“Joel,” his name almost comes out a whisper. “It’s only a few weeks. This is new, and you’re not, we could… we can just…”

Joel doesn’t say anything, wordlessly stepping closer to you. Your breath stalls as his fingers dance over your shoulder. He ends up taking your backpack, but his fingers trace your collarbone more than they need to. 

“Go take a shower,” Joel tells you. “I’ll set it all up for us in here.”

That night, you try to sleep, but you just can’t. You think you’re quiet as you toss and turn, pad down the stairs to the kitchen and back into bed after getting a drink of water. Apparently, you aren’t. Joel mutters your name from beside you in bed, his voice hoarse from resting. You give him the rest of your water, sitting upright with your hands around your knees. 

“Is it real?” You ask. “Joel, I don’t know if I can… this isn’t real, right? It can’t be.” You’re younger than Joel, younger than Tess. You barely remember a world outside the QZ. Jackson feels safe, and like a home. You don’t know what that - this - is. It puts you on edge. 

Joel’s strong hand finds the back of your neck, rubbing at the tension. Eventually, you lay back down, your face pressed against his chest. You and Joel smell the same, like the shampoo and bar of soap Maria handed you with a kind but guarded look. With Joel, though, if you inhale deep enough, his real scent is still there. Earthy. Joel’s hand wraps around your shoulders. You ease into Jackson by coming home to Joel. 

“Joel,” your voice is practically absorbed by Joel’s shirt. He traces shapes into your back. You hum, the feeling nice. Joel makes a hmm? In response. “Joel, I… We -”

“Not tonight,” Joel cuts you off. You knit your eyebrows. He doesn’t even know what you’re going to say. 

But then, you realize, he does. There isn’t any hiding with Joel. He sees through it. 

“We’re not ready,” his words enter the logical part of your brain, and it truly pains you to admit, but Joel is right. You’re the closest you’ve ever been. Any closer and… 

You don’t know what could happen. That's the issue. 

“Sleep,” Joel demands softly, something you didn’t even know was possible. And you do, your body is more willing to do something if Joel is the one asking you to do it. You sleep, and when you wake up, Joel is making tea in the house you’re going to call home for the next two weeks.

~

“Tommy’s taking me out on patrol,” Joel says after you’ve both eaten breakfast. You feel full, which you haven’t felt in years. It’s grounding. 

“Hmmm. Maria asked me to help out ‘around,’ whatever that means.”

“She likes you,” Joel says it like it’s obvious. 

“She’s barely met me.”

“You’re likable,” Joel tells you. You swallow. The image of falling asleep in Joel’s arms flashes through your head. You wonder if Joel is thinking about it too, if you’re under his skin as much as he is yours. “Hey,” he catches your wrist, rubbing at your lifeline. “It’s colder today,” he says. “I want you to wear my jacket, alright? I’ll grab one of Tommy’s spares.” Joel adds before you can protest.

“Joel…” you trail off as he holds the coat out to you. 

“Please?” He asks, and it almost breaks you. 

Please. You accept it. 

~

Maria takes you everywhere she did yesterday when she gave you and Joel the tour, stopping every so often to tidy things. You help her feed the horses, scoop their poop. She lets you give them handfuls of hay from your hand. You laugh as their lips tickle your palm. There’s another man at the stables, Paul, and Maria introduces you two. 

“Paul’s not much older than you,” she informs you. “And he’s a transplant as well.” Paul laughs, humble. 

“Well, I didn’t come from a QZ. I reckon you’re a bit tougher than I am,” Paul’s slight drawl reminds you of Joel. You smile at him. 

“I don’t know. Seems like you need to be pretty scary to handle these guys.” You scratch the horse’s nose. It brays. 

“Got that right, ma’am. With Sugar there especially.”

“Maybe the two of you can do a patrol together.” Maria suggests. “Paul’s on evening the day after tomorrow. I’m sure he’d be more patient with teaching you to ride than Tommy.” The two of them look at you. “You interested?” You blink. 

“Sure. Yes, of course.” You scrunch your nose at Sugar. You want to ask to go with Joel - but you understand why some of the townspeople might not want the two strangers riding off with their horses together. “Nice to meet you, Paul.” Maria bids him goodbye as well, and the two of you walk back through the main stretch of town. You marvel at how organized and clean it is.

“I can’t believe all of this.” You tell Maria. “I’m sure you’re proud of what you’ve built.”

“We,” she corrects you. “Team effort.” She smiles. You walk past the monument towards the center of town. You didn’t get a look at it before, but there are so many names. It makes you falter. Maria walks up behind you. 

“Anyone you want to add?” She asks gently. “There’s space by Sarah.” You must look confused, because Maria beckons you. She shows you the name. You look at her, wondering why she’s showing it to you. “Joel’s daughter. I’m sorry. You seemed close enough that you would know.” Joel’s daughter. You shake your head in disbelief. 

“No,” you answer. Maria doesn’t say anything. You clench a fist inside Joel’s jacket.

~

Joel comes back from patrol a few hours later, and he seems lighter. You smile when you see him. You’re sitting on the couch, still wearing his coat instead of using the throw blanket. 

“You look like you had a good time.”

“Yeah,” Joel responds, sounding as excited as possible for him. “There’s so much land to see,” he says. “You’re coming on the next ride with us. View is much better than it is in the QZ.” He pauses. “How was your day?”

“It was good. Spent most of my time at the stables. Met a guy named Paul.” You see the way Joel tenses when you mention Paul, his shoulders raising just barely. 

“That’s good,” he says, turning to hang up his (Tommy’s) jacket. “Good for you to meet new people.” You feel like you’ve made a mistake. 

“I mostly spent time with Maria, though.” You mention quickly. Joel faces you. 

“You like her?” He questions you. There’s something about his tone. Protectiveness. Joel wants to know if Maria is good for his little brother. 

“Yeah,” you tell him. “Maria is smart. She’s capable. She and Tommy seem like a good match.” Joel nods, his features pensive. He sits across from you on the couch. You want to inch closer to him. “It’s nice to see you, Joel, around… around family.” Joel raises his head, eyes wide as he looks at you. He calms himself down impressively fast though, you’d have missed the emotion if you had even blinked.

“Maria tell you somethin’ important? Somethin’... big?” He asks, tentative. 

You never met Sarah, but you recognize her. She’s written all over Joel. She’s implied in each of his decisions, every word he says. 

But he hasn’t ever said her name, not to you. Maria may have robbed Joel of the choice to let you in on his past, but you won’t do the same. 

“No, Joel. She didn’t tell me anything I can’t go the next two, three, six years without hearing.” You promise without lying. Joel stares, eyes locked with yours.

Joel knows. And he sees the room you’re giving him, the opportunity to keep keeping this to himself. Joel runs his fingers through his beard, lets out a stressed sigh.

“Let’s go to bed,” he says like it’s an admittance of something. It is, you’re pretty sure. You can tell by the way Joel guides you up the stairs with a hand on the small of your back. 

~

“I want to guess,” you laugh the next night. You’re giggly from the shots you’ve taken, practically falling off the stool at the bar. Joel shakes his head next to you, clearly caught between being amused and worried.

“Your tolerance is terrible. Mine was better when I was a teenager,” he grumbles. 

“Mine was better when I was a teenager,” you parrot back, dropping your voice as low as it can go. Joel looks at you incredulously, then lets out something that isn't quite a scoff or a laugh. “Some of us weren’t teenagers when we could easily get our hands on this stuff.”

“Alright, alright, I’m old. Settle down,” Joel’s voice is tinged with affection. “There’s only three liquors at this bar, so you’ve got a chance.”

“Whiskey, vodka, and…” you trail off. 

“Tequila. That’s why you smell like a blender right now.” 

“Is it that bad?” You stick your nose into your shoulder and inhale. “Nothing,” you announce. “I just smell like you.” Something flickers over Joel’s features. 

“Drink some water,” Joel hands you his half empty glass, not responding to your statement. You drain it. 

“Tequila.” You announce. Joel exhales. 

“What?”

“Your favorite out of those three. It’s Tequila.” Joel blinks, and you roll your eyes. “C’mon. Yes, you’re very mysterious and whatever. But I know you’re from Texas. Texans like tequila. Ranch water or whatever, right?” You hiccup. Joel stares. 

“How did you -”

“Everyone knows what ranch water is, Joel. Come on.” You flag down the bartender. “Can we get another shot please? Same thing. Thank you,” you beam at the bartender as he slides the shot over. You push it in front of Joel. He tenses.

“You know how people feel when you smile like that, right?” You try to wrap your slow brain around what Joel’s saying. You place your chin on your palm, which is a mistake, because it makes you sleepy. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Joel looks away.

“Never mind.”

“Hey,” you bump your shoulder against Joel, losing balance. Joel wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you centered. “Oh,” you lean into the touch. “You’re warm.” Joel grants you a chuckle, cutting through the tension. 

“No, that’s you.” 

“Oh. Well,” you move on. “Everyone else is dancing. If you take the shot, would you… would you dance too?” Joel’s lips start to form the word no, and you feel stupid for even asking. But he stops himself. 

“You ever been somewhere like this before?” You shake your head. Joel sighs, and effortlessly throws the shot back. You watch in shock as he puts the glass back on the bar, not even wincing. He stands, taking you with him. “You tell Tess about this and I'll never take you out of the QZ again, you hear?”

“Loud and clear,” you can’t help but grin as you and Joel make your way to the edge of the crowd. You don’t want to push Joel - this is out of character for him, horribly generous. 

You start to sway, and it doesn’t take long for Joel to laugh at you. Genuinely laugh. The sound lights up your body, making you want to respond. Engage. 

“What? You don’t seem like the best dancer either.” You tell him. Joel tilts his head. 

“No,” he agrees.

Country music plays in the background, mostly covered up by the buzz of everyone talking. You and Joel stand in front of each other, locked in place. Your eyes flicker to his neck, the skin left bare by the unbuttoned collar on his flannel, then his hands hanging by his sides. You have the urge to be closer. There’s an ache in your chest. 

“Hey,” Joel cups your cheek. “Are you alright?” His brow is furrowed. Joel presses the back of his free hand against your forehead. He frowns. “I’m cuttin’ you off.”

“Don’t want anymore,” you respond. You grasp Joel’s coat, your knuckles brushing his stomach. Then, all at once, you snap out of it, stepping away. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Joel questions. 

“I just,” you try to find the words. “It’s like… I think I’m asking too much of you.” Joel says your name. “No, I just.. Joel…”

“Hey,” Joel says firmly. “It’s fine. You haven’t… you’ve never done anything,” he sets his jaw. “You’re burning up, honey. Go wash your face and we’ll head back to the house.” Joel’s gaze is heavy. Real. “We’ll figure it out there, okay?”

You nod, rushing past Joel. You lock the door of the bathroom, splashing cool water on your face. We’ll figure it out there. 

You think of Joel, his smell, his touch, him. You think of the trust between the two of you. Him calling you honey. You think of the bed you’ve been sharing. You think about it all so hard you don’t see Paul when you make your way back towards the bar. 

“Shit. Sorry,” you apologize when you run into him. He smiles. 

“No worries,” he assures you. “You look like you’re having a good time.”

“We don’t get many nights like these where I’m from,” you admit. You take a step, and stumble. 

“Woah there,” Paul lays a hand on your shoulder, steadying you. “Why don’t we find Joel, huh? Thought I saw y’all together a bit earlier. Can you walk?”

“She can walk just fine,” you from behind you. You and Paul turn. “And even if she can’t, it ain’t you that’ll be helping.”

“Joel,” you smile. “This is Paul.”

“I figured,” Joel glares. Paul’s kind expression falls. You don’t like it, how quickly Joel makes Paul unsure of himself. 

“Just trying to help,” He tells the older man. Joel focuses on you, on the hand Paul has on your shoulder. 

“Everyone here wants to help out, don’t they?”

“Hey,” Paul raises his hands in a surrender. “No need to make a scene. Just make sure everyone gets to who they’re goin’ to.” Paul looks at you. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” He walks off. You look at Joel. 

“Save it,” he tells you. “Let’s go.” All the affection from just a few minutes is gone, replaced with a bitterness you’ve never been the subject of. You stumble after Joel, your movements still loose from the tequila. You shiver when the cold air hits you, and you’re thankful the house isn’t far away. Nothing in Jackson is. Joel manages to make the few blocks feel like miles though, his silence loud and obvious. He practically slams the door behind you. You flinch. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I don’t think I did anything wrong, but I don’t want you to feel -”

“What did he mean see you tomorrow?” Joel growls. You blink. 

“Joel -”

“What did he mean?”

“Maria arranged for us to go on patrol together, I don’t -”

“Fuck,” Joel swears. He paces around the room, hands on his hips. “What did she say about me?” You look at him.

“Is this what you want to talk about right now?” You ask, sounding pathetic. There’s still a note of hope, the promise of talking about the us between you and Joel that he referenced at the bar. 

But it’s gone now. Joel’s response makes that perfectly clear. 

“Don’t want to talk a damn thing,” Joel lays down on the couch, his boots rubbing snow and dirt on the cushions. “We’re done tonight. Go upstairs.”

You feel helpless. You barely even understand what happened. 

You just know you don’t want to leave it like this. You can’t let Joel stew in his anger. You walk over to him, murmuring okay, I’ll go, I’ll see you in the morning. You whisper the words against his skin. Your lips brush his temple at first, then his cheek, the curve of his jaw. Joel lets out a breath of air when you kiss the patch of his beard where hair doesn’t grow, his eyes slipping shut. Just as you’re about to pull away, he turns his head so your lips barely meet. It’s so subtle, it couldn’t even count as a kiss. It’s nothing that big. 

But it sends waves of anticipation through your body, pleasure. Your knees practically buckle at the feeling of Joel’s chapped lips against yours, the feeling of him breathing into your mouth. You instinctively put a hand out for support, and it lands on Joel’s strong chest. He takes it, bringing it to his mouth. He kisses the pads of your fingers, the palm of your hand. You shiver when Joel drags his fingers over the inside of your wrist, practically holding back a moan. You’ve never gotten this from Joel - this softness. You feel greedy. You want more. 

“It all comes back to us,” he utters. “Not Jackson. Not Maria. Not Paul. Us,” he pushes. You nod.

“I know, Joel,” you say, and you mean it. “It just -”

“Go upstairs,” he tells you. “I can’t be fair to you right now, honey.”

You take a ragged breath, pulling away. You trudge your way to the bedroom, sheets still messy and unmade from this morning. You lay on the side Joel’s been sleeping on. If you squeeze your eyes shut enough, it’s almost like he’s with you.

~

“How old were you?” You ask Paul. He glances at you, tugging slightly on the reins of his horse. It slows. You do the same to Sugar, giving her a quick pat. “When it all happened.” Paul lets out a sigh.

“About to go into high school,” he says. “I was real excited. My brother was a football star, and he had been working with me all year to get me ready for tryouts. Two of us on one team… It would've been somethin,’” Paul’s smiling, but he looks faraway. He’s gazing out over the hill, looking at the sunset. You don’t blame him. The view is breathtaking, even for someone who gets to see it all the time. “What about you?” He asks. You shrug. 

“I was young. Young enough that I really don’t remember much of anything.” You fiddle with the reins. “Sometimes I think I remember my parents, or a sibling, but… I don’t know. Only family I can really say I have would be Tess and Joel.” Paul nods slowly. 

“How long have you known them?”

“I’ve known Tess longer than Joel. Took her awhile to introduce me to him. But about four years now, I think.” Your time with Joel seems less significant when you put a number on it. You don’t like it. You meet Paul’s eyes. “I’m sorry about how he treated you last night. He’s… protective. Joel takes care of me.” You mean to say us - you and Tess. The three of you take care of each other. But that’s not what comes out, because it has just been you and Joel. This whole time in Jackson, the whole journey over. Joel said it  last night: it comes back to us. You wonder if he was thinking about Tess in that moment. 

“It was… a lot,” Paul admits. You’re both silent. “You know, there aren’t many people around our age here. Just kids and people closer to Joel or Maria’s age.” You blink. Even though you tease Joel for being older, it’s not actually something you think about much. Do other people? When they see you and Joel, are the two of you a mismatch? Maybe in Jackson that’s how folks see you. They can afford to do that. They can afford much more small luxuries here than in the QZ. “I’ll be a bit sad when you go. Don’t tell Joel,” Paul’s eyes sparkle. “Though if I’m quite honest, you’re not exactly my type. Most women aren’t.”

“Oh,” you say. You look at Paul. It makes last night even more awkward - Joel’s jealousy. You think that’s why Paul is telling you. “Well,” you say. “I wasn’t exactly worried.” Paul smiles. 

“Good.” 

You find yourself smiling at Paul for the rest of the patrol. Tess and Joel are your family, but now you’ve got a friend too. 

~

“Last day in Jackson,” Joel tells you in the kitchen the next morning. “You looking forward to seein’ Tess again?” She was supposed to be here with you. She got sick enough to need to stay behind, but not enough that one of you needed to be with her. 

“’Course,” you tell Joel, because it’s true. But you aren’t looking forward to leaving. You don’t want to leave Jackson, you don’t want to leave Sugar or Paul, and you don’t want the closeness Joel has finally let develop disappear. 

You slept on the couch last night, not sure where you stood after the bar. You woke up to him shaking your shoulder. 

“Joel…” Joel looks at you, gaze heavy. He’s putting his belt on, stringing it through the loops. You swallow, aware that no one else really gets to see him be mundane. He doesn’t let them. 

He’s so guarded with you, but he still gives you more than anyone else.

“Are we coming back?” Something breaks in him, you can see it. You’re just not sure what.

“We go back. We lay low for a couple months. We get Tess. We come back,” he tells you. You nod. “That good?”

“Yeah,” you say, your voice feeling thick. “That’s good.” Joel clears his throat, preparing to leave. He’ll be spending his last day with Tommy, of course. You step to the side, out of his way. “Joel?” He stops and looks at you. He’s only a few inches away, but you have to look up to see his face. He’s always seemed so capable to you, but in Jackson, Joel has been warm too. “It could be anywhere, for me. As long as it’s…” you can’t bring yourself to say with you. It would be too real. 

Joel puts a hand on your shoulder, rubbing his thumb up and down. It sends waves of heat throughout your body, but for some reason, you shiver. 

“I’m sorry about the other night.” He says. “It was wrong. And it won’t happen again.”

Joel doesn’t let you respond, he just leaves. You don’t know what to say, anyway. You’ve never heard Joel say that before. The only thing you could think to say would be something you tell him all the time. 

Thank you.

~

Your last day isn’t eventful. You tend to the horses one last time, joke around with Paul at the stables, eat as many vegetables as you can at dinner. Joel pulls your chair out for you in the dining hall, something you’ve noticed Tommy for Maria at each meal, and it makes your face heat up. You thank him quietly, and then neither of you talk. Even the walk back to the house is silent, both of your hands shoved in your pockets and your shoulders brushing every so often. When you get to the house, Joel locks the door behind you and takes your coat. You let him. 

“The Miller boys were raised right,” you try to joke lightly. Joel offers you a tight smile, hanging his own coat up. You look at the ground, feeling nervous. Joel notices, just like he always does. You think you see his hands twitch, like he wants to reach for you. 

“You taking one last shower?” Joel asks instead. You shake your head. 

“Took one this morning,” you respond. “It’s all yours.” Joel nods, awkwardly stepping away so he can climb the stairs. You wait to hear the water running before you follow him - the bathroom with the shower is connected to the bedroom. You sit on the bed, fiddling with your clothes, but the exhaustion sets in. You’re too tired to be worried, to stress about whether or not Joel will get in bed or why things are still tense between you. You kick off your shoes, laying down and pulling the covers over you. You close your eyes, feeling yourself drift off, not quite sleeping but definitely not awake. 

You’re not sure how long it is before Joel steps out of the bathroom. The steam from the shower fills the room, warming you up. He clicks the light off quickly, probably not wanting to disturb you - and then the mattress dips under his weight as he settles into bed. You feel like a weight has been lifted off your chest when Joel joins you. It feels like an admittance, or a whispered way of telling you that there is something here, even when you’re both trying to stamp it out. 

Without even thinking, you roll over so you face Joel. You can make out his features in the dark, but it feels like too much, so you tuck your head under his chin. Joel lets out a sigh, his chest pressing against yours and his breath ghosting through your hair, and then his arms wrap around you. He moves one of his legs experimentally, wanting to feel close but only as much as you do too, and you let him slot his knee between your legs. You feel the pressure everywhere, and your body instinctively presses back. Joel lets out a breath - you think there’s a slight smile with it, but you can’t tell - and begins to play with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. You close your eyes.

“You smell so good,” you murmur. You’re so close your lips brush Joel’s throat. “It’s not… It’s not just the shower. It’s you.”  Your lips drag over his throat, not quite a kiss, just like Joel’s mouth on yours after the bar wasn’t. You find his Adam’s apple, and Joel is just so masculine, his fingers massaging the back of your neck, his other hand spread on your back, you can’t help but lick it. Joel swallows, and you catch the motion in your mouth, your breath shaking. “Joel,” your voice is small, almost like you’re in pain. The knee Joel has between your thighs is so obvious, but you want more. Joel slips his hand under your shirt, sliding his palm to the bare skin between your shoulder blades. You whimper, grinding down on his knee. Your eyes fly open, humiliated. “I’m sorry, I -”

“It’s okay,” Joel says, his voice low. “It’s good for me too,” your breathing slows. “This thing we got goin’ on. I’m getting something from this too. You hear me?” Joel frees his hands so he can cup your face. Your eyes have finally adjusted to the dark, and you find Joel looking at you so seriously. Like he needs you to understand what he’s saying is the truth. 

“Yes,” you promise. Your hand raises to Joel’s wrist, your thumb slipping under his sleeve and rubbing his lifeline. Joel tilts his head forward, and you get ready for him to kiss you, but instead he just lays his forehead against yours. You exhale slightly, and Joel slides one hand towards your back again, this time resting it notably lower. You shift slightly, your whole body aching for Joel, begging him to touch you more. You press closer to Joel, and when he moves the knee he has between your legs again, a louder moan escapes your lips. You bury your head against Joel’s shoulder in shame, but he coaxes you. 

“Let it go,” he tells you, hand on your hip. He picks up the rhythm you’ve set easily, guiding you at your own pace while encouraging you to keep doing what you’re doing, pressing the apex of your thighs more firmly to his knee. “That’s it,” he says when you let yourself grind against him, your breath quickening. “Thatta girl.”

It’s this incitement of Joel’s, this promise he likes this too, that makes you more confident. You roll your hips, liking the weight of Joel’s hand. You still can’t shake the feeling of wanting more though - you want the hand Joel has on your hip to be lower, to be on bare skin. There are freckles on Joel’s forearms, and some on his throat that you’re kissing. You want to see where else he has them. You want it all. You take what he’s giving you right now though, rocking your hips, screwing your eyes shut. Your lips part as you get closer, and you clench the thin material of Joel’s shirt as the muscles of your stomach clench, drawing nearer to the edge. Your eyes fly open in shock when Joel pulls away, but then he’s cupping your face, brushing away stray hairs. His eyes are dark, mouth slightly open as he watches you come, looking guilty and enraptured all the same.

Joel looks like he wants to kiss you once you’ve come down. But he doesn’t. He just pulls you to his chest, spooning you, and you both ignore the hardness against your back. 

~

Tess notices the heaviness between you and Joel as soon as you’re back in the QZ. You haven’t thought much about how she would react - a nervous feeling crawls up your throat when the two of you are left alone for the first time since you and Joel got back. Tess looks at you knowingly. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.” It’s true. You didn’t, and that’s part of why you like what you have with Joel so much. You fell into it. It feels natural. 

“But you wanted it to.” Tess is leaning against the counter in your run-down kitchen. You nod.

“I always have.” You tell her. “Just like you.” You’ve seen Tess and Joel; their bond is known by anyone who’s worth anything in the QZ. Four years ago, when Tess brought you in, you used to find them… together, somehow. Sleeping in the same bed. Joel’s hand on her waist as they looked over maps. Flashes of longing across Tess’ face whenever Joel couldn’t see. That sort of intimacy between Tess and Joel - the loaded kind - faded away a few years ago. 

And now there’s this. 

“I’m not mad,” Tess says, and you believe her. She’s not. She is tired though. Exhausted and disappointed, wishing for yet another thing that was always going to fall through. “I don’t think I would have much love for Joel if I was angry that he might have found something.”

What about me? You wonder to yourself. You could still be mad at me.

Tess’ brow is harsh, but she squeezes your shoulder on her way out. And that’s when you remember even though you’re not Joel, Tess loves you too. 

~

You do what Joel said you would back in Jackson: you lay low. No leaving the QZ, no run ins that result in fights. You don’t see him as much as you’re used to, and when you do, the encounters are quick and professional. 

It’s killing you. 

When Joel has you and Tess come over to discuss the logistics of when to leave, you feel warmer than you have in weeks. You missed this, the three of you - but you also miss Joel. You went from sleeping with him in bed to living multiple buildings away. 

You all decide to leave in three weeks’ time - far enough away from when you and Joel originally left, and still well within the ballpark of the timeframe Joel gave Tommy to expect him back. Tess seems skeptical, like she doesn’t quite believe this is happening, and you don’t blame her. You’ve been to Jackson and it still seems too good to be true. 

You hang back after she leaves. Joel seems happy for you to. He almost smiles. 

“Hey,” you say. Joel sighs, spreading his arms over the back of the couch he’s sitting on. His face tightens, like it hurts. It probably does. Joel is always telling you he’s getting older. 

“You getting enough sleep?” Joel asks, skipping over the greeting. “You don’t look good.” You blink. 

“Thanks, Joel.” You join him on the couch. “That’s very flattering.” Something flickers across Joel’s face - affection. He runs a hand through his beard, then manages to get himself to roll his eyes at you. 

“Sorry,” he offers, half heartedly. He makes up for it, though. “I know.” You’re quiet for a moment. 

“You know because you know me and the way I am, or because it’s the same for you?” Joel doesn’t answer. 

“Figured you’d show up.” Joel tells you instead. “Especially after talkin’ to Tess.” Your eyes widen. “Neither of you needed to say anything. I know you both better than you know each other.” Joel is right. He probably hates it. He hates being involved. 

“Our last night in Jackson,” you face Joel. “You were,” you can’t bring yourself to say hard. It makes you feel like a teenager. “You didn’t get the same thing out of it that I did. And you didn’t try to, or make me think you wanted something. You do everything on your own time, Joel. I assume that when you want something, you’ll let me know.” Joel stares blankly, but you see him tense. You knit your eyebrows, wondering what you did wrong. 

“On my own time?” Joel asks. “I waited. I waited for Tess to realize I wasn’t going to give her what she wanted. I waited for you to be sure, for - for you to be older. I ignored this until it became waiting. I knew you would cause issues the second Tess brought you in. I knew how you would make me.”

“Then why didn’t you come to me?” You ask, anger finally taking root in you. “If you’ve been waiting so long -  it’s about us, like you said in Jackson - why does it feel like it’s just me? Why am I the one who has to make it happen?” Joel stares at you with contempt, and you’re coming close to matching it. For a moment, you think he’s going to throw you out. 

Instead, he kisses you. Finally. 

It’s equal parts rough and sweet. Joel keeps biting your lip, hard enough to draw blood, but then licking it over to soothe the sting. His hand is placed half on your neck, half on your jawline, and you can’t tell if it’s a caress or a choke. You’re not sure which you would prefer it to be.

Joel lays you down on the couch, placing your wrists above your head, but not pinning you. Your shirt rides up, and Joel takes the opportunity to touch the bare skin with his calloused palm. 

“So soft,” he says almost absentmindedly. You find Joel’s face, cupping it, scratching his beard. 

“That’s you,” you tell him. “You, Joel, you let me stay soft.” It’s true, even when you’re bloody and battered, it’s still Joel who gets dirty. He won’t look at you. Instead, he runs his knuckles over the gusset of your jeans, watching how it makes your hips lift and body keen. He presses harder, faster, then cups your sex. Your breath stutters out. Joel pulls his hand away, and you cry out in protest, but then all words are stolen from you when Joel grinds his hard cock against the seam of your pussy. You press your head into the cushions, mouth falling open in pleasure. Joel holds himself over you, dropping his face towards yours so you can hear him. 

“I can’t say what you want me to say,” Joel’s lips brush yours as he speaks. “Please don’t ask me to.” It’s intoxicating. He rolls his hips against you, his length pressing even harder. You dig your nails into his bicep. “But I can show you.”

You clear the first floor easily - neither of you thought that even a FEDRA soldier would be too lazy or scared to come back for a bag they clearly care about if they left it on the ground floor. 

“Probably not even important,” Joel tells you. “If FEDRA decides to do a sweep, and they find something they recognize as a soldier’s personal belongings…” he shrugs. 

“Bad for that soldier,” you finish. Joel nods, then tilts his head towards the stairs. 

“Keep behind me,” he tells you. You listen, never further than one step after him. As you get to the top, he stops you. “No noises here on out. No talking, no bumping shit over.”

“I know,” you say. “We’ve done this before.” Joel hesitates, like he wants to say something important. Instead he just turns away. 

“Right,” he says, and then that’s it. 

You explore to the right of the stairs first. It’s more shallow, only a few doors. You’re pretty sure this used to be a school. You check the offices, finding nothing. Joel motions you to follow him to the opposite side of the building. You enter a library, full of bookshelves and glass cases. There’s a circulation desk in the middle of the room, and it’s covered in drawings that look like they were done by little kids. You smile slightly. 

Joel suddenly sticks his arm out, jutting into your stomach so you buckle over. It stops you from falling though, down an impressively large break in the floor. You’re not entirely sure how you missed it. Joel clearly doesn’t know either, judging by the equal parts incredulous and angry look he’s giving you. 

Sorry, you mouth, straightening back up. Joel shakes his head disapprovingly. You feel it in your whole body, Joel’s dissatisfaction with you. It makes you think of a few hours earlier, when Tess insisted that you weren’t ready for this - as if it would be the first time you’d left the QZ, or the first time around infected at all. You grit your teeth, not wanting to prove her right. 

It’s not her opinion you care about. It’s Joel’s. It’s bad enough that he probably knows how you feel about him. You’re sure he thinks it’s a stupid crush, the girl who was barely alive before this all started following him around like a puppy. If he’s going to think that, you at least want him to think that you’re capable of following him without getting hurt. 

Currently, you’re not doing too well at that.

You and Joel trace the wall, backs pressed against it to walk against the bits of the floor that haven’t fallen in yet. From there, you spread out, flashlights on the dimmest setting and pointing towards the ground, looking for a brown bag. Neither of your footsteps make any noise, and you hold your breath as long as you can so no one (or nothing) can hear you breath. It takes about fifteen minutes, but you’re the one who finds the brown pack, sitting on top of one of the empty tables. You grab it, gleefully throwing it over your shoulder. 

“I found it!” You exclaim, momentarily forgetting your surroundings as you call out for Joel’s approval. You slap your hand over your mouth as soon as you realize your mistake, but it’s too late. Your voice bounces off the walls, filling the silence. 

And then you hear it. The high pitched clicking, the rapid footsteps. Your stomach drops, and your heart starts pounding in your chest. 

“Go!” You hear Joel yell. He’s running towards you - you can’t see him in the dark, but you can hear him approaching. You stumble, making your way back the way you came. Joel catches up to you before the clicker. You’re just about to shimmy your way against the way when you feel the ground give way under your feet.

You ran into the hole. 

You open your mouth, ready to scream as you fall, but Joel catches you. He hauls you up, throwing the two of you back against the shelves. His back hits it, and you wince, sympathy pains making you flinch. Joel holds you close as the clicker approaches, his breath somehow steady on the back of your neck. 

And - oh - you landed in a compromising way. 

Joel is sitting on his ass, legs spread out. You’re sitting between them, back to chest. But it’s the way Joel must have grabbed you as you fell, around your whole body so he could lift your weight. One of his hands is clamped over your mouth, stopping your scream, stopping you from making any more noise - but the other hand might kill you. 

Joel’s arm is wrapped around your waist, his palm pressed directly on your crotch. He must have grabbed towards your thigh, maybe your hip, as you fell, the force of him pulling you both back moving it to wear it in now. 

He’s holding you tight. You fidget, Joel’s large hand cupping your entire pussy over your clothing. Your breath stalls as you realize that despite the fact you can literally hear the clicker searching for you, your core begins to throb. Fuck, you think. This cannot be happening. Not now. You shift, trying to signal to Joel he needs to let go, he needs to right now, but the shuffling makes him tighten the hand he has on your face. Quiet, the movement tells you. You stop moving immediately, obedient. 

The clicker is only a few shelves away, you can hear it. Joel’s hand on your face, your pussy, his breath on your neck, you’re beginning to overheat, stress setting in. You can smell him, musky and slick with sweat from worrying. Your eyes begin to water, and whether it’s an emotional or physical reaction to everything happening right now, you’re not sure. You swallow, the muscles of your throat moving against Joel’s pinkie finger. 

This can’t last much longer. Even if the clicker finds and eats you, this will be over and you’ll never have to worry about it again. You will yourself to calm down, to relax. Your hips begin to sink, shoulders deflating as your body listens to you. 

It’s a mistake. Your hips lowering changes the position of Joel’s fingers so they press the seam of your jeans into the apex of your sex. The sudden pressure against your clit makes pleasure ricochet throughout your body, your stomach muscles tightening. Not even Joel’s palm is enough to stifle the moan you let out, eyes slipping to the back of your head. 

It sets off the clicker, and suddenly, both you and Joel are scrambling, trying to get up, trying to find a gun, trying to beat the monster as it barrels towards you. As you see it come within just a few feet of you, your bridge up before you even realize what you’re doing, sending your foot forward in a kick that lands squarely on the clicker’s chest. It screeches as it falls through the floor, landing on the ground with a sickening crunch. You sag with relief, your head bumping the inside of Joel’s thigh. You’re on your feet in an instant, looking at Joel in horror. He hauls himself to his feet, peering over the edge of the hole in the floor. He fires one shot, the bullet hitting the clicker’s head. Just in case. You swallow.

“Joel -” You say, but he doesn’t let you finish. 

“No,” is all he says, all he gives you. He walks back the same way you came, not even looking behind him to be sure you follow. 

~

You’re halfway back to the QZ by the time you work up the courage to try to say something again. 

“I -”

“Save it.” Joel doesn’t look at you. You bite your lip, shame crawling its way back up your throat. 

“But -”

“Stop.”

“Joel, just -”

“Shut up,” there’s a warning to Joel’s tone, one you ignore. 

“If you could just let me explain -” your sentence is cut short by the force of Joel slamming you against the nearing concrete wall of a building, knocking the wind out of you. 

“Explain?” He growls. You cough, gasping for air. Joel clenches your shirt, fists digging into your collarbone. You cry out, knowing he’s going to leave a bruise. “Explain what? That you clearly have no idea what you’re doing? That you did exactly what Tess said you would do, exactly what I told her you wouldn’t? That you almost got us killed because I touched your needy little pussy just a tiny bit?” You stare shocked at Joel. “Hmm?” He practically sneers when you don’t answer. 

“I - I -” you falter. You can’t come up with any excuses, and Joel knows that. He just wants to watch you squeam, sit with what you’ve done. “I know what I’m doing,” you finally say. “I just… I wish you knew that too.”

The harshness of Joel’s brow melts away, his lips opening just the tiniest bit in surprise. He lets go of your shirt, his hand sliding from your shoulders to your waists. They’re warm, and Joel’s hands are so thick, you can’t help but settle against them. You don’t meet Joel’s eyes though, unable to face him. Joel remedies that by hooking his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him. You stiffen when he looks at you with pity, but the closer you look, the more you realize that’s not what it is. It’s sympathy. Maybe even a little guilt.

“Listen, kid…”

“I’m not a kid,” you protest, which makes the opposite sound true, but you’re right, you’re not a kid, and you’re not confused or stupid or somehow ignorant about the world you live in. “Fuck, I’m… Joel, I am mortified, and I never want to talk about this again. But please, please, do not kick me out for this, okay? Please don’t… please don’t push me away.” Joel doesn’t say anything. A few moments pass before he lets go of your chin. 

“I ain’t gonna kick you out,” he tells you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your head falling forward. It rests on Joel’s chest. He brings one of his hands to the back of your neck, massaging it. You knit your eyebrows, surprised at Joel’s sudden kindness. “And…” he clears his throat, somewhat awkwardly. “You ain’t got nothin’ to be embarrassed about. It’s… it was a natural response.”

“Oh god. Okay. Yeah, I’m uh, I’m not sure about that one.” You scoff. Joel tilts his head. 

“You feel alright?” You must look at Joel like he’s insane, because he quickly follows it up with, “Edging can be hard on your body.”

“I - What?” You gape, shocked. “That didn’t… Oh my god, that wasn’t anything even remotely close to edging.”

“And do you have a lot of experience with it, sweetheart?” The pet name throws you for a loop. You look at your feet. 

“No,” you admit. Joel nods slowly, looking pensive. Your face heats up. 

“Joel, if you’re not gonna yell at me anymore -”

“Are you wet?” Joel interrupts. Your eyes widen. 

“I - You -” You sputter. 

“Baby,” you clench at the name. “Answer me.” You take a shaky breath, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Yes,” you admit, humiliated. Joel lets out a disgruntled sigh, like you’ve inconvenienced him, running a hand through his beard. 

“Alright,” he says. “Hold this,” he shucks up your shirt. You don’t even think about it, you just listen, holding your shirt just above your navel. Joel takes a moment to trace the lines of your stomach with his fingers, making your muscles clench. Then he drops his hand, running his index finger up and down the seams of the inside of your jeans before he reaches the button of your pants. You breathe out as he pops the button, tugging at the elastic of your underwear. Just before Joel can do anything else, you grab his wrist. He looks at you. “Want me to stop?” You shake your head, almost frantically. 

“No, I,” you search for the words. You’re throbbing now, your core acutely aware of how close Joel’s hand is to it. “But… why? Why now?” Joel clears his throat. 

“You’re part of my people now. I protect you,” Joel’s thumb digs into your hip, and your eyes practically roll to the back of your head. “I take care of you. You. Me. Tess. We take care of each other.” Your face falls, body stiffening. You start to pull away. 

“So you take care of Tess like this?” You ask, voice small. Joel looks surprised, then knits his eyebrows as he realizes his mistake. He purses his lips, then angles his head so he can press a kiss to the spot behind your jaw, towards your ear. It’s incredibly sensitive, your hands flying up to Joel’s biceps for balance and your toes curling in your boots. You hold back a whimper. 

“No, baby.” He tells you honestly. His lips are still against your skin, his voice rumbling and sending sensation all over your body. You shiver underneath him. “I don’t.” He pulls back to meet your eyes, placing the hand that was on your hip on your cheek. He brushes the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone. “Alright?” He asks. You nod, your forehead bumping against his. Joel’s is still covered with a sheen of sweat. “Okay,” he murmurs. “I’m gonna use my mouth and fingers. You tell what you like, what you don’t.” He slides his hand down your pants, cupping you over your underwear. You yelp at the suddenness, how close it feels. Removing the extra layer of your pants makes everything feel even more electric. Joel traces your slit over the thin cotton, humming. “Look at that,” he brings his fingers between the two of you, slick with your arousal. “Soaked all the way through. How long have you been feeling this way, hmm?” You don’t answer. Joel begins tracing you again, finding your entrance. You gasp as he pushes a finger against it, the tip and your underwear just barely pressing into you. 

“It’s not good for you to be so pent up.” You whimper. Joel licks a stripe up the column of your throat, tugging down your underwear as he does. The air hits your pussy, and your thighs shake. Joel begins to knead the inside of your leg, each time getting closer and closer before backing away. You bite your lip to keep from whining, fingers digging into Joel’s shoulders. 

“None of that,” Joel commands. “You couldn’t keep quiet when you needed to, you don’t get to be quiet out here. Understand?” He punctuates the last word with a press of his calloused thumb to your clit. You let out a moan in response, your head falling against Joel’s shoulder. “That’s it.” He encourages you. He starts to move his thumb in tight, firm circles that make your head spin. Your breathing becomes labored, uneven as Joel teases you. When he pinches your clit, you want to cry from the mix of pain and pleasure. Joel begins to prod at your entrance. 

“Joel,” you say urgently, before he can do anything. He stops, finger pausing as it’s about to enter you. You exhale shakily. “I’m not bad at what we do. I’m not. I’m just,” you let out a cry, mouth dropping open as Joel effortlessly slides a finger into you. You clench around him instantly, keening against him. “I - Inexperienced,” you finish. Joel smirks. 

“I know,” Humiliation makes your face burn, but there’s something about Joel knowing so much more than you - and knowing that he knows more than you, that it’s obvious to both of you Joel is the more experienced one - that you find arousing. You clench around Joel’s finger, and he takes it as an invitation to add another. You grit your teeth at the stretch. “Tell me how it feels,” Joel commands, his tone both firm but also somehow extremely soft and comforting. You moan as Joel begins to pump his fingers in and out of you. 

“Good,” you tell him. “Full,” is the last word you manage before the only thing you can say is a chorus of ungh ungh unghs as Joel fucks his fingers in and out of you. 

“Full with just my fingers? Oh, baby…” Joel trails off, and you realize he’s stepping away slightly, shifting down to his knees. Joel lets out a grunt as he does, the position probably uncomfortable for him. 

“Wait, Joel, no,” your words are somewhat slurred, but still frantic to stop him. Joel stops inches away from your pussy, glancing up at you. He stops moving his fingers, letting them rest inside you. Their presence, in but not moving at all, makes you feel like you’re going to go insane. You suck in a breath. “You can’t - we just did a mission. I’m sweaty and gross, I don’t want you to -”

“I do,” Joel interrupts you. He presses his face to the junction of your thigh, inhaling. It makes you shake, the coarse hair of Joel’s beard on your thighs, the intimacy of the act. Your hand flies to his head, fingers burying in his hair. “I want you this way. I want it dirty.” 

Joel’s brown eyes are swimming with lust, depravity, want. You can feel his breath on your pussy, and your sex is aching, begging for you to give him the go-ahead. When Joel’s fingers twitch against your walls, your hips involuntarily snap towards Joel’s face. He looks at you indignantly, but rubs your thigh, as if to silently tell you it’s okay to want this. 

“Okay,” you concede, more to yourself than Joel. 

When Joel dives in, it’s euphoria.

He eats you out like he’s a starved man, like he hasn’t had a meal in years. Joel’s tongue is warm and wet, and manages to find its way through every fold. It makes your head spin, your grip on his hair tightening as you haunch over him, a litany of oh, Joel and please please please pouring from your mouth. All the time Joel’s fingers push deeper inside of you, anchoring you to him and making him that more present: Joel is with you. Joel is inside you. 

And then he finds your clit, giving it a few licks. You expect that to be all, for him to keep up licking, but instead, he closes his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucks.

You scream. Your eyes are screwed shut, and you’re pretty sure tears are flowing down your face. You keep rutting against Joel, begging him not to stop, pleading with him to keep going, keep doing exactly what he’s doing, not to let you go -

“Joel,” you gasp. “I’m going to -” Joel just squeezes your hip in response, unrelenting. He sucks at your clit and works at your g-spot until you can’t keep it away anymore. Your orgasm claims you, spreading from between your legs. You feel it everywhere, your head, your stomach, your toes. It leaves you boneless, thighs quivering and coated in your own wetness. It’s on your lower belly too, you don’t even know how it got there. You’ve never been this wet in your life. 

Joel stands, grunting again. His lips are slick with you, patches of his beard shining in the sun as well. It makes you want to kiss him, lick him clean and swallow it all down. 

“Can you stand?” He asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. You blink. You didn’t realize how much you’re leaning against the wall. You nod, straightening, but your knees almost immediately buckle. Joel catches you. “Stay there. That’s it,” you lean again, this time a little taller. Joel starts to help you pull your pants back on, then realizes his fingers are still wet. Without thinking about it, he wipes your fluid on your pants, then pulls up your underwear, jeans, and carefully zips them up and then buttons them for you. The whole thing starts as erotic, but ebbs into something sweeter, the nice gesture of helping you get dressed making your heart clench. 

When Joel is done, he steps away, looking you up and down.