#slow hands

One thing you hadn’t factored in when you’d offered to teach Arthur about sex was the fact that he was, at the end of the day, a man. 

This meant, as you were slowly finding out, that he was horny pretty much all of the time. 

Now that you’d finally broken past the first hurdle, he was practically insatiable. Not in a way that came across as overbearing, Arthur would rather die than make you upset or uncomfortable, but in a way that started to become increasingly more hilarious the longer it went on. 

If you thought he’d been bad before, he was much, much worse now. 

Whenever you two had a free night where you weren’t both bone tired or otherwise preoccupied, he’d undoubtedly come sidling up to you wherever you were in the house, pawing at you until you eventually gave in and kissed him. You never minded, of course - kissing Arthur was still one of your absolute favourite things to do. And now, with the added information that he went absolutely insane over a vibrator, your nights had become significantly more interesting than they had been two months ago. 

You’d nearly lost count of the number of nights since that first time that you’d had him spread out on the bed, cock flushed and dripping against his stomach under the relentless pleasure of the vibrator pressed tight against the head and length of him. Every time felt like the first, an addicting rush of pleasure and love surging through him and making his back bow and his hips lift off the bed in an orgasm that never seemed to end. He loved it. He loved you. He loved this new path his life was taking. 

You’d tried out a few more things as well, getting him acclimatised with the world of sex and pleasure - you’d discovered that he was a favourable to a little pain, loving when you left bruises and bites on him, or dragged the sharp points of your nails down his chest and stomach whilst you jerked him off roughly. This went hand in hand with the time you’d melted a candle and dripped it across the tattoos decorating his sternum and stomach, watching with a sort of satisfied glee as Arthur squirmed and whined beneath you. You’d tried again with the blindfold - he’d hated, as he’d suspected, the loss of his vision and the sight of you sending him spiralling in the worst possible way. 

But now, Arthur was beginning to feel a little selfish. So far, everything had been about him. What he liked. What made him feel good. He’d barely even touched you aside from a few kisses and that time he’d played with your tits. The visual of your perfect chest framed by the lace of your bra haunted him every waking moment, drifting into his mind when he had a spare second he wasn’t busy, nearly always resulting in his cock stirring to life in his trousers, even when he really shouldn’t have been hard. 

Anyway. He’s determined to repay the favour. 

Or, at least try to. 

The morning is shaping up to be one of those where it becomes increasingly clear that nothing interesting is going to happen today. It had started slowly - you’d woken up first, made coffee for yourself and Arthur, put some toast on, accepted your boyfriend’s sleepy kiss when he’d trudged into the kitchen, and sat down to eat. You were halfway through your mouthful when he spoke. 

‘I feel like I’m being selfish with all this sex stuff.’ 

The words burst from him in a rush, his gaze fixed on the wood of your dining table, not daring to meet your eyes. You blinked, mouth half open as you were poised to take another bite of your breakfast. 

‘Um, okay-’ You said, setting down your toast and wiping your mouth, reaching out to take Arthur’s hand into yours, squeezing slightly to get him to look at you. 

‘What do you mean? Why do you think you’re being selfish?’ You asked. The earnestness in the statement had left you stunned - the sentiment of Arthur being selfish hadn’t even crossed your mind. As far as you were concerned, everything had been going great. A small snag of worry began to worm its way into your head. How long had he felt like this? And why hadn’t he told you?

Arthur sighed, evidently struggling to word things correctly. 

‘It’s just- I don’t know. All the stuff we’ve done- which has been great, by the way, I’m not complaining about that at all. It’s just- it’s all been, like, about me. You haven’t gotten anything- or I haven’t done anything in return.’ He said, fingers twitching erratically against yours where they lay linked on the tabletop. 

Your mouth opened, then closed, shocked. 

‘Arthur- sex isn’t- it isn’t transactional like that. You’re learning, baby, it takes time. I don’t expect you to be able to give back right away. Come on, you’re being silly.’ You said, giving his hand a firm squeeze. Arthur let out a short huff, clearly not satisfied with your answer. 

‘Yeah, I know, but like- still. I just feel bad. I mean I’ve cum like- I don’t even know how many times. And you just….haven’t’. I want you to feel good, too.’ He said, pouting slightly as he picked at the corner of the table. You just smiled fondly. Of course, you should’ve expected this. Arthur was, at his core, a genuinely kind person. Of course he’d be irked by the fact that you haven’t been pleasured as well. 

‘Oh, angel. You’re too sweet. I appreciate that you want to make me feel good too, but you really don’t need to worry about anything. Seeing you feel good is all I need right now.’ 

‘Yeah, but- I want you to feel good. Like, properly.’ 

‘Arthur, baby-’

‘Please. Please, let me. Teach me. I wanna see what you look like when you cum.’ 

That last sentence seemed to force its way out of his mouth of its own accord. Arthur slapped his hand over his mouth, cheeks instantly flushing as he stammered frantically, trying to take the words back that had since washed over you like a gentle tide. Your mouth dropped open. 

‘Jesus, Arthur. You can’t just- say shit like that.’ You said, fighting desperately against the heat that had begun to pool in your lower stomach, dipping dangerously low towards your clit. 

‘Sorry- I didn’t mean to. I mean- it’s true, but I know we’re taking it slow. But I do want- want to make you feel good.’ He rambled, dragging his hands through his hair as he attempted to calm his racing heart. He truly hadn’t meant to let that little fantasy slip - but it was out there now, he supposed. Maybe that would motivate you into your next lesson. A small, actually selfish part of him hoped it would. 

‘It’s okay, love. Just surprised me. But, if you’re that desperate, I suppose we could- we could try it. I mean, we’re not doing anything else today, are we?’ You said hesitantly, tracing your finger around the rim of his coffee mug, looking up at him through your lashes. Arthur swallowed thickly. 

‘I do- I do want to. But not just because you feel like you should, or because I said I wanted to. I want you to, like, want it- as well.’ He said, gaze locked on the way your fingers circled the mug, fingernails glinting in the early morning sun. It was your turn to huff out a laugh, drawing your hand back to rest next to your own mug. 

‘Arthur, I think you know by now that I want you pretty much all the time. Plus, it’s not like it’s a bad deal. Why wouldn’t I want to?’ You said, smiling slightly when he shrugged helplessly. 

‘I dunno. Just- I just don’t want you to feel like you have to just to teach me. I know I probably should’ve figured all this out years ago, but, like-’ 

‘Don’t even finish that sentence. I wouldn’t’ve offered if I wasn’t willing to help you. We’re in this together, Arthur. It’s bound to take some time, but that’s something I’m willing to commit to. If you aren’t, then you just need to tell me, and we can stop.’ You said. Despite your confident words, you were a mess of nerves. Clearly, this was a big thing for Arthur. You didn’t want to keep going in this if he was uncomfortable, or worried that your heart wasn’t in it. 

Thankfully, some of that tightness that had been building in your chest eased when he shook his head vigorously. 

‘No, no. I don’t want to stop, not at all. These past few weeks have been amazing. Not just- because of the sex, although that’s been really great- but, like, I feel closer to you somehow. And I just want to make sure that you feel that, too- for me.’ He said, head whipping up to look you in the eye as he rambled. You just smiled, sitting back in your chair. 

‘You know I do, Arthur. I’m, like, absolutely fucking crazy about you. Orgasms or sex doesn’t change that. But no, I get where you’re coming from. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling like that, my love. But thank you for telling me, I really appreciate it.’ You said, standing slowly from your chair and making your way over to him. Arthur scooted back slightly in his chair, unable to stop the smile from forming on his face as you swung a leg over him to straddle him on the chair, his hands automatically coming to rest on your waist. 

You wound your arms around his neck, leaning in to press your forehead against his. 

‘I just- I want you to feel as good as me. And- yeah, okay, fuck it- I want to make you come. I want it really fucking badly.’ He said softly, breath fanning over your face from how close you were. You shifted slightly on his lap, just enough so that your heated core was resting over where his cock lay, soft for now, against his thigh. Arthur’s breath hitched slightly at the contact, grip tightening minutely on your waist. 

‘Yeah? Wanna make me come, pretty boy?’ You whispered, ducking down to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Arthur swallowed, clearing his throat. 

‘Yeah- please.’ 

‘Mm, such a good boy. So considerate.’ You murmured, moving to now trail your mouth across his jawline, scraping your teeth against the stubble you found there, relishing it as Arthur shivered beneath you. Slowly, you found your way back to his mouth, pressing a slow kiss to his lips before pulling back. You climbed off of his lap, keeping a hold of one of his hands as you pulled him up to standing. 

‘Come on then. Show me you’re not all talk, and that you really want to learn.’ You said, nodding your head in the direction of your bedroom. Arthur’s lips parted, a small breath escaping them as his pupils dilated. This was really happening. He gripped your hand tighter, pulling you along with him as he made his way to your bedroom. When you were at the threshold, he turned slightly so he could back you up until your knees hit the bed. You grinned up at him as you lay down on the bed, spreading your legs so he could fit in between them. 

His hands came to rest at your hips, thumbing slightly at the waistband of your pyjama shorts. 

‘Can I?’ He asked. His heart was a wild thing in his chest, eyes glued to where your shirt had ridden up to expose a sliver of your stomach, the sight alone making his cock twitch with interest. Sure, he’d seen you without your panties on before, but this, like everything else, was different. It meant more now - no longer a quick fix, but a sign of his progress, of your trust in him. 

‘Go on, baby.’ You gave your assent, lifting your hips to help him as he dragged your shorts and panties down in one, revealing your cunt to him little by little. Arthur’s breath stuttered out of him as he tugged the clothing off fully, his gaze landing on your exposed cunt. He almost laughed to himself - it seemed you really were beautiful everywhere. You were wet already, slick glistening in the light of your room, clenching slightly around the cool air as he settled himself between your thighs again. 

‘Okay, ready? I’m gonna teach you how to use your fingers. But you have to listen to everything I tell you, okay? Otherwise it’s not gonna feel good.’ You explained, propping yourself up on your elbows. Arthur nodded immediately, bringing his hands up to rest on your thighs, pushing slightly until your knees dropped onto the bed, leaving you completely exposed to him. 

‘Let me see your hands.’ You asked. He gave them to you at once, letting you inspect them. You squinted, scrutinising him. His nails were short and clean, as always - he kept them like that most of the time when he wasn’t actively writing new music, when he normally had longer nails for the guitar. He wasn’t a dirty person generally, and so you found yourself nodding and letting go of his hand. 

‘Are they okay?’ He asked, resting his chin gently on your leg. You smiled, nodding again. 

‘Yeah, they’re all good, baby. Just checking your nails and stuff. It’s not particularly nice for me, or girls in general really, if your partner has long nails. It can sometimes be painful. But you’re all good, I know you’re not like, filthy, or anything.’ You said. Arthur’s brows furrowed as he looked over his nails, the expression so alike a curious puppy that you couldn’t help but laugh. 

‘Alright, Arthur. Pay attention now. You can either get the lube, or you can wet your fingers yourself. I’m already kind of wet, but it’ll still be a little painful if you just go in completely dry.’ You said, tossing your hair out of your face as Arthur looked up at you curiously. 

‘Do it myself?’ He asked, tilting his head to the side. 

‘Yeah, love. Like this.’ You said, sitting up for a minute to grab his hand and guide it towards his mouth. He made a soft noise of surprise as you bent his forefinger and pinky, leaving just the ring and middle left. You pushed the tips agains his lips, coaxing them further into his mouth. 

‘There. Now suck, get them nice and wet for me.’ You said, leaning back on the bed. The soft, slick sounds you heard from between your legs told you that Arthur was doing as you said. You couldn’t help but sneak a look down, thighs twitching together at the sight of him, spit starting to drip out from the corner of his mouth as he sucked them. 

‘Okay, that’s enough, baby. Come here.’ You reached out to grab his hair, gently pulling him until he was situated in front of your cunt. The sight ripped another quiet whine from his chest, the smell of you reaching him and making his mouth water. One thing at a time, he reminded himself. 

‘Alright. You’ve seen me do this to myself before- it’s not really too different. Start slow, run your fingers up and down. A little pressure, but not too hard, got it?’ You said, letting go of his hair and letting him focus properly. He took a deep breath, before lowering his spit-slicked fingers to your cunt. 

The first thing he noticed was the heat of you. 

His mouth fell open as he slowly dragged his fingers up and down the seam of your cunt, your slick gradually adding to the spit covering his fingers to help him along, and soon it was a smooth glide up and down your folds. He spread them slightly, whimpering at the sight of the pretty pink of your leaking hole. Your stomach muscles flexed slightly under the gentle pleasure. You let out a soft sigh as his fingers nudged your clit, a few sparks of pleasure emanating from the contact. 

‘Good, that’s good, baby. Why don’t you come up here, instead- it’ll probably be easier this way for me to guide you through it.’ You said, shifting forwards. Arthur paused for a second, wrenching himself away from your cunt for a moment to look up at you. 

‘Remember like I had you before, leaning against me. That way it’s easier for me to tell you because I’m not having to mirror everything.’ You explained. Arthur made a noise of understanding before shuffling forward on the bed and slipping in behind you. It felt odd to have the roles reversed now, but he couldn’t deny the thrill that surged through him as you settled back against his chest, your legs spreading wide. From this angle, he could see your clit, now puffy and red with arousal and the tantalising stimulation he’d given you. 

‘Okay, yeah- this is better. Right, keep going with what you were doing. Gentle, but you can go a bit faster now.’ You instructed, leaning back fully against him. He did as he was told, lowering his hand to drag his fingers through your folds once more, swearing softly at the wet heat of you. The change in position had his fingers bumping regularly against your clit now, causing soft moans to bubble up out of you. Arthur listened carefully, entranced by the squelch of your cunt and the slick sounds it made as he moved his fingers up and down the seam of you, gathering your slick on his fingertips. 

‘You’re so pretty.’ He whispered. The awe in his voice had you clenching around nothing, the praise going straight to your cunt. Arthur noticed, of course, and filed that away for a later date. It seemed that the love of praise wasn’t relegated to solely him. 

’Thank- thank you, baby.’ You replied, voice hitching slightly as the tips of his fingers dipped into your hole, just enough to send a hot spike of pleasure through your body. 

‘What now?’ He asked, never stopping his careful movements up and down your cunt. You blinked a few times, clearing the fog in your mind. This was mean to be a lesson. 

‘Um- okay. Now that your fingers are nice and wet, you can focus on my clit. Here, like this.’ You reached down to take his hand, guiding it up slightly until the pad of his middle finger rest on the soft flesh. 

‘Press down a bit- I like a bit more pressure, but everyone’s different. Then you move in circles, like this.’ 

You guided his hand in slow circles, breath stuttering out as heady pleasure began to ebb from where he touched you. Arthur couldn’t get enough of the sight of you - spread out and dripping for him, telling him exactly what to do to make you feel good. His gaze was glued to where your smaller hand covered his, moving his hand in careful circles on your clit, thighs just beginning to tremble under the pleasure. 

‘Fuck- yeah, that’s it. Just like that. Little faster, baby.’ You instructed, control hanging on by a thread as Arthur complied, picking up speed. Your hand fell to the side, trusting him to do it on his own. The rough pads of his fingers felt heavenly slipping in tight circles around your clit. Pleasure thrummed through your whole body, every sense heightened under your boyfriend’s touch. Maybe it was the situation itself that had you so keyed up - Arthur, touching you so reverently, like he thought you might break if he pushed too hard, listening to everything you told him, so focused on your pleasure, had you floating embarrassingly close to the edge. 

‘Feels good?’ He muttered against your ear. You nodded, tipping your head back so you could look him in the eye as he smiled down at you. 

‘Yeah, feels- feels so good, Arthur. Doing such a good job.’ You replied, allowing yourself to give in to the pleasure and start to grind your hips up against Arthur’s fingers. You could feel the hard line of him behind your ass as you moved backwards, evident of how much e was enjoying this. 

‘Can I- can I see your tits again? I remember you liked it when I- um, when I touched them last time. Might make you feel even better.’ He asked, the thought suddenly rising up in his mind and becoming urgent at a speed that left him breathless. A breathy moan broke from you as his fingers pressed down harder, but you nodded anyway, sitting up enough to pull your shirt off. Arthur’s free hand immediately came up to cup the soft flesh, flicking his thumb over your peaked nipple. 

‘Fuck- look at you, remembering what you’ve learned. So good for me. Fuck, yes- go a bit faster, baby. It’s alright, I’ll tell you if you hurt me.’ You gasped out, a moan breaking from your chest as Arthur increased his speed once again, your cunt squelching obscenely from just how wet you were, his fingers slipping in perfect circles around your aching clit as the other pinched and rolled your nipples, the sharp pleasure contrasting with the familiar, sticky pleasure of his fingers on your cunt in a way that had your head spinning. 

‘What about- inside? Is that something that feels good?’ 

The question forced a weak moan out of you, the dedication and earnestness in his voice making you throb harder, your cunt steadily leaking now as he continued to draw circles on your clit. 

‘Uhm- fuck, yes- you can do that. It does feel good- do you wanna try?’ You asked, feeling Arthur nod before the sentence was even out of your mouth. 

‘Okay- stop for a second, I just need to-’ You said, patting his arm softly. He stilled immediately, concern flashing in his dark brown eyes. 

‘I’m fine, baby. Just need to catch my breath before I can teach you. You’re doing so well for me, Arthur. I’m really proud of you.’ You tilted your head up to capture his lips in a kiss, taking the brief moment of reprieve. He hummed happily against your lips, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue. You opened for him, feeling the heat and intensity behind the kiss as his tongue stroked against yours. Somehow, he’d gotten better at kissing since you two had started your lessons - probably because you used it every time as a failsafe way to get him in the mood. 

That was something else you’d figured out about Arthur. He got hard at the drop of a hat. 

Giving him a good morning kiss? Some mornings, he’d pull away and quickly scoot over to sit down at the table, covering his crotch with an embarrassed smile. You brushed past him on the way to the washing machine? He has to sit down with a pillow on his lap for the next half an hour. You smiled at him in that unfiltered way he loved so much when out on a date in public? He’s dragging you to the nearest bathroom to hide away until the tent in his trousers disappears. 

Now was no different - you could clearly feel the outline of his cock straining against the confines of his trousers and pressing up against your lower back, jerking every so often as you exchanged kisses. 

‘Sorry about- that. I can’t help it.’ Arthur muttered against your lips when you shifted back against him. You just laughed, pulling him in for another kiss. 

‘’S okay, baby. Just tells me I’m doing something right.’ 

You broke the kiss, pecking a last one on his nose just because you could before turning your attention back to your soaked cunt. 

‘Right, okay. Listen carefully, now. Take your fingers like this,’ You grabbed his hand once more, guiding his fingers down to press against your hole, sucking in a breath slightly when he pushed the tips in experimentally. ’Start with one. Push in, slowly.’ You said, folding his ring finger down for the time being. Arthur did as instructed, watching with wide eyes as your cunt sucked his finger in greedily. The slight stretch had you keening, the sensation nearly too much after so long being empty. 

‘Fuck- okay. Now you can start to move- slow, first, then you can go faster. Like this, like you’re trying to call me towards you.’ You said, demonstrating the gesture with your own hand. Arthur watched, then copied. 

The pleasure that burst from the movement was instant. Your breath punched out of you in a guttural moan, head knocking back against his collarbones. 

‘Fuck- oh my God, Arthur.’

‘Good?’ 

‘Yeah, yeah- bend your fingers a little more- yeah, like that- Jesus Christ.’ You said, voice breaking as Arthur’s finger stroked against your sweet spot, a shock of pleasure zipping up your spine. 

‘Right there?’ He asked, and he sounded almost smug, the bastard. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be mad at him, not when it felt like he was pulling you apart piece by piece and putting you back together the way he wanted you. 

‘Yeah, right there, baby. You can add another finger- please.’ 

Begging. You were begging. Arthur couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

‘Yeah- yeah, okay- like I did the first one?’ He said. You nodded, repeating the motion you wanted him to do with his fingers. He watched closely, then slowly slid in his ring finger alongside his middle, gasping softly as your walls clenched around him. He could feel the burning heat of you as your cunt fluttered around him as he began to move, crooking his fingers as you’d instructed to stroke over your sweet spot. Or, what he assumed was your sweet spot, judging by the continuous moans and whines that fell from your lips. 

‘Okay- go a bit faster, baby. Same motion.’ You instructed, voice breathy and high as he obliged. With the increased speed, he could feel every twitch and clench of your cunt around him as he stroked against that spongy spot inside you, fingertips dragging across it in a delicious rhythm that left you panting. His other hand played idly with your tits, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh, trying what he knew to heighten the pleasure you were feeling. 

Arthur was sure he’d never seen anyone so beautiful in his life. Your hairline was beaded with sweat, wisps of your hair stuck to your forehead, your chest heaving with deep breaths under the onslaught of pleasure, nipples peaked against his hand as he pinched at them. Your skin was flushed, hips bucking up slightly into his hand as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you, marvelling at the way your slick coated his fingers entirely. 

‘Is that- good? Do you want another?’ He asked, voice gravelly and thick with arousal against your ear. He took your answering moan as confirmation, unfolding his forefinger and sliding it in alongside the other two before thrusting them in and out of your cunt, picking up speed ever so slightly. 

‘Jesus- fuck, Arthur.’ You gasped out, back arching at the stretch. Arthur froze, mumbling apologies as he went to pull his fingers out. You shook your head quickly, reaching down to seize his hand to keep him where he was, fingers buried deep inside your throbbing cunt. 

‘No, no- please. Feels so good- don’t stop.’ The sound of your breathy voice made Arthur groan, his hand tightening on your chest as he pulled you flush against him, thrusting his fingers in and out of you with renewed determination. You whined, hips rolling in time with his thrusts. 

‘Yeah- come on, love. Wanna make you feel good- please, wanna see you cum all over my fingers. Please, I need it- You’re so pretty, oh my God- so beautiful like this.’ He was rambling now, any semblance of control he’d been at least attempting to hold onto disappearing entirely in the presence of your cunt soaking his fingers with every thrust and your soft moans and whimpers. You were practically putty in his hands, thighs trembling and chest heaving as Arthur moved his fingers in and out of you, the slick slide of them against your sensitive walls causing you to moan out loud, pleasure zipping up your spine and scattering deliciously through your whole body. It had been a while since you’d cum from fingering alone, but it seemed that today, there was a first time for everything. 

Including, it seemed, for Arthur to start getting his own ideas. 

Your eyes were screwed shut, breath coming in short little bursts as he continued his movements, curling his fingers just right to stroke insistently over your sweet spot in a rhythm that had you dizzy, cunt clenching around the stretch of his thick fingers. He watched you intently, noting the way your clit twitched with every drag of his fingers out of your cunt, red and swollen from his earlier ministrations.

Letting go of your chest, he snaked his hand down to rest just above your clit. When you didn’t react, too lost in your own sea of pleasure, he made his move. Your cunt was wet enough already that the sensation didn’t immediately register as he started to circle over your clit once more. Arthur pressed down harder, biting back a groan as your clit throbbed under his touch. Your eyes flew open at the sudden burst of pleasure, before they were rolling back into your head as a weak moan dissolved on your tongue, brain thoroughly fried by his touch. 

‘That feel good? Yeah, I thought so.’ He said, allowing himself to smile slightly at your nod, head bobbing up and down quickly as your mouth hung open. 

‘Fuck off- shit, yes- oh my God. You’re a- you’re a bastard.’ You moaned out, but there was no real fire behind it, not when Arthur could feel the way your cunt fluttered around his fingers as he continued to rub tight circles over your clit, his other hand never stopping their quick movements in and out of your wet cunt. 

‘Yeah, but you like it, I think. Jesus- you’re soaked.’ He said, incredulous. You laughed weakly, shifting your hips to grind into the dual sensations, gasping raggedly when his fingers brushed over a particularly sensitive spot on your clit. 

‘Yeah- fuck, Arthur- right there, please- don’t stop.’ 

‘Yeah? There? You gonna cum for me?’ He asked, even though he already knew the answer. Your thighs were shaking now, threatening to clamp around his hands. Lowering his head, he started to trail a line of kisses up the column of your neck, like you’d done to him a thousand times before. You whimpered as you felt the soft scrape of his teeth over your pulse point, pride sparking through you as you realised he was using what he’d learned from you, against you. 

You weren’t sure where this new side of him was coming from, one who was apparently frighteningly competent with dirty talk, but you sure as hell weren’t complaining. All you could do was moan in response as he did as you said - your heart clenching with pride when he actually listened, for once not committing the cardinal sin that, you supposed, he didn’t really know about. 

‘Yeah- yeah, gonna cum, baby. Shit- so good to me, Arthur. Such a good listener- oh my God, yes- please-’ You grabbed onto him, pushing his fingers as deep inside you as they could possibly go, arching your back to grind forwards into the sensation on your clit. 

‘Come on- please, love- need it so bad. Need you to soak my hand- please, wanna see you cum- yeah, there you go- please, come on, baby.’ He was the one begging now as your cunt clenched around him like a vice, keeping his fingers where you wanted them as you frantically thrust your hips down to meet his thrusts. Once, twice, three times until a guttural cry tore itself from your chest, your cunt clamping down on his fingers so hard Arthur thought they might snap off. 

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast, white-hot pleasure bursting through you in an instant that had your vision going blurry. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire as you continued to push yourself back onto Arthur’s fingers, chasing every last drop of pleasure you could as the coil that had been slowly building in your gut snapped with a force that sent you reeling. Distantly, you could hear Arthur talking, babbling into your ear as he fucked you through it, but you heard none of it, the sound of your blood rushing in your ears deafening as pleasure surged through you. You felt boneless, supported only by the solidity of Arthur’s chest behind you and the feeling of his strong arms around you as you fell back heavily against him, head tucked into the crook of his neck as you caught your breath. 

He held you close to him as you came down from your high, slowing his movements until they were barely-there, shallow little thrusts that had you whimpering as overstimulation shocked through you. 

‘Arthur- baby, enough. ’S too much.’ You slurred, slapping weakly at his hands. Arthur pouted, but did as you said anyway, stilling his movements completely, but not drawing his fingers out of you just yet. Instead, he busied himself with pressing a line of soft kisses across your hairline, smiling as you giggled softly when he nosed into your hair. One of your hands came to rest on his thigh, squeezing affectionately. 

Once your breathing returned to normal, you shifted slightly to sit up straighter, a dull ache beginning to shoot up your back from where you’d been hunched over in pleasure. 

‘Okay, baby. You can take your fingers out now- slowly, please. I’m still a bit sensitive.’ 

Arthur hummed in agreement, watching you carefully as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, unable to stop a small whimper from escaping him as he saw them shine with your slick and cum, dripping onto the bedsheets below you. He craned his neck, breath escaping him in a gasp when he saw the dark spot beneath your spread thighs, evidence of how worked up you’d been. 

‘Yeah, that was all you, baby. You did that to me.’ You muttered, smirking slightly at his awed expression. 

‘Jesus- that’s- that’s so hot.’ 

You laughed quietly, reaching over to your bedside table to grab a couple tissues. 

‘Here, for your fingers.’ 

‘Oh, thank you.’ 

He wiped off quickly, tossing them to the side before his hands came to settle on your waist once more. You let him have a few seconds of rest, before the feeling of your slick cooling against your cunt became too much to bear. 

‘Baby, you need to clean me up, too. I’m still all messy.’ You reminded him gently. Arthur made a soft noise of alarm, before nodding and shifting off the bed, making sure you were comfortable before hurrying off to the bathroom. He remembered what you’d done for him last time, blinking through the haze of his own arousal as he filled up a glass of water for you and grabbed the washcloth off the hook in the shower. 

‘Here- d’you want me to- I can-’ He said, holding the cloth out to you uncertainly. 

‘Yeah, go on. Not too hard, just enough to clean me up. I’ll naturally be wet anyway, but it’s just the excess that needs to be wiped away.’ You instructed, accepting the water and drinking deeply while he knelt between your legs. The first contact of the cool cloth against your heated cunt made you hiss, but you nodded encouragingly as he moved it carefully around your hole, wiping the slick on your thighs and where you’d messed onto the bedsheets. 

‘Good. Now come here. This is probably the most important part of aftercare.’ You said, gesturing vaguely for him to toss the washcloth to the side. Confused, he did as you said, walking on his knees towards you. 

‘What?’ He asked. He thought back to what you’d done, wondering with a spike of worry if he’d missed anything he should’ve done. Cloth, water, reassurance - he couldn’t think of anything else. He let you move him, curiosity piqued as you manoeuvred him next to you. 

‘Cuddles.’ You said simply, tugging him down next to you and laying your head on his chest. You wrapped your arm over his stomach, throwing your leg over his to hook under his ankle, leaving barely an inch of space between you. Arthur’s worry deflated like a burst balloon as he wound an arm around your shoulders. 

‘Jesus, you scared me for a second. Thought I’d forgotten something major.’ 

You huffed out a laugh, squeezing him tighter. 

‘No, baby. That was perfect. All of it- you did so well for me. Made me feel really good.’ You said, looking up at him, heart fluttering at the open love you saw in his gaze. You couldn’t help yourself as you leaned up to kiss him, a warm, fuzzy feeling filling your body as he kissed back easily. 

‘Love you so much. Thank you for letting me do this. And- for, everything else. You’re like, so amazing- so good to me.’ He said, stuttering slightly as his throat tightened with emotion. His eyes glistened in the light, glassy with the tears beginning to form on his waterline. You shushed him softly, silencing him with another kiss. 

‘I love you too, baby. And you don’t have to thank me- I’d do this a thousand times over if it meant I got to have you. Thank you for trusting me with you.’ You replied against his lips, stroking fondly over the apple of his cheek with your thumb. Arthur hiccupped slightly with a stifled sob, and you just smiled, kissing him again.

It had been over 20 years since outbreak day, when your world and life as you once knew it, turned to flames and ash before the frightened whites of your eyes. Your coffee shop, Cuppa Smiles, was your little slice of heaven. You had put so much love, dedication, and passion into your establishment. Your coworkers were friends from college that were just looking for a change of pace from their 9-5’s just like the next person.

They all tried to kill you, whatever they were now. It had happened all so fast, and even now on the quietest of nights, you could still hear their snarls and animalistic growls. You could still remember the frightened screams, the chaos and destruction as a Boeing 747 collided into the earth and burst into flames, debris falling from the explosion, hitting those who were fleeing, and those who were no longer living. You remember tumbling along the concrete, rolling like a sack of potatoes as you struggled to breathe. To your direct left was a truck flipped over on its side.

Through the harsh ringing in your ears, you could make out two male voices on the other side of the truck. The one man was holding a young girl to his chest who couldn’t be more than 12-13 years old.

“I’m sorry, baby, I know, I know.” The man’s tone was urgent, rushed and laced with fear as he held his daughter close.

“We gotta get off the street!” The other man shouted desperately.

“Tommy!”

“Head to the river! I’ll find a way. Get her outta here, Joel! Go!”

Joel.

Joel.

Joel..Miller?

The last time you saw Joel Miller, all you could remember was the fear in his eyes, before everything around you went black.

When Tommy and Maria Miller discovered you on the outskirts of Jackson, looking like you were all skin and bones as you slipped off your horse's saddle and into the cool dirt. Your body was exhausted, your resources were spent and now you just hoped that you would die peacefully. That was until a strong pair of arms were gently lifting you from the dirt as your body laid like a limp fish.

“D’ya think she’s still breathin?’” Tommy asked his wife as she was quickly checking your pulse.

“Barely. She must have been riding for days out in this heat.”

“She showin’ any signs of bein’ infected?” Tommy knew the protocol of bringing in stragglers from outside Jackson, and if you were found to be infected..

Maria made quick work to check your body for any signs of a bite mark. She took sudden interest in a large bloodstain through the tattered fabric of your shirt. She gently lifted the fabric from the hem to discover a gruesome sight. What appeared to be done by the work of a sharp blade was a long semi deep, gnarly gash carving from your abdomen, up your torso, curving under your left breast and wrapped around your ribcage to your left shoulder blade.

“Fuckin’ hell. Someone tried to carve her up?” Tommy asked in disbelief as his wife gently pulled the hem of your shirt back down.

“Raiders, no doubt. She’s not infected. I can’t find any bite marks, but one thing’s for certain though, this woman has been through some hell.”

It was well over an hour till sunrise when Joel Miller lumbered out of his home, shovel in hand and bundled up fiercely in multiple thick layers to protect his skin from the harsh biting cold. His plan was simple, head over to your house down the street, shovel your walkway, and ask you to accompany him to breakfast. It really was quite simple, but despite that he was running a script over in his mind on exactly what he wanted to say to you.

Hey Beanie, was wonderin’ if you’d like to accompany me to breakfast?

Wait..what if she declines? Then what are you gonna say?

Uhh..

Oh, well that’s alright! Maybe another time? No pressure or nothin.’

What if..she thinks it’s strange that you’re shoveling her walkway at the crack ass of dawn?

Jus’ doin’ my neighborly duty. Besides, it’s jus’ a friendly favor, y’know cause we’re friends?

I sound like an idiot.

Maybe I should just..start off with saying good morning?

I’m hopeless.

Joel grumbled to himself as he trudged through the snow. The whipping wind bit at his exposed skin but he welcomed the chill without a complaint. The harsh elements were just another reminder that he was still alive and breathing.

The outside of your home was just as he expected it to be, quaint, yet quirky. He imagined that in the summer months your front porch would be scattered with flowers and plants. The mailbox just outside your gate was crooked and could definitely use a fresh coat of paint, and the wooden gate was a little creaky, but nothing he couldn’t easily fix. He was already making a little mental note of everything he wanted to fix on, and around your home.

The snow was a few inches deep, it stopped just below the top of his boots. His back already screamed a dull pain up his spine as he bent down with the shovel and got to work. The pain he felt in his muscles was just another reminder that he was still alive.

He gritted his teeth together, jaw clenched as he worked through the first section of your covered walkway.

You never considered yourself to be a heavy sleeper even before the apocalypse. A door slamming, or pots clinking in the kitchen sink at your long since abandoned apartment was all it took to stir you from your slumber. Now, even in the safety of Jackson, your brain was always ticking. What could be lurking behind that dark shadow across the street? Realistically, nothing. It’s just your brain playing a dirty trick on you. A branch outside your window snaps, it’s just the wind. It’s just the wind because it’s storming out, and a strong wind can break even the sturdiest of branches. That noise you heard in the dead of the night? It was just an animal. Maybe a raccoon or a screech from a barn owl. It wasn’t a clicker. You were safe, so why couldn’t your brain just..turn off? Why was it still stuck in this survival mode when nothing inside Jackson’s strong walls could hurt you.

This sound in particular was different. It was unfamiliar, and unfamiliar meant danger. Scraping, grunts, more scraping; man. The hairs on the back of your neck were standing up as you shot out of bed like a bat out of hell. You kept your shotgun next to your bed because well..you could never be too careful. You never had a reason to use it, but it brought you some form of comfort that you didn’t realize you so desperately needed until Tommy experienced your triggers firsthand when he had accidentally snuck up on you while your back was turned to him behind the counter of your shop. The last time he had seen fear struck that deep inside one person, was the night Sarah died in Joel’s arms. So, Tommy lended you a shotgun as an apology.

He’s out there. He’s trying to get me. I have to run. I have to hide. He’s found me and he—he’s going to take me away.

Your brain was screaming at you as you crept down the steps. Every step you took you feared would be your last. It had been sometime since you experienced an episode as severe as this one. Other times you were able to talk yourself back down to logic. Sometimes you’d resort to unbridled violence, usually on a sack of sugar. This time, you felt as if you had no control over your body's current state. It was as if you were reliving—

Joel had his bad ear facing towards your front door. Between the pain in his back, and the scraping of the metal shovel along the concrete, he wasn’t able to detect the front door creaking open.

His back was facing you as you shakily pointed the barrel of your gun at what you thought was an intruder. Due to the low light from the sun barely peeking over the mountains, all you saw was a darkened figure bent over in the middle of your walkway. Had it been brighter out, perhaps you would have recognized the lone figure to be Joel.

Your ears were ringing loudly as the inner voice inside of your brain was demanding you to shoot. Shoot him and then run, and never look back. Your breath grew shallow as the figure slowly turned around to start on the next snow patch..and then immediately froze.

Joel dropped the shovel with a heavy clank as he slowly raised his hands above his head to show you that he was no immediate threat to your safety. “Beanie? Hey, it’s alright darlin’ it’s just me.”

He’s lying

Your entire body was trembling at the top of the steps as Joel hesitantly took a few steps forward. “Darlin?’” I’m gonna need you to lower the gun now, okay? You’re safe. It’s just me. Nothin’ out here is goin’ to hurt you.” He spoke softly, yet firmly. He kept his hands where you could see them in direct view. He was close enough now that even in the low light, he could see the frightened whites of your eyes as you stood there, unblinking.

“I’m goin’ to take another step towards you, okay? Please don’t shoot me.”

Don’t trust him. He’s one of them. He’s here to hurt you. He’s playing a trick on you.

“Joel?” You stuttered shakily as you finally found your voice.

His heart sunk deep into the pit of his stomach when he picked up on just how terrified you were. He knew it wasn’t directly because of him. Something had happened to you, he knew the look on your face all too well, and it was a good thing he knew how to act calm in a dire situation such as this one.

“Yes, it’s Joel. It’s just me darlin.’” He responded as he took another step towards the foot of the steps leading up to your front porch.

“D—don’t come any closer, please.” You uttered just barely above a whisper as you kept the barrel of your gun trained on him.

“Okay. I won’t come any closer, but I need you to trust me to trust you. Do you understand what I’m saying to you Beanie?” He was careful with his choice of words. Anything too sudden might end up with him potentially getting a bullet to the arm or thigh. Not the chest, please. He silently thought to himself.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I trust you to not shoot me, so I need you to trust me to approach you. Okay? We can do this in baby steps. I just really need you to lower the gun, okay?” His eyes locked on yours as he gave you a reassuring nod.

You blinked a few times as your hands shakily lowered the barrel of the shotgun to the floorboards. Something in you suddenly clicked as the realization of what you had just done, more-so almost done, hit you like a freight train and suddenly you were crumbling right before his eyes.

He let out a visible sigh of relief when your gun was no longer aimed at him, but as soon as your body crumbled to the ground, he jumped into action. His gloved hands were gently wrapped around your shoulders as he spoke softly, yet urgently to you. “Beanie? Hey, you’re alright. You’re alright. I’m right here. You’re safe. You’re safe.” He felt like in those crucial moments it was necessary that he repeat himself just in case you didn’t hear him the first time.

Your eyes were frantically searching his own, pupils dilating under the low light that the early winter morning sky had to offer. He was holding your shoulders so delicately, as if you were fine bone china that would shatter just upon glancing at it. He could feel your muscles trembling under his loose grip. He could feel a hint of anger bubbling in the deep pit of his stomach. The same anger he experienced when he found Ellie— “d’ya..wanna take some deep breaths with me maybe? Or we could count? Sometimes I try’n pick a spot on the wall or somethin’ or count the steps it takes me to get from point A to point B. S’not the best method, but it helps bring me back down to earth.” His tone was so soft, sincere and genuine. If you weren’t such an emotional fucked up wreck, your heart would be melting into a puddle by now.

“Joel..I’m so sorry I-I—didn’t know it was you. I thought you—I thought..” You struggled to articulate a cohesive sentence as his espresso brown eyes bore into yours. He gave you a reassuring nod, and a gentle squeeze along your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s alright. I know you weren’t g’nna shoot me. You were just frightened. Your mind was probably playin’ some trick on you.” He murmured as his thumb was gently stroking back and forth across the fabric of your pajamas on your shoulders. “Y’sure you don’t wanna count?”

“Does..it actually help?” You whispered timidly.

“Sometimes..all depends on what it is that’s triggerin’ me.” He softly responded

“Can you start..please?”

“Course I can darlin.’ We’ll start at Ten.”

“Nine.”

“Eight.”

“Seven..”

“Six.”

“Five..”

“Four.”

“Three..”

“Two.”

“One.” You murmured in unison.

“Y’feel alright with me helpin’ you up? We can stay down here. S’alright with me.” His arms were fully enclosed around you now. He smelled better than you expected. Of course it helped that Jackson had an abundance of hygiene products available; soap being at the top of the list. He smelled earthy, rugged with a hint of minty freshness..toothpaste maybe.

“I really wasn’t going to shoot you..something just came over me and..I couldn’t stop myself.” You admitted softly.

“Would have been real hard for you to shoot me with the safety on darlin.’” He stifled a chuckle as he could see from the angle he was crouched down at, the safety on your rifle was in fact on. “Who gave you that rifle anyway? Someone outta teach ya to use it..never can be too careful.”

“Tommy gave it to me a few years back.”

“Ah. That does sound like somethin’ my brother would do.” He slowly stood to his feet as he offered you his gloved hand to help you up. “These floorboards are pretty damn wobbly. I can take a look at them when it ain’t so cold out? They probably started warpin’ from the changes in the weather. Might have a few boards that are rotted out.”

“Anything else you wanna fix on my house?” You teasingly asked as you grasped his hand, allowing him to help you up from the current sitting position you were in.

“Honey, I’ve got a whole mental list goin’ on in my head right now. The flood boards could end up bein’ a safety hazard if I don’t check ‘em sooner, rather than later. Your mailbox could use some sprucin’ up. Nothing a bit of paint can’t fix, and your gate is a little crooked. I’d uh—I’d be happy to do it though.” He was rubbing the back of his neck nervously with a sheepish look on his face.

“A whole list, huh? Is that why you were over here at the crack ass of dawn?” There was a ghost of a smile on your lips as you wrapped your arms around your chest to block out the bitter chill.

“Well, I gotta put my carpenter skills to good use somehow, right? Actually..I just woke up this mornin’ and wanted to do somethin’ nice for ya. Y’know after you came over and returned the mug..plus, I couldn’t really sleep all that much. I rarely do these days. Anyway, I’m ramblin’ yet again. The main reason I shoveled your walkway is cus’ I was goin’ to ask you if you’d like to accompany me to breakfast?” His face was flushed, and his cheeks were rosy, but he was certain it wasn’t because of the biting chill.

“You came all this way to shovel my walkway, and find an excuse to ask me out to breakfast?” You couldn’t help the smile that was slowly forming over your lips. It was crazy to think that just five minutes ago you were a complete cluster fuck of an emotional wreck, and now you were smiling like a fool because Joel Miller was proving to you that even in an apocalypse, chivalry was alive and well.

He ignored your question, at first. It wasn’t on purpose, he just was more tuned into your active shivering, and the way you tightened your arms across your chest in a weak attempt to block out the early morning chill.

“Are ya cold?” He asked with a soft rasp. He didn’t allow you the chance to answer as he was already slipping his warm suede jacket off and placing it over your shoulders.

“Thank you..” you whispered in a soft response.

“Of course. I’d feel pretty fuckin’ shitty if I caused ya to catch a cold out here.”

“And I’ll feel the same exact way if you catch one as well. Do you..want to come inside? I can put a fresh pot on?” You were already gesturing to your front door with a soft tilt of your chin in that direction.

“Let me just finish up with your walkway, and then I’d love to join you for a cup of coffee.” He was already heading down the steps to grab his discarded shovel.

“Wait! Joel, your jacket? Don’t you want it back?”

He glanced over his shoulder at you with a tiny grin playing on his lips. “Nah, s’alright darlin.’ The cold ain’t real botherin’ me anyway. Now please, go inside before you actually catch a cold.”

You weren’t one to argue at this early in the morning, and especially when you had yet to indulge in your cup of coffee. You slowly bent down and picked up your rifle and slung the strap over your shoulder before heading back inside. As soon as Joel heard the click of your front door closing, he continued on with shoveling the rest of your walkway.

The coffee grounds were just beginning to steep when he had quietly entered your home. He politely left his boots along the doormat next to yours. He didn’t want to be a rude houseguest and track in any snow. The first thing he noticed about your interior style was that you were anything but a minimalist. You had all sorts of picture frames hanging on the wall. Some were photographs but the others were paintings. Realism, portraits, landscapes, anything your heart desires, you painted it.

He especially took interest in all your knick knacks that were scattered in a clay bowl on the table in the entryway. Old keys, coins, lighters and paper matchboxes. Figurines, tiny porcelain coffee cups. The pads of his fingers brushed over a tiny felt fawn that was sitting atop of all the ‘clutter.’

“Ah. I see you found my bowl of treasures? Well, some people would probably call them junk, but I’ve always been a collector of oddities. Although, I wouldn’t really call them oddities. I think the proper term would be keepsakes?” You had two mugs of steaming coffee in your hands as you approached him. His jacket was still loosely hanging off of your shoulders as he looked over at you.

“Where did you find all of these treasures? Have you been collectin’ them through the years? Ellie’s obsessed with this kinda stuff.” He set the little felt fawn down gently as he reached for the coffee mug. Your fingers gently brushed against one another as he gingerly removed the mug from your hand. “Thank you, by the way. For uh, the coffee.”

“For the most part I have found all of these pieces on my own. Tommy actually found that felt fawn a few months ago. He knew it would bring a smile to my face. Do you want to take it home? I’m sure Ellie would love it. That’s kinda the whole concept of the bowl y’know? When I have guests over, I want them to pick something from it that really speaks to them. As you can see the bowl is quite full, considering I don’t get much company around here.” You brought the rim of your mug to your lips, softly blowing on the rising steam before you took a cautious slow sip.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that Beanie. I don’t wanna take somethin’ from ya that makes ya smile. That was awfully nice of my brother. Y’guys pretty close then?” He was gently leaning his weight back against the edge of the table, ankles crossed as he took a small sip from his own mug. For a split second you couldn’t help but feel the soothing domesticity from the moment you were sharing. Joel’s thick woolen socks, his flushed cheeks from the cold paired with his coat resting along your shoulders. There was something so tender to it all.

“Joel, I insist. Please, take the fawn and give it to your kid. I even have a little box for it so it looks like it’s a present. I’m sure she’ll love it. Anyway, Tommy and I are close. I suppose you could lay it out that way? I owe my life to him and Maria..they were the ones who took me in. I haven’t been outside Jackson since.”

“‘Course you got a little box for it and everythin.’ Alright, I’ll give it to El. You haven’t been outside Jackson in that long?..” He asked with genuine curiosity. He didn’t want to come across like he was prying either. He wanted you to open up to him not because he forced you to, but because you felt comfortable enough around him to show your vulnerabilities.

“I’ve only been outside the town one another time and that was when we found the coffee bean plants in the Colorado nursery. Tommy and Maria were with me of course and—” You paused, remembering how freaked out they were when you started to panic out of the blue. Neither of them could calm you down, and you passed out in Tommy’s arms.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anythin’ you don’t wanna tell me, alright?” He reached his freehand out and gently placed it along the side of your wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Let me..go get that box for Ellie’s fawn. Did you still want to do breakfast?” You set your mug along the table, you had barely touched it.

“If you’d like to. I’d thoroughly enjoy your company, and you ain’t lived till you’ve tried Maria’s egg casserole, darlin.’” He was grinning boyishly over the rim of his mug.

Man, was he handsome.

“Sounds like her egg casserole is to die for then. I’ll just grab that box, and then get dressed. You alright with hanging out here by yourself for a few minutes?”

“I think I can find a way to keep myself entertained till then.” He assured you.

“Perfect.”

Joel waited until you had disappeared upstairs before he let out a deep sigh as he looked down at the little felt fawn. His brow furrowed as he was deep in thought over what had possibly happened to you when you went outside Jackson with Tommy and Maria. He could connect the dots and piece the puzzle together, and the blaring answer was something bad had happened. What exactly? Now, that was going to take a little bit of time.

You came back downstairs a few minutes later. Dressed in some worn out jeans and a sweater made of pure sheep’s wool. Joel’s jacket was resting along the crook of your arm as you handed him a little felt box that went along with the fawn.

“Keep my jacket. I’ve got plenty at home.” Was the first thing that he uttered as he took the felt box from you and gently placed the fawn figurine inside before tucking it safely away in his pocket.

“Joel, I can’t do that. I’ve got plenty of jackets here as well.”

He wanted to tell you to keep it because he liked the way it looked on you. He kept those thoughts to himself for the time being.

“Alright, I won’t fight ya on it.” He shrugged.

“Good, cause you’ll lose every single time you try.” There was a playful edge to your tone as you placed the jacket back around his shoulders.

“Is that a challenge?” He mused, with his eyebrow quirked upwards.

“Nope. It’s facts.” You grinned.

Yeah, we’ll see about that.

More of Jackson’s residents began to emerge from their homesteads at the shrill sound of the breakfast bell chiming from the mess hall. Joel had respectfully offered you his arm as you descended down the porch steps, and past your crooked gate. You obliged to his offer, wrapping your gloved hand around the crook of his elbow.

You had never felt so many pairs of eyes on you since living in Jackson. Curious, envious, surprised, disgusted? Those were the types of looks you encountered from a handful of Jackson’s residents. The looks you received were mostly from women, and even though the world had ended, jealousy was still brewing.

It wasn’t everyday that Joel Miller came strolling into the mess hall with a pretty thing on his arm. You stood out like two sore thumbs, but it seemed like neither of you were paying much mind to it. Joel was used to the stares. People around here didn’t know much about him, other than the fact that he was Tommy’s older brother and Ellie was..like a daughter to him. They’d see the scars on his hands and arms and split like a sundae. He’d hear the whisperings of who he was, where he came from, and he’d shrug it all off. He much preferred keeping his family close, and everyone else at an arm's reach. He secretly relished in remaining a mystery to most.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Tommy spoke in a surprised tone as you and Joel approached the table that he and Maria were currently seated at. “Ya finally get Beanie outta her coffee shell?”

“It appears that I did. Told her about Maria’s egg casserole and she was sold instantly.” Joel reached over and gave his brother a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Ellie stroll through here yet?”

“She came in a few minutes ago with Dina. There sittin’ with their friends ov’there.” Tommy gestured with the end of his fork.

“Thanks. Got somethin’ I wanna give t’her.” He turned towards you then and gave you a reassuring smile. “Why don’t ya go and grab yourself a plate. I’ll come sit with ya in a minute.”

“Do you want me to grab you a plate as well?..”

“You’re a real doll. Thank you, that would be great.” He gave his brother a slight nod before he was sauntering away to where Ellie was sitting. Her and Dina were sitting side by side, shoulders touching.

“Hey, kiddo.” Joel murmured softly.

“Hey, Joel.” Ellie responded, not looking up from her plate. Things between them were..rocky to put it nicely. She loved her dad of course, and after what happened yesterday she thought she’d be okay, but the truth was she wasn’t.

“I uh—don’t mean to bother you and Dina or nothin.’ Jus’ wanted to give this to you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little velvet box and placed it down in front of her. “Beanies got this collection of treasures and I saw this..little fawn, and immediately thought of you kiddo.”

Why can’t I just be good with my words for once in my fuckin’ life?

Ellie could feel tears pricking the corner of her eyes as she gently lifted the lid off the box to reveal the little felt deer encased inside. This small gesture meant more than Joel would ever realize..but Ellie kept her poker face strong.

“Thanks, Joel.”

His heart dipped and sunk like dry sand becoming wet and weighed down from tumultuous waves crashing upon the shore. It was a small step in what he hoped was the direction of forgiveness.

“You’re welcome, kiddo.” He cleared his throat before he ambled away back to the table where the rest of his family were sitting. He had only known you for less than twenty four hours, and he already thought of you as family. He didn’t count all the times before outbreak day only because that part of himself had died along with Sarah. Or, so he thought.

“El..he’s trying at least.” Dina was resting her chin along Ellie’s shoulder as they were both gazing down at the little felt fawn.

“He is.” Ellie murmured softly.

Joel took a seat across from you as you were sitting next to Maria, gushing over her egg casserole, and how Joel was absolutely right about you not living until you tried it.

He thought you looked so pretty with a soft smile on your face as you looked at Maria with genuine adoration.

At nightfall, Joel, Tommy and a few other men were out patrolling. With the winter being so harsh, there were more chances of man wandering through these parts. Stragglers were one thing, raiders? That was a whole other story. Joel and Tommy took to the east on horseback. The longer winter night was dead silent. There was no howling wind to whip against the bone dry branches. No low hoot from an owl. It was quiet, too quiet. Even the horse’s hooves were nearly undetectable from how soft and careful they were stepping into the snow.

The only light source they had was the brightly lit moon shining in the jet-black sky. The stars scattered about weren’t nearly as brilliant as the moon.

Joel broke through the silence as he adjusted the strap of his rifle over his shoulder. “Tommy?..” he started, “do you know what happened to Beanie?..”

Tommy let out a huff of air as the bitter cold burned his lungs. He averted making eye contact with his brother before he was met with no other choice but to finally make eye contact with him. “It ain’t my place to tell you that, brother. I’m sorry.” He sounded defeated with his words because he didn’t want to keep anything hidden from Joel. Not after all those years they had spent apart from one another.

“You better give me a real fuckin’ reason why you can’t tell me. Tommy, she nearly fuckin’ shot me this mornin’ because she thought I was a threat. That I was a danger to her life. You can’t tell me anythin?’” Joel whispered back, harsher than he had wanted but he didn’t like being left out of the loop.

“Joel,” Tommy hissed under his breath, “Even if I knew the exact details of what that woman went through, I wouldn’t be able to disclose them to you.”

“Why the hell not?” Joel quipped back.

“Because, because..she ain’t got’a fuckin’ clue about what happened to herself either, Joel.”

What?

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