Chapter Text
You arrived in Jackson almost nine months ago. Finding it had been like finding the answer to all of your unspoken prayers. You arrived alone, but the journey had not been that way. You were a child when it all started, too young to understand what was going on. Despite this, you quickly learned what had happened and what you must do to survive. Those years were painful to think about so you did your best to lock those memories away. What was the point in remembering the things you’d never have again?
You were shy and broken when you arrived in Jackson. You were afraid of feeling safe. It had been so long since any place or anything felt safe. You holed yourself up in your small home and only left when it had been absolutely necessary. Eventually, you began to relax when you realized you were safe and that you would be okay. You ventured out more often, got involved in the community, and even made a few friends. Life is good now. Life was more than just surviving now and you had something to look forward to.
You spent your days working at the stables and being with your friends when you could, and you spent your nights at The Tipsy Bison or at whatever event the community was putting on that night. Everything was as close to the old ways as it could be and you sought the comfort these things brought. The more effort you made to integrate yourself into Jackson the more you felt like you finally had somewhere you belonged. There was still one thing you were missing though…something you craved.
You’d never admit it to anyone, not even your closest friends here, but you longed for the touch of a man. It wasn’t as if you didn’t have options or offers since you got to Jackson, but none of them had been able to satisfy the deep need within you. Not in the way you needed them to at least. This was because there was one man here that you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since the first day you saw him, Joel Miller.
He was by far the most attractive man you’d ever seen in all your time on the road. He was all stoicism, reticence, and breathtaking masculinity. Not in a gross or off-putting way, but in a way that stirred something inside you that only he had the ability to do. It was almost embarrassing the way you wanted him. You’d hardly ever spoken to him and when you did he responded either in grunts or single words. Unfortunately, that made you want him more. You didn’t know a thing about him other than what people said and you couldn’t be sure how much of it was true. It didn’t matter though because every story you heard about his brutish nature and severity fed a dark part of yourself you didn’t dare reveal to the people here.
You spent more time than was appropriate thinking about Joel Miller. You had everything you could possibly need or want in Jackson, except for him. You knew how foolish it was to waste your time fantasizing about him, the age difference alone would be enough to put him off from you, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were plagued with thoughts of him constantly, wondering about how his lips would feel against yours, how his hands would grip your body, how you just knew he’d make you see stars. You’d resigned yourself to being content with lingering glances at him when he wasn’t looking and letting yourself savor the electricity you felt when you were lucky enough to be in the same room with him. Tonight was no different.
Tonight, you were at The Tipsy Bison. Tonight, you had a bit too much to drink. You were here with your friends to have a nice night and relax. You got a little bit carried away because he was here. He was here and your friends had decided to leave early tonight, but you didn’t want to yet, so you stayed. There was plenty to do and plenty of people to chat with. Spirits were high in the Bison tonight and conversation flowed easily between all the patrons, but just minutes after your friends left he walked in.
You didn’t even see him. You just felt the collective tension in the room spike, and the familiar sensation in your stomach whenever he was around. He had a way of changing the proverbial temperature of the room whenever he walked in somewhere. People felt a little more wary around him. Not like they were scared of him necessarily, but like he was someone they didn’t want to irritate or disappoint. The sheer magnetism that radiated off of him was enough to make your blood run hot and when he walked past you without so much as a glance your way you gripped your glass so tight your knuckles turned white.
He sat down at the opposite side of the bar from you and ordered a whiskey. The deep timbre of his voice had you throwing back the rest of your own drink to tamp down the way your body was suddenly covered in goosebumps. You ordered another and tried your absolute hardest to not focus on him but it was like your mind and body were perfectly attuned to every movement or sound he made. You were hyper-aware of him and despite the drinks you were having and your attempts to engage with other people around you, you couldn’t deny yourself the glances towards him.
You were staring at your empty glass and thinking about how you’d like him to walk right over to you and ask to take you home with him when another man sidled up to you and took the seat at the bar next to yours. You looked over at the man and vaguely recognized him. You’d seen him around Jackson before but you didn’t know his name and honestly, you didn’t care to. However, a distraction from Joel wasn’t entirely unwelcome so you decided not to ignore him.
He looked over at you, giving you a smile that was somehow both shy and overly confident. You returned the smile as he spoke to you, “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet.” You wanted to roll your eyes at his comment, but you didn’t. “No, I don’t think we have.” You told him your name and asked for his. “That’s a pretty name for a pretty lady. I’m Brandon,” he replied, holding his hand out to you. You shook it and thanked him for the compliment.
“Could I get you another drink? Yours is looking a little empty.” You nodded, trying to ignore the way you wished it was Joel asking you that instead. Brandon got both of you a glass of whiskey and you sipped yours, the burn as it slid down your throat far less intense than it had been at the start of the night. “So, Brandon, where are you from?” He took a sip of his own drink, making a face at the strength of the liquor. You almost didn’t hear his answer as you thought about how Joel never made a face when he drank, regardless of how potent it was, “Cincinnati. What about yourself?” You blinked at him, trying to bring yourself back to the conversation. “Texas.”
Brandon nodded, taking another sip of his drink. “Texas, huh? You’re a long way from home.” You laughed and rolled your eyes, “Aren’t we all?” He held his drink up, conceding your point. The two of you got to talking about how you both got to Jackson although you didn’t share with him all the gory details and specifics of your journey. That wasn’t anyone’s business. You thought he was alright company, if a little boring, and a sufficient distraction from Joel.
The night continued on and Brandon continued to get you drinks. He kept your attention enough that you managed to forget about Joel sitting just a few feet away from you, save for the small part of you that could never entirely forget him. He touched your arm and you let him. He brushed your hand with his own and you let him. You didn’t want him but the attention was nice, especially so coupled with the amount of alcohol flowing through your veins right now. You laughed at his jokes that weren’t funny and each time he leaned a bit closer to you.
Even though you knew you shouldn't, you chanced a look over your shoulder at Joel. You could’ve sworn he was looking at you but his eyes were off of you too quick for you to be certain. These drinks must be affecting me more than I thought. There was no reason he’d have been looking at you so you turned your attention back to Brandon. He was a little too close for comfort, but you were too drunk to care about moving away from him at the moment. At least, that was the case until he placed his hand on your thigh.
Your eyes flicked to his hand then back up to his face. With a wink he spoke to you, “What do you say we get out of here?” You fought back the urge to make a disgusted face at him and instead gave him an apologetic look. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “And why not?” You took a deep breath, not wanting this to escalate, “I don’t want to go home with you.” And with that the flirty and easy facade he had been projecting began to crumble, his mouth twitching as he tried to hide his anger.
“What the hell do you mean?” You gently pushed his hand off your leg and spoke calmly, “Just what I said. I don’t want to leave here with you.” You saw his jaw clench in a rather threatening manner. “What did you talk to me all night for then, hm? Why did you let me get you those drinks?” You needed to leave, now, before he got angrier. You stood up from your seat at the bar. “I just thought you were being friendly. I’m sorry if you thought something else was going to happen. I-I’m going to leave now though. I’m sorry.” You hoped your apologies would be enough for him, but they weren’t.
He stood up suddenly, grabbing your arm roughly. You tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight. He began to raise his voice at you, “Where do you think you’re going? You’re staying right here.” You shrunk away from him. Normally, you could handle yourself easily but you were far too drunk right now. You began to stutter out a reply to pacify him when you suddenly felt a presence behind you.
You didn’t have to wonder for a second who it was. You knew it was Joel from the way your body reacted to his closeness. The hairs on your arm stood on end and, despite the situation, a bolt of desire ran through you when he spoke. His tone was gravelly and almost angry, “I think it’d be best if you let go of her.” Brandon scoffed at him and did not let go of you. “What do you care? This doesn’t concern you. Just leave us alone buddy.” You winced, he obviously did not know who Joel was.
Joel bristled behind you when Brandon spoke to him like that. “I ain’t gonna ask again. Let go of her.” Brandon shook his head in disbelief and gripped your arm tighter, “Man, back off!” You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak up, couldn’t diffuse the situation. Between Brandon’s grip on you and Joel behind you, you were at a loss. You didn’t see Joel’s jaw clench but you felt as his demeanor changed into something more dangerous. He took a step closer, right past you. He ripped Brandon’s hand off of you and pushed him back.
“You better watch who you talk to like that,” Joel said, his voice low and threatening. Brandon made a noise of surprise when Joel pushed him back. You had to close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, the thoughts you were having right now were far from appropriate. The air in the bar had changed, everyone watching the exchange. Even if Brandon didn’t know who Joel was, everyone else did and they knew what he was capable of. Brandon seemed to sense the shift of energy and the eyes on him. Joel wasn’t one to back down from a fight and you were pretty sure Brandon was lucky to not have gotten punched for speaking to Joel like that.
Brandon held his hands out in front of him in defense, “What the…what the hell man? Whatever, the sluts not even worth it.” He said this while narrowing his eyes at you. Your hands balled up into fists at your side and you were about to punch him yourself, but you didn’t get a chance to. Joel beat you to it. His fist collided with Brandon’s face and all you could hear was the crack of bone and cartilage. When Brandon looked back up his nose was bleeding and very obviously broken.
Honestly, you wanted to kiss Joel senseless when you saw that but you somehow managed to restrain yourself. Your fists were balled up for a completely different reason now as your nails dug into your palm to hold yourself back from touching him. Brandon held his hand under his nose, catching the blood that spilled out of it. Joel was, in every sense of the word, pissed. Brandon appeared to understand this is a fight he wouldn’t win. He grabbed his jacket, looked between you and Joel, and left, all while muttering under his breath. You managed to find your voice again right as he walked out the door and you called out after him, “Fuck you!”
Joel visibly relaxed when Brandon left and cast a glance back at you when you cursed at Brandon. He turned around to face you and you instantly felt your cheeks heat up. You looked back at him for a moment then looked down at the floor. He was silent for a moment, looking down at you. “Get your stuff, I’m walkin’ you home.” You looked up at him, confusion written on your face. You started to reply, “You don’t have to do that,” but he was already walking toward the door. You grabbed your jacket, shrugging it on, and hurried after him.
He waited for you to start walking toward your house. When you did he walked by your side in silence. You wanted to speak, to thank him for what he did, but you couldn’t remember how to. There was too much going on in your head and it was mostly thoughts of him and how badly you wanted him after that little display. You looked over at him and immediately had to look away when you saw the way the moon illuminated his features. Your nails dug into your palm once again.
After several minutes of relative silence, the only sound the crunch of the snow under your boots, you arrived at your house. “This is me…” You expected him to leave but he walked you to your door like the gentleman he apparently was. You grabbed the door handle, but stopped yourself and turned around to face him. You sounded unsure of yourself as you spoke, “Thanks, um…for that.”
He regarded you in a cool, nonchalant manner. “Sure.” You nodded, you didn’t know how you expected him to respond but that wasn’t it. “Uh, okay. Well, goodnight I guess.” You turned back around and started to twist the door handle when he spoke. “You do stuff like that a lot?” You faced him again and tilted your head to the side. You couldn’t fathom what he meant by that. “Like what?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, “Let men you don't know get you drunk and take you home?”
Oh. “You offering?” He didn’t laugh or even seem amused at your comment. You spoke quickly, chastising yourself mentally for saying that, “No, I don’t. Let’s call it a lapse in judgment.” That, he laughed at. It was a quick sound, gone just as fast as it appeared like he didn’t mean to do it. Even though it was only a fraction of a second you filed it away immediately so you could revisit the time you made him laugh. “That’s some pretty shit judgment.” You laughed this time, he wasn’t wrong. He didn’t know you only went along with all of it because you were trying to distract yourself from him, but that was probably a good thing. You shrugged, “You’ve got me there, it was not my best moment.”
His mouth ticked up like he wanted to smile but he wouldn’t let himself. You filed that away too. He looked stunning in the moonlight, snow dusting his hair, and the hint of a smile on his face. You shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, wishing you were running them through his hair instead. He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t make a move to leave either. You didn’t want him to go, desperate to keep talking to him as long as possible. “Thank you, again, I can normally handle myself but…maybe not after that many drinks.”
He gave you a look like he didn’t quite believe you, “You should be more careful. This is a good place, but not everyone here has the purest of intentions.” You hoped his intentions weren’t pure, and you knew better than to expect that, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “What about you?” “What about me?” You hesitated, unsure whether you should say this but still too drunk to really care. “Are your intentions pure?”
His gaze seemed to darken but you figured it could just be the dim light of the moon playing tricks on you. He didn’t speak for a moment before simply saying, “You don’t need to worry about my intentions.” You nodded, feeling chastised somehow for your question. Your cheeks turned red once again and you scratched the back of your neck. “Got it, sorry. So, um, night I guess.” You turned back around once more, finally twisting the doorknob, when he told you goodnight and added your name at the end.
Your heart almost stopped inside your chest. You didn’t know he knew your name. You turned your head to look at him and wanted to invite him inside and show him just how grateful you were for what he did, but he was already walking away. You forced yourself inside your house and shut the door behind you. You leaned back against it and sighed. Now that he wasn’t right in front of you, you felt like you could breathe again. The ever-present ache for him made itself known ten times stronger than before after the interaction you just had.
You took your jacket off and hung it up by the door then walked to your room. You changed into your pajamas and climbed into your bed, pulling the covers up over you. You laughed silently at your behavior tonight and where it landed you. You tried to sleep but you couldn’t, not after that. Your fingers slipped below your waistband and you gave yourself over to the thoughts of him swirling around in your mind. The usual things were there, but there was so much more after tonight. The way he defended you, the way he walked you home, the way he looked in the soft light of the night, the way he had almost laughed and almost smiled, and most importantly…the way your name sounded coming from his lips.