbows, both hands now gripping the sheets beneath you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.” He whispers between your thighs.

His breath fanned over your core in such a familiar way it made your stomach tighten.

“Joel-“ You whined.

He was taking his time, spreading your folds apart with his thumbs and watching the thin strings of your arousal web you all together. But the second you drone his name, his mouth is on you. Low and slow. The flat of his tongue dragging over your throbbing hole several times before teasing just the tip past the threshold. You writhe beneath him at the feeling, rutting your hips into his face. He welcomes it with a groan, his strong arms slipping under your thighs and curling on top of them to hold them in place, on either side of his head. 

Joel reels back from your cunt and you peer down to him. He’s not even looking at you. His eyes are heavy, parted lips and his beard already glistening in the soft light of the bedroom. He’s not carrying any stress on his face like he usually does- but the concentration of his saddled brows shows you he means business. He tightens his grip on your thighs, bringing his thumbs from the top to spread you once again. Joel blows cool air over your exposed, dripping cunt and it draws an absolutely filthy whine from you. He doesn’t let you live in that for a minute before he purses his lips and spits directly onto your clit. 

“Fuck!” You hiss, twitching against his iron grip. 

He silences you by delving forward and wrapping his plump lips around that swollen clit and sucking softly. Your mouth is left agape, jaw slacked in awe at the pleasure coursing through your body. Joel closes his eyes and works his mouth expertly, savoring the taste of you, how warm and clean, soft and utterly you it tastes. He savors your noises, too. The drawn out, longing moans and gasps when he circles his tongue against your swollen clit before sucking it back between his lips. 

He doesn’t move until he’s drawn an orgasm from you. Shaky hands buried deep in his hair, tugging at the lochs from the base of his skull. He finally pulls his head back, holding your shaking thighs down with no effort. 

“Took it so nice, pretty girl.” He muses while pressing a few kisses to the inside of your thigh. 

You clamp one of your hands over your mouth to muffle the cries and hitching of your breath. Joel brings himself to his knees, still between your thighs and pulls your hand away from your mouth.

“Don’t go hidin’ any of those pretty little sounds from me.” He tuts while pushing his pants down his hips with his free hand. 

His thick cock springs free and slaps the base of his belly. It’s red and throbbing with pre smeared around his tip. 

“Please, Joel.” You beg quietly while scooting down on the bed to get closer to him, your knees bent over the tops of his thighs.

“I got you, baby.” He soothes while smoothing his large palm from your knee to the top of your thigh and around to grip your hip.

You squirm beneath him in anticipation, able to feel the sheer heat radiating from his cock against your pussy. He grips the base of his cock and slips it through your soaked fold with a guttural groan coming from deep in his chest. Joel tightens his hold on your hip while pushing his tip against your needy hole. No matter how many times he does this, the first push still stings. You don’t think you’ll ever adjust to the full size of him. Part of you is grateful because the second that sore sting turns sweet, everything else is gone. He’s all you can think of. 

“Grippin’ me so good already.” He grunts while sinking into you.

Stretch doesn’t begin to explain it. It’s the ache between your hips that you’ll feel for days. Even after years and years of taking him in every way imagineable. It’s still there. You gasp as he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to yours. Joel groans through a tight jaw, leaning forward and bowing his head.

“I know, darlin’..” He muses while lifting his head.

He stays pushed in your cunt, rolling his hips against yours without actually thrusting, just making sure he feels each and every bit of your slick walls around him.

“P-Please, Joel.” You mutter through a stuttered breath while digging your heels into the mattress to lift your hips.

He tuts his tongue and shakes his head, broad palms moving to cup the backside of your knees and pushing them together.

“Please? Please what, baby?” He mocks in a sweet tone. 

He forces your knees towards your chest while sitting up on his own. He moves his right hand to knead the flesh at the underside of your thigh, your knees being pushed towards your chest with only one of his now. 

“Say it.” He orders in a low voice while sinking his thick fingers into your thigh. 

“Fucking move.” You hiss at him through clenched teeth. 

A low chuckle rumbles through his chest before his grip tightens and he finally draws his hips back slowly, then pushing them back in with force. It wasn’t fast or sloppy. It was calculated with his entire weight behind each thrust. He knows how you love it. His hands keep you slow despite the squirming and writhing beneath him, giving him the leverage he needed to fuck into you good.

His brows are saddled together, face pinches up in pleasure as he keeps his eyes locked onto where your bodies meet- watching his cock disappear within your slick folds over and over and over again. Concentrating. Putting thought into every thrust. Every time he pulls back he grunts, in disbelief of just how soaked he is with you. 

“Jesus, baby girl.” He heaved, hips starting to pick up their pace while he lost himself in you. 

You felt your eyes flutter, almost rolling to the back of your head while he pounded you into the mattress, keeping you all folded up for him to use. 

“Y’had such a fuckin’ attitude earlier.” He chides, his hand leaving your thigh. “Should’ve taken you right there in the truck, hm? That’s what you wanted, right?” He pants.

You nod lazily, hair sticking to the sweat starting to bead on your forehead, a filthy moan slipping past your lips. Your body jerks with each of his ruthless thrusts, knocking a small noise from the back of your throat that he absolutely ate up. He dreams about these noises. The way they grow closer together, breathless and tick up a pitch before you unravel on him. He tightens his grip on the back of your knees and forces them closer to your chest just thinking about it. 

Joel doesn’t crane over your bent legs anymore, he sits up straight with no hiccup in his thrusts, the hand that was at your thigh coming to rub concentrated circles onto your clit. 

“Fuck- Joel.” You say breathily, opening up your heavy eyes to watch him.

“Yeah? You gonna cum, sweet girl?” He recognized that look in your eyes right away. 

Glossy. Pupils blown black. Heavy lids and those pretty little red veins more prominent. The way your face contorted in pleasure when his thrusts became relentless, sloppy and chasing after his high he felt building in his stomach.

“Yes. Shi- I-.. Please.” You arch your back away from the mattress while Joel’s thumb continues to work in those steady circles despite his thrusts losing their rhythm. 

“Go on n’ make a mess, baby.” He encourages you while grunting something guttural. “I got you- fuck.” He bows his head for a moment, desperate to hold on until you’ve finished around him. “Fuckin’ cum on my cock, sweet girl.”

“Joel.. Joel- Fuck-“

His words pulled you over the edge, coaxing that white hot feeling to bubble over. Your walls spasm around his girth, legs shaking as he ruthlessly pounds into you, the loud thwack, thwack, thwack of his hips colliding with the back of your thighs not loud enough to drown out your lewd, languid moans.

“That’s it-“ He grunts, stilling his thumb and instead of circling he just adds pressure onto the small bud. “Sounds so pretty.” He pants while brooding over you. 

Your body involuntarily jerks and jolts under him while he fucks you through your second orgasm. 

“Need you to cum in me, Joel.” You speak up in a daze, voice broken. 

“Yeah? Want me to fill up this tight pussy, hm? Fuck a baby into you?” He gravels and you whimper at just how filthy his words are. 

You can see the concentration on his face, the beading sweat at his temples that makes his dark hair stick there. 

“Please, Joel, please.” You beg him repeatedly, hands scrambling for someone to grab a hold of.

“Gonna make it fuckin’ stick.” He spit, hips sputtering.

He quickly removes his thumb from your clit and wedges his hands between your thighs and your belly, pressing his palm into your navel.

“You fuckin’ feel that?” He asks you, folding you in half with his hand sandwiched between you. 

You do. The pressure on your belly only emphasizes how deep he is inside of you. You screw your eyes shut, trying your best to soak him in and memorize every vein, every ridge and how it feels being fucked into you repeatedly.

“Gonna fill you up so nice- fuck. Give you a fuckin’ baby. So fuckin’ nice, I promise.” His voice wavers. 

He curses through teeth clenched so tight they could crack before slamming his hips into you one last time, putting all his weight into holding himself there, buried deep inside you to the hilt. He spills into you with a deep groan. The coil in the pit of his stomach snaps, ropes of his thick white cum coating your insides. Joel hisses while relaxing, the crease between his brows softening while he slowly pulls back, but not out.

He releases his hold on your knees, letting them fall on either side of his hips but keeps his one hand planted on your belly. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, unable to control your breathing while he does the same, still towering over your lithe frame in the mattress. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers while letting himself collapse forwards, one hand coming to press into the bed next to your head to support himself. 

You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off with a kiss. It’s warm and wet, loving but sloppy and needy. 

“My god.” You whisper against his lips and he chuckles before pulling back.

He rubs his calloused palm into the soft skin of your tummy and you can feel just how full you are. 

“Think it’ll stick this time?” You ask while he leans in to press hot kisses to the nape of your neck.

He pushes his hips against yours, still tucked away inside.

“I wouldn’t be upset if I had to do this a few more times, pretty baby.” He mumbled against your skin and you could feel the sly smile at the corners of his lips.

You hum, sighing softly as you feel him twitch inside you.

“Try again to make sure?” You say, voice barely above a whisper.

He pauses what he’s doing, slowly lifting his head to look at you, one of his eyebrows arched.

“Where are you?” You blurt out the second the ringing line pauses, and you hear the soft rumble of his truck on the other line.

He chuckles lowly before responding.

“M’sorry, darlin’. I left you a note.”

“A note? What note?” Your voice is hoarse and tickles the back of your throat.

“On the bedside.”

You rub the sleep from your eyes and whip your head around. Sure enough there is a little sticky note sat there with something scratched into it. You lean over with a grunt and scratch it up to read:

‘Had to take a job. Call you when I’m done. :)’

The little smiley faces eyes were so damn crooked, but it made your heart warm.

“Fuck. Sorry, Joel.” You whisper into the line.

“No reason t’be sorry, darlin’.” He says smoothly.

“Wait- Did Ellie catch you?” Immediately all your senses are at an all time high as you sit on the edge of your mattress.

“I’m stealthier than I look. I promise.” He chuckles into the phone. “No, she didn’t see me.” You could practically hear the smile on his lips.

You close your eyes and exhale slowly.

“Okay..” You trail off.

The both of you are silent over the staticky line. Just the sound of his truck driving on the road for a moment.

“What are you doing today?” Joel is the one to break the silence.

“Nothing. Frank cut me from my shift today. I guess as a thanks for last night.”

Joel hums in acknowledgement even if he still doesn’t know the specifics of what happened yet.

“Do you need me to take you to your car this morning? Drove past it on my way to the job and it’s still standing.”

A small smile curls the corner of your mouth while you search through your drawers to put on clothes for the day. It feels nice, Joel’s voice filling your room while doing something so mundane. It’s calm.

“No, I don’t need my car at all this morning.”

“Alright. Can I pick you up ‘round four tonight? I’ll take you to it then. How’s that sound, sweetheart?” The way the multitude of sweet names roll off his tongue makes your stomach flutter.

“That sounds just fine to me.” You bite back a too wide smile that he can’t even see.

You could easily walk to get your car, Joel knows that. But him offering to take you to it makes you want to let him.

“Alright.” Joel muses, satisfactory.

“Alright.” You repeat his words in a light tone.

“You have a good day, baby.”

“You too, Joel.”

You hang up and cover your face with your hands and make a small squealing noise out of excitement. Sure, you were upset to wake up and not see Joel. But the promise of seeing him later makes up for it. You slip on a loose t-shirt and biker shorts and make your way downstairs. In the midst of all your giddiness you completely forgot about Ellie. You do your best to not look so surprised when you see her sipping coffee from a mug in the kitchen.

“Hey.” She calls out as you make your way past the threshold.

“Good morning.” You say while showing her a soft smile.

“You okay?” She raises an eyebrow smile taking another long sip.

You think for a moment before answering.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You nod your head while reaching into a cabinet for your own mug.

“The fuck happened last night? You made me all nervous by not answering.”

You shoot her a sympathetic look.

“I know, I know.” You mumble while pouring some coffee into your mug.

You start to fill her in on last night, minus Joel's appearance, while making your coffee.

“I was just about to leave, walked out into the dining room and all of a sudden- it’s fuckin’ packed.” You tell her while stirring sugar into your mug.

“And I mean fuckin’ packed.” You put emphasis on your words while Ellie listens intently.

“Aw, shit.” She mutters as you go on.

“I haven’t seen it like that, ever. People were asking for shit left and right. The damn computer service went down. It was an utter shit show.” You tell her while focused on pouring cream into your coffee.

You pause to take a long sip, Ellie does as well.

“And get this, to top it all off- I wasn’t even two blocks away when-” Your mind caught up with your words and you paused.

“When…?” Ellie gestures with her hands for you to finish.

“I got a flat tire.” You say flatly.

“Damn. You can’t catch a break. Is it fixed?” She asks.

You swallow thickly and nod your head, dancing around the fact that Joel, your maintenance man, came to rescue you from your flat tire and your panic attack.

“It’s fixed.”

“You can fix a flat tire now?” Ellie questions.

Fuck. Stop being so shady about it, just come out and say it, dammit. It’s right on the tip of your tongue.

“No- called a company to come out.” You lie.

Again.

It doesn’t feel good. The hot coffee you're pushing down your throat tastes sour after that. You set the unfinished coffee on the counter.

“Nice. I didn’t see it outside this morning, I figured you left real early. Thought I heard you coming down the steps.” Ellie says simply while walking to the sink and rinsing out her mug.

Stealthier than he looks, right? Wrong.

You blow raspberries while your mind races for excuses.

“Well.. It was really late by the time the company came out. Didn’t feel safe while driving.” You speak a little too quickly but Ellie doesn’t ever turn around to look at you, she just hums and nods her head while at the sink.

“And- I don’t know what you heard this morning.” You tack on at the end.

Ellie shrugs her shoulders.

“Don’t know I was half asleep.” She’s so casual through this conversation and you envy it.

You swallow thickly and nod your head slowly.

“What’re you doing today?” You take the moment of silence to change the subject.

Ellie turns around and leans against the counter to look at you.

“Going back to the bar in a little bit.” Her eyes darted around a bit before looking at you.

You know why. The bar. Owen. The other night you picked her up from the airport and she confronted you with that. You quickly convince yourself that pretending not to remember would be the best situation.

“Mm, nice.” You hum, staring into your coffee mug.

“Jesse’s working, too. Maybe you’ll swing by?” It sounds like a peace offering that you didn’t know you needed.

“Maybe-“ Joel’s voice in your head reminds you that he’ll pick you up at four.

Think of an excuse. Think. Think. Think.

“For lunch. A late lunch.” You say while nodding your head mostly for yourself.

“Lunch?” Ellie questions with a raised brow.

“Lunch.” You amend with a shrug.

“Right.” Ellie says before pushing off of the counter and slowly trudging out of the kitchen.

Her comment made your heart twinge a little. Dismissive or maybe unbelievable. Unbelievable would be true in this case. You sulk against the counter top, wrapping your arms around yourself for some sort of comfort. You go back and forth. Should you just come out and say it? How many times have you said that to yourself in the past few weeks? It’s starting to get old. If you tell Ellie, do you have to tell your father and if you tell one and not the other is that making the situation worse? What about Joel? Joel deserves to know. You groan and close your eyes tightly. You can’t get stuck in this loop all day.

Today will be good. It has to be. You’ll see Ellie and Jesse at the bar for late lunch and then you’ll get to see Joel for a little bit to pick up your car.

Ellie left for the bar a few hours ago and you figured now was a decent time for your visit. You dress yourself in a worn t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

Your walk there was pleasant, the sun was warm and the breeze made it bearable. You’re greeted with the smell of stale beer and fried food, it almost makes you moan. You look over behind the bar- no Ellie.

Just Jesse.

Standing back there, shining a glass with a stupid look on his face. You groan quietly and make your way over to him. You haven’t seen him since that night with Owen. Then he tattled on you to Ellie and you didn’t really want to see him right after that to be honest. You plop down on a bar stool and spin side to side while staring at him. He almost looks amused. Your eyes narrow.

“Where’s Ellie?” You ask sharply.

“Tapping kegs downstairs. Stuck with me for a little.” He says simply.

You scoff at him and fold your arms over your chest.

“You’re an ass.” You mumble under your breath.

“Haven’t seen you in a little while. Thought you died.” Jesse muses while setting the glass down, ignoring your previous comment.

“Wish I did.” You deadpan.

“Oh, you’re being dramatic for a change?” He feigns shock. “What else is new?”

“Why don’t you tell me? You’ve been real chatty lately.” You sneer at him and then suck at your teeth.

He chuckles and shakes his head while leaning into the bar.

“Ahh, so that’s what we’re doing, hm?” He hums.

You roll your eyes at him before leaning in over the bar and speaking in a tight, hushed tone.

“You ran and fuckin’ tattled on me to Ellie.”

“She asked how the night went!” He says defensively.

“So you spilled your guts?” You shove yourself off the bar and lean into the back of the stool again, pushing air from your lungs with force.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.” He says honestly.

“Clearly you didn’t think at all.”

“Oh god-“ He groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re being dramatic. Ellie doesn’t really give a fuck like that. She was just concerned for you.” He says while lifting his head to look at you. “Friends talk about shit like that, you know?” His tone is a little sharper at the end.

You don’t respond and let the silence hang for a bit. The both of you continue to give side glances to each other.

“Hey, barmaid- let me get a grilled cheese, yeah?” You speak up, slapping a hand down onto the bar top.

He looks at you with a- ‘You gotta be fucking joking’ kind of expression. And you love it. You eat it up. As much as he annoyed you for running to Ellie you know it wasn’t in malice. But you don’t want to let him off too easily.

“And I want a pickle. I don’t care if it doesn’t come with it.” You quickly tack that on at the end, already knowing what his retort would be.

Jesse stands at attention and mocks a salute.

“Yes, ma’am.” He holds it for a second before dropping it and turning towards the kitchen while grumbling under his breath.

You mock his words quietly to yourself. A familiar laugh from the stairwell catches your attention. Loud, bubbly and echoing in the mostly empty bar. Ellie turns the corner and slips behind the bar to wash her hands.

“Hey! I didn’t know what time late lunch was,” She chuckles at her comment, wearing an expression that looks a little surprised to see you. “Glad you came by though, I think Jesse was getting bored with hearing details of the trip.”

You smile and sit forward in your chair, resting your elbows on the bar.

“He deserves the boredom. And more.” You smile sweetly.

Ellie sucks her teeth and laughs. “Spicy. Did you see him yet?”

Jesse exits the kitchen just in time to hear Ellie and holds his hands up in surrender.

“Did she see me? Yeah, she came in swingin’.” He finds his spot just next to Ellie behind the bar.

Ellie pretends to wince. “You two still going on about Owen-“

“God- no. Please. I’m tired of talking about him.” You cut her off with a whine while hanging your head between your shoulders.

The two of them chuckle at you and agree to drop it.

“Alright, then. No sulking at the bar.” Ellie taps her hand against the top a few times.

You sit up straight and smile warmly while watching her sort through a few different bottles, the soft clanking of glass against glass filling the room.

“Wanna try this?” She holds out a bottle filled with dark liquor.

You make a face immediately and Jesse laughs.

“Don’t make her try that shit.” He snatches the bottle out of Ellie’s hands. “Practically fuckin’ gasoline. Don’t need her puking up her grilled cheese on the bar.”

The soft dinging of a bell is muffled by the swinging kitchen doors.

“Speaking of-“ Jesse places the bottle back down and heads into the kitchen.

Ellie smiles and starts to unload the dishwasher behind the bar while talking with you.

“Grilled cheese, huh? Not even a menu item.” She shakes her head.

You shrug your shoulders, smiling wider as Jesse returns with your sandwich.

“And a pickle? What the fuck.” Ellie gestures to the basket as Jesse sets it on the bar.

He shrugs his shoulders.

“Had to pull some strings.” He says smoothly.

You enjoy your sandwich while going back and forth with Jesse and Ellie about anything. Ellie can’t stop bringing up her trip with Dina. You can’t get enough of the details, but Jesse? He looks like his eyes might fall out of his head if he rolls them again. Slowly but surely the bar starts to fill up as time goes by, laborers start filing in and filling the bar with dull chatter. Your two friends have less and less time to hang around chatting with you so you take advantage of it to slip out without question. It’s nearing 3 o’clock and you’d like a little time to get ready to see Joel.

“I’m gonna head out before it gets too busy in here.” You speak up when Ellie walks back over to you.

She nods while grabbing a beer glass and filling it from the tap behind the bar.

“What’re you gonna get up to?” She asks over her shoulder without taking her eyes off the glass.

“Um.. Not much,” You can’t come up with a lie quick enough and she turns her head to finally look at you confused. “Probbaly go visit my dad.” You blurt out once you see her expression.

Her face softens and she smiles while nodding her head. “Tell him I say hi.”

You nod quickly and leave cash on the bar to cover your bill and then some.

“That’s for you. Not Jesse.” You slide it over the bar towards her and she chuckles.

“Alright, I’ll see you at home.” She shakes her head and waves you off.

You push yourself off the barstool and wave back before turning to exit the bar.

You got home with enough time to shower, fix up your hair and put on a better outfit. You settled with a decent cami, a pair of shorts and a dark zip up hoodie. Not exactly suggestive but enough skin is exposed for your liking.

You have to admit it is a little ridiculous that you’re having him do this. Pick you up to go get your car that really isn’t that far away? Any excuse to see him, honestly. You hope he comes back to your house before Ellie gets home but you wouldn’t think twice about sneaking him in again. It was fun.

You’re slipping your sneakers on when you hear those three knocks at the door. He can’t really be at the door right now, can he? You expected a text or a call to let you know he’s here. You quickly walk to the door and open it.

“Hey there, darlin’.” His sweet drawl makes your insides turn to mush.

You gawk there in awe for a moment while he stands there before you, truck idling just behind him. A dark blue flannel stretches over his broad shoulders, the first two buttons are left undone to show off the thin white t-shirt he has on underneath. He’s still got his jeans on, but they don’t look like the ones ridden with paint and glue and everything else under the sun. They’re nice and clean, the same goes for his boots. You lift your head to look at him and- holy shit. Did he shower for this? His hair is still a little damp and it looks like it was pushed back but this Texas humidity keeps it looking unruly in the best way. He doesn’t look like he just finished up a day's worth of work.

“Hi Joel.” You spit out after a few seconds go by.

He chuckles while taking a step closer and holding out his hand for you to take.

“Ready?” He asks.

You furrow your eyebrows but take his hand in yours.

“…To go get my car? Yeah. I’m ready.” You say, now suspicious of him.

“What’re ya lookin’ at me like that for?” He says while leading you to his truck, that lopsided smile plastered on his lips.

“Don’t know just yet.” You side eye him when he holds the door open for you and you climb into the passenger.

He sucks his teeth while shaking his head. Joel shuts your door and rounds the hood to get into the driver's seat. He slowly pulls the truck out of the spot and heads towards the car you abandoned last night. Music spills out of Joel’s radio, some older western music you haven’t heard before. It’s very on brand for Joel, though. You’d be surprised if he didn’t have it all burned into a tape. Joel stops at the red light and you can see your car on the street.

“Well, it’s still there.” You say and look over to Joel who still has a sweet smile on his face.

“‘Course it is.” He says.

The light turns green and he makes the turn but coasts swiftly past your car.

“Joel-“ You turn around in your seat to look at your car now disappearing behind you. “That was my car.”

Joel looks over his shoulder for a moment before directing his attention back to the road.

“Hmm, weird ain’t it?” He hums in amusement and continues to drive.

You turn in your seat and look back at the car and back to him.

“Joel, what’re you doing?” You ask again in confusion.

He shrugs his shoulders, tossing one of his hands palm up.

“Dunno. Just letting the wind take us.. I guess.” He says nonchalantly.

You furrow your eyebrows and look at him in pure confusion while you stutter on your words. Joel chuckles and places his hand on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Calm down. Y’look like ya saw a ghost.” He flashes a wide smile at you. “Relax. Just listen to the music, sweetheart.”

You pinch your face up at him before forcing air from your lungs and relaxing into the seat. What the fuck is going on? Your mind is racing. Where is he taking you? You know the area so you’re really not too concerned but.. What the fuck? That’s all that's going through your mind.

Joel removes his hand from your knee to turn up the knob on the radio. The cabin floods with the plucking guitar and Joel’s humming. You swear you hear him muttering the words of the song.

“I was in love, but in vain, I could tell.

One night, a wild young cowboy came in, wild as the West Texas wind,

Dashing and daring, a drink he was sharing

With wicked Feleena, the girl that I love.”

His voice never wavered but it also never carried. It was strong and solid but soft in volume compared to the radio. It was comforting and adorable, you thought. It makes him human. Joel really knows the words to songs like this? And is singing them while sitting next to you? He surprises you every day.

A few songs go by and you’re starting to get impatient.

“Where are we going?”

“Told you already.” He says.

“You only said ‘Just lettin’ the wind take us’” You emphasize your southern drawl and lower your voice to mock him the best you can.

This earns a hearty chuckle from Joel.

“I don’t sound nothin’ like that.” He retorts.

“Something like that,” You smile. “Can I get a hint?”

He pretends to ponder it for. second. “Nope.”

You whine quietly. “Please? Just one?”

He shakes his head. “Not a single one.”

You lean back into the passenger seat and cross your arms over your chest while you think.

“We have to be going somewhere. You got all dressed up.” You point out while leaning your head back on the headrest.

“Dressed up?” He chuckles and looks down at his clothes. “S’just what I wear.”

“But you took a shower before.”

“I did take a shower after workin’ all day, you’re right.” He sucks at his teeth.

“Is it something cool?” You turn your torso towards him.

He takes a moment to give you a look for a few seconds.

“Quit it.” He says while tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

“I just wanna know-“

“In due time, darlin’. In due time.” He interrupts your pleas and you let out an exaggerated groan.

He goes back to humming the songs pumping through his radio and you decide to peer out the window to try and get a guess where he’s taking you. You look over to him and open your mouth to say something at least three times and all he does is ‘Shhh’ quietly and wave you off. You exhale deeply and become complacent in the silence. It’s not bad, at all. But him being so secretive is making you beyond impatient.

Ten minutes go by.

Fifteen minutes.

Twenty minutes go by of Joel’s humming and his hand on your knee before you sit up straight.

“I feel like I’m gonna go crazy, Joel-“

“We’re here.” He says while slowing the truck down to turn down an unpaved road.

You whip your head around to look out the windows. Outside is filled with trees and greenery lining the road.

“Where is here?” You ask while twisting in your seat to look out the opposite window.

“Here.” He says and pulls his hand from your knee to point at a large marquee.

Your jaw drops as you lean forward in your seat.

“Oh- no fucking way.” You spit out.

Mustang Ridge Drive-In Theater Presents:

Double Feature

The Evil Dead (1981)

The Evil Dead || (1987)

Joel pulls farther into the unpaved road to the break in the trees and there it is-

A large clearing in the trees with a huge white screen stretched between poles. There has to be tens if not hundreds of feet of string lights laced between the towering trees that illuminate the patrons below in a soft orangey light. Cars of all kinds lined up in perfect rows. The smell- oh my god, the smell. A small snack shack tucked into the side wafting buttery popcorn into the air, with tons and tons of colorful packages of different candies stacked high.

Joel rolled all the windows down as he pulled closer to the booth. The soft chatter of the other movie goers filled the cabin, the smell stronger than before. You smile widely back at Joel who's already watching you.

“You’re serious?” You ask while leaning over the center console.

“As a heart attack, darlin’.” He smiles while leaning in to press a soft peck to your lips.

“You’re sneaky.” You giggle against his lips.

“Told you I’m stealthier than I look.” He smirks while turning to the booth attendant to start chatting.

That leaves you speechless.

Stealthier than he looks.

You thought he was full of shit earlier but he might actually be right. You couldn’t see this happening if it bit you on the ass.

Joel slowly rolled away from the booth and turned into one of the last rows and backed into an open spot with the cabin of the truck facing the trees. You looked over your shoulder to the bed of Joel’s truck.

Clean.

No tools.

No dirty tarps and buckets filled with god knows what. It’s clean with two large duffle bags in it.

He cleaned the bed of his damn truck for you?

“Joel- oh my god.” Is all you could say.

“Y’alright?” He asks while turning the car off.

“Am I alright?” You scoff a laugh at his ridiculous question.

He chuckles while getting out of the car and rounding the front to open your door. He smiles while you scramble to unbuckle your belt and hop out. You bounce on the balls of your feet in excitement and trail behind him as he walks to the tailgate of his truck. He lowers it and picks you up just like he did last night and sets you on the edge.

“You stay here.” He tells you while patting the tops of your thighs.

You nod your head and swing your feet while they dangle. Joel swiftly hauls himself into the bed of the truck and seconds later you hear rustling behind you. It takes all the every ounce of strength you’ve got to not turn around but you wait, patiently and take in the scenery in front of you. The sun is sitting lower in the sky but it hasn’t started to turn yet. The blazing heat is no longer there, it’s been replaced by a chilly wind and the trees help shade from whatever is left of the sunlight.

Joel calls your name from behind you and it pulls you out of your day dream. You whip your head back and find him standing right behind you. You crane your neck to look at him and grab his outstretched hand. He secures his larger hand around yours and helps to pull you up. Joel steadies you as you stand with a hand on your hip.

“Not much, but I hope s’alright for ya.” He says quietly at your side.

He’s got a big comforter laid out on the bed of the truck, a handful of pillows stacked along the back with a few smaller blankets rolled up on either side of the bed walls. A back pack lays to one side, candies and bags of snacks spilling out of it from being so stuffed. Beside the pack is a small, black portable radio. Your heart swells and your stomach flips.

“You did all this for me?” You ask but your eyes don’t leave the little set up he made for the two of you.

“‘Course it is.” He says.

You look over at him. He looks timid, or bashful? Like that rough around the edges attitude he’s usually got going on has melted away into a boyish hue. A shy smile hides under his beard. It makes your chest tight.

“Well c’mon n’ sit with me. Should be starting soon.” He completely steers the conversation away from him and guides you towards the pile of pillows. He lets you settle down first before finding his spot next to you and pulling the snack bag into his lap. He starts to pull them out one by one.

He’s got red vines, MNM’s, a flask, gummy bears, skittles, a chocolate bar, another chocolate bar,-

You watch in awe and keep thinking the next thing he pulls out has to be the last.

Sour gummy worms, a water bottle, another water bottle, a soda can, hard candy and another can of soda.

“Don’t think you ever told me what your favorite..Anything is. So I got everythin’.” He says while gesturing to the pile of candy and drinks.

You blink while slowly taking it all in.

“This is.. Wow.” You say while taking a deep breath.

“Wow?”

“Wow.” You repeat.

“These are my favorites.” You say quietly while picking up the sour gummy worms.

Joel plucks them from your hands and opens the bag before handing it back to you. You’re a bit surprised but you thank him and lean into his side. He lifts his arm to wrap around your shoulders, his hand gently clamping around your upper forearm like it belonged there. It felt so right. You weren’t concerned about anyone seeing you and it didn’t seem like Joel was, either. The pair of you tucked into one of the very last rows, the walls of his truck bed shielding you from any curious eyes.

The loud speaker on the snack shack crackles to let everyone know which station to tune the radio to and Joel grabs the portable one and turns the knob to the right channel. He sets it on the side of the truck and sighs softly while pulling you closer.

“I didn’t think you’d be the kind to like zombie movies.” You whispered while resting your chin on his shoulder and looking up at him.

“M’not.” He chuckles and eyes you.

“Why’d you pick this then?”

“Wanted to take you out. You’ve got the first one on DVD in your entertainment center.”

“What? How do you know that?” You sit up from him and look at him, bewildered.

He looked down at you with a soft smile.

“The night of the storm when I came over, you were watching movies-“

You nod your head while listening, memories of the stormy night start to flood your mind.

“Did you watch it? It was sitting on the top of it.”

You don’t respond right away, just look at him in disbelief.

“I was going to. How did you notice that?” You ask.

“I put it back into the entertainment center. When I put away the candles.”

You almost forgot about that. When you came down all the candles were blown out and on the coffee table. God, how could you forget about that?

“Why’d you do that?” You ask, since you never got the chance to before.

“You fell asleep. I was ‘bout to leave. Didn’t want to leave you with a buncha clean up after you let me come in. Saw a few movies sittin’ there n’ I checked ‘em out. When I was done I slipped ‘em back on the shelf.” He speaks calmly.

So, so calmly. It stirs something in your stomach. He’s talking so casually about doing something so domestic for you, it almost makes your eyes cross.

“You're something special, you know that?” You say while leaning into him again.

He smiles sweetly but ignores your comment with a squeeze to your shoulder.

“Movies startin’, sweetheart. Pay attention.” He nudges you and pulls you even closer.

The beginning credits roll and surely the movie starts. You smile to yourself and pop a sour gummy into your mouth here and there. Joel would unscrew the cap to a water bottle and offer it to you throughout the movie. He’d slouch into the pillows and pull you with him, your head nuzzled comfortable into his chest. You’re trying your hardest to pay attention to the movie but the steady thud in Joel’s chest is distracting. The way your head rises and falls slowly with his concentrated breaths is distracting. His hand rubbing along your arm and lingering light kisses to the top of your head, is distracting.

You find your eyes straying from the large screen and focusing on Joel. Making it as inconspicuous as possible. You look at his boots, the way the denim of his jeans stretches over his wide lap and the glimmer of his belt buckle reflecting light from the film. You notice how soft his belly looks and absent mindedly slip your arms across his midsection, tugging yourself into him. Joel hums pleasantly and looks down to you, his hand ceasing the rubs on your arm to brush over your hair a few times.

“Gettin’ comfortable?” He whispers and you nod against him.

He smooths your hair a few times slowly before his hand finds a perch at your hip. Your zip up has fallen behind you and your cami has scrunched closer to your waist. Joel’s hand is warm on your skin. So warm it reminds you how chilly it is now that the sun has set.

“Where’d you stick those blankets?” You whispered while craning your neck to see him.

He looked down to acknowledge you but reached beside him without a word and presented the rolled up flannel material. He unrolled it and splayed it across both of your lower bodies and returned his hand to your hip, under the blanket to trace small circles there

The two of you barely move once the first film ends. The hum of the summer bugs now fills the empty air. The loud speaker boots up again to announce a fifteen minute intermission before the second film starts. You sit slowly from your comfortable but squished up position against Joel and stretch your arms out. He watches you with a smile that hasn’t seemed to have left his lips once this evening.

“Thought you might’ve fallen asleep.” He muses.

You laugh breathily and shake your head.

“No, but I probably could’ve.” You tell him.

He chuckles before looking around at the other cars, some people exiting and chatting softly.

“You fill up on them sour things? Or you think you got room for somethin’ good?” He gravels.

You purse your lips in thought, leaning back and placing a hand on your belly. You definitely ate more sour gummy worms than you should’ve- but maybe you could snack on some real food.

“Hmm. What’re you thinking?” You ask while bringing yourself to your knees and shuffling over to him.

Joel wraps an arm around your thighs, just under the curve of your rear and pulls you into him with a low hum. You laugh and place your hands on his shoulders to prevent yourself from fully toppling over him.

Joel presses a kiss to your shoulder, exposed from your draped zip up.

“Was thinkin’-“ He pressed another kiss to the base of your neck.

“We could go over to that shack over there-“ Another kiss to your throat.

“N’ I’ll get you whatever your lil’ head could think of.” A kiss to your jaw.

“Now, how's that sound, sweetheart?” He pulls back just enough to get a good look at your face.

Your face. It was burning. The way he grabbed you and kissed you all over in front of all of these people. Granted they weren’t all looking at you, odds are none of them were, but his public display of affection towards you made your stomach tighten in the best way. You swallow thickly and nod your head.

“Sounds good, Joel.” You smile lazily.

“Alright, pretty girl. Let's go.” He gives your rear a playful smack, as if to signal you to get a move on.

You let out a noise of surprise and Joel chuckles at your reaction, already making his way to the tailgate and slipping off with a quiet grunt. He brushes his hands off on his thighs and holds a hand out to you.

“You comin’ or what?” He says while running a hand through his hair.

The playful glint in his eyes warms your heart. You scramble after him while laughing and joining your hand with his to jump off of the tailgate. He doesn’t let go of your hand once you’re on the ground with him, just gives it a squeeze and leads you towards the snack shack. The two of you wait in line, illuminated by the shitty neon lights that flicker and buzz louder than the cicadas in the trees.

Joel has been sneaking glances at you all night. You haven’t caught him yet, he thinks. He can see out of the corner of his eye that you’re sucked into reading the menu above the shack. He turns his head and allows himself the time to take you in. Joel Miller is not the poetic type. Not the mushy words or flowers at every turn type. But something about seeing you in this too-bright neon signage lighting knocks the wind from his lungs and makes him want to be the poetic type. It makes him want to be the mushy words and flowers at every turn. To him, you look like something he isn’t allowed to touch. Most would think he’s too old to get so tied up by a girl reading the snack shack menu but you look so gentle in this lighting. Your mouth is softer, and your eyes are more gentle. You look like you aren’t carrying everything you were last night. Like just for a moment he was able to lift it up and give you a break. He notices all of you. The curve of your cheek and the way the string lights twinkle in your eyes. The slope of your neck and how your lashes catch the light.

You make him ache. It isn’t just about wanting you because- Fuck, does he want you. It’s how you make him feel seen. Like he can be softer, too. He likes being out and about with you, staring at you like this. Protective, hungry and quietly in awe.

You pull your attention away from the menu to look at him and to your surprise he’s already watching you.

And he still doesn’t look away.

Joel ends up ordering two different kinds of tacos because-

“Well, I want one of those n’ one of these.” He tells you while settling down into the bed of the truck again, beside you. “We can trade one each. Best’f both worlds, hm?”

He hands you the container and all you can do is laugh at him while popping it open.

“Alright, take your pick.” You hold the box out to him.

He smiles widely while taking one and placing one of his into your box.

“There ya go.”

The two of you eat in silence. That's how good these tacos are.

“Holy shit- these are amazing.” You say through a bite while covering your mouth with your fist.

Joel hums in amusement while nodding his head.

“Knew you’d like ‘em.” He says after swallowing.

He packs the boxes away when you two finish, just in time for the second movie to start, beginning credits are rolling on the screen as the two of you get comfy again. Joel tunes the radio in for the second time and sets it to the side before handing you a water bottle. You take it graciously and take a sip. Joel pushes himself against the cabin of the truck, sitting up against it. You take the opportunity to swing both of your legs over his lap and lean into his side. He wraps his broad palm around your calf and rubs small circles with his thumb then slips it up to your knee and back down your ankle. Repeat.

The film drones in but neither of you are watching anymore. You’re so close to him, warm and smelling sweet. Every time you shift it pulls something deep in his gut. He’s trying to be good, trying to play it safe, but then his fingers find the hem of your shorts and you lean closer into his chest like you need him. He can feel your breath warm his chest through his shirt.

“Y’alright?” He whispers.

You nod and look up. “Mhm. You?”

He meets your eyes and lets them linger.

“Yeah.”

Joel’s doing that thing again. Looking at you like his thoughts are racing and he’s holding back. You want him to stop holding back. You feel his hand tightening around your thigh, the tips of his fingers grazing just under the hem of your shorts. He leans in. It’s slow and intentional. You watch his eyes drop to your lips and that's all it takes.

Fuck the movie.

You lean into him and kiss him gently, testing. It builds quickly. Parted lips against his, tongue rolling past his lips to twist into his. One of his hands cups your cheek while the other palms the flesh at your hip, slipping back to rub over the curve of your ass and stopping at the side of your thigh. He’s not rushing, just exploring slowly. You let out a soft noise into his mouth that causes him to groan.

Joel pulls back to break the kiss just long enough to whisper. “You want me to stop?"

“No- No, Joel. Please.” You say breathlessly.

The pair of you shift, frantic and hungry. His fingers dig into your hip but you ignore it. The movie is still playing in the background now half forgotten. Joel’s touches grow more possessive, less hesitant. He pulls from the kiss and pushes your head to the side and connects his lips to the soft skin just under your jaw. He leaves slow, wet, open mouthed kisses there while the coarse hairs of his beard leave a tight burn.

“I been thinkin’ ‘bout you all week, sweetheart.” He whispers against your skin.

His words flip your stomach over and over again. You’d be lying if you said anything different. You’ve dreamt of him daily and nightly. His rough touches and soft kisses, how warm his breath felt fanning between your thighs. It seems so long ago. He promised to give you what you wanted so, so long ago and between sneaking around and stress from work weighing on you, the both of you haven’t had the opportunity.

“Couldn’t wait to get my hands on you. Y’looked so good when I picked you up.” He mumbles with lips brushing yours.

He connects his lips back to yours feverishly while pulling you closer with his hand at the back of your head. You place your palm at the base of his neck, fingertips pressing gently into his warm skin.

Joel slides his hand between your knees and you reposition yourself to spread your legs. You feel his lips tug into a faint smile. He moved with you, laying you on your back while slipping his bicep under your head, bending his elbow to grip your jaw and keep your head turned towards him to prevent breaking the kiss. Joel is laid on his side, his chest pressed into the side of your ribcage with his hand that isn’t gripping your jaw splayed under the blanket over your lower stomach, finger tips brushing against the soft skin of your belly. You rolled your hips up into his hand and he pressed into your belly to pin your movements.

“Poor thing. Kept you waiting a long time, hm?” He pulled back from the kiss to look down at you.

You nodded your head frantically, the heat piling up quickly in your lower stomach. Embarrassment flooded your cheeks while he pointed out just how eager you were. Joel slipped the tips of his fingers past the waistband of your shorts and it knocked the wind clear from your lungs. You turned and buried your head into his chest that you felt vibrate with a chuckle.

“Barely even touched you.” He states.

You grip the fabric of his shirt where your hand sits at his collar and pull on it while whining quietly.

“Touch me, Joel.” You whisper into his broad chest while your free hand wraps around his forearms and pushes his hand a bit lower, his fingers brushing the hem of your panties.

The noise he makes turns your stomach. It’s raw and rugged and filthy. It matches the way he kisses you after you say that. Hot, open mouths with his angles down into yours. His hands push into your pants further, cupping your covered sex snugly. You buck your hips again, searching for any additional pressure, any additional friction he’s so kind to offer. But you found none, just the heel of his hand pressing into your mons to ground your hips for the second time.

“You need to calm down, pretty girl. Can’t have any wandering eyes knowing what I’m doin’ to you.” He rasps into your ear after pulling back from the kiss.

You feel your lower lip tremble in frustration. It’s completely unfair that the first chance he gets to touch you like this in days is in the bed of his truck with people only a few feet away. You were grateful for the blanket covering the both of you even if it grew warmer and warmer underneath.

The arm Joel has under your head cranes again and grips your chin, turning your head away from him to present your neck to him. He takes advantage immediately, pressing open mouth kisses to your collar and all the way up to your jaw, he stops to suck for a quick second before releasing or to blow air softly over the damp spot he leaves.

“Fuck, Joel.” You stifle a moan.

He continues kissing lazily at your neck while grinding his hand into your damp panties. Your knees are bent slightly, thighs clamped around his wrist but it doesn’t stop him. He runs his middle finger along the wet spot in the center of your panties.

“Poor thing. Must’a been achin’ these past few days.” He pressed a hot kiss by your ear.

It sends a shiver down your spin and white heat into your lower belly.

“Huh? You been thinkin’ ‘bout this, sweet girl?” He taps three fingers against your clothes folds and your body twitches in reaction.

You nod your head quickly but he tuts his tongue.

“Lemme hear you. N’ you better say it quietly.”

“Yes, Joel.” Your voice is just above a whisper. “Been thinking about you every night.”

He hums in satisfaction while toying with the elastic of your panties before pulling them to the side. You didn’t realize how much they were suffocating you, the freedom he now had sent a fresh wave of arousal right between your thighs and you gasped. A little too loudly. Joel’s hand on your chin quickly clamped over your mouth, cutting your gasp with his broad palm. Your eyes were wide and darted over to him rapidly. He could feel the soft puff of your frantic breaths from your nostrils on his finger. It made a sickening smile spread across his lips. A knowing smile.

“Don’t know how many times I gotta tell you, baby. Gotta be quiet.” He presses a kiss to your temple while finally dipping his fingers between your folds.

His hand muffles a whimper rumbling at the back of your throat. He presses his fingers more firmly against your mouth, ceasing any other remaining noises that threaten to spill. He drags two fingers from bottom to top, collecting your slick as lubricant to circle gently around your clit. The muscles pull hard in your stomach, your soaked walls spasming around nothing.

Your eyes are still wide and looking at Joel, silently pleading through muffled grunts and whines. He looks down at you, almost sympathetic to your whines and twitches.

“No need to worry, pretty girl. I’ll take care f’ya.” He reassures you but moves his fingers no differently.

Agonizingly slow circles with the occasional tap from his middle finger. Your settled arousal has now completely soaked your underwear that's tugged to the side. Joel slides his middle finger down your slit, rubbing the tip of his finger at the rim of your cunt, barely pushing inside. This does something to you. The tease, his smug look while he watches your reaction and the building anticipation in your lower belly. Days and days of day dreaming about this happening and he’s teasing you. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and they don’t go unnoticed by Joel.

“Awh, c’mon now, sweetheart. Need it that bad?”

You nod to the best of your ability, his hand still clamped over your mouth.

“Tell you what, sweet girl.” He whispers into the top of your head while his finger continues to tease. “Gonna give you what you want-.” He kisses the top of your head. “What you deserve.” He corrects himself. “But you can’t take your eyes off that movie. Y’hear me?” He pulls back to look down into your blown black, glossy eyes.

You mumble against his hand and for a second he removes it to allow you to speak.

“Y-Yes, Joel. Pleasepleaseplea-“ You pant a few times and Joel cuts off your please by clamping his hand there again.

He sucks his teeth and shakes his head, his fingers stopping where they are.

“You forget the first thing I told you? Told you to be quiet, too. You think you can handle all this at once?” He asks and you nod your head swiftly.

“Good girl.” He praises softly.

You lock your eyes onto the movie that's projecting before you, not taking in a single frame of it. All that's running through your head is Joel.

Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel. Joel.

Joel Miller, your maintenance man. Your auto repair man. Your ‘call during a panic attack man’. Your ‘sneak into the house for a sleepover man’. Your ‘planning secret dates man’. Is this a date? He took you to a secretly planned drive-in movie and is now finger fucking you in the bed of his truck-

It’s a date.

Your thoughts don’t have much time to spiral because Joel finally pushes one of his thick fingers into your cunt. It’s warm and slick and hugging his digit. He groans while bottoming out to his knuckle. He keeps it there for a moment before drawing it out and pushing it back in slowly. He sets a painfully slow pace. One that makes your thighs shake with need and your already strained breath catches in your chest.

“Doin’ real good.” He says softly against your hair.

His palm muffled the sob that you choke out. You buck your hips into his hand, silently trying to tell him you want more, you need more. You need him. He fully removes his finger from your slick when you do this.

“Greedy lil’ thing.” He comments before pushing his middle and ring finger into your pussy.

Your body buckles against his and he ‘shh’s you quietly.

You feel your walls stretch around his second digit, merely uncomfortable for a second before turning sweet. Joel pumps his fingers at a slow, steady pace. He cranes his thumb to rub into your clit every time he sinks his fingers deeper into your cunt. He leans in and leaves a few lingering kisses into your hair, his warm breath fanning down your neck. The frames of the movie are blurred and moving too quickly for you to absorb any of it. They flutter when Joel curls his fingers upwards. A lewd, drawn out whine gets caught in his palm.

“Keep watchin’ that.” He reminds you when your head starts to turn towards him.

He tightens his grip over your mouth, not painful but there's enough pressure to know he’s serious. Your breaths are quick through your nose while your core grows white hot. That familiar bubbling in your lower belly sets in. Joel watches your body react. Your chest rises and falls quickly but it sputters when he takes a moment to curl his fingers while bottomed out in you. His slick thumb adds pressure just above your clit and draws small circles.

Joel resumes fucking his fingers in and out of you, curling his opposite bicep to keep your close to his chest. He’s looking down at you with half lidded eyes, lips parted just slightly. You can barely see him out of the corner of your eye and it's driving you insane. You want to see how his pupils are blown wide, how he wets his lips when you make a noise against his hand. You want to see how fucking good he looks while making you feel like this. Fuck it.

You turn your head slightly, eyes glueing onto him. He doesn’t waste a second. He stops thrusting his fingers and leaves them deep in you. All that build up in your belly is ripped from you and you almost sob into his hand.

“What’d I tell you, hm?” He asks but it’s rhetorical.

“Told you to keep your eyes on that movie, sweetheart.” He brings his thumb to your clit and taps it once, then twice.

Your body jolts with each tap, thighs shaking while trying to clamp around his hand. You don’t stop looking at him though. Joel raises his eyebrows.

“You tryin’ to call my bluff, pretty girl?” He gravels in your ear.

Your eyebrows furrow together. No, no, no. That’s not what you’re doing.

“Think I won’t leave you just like this? Stop right now n’ leave you with that mess between your legs?” His voice is so low and steady it gives you a rush.

How can he be so solid? If he asked you to speak right now you’d be stuttering over every word.

“Look at the screen.” He tells you while curling his fingers and tapping them at the inside of your walls.

You must not have moved quick enough for him as he turns your head with the grip he has on you. It’s taking too much effort to look at him from the side of your peripheral vision. So you blink back at the movie with a soft sob.

“Atta girl.” He whispers.

Joel picks up speed and he is giving you no mercy. His fingers move in quicker, harder, firmer thrusts into you. If his fingers are making you feel this way you can’t imagine how his cock will. Every whimper or broken moan comes muffled and you’re thankful for his hand because you genuinely don’t think you could be quiet enough right now.

You’re fully engulfed in Joel. You’ve got one hand of his around your mouth, the other buried deep inside your cunt, his mouth whispers filthy praises between soft, lingering kisses to your temple. All you can smell is him. Long gone is the popcorn, scents from the snack shack or any sense of night summer air. Joel’s scent is running deep through you. Heavy like cedar and clean. His blankets smell like him, too. It’s comforting.

“Can feel you grippin’ me so good, baby. You gonna make a mess on my finger f’me?” He coaxes you and you nod your head to the best of your ability.

You arch your back away from the bed of the truck while he grinds his palm into your clit, fingers curling over and over again. Joel fixes his grip on your mouth in anticipation of what's to come and you can feel the muscles in his bicep flexing around your head.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Want you to give it all t’me.” He leans down to whisper right into your ear, pressing a soft kiss there.

All the muscles in your core tighten, thighs shaking, breath stuttering. You can’t even keep your eyes open anymore, they’re screwed shut.

“Doin’ so good.” He praises softly. “Gonna make a mess. Go on n’ give it to me.” He presses a long kiss to your temple, the heel of his palm giving you the much needed friction on your clit. “Let me feel you, my sweet girl.”

That was it. Your hand scrambled for something to hold onto, like the weight of Joel’s brooding figure surrounding you wasn’t enough. You bunched the fabric of his shirt in your fist and sobbed into palm while you came. Hot and frantic, arousal gushing between your thighs while your walls spasmed around his fingers.

“That’s it, darlin’.” He coo’s while groaning softly.

His fingers move slower, riding you out through your high. Your body jerks and twitches as he slowly rubs into your overstimulated clit but his tight hold keeps you still for the most part.

“Look so pretty, baby. You did so good.” He praises in such a sweet voice.

He peppers kisses on your cheek and your temple before slowly unsheathing his fingers all while loosening his grip over your face. You take a deep breath in now that your mouth is uncovered.

“Easy, baby girl.” He whispers.

He gently pulls your underwear back to its place and places his two soaked fingers in his mouth. You whine quietly at the sight while turning into him and wrapping your hand around his wrist, pulling his fingers from his mouth to put them in your own.

“Fuck.” Joel mutters as he watches you close your lips around his fingers and suck.

You let them go with a ‘pop’. Joel grips your jaw and pulls you in for a heated kiss, his wet middle finger and thumb pressed into the flesh of your cheeks. It wasn’t long but it was strong and hard and laced with want.

The static on the radio is what causes the kiss to break. You both lifted your heads to see the end credits rolling for the second film. You couldn’t stifle the quiet laugh that bubbled from your lips and neither could Joel. You rest your head on his chest for a moment before he taps your back.

“We gotta get outta here.” He mutters while sitting up with you.

“You in a rush?” You ask while tilting your head.

“I’d say a lil’ bit, yeah.” He rubs his hand over his beard and chuckles.

“For what?” You rest your hand on his leg and he shoots you a knowing look.

He opens his mouth to say something but hesitates for a second.

“I’m a man of my word.” He says flatly while shrugging his shoulders and beginning to pack up the snacks and blankets strewn across the bed of the truck.

You furrow your eyebrows.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Do you? You give him a confused look. You don’t think you do.

Regardless, you help him clean up. He’s working rapidly, haphazardly shoving unfolded blankets into the bags they were once folded neatly in. Once everything is squared away, he’s hopping off the tailgate and gesturing you with his hands.

“C’mon now.” He rasps.

You follow and he helps you off the tailgate. Once settled into the cabin of the truck Joel pulls out- a little too fast. You think you might be the first car to pull out after the second movie ended. The soft and sweet Joel you pulled in here with is long gone. This Joel is rushed and filled with determination. There's no humming sweet songs and no shared soft glances. He’s paying attention to the road. One hand white knuckles the steering wheel while the other has a firm grip on your thigh. You watch him the whole damn time. The way the muscle in his jaw ticks. The way his forearm flexes as he readjust the grip on your thigh with his thumb rubbing circles onto the outside. You let your eyes fall down his torso and your breath hitches when you see the bulge in his jeans. Strained and you’re positive he’s throbbing.

Man of his word.

It is rattling around in your brain right now.

Thoughts of baking the cake flood your mind. Then the phone call the night before that and-

There it is.

He promised you something specific. And you haven’t exactly had the chance since then. You keep this revelation to yourself and lean over the center console to place your hand on his knee. He jerks it away from you in surprise but slowly relaxes back in the seat.

“What’re you doin’?” He asks with his voice taught.

“Nothing.” You say simply while inching your hand up his thigh.

“Careful.” He warns.

You ignore his words and slip your hard over his bulge. He hisses through his teeth and grips the steering wheel so hard the leather squeaks.

“Everything okay?” You say sweetly, paying no mind to your actions right now.

You palm him gently before tracing your fingers over the outline of his cock and you can see his body go rigid.

“Knock it off while I’m drivin’.”

“Hm?” You hum, only half paying attention to him while rubbing your thumb over his erection.

“Said knock it off.” He spits.

“Oh, you want me to stop?” You ask while wrapping nimble fingers around him.

He sucks in a sharp breath and grits his teeth. He doesn’t answer but does shoot daggers in your direction. You bite your bottom lip to stifle a laugh that he doesn’t find amusing. You reel your hand back to drop into your own lap and lean back into your seat. A few moments pass while you each exchange pointed gazes and Joel rolls to a stop. You pull your eyes off him and look around- your car.

“Listen to me-” Joel starts while turning to you. “Want you to get out the truck, start up your car and drive home. You think you can do that?”

You furrow your eyebrows and glance between him in the car, unable to read his mood for a moment.

“Are you leaving?” You ask with your handle on the door.

He shakes his head.

“Want you to take your car home so I can park down the street. Y’don’t think your lil’ roommate’ll start askin’ who’s truck is outside everynight?” He tilts his head, a smile toying at the corners of his lips.

Your smile is wider though. You nod your head and hop out of the truck.

“You drive safe, y’hear me? I won’t be but right behind you, sweetheart.” Joel tells you before you shut the door and nod your head.

You’re fumbling for your keys to open your door. When you start up the car you waste no time getting a move on. You don’t think you’ve ever made it home faster. You pull into your spot and as promised, Joel pulls down the road a few seconds after and parks a few spots away. You switch the car off and walk briskly to your front door. Fumbling with more keys. You open your door and shout out.

“Ellie? You home?” You wait in the doorway for an answer.

No answer.

She’s not home yet, perfect. You have ample time to get him in without worrying about sneaking about. You turn around and wave Joel in from his car. When he walks towards you he’s got a bit of pep in his step and you can’t help but smile wider. You usher him in and quickly close and lock the door behind him. You have no time to shove your key on the hook because Joel turns you around and immediately connects his lips with yours. Your arms fall limp as you kiss him back. His hands come to cup your cheeks, angling down into the kiss. You sigh softly into him, tilting your head and swiping your tongue along his plump lower lip. He grunts and takes one of his hands off your cheek to grip your hip while the other moves to the back of your head. You absentmindedly toss your keys in the direction of the table in your entry way to free up both hands for Joel. You grip his forearm with one and settle the other on his chest only for a moment before you’re pulling at his flannel, balling it in your hand and tugging at it. He pulls back from the kiss with a soft smile, bringing his hand to push some hair out of your face. You smile back at him, slowly walking the two of you closer to the steps. Joel lets up on his grip and allows you to lead the way. His lips are on yours the second your bedroom door closes.

“Joel-” You whine into the kiss, both hands not fumbling with the buttons on his flannel.

He bites softly at your lower lip, ignoring your plea but he does swat your hands away with one of his before working at his buttons effortlessly. He breaks the kiss to remove his flannel, toss it to the side and do the same with your zip up. He connects your lips again, with force. He’s leading you backwards until the back of your thighs makes contact with the comforter. This feels all too familiar. THe first time you kissed Joel was like this. At that point in time you never would've thought you’d have him the way you do now.

“Lay down.” He instructs and you listen.

You pull yourself onto the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows while kicking your shoes off of the bed. You hear the clunk of Joel's heavier booths toppling over on the floor before he’s on you. Kissing you everywhere but your lips. Starts at your forehead and down your cheek, then your jar and neck and he makes sure to spend a little extra time right at your collar. His beard is a scratchy contrast to his soft, wet lips and it makes you feel hot. You already feel your arousal between your legs again. He’s got you wrapped around his finger.

“You did so good earlier.” He mumbles into your skin. “Kept quiet so none f’those people heard what I was doin’ t’ya. Made a fuckin’ mess on me."

You shudder and pull gently at the hair on the nape of his neck, taking staggered breaths.

“Did you like that?” He pulls back, looking to you for an answer.

You nod your head against the pillows.

“It felt good.” You tell him.

“Know it felt good, baby. Had to keep my hand over your mouth. Made me real upset I couldn’t hear those sweet noises you were makin’.”

He slips his knee between yours to prevent you from clamping your thighs together and you writhe under him for a moment. You sigh softly in response.

“Joel, please just touch me.” you say quietly, almost unsure if you want him to hear it.

You have been beyond patient, and you can’t function properly until you feel him. You need it. You’re craving something you’ve never fully had.

“Alright, baby. I got you.” He says with a nod.

He meant it. His large hands are making quick work of your shorts and underwear. You gasp at the cool air making contact with your core. It makes you draw your knees up to press your thighs together. Joel shakes his head and lands both of his hands on your knees.

“Weren’t you just beggin’ me to touch you? How you reckon I do that like this?” He asks while pushing your knees apart.

You swallow thick and let him. His eyes follow your body while he sinks to his knees. Joel wraps his arms under your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. You make a small noise of surprise that's quickly drowned out with a moan. His hot, open mouth is on you in seconds. Licking thick, long and slow strips up your folds. Your hand finds his hair immediately and grabs hold there. He hums into your core, pulling you flush to him with his grip on your thighs.

“F-Fuck, Joel. I-“ You whimper through heavy breaths.

He sucks gently at your swollen bud before pulling back and peppering soft kisses to the inside of your thigh, leaving damp marks behind. As he lifts his head he splays his one hand across your lower stomach, dipping his thumb past your slick folds to circle your clit.

“What’s wrong baby?” He coo’s.

“Need.. Need you.” You choke out while peering down at him and you moan at the sight.

Hair tousled, lips glossy and pupils blown like saucers.

“Need what? Want you to tell me.”

You toss your head back into the mattress in frustration. He knows what you need.

“More.” You say quietly, bucking your hips into his hand.

“Be specific. Let me hear you say it, sweet girl.” He presses another kiss to your thigh that makes you twitch.

“Fuck me.” You whimper, almost embarrassed to beg him like this.

“I’ve got you.” He says simply while leaning in to place a lasting, wet kiss to your cunt.

He pulls back and stands, the metal clank of undoing his belt has never sounded so good. The leather ripping through the denim loops made your heart beat faster. You struggled to remove your cami while he undressed himself but when you did you tossed it in a pile with the rest of the forgotten clothing.

You had to remind yourself not to drool. Joel’s body is beautiful. Tanned skin turns pale where his shirt covers him in the sun. The dark hair in his chest tapering down his stomach, leading to his swollen cock. He looks down to you with almost a pained expression while stroking his cock a few times.

“Y’look so fucking good.” He mutters while taking a step closer, his thighs now pressed into the mattress.

Fuck, you can practically feel the heat off him, he’s so close.

“Please, Joel. Please.” You sob out, squirming on the bed.

“I know, I know.” He whispers softly.

You part your legs, taking him between your thighs while propping yourself up on your elbows. Joel has one hand on your hip and the other hand gripping the base of his cock. He rubs the head of his cock through your slick folds a few times and you gasp loudly when he brushes past your clit. The noises leaving your mouth already are filthy.

“Fuckin’ soaked.”

“Joel.” You drag out a whine of his name impatiently.

“Shh, s’okay.” He reminds you.

Slowly he pushes the tip of his cock into you.

“Fuckin’- God.” He hisses through a tight jaw.

You felt all the muscles in your stomach tighten as he pushed you open. It pinched, the way his thick cock stretched you and you winced. But the promise that it would soon turn sweet was more than enough reason for you to withstand it. You suck in a sharp breath and toss your head back. Joel now has both hands gripping your hips as he sinks fully into you.

“Feel like you were fuckin’ made for me.” He lets out a guttural groan.

He keeps his hips pushed against your for a few seconds and just as you thought, that tight pinch had subsided and you needed him to move. You squirm beneath him, hands fisting your comforter below you, elbows sinking into the mattress.

“Joel-” You pant out. “Need you to move.” You whimper.

He doesn’t respond but does put his hand back where it was to thumb at your clit. You curse under your breath as he rubs slowly, pulling out of you. You already miss how full you felt. Full of him, to the brim. His hand at your hip keeps you still while he sets an agonizingly slow pace for his thrusts, rolling his hips forward before drawing them out.

“Fucl. You feel me here?” He rasps, pushing down on your lower stomach with his hand that was stimulating your clit.

The added pressure makes you see stars and the moan that left your throat was pathetic. He continues to thrust but picks up the speed just slightly.

“Give me your hand.” He asks but grabs your one hand before you have the chance to do anything.

He places it on your lower stomach, and places his large one over it. He pushes down on your hand, adding that weighted pressure again while he fucks into you.

“Feel that, baby girl?” He looks at you with lust filled eyes.

You do. You do feel him, deep inside of you and you feel the bulge of him under your palm.

“Fuck, yes.” You sob out.

“Taking me so good.” He groans.

You screw your eyes shut and let yourself fall back into the mattress, arms feeling like jelly with all of your nerves working overtime. Joel ends up swatting your hand away from your belly after some time before resuming his hold on your hips and yous into the comforter. He snaps into your hips with more force, not changing the pace but putting more weight behind each and every thrust. More concentrated. Joel was completely consumed by you. He couldn’t think about anything else other than the way your cunt hugged him so perfectly. About the lewd, wet noises while he fucked into you. About how sweet it is to hear the sounds you make. About how badly he wants to make you feel good. For Joel, this is all about you.

You arched your back away from the bed and Joel tightened his grip on your hips, the repeated heavy thrusts making your orgasm approach quickly and Joel can tell by the way your walls flutter around him.

“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ good, angel face. You gonna cum, hm?” He hums while his thrusts grow more eager.

You nod your head quickly, barely being able to form the simple word, but a long string of breathless moans fall from your lips instead. That’s enough for Joel.

“Good girl.” He praises in a strained voice, his own orgasm building as his cock throbs inside of you but he wouldn’t dare to spill before you do.

You force your eyes open and as hard as it was to do that you are grateful to see what is before you. Joel Miller fucking into you, muscles straining under his skin with the iron grip on your hips. The light sheen of sweat covering his torso. The way his face flushed and the look in his eyes alone could make you come undone. The way your breathing hitches and your moans tick up a pitch signals Joel as to just how close you are.

“Gonna cum on my cock, pretty girl? Make a fuckin’ mess on me?” He gravels through labored breaths. “Let me hear you.”

You don’t hold back at all, filthy moans dripping from your lips with every breath.

“Fuck! Joel I’m gonn-”

“Cum for me, pretty girl.” He says while returning his thumb to your clit, not rubbing but just adding pressure.

And you do. It rips through you, white hot. You don’t know if any of the noises leaving your mouth are coherent right now but you don’t care and neither does Joel. It feels too good to finally be taken like this by him. You’re sure theres a few broken cries of his name in there, you can tell by the way Joel curses under his breath and lets out his own strangles moans.Joel doesn’t move his thumb but he continues to fuck you through it. Your skin is on fire right now and Joel is fueling it. Your walls spasm and grip him tightly, arousal gushing around him only to make the wet slapping noises more prominent.

“That’s it, baby Fuck- So, fuckin’, good.” Joel spat while delivering a harsh thrust between every word.

His thrusts are growing more sloppy, the force behind them is wavering only slightly. Your limbs feel like jelly and the only thing grounding you is Joel’s grip.

“M’gonna cum- fuck. Gonna cum, darlin’.” He moans.

“Please.” You sob out and he lets his head fall between his shoulders.

“So fucking good baby.” He praises you and you whimper in response.

Your hand wraps around one of his wrists and holds it tightly. Joel lifts your hips just off the mattress and fucks into you roughly a handful of times before swiftly pulling out of your cunt and letting his soaked, throbbing cock rest on your lower belly. He pushes his hips forward as he cums, spilling his seed over your hot skin, strangled grunts leaving his lips. Joel collapses a bit, his grip on your hips is gone and his fists and pushes into the mattress on either side of your torso. He lets his head hang while he breathes heavily. You watch him with your lips parted, moaning at the pure sight of him.

“Fuck.” he mumbles after a beat, his ribs still expanding and deflating.

Slowly he lifts himself back up and reaches a hand down to cup your cheek.

“You did so good, sweetheart.” He says with a hoarse voice and you whimper at the skin on skin contact.

“Gonna clean you up, pretty girl.” He says breathlessly.

You turn your head and half assed point to a towel that's hanging up. Without another word Joel grabs it and comes back over to you, gently wiping his cum from your belly. You twitch and squirm, nerves on high after everything that just happened. The drive in. How close he held you while fingering you in front of all those people. The way he just fucked you into your mattress. You were having a hard time wrapping your head around all of it and you were grateful Joel is caring for you. You don’t have the energy to do anything else but let him right now.

“So pretty.” He praises softly while wiping up the last bit on your stomach.

Joel carefully places a hand on your thigh and parts them. You whine quietly at the sensation.

“I know, I know.” He comforts while bringing the towel to wipe at the slick between your thighs.

You choke out a small whimper and squirm, thighs shaking under his grip.

“Easy, baby. S’alright.” He reminds you and leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

Joel tosses the towel to the side before returning to you once more. You feel the mattress dip beside you as he settles behind you. He’s slipped his boxers on at some point, and pulls the blanket around you to offer some sort of covering. He pulls you into his chest and presses kisses to your head.

“You did perfect.” He whispers into your hair.

You close your eyes and hum softly, leaning back into him as he holds you by your waist.

“So beautiful,” He kisses again. “Proud of you.” He mumbles there.

Bliss. That's the only way you can describe what you’re feeling right now. Soft and warm, spent and having Joel coddle you afterwards. You couldn’t ask for anything more. You close your eyes and sigh deeply while relaxing into the bed. Joel slowly combs his fingers through your hair, brushing the strands out of your face when you speak up.

“Thank you for today.” It comes out barely a whisper.

“Don’t have to thank me for any of that. I’d do all of it and more to see that pretty smile on your face.” He drawls while leaning to press a kiss to your temple.

Ellie set the last moving box down with a groan, leaning against the arched door frame and looking up to you.

“I guess not up to your standards, huh?” Ellie laughs breathily, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

You frowned.

More than half of the apartment hasn’t been unpacked yet. Unopened boxes, towels in the wrong rooms, the broken lamp you told your dad you didn’t want leaning in the corner of the room.

Ellie walks further into the kitchen, grabbing a small speaker from her backpack, setting it near your feet on the counter. She whips her phone from her shorts, scrolling through it. A song bubbles quietly from the speaker. Ellie reaches over and turns it up, a smile working its way across her lips.

“Ya know what I say?” Ellie projects over the music, light on her feet as she starts bouncing to it.

You turn to look over your shoulder, both hands still on the light fixture, trying to scrub whatever the fuck is plastered to it. You don’t answer because she begins again.

“I say we throw a party so loud it scares the dust out of the ceiling.” She dances loosely over to you, standing just below you now, preening up to you.

“Full fuckin’ reset!” She shouts.

You side eye her.

“And attract our first noise complaint?” You say just loud enough over the music, dropping your arms from the light.

You turn to face her, still standing on the counter top.

Ellie turns the music down a few notches, so you’re able to have a conversation without straining over it.

“Exactly. Then we can weed out the snitch neighbors.” She says with a wide grin.

You can’t argue, Ellie knows that.

“Friday?” She raises her eyebrows.

“Better start unboxing this shit.” You say, gesturing to the boxes.

Ellie beams, nods her head and turns the music up again. She turns and picks up a box with a grunt, then tosses her head back and sings loudly to the song spilling out of the speaker.

You watched her walk off, shaking your head while smiling to yourself.

You and Ellie had moved into your new apartment just off campus almost a week ago, at the end of your finals week of your junior year. Now, the both of you finally got everything squared away, finals done, furniture put together, clothes put away, artwork hung up and all the plants you two could fit in here. You even built up the courage to finally toss the broken lamp your dad gave you.

It’s 10pm, Friday.

The music is loud.

You could feel the cool material of the counter through your thin top. It was cropped just below your navel, a frilly finish on the hem around your waist, neck and the end of the capped sleeves. Your dark jeans hugged your thighs and flared around your ankles.

You’re leaning against the kitchen island you were standing on a few days ago, watching Ellie grab Dina in the living room, pulling her close and dancing. They were in their own little world. You smiled while watching them.

Your friends, classmates and some people you didn’t recognize crowded around them, around you. It no longer feels like your place. It barely felt like your place before all these people packed themselves in. You and Ellie had barely been here a week. You haven’t been here long enough to call this place home. But you’re trying.

Your attempt at trying, was seeing how many drinks you could down tonight. You’re doing a damn good job so far.

The way your shoes were sticking to the floor made you cringe. You were close enough to the speaker that it vibrated your diaphragm. You didn’t know if it was the bass making your eyes blur, or the drinks. Or maybe it was the copious amounts of fucking fruit flavored vapor hanging low in the air, stagnant and hot. The cracked windows are not doing anything. The air outside was stagnant and hot, too. You scrunch your face up and coughed as a fresh cloud curled around your head. God, this mango flavored whatever-the-fuck made your eyes feel heavy.

You must have had a scowl on your face, Ellies hand on your shoulder rips you from spacing out into the living room.

“You okay?” She leans in and also shouts directly in your ear.

You swallow thickly and nod your head. There's a lag between your brain and your body right now.

“You need a shot.” She states, working at some bottles beside you.

Your ankle is wet. What the fuck. You furrow your eyebrows and peer down to the slosh of vodka by your foot, it splashed up and wet your sock. You frowned deeply. Was Ellie the one soaking the ground all night making your shoes stick to it? You groaned her name and tossed your head back. She didn’t pay your reaction any mind as she nudged your shoulder, holding out the plastic shot cup, clear liquid spilling over the rim.

“Full fuckin’ reset.” She says loudly and nods her head for you to take it.

“Full fuckin’ reset.” You repeat, taking the cup in your fingers and touching it with Ellies before tossing it back.

You both grimaced as you swallowed. You hissed through your teeth as it burned your throat. Ellie shuddered and shook her head rapidly. Ellie took the cups and tossed them away, coming in close to your ear, hand on your shoulder again. You had no idea what she was saying. You only knew she was speaking because of her hot breath on your skin. Your eyes felt like they were going to fall out of your head, that's how close you were to the speaker.

All you could think about was that this didn’t feel like a full fuckin’ reset. Feels like you’re changing your environment with the same old bullshit. You imagine this is how your childhood hamster felt when you’d rearrange his cage. Same bullshit, different colorful tunnel to get stuck in.

She pulled away and looked at you knowingly, raised eyebrows and nodded her head.

You blinked.

Ellie didn’t move. Her face was blurry in front of you.

Oh, she was waiting for a response.

You press your lips together in a tight smile and nod your head lazily, the movement making you feel airy. She smiled and patted your shoulder, giving you a squeeze before disappearing back into the group of people in the living room.

You didn’t know if it was the burning liquid at the back of your throat making you gag, or the way Owen stared you down from just a few feet away. He got under your skin badly. You shared several classes with him over the past three years and he's managed to piss you off at almost every interaction. He isn’t rude, or an outward asshole. He just can’t take a hint. You are not interested.

“This is a nice spot, hm?” Owen slurs, leaning in close.

There it is. The culprit of that fucking mango scented shit. God, it was heavy on his lips.

You held back a grimace to be polite.

“Yeah.” You say, deadpan.

“Y’know what I like about you?” He says, leaning closer

Here we go.

You tilt your head up and look at him. Fuck, you were drunk and he was still unappealing to you. Your body swayed. Heavy lids hanging low over your eyes. You crossed your arms over your chest to give you some sort of grounding. You didn’t feel unsafe with him standing so close. You just wish he wasn’t.

You didn’t answer him, maybe he feels the vibe. But then he opened his dumb mouth again.

“You always look like you’re thinking ‘bout something like.. Waaaay cooler than whatever's happening like- right now.”

Okay. You were drunk. But what the fuck did he just say? You were going to ask him to clarify. But maybe you are that drunk and what he said really made sense. You wore your confusion on your face, clearly. Because he followed up with-

“You know?”

No, I don’t fucking know. You shrugged your shoulders, brows knitting together.

“Probably ‘cause I am.” You finally settle on that answer.

Don’t know if it makes sense. You don’t think it needs to make sense to him. Owen smiles, wide and nods his head.

“Hell yeah.” He says and moves to put his arm around you and lean against the counter with you.

You shudder.

Hell no.

You don’t mean to be cold. You’re tired. You also haven’t been touched in months. You didn’t want just anyone to be the one to break that silence. Maybe you were a little picky, you’d admit that.

You push yourself off the counter on wobbly legs. You were so focused on what he was trying saying you forgot about the spinning room behind him. You twist behind you and grab the remaining bottle of vodka on the counter and a red solo cup.

You watch Owens face twist up in confusion as you walk away, slipping past other bodies in hopes to lose him. You don’t feel like babysitting dumb boy feelings anymore. You want to be drunk on the couch and- oh! There's Jesse.

His face lights up when he sees you stumble over. You stop in front of him and smile lazily.

“‘Sup.” He says, holding up his cup to you.

“Hey.” You respond, reaching your cup to cheer with him before taking a swig of straight vodka and grimacing.

You collapse on the couch beside him.

“Hey- are you drinking? Aren’t you supposed to be driving people?” You say, locking in and trying to concentrate, concern writing over your face.

He chuckled at your expression and nodded his head.

“Just water, don’t worry.” He said.

You nodded your head and pursed your lips, sinking into the couch

Jesse was good people. Dina brought him around maybe two years ago and he's kind of just been around since then. He's like a big brother, kind of. He's always just there, brooding with a pouty face on. He is a safe space.

Your arms were cold. Body felt like it was swaying side to side, though the last time you checked you were still slumped into the couch with Jesse. Your eyes were heavy.

You think Ellie and Dina were standing before you. You smiled sleepily, head buzzing loudly. The music is pulsing in your ears, but you can no longer make out the words of the song. The colorful lights Ellie had set up really made it feel like a club setting, you almost forgot you were sitting on your couch. Ohh, the couch. It's so comfortable. You could melt into it right now. Your body felt like jello. Hand slack around the neck of the vodka bottle. Your head bobbed when you turned it towards Jesse. He was gesturing to you, you think. Who is he talking to? Oh right. The two blobs in front of you, shaped like Ellie and Dina. Except there's like three of them right now, and your eyes won’t focus on the real ones. Then all three of them are looking at you. It sounds like your head is submerged in water. All of the sounds are slow and billowing. You open your eyes as wide as you can, they are so damn heavy. Dina is snapping her hand very close to your face, the outline of her hand clear compared to the blurred background. You screw your eyes shut and shake your head. You open them again and- fuck. Still blurry. All of the sound comes rushing back in, like pulling your head from out of the water and it's ten times louder and clear again. It was overwhelming and it made you anxious. You frown and look at the three of them.

“I need to go to bed.” You slur.

It wasn’t a demand, or a request. A statement. Everything feels like it's tilted, like one of those fair houses that makes you feel like Dorothy from Wizard of Oz. Hands are grabbing you, wrapping around your arms. You don’t fight them, because they feel familiar. They stand you up. You comply because you are too wobbly to protest. Bed. You think. Strong hands, take me to bed.

Dina and Ellie take a step back. Ellie can barely contain her amusement as she watches Jesse manhandle you off the couch.

“If you get her up there I’ll babysit.” Dina tells him.

Ellie shakes her head, a sympathetic smile on her face.

Strong hands listened. You recognize the smell of your sheets. You can still feel the speaker through the mattress.

“She’s all yours.” Jesse pretends to wipe his hands clean.

“Thanks.” Dina murmurs while sitting on the edge of your bed.

You’re mumbling nonsense and Dina coo's, understandingly while pushing your hair away from your face.

“Just- go to bed.”

You do.

Your head weighs about 500 pounds.

“C’mon.”

Your eyelids are just as heavy.

“I gotta go. Need you to get up.”

There's a sick taste in the back of your throat. You swallow thickly.

Your name is shouted loudly, way too close to your face, you felt the heat of their breath against your clammy skin.

Your eyes shot open, bringing both of your hands to quickly cover your face from the blinding light.

“I was about a minute away from tossing whatever the fuck is in this cup at you y’know.”

“Okay- okay.” You mumble, voice raspy.

You rubbed the back of your hands against your eyes, letting them adjust. Ellie stood in front of you, eyebrows lifted in amusement as she watched you struggle.

“Oh, this is great.” She muses.

“Please- I feel disgusting.” You say with a lump in your throat, glancing at your alarm clock. “It’s 5 in the morning. I feel like I just went to bed. What is going on?”

“You don’t remember what I told you last night?”

You prop yourself onto your elbows, sinking them into your mattress. You blink your eyes at your roommate. She has a jacket on, backpack over one shoulder and her sneakers in hand. You do not remember what she told you. You shake your head ‘no’ and immediately wince at the throb radiating between your ears.

“You’re a mess.” Ellie chuckles and sucks her teeth at you.

You frown at her and sigh, hanging your head back between your shoulders.

“It’s not funny, Ellie. Are you goin’ somewhere?” You ask as you use all of the energy in your body to lift your head back up.

“Dina? I’m going to visit her family.” Ellie stands, her one hand turning palm up towards you, attitude and all.

“Oh shit.” You frown and pull yourself to fully sit up, slouching heavily, resting your elbows on your bare thighs.

“Yeah. She's picking me up soon. I got up a bit ago and cleaned what I could, but not going to lie it still looks like a shit show.”

“Mhm.” You hum, trying to remember last night.

It was a great time, maybe. This morning is not so great. You drank entirely too much. Enough to forget that Ellie was leaving for almost a month. Dina has had this trip planned for almost six months. She has been begging Ellie to come back to her hometown and spend time with her family. They agreed once finals were done, they’d spend time there, leaving today.

Fuck, you feel like you got hit by a truck. Few too many vodka sodas and whatever else ended up in your cup after that, you can’t remember. This feeling is something you can't forget though, it is god awful.

“How bad is it?” You mumble, trying to fix your hair to look somewhat normal.

“Well, think I got the worst of it done. Scrubbed the motherfucking puke from the sink.” She says, scrunching her face at the thought while digging through your desk, shoving some acne patches in her jacket pocket. You’re in too much discomfort to chastise her theft, she knows it too.

“Thinking of that makes me wanna puke.”

Ellie looks over her shoulder and smiles at you.

“Yeah, you don’t look good. But should just be some trash. Nothing insane. Ushered out two stragglers this morning. Remember that kid from our study hall freshman year? He was behind the fucking couch!” She tosses her head back to laugh.

“Oh- that's for you by the way.” She gestures to your side table.

You force a smile while pulling yourself out of bed, feet planting on the ground heavily. Your eyes widened at the sight of a fresh water bottle at your bedside. You moaned as you practically ripped the cap off and chugged half of it.

“Easy, killer.” Ellie jokes.

You swallow and release a loud breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“God, you’re the best.” You tell her.

It took longer than you’d like to admit to get downstairs. You made it, nonetheless. Big enough t-shirt to hide that fact that you did have shorts on. Mismatched socks adorning your feet. No idea how you ended up in this. You faintly recall Dina shushing you to sleep at some point. Maybe she helped you change into more comfy clothes. You’ve finally tamed your hair to look somewhat presentable. It was good enough to throw trash into bags and die on the couch afterwards.

Ellie helped you pick up some of the cups around before perking up at the sound of Dina’s car horn outside the house.

“Try not to die while I’m gone. The maintenance guy is coming by soon. Just let him in the basement, yeah?” Ellie calls out with one hand on the front doorknob.

You tie off the second full trash bag and nod your head, waving Ellie off.

“Just what I need. Some guy poking around while I feel like shit.” You sigh.

“Be safe! Love you!” You call out after her.

“Yeah, try not to die while I’m gone.. Love you, too. Text me!” She says, closing the door behind her.

It's only just past 10 AM and this has to be the tenth trash bag you have tied. You don't even know where half of this trash came from, there is no way this many beers were consumed, or this many cups were used. Dragging the bag behind you, you unlocked the back door and swung the bag out into the pile of the rest of them, mumbling to yourself that you'll deal with that another day. You lock the door behind you and rush to the sink to wash your hands, sticky residue on them making your stomach churn.

You sigh as you dry them and turn to the living room, eyes settling on the couch. It looks too good right now. A few minutes won’t hurt, right? You shuffle over and fall face first into the cushion, groaning at the contact.

Three sharp knocks startle you. Your eyes dart around the living room, body still as you come to. Fuck, did you fall asleep? There's still some red solo cups scattered on the floor, and you didn’t toss out the pizza box on the counter and-

Three more knocks, a little louder.

Oh, right.

You cuss under your breath and walk in long strides to the door, opening it slowly. The sunlight spilling over your face made you squint your eyes and hold a hand in front of your face to block it. The sudden bright light made you queasy.

The figure in front of you thankfully shifts and blocks the light for you, allowing you to see who it is. A man? The tool box rattling in his hand reminds you that you're waiting for the maintenance man.

Your eyes flicker across his body. Mid to late 40’s, tanned skin, salt and pepper beard. His dark eyes peered over your head into the house behind you. He's tall, wide chest clad in a dark t-shirt with some logo over the pocket. He’s got a tool belt hanging low on his hips, blue jeans that hug his thighs and an old pair of work boots.

You blink while taking him in, eyes trailing back up his body to his face and you’re taken back a bit when you meet his gaze. He’s handsome. The grey specks in his beard matching the ones at his hairline, the rest of his hair dark, some unruly curls behind his ears and at the nape of his neck. Soft crinkles by the corners of his brown eyes. He smells nice too. He smells like clean laundry, cedar and-

He clears his throat.

You don't know how long you were staring.

“I’m Joel. Maintenance. Here for the dryer request?” His voice was thick with a velvet southern draw, calm and polite.

Joel.

You stare just a moment too long.

“Uh- yeah. Sorry. Come in.” You say and step aside, holding the door for him.

He gives a tight-lipped smile with a curt nod and slips past you into the house. You close the door behind him with your shoulder, leaning on it for a moment to collect yourself. You still barely feel like a person and the hot handyman really caught you off guard.

“I’ll show you the basement.” You speak up, ushering in front of him and kicking an empty plastic cup out of the way.

You grimace in embarrassment as the plastic rattles.

“I’m sorry-” You barely get out an apology before he's shaking his head, low chuckle leaving his lips.

“No need to apologize. Looks like you had a fun time.” He muses, looking around.

Joel followed behind you as you led him to the basement. He looked around the apartment, all the art hanging on the walls, lots of plants. A decent amount of party remnants lay around the place. He saw these things almost daily, they didn’t bother him. He has never seen you though. He thinks you must be new to the block. He didn't know what to expect when you opened the door, he hasn't had a maintenance call for this house in some time. He definitely didn’t expect a girl who looked to be pantless to answer the door. Your bare legs being warmed by the sun as you opened the door for him. Your face was flushed, he assumed you had done a decent amount of drinking the night before, which would account for the prolonged staring and seeming confusion when he knocked.

“Down here.” You mumble and start down the basement steps.

The lighting is awful; the stairs are steep and make an ugly noise as the both of you trudge down them. You’re still so hungover you’re reminding yourself to breathe, the noticeably cooler air down here making it a bit more bearable. You walk to the back wall, washer and dryer set next to each other. The stale scent of basement is unpleasant, but honestly better than the smell upstairs right now. You stand on your tiptoes to reach the short string that hangs from a single lightbulb and yank it. It flickers, lighting up the basement right before fizzling out.

“Shit.” You mumble, standing on your tiptoes again to yank it a few more times, nothing happening.

“I’m sorry. It was working yesterday.” You apologize.

Joel sighs softly, shrugging his shoulders before setting his toolbox down.

“S’alright. I can replace it.” He says smoothly.

“I got a flashlight.” He says over his shoulder while digging through his tool belt.

“Would ya hold this for me, darlin’?” He says, handing you a compact flashlight from his toolbelt.

Your chest tightens. It shouldn’t. You’re vulnerable right now. Hungover, tired and now flustered? The way that sweet name rolled effortlessly off his lips made your face flush. You were grateful that it was so dark.

Joel wiggled the flashlight in front of you, clearing his throat.

You nod and take it, clicking it on and holding the light on the dryer, hands trembling from your hangover. Not because you thought about him calling you that sweet name daily. That would be ridiculous. Joel mumbles a thank you.

Joel groans quietly as he kneels in front of the dryer, starting to unscrew the panel. You widen your eyes and quickly push out the thoughts that come flooding after he groans. You stand to the side and hold the light. You can't help but watch his hands.

Big. Skilled. Calm.

Every movement he made was calculated. Your eyes flicker to his forearms, watching how his muscles flex under his tanned skin. Then your eyes fall to his broad shoulders. His shirt stretched tight enough over his back to highlight the muscles there. They’re not protruding, bodybuilder muscles. But the kind of muscles you get from doing work like this for what you can assume is a long time.

The grey hairs you noticed earlier are more focused at his temples, fading into the dark brown beautifully. He's breathing quietly as he works, ribs expanding against the fabric of his shirt. You became very aware of how quiet it is, a cold basement filled with his breathing and quiet clinks of his tools. You’re speaking quietly before you even know what words are leaving your lips.

“So.. Do you need anything else from me? Other than manning the flashlight?”

“Do you have coffee?” Joel answers without looking away from his work.

You smile to yourself.

“I’ve got some. It's probably terrible, though.”

Joel turns his head, glancing at you over his shoulder.

“I appreciate the warning.”

You handed him the flashlight and watched him hold it between his teeth, brows furrowing as he worked. The sight made you freeze for a second before making your way into the kitchen, fumbling with the coffee maker, then the coffee grounds and the mug. You were nervous. That suggestion of a smile when he looked over his shoulder did you in.

He is a beautiful man.

And your sick, touch-starved, hungover brain is taking in every inch of him.

The coffee maker gurgles, spitting dark liquid into the mug. You closed your eyes, leaning against the counter, the cool granite pressing into your lower stomach. You breathe in deeply through your nose, the smell was comforting. You opened your eyes and breathed out, creaking basement steps causing you to turn your attention there.

“Hey.” Joel speaks up.

He’s standing at the top of the steps, setting his tool box on the ground to pull a rag from his back pocket, wiping his hands on it and then stuffing it back in his pocket. His shoulder pressed into the door frame as he leaned there.

You watch him closely, watch how his thick fingers flex and curl while wiping the grease off of the other, and then they switch. You swallow thickly. Is it getting hot in here?

“How do you like it?” You blurt out awkwardly, peeling your eyes from his hands to look at him.

Fuck.

“Huh?” Joel furrows his eyebrows.

You look to the coffee maker, then to him. You gesture to it as it spurts out the last of the brewed liquid.

“Coffee.” You say, eyes narrowing slightly.

“Oh. Black.” He responds and you grimace at the thought.

He chuckles at your reaction, taking the mug as you offered it. You ignored the shiver up your spine as your fingers brushed his. Warm.

“Thank you, darlin’.” He muttered.

Oh fuck, there it is again.

You nod your head and pull yourself up to sit on the counter, swaying your feet as they dangle. Joel takes a long sip, sighing softly after he swallows. You watch the muscles in his neck and his adams apple bob as he swallows. You think you want to kiss him there.

What the fuck.

Why would you think that?

Your inner monologue is running a mile a minute. The angel and devil on your shoulders shouting back and forth.

he looks good. he’s just a man performing a paid service. but he's standing here in your kitchen, drinking from your mug. performing a service for you. you offered that coffee to him. he accepted it, he wants more. he wants to finish the coffee and leave your apartment that still has party trash almost everywhere. look at the way his lips wrap around the ceramic rim of the mug and imagine it's your-

“Dryer’s fine.” He draws after the long sip of coffee.

His voice pulls you from your daydream, sitting up straighter as you listen to him. Your face is hot and your stomach turns. Not from the disgusting amount of liquor you consumed, but from the thought of him using those lips for-

“Belt was loose. I tightened it. But I’ll have t’come back to swap out that bulb down there.”

Damn. He got you again.

You nod your head, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Think I’ll survive the darkness until then.” You smile.

Joel shakes his head after taking another sip of coffee.

“Shouldn’t take long.Submit a new ticket n’ mark it urgent f’ya need to. Shouldn’t be down there in the dark anyways.” He says cooly, swirling around the coffee that's left in the mug.

“Should I pretend it's urgent?” You ask, tilting your head, trying to read his body language.

Joel sucks his teeth. A quiet breathy laugh passing his lips, so faint you’re second guessing if you actually heard it.

“I didn’t say that.” He speaks a little softer.

He looks up from his coffee to you. You look back at his big, brown eyes. They narrowed slightly, as if he was trying to read your body language.

He gave you a look. Part warning. Part amused.

You want him to talk. He’s hotter when he's talking. Which is saying a lot because he's standing silent in front of you and you swear he's glowing.

What the fuck is wrong with you.

His gaze makes you feel self-conscious. It's not invasive. Just calm. Present.

You’re nervous and antsy as he looks. You push yourself off of the counter, ‘hmph’ing quietly as you land on the ground. You turn and fill another mug with coffee, reaching for sugar and stirring some in.

Joel watches, you can feel his eyes. You pretend not to notice though.

“You always make offers like this to the maintenance guy?” He speaks up after a moment, finishing what's in his mug and resting it on the counter, not far from you.

You smile and look over to him briefly before going back to your mug.

“Only if he looks like he kills spiders without flinching. Only been here a week and I’ve seen about nine of them.”

“What a weird standard.” He chuckles.

“High standards keep me single.” You stifle a laugh, looking at him again.

Your face drops almost immediately. His brows were knit together. Why did you say that? God, you’re nervous and sweaty and hungover and embarrassing yourself in front of hot maintenance guy Joel.

“I was kidding.” You blurt out quickly.

“I wasn’t really- But I was. Kidding.” You say through short breaths, eyes frantically searching his face.

Fuck, he’s been here less than an hour and you’re already freaking him out. You want the floor to open up and swallow you whole right now.

“You’re funny.” He says, face softening.

He leans down to pick up his toolbox.

“Thanks for the coffee...” He trails off, searching.

Your brain is working for the first time today. You realize you never told him your name. You chirp up, telling him your name. He nods once and repeats it, smiling.

“Submit the bulb request f’ya want it fixed.” He says smoothly.

You swallow and nod, following behind him like a puppy as he walks towards the front door again.

“Okay.” You say.

“See ya ‘round, darlin’.” He draws, offering another polite smile before closing the door behind him.

Then he’s gone.

The place is quiet again. You lean back against the door, tossing your head back against it, exhaling so hard your ribcage deflates.

Your coffee has gone cold. You can’t bring yourself to care.

Your face is warm, your mind is racing, and your body is very aware of how long it's been since you liked someone. What the hell was that? Like him? You just saw him for the first time, literally an hour ago. Why did he smile like that? He thinks I’m funny? The third ‘darlin’ from his sweet velvet draw felt like the nail in the coffin.

Are you losing it?

Your phone vibrated, silencing your rambling mind for a moment.

A text from Ellie.

E: just got a text that the maintenance appointment was complete. is the dryer working?

You sigh.

You: yup, he came and went. the lightbulb blew down there. can you send me the portal info so i can make another request?

You restrain yourself from adding that he was drop dead gorgeous and had arms you wanted wrapped around your head.

Another text.

E: you don’t know how to change a fucking lightbulb?

God dammit Ellie. You want the really hot man to come back and do another task for you. Do you have to spell it out for her?

You: i can, just he said he’d come back and do it. just need to place a request

E: whatever you say princess. i’ll send it over.

You rolled your eyes.

You: thx :)

You settled on that response instead of begging for her to send it right now because you need to guarantee you’ll see Joel again in the near future.

Your phone vibrated again. The portal information from Ellie. You clutched your phone close to your chest, screwed your eyes shut and tilted your head up to the ceiling.

“Thank you.” You mumble, fully settling into the fact that you’re being boy crazy.

Man crazy.

You correct yourself and download the portal to your phone.

You need a nap.

You need to knock some sense into yourself and take a nap.

You’re blaming your hangover for the umpteenth time today. That's what has you feeling so caught up, you’re sure of it.

You don’t know if you could blame your hangover when you found your hand shoved in your panties not long later. The way his forearms moved, strong, steady and confident, ingrained in your brain.

God, you even found his name spilling from your lips more than once.

You’re fucked.

You bring him into the kitchen and gesture your arms at the spread.

“We got some work to do, cowboy.”

Joel raises an eyebrow, his smile still there until suddenly it's not.

“My god, look at you.” He takes a step closer, grabbing your gesturing hands and flipping them palm up.

You wince when he drags his thumb over the scrapes.

“They hurt when you touch ‘em.” You hiss, jerking them closer to your body, but still in his grasp.

“They look like they hurt.” He sucks his teeth and shakes his head. “Where else you scraped up, hm? This it?”

You shake your head. You feel like a dog with its tail between its legs.

“My knees. Well, knee- really. The one got the worst of it, the other one is fine.” You kick out one of your legs to display the scrape to him.

It’s red and angry but scabbed over. You weren’t sugarcoating it. They really weren’t bothering you unless they were being touched. Your hands were different, dull throbs in them from being used constantly. It was hard to avoid. But you’re more than willing to pay for your crime of getting too drunk and allowing yourself to interact with Owen.

“Christ.” He mutters and shakes his head.

He’s looking at you like he’s the one who just got scraped up, like he’s in physical pain. His big, brown, puppy dog eyes are boring into you.

“Alright, stop with the pity party.” You wave him off with a hand. “Need your help.”

You ignore the throb in your chest as his face softens, still laced with an ounce of concern. His shoulders relax while he exhales, eyes flickering between you and the counter.

“Okay, baby. Give me the low down.” His voice practically drips from his lips.

You're reminded of how it sounded over the phone last night. Slow, low and raspy. Southern twang was prominent when heavy with sleep. All of that made the filthy words he spoke that much better. The way he calls you baby, not even in a bedroom sense. But after you told him you didn’t like the way it sounded coming from another guy's mouth- he made sure to throw it in there.

You explain everything, tell him about the cake, fudge icing, and the black cocoa powder you use. You tell him that it gives a beautiful bitter taste that balances out when you cut it with half of a regular cocoa powder, but the color. The color takes it to a different level. It’s black and velvet. It’s beautiful.

“That's what makes Oreos so dark.” You tell him.

He gives you a kind of deadpan look.

“You got a lotta shit stored up here, huh?” He smiles down at you, tapping the top of your head

“A lot is an understatement. Filled with useless information is more accurate.” You cross your eyes, trying to look up at his hand.

He chuckles and removes it, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He looks soft and calm. His presence has a weight to it, a good one. Joel claps his hands together and rubs them. It sounds rough from all the years of labor, but they still touch and cradle you like you’re fragile.

“Like hearin’ what you got to say. C’mon now, show me what I’m ‘posed to be doin’.” He nudges you with his shoulder.

“Okay! Okay.” You laugh breathily.

You have the entire recipe memorized and you’re rattling off measurements and weights of the ingredients. Telling Joel if he’s going to crack the eggs to make sure to do it in a separate bowl, that there are no shells and to make sure that there are no yolks in the separated whites. He makes a face at you when you tell him this. One that has confusion and uncertainty plastered on it.

“Why don’t you do the eggs, darlin’?” He tells you, flashing a sweet smile but you can see the wary behind his eyes.

He does help you though. He greases the pan while you tell him about one of the first times you made this cake alone. You had made it in a decorative bundt pan for Christmas. You were really trying to step it up and show off your skills. It all fell on its head when you took the cake out of the oven, let it cool and tried to turn it over. Stuck. It wouldn’t come out of the pan. You tapped it, smacked it and finally started beating the side of your fist into it and it still didn’t budge. You tell Joel how you cried when presenting it to your parents and all they could do was hug you. You, your dad and your mom ate it right out of the cake pan later that night.

Joel's eyes crinkle when he smiles, the impression of two dimples under his thick beard. He’s got his hands in the pan, twisting and turning them with a butter wrapper to coat the bottom and sides. You try your hardest not to gawk at them working with something other than tools, something softer, something that feels personal to you. He chuckles between your words and his eyes rarely leave you, even if you’re not looking. You can feel them, studying the way you carefully separate the eggs, sprinkling salt in a container until it hits the exact number of grams you need. Your hands are skilled. In a different way then his.

Yours are scraped and bruised up right now but you’re still working meticulously, practiced and with ease. Joel admired this. His heart breaks a little every time he catches a glimpse of one of the angry scrapes. He wants to take over for you, baby you and make sure you don’t feel any pain while doing this. But he swallows the feeling down. He doesn’t want to overstep. You’re a capable little lady, he thinks. He really likes that about you. He didn’t realize he was staring until you said his name in that sweet voice you always do.

“Joel.” Your voice carries a sing-song tone.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to do the honors! Dump it all in the pan.” You smile up at him, gesturing the bowl and spatula to him.

He nods his head and gently takes them from you, tilting the bowl into the pan and scraping it clean with the spatula.

“Okay, now tap in gently on the counter a few times.”

Joel nods again and gently wraps his hands around the pan, tapping it against the counter top. He looks to you for approval and you nod your head.

“Make sure it sits on the middle rack in the oven.” You say softly.

You turn to open the oven door, warmth rushing out and fanning over your body. The gas clicks and kicks on in the oven. You turn to Joel and gesture towards the oven but he’s already bending down to slide the pan onto the rack.

“Perfect.”

“Y’think I did alright?” He chuckles, turning to the sink and washing his hands.

“I think you did great.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, leaning back against the counter and drying his hands off on a dish towel. You wash your hands and walk slowly, stopping in front of him. You take the dish towel from his hands and dry off your own, looking up to him. You pat your hands gently, making sure to not irritate your palms. Your bodies are close, your feet settled between his. You can feel his breath dust over the top of your head.

“C’mere.” He mumbles, wrapping his strong fingers around your wrist and pulling your torso into his.

You stumble forwards,head making contact with his chest. You laugh softly, wrapping your arms around his broad torso, tossing the dish towel somewhere on the counter behind him. His strong arms envelope your frame, wrapping over your shoulders in a bear hug and giving you a tight squeeze. You let out a strained groan at result of the squeezing, Joel lets up on your with a chuckle.

“The sink giving you any trouble?” He asks, smoothing his large palms down your back.

It sends chills from the soles of your feet to the top of your head.

“No, think the fella that fixed it knew what he was doing.” You tease, a cheesy smile fixing itself on your lips.

Joel mirrors the smile, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes and sigh. The warmth of his lips made your belly tumble, the soft fan of his exhale from his nose buried into your hair. It felt good. It felt safe. You remember what he said last night. About calling him, about letting him make sure you got home safe. You think about how quickly he called you when you told him you were sore. How he only reiterated that you should’ve called him last night to help you. He wants to help you. You feel a familiar gentle tug in your chest and it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You’re not scared.

Not of Joel at least.

You are scared of the secret you’re keeping. You’re scared of Ellie coming home and having to figure out what this means. Are you going to tell Ellie? In turn you have to explain he’s your dads friend. Ellie might be turned off by the fact that he’s older but when you turn and tell her he’s also friends with your dad? You don’t know how she’ll react. Actually, fuck that. You have no idea how Joel will react. You need to tell him. The tug in your chest changes to a quickening thud. Your mouth gets dry and you swallow thickly to try and make it better.

“Y’alright, darlin’?” Joel pulls back and looks down at you, feeling you tense up.

You look up, staring blankly for a second. You need to pull yourself together before he questions you more. You won’t be able to keep yourself from spilling everything if you start. Just like that- you snap out of it. Wanting to keep this moment, keep Joel, as pure as possible for the time being. The sharp emptiness in your eyes fade and you let them go soft, switching your brain off so you can focus on Joel. It’s easy to do when he’s standing in front of you. Easy to get lost in his eyes. Studying every hair, every mark, every curve and every crease on his face. The tan from years spent working in the Texas sun. The way the grey in his hair seeps along his temples.

“M’alright.” You tell him, turning your head to press your head against his chest.

The soft whirs of his body fill your head. Then you hear it. The gentle thud behind his chest. You walk your fingers up his torso, pressing your palm against his chest, ignoring the way your scrapes pull when you flatten it against his shirt. You feel it there. He’s real and he’s here.

Joel doesn’t ask you again. He doesn’t ask anything else for sometime. He lets you rest against him, raking his hands up and down your back. He knows something is up, but he doesn’t want to press. Joel just wants to be here for you. He knows you’ll key him in when you want to. Patience is something Joel has a lot of when it comes to this. To you. He surprises himself with that.

You’re the one to pull away, feeling a little too vulnerable for comfort.

“Time to make the icing?” He asks.

You’re surprised when he speaks up, but you nod your head. You feel a little spacey after pulling away from him and maybe he reads that. Because he takes the lead. He’s asking you questions in a soft voice, how much of this to add to that and how he should mix it. He even takes some on the tip of his index finger and holds it out to you.

“S’it taste right?” He gestures with his finger again.

Your eyes flicker between his finger and his face. You lean towards him and lick the icing off of his finger. It makes your cheeks hurt from how sweet it is. But it tastes right. Tastes like it always has. It tastes like home. And Joel. The fudgey chocolate is forward with the salinity of his skin on the back end. Joel watches you carefully like he can see the gears turning in your brain. It’s not sexual but it’s intimate.

“Tastes right.” You tell him.

He smiles warmly. You like the way he’s taking control. Just silently taking control. You like how dominant he is. Not in the fact that he’s ordering and demanding you around, not that at all. But noticing there's a problem and taking care of it. Taking care of you. He handles it with ease.

You jump when the timer goes off and Joel’s already pulling the oven door down.

“Look ready to you?” He asks, stepping to the side.

You squint and lean down, tapping the top of the cake with your finger. It's hot but not hot enough for you to pull back quickly. Just tap it to see the spring of the cake. You look at him and nod.

“It feels ready.”

“You can tell just by touchin’?” He asks, grabbing the oven mitts and slipping them on his hands.

“Yeah. It’s bouncy.” You say, leaning against the counter and watching him.

“Huh. You’ll have to tell me what you’re seein’. Teach me how to tell.” He smiles, setting the cake pan on the top of the oven.

You walk over and tap the top a few more times.

“Not wiggly. It’s bouncing back, there's a nice toasty feel to it. It’s done.”

Joel nods his head, taking off the oven mitts and laying them down on the counter.

“When do you have to head out?” He asks, coming to stand next to you.

You sigh and look at the clock on the oven.

“Maybe an hour.” You shrug.

There's a beat.

“Thank you for coming over.”

“I like seein’ you.” He tells you.

Your face grows warm at his admission. You like seeing him, too.

“I like hearin’ you.” He continues, a sly smirk toying at the corner of his lips.

Joel walks towards you, pinning you against the counter top with his hips. His hands rest on the counter at either side of you. You want to hide your face, embarrassed as he mentioned last night.

“Yeah?” You tease.

“Yeah.” He nods his head with a light laugh.

You laugh breathily and lean up to press a soft kiss to his lips. He tastes like chocolate. He’s warm, soft and inviting. He doesn’t break the kiss and neither do you. Joel tilts his head, angling his lips down to you. You respond, moving with him in sync. Your hands skid up his torso and over his shoulders to link behind his neck. He sighs softly through his nose, hands moving from the counter to rest on your hips. He doesn’t deepen the kiss right away. He keeps it light and playful. He’s working you up. He knows it too. He’s waiting for you to make the move. You don’t take long to do it. You stand on your tippy toes, pushing your tongue past his lips and sighing softly once you feel his.

“Happy you called last night.” He tells you through kisses.

You hum as response, too eager to continue kissing him to pass the time.

“Wanted to come over here real bad, y’know.” He keeps pulling away from your mouth to speak.

His lips connect with your jaw, then down the length of your neck, still whispering into your skin.

“Sounded real pretty.”

You bite back a small noise, letting your head fall into your shoulder, granting him more room to move about. His teeth sink into the soft spot where your neck meets your shoulder and you tug his head back by his hair.

“Don’t leave a mark there.” You tell him, though you’re ready to crumble in his hands if he tries again.

“Don’t want me to leave a little bite on you?” He asks, peering up at you from his hunched position. “Don’t want anyone to see?”

“Not my dad.” You hiss halfheartedly at him.

He looks down to the spot, the soft indent of his teeth marks are still on your glistening skin. He drags the flat of his tongue over it before placing a kiss there instead. You squirm against him and huff out a breath.

“You’re teasing.” You state obviously.

“You want me to stop?”

“No.” You say too quickly.

He pulls back anyway.

“I said no.” You repeat and he chuckles.

“I heard you.” Is all he says.

You whine in frustration and throw your head forward into his chest.

“You need to finish the cake.” He reminds you.

You grunt into his shirt in response. He doesn’t pull away from you, just lets you hang out there for a moment.

“I know.” You finally mumble into him.

“Alright, sweetheart.”

“You’re kinda fucked up for that.”

Joel furrows his eyebrows.

“For what?”

You look at him like he’s got three heads. He steps back and tilts his head, waiting for you to explain. You gesture your hands towards him and then yourself.

“Getting me all worked up then reminding me that I have shit to do that isn’t this.” You wave your hands around at him.

He’s got a sly fucking smirk on his face.

“This?” He mocks your hand movements.

“Yes. Fucked up.” You repeat and sigh deeply.

You ignore his proud chuckles and you grumble something under your breath. You are cutting it close on your time. But Joel is here, in your kitchen. He helped you bake a cake, make the icing and just kissed you like you meant the world to him. How could you be in a rush to get away from him?

You turn the cake upside down onto a dish. It’s no longer steaming and it's cool to the touch. He’s right behind you, placing the bowl of icing at your side. You look at him over your shoulder, feigning annoyance. He notices and doesn't say anything, but he does smile. He settles behind you, his hands finding their place on your hips, one of his hands slipping to rest on your lower stomach. He sways as you move, adding icing to the cake with a spatula. He’s humming softly into your hair, pressing the occasional soft kiss right above your ear. It feels normal and easy. The warm weight of Joel pressed behind you while you’re doing something so mundane, so domestic. It makes your stomach fill with butterflies while you lean back into him.

Joel draws small circles with his thumb at your hip, slipped it under the material of your shirt. He thinks you’re so soft. It drives him insane. He was hesitant to wrap his arms around you like this. It feels different than the sexual intimacy that the both of you shared previously. When he felt you melt into his hold, he swore his heart kicked up. He has a soft spot for you.

Something about you is comforting. Joel hasn’t had that in so long, it’s too hard to push it away. He’s spent too many nights alone, drinking with his brother while he rambles about all the girls he’s been seeing. Joel never told him, but he was jealous. Jealous that he could let anybody in. Jealous at how easy his brother made conversation. He even tried setting Joel up a few times but it always fell flat. He’d had relationships after his failed marriage, seen the same girl more than once. But even since that, it’s been quite some time. You pushed and prodded, made little comments here and there that made Joel curious. You don’t feel like them. Joel doesn’t feel like he has to entertain, or put on a show. He doesn’t feel like he has any expectations to meet. He can just be himself.

You swirl the spatula around on the top, creating a little design out of divots and peaks.

“Looks real good, baby.” He whispers into your hair.

You stop and tilt your head back against his shoulder, looking at him through your lashes. He pulled back to look down at you. The two of you share a sweet look, breathing each other in. He always smells the same. Clean and smokey. Warm with a hearty, earthy tone. It’s comforting. You find yourself wishing your pillow smelled like it some nights.

“Wanna clean the spatula?” You ask with a smile, holding it up and turning around in his arms.

He nods and licks it as you hold it close. You push it into his lip, smearing a glob of the chocolate icing over his plump lower lip. He widens his eyes and chuckles. Joel brings up his thumb to swipe the chocolate off his lower lip.

“Really?” He teases with a tut of his tongue.

You laugh lightly and nod.

“Couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you wanna taste it again?” He raises an eyebrow, soft glint in his eye.

You open your mouth to answer and Joel lays the chocolate covered pad of his thumb on your tongue. You blink up at him, wrapping your lips around his thick digit and pushing your tongue into the icing. He sighs heavily through his nose, his other fingers resting at the side of your throat. He just watches you for a moment. You slowly hollow your cheeks around his thumb, sucking off the icing and releasing it with a small ‘pop’.

Joel loosely wraps his hand at the base of your throat. He pushes his slick thumb into the bottom of your jaw to keep your head tilted back against him.

“You look real pretty like that, s’a shame you gotta go, darlin’.” He whispers in a gravelly voice.

Your thighs twitch and press together, the syrupy words going right to your core.

“A shame?” You speak just above a whisper.

“Yeah, baby. A real damn shame.” He repeats.

“Why’s that?” You press him.

“Got me all worked up lookin’ the way you do.” He squeezes your hip and you feel your stomach tighten.

You push your hips back into him. Joel Miller is no liar. You feel him hard, pressed into the curve of your ass. If he didn’t have the hold on you that he does, you swore your knees would give out right then. You need him. Badly.

“Feel that?” His voice snaps you out of your daydream.

You nod to the best of your ability, despite the gentle grip he has on your throat.

“Don’t think I forgot what I told you last night. Did you forget?” He’s using such a condescending tone but fuck- coming from his filthy mouth?

It couldn’t sound better.

“I didn’t forget.”

“What did I tell you, then?” He presses his fingers more firmly into your jaw.

You clam up all of a sudden. He’s had you sprawled out on the counter with his head between your thighs and now you’re nervous? He just has that effect on you. He moves so confidently, there's little room to doubt that he doesn’t know what he’s doing. It’s intimidating in the best way possible. The way he makes you speak up, won’t touch you or give you what you need until you do what he asks of you. Even if it’s just a simple: ‘What did I tell you, then?’

“You said next time you see me..” Joel feels your throat contract under his hand as you swallow thickly. He’s watching you expectantly. “You’ll make me make a mess on your cock.” You’re surprised he could hear you given how softly it came out.

“That's why it's a shame baby, you’re making me a dishonest man.” He whispers into your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your lobe and then just below it.

He pushes his hips more firmly into your ass, pinning your hips against the counter. You can feel him breathe behind you. Chest slowly rising and falling. It’s embarrassing how easily he’s working you up. You’re more than positive he can feel the quick pulse of your heart just under your jaw, while he’s remaining calm and composed behind you.

“Since you’ve gotta go, I’ll tell you what-“ He proposes, tilting your head to the side while he peppers a soft kiss on your throat.

“I wanna take my time with you, sweetheart. Don’t wanna rush that one bit. Want to make sure you’re nice and worked up for me, yeah?” He whispers into your skin, you can’t help but let out a small noise.

His warm breath against your sensitive skin is making you shudder, your belly doing somersaults.

“You go ‘head and leave me today and I’ll make sure I make it up to you. How’s that sound, darlin’?” He continues to press gentle kisses to the side of your neck.

“S-Sounds good, Joel.” You stutter, sucking in a sharp breath.

He chuckles against your skin, biting gently there. Joel pulls back and turns your head towards him, pressing another soft kiss to your lips this time. He pulls back and gently squeezes the base of your throat.

“You gotta get goin’.” He reminds you.

You just stand there, looking at him. With that fucking smug look on his face, like he knows he got you all trussed up with no way to release. You’re in awe. How does he know exactly what to do, exactly what to say to hit you in all the right places?

“You’re no help. Keep me here later than I need to be.” You bite back at him.

You’re not mad at him. At all. Frustrated? Yes. Sexually frustrated to be specific.

“C’mon. I’ll help you to the car, baby.” He gives your shoulder a squeeze before turning and picking up the cake.

You stand there again- in awe. Joel Miller is one hell of a man. He keeps you on your toes. You hurry up behind him and slip on your shoes. He waits by your car and slips the cake onto the passenger seat when you unlock it. He reaches for you but hesitates. You’re right outside your house. Joel is supposed to be your maintenance man. He works on the neighbors' houses. You could hear his voice plain as day in your own head. You nod your head understandingly.

“It’s alright.” You reassure him with a small nod.

He gives a sympathetic smile.

“You text me when you get there. Alright, darlin’?”

“I will.” You nod.

He takes your hand in his and gives it a soft squeeze, careful to not irritate the scrapes.

“And take care’a these.” He adds on at the end.

You sigh softly and nod again before getting in the car. You sit there for a moment, watching Joel get into his truck and pull away before you pull out of your spot.

You knock on your dad’s front door, cake in hand.

“Aw, there she is. Startin’ to think you weren’t comin’, kid.” He opens the door with a smile, dish towel thrown over one of his shoulders.

“Hey, Dad.” You greet him with a smile.

He pulls you into a side hug and rubs his hand up your shoulder. A low whistle escapes his lips.

“Hooo boy. I never get tired’a seein’ this ol’ thing.” He gestures to the cake, taking it out of your hands and placing it on the counter.

He adjusts it a few times, taking a step back to admire it. You shake your head at his goofy antics.

“You’d think it had a rack the way I’m lookin’ at it, huh?” He looks over his shoulder to you.

You scrunch up your face and make a ‘blagh’ noise.

“Dad- come on.” You say, huffing in distaste.

He pats your shoulder and directs you to the dining room table, like you forgot where it was. He’s an oddball for sure You almost form a tear, the plate before you looks great. You’ve missed your Dad a lot but you might miss his cooking more. Wait, let you be specific. His grilling. You miss his grilling. He could grill whatever to absolute perfection. But for all that is good in the world, keep him away from a stove.

“This looks so good.” You tell him, smiling wide.

“Well it ain’t gettin’ any hotter. Sit and start chowin’ down kiddo.” He says while sitting across from you.

You comply without a second request, plopping down in the chair. He digs in while starting with pleasantries.

“How’s the apartment?”

“Good.” You say through a mouth full.

“When do you start the diner backup?” It’s his turn to talk through a full mouth.

“Tomorrow.” You swallow and take a sip of water.

“Ellie will be back tonight. I gotta pick her and Dina up really late.” You say before he can get more words out.

“I didn’t ask that.” He says, furrowing his eyebrows.

“But you were gonna, right?” You raise a brow.

He blinks at you, then looks down at his plate, shrugging his shoulders and shoving a chunk of steak into his mouth.

“Got me there, kid.” He says with a smile, one cheek bulging out.

He starts telling you about the side job he was at today. You take this opportunity to text Joel under the table:

You: made it here alive

He responds maybe a minute later.

Joel: I was getting worried

Worried? Was he thinking about you, then?

Joel: Now get off your phone. Bad manners.

You kinda like it when he talks to you like that.

Your dad is oblivious, telling you how the home owners have been a real pain in his ass. He’s ordering custom tile for their bathroom, he installs it. They decide they don’t like it anymore. So on and so forth. He’s changed the bathroom tile three times. You laugh at his frustration. It’s valid frustration but you can’t help but smile at the way he explains it. Like he’s done and tired of it, but you know he’s not. He loves doing it. That's why he tortures himself with it.

“That’s why, when this jobs done- I’m throwin’ a damn party.”

“A party?” You laugh.

“More like a barbeque, I guess.”

You nod your head, pursing your lips in thought.

“Been a while since you had one of those, it’ll be really nice.” You say genuinely.

He takes a long rip of a beer before answering.

“I know. I’ll invite some of the neighbors, friends and-“ He pauses, looking into his beer bottle.

You furrow your eyebrows and lean forward, waiting for him to continue.

“You- uh.. Heard from your Mom lately, hun?”

Oh.

It stings a little.

You don’t know why. Maybe it's the sad look in your Dad’s eyes when he asks about her. You don’t know if he’s sad for your sake, or for his own.

“Not since last year.” You say blankly. “Have you?”

He sucks his teeth while shaking his head stiffly.

“Why?” You ask in a flat tone.

“Was just gon’ say you’re more than welcome to invite her to it if you want.” He shrugs his shoulders.

You direct your attention to a stay string that sticks out of the seat cushion. You pick at it aggressively. You don’t respond. He doesn’t seem to mind. You think over the situation, playing scenario after scenario over in your brain before you decide you don’t want to deal with that. You don’t think you’ll ask. But it stays in the back of your mind.

When dinner is done, you do the dishes. You’re drying the plates and putting them away when he grabs your wrist, turning your hand over. He’s concerned, asking you about the scrapes. You wave him off and tell him you tripped on some uneven sidewalk the other day. He gives you a look, narrowing his eyes like he knows you’re not telling the whole truth. But he doesn’t press. He accepts that answer for now.

The two of you are sitting on the couch, his wide eyes boring into the TV that's playing a baseball game a little too loudly. Your dad has cleared half the cake. After he went back for a second slice, he just brought over the whole dish and has been attacking it with a fork since then. You position yourself more comfortably and start losing yourself in the game.

Joel Miller was pacing in his bedroom. His heavy boots made contact with the floor over and over again. Not long ago, he told you his visits needed to be more sparse. More secretive. Careful and quiet. He hasn’t enforced it or even brought it up since then. He can’t bring himself to. He likes seeing you. Especially this morning, how you looked at him while he helped you in the kitchen. The way your eyes, round as coins blinked up at him as he stood behind you. His chest hurt in the best way. He keeps telling himself not to get comfortable, because then he gets dumb. Too wrapped up in the what if’s and your pretty words.

“Fuck me.” Joel mutters while sitting down on the edge of his bed.

He kicks off his work boots and nudges them to the side. He’s hunched over, thumb and forefinger pinging the bridge of his nose like it’ll make him think more clearly. It isn’t working. He’s itching to text you again even though he clearly stated it was ‘bad manners’. Fuck, why did he say that? Is the lack of response because you’re listening to him, or did it turn you off? He doesn’t think it turned you off. If he remembers correctly, your body responds beautifully to demands he makes. Usually in a different context.

Fuck.

This is what he means. Babbling and going on like some school boy with a crush. The thick wall he spent years and years building up isn’t as strong as he thought.

Who would build a wall just to let it crumble?

If you’re the one breaking it down?

Joel.

Joel would let it crumble.

Knocking on your car window wakes you up. You jump, terrified. You don’t even remember falling asleep.

The last thing you do remember is Ellie texting you that they landed and need to grab their bags. Her and Dina are staring into your car window. Knocking on it again, Ellie makes a noise of excitement.

“Open up!!” It’s muffled.

You scramble to unlock the car, popping the trunk next. Before the sleep is out of your eyes, you’re out of the car and helping them load their bags into the trunk. Dina and Ellie are telling you all about their trip, one riffing off the other's story. All about Dina’s sister and her boy drama. It makes you laugh. It feels nice to have both of them back. Dina tells you about the museum they visited while they were there and how the workers let Ellie sit in the spaceship- even if it was only meant for children under 10. Ellie talks about how nice the local farmers market was. How they lived off of the local fruits and veggies there for the whole trip. They invite you to come next time.

You drop off Dina at her house, help ELlie get her bags out of the car and leave them to say their goodbyes.

“Thank you!” Dina yells and waves her arm from her front step.

You and Ellie watch her walk in the house and shut the door before pulling away.

It’s just the two of you now.

“You’d love that farm.” Ellie says with a wide smile.

“I bet I would. Give me a break from all the concrete around here.” You say jokingly.

Ellie chuckles and nods her head. She sighs softly and leans into the car seat.

“Have you been bored out of your mind since I left?” She teases.

No, not exactly.

“Yes. Nothing to do. I’ll start the diner tomorrow though.”

You look at Ellie quickly. She has a look on her face, like she’s waiting for you to finish your summary. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. You don’t say anything.

“So,” Ellie starts and you cringe at the tone.

It’s slow and wary. Not usually how the two of you speak to each other. It hangs in the air. Your eyes flicker to her and then back to the road.

“So.. Spit it out.” You say.

“Owen.” Ellie blurts out.

You want to feel Jesse’s windpipe collapse under your sore palms right now.

Ellie crosses her arms over her chest, turning her torso to you.

“What about him?” You say, trying to sound casual as you approach your street, hoping she will drop it.

“No way you’re gonna act like that. Why wouldn’t you tell me?” She sounds upset and she has the right to be.

You inhale deeply and grip the steering wheel, the scrapes on your palms pinching against the leather.

“It was nothing.”

“Nothing? That’s not what Jesse said.” Ellie bites back.

The car rolls to a stop. You push the gear shift into park and don’t say a word. You’re hoping your silence is enough of an answer for her.

“You fucking hate Owen.” Ellie retorts, her tone growing sharper.

It hurts. There's an aching throb in your chest weighing you into the seat of the car.

“I thought maybe there’d be something. Maybe I wasn’t giving him the time of day.”

“I’m sorry. Have you gone stupid since I left?”

That throb turns into a stab while you toss your hands up in defeat, not knowing what else to say. Her eyes widen and she grabs at your wrist, turning it over. The dull street light filled the front of the car in a warm orange glow that gave Ellie just enough to catch the concrete burn on them.

“Oh- fuck. This is nothing.” You pull your hand away from her while practically rolling your eyes.

It is not a big deal. You refuse to let her make it one. Everyone is out here acting like your hands are about to fall off when in reality it’s just simple scraped skin.

“Nothing? What the fuck is going on? You’ve been so quiet the past week.” She isn’t facing you anymore but her tone is still just as sharp.

“God, you’re all acting like the world is fucking falling apart. I got drunk, Jesse was giving me the drinks by the way-” Your words are flowing quickly at Ellie. “Owen came in and- does it really fucking matter? We didn’t do anything. Jesse ripped me out of there and all we did was talk. Owen bought me drinks and I drank them.”

Your words are jumbling, coming out quicker and louder. You didn’t mean for them to come out like that. They’re ripping right out of your throat all raw and sore.

“Does it really fucking matter?” Ellie repeats your words to you and it stings.

“Yes, it fucking matters,” She spits your name at you, turning to face you again. “You haven’t called me in fucking days. Been dicking my text left and right. Didn’t say fuck all about Owen. I-..” She stops to take a breath and calm her tone. “I found out from fucking Jesse. You didn’t say anything to me. I’m so sorry if it feels like nothing to you but there's no reason to shut me out. I don’t understand.”

“There's nothing to understand!” You raise your voice at her. “I’m fucking fine!”

What feels like hot liquid spills down your throat when you swallow harshly. It’s raw. Pain is stemming from your palms. You look down and see your knuckles are white, nails pressing into the cut up flesh. You groan and throw your hands into your lap. The familiar burn in your eyes lets you know what's coming and you can’t let it. You felt like you were shaken up, all the fizz was building and building and millimeters away from spilling over the top. Ellie stares in bewilderment at your tone.

“What happened since I left? Did you have an episode?” Her face relaxes, voice softer than it was moments before.

You want to scoff and roll your eyes at her but you don’t. She’s coming from a place of love. It’s not Ellie’s fault you’ve got yourself wrapped up in this. She extends her hand over the center console and all you can do is look at it for a moment.

The lump in your throat is forced down with a harsh swallow while you reach your hand out to hers and shake your head. The warmth of Ellie’s hand wraps around your own and she gives a soft squeeze.

“No. I’m okay.” You lie.

To Ellie.

To your Dad.

To Joel.

You practically flew up the steps and into the shower. You closed your eyes, warm water spilling over your skin. It made you shudder. 

Your mind wandered while you lathered shampoo in your hair.

What would Joel be wearing today? How long can you keep him here just to change a lightbulb? Should you have a black coffee ready for him at the door? 

Do you sound crazy?

Yes.

Especially since you didn’t even know if it was going to be Joel coming to fix the bulb. There could be a rotation of men. But you’d bet that they don’t look like him.

You rinse your hair and reach for your body wash. Strawberry. 

What scent does Joel use?

Okay, that's enough brain. Stop it. 

You stepped out of the shower into a steam filled bathroom and immediately checked the time. You took your time, skin routine, combing your hair so it lays nice. Whole nine yards. 

It’s not a date. It’s not even coffee. It’s a man replacing a light bulb. 

But no harm in looking like you’re not still hungover from three days ago.

You tried on three different shirts and maybe five pairs of bottoms. You’re overthinking this in the worst way. Jeans didn’t show enough skin, and it was hot. Tank top had too much skin. You want to dress nice, but not so nice that it's obvious you’re ready to throw yourself at him when he says the words.

How can you say ‘I think you’re hot’ with an outfit?

You settled on a pair of grey sweat shorts, and a too tight black shirt. One that hugged your skin and dipped nicely at the collar. Shows off the smallest amount of skin between the hem and the band of your shorts. This should be okay.

You even found the time for some mascara. No harm in that, right?

You were downstairs moments before you heard three strong knocks at the door. Firm, same rhythm as before. You couldn’t help but smile as you made your way to the door. 

Sounds like the knocks you heard the other day.

Frantically, your fingers wrap around the knob and twist. You take a deep breath and open it.

There he is in all his glory, sun shining behind him, spilling over his tanned features.

“Mornin’ darlin.” He said smoothly

Gut punch.

“Mornin’ Joel.” You beam up to him, ignoring the sick way your stomach twisted with his words. 

He had a different shirt on. This one looked to be a stiffer material, collared and long sleeves.

Small patch above the pocket reading; J. Miller.

You were happy he opted to push the sleeves up his arms, bunching them at his elbows to expose his fucking beautiful arms.

Tanned and strong with dark hair adorning them. A thick banded watch on his left wrist. Small, thin scars littered here and there, evidence of scrapes from years of working with his hands. Beautiful nonetheless. 

Invite him in.

“Didn’t expect to see you again so soon. C’mon in.” You say and step to the side, opening the door wider.

He nods politely and slips past you. You pretend not to notice your skin on fire when the outside of his arm brushes your chest. You can’t ignore the way he smells though, that clean laundry smell again, with sawdust and him. You close the door behind him and walk into the living room. You think you want a body wash that smells like him. Suddenly your strawberry scented one was no longer appealing, especially when the latter was being wrapped up in his smell.

“Disappointed?” He asks and raises an eyebrow, the smile on his lips making you swoon.

His playfulness caught you off guard. He was polite and calm last time, a comment or two that could’ve been playful. But there was no mistaking this one. God, could he even be flirting?

He was flirting. Innocent enough.

“Not the word I’d use.” You were proud of how quick you came back.

It’s his turn to be caught off guard. Joel notes how confident you are in your words. He also notes how young you are- or maybe not young. Just younger than him. 

He shook his head and sucked his teeth.

“S’a few of us. But told ya I’d fix it. I picked this one up.” He doesn’t elaborate. 

He doesn’t need to. But you want him to. You want to listen to him talk for hours. You want to know how he sounds when speaking something soft and filthy or the lewd noises that fall from his lips.

“No crazy party last night?” He changed the subject, keeping it light hearted. 

You laugh and shake your head.

“No! No more of them for a while, I hope. Just got to the point where my shoes don’t stick to the floor anymore.” You shudder at the thought and he chuckles.

He nods his head and looks around, a little slowly you think. He's taking in everything, the plants, the art, the dumb little decor pillow wedged into the corner of the couch. He checked it out the other day, but this time he really took it in. This place already feels lived-in. Comfortable. It feels different. You look different. Not awfully hungover, he thinks. 

Pretty. 

Joel thought you looked pretty the other day, too. You start doing the same, over analyzing every inch of your living space. He takes a moment to glance you over, his dark eyes tracing up the exposed skin of your legs and pausing when he sees the sliver of skin between your top and shorts. He doesn’t let his gaze linger long but he does get caught by you. The narrowing of your eyes should be enough to tell him you’re trouble. 

You’re just here for a lightbulb. He reminds himself.

He takes the initiative to turn towards the basement door. You don’t get the chance to overthink his lingering stare, following quickly behind him to catch up. He pulls a big flashlight from his tool belt, clicks it on while making his way down the steps. You’re behind him this time, watching the way he ducks to avoid the ceiling. His brooding shoulders are tight in his shirt. You want to sink your nails into his shoulders, maybe even your teeth.

Damn.

Joel stops under the blown light bulb. The way his back moved beneath his shirt had you in a trance- you almost walked right into his broad frame. For the second time this week you’re both standing in the dark, cool basement. 

He gestures the flashlight to you. 

“You mind holdin’ that steady? Were shakin’ like a leaf last time.” He looks at you.

You hoped he didn’t see the blush creeping up your face, but he did. He liked it, too. You were so dehydrated and nauseous your hands were absolutely shaking when you held the flashlight for him last time. It makes your belly twist that he even remembered that. 

“Think I can. As long as you don’t electrocute yourself. I’m not CPR-certified.” You shake your head and shrug your shoulders.

“That's comforting.” He says dryly, laced with sarcasm.

You take it and hold it tight. He's digging around in his tool box. This is a different one than what you saw a few days ago. This ones bigger. He pulls a smaller box out of it, a picture of a lightbulb on the side of it. You stop looking at the dumb box and direct your attention to his face. His brows are drawn together in concentration as he turns the box over a few times. His jaw. His hands. He moves deliberately. He looks fucking good.

“You always this serious while you work?” 

You watch his brows knit together, the flashlight casting heavy shadows across his face.

He sucks his teeth. “Well, darlin’.” He says smoothly, glancing at you for a second, squinting his eyes. “You’re holdin’ that bright light inches from my face. Not so serious as much as I’m tryna’ save what's left’a my eyesight.”

“Shit- Sorry.” You mumble and move the flashlight so it's no longer blinding him. 

The light was barely on his hands before that, you were too concerned with illuminating his face to get a better look at it. You need to get your shit together. 

You both stand there in silence for a minute as he tinkers with the box. He’s stalling. Joel has changed thousands of lightbulbs. You’re looking at him. Looking at him like you’re thinking something you shouldn’t. He’s thinking about it too. He shouldn’t be. He can’t help himself. 

Joel would be lying if he said he didn’t think about you after he left the other day. It was hard to ignore how beautiful you are. Regardless of your hungover appearance. It was vulnerable and real. You were witty and quick on your feet. A few sly comments that he thought about for the rest of the day. It made him feel wanted, made him feel good. 

He reaches into his tool box for his pocket knife, his forearm brushes against your shin and he retrieves it. Your body tenses up, the wobbling light of the flashlight makes that clear to the both of you and you curse yourself for reacting like that. Joel doesn’t stop to think about it. He’s shifting his weight onto his other foot, putting some distance between the two of you. You were standing too close to him before, he couldn’t think straight. Close, but not close enough to suggest something. He slices the tape that sealed the box, closed the knife and sheathed it in his pocket. 

You purse your lips in thought, rocking from the balls of your feet to your heels. 

“So.. Have you lived ‘round here for some time?” You break the silence as Joel unscrews the lightbulb. 

“Live about a half an hour away. Been there a long time. Worked a lotta jobs ‘fore settlin’ in this one.” He doesn’t look at you. 

“Like what?”

“Always stuff with my hands. Construction. Tile work. Wood work.” He still doesn’t look at you. 

“So you like this kinda work?” You ask, wiggling the flashlight around.

“It’s gratifying.” He says simply, screwing the light bulb in.

“To work with your hands?” You ask, clarifying. 

Your eyes linger on said hands.

“Mhm.” He hums and tries to ignore the possible underlying second meaning, his heart kicking up a bit.

“You don’t like to expand much about yourself, huh?” You ask, popping your hip to the side.

He finally looks at you, eyes narrowed.

“Sounds like you’re fishin’ for somethin’.” He says.

Joel pulls the string and the light comes on. You click off the flashlight and hold it out for him to take.

“There. Nothin’ fancy, but it works.” He says, smiling.

Joel wipes his palms on the tops of his thighs before wrapping his hand around the flashlight.

“Kinda like you, huh?” You tease.

Joel cocks his head to the side and pauses. That pause says more than a reply would. He offers up a quick, dry laugh before packing his tools.

Aw, no. You don’t want this to be over yet. You scuttle behind him as he makes his way up the steps, into the kitchen. 

“Hey, do you want coffee? Remember how you like it. Black, right?” You offer, trying not to sound so panicked, to keep him here a few minutes longer. 

Joel wants to. His chest warms at your words. You remembered he likes black coffee? Something so little sits so comfortably in his chest. He wants you to keep asking him questions and memorize the answers like you’ve done with the coffee. He likes how curious you are. How forward you are. He offers a sympathetic smile instead.

“As good as it was last time, I’ve got a few other calls this mornin’ I gotta get to.” 

Your heart feels defeated. Is he shutting you down? No, he's just doing his job. You instinctively jut out your lower lip in a pout.

Joel doesn’t like seeing that face. He imagines what you look like when you’re really upset. Face red and tear stained, plump lips raw and glossy. Your chest heaving with sputtering, uneven breaths. It damn near breaks his heart. 

“Unless, there anything else quick ‘round here that need fixin’? Got some time.” He offers after taking a beat, looking down to his watch. 

Joel smiles warmly as your pout disappears.

“Well, there's a bunch of little stuff, really. This place really got the landlord special.” You weren’t lying.

There were missing outlet covers, loose cabinets, wobbly railings, windows painted shut and so much more. 

“But, would you actually help me move a dresser upstairs? I know it's not really anything that needs fixing but Ellie won’t be back for over two weeks and Jesse said he can’t come until tomorrow and I really just want it-“

“I gotcha darlin’.” Joel interrupts you.

He doesn’t want either of them to help you. He wants to. He wants the gratification of doing something to please you. The lightbulb and the dryer aren't enough. This is different. This is personal. He wants to see the smile on your face when he does it. 

Okay. Again with the darlin’. So he’s not shutting you out. 

“Really?” You ask.

“Yes. Where at, sweetheart?” He sets his toolbox on the ground and looks at you.

You nod your head and quickly walk to the living room, Joel follows behind you. You hope you tuned fast enough he didn’t see the visceral reaction to him calling you that.

You have been browsing the marketplace for furniture. Specifically for your room. You and Ellie had the living spaces covered. Your bedroom was lacking. You had your bed, desk, broken desk chair and a night stand. You had a small closet but this dresser was beautiful. Too good to pass up. It was also wooden and really fucking heavy. You didn’t think of that when the person dropped it off and helped you get it inside. You’re lucky they helped you get it in the house and push it a few feet. So it's been sitting in the living room, in the middle of the floor for two days. You walk over to it and gesture with your hands.

“I just-.” You sigh.

“You were tryin’ to lift this yourself? You’d throw your back out luggin’ it up these steps.” He tuts and shakes his head.

“I’ll take care f’it.” He says, walking closer, sliding his palm against the edge of the furniture.

“You offering to take care of my back?” You tilt your head, smirk playing at the corners of your lips.

Joel narrows his eyes at you, mulling over the thousands of thoughts that rush through his mind. You’re not subtle. But not crass. Not loud, not explicitly asking for anything. You’re fucking trouble, is what he thinks.

“M’offerin’ to take care of the dresser, darlin’.”

And he does.

Joel is in your bedroom, panting, sweaty and red in the face. You wish you caused that instead of him lugging the dresser up. You had begged him a few times to just leave it, his grunts and reddening face making you feel guilty and really, really turned on. And more guilty for feeling that way. But he insisted. You couldn't complain about the sight. His fingers gripping the corners of the wood. You want to kiss them better and thank him. His muscles contort and strain in his exposed forearms. For the second time today you thank whatever made him push his sleeves up. You wanted them wrapped around your head, holding you still while he had his way with you.

Fuck.

Now he's got his arms thrown over top of the dresser. You stood behind him, watching his ribcage expand and deflate in awe. Jole cranes his neck to wipe his forehead on the inside of his shirt sleeve. He stands up straight and whips his head around to look at you.

“I still got it, huh?” He laughs breathily, bringing one of his large hands to comb through his unruly curls. 

You want to do that, so badly. You want to comb your fingers through his tresses, grip and tug on them. It's like he's teasing you by doing it in front of you. 

Joel places a hand on his hip and cocks out his knee, his heaving chest finally settling back to its normal pace. He can't exactly clock the look on your face, but he knows it's not a bad one. Are you… Admiring him? You are. He doesn't know how to feel. It makes his chest flutter and he knows it's not because of the way he just exerted himself. He worries the inside of his lower lip. There's a voice in the back of his head telling him to walk right past you and down the steps. He knows this feeling and knows this is dangerous territory. Joel needs to stay away from you. You're not for him. You’re for some younger college boy to gawk at and fawn over, not him. The way you’re looking at him is too fond, it’s not just friendly.

“Don’t know if you ever lost it.” You say quietly, no longer bothering to hide your lingering stares.

So quietly, Joel has to second guess if he heard that right. He tilts his head slightly, hanging his thumb off the band of his tool belt. Joel curses to himself. You’ve got one hell of a mouth on you and he needs it on him. Fuck it.

You swore if your mouth wasn’t closed, you’d drool right onto the floor.

Joel is standing inches away from you with two long strides, his boots thudding softly. You feel his deep exhale through his nose on your face. It makes you shiver. His head is tilted down, searching your face for any sort of warning or plea for him to step back. He doesn't find one. His hand is on your cheek, thick, strong fingers splaying over your soft skin. You feel stuck. Not frozen in fear, but in anticipation. His thumb presses into your chin, palm pushing farther back so his fingers extend over your ear and the sensitive skin below it. Now you can hear your heartbeat and all the whooshing sounds of your insides tightening. Like when you put your ear up to a seashell, it’s dizzying. He is so close. With a small amount of pressure he tilts your head upwards, meeting your eyes.

“Tell me to stop.” He almost whispers.

His deep brown eyes are soft and yearning. You don’t dare say a word. You don’t want him to stop, you need him to keep going. His fingers press into your hair as he leans down.

“Please, tell me to stop.” Fuck, he’s practically begging.

You lift your hand to touch his wrist, his skin is hot. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, not to remove them but almost as an act of encouragement. You press the pads of your fingers into his skin, maybe to offer comfort. You’re not sure, but it feels right. You can't find any words to say.

Your eyebrows are just about pulled together while you look up to him. His eyes are flickering between your lips and your eyes. You can tell his mind is racing. Joel swallows thickly. He doesn't do a lot for himself. This is something he can't ignore. Beautiful girl, standing in front of him, specifically not speaking up for him to stop when he is begging her to. He can't wait any longer.

He pulls you close with his hand on your head. He leans down to slowly connect his lips to yours. You immediately melt into his touch, all of this pent up tension sliding away within a second. You kiss him back, tilting your head into the palm of his hand. You feel consumed by him. The way he cranes over you to meet your lips in a kiss, his greying curls tickle your forehead, his strong fingers adding additional pressure to your neck, drawing you closer into the kiss if it was possible. With one small step you press your torso to his. It draws a beautiful sigh from the back of his throat to your lips. He pulls back from the kiss, trying to read your face for any regret of second guessing. 

“I didn’t say stop.” You finally speak up, already missing the warmth of his lips.

You don’t know if you believe this is real or not. You gave his wrist a squeeze, letting him know you were serious. Also to ground you, feeling him under your fingers reminded you this is real, he is real and he's kissing you. To say you needed him was an understatement.

The face he makes when you speak is one you want to never forget. His glossy lips parted, almost turned in a frown. His thick, dark brows sewn together, two sharp lines indented there. The vein in his neck is prominent. Dark curls turning up behind his ears in the most beautiful way. His eyes were dark and glossy, pupils blown. You wished you got another second to take in this expression, but his lips were on yours once more. You were thankful for that.

You sighed softly into the kiss. Joel took his free hand and brought it to rest on your side, just above your hip. His pinky and thumb pressed into your bare skin between the hem of your shirt and your shorts, goosebumps pricked under your skin. Your breath hitched as he pressed the pads of his fingers into your side. Joel's lips turned up in a sly smirk against yours, drinking in your body and the way it reacted to his.

You don't know what got into you, maybe it was the way he's kissing you like you just did him a favor, but you were the one to deepen the kiss. Your tongue grazing his pouty lower lip, and gratefully he parts them for you. Both of you take turns lapping at each other's tongues. Joels hand slides across your side and presses firmly into the small of your back, holding your torso to his. His tool belt pressed firmly into your lower stomach. The cool metal of the tools reminds you who he is and what he’s doing here and that makes you shudder. His hand at your cheek cups the back of your neck now. He stabilized you while taking a long stride, backing you up. Surprised, you whine in confusion against his lips. He doesn’t do anything but kiss you hungrily, growing increasingly more impatient by the second. You stumble over your own feet while walking backwards, keeping up with the pace he's setting until the back of your thighs make contact with fabric. It's your comforter, he's got you backed up against your bed. The both of you stand there, kissing for a moment. He slides his hand from the small of your back over the curve of your ass, settling it at the back of your thigh, roughly pressing his fingertips into the flesh. You gasp against his lips, your stomach pulling deep in your core.

Your hand leaves his wrist and tangles itself into the curls at the nape of his neck, like you've wanted to do since you saw him. Your other hand pressed softly into his chest, splaying your fingers across his shirt. He takes the hint and lets up on his grip, allowing some space between your bodies while you hoist yourself onto your bed. Your knees sink into the mattress, doing your best to not break the kiss, his hand slides from your thigh to the soft spot beneath your ribs. Joel does break the kiss, though. You huff softly in confusion again. He looks down at you, his hand leaving your waist to push some hair behind your ear even though it wasn't in your face.

“Y’look so beautiful, baby.” He whispers.

Another sweet name unlocked.

Score.

Your heart throbs. Maybe it wasn’t just your heart- whatever. It throbbed, too.

“Joel-” You begin softly, your needy voice cut off by a loud, blaring alarm.

“Fuck.” Joel cusses and quickly both of his hands leave your body, you already miss them.

You sit back on your heels, furrowing your eyebrows while you watch him. The noise is loud and repetitive. Joel's cursing repeatedly under his breath. His phone, his fucking work phone. He has heard this alarm before. When a job would take too long, he’d need an extra part he didn’t think he’d need, or he’d start a job and realize there's a lot more work that had to be done than what he had thought.

After another beat, he finds his work phone from his back pocket and silences the alarm. He curses again. He's late for the next job. He screws his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“What is happening?” You speak up, reaching a hand out to rest on his forearm.

Joel just stares at the alarm notification on his phone. He can’t believe he did this. What is he, a teenage boy? He couldn't control himself around you. The alarm knocked some sense back into him, bringing him back to this reality. He clearly wasn't thinking straight when he just had his tongue down your throat for the past ten minutes. 

It felt so good. It felt so, so good to lean into what he wanted. It scared him, honestly. It made him uneasy. It felt natural and easy. You wanted it, too. That made him more scared. You wanted him? That wasn’t a question. You wanted him.

“M’late for the next job. Fuck.” He curses again, because he really can't believe it. 

He can't believe how wrapped up in that little fantasy he just got. What did he think was gonna happen? You’d fall for him? Yeah, right. A pretty little thing like you can't be so starved for attention in a college filled with drooling boys. That, too. College. You’re younger than him. A lot younger than him.

“Oh, I’m sorry Joel.” 

You tell him, voice sweet on his ears. He finally rips his attention away from the screen and looks at you. Your hair is tousled, lips plump, glistening and pouty. God, he wants to kiss you again. He can’t. He has to work, and the reality setting in has him nervous. Your kneeling on your bed, the one he was about to crawl on top of and then- he doesn't know what then. He didn't think that far.

You did, though. You slouched your shoulders slightly, rubbing his forearm. You’re kneeling before him on your bed, staring up to him. His hair was unruly in the spot your fingers were, curling and toying with it, tugging slightly to elicit a sigh from his lips. They were so beautiful, by the way. Plump and you would tell they were skillful. They were careful and conscious. They move deliberately, like his hands when you watched him work. He moved so confidently. That's the same way he kissed you. He doesn't really radiate that same confidence right now, though. He looks concerned or nervous, maybe.

“I gotta go.” He says bluntly, taking a few steps back and letting your hands fall from his arm.

Oh, shit. You don't like the flat tone in his voice.

Joel turns to the steps and starts making his way down them. You're not far behind him, feet moving quickly on the steps, hand skating down the railing.

“Hey.” You call out to him.

He turns around, pausing his frantic search for his tool box.

“I wanted that. Just so you know.” You reassure him.

Joel swallows thickly. Fuck, as good as those words sound dripping from your lips, thats not what he needs to hear right now. Those words hit him low in his belly, the familiar twist stirring his cock in his jeans. He needs to leave before he's forced to touch himself in his truck to the thought of you before he can walk into his next job. Okay, forced was a strong word. But it was the reality.

Joel nods his head. You reach the last step as he strides to the front door.

“I’m sorry, darlin’.” He draws, voice thick and syrupy. 

Like it was upstairs when he called you beautiful.

Then he was gone.

He clicked the door shut behind him, leaving you frozen on the other side. 

What the fuck just happened?

Everything happened so quickly you barely had time to process that you had Joel in your room, against your bed, his lips on yours, his hands on your body, and now he's gone. Leaving you with another low draw of that sweet name, a lot of questions and wet panties.

It was really, really hot. 

Should you feel guilty? 

No, why would you feel guilty? 

He's a grown man, you’re a grown woman. Everyone's consenting. You were actually teetering on the verge of begging. You just happen to be almost half his age. Still, two grown adults.

He’s your maintenance man.

Okay, and? 

No harm, no foul. 

Right?

You don’t know. You don’t know anything right now besides the way his lips linger on yours. You can still fucking taste him, but you can’t see his truck outside anymore. 

You can still feel his hands. 

On your face, your hip, your back, your thigh. They were so big, broad and warm. So warm. They were calloused and rough but they held you like you were porcelain. He was careful and calculated, just like the way you watched him work. There was no other word you could think of other than, experienced.

Joel gripped the steering wheel so hard the leather squeaked under his hold. The skin of his knuckles stretched thin over the bone. He could probably bite through a fucking brick right now. That's how tense his jaw is. His cock twitches in his jeans and he curses to himself. He feels bad though. No matter how hard his cock strains he feels guilty. 

It feels wrong. 

You’re so young and pretty. 

He's a grumpy old man who's supposed to be fixing whatever you need fixing. Not barging in and being seconds away from pinning you on your mattress. He feels guilty because he wants it. 

He wants you. 

The way you look at him through your thick lashes. It’s not just a friendly look. He knows he shouldn’t give in but it's hard. And you didn’t tell him to stop. 

Joel even asked twice. 

Just to rub salt in the wound, you called out to him before he left and let him know that you wanted it.

Remembering that in the haze of what just happened made him pull over on a small side street. He released the steering wheel finally, letting out a sharp groan while flexing his fingers to pump some blood back into them.

He threw the truck into park and smacked the back of his head into the headrest. 

“Fuck.” Was all he could say again.

He’s rock hard and already late to the next job. He doesn’t have enough time to think about your body while he's touching himself. 

He doesn’t have enough time to think about the way you kneeled before him on your mattress-

No. He can’t. 

Instead he screws his eyes shut and brings his head upright again, thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of his nose like that would get rid of his hard on. 

He starts rattling off football teams in his head. When you start to flood those thoughts he switches to baseball teams. He thinks of taking you to games. Do you like baseball? Joel thinks of you in one of his Rangers t-shirts. One of his hats, too. Or do you have your own gear? Do you like the Rangers?

This isn’t helping. He’s still hard.

He slams the side of his fist into the steering wheel.

It takes entirely too long for his cock to soften. When it does he peels off of the side of the road and to the next job. This was too much too fast. He needed to clear his mind.

You are doing some super sleuth shit. Thanks to the shirt Joel was wearing today you now knew his last name.

Miller. 

You search it into every social media. There's a couple of pings here and there, all for different Joel Millers, not your Joel Miller.

Stop right there. 

He's not yours. 

Yet. 

You finally find a facebook profile. It's fitting. Late 40s maybe 50 year old man. Facebook fits the bill. Joel Miller. Austin, Texas. You click on the profile picture.

Hot damn.

He's working on a construction site. He told you that earlier. Construction, tile work, wood work. Damn, he can do it all. 

Someone else took this picture. Joel has one hand gripping the edge of a sheet of plywood, his other hand wrapped around a nail gun. It was cropped from his hips up. You could see the top of that tool belt hanging on his hips. His head was turned, his broad shoulder and bicep covered the majority of his face but you knew. You know this was him. He had less grey hair and it was a little shorter. But you knew that tanned skin, the little peek you got of the slope of his nose. It’s him. 

You’re proud of yourself for finding this but is this too far? 

A knock on the door snaps you out of your spiral. 

Different from Joel's knock. 

Is he trying a new approach?

You scramble off of the couch, making sure to swipe out of his facebook profile before locking your phone. It would be too embarrassing if he found you stalking his life online after one unfinished makeout. 

You open the door quickly.

“Hey, kiddo.”

It’s not Joel.

“Dad?” 

“In the flesh.”

You straighten yourself. Not the face you expected to see. You do miss him, though. You haven’t seen him in person since spring. Lots of phone calls and texts. Running his own business makes him a busy guy.

“I didn’t think you were coming today.” You say, stepping to the side and gesturing for him to come in.

“I texted ya’ not too long ago. All that time on that phone, but you don’t answer me back. ‘Sup with that, kid?” He nudges his shoulder against yours, chuckling while making his way in, looking around. 

Your parents got a divorce when you were 10 years old. Dad got all the rights to the business, Mom got the house. Weekends were spent at Dads, and a few weeks during the summer. You had a good relationship with both of them. 

Until Mom found her boyfriend. He was younger than your Dad, had money and tried way too damn hard. Eventually they got serious, Mom moved in with him a few hours away, a brand new house with a pool in the backyard and everything. Dad took you in full time so you didn't have to change schools. You saw your Mom after that on birthdays and holidays, then every other holiday, then it turned into phone calls. Phone calls turned into texts. 

Your dad was there for you though. He made space for you in his apartment. He hung up your posters, painted the walls for you. He even put up a shelf for your stuffed animals to sit. 

“I guess I just didn’t see it.” You frowned.

You didn’t. You’re not telling him it's because you were stalking your maintenance man on Facebook. 

“Whatcha got there?”

“Well, you always drank these at home. Figured I’d bring some here in case you haven’t got any yet.” He pulls the case out from under his arm. 

You could cry. He brought you a case of Cherry Pepsi. He always kept some in his apartment. Your Mom never let you have soda.

He noticed one missing from the fridge one night. He strolled over to your room and knocked on the door. You had a guilty look on your face, and a cold can of soda under the blanket. He sat on the edge of your bed and made you fess up. You presented him the can and hung your head in shame. Your dad opened the can and handed it back to you. Since then, every time you went back to his apartment he had them stocked in the fridge. When you finally moved in from your Mom’s house, that didn’t change. Something so small made you feel so seen.

You smiled wide.

“Thanks, Dad. It means a lot.” You say while taking it from him.

He follows you to the kitchen, a low whistle leaving his lips.

“Looks good in here, baby. You n’ Ellie did a good job.” He says, leaning forward to rest on his elbows on the counter top.

You slid the case into the fridge and turned to face him.

“Speakin’ of, where's she at anyways? Figured I would’a heard her by now. She’s got quite the mouth.” He says, sucking his teeth and looking over his shoulder.

You laughed and shook your head, standing opposite of him, the kitchen island between you two. 

“She’s away for a little bit. Visiting Dina’s family.”

He raises his eyebrows and nods his head. 

“That’s good. Don’t need her yellin’ scarin’ away your neighbors the first week y’all move in.” He jokes.

You laugh and shake your head at him and neglect to tell him about the housewarming party.

Him and Ellie have a beautiful relationship. He pretty much looks at her like one of his own. All they do is get on eachothers nerves, you love it. He pushes himself off of the counter and starts walking around. His eyes are scanning the cabinets, counter tops, and the sink. He walks over to the sink and turns the water on, then the garbage disposal.

“What are you doing?” You follow shortly behind him, standing on your tippy toes, trying to see what he sees. 

“Just checkin’ it out. Makin’ sure everythings in tip top shape for ya.” He mumbles and turns off the water and garbage disposal.

You roll your eyes, here we go.

He taps the faucet. 

“It's a little loose. Could be a problem down the line, kid.” He says and walks into the living room.

You just sigh and nod your head. You know some of the flooring is uneven and  wobbly cabinet doors. He mutters something about the grout between the tiles. He's checking it out like it's one of his job sites.

“Really not bad. Little overpriced for what they’re givin’ you, but the bones are good, kid. How's maintenance? That’s what's gonna make or break the place.”

Your pulse skips. You swallow thickly.

“They’re fine. I mean, I havent had to chase anyone down to file lawsuits, so that's a win.”

“Someone already stopped by?” He's walking back into the kitchen and opening up the fridge, checking the temperature in the back.

“Uh, yeah.” You say, still trailing behind him.

“Who came by?”

You're silently cursing him for asking so many questions. It has barely been two hours since Joel peeled out of here. You don't really want to tell your Dad about him. 

He might think it’s odd, you just met him that week, already kissed him, and he’s your maintenance man. He’s also a lot older. You quickly decide you won’t tell your Dad about this, it’s too weird until serious. If you even get serious. You're trying your hardest to be normal in this situation.

“Guy named Joel. Seems like he’s been around some time. Fixed the dryer and replaced the lightbulb down there, too.” You leave out the fact that his tongue was down your throat.

“He was alright? You didn't have to wait too long after the request was put in.”

You shake your head.

“He was fine. Punctual. Kinda quiet. Knows what he's doing.” From the small snippet you got upstairs, that last sentence might be an understatement in other departments.

“Joel? Brown hair?” He’s walking around the kitchen, checking out the granite speckled counter top.

You nod.

“Hmm.. Was he tall and kinda..Dunno. Like a grumpy cowboy?”

You nod again. You dont realize youre doing it, but that metallic taste on your tongue lets you know you're chewing way too hard on the inside of your cheek.

“Miller?” You choke out.

He smiles wide, a laugh bubbling from his chest as he stands up straight.

“That's Joel!”

You reach a hand out to steady yourself on the counter. Suddenly aware of your mascara and your bare legs. Of everything.

Youve got to be fucking kidding me.